I took as much olive oil as I could, about 15-20 liters (4-5 full tree’s worth if you can believe it). In exchange for the olive oil, I decided to leave about half of my wardrobe in the village. It turned out to be a worthwhile transaction.
We had just finished several waves at our local pool’s sauna. At one point in our conversation I brought up the Lindy Effect and its relation to the storied tradition of ancient Roman bathhouses, and how Romans of all social classes spent their time amidst those hot vapors, discussing philosophy and politics until the sun set. It was a state of semi-permanent retirement. Something about the cleansing energies of hot steam that makes conversation more fluid.
You can’t beat a sociopath when it comes to business.
Sociopathy is an informal term that refers to a pattern of antisocial behavior and attitudes. In the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), sociopathy is most closely represented by Antisocial Personality Disorder.
You can try to purge the sociopaths, but without them you’ll always end up with a morally bankrupt society, a fragile market economy, higher prices and sluggish growth.
Most Eastern Europeans and Balkanci I meet are perplexed when I tell them I would trade places with them any day; America (and Canada, to a lesser extent), of course, are the “lands of opportunity and wealth.”
There are many words that, despite their origin in different language histories, sound very similar to one another. These are called false cognates¹:
For instance, while the Hebrew word חוצפה chutzpah means “impudence,” its Classical Arabic cognate حصافة ḥaṣāfah means “sound judgment.”
But not often (perhaps never) do false cognates, with different etymologies, also possess similar meanings. There is one such instance of a similar-enough word that appears in both Croatian and Portuguese that I believe may actually be more philologically related than anybody so far has determined.
This is quite possibly the greatest philosophical question of all time, and something that I will probably have to decide coming up very shortly. No, not whether to drink rakija. That is a triviality, because of course you drink it everyday. What I need to decide is whether or not I should move to the Selo, or somewhere close nearby, or whether it’s really worth it at all.
Almost every single extra virgin olive oil blog online will tell you to store your olive oil in a dark bottle, preferably somewhere cool with very little light. A pantry or basement will do.
Look, I definitely don’t disagree. I still store most of my olive oil in the pantry (it helps when you’ve got a year’s supply), but the truth is that if you are in possession of a few bottles of ultra premium extra virgin olive oil, this is simply not necessary.