Is That Apple Organic? Who Cares?

Posted by on Sep 29, 2012 in On The Street | 0 comments

Enough to make an organic head spin.

When I first started seeing the new-fangled “organic” classification reserved only for that higher echelon of foodstuffs, I had to admit, I was suckered in completely. It wasn’t that my so-called “normal” food wasn’t good enough for me anymore, in fact, they pretty much tasted the same as the organic stuff.

I just marveled at this whole new class of edibles that seemed to serve some kind of higher purpose, like, preventing me from getting cancer or something because there weren’t any pesticides or GMOs or whatever weird fancypants terms those holistic purveyors of finer food use in order to strike “fear of eating banal supermarket fare” into our hearts (and stomachs).

In a way, just the word “organic” is almost accusatory. It’s as if that “organic” box of fair-trade, non-GMO’d, totally overpriced whole-grain Kashi cereal in it’s carbon-footprintless recycled cardboard box was made to say, “Hey, not to be too nosy or anything, but if you don’t buy me, you’re basically poisoning yourself slowly. And not helping those poor wheat farmers who wear wide-brimmed straw hats. And killing the planet. Have fun munching on injustice!” Sheesh, when did buying corn flakes become so politically incorrect?

But then, just as I started giving in to all the overbearing organic proselytism, I go and read this article, which only adds to my breakfast cereal-buying conundrum. So what happens when all those manure-powered, sunshine-loving, automaton-eschewing hippies get consumed (excuse the weak pun) by the very thing they stood against in the name of greed? It just seems like a nonsensical catch-22 in the name of food.

Yet it’s not something to take lightly: the organic food industry has become something of an extraordinary small roots to sky-high sycamore business story. What started out as a mom-and-pop sun-dried granola endeavor in a small, eco-conscious kitchen turned into a meticulously marketed,  6-figure making, bankable barley crop. Chances are, that expeller-pressed organic apple juice you’re sipping on was made by none other than the Smucker corporation, of the strawberry jam-slinging persuasion.

So next time you’re ant-sing for a healthy bottle of Blue Machine Naked juice, sip away… just remember, that fat guy with a Pepsi bottle in his chunky hand has more in common with you than you think.

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