August 27, 2025 – Philadelphia











The food pyramid wasn’t built on science. It was built on subsidies.
It’s fiat food.
The original U.S. food pyramid (1992) placed bread, pasta, rice, and cereal at the base, recommending 6–11 servings per day. Meat and fat were pushed to the very top with the message: “Eat sparingly.”
Why? Not because the science proved it. It was because government subsidies heavily supported corn, wheat, and soy. The pyramid was designed around what was cheap and profitable for industry, not what was biologically optimal for humans.
When people are encouraged to base their diet on refined grains and sugar, they don’t feel full for long. These foods spike insulin, crash blood sugar, and lead to constant cravings.
A population addicted to cheap carbs is a population that keeps buying more food.
And as health declines, the same population keeps buying more medicine.
A nation that eats fiat food becomes a nation of endless consumers—of snacks, of sodas, and eventually, of pharmaceuticals.
Since the release of the food pyramid in the 1990s, rates of obesity, diabetes, and heart disease have exploded.
The pyramid didn’t cure illness—it fueled industries that profit from it.
At the very top of the pyramid, meat and animal products were labeled “sparingly.” But this is the inversion of reality.
Meat is satiating. It provides complete proteins, essential vitamins, and nutrient density without the insulin rollercoaster. When you eat steak, eggs, or fish, you’re satisfied for hours, not craving another snack.
Meat makes you healthier and stronger. It builds muscle, supports hormone health, and gives the body the tools to thrive. By contrast, refined carbs and seed oils leave the body inflamed and weak.
Meat makes you less of a consumer. If you’re full and healthy, you don’t keep buying processed snacks, sugary drinks, or endless medications. You step outside the cycle of manufactured dependence.
The food pyramid is not a neutral guide. It is a blueprint for dependency. It keeps people sick, overweight, and in need of constant consumption.
Flip the pyramid, and you flip the script.
Base your diet on real foods—meat, eggs, butter, fish—and watch what happens:
In a world of fiat food and fiat health, the path to sovereignty starts on your plate.
I thank God every day for my solitude. Thank you Lord for setting me apart in a walled garden for me to play and be a big kid throughout my days.

Traveling is one of those things that completely transformed my life. If you’ve never left your hometown, your state, or your country, you have a limited perception of reality. When you travel to a new place, not only do you have the opportunity to experience something novel, but you also have the ability to adapt, to grow, to change, and ultimately to make new work through your photographs.
The countless experiences I’ve had from traveling have been the most fulfilling aspects of my journey as a photographer. There’s no amount of physical things or possessions you can purchase to improve, but the one thing you can do is buy plane tickets, train tickets, and explore the open world.
If there’s one thing about photography that keeps me excited about life, it’s the excuse and ability to go out into the world and explore endlessly. I know there is so much to do, to see, to explore, and to photograph in my lifetime. You could live until you’re 120 years old and still not see every corner of this earth. Is that not exciting? The mystery of the unknown is where we thrive as photographers. To embrace it openly, to throw yourself into the chaos, is where the trial by fire begins.
When I first arrived in Jerusalem, in the Old City back in 2017, I began to take my photography more seriously through traveling. I had to adapt and learn how to engage with new cultures through language barriers. I carried around an Instax camera and gifted strangers prints on the streets.
I started to explore unfamiliar territory—traveling from Jerusalem to the West Bank, throughout Ramallah, Jericho, Nablus, Qalandia, Jenin, Hebron, Bethlehem, and more. Through those trips, I learned how to engage in places unknown to me.
One day in Jericho, fires were rising and conflict was breaking out near the checkpoint. I couldn’t make it past the border, so I asked a Palestinian man to drive me as close as possible. I sprinted through the desert and made it to the frontlines of the conflict. At that moment, I made one of my strongest photos. But that image only came because I took a risk—embracing danger and the unknown openly.
The best photos come through exploring the unknown, embracing danger, and following through with courage. Traveling will test your courage and strengthen you as an artist. The more you go out there, practice courage, and follow your curiosity, the better your photographs will become.
This is why traveling is the most important thing a photographer can do. It teaches you how to exude courage and overcome anything that comes your way. If you can learn how to photograph in an unfamiliar place that challenges you, eventually you’ll be able to photograph in any situation you find yourself in.
If you’re still early in your journey—or even late in the game—and you haven’t yet explored the world, this is your call to take action. The sooner you do it, the better, and the faster your photography will improve.

Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World (1932) is a dystopian novel that envisions a future society built on technological control, consumerism, and engineered happiness. Unlike Orwell’s 1984, which relies on fear and repression, Huxley’s world maintains stability by providing pleasure, distraction, and conformity. It raises timeless questions about freedom, individuality, and what it means to be human.
The novel is set in the World State, a unified global government that eradicated war and suffering by sacrificing individuality and free will. Society is guided by the motto:
“Community, Identity, Stability.”
Huxley warns of a future where technology eliminates individuality. Efficiency and control replace creativity and free will.
The World State provides comfort at the cost of freedom. The question lingers: is happiness without freedom true happiness?
Endless entertainment, casual sex, and soma keep people docile. Huxley critiques modern tendencies toward distraction and shallow pleasure.
John argues that suffering is essential to the human condition. To deny it is to deny meaning and growth.
Religion is outlawed, replaced by worship of science and technology. John’s faith and longing for something higher clash with the sterile world.
Brave New World endures because it challenges us to reflect on modern society’s obsession with comfort, entertainment, and consumption. Huxley’s vision reminds us that to be human is to embrace both joy and suffering, freedom and responsibility.
The novel ultimately leaves us with a haunting paradox:
A world without pain may also be a world without meaning.

A photographer needs nothing from the external world. You’re completely immersed in your own world that you create from nothing. You can be in a state of wonder and awe, in a childlike spirit of play throughout the entirety of your day, without depending on external validation, novel sensation, or the entertainment of other people. You’re dangerous because you can entertain yourself and need nothing from anybody or anything. You just need light, sight, and a camera in hand.

Plato’s Theory of Forms (sometimes called the Theory of Ideas) is one of the most influential concepts in Western philosophy. It provides a way of understanding reality, knowledge, and truth that goes beyond appearances.
Plato argued that the world we experience through our senses is not the ultimate reality. Instead, it is only a shadow or imitation of a higher, unchanging realm of truth.
This higher realm is made up of Forms (or Ideas): perfect, eternal, and unchanging patterns that give meaning to everything in the physical world.
The visible world = changing, imperfect, deceptive.
The world of Forms = eternal, perfect, unchanging.
Think about a circle:
Plato explains this idea with his famous allegory:
At the top of all Forms is the Form of the Good:
Plato’s Theory of Forms teaches us that the deepest truths are not found in what we see, but in what we can understand with the mind.
Yo, what’s poppin people?
It’s Dante. Getting my morning started here in Philadelphia. Got the Ricoh GR III snapshotting my way through the mist. Beautiful, foggy day.
Looking up at the new Comcast tower. Ricoh GR shirt on.
Today is May 22, 2025. Apparently they just dropped the Ricoh GR IV announcement.
This is good news. Real good.
Ricoh is the new Leica.
“There’s nothing to fix, right? Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”
The Ricoh is already perfect. They just need to keep producing it.

Saw this at the Italian Festival last weekend—some young girls handed me an old Canon point-and-shoot to snap a pic.
That’s the vibe now. Compact digital is the future.
“Sell the Leica. Buy the Ricoh.”
Ricoh knows the deal.
They’re not out here chasing megapixels or gimmicks.
That’s the move.

“Shoot the smallest JPEG file humanly possible. Crank the contrast. Get beauty straight from the camera.”
No more post-processing. Just:
Boom. Done.
You eliminate friction.
“There’s no excuse not to shoot.”
You’re on your commute?
Lunch break?
On your way to work?
You’re making pictures. Just like that.

I’m out here taking self-portraits.
Photos of windows.
Playing with textures.
One of my favorite things: Macro Mode.
You can get up close to the dew drops on leaves—
pure texture, pure form.
When you use the high contrast setting on the Ricoh:
“You’re no longer waiting for the world to give you something. You’re making something out of nothing.”

It’s light on surface. That’s all photography is.
You’re drawing with light.
And you’re doing it instantly.
Use the Highlight-Weighted Metering Mode.
Example: dew drops on a leaf—light glistening.
Background? Blacked out. That’s the look.
You can underexpose, overexpose, play with it.
That’s the beauty of ambiguous spaces in high contrast black and white photography.
“You isolate, crush shadows, expose for highlights—and you have more fun in your life as a photographer.”

Please. Just use a wrist strap.
I got the official Ricoh leather one.
Strap it to your camera. Keep it in your pocket. Keep it on your wrist.
Using two Ricohs—one on neck, one on wrist—was fun, but…
“One camera, one lens is all you need.”
And remember:
“You don’t need to adjust any camera settings when you strip it down to the essentials.”
All you need is:
That’s it.

Out here getting misted in Logan Square, Philly.
“Ricoh GR IV official announcement, reporting live from Logan Square.”
This is the future of photography.
Go Ricoh or go home.
Forget the Leica.
Forget the sensor dust.
Forget the megapixels.
“Shoot the small JPEG. Let the dust gunk up. That’s how you know you’re living.”

Photograph like an amateur.
See like a child.
Photography should feel fun again.
Alright. I gotta get the bus. Peace out.
Shinjuku (新宿) is one of Tokyo’s most vibrant and dynamic wards, known for its skyscrapers, nightlife, shopping, and transport hub. It’s often described as a “city within a city” because of its sheer variety and energy. Here’s a detailed breakdown:
Shinjuku is sensory overload: flashing neon lights, crowded crossings, giant billboards, and people flowing in all directions. Yet, just minutes away you can step into a serene garden or a tiny back alley bar. It’s a microcosm of Tokyo—modern and traditional, chaotic and calm.