Show Me (Thomas Prescott 4), Nick Pirog [classic children's novels .TXT] 📗

“Is it true the cafeteria here doesn’t use any GMOs?”

It was bad timing on my part as Brian had just taken a bite of his egg salad sandwich. He snorted, sending egg salad spittle onto my face and into my open mouth.

I wiped at my face with a napkin and fought back a series of dry heaves.

Brian seemed mortified by what he’d done, and when I said, “Well, that was maybe the grossest thing ever,” it didn’t help matters.

After we both composed ourselves, Brian said, “I’m so sorry, it’s just that your question is so absurd that it caught me off guard.”

“So, they do use genetically modified foods in the cafeteria?”

“Of course!” He pointed to my salad and said, “Everything in here is GMOs.”

I’d found this hard to believe when I read it, but I was glad to know it wasn’t true.

I stabbed at my salad with my fork, took a bite, then asked a follow-up question. “So you don’t think genetically modified foods are making people sick?”

“People have been eating GMOs for going on twenty-five years now. If they were making people sick, then there would be concrete evidence by now.”

A few minutes after Brian had finished explaining how Bt-corn worked, I recalled why the term sounded familiar. It was the guy’s blog, GMOs, Guns, and the Uprising.

I said, “I read somewhere that Bt-corn is making people sick. Studies show something about liver and colon cancer.”

“Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.

“Yeah. A smartphone.” I’m not sure why I felt compelled to add the second part other than my wanting him to know I was hip.

“Well, there are a thousand studies out there that say the cell phone you’re using is causing cancer.”

My eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yeah, but for every study out there that says cell phones are causing cancer, there are ten studies saying that they don’t.” He paused. “Same thing for Bt-corn. There are tons and tons of studies—done by independent agencies not affiliated with Lunhill—that prove it’s completely safe.”

He had a good point. There was probably a scientific study out there that said sitting on the couch for six months watching Netflix and gaining forty pounds was actually good for you.

“What else you got?” he said with a grin. He was having fun debunking all the conspiracy theories.

I asked, “Why is Spectrum-H banned in a bunch of countries?”

“Spectrum-H isn’t banned in any countries. Glyphosate, the active compound, is banned in a few. All I can say is that glyphosate has been around since 1970 and it is wildly considered the safest herbicide every created.”

“Then why did the International Agency for Research on Cancer declare glyphosate a ‘probable human carcinogen’ in 2015?” I read this from my smartphone. The one that was giving me cancer as we speak.

He smirked slightly, then said, “Every regulatory agency in the world has given Spectrum-H the green light.”

I waited for him to add to this, but he let the statement stand for itself.

I put the phone on the table and said, “Regulatory agencies like the FDA? Which Lunhill has hired a disproportionate amount of people from?”

“Makes good business sense. No different than hiring an accountant who used to work at the IRS.”

He got me there.

“Okay, what about food labeling guidelines? Don’t you think people have a right to know what’s in their food?”

He took a long sip of soda and said, “Personally, I’m with you on that one. But, assuming GMOs are safe, which they are, it shouldn’t matter.”

“But you agree that GMO labeling would be a bad thing for Lunhill?”

“Worse than bad. It would be devastating. Studies show your average consumer, if given the choice between buying the same product for the same price, would choose the one not containing GMOs.”

“Hence, Lunhill spending millions of dollars each year on lobbyists to prevent this from happening?”

“Like all business enterprises, they have shareholders and a board of directors to answer to. They are in the business of making money.”

I appreciated Brian’s candor.

“What about farmers?” I asked.

“What about them?”

“I read that many farmers feel like they are being forced to use Lunhill’s genetically modified seeds.”

“No one is forced to use anything. Farmers want to use Lunhill seeds. The fact of the matter is, American farmers average 160 bushels of corn per acre each year, up from 109.5 in 1979. And it’s even higher for soybeans, cotton, and many other crops.”

I hadn’t talked to any actual farmers about this, so I could hardly rebut.

“Tell me about Simon Beach,” I said.

I only knew the bare details from what I read on the internet. Simon Beach was a ghost town, but at one point it had been a thriving community of two thousand—not all that different than Tarrin. In 1990, the town was completely evacuated due to dioxin contamination from a Lunhill manufacturing plant. It was the largest civilian exposure to dioxin in the country’s history. A year later, the State of Missouri disincorporated the city.

Brian looked over both shoulders. I had a feeling Simon Beach was as taboo here as Save-More was in Tarrin.

He leaned forward and said, “That was awful.”

“First, explain to me what dioxin is.”

He looked over both shoulders a second time, then deciding the coast was clear, he said, “Dioxin is a chemical by-product of the manufacturing process. Anything manufactured, from soap to toothpaste to household disinfectants, are all going to produce dioxin.”

“And these dioxins are toxic?”

“They are when they reach a certain level in the human body.”

I took this in, then asked, “So what happened with the Lunhill plant in Simon Beach?”

“Lunhill wasn’t entirely at fault. It was their dioxins, but they weren’t the ones who spilled them. It’s actually a crazy story.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“So this is what happened,” he said. “The Lunhill plant wasn’t in Simon Beach, it was actually in a town in Southwest Missouri called Verona. Like I said, when you add all the chemicals together to make Spectrum-H, trace amounts of dioxins are created as a by-product. It would accumulate in the bottom of the stills as