How to Pronounce Learned

How to Pronounce Hello. You have made it to our master evil plan! *evil chuckle* TOGETHER LET’S TAKE OVER THE WORLD! The only thing we have to worry about now are those pesky ‘heroes’ from stopping us to reach world domination. I have recruited you, the evilest of all evils, to help us take over the world. But first, you must collect your relics to reach your ultimate power. In order to collect your relics, you must pass a series of tests using adaptability, clarity, empathy, and everything else you have learned so far. Once you have reached your ultimate power, you will be ready to embark on our mission. Good luck, and see you on the dark side! THE WORLD WILL SOON BE OURS *evil chuckle*

How to Pronounce Took me over to your house to meet your family Introduce me to them, saying that you'd marry me Then you'd look me in the eye and say, "It's just a joke" Then you'd kiss me and I'd smile, did you even know? When you'd say that kinda thing, I'd be excited Got me hoping maybe one day you would mean it Always thought I'd only make a fool of someone else Now you've only gone and made me make one of myself I guess that flowers aren't just used for big apologies I guess I should've been more conscious how you spoke to me 'Cause when we'd fight, you'd give me space and not communicate And for a while I thought that's what I should appreciate Maybe I was holding onto what I thought you were But when you think too hard, eventually it starts to hurt The version of you in my head, now I know wasn't true Young people fall for the wrong people, guess my one was you I was getting any flight so we could make it work You'd ignore me, coulda told me you were seeing her Kinda hate myself for justifying your mistakes Took a minute but I learned that shit the hard way Who are you to tell me I can't be heartbroken? Babe, you had the chance, the door for you was open If it's what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night Pretend I haven't found a man who finally treats me right I guess that flowers aren't just used for big apologies I guess I should've been more conscious how you spoke to me 'Cause when we'd fight, you'd give me space and not communicate And for a while I thought that's what I should appreciate Maybe I was holding onto what I thought you were But when you think too hard, eventually it starts to hurt The version of you in my head, now I know wasn't true Young people fall for the wrong people, guess my one was you If there's anything I've learned, it's you should watch yourself If it's hurting you, then leave and go and get some help

How to Pronounce thought I'd end up with tony tony chopper But he wasn't available Wrote some songs about nami Now I listen and laugh Even almost got married And for Zoro, I'm so thankful Wish I could say "thank you" to Luffy 'Cause he was an rubber man One taught me love One taught me patience And one taught me pain Now, I'm so amazing Say I've loved and I've lost But that's not what I see So, look what I got Look at what you taught me And for that, I say Thank you, next (next) Thank you, next (next) Thank you, next I'm so grateful for my tony chopper Thank you, next (next) Thank you, next (next) Thank you, next (next) I'm so Spend more time with the straw hat crew I ain't worried 'bout nothin' Plus, I met someone else We're havin' better discussions I know they say I move on too fast But this one gon' last 'Cause his name is tony chopper And I'm so good with that (so good with that) he taught me love (love) he taught me patience (patience) he handles pain (pain) That amazing (yeah, hes's amazing) I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah) But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah) 'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah) Ain't no need for searching And for that, I say Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next (thank you) I'm so grateful for my ex Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next (said thank you, next) Thank you, next (next) I'm so grateful for my ex Thank you, next Thank you, next Thank you, next I'm so One day I'll walk down the aisle Holding hands with my mama I'll be thanking my Sanji 'Cause she grew from the drama Only wanna do it once, real bad Gon' make that last God forbid something happens Least this song is a smash (song is a smash) I've got so much love (love) Got so much patience (patience) I've learned from the pain (pain) I turned out amazing (turned out amazing) I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah) But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah) 'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah) Ain't no need for searching And for that, I'll say Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next I'm so grateful for my ex Thank you, next (thank you, next) Thank you, next (said thank you, next) Thank you, next (next) I'm so grateful for my ex Thank you, next Thank you, next Thank you, next Yeah, yee Thank you, next Thank you, next Thank you, next

How to Pronounce First, I love learning about different industries and commodities, how they developed over time, often over millennia, shaping world markets and modern political economies (e.g. cotton, gold, salt, cod, petroleum). “The Fish” provides a fascinating introduction to the world of bananas, a fruit that every American today knows and most of whom love on their breakfast cereal or as a mid-day, nutritious snack. Only, as I learned, bananas aren’t actually a fruit and little more than a century ago they were far from common, but rather quite exotic, a true luxury, displayed at the 1876 Centennial Exposition to crowds of gawking onlookers as if it came from another planet. Indeed, according to the author, a banana in 1900 was as unusual to the average American as an African cucumber is today. There’s a lot about the very familiar banana that I never knew. For instance, Cohen explains that the banana tree is actually the world’s largest herb, and thus its offspring, the banana, are technically berries. Even more fascinating, bananas grow from rhizomes, not seeds. In other words, cut appendages continue to grow, replicating the original. As Cohen describes it: “When you look at a banana, you’re looking at every banana, an infinite regression. There are no mutts, only the first fruit of a particular species and billions of copies. Every banana is a clone, in other words, a replica of an ur-banana that weighed on its stalk the first morning of man.” Believe it or not, the story of the banana gets even crazier. If you’ve ever wondered why old black-and-white films joked about slipping on a banana peel even though the banana peel that you’ve long known doesn’t feel particularly slippery, that’s because we have completely different bananas today. In the early nineteenth century, Americans were introduced to the “Big Mike,” a variety of banana that went extinct in 1965. It was bigger, tastier and more robust than the bananas we have today, according to Cohen, and their peels were far more slippery. The bananas we eat today are known as “Cavendish,” their primary benefit being immunity to the Panama disease that wiped out the Big Mike. Again, because bananas are all exact genetic copies, they are highly susceptible to rapid eradication from disease. Second, I’m a sucker for a great rags-to-riches story. The tale of Samuel Zemurray delivers that in spades. He arrived in America in 1891, a penniless Jew from what today is Moldova, and settled in the Deep South. (It may surprise many Americans but the South was far more hospitable to Jews for most our history. For instance, Jefferson Davis had two Jews in his Cabinet; Lincoln had none.) While still in his teens Zemurray recognized a business opportunity where other only saw trash: the ripe bananas that Boston Fruit discarded along the rail line in Mobile, Alabama before shipping off to Chicago and other northern metropolitan destinations. Zemurray was a natural entrepreneur; he had no particular affinity for bananas, it was just the opportunity at hand. “If he had settled in Chicago,” Cohen writes, “it would have been beef; if Pittsburgh, steel; if L.A., movies.” Zemurray quickly turned one man’s trash into cash, renting a boxcar to carry the castoff bananas along the slow rail route through the South, selling his cargo to local merchants at each Podunk rail stop until either his inventory ran out or spoiled. From such humble beginnings did a great international trading company eventually take root, Cuyamel Fruit, named after the river separating Honduras and Guatemala, the heartland of banana growing. By 1925, Cuyamel Fruit Company, the creation of an upstart Jewish immigrant banana jobber, had emerged as a serious threat to United Fruit, the undisputed king of the industry, a company that was led by Boston’s best, the sons of Brahmins. The threat was not because of Cuyamel’s size. In most ways United Fruit still dominated its aggressive rival (i.e. United Fruit was harvesting 40 million bunches a year with 150,000 employees and working capital of $27m, compared to Cuyamel’s 8 million bunches, 10,000 employees and $3m in working capital). The threat was that Cuyamel was a better run business and more innovative, leading the way with selective pruning, drainage, silting, staking and overhead irrigation. “U.F. was a conglomerate, a collection of firms bought up and slapped together,” Cohen writes. Cuyamel, by contrast, was a well-oiled machine, vertically integrated and led from the front by Zemurray, the ultimate owner-manager-worker. Cuyamel’s success was certainly no accident. It was the product of hard work, an obsessed owner-operator who understood his business at a visceral level, a skill earned over decades of hard, unglamorous work. Zemurray adhered to his own, classically American immigrant code of conduct: “get up first, work harder, get your hands in the dirt and the blood in your eyes.” Cohen describes his commitment and ultimate advantage this way: “Zemurray worked in the fields beside his engineers, planters, and machete men. He was deep in the muck, sweat covered, swinging a blade. He helped map the plantations, plant the rhizomes, clear the weeds, lay the track…unlike most of his competitors, he understood every part of the business, from the executive suite where the stock was manipulated to the ripening room where the green fruit turned yellow…By the time he was forty, he had served in every position from fruit jobber to boss. He worked on the docks, on the ships and railroads, in the fields and warehouses. He had ridden the mules. He had managed the fruit and money, the mercenaries and government men. He understood the meaning of every change in the weather, the significance of every date on the calendar.” Indeed, dedicated immigrants like Sam Zemurray have made America great. There’s nothing wrong with doing grunt work. In fact, it’s essential. United Fruit bought out Cuyamel in the early days of the stock market crash of 1929, when the former had a market share of 54% to the latter’s 14%. United Fruit’s profit was some $45m and its stock price $108. By 1932, profit was down to $6m and the stock languished at $10.25. “The company was caught in a death spiral,” according to Cohen. By January 1933, Zemurray used his massive stake and proxy votes to take over the company, claiming “I realized that the greatest mistake the United Fruit management had made was to assume it could run its activities in many tropical countries from an office on the 10th floor of a Boston office building.” The immigrant with dirt under his nails and a rumbled jacket knew the business better than the Ivy Leaguers with manicures and pinstriped suits. Indeed, the fish (Cuyamel Fruit) was swallowing the whale (United Fruit). Zemurray would run the company until 1951, arguably the most successful years of its history. In 1950, the company cleared $66m in profit. By 1960, profits would fall to just $2m. United Fruit collapsed, eventually restructuring and reinventing itself as Chiquita Brands, based in Cincinnati. When Zemurray started in the industry at the turn of the century, bananas were curiosities, a sidebar trade, something for the rich. By the time he retired, bananas were part of the daily American fabric, the interests of the industry consistent with that of political leadership in Washington. Indeed, some of the most illustrious and powerful men in government had close connections to United Fruit during the Zemurray era: CIA director Allen Dulles (member of the board of directors), secretary of state John Foster Dulles (U.F. legal counsel at Sullivan & Cromwell), New Deal fixer Tom Corcoran (paid lobbyist), UN Ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge (large shareholder), among others. By the 1950s, Cohen writes, “it was hard to tell where the government ended and the company began.” At its height, Cohen says, United Fruit was “as ubiquitous as Google and as feared as Halliburton.” For anyone interested in business history, American politics in Central America or the development of the global fruit industry, “The Fish that Ate the Whale” is a book to own and savor. Read less

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