
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Then the marketing departments arrived like locusts wearing Patagonia vests.
Now every mall philosopher with a yoga mat and a TikTok account clutches a fourteen-dollar bottle of “alkaline glacier water” as if it were squeezed from the kidneys of Nordic angels. The labels promise transcendence. Snowy mountains. Crystal waterfalls. Fonts whispering spiritual superiority. You’re not drinking water anymore. You’re participating in an identity ritual for people who think electrolytes are a personality.
And after decades of this magnificent consumer stampede, researchers discovered that bottled water may contain staggering quantities of microscopic plastic particles. Tiny polymer crumbs floating around in your drink like invisible confetti from Satan’s birthday party.
The Cary Harrison Files airs on KPFK 90.7 FM Los Angeles and the Pacifica Radio Network. Subscribe here on Substack for the full transcript, extended commentary, and the occasional history lesson that is likely banned in at least 30 states.
Find us at caryharrison.com — and for the love of the Founders, tell a friend.
Membership here sustains public radio
The Great Tap Water Panic
The bottled water industry never needed to openly declare tap water deadly. That would’ve been too obvious. Instead, they built one of the slickest propaganda campaigns since diamonds became mandatory for engagement rings.
They sold atmosphere.
Rusty pipes. Ominous music. Murky visuals. Words like purity, clean hydration, and ultra-filtered refreshment. Commercials featuring beige-sweatered women staring thoughtfully at glaciers like they were auditioning for an antidepressant commercial.
The implication was unmistakable:
Tap water is for prisoners, laundromats, and houseplants. Bottled water is for successful people doing rooftop yoga.
The full conversation in the video above and wherever you get podcasts. Search: The Cary Harrison Files.
Text or leave a voice message: 310-737-TALK
By CARY HARRISONThen the marketing departments arrived like locusts wearing Patagonia vests.
Now every mall philosopher with a yoga mat and a TikTok account clutches a fourteen-dollar bottle of “alkaline glacier water” as if it were squeezed from the kidneys of Nordic angels. The labels promise transcendence. Snowy mountains. Crystal waterfalls. Fonts whispering spiritual superiority. You’re not drinking water anymore. You’re participating in an identity ritual for people who think electrolytes are a personality.
And after decades of this magnificent consumer stampede, researchers discovered that bottled water may contain staggering quantities of microscopic plastic particles. Tiny polymer crumbs floating around in your drink like invisible confetti from Satan’s birthday party.
The Cary Harrison Files airs on KPFK 90.7 FM Los Angeles and the Pacifica Radio Network. Subscribe here on Substack for the full transcript, extended commentary, and the occasional history lesson that is likely banned in at least 30 states.
Find us at caryharrison.com — and for the love of the Founders, tell a friend.
Membership here sustains public radio
The Great Tap Water Panic
The bottled water industry never needed to openly declare tap water deadly. That would’ve been too obvious. Instead, they built one of the slickest propaganda campaigns since diamonds became mandatory for engagement rings.
They sold atmosphere.
Rusty pipes. Ominous music. Murky visuals. Words like purity, clean hydration, and ultra-filtered refreshment. Commercials featuring beige-sweatered women staring thoughtfully at glaciers like they were auditioning for an antidepressant commercial.
The implication was unmistakable:
Tap water is for prisoners, laundromats, and houseplants. Bottled water is for successful people doing rooftop yoga.
The full conversation in the video above and wherever you get podcasts. Search: The Cary Harrison Files.
Text or leave a voice message: 310-737-TALK