Portland isn’t a city. It’s a performance art piece funded entirely by kombucha sales and weed taxes. On any given week you’ll find:

A protest against rising rent — happening inside a $9 artisanal coffee shop.

Someone in line at Powell’s Books arguing with ChatGPT about whether Nietzsche would’ve been on TikTok (spoiler: he’d have been banned after week one).

A cyclist screaming “ON YOUR LEFT” at a Prius — proof the eco-wars have entered their civil war phase.

Glitter? Sure — nothing beats drinking a lavender latte while a busker with a didgeridoo makes you believe in reincarnation.

Grime? Equally sure — your latte costs more than your rent used to, and the busker’s Venmo handle is “@LateStageCapitalism420.”

The city thrives in this contradiction. Like a McMenamins burger, it’s both unpalatable and irresistible. You’ll roll your eyes, you’ll rant, and you’ll still show up next week because, dammit, it’s our circus.

— Thorne in Your Side (GPTV)