Buenos Aires, Argentina
It was a week that felt like riding a pendulum.
This week Trump’s inaugural speech rang out, full of sharp jabs and selective rhetoric, stinging Democrats and Republicans alike. Soon after, the stroke of a pen sent a shockwave into the annals of American history—the order to disclose the JFK assassination files.
H.L. Mencken, the sharp-tongued political commentator of another era, once quipped, “The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.”
Mencken understood the power of selective memory—how we, as a society, often hear only what we want to hear, clinging to comforting half-truths while sidestepping uncomfortable realities.
H.L. Mencken’s diary, sealed for 25 years after his death, caused a firestorm when it was published. Meant only for “students of critical or historical investigation,” it revealed scathing criticisms of public figures—some still alive—mocking Roosevelt, belittling leaders, and sparing no one.
If Mencken’s private musings could shake reputations decades later, imagine the fallout from a full release of the remaining JFK files. History, unfiltered, rarely comes without consequences.
It makes me I wonder: is the true national history age-appropriate?
Like when you’re a kid and your parents delicately tell you a beloved pet has “moved to a farm in the country”, there are things we’re shielded from to keep life moving smoothly.
Do we really need to know everything? Selective memory has its benefits too.
Trump’s words, like so many political speeches before him, were a blend of rallying cries and strategic omissions. Mencken once remarked, “A good politician is quite as unthinkable as an honest burglar.” His sharp observation remains relevant today, reminding us to listen carefully to political promises, always with a hint of doubt.
But, for better or worse, this week—this swing of the pendulum—might also unearth one of the most enduring mysteries of modern America: who killed JFK?
Theories abound.
Was it the CIA, furious over perceived betrayals? The FBI, desperate to maintain control? The Mafia, nursing grievances? Or perhaps someone else entirely?
The files are set to be disclosed, promising clarity. But is the truth about JFK really going to change the nation for good, or just fuel more gossip?
I don’t know.
It’s a fascinating question.
My dad used to say when I was a child, “If you speak with truth, you can always benefit from poor memory.”
But in a world so accustomed to sugar-coated narratives and sanitized versions of reality, are we even equipped to digest unvarnished truths? Can we even trust them to be unvarnished?
Are we ready to learn what really goes into our lives—our leaders’ decisions, our favorite foods, and yes, even our wine?
For me, I’ve always enjoyed observing. You won’t see me raging with every line that a politician says.
I’m open to listening, always with a grain of salt.
Let’s take McDonald’s chicken nuggets. We all know there’s more to them than chicken. But have you ever wondered what else goes into that crispy, golden exterior? Or the donuts that melt in your mouth—what hidden ingredients make them so irresistibly sweet?
And what about mass-produced wine? Unlike political historical claims, you can be pretty darn sure of what goes into your wine (with a little legwork—that’s my job).
Mass-produced wine often includes added sugars, dyes, stabilizers, and even wood chips for that “oaky” flavor. For $9.99, you get a bottle that tastes the same from coast to coast.
For me, part of exploring wines for Bonner Private Wines has been about pulling back the curtain. I find the full benefit of it—not just from a quality standard, but also from a health angle.
I’ve visited many wineries now and seen a bit of everything.
From a French château owned by a Chinese conglomerate with a fancy name, to a small winery producing incredible quality wine—only to have it bottled under a larger label and sold as someone else’s brand.
There’s a whole world behind the label.
Last week, I left you with this: question everything—even wine. Every bottle tells a story, but what’s beneath the surface often reveals more than the label ever could.
It’s about finding what I call responsibly made, “clean” wines—wines crafted without added sugars, dyes, or shortcuts.
They have character, soul, and stories to tell.
So, do people really want to know the truth? About JFK? About nuggets? About wine?
I’ll leave that for you to decide. The answer may be different for all of us.
But I can tell you this: the wines in our next Argentine collection are all made by talented winemakers who value craftsmanship over convenience, and quality over shortcuts.
They’re not “massively produced” but rather lovingly created—one bottle at a time.
Here’s to truth, in whatever form it takes.
Cheers.
Diego Samper
