Questõesde USP sobre Interpretação de texto | Reading comprehension

        Fatbergs are a growing scourge infesting cities around the world— some are more than 800 feet long and weigh more than four humpback whales. These gross globs, which can cause sewer systems to block up and even overflow, have been plaguing the U.S., Great Britain and Australia for the past decade, forcing governments and utilities companies to send workers down into the sewers armed with water hoses, vacuums and scrapers with the unenviable task of prying them loose.  

        "It is hard not to think of [fatbergs] as a tangible symbol of the way we live now, the ultimate product of our disposable, out of sight, out of mind culture," wrote journalist Tim Adams in The Guardian. 

        At their core, fatbergs are the accumulation of oil and grease that's been poured down the drain, congealing around flushed nonbiological waste like tampons, condoms and baby wipes. When fat sticks to the side of sewage pipes, the wipes and other detritus get stuck, accumulating layer upon layer of gunk in a sort of slimy snowball effect. 

        Fatbergs also collect other kinds of debris—London fatbergs have been cracked open to reveal pens, false teeth and even watches. 

        Restaurants are a big contributor to fatbergs: Thames Water, the London utilities company, found nine out of 10 fast-food eateries lacked adequate grease traps to stop fat from entering the sewers. Homeowners also contribute to the problem by pouring grease and fat down the sink. 

        Even though its component materials are soft, fatbergs themselves can be tough as rocks. Researchers have found a host of dangerous bacteria in fatbergs, including listeria and e.coli. 

        Fatbergs are notorious for their fetid smell, which can make even the hardiest sewer workers gag, and chipping away at one can release noxious gases. 

        The key to fatberg prevention is remembering the four Ps: Pee, poo, puke and (toilet) paper are the only things that should be flushed. 

Newsweek, 14 March, 2019. Adaptado.

        If you take a look at my smartphone, you’ll know that I like to order out. But am I helping the small local businesses? You would think that if you own a restaurant you’d be thrilled to have an outsourced service that would take care of your delivery operations while leveraging their marketing might to expand your businesses’ brand. However, restaurant owners have complained of lack of quality control once their food goes out the door. They don’t like that the delivery people are the face of their product when it gets into the customer’s hand. Some of the delivery services have been accused of listing restaurants on their apps without the owners’ permission, and oftentimes publish menu items and prices that are incorrect or out of date.

        But there is another reason why restaurant owners aren’t fond of delivery services. It’s the costs, which, for some, are becoming unsustainable. Even with the increased revenues from the delivery services, the fees wind up killing a restaurant’s margins to the extent that it’s at best marginally profitable. Therefore, some restaurants are pushing harder to drive orders from their own websites and offering special deals for customers that use their in-house delivery people.

        The simple fact is that these delivery apps are here to stay. They are enormously popular and have significantly grown. I believe that restaurant owners that resist these apps are hurting their brands by missing out on potential customers. The good news is that the delivery platforms are not as evil as some would portray them. They have some skin in the game. They are competing against other services. They want their listed restaurants to profit. Maybe instead of fighting, the nation’s restaurant industry needs to proactively embrace the delivery service industry and figure out ways to profitably work together.

The Guardian. 02 December, 2020. Adaptado.

        Fatbergs are a growing scourge infesting cities around the world— some are more than 800 feet long and weigh more than four humpback whales. These gross globs, which can cause sewer systems to block up and even overflow, have been plaguing the U.S., Great Britain and Australia for the past decade, forcing governments and utilities companies to send workers down into the sewers armed with water hoses, vacuums and scrapers with the unenviable task of prying them loose.  

        "It is hard not to think of [fatbergs] as a tangible symbol of the way we live now, the ultimate product of our disposable, out of sight, out of mind culture," wrote journalist Tim Adams in The Guardian. 

        At their core, fatbergs are the accumulation of oil and grease that's been poured down the drain, congealing around flushed nonbiological waste like tampons, condoms and baby wipes. When fat sticks to the side of sewage pipes, the wipes and other detritus get stuck, accumulating layer upon layer of gunk in a sort of slimy snowball effect. 

        Fatbergs also collect other kinds of debris—London fatbergs have been cracked open to reveal pens, false teeth and even watches. 

        Restaurants are a big contributor to fatbergs: Thames Water, the London utilities company, found nine out of 10 fast-food eateries lacked adequate grease traps to stop fat from entering the sewers. Homeowners also contribute to the problem by pouring grease and fat down the sink. 

        Even though its component materials are soft, fatbergs themselves can be tough as rocks. Researchers have found a host of dangerous bacteria in fatbergs, including listeria and e.coli. 

        Fatbergs are notorious for their fetid smell, which can make even the hardiest sewer workers gag, and chipping away at one can release noxious gases. 

        The key to fatberg prevention is remembering the four Ps: Pee, poo, puke and (toilet) paper are the only things that should be flushed. 

Newsweek, 14 March, 2019. Adaptado.

        Fatbergs are a growing scourge infesting cities around the world— some are more than 800 feet long and weigh more than four humpback whales. These gross globs, which can cause sewer systems to block up and even overflow, have been plaguing the U.S., Great Britain and Australia for the past decade, forcing governments and utilities companies to send workers down into the sewers armed with water hoses, vacuums and scrapers with the unenviable task of prying them loose.  

        "It is hard not to think of [fatbergs] as a tangible symbol of the way we live now, the ultimate product of our disposable, out of sight, out of mind culture," wrote journalist Tim Adams in The Guardian. 

        At their core, fatbergs are the accumulation of oil and grease that's been poured down the drain, congealing around flushed nonbiological waste like tampons, condoms and baby wipes. When fat sticks to the side of sewage pipes, the wipes and other detritus get stuck, accumulating layer upon layer of gunk in a sort of slimy snowball effect. 

        Fatbergs also collect other kinds of debris—London fatbergs have been cracked open to reveal pens, false teeth and even watches. 

        Restaurants are a big contributor to fatbergs: Thames Water, the London utilities company, found nine out of 10 fast-food eateries lacked adequate grease traps to stop fat from entering the sewers. Homeowners also contribute to the problem by pouring grease and fat down the sink. 

        Even though its component materials are soft, fatbergs themselves can be tough as rocks. Researchers have found a host of dangerous bacteria in fatbergs, including listeria and e.coli. 

        Fatbergs are notorious for their fetid smell, which can make even the hardiest sewer workers gag, and chipping away at one can release noxious gases. 

        The key to fatberg prevention is remembering the four Ps: Pee, poo, puke and (toilet) paper are the only things that should be flushed. 

Newsweek, 14 March, 2019. Adaptado.

        If you take a look at my smartphone, you’ll know that I like to order out. But am I helping the small local businesses? You would think that if you own a restaurant you’d be thrilled to have an outsourced service that would take care of your delivery operations while leveraging their marketing might to expand your businesses’ brand. However, restaurant owners have complained of lack of quality control once their food goes out the door. They don’t like that the delivery people are the face of their product when it gets into the customer’s hand. Some of the delivery services have been accused of listing restaurants on their apps without the owners’ permission, and oftentimes publish menu items and prices that are incorrect or out of date.

        But there is another reason why restaurant owners aren’t fond of delivery services. It’s the costs, which, for some, are becoming unsustainable. Even with the increased revenues from the delivery services, the fees wind up killing a restaurant’s margins to the extent that it’s at best marginally profitable. Therefore, some restaurants are pushing harder to drive orders from their own websites and offering special deals for customers that use their in-house delivery people.

        The simple fact is that these delivery apps are here to stay. They are enormously popular and have significantly grown. I believe that restaurant owners that resist these apps are hurting their brands by missing out on potential customers. The good news is that the delivery platforms are not as evil as some would portray them. They have some skin in the game. They are competing against other services. They want their listed restaurants to profit. Maybe instead of fighting, the nation’s restaurant industry needs to proactively embrace the delivery service industry and figure out ways to profitably work together.

The Guardian. 02 December, 2020. Adaptado.

    I knew TikTok existed, but I didn't fully understand what it was until a few months ago. I also realized that something radical, yet largely invisible, is happening on the internet - with implications we still don't understand.

    When I was growing up, I took it for granted that the people who became famous enough to be listened to by a crowd had worked hard for that accolade and generally operated with the support of an institution or an established industry.

    The idea that I, as a teenager in my bedroom, might suddenly communicate with 100,000 people or more, would have seemed bizarre.

    Today's kids no longer see life in these hierarchical and institutional terms. Yes, their physical worlds are often constrained by parental controls, a lack of access to the outdoors and insane over-scheduling.

    But despite that (or, more accurately, in reaction to that), they see the internet as a constantly evolving frontier, where it is still possible for a bold and lucky pioneer to grab some land or find a voice. Most voices on the internet never travel beyond a relatively small network, and much of the content that goes viral on platforms such as TikTok, YouTube or Instagram does so because of unseen institutions at work (for example, a public relations team aiming to boost a celebrity's profile).

    Fame can suddenly appear - and then just as suddenly be taken away again, because the audience gets bored, the platform's algorithms change or the cultural trend that a breakout video has tapped into goes out of fashion.

    For a teenager, social media can seem like a summer garden at dusk filled with fireflies: spots of lights suddenly flare up and then die down, moving in an unpredictable, capricious display.

    Is this a bad thing? We will not know for several years.

Financial Times. 5 February 2020. Adaptado. 

    I knew TikTok existed, but I didn't fully understand what it was until a few months ago. I also realized that something radical, yet largely invisible, is happening on the internet - with implications we still don't understand.

    When I was growing up, I took it for granted that the people who became famous enough to be listened to by a crowd had worked hard for that accolade and generally operated with the support of an institution or an established industry.

    The idea that I, as a teenager in my bedroom, might suddenly communicate with 100,000 people or more, would have seemed bizarre.

    Today's kids no longer see life in these hierarchical and institutional terms. Yes, their physical worlds are often constrained by parental controls, a lack of access to the outdoors and insane over-scheduling.

    But despite that (or, more accurately, in reaction to that), they see the internet as a constantly evolving frontier, where it is still possible for a bold and lucky pioneer to grab some land or find a voice. Most voices on the internet never travel beyond a relatively small network, and much of the content that goes viral on platforms such as TikTok, YouTube or Instagram does so because of unseen institutions at work (for example, a public relations team aiming to boost a celebrity's profile).

    Fame can suddenly appear - and then just as suddenly be taken away again, because the audience gets bored, the platform's algorithms change or the cultural trend that a breakout video has tapped into goes out of fashion.

    For a teenager, social media can seem like a summer garden at dusk filled with fireflies: spots of lights suddenly flare up and then die down, moving in an unpredictable, capricious display.

    Is this a bad thing? We will not know for several years.

Financial Times. 5 February 2020. Adaptado.