Post Truth: an era exempt from lies

    Greetings from the Ridge.
    No doubt about it, I was born too early. I remember the day in my first grade classroom when Mrs. Walker put her hand on my shoulder and I jumped. She was reciting our spelling test, giving each of our ten weekly words aloud, when she came up behind me and said, “What’s that?” I responded with the standard answer from any first-grader, “What?” She said, “That paper between your legs.” My five-year-old scheming mind had come up with a way to get a perfect score on my test by writing the list of words on a small piece of paper and then conveniently tucking it between my thighs. Heck, I could out-smart any schoolteacher. Wrong.
    She reached down and snatched the list, looked at me through the tops of her bifocals and said, “Is this the first time you’ve done this?” I was caught. The only way out of this situation was a bald-faced lie, so I said, “Yes, Mrs. Walker. It’s the first time. I promise.” Somewhere in the recesses of her heart of compassion or perhaps pity, she sighed and said, “Don’t do it again.” I promised that I wouldn’t and I didn’t. For the life of me I don’t remember cheating another time in my entire school career, but of course my memory is fuzzy.  Had I only been a first-grader in 2017 I could have avoided the fib and simply “backed my statement down.”
 

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