Behold the mighty jackalope…
The human race has always had its storytellers. What would I do if I didn’t tell stories? But is there a point where story-telling goes too far?
TV, movies, radio, books, newspapers: and now the world-wide Internet, YouTube and all that… too much of a good thing? I mean, for how many hours of the day are we plugged in to this stuff? And how do we even begin to tell the difference between “news” and sheer poppycock?
Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this. Maybe it’s because my hip hurts and I’m more afraid of those things in my gut that don’t hurt but will kill me if the doctors don’t kill them first. Or do I just care enough to want to maintain that wall of separation between fiction and fact? If we can even find the facts.
It’s sunny out today. I think I’ll have my cigar.