This just in from a loyal reader who works as an Ad Exec in downtown Boston. The report describes a hair-raising episode that, on the examination of further evidence, turned out to be slightly less traumatic than originally thought.
Dear View from the[Plymouth] Rock Guy,
What a morning. I arrived at work under ENEMY FIRE. We had to duck our heads and run to our desks. It was really dangerous. Oh wait. The security camera footage is now showing that I rolled in five minutes late, got coffee and stood at my friend Larry’s cube talking about golf for 17 minutes, before strolling to my desk. Guess I misspoke. Whatever. I talk a lot.
The Clinton lies are falling like snowflakes during Christmas in Cambodia. How many bald-faced whoppers must this shrew be caught in before even the MSM abandons her?
Signed,
Confused in Boston
Dear Confused,
We feel your pain. But as Marshall McLuhan, or some other famous guy, once said, Insistent heart-felt perception has the potential for becoming the bed rock of manufactured reality. Or, put another way: Who you gonna believe, me or you own senses?
Yes, those rascals, the Clintons, do have a way of twisting the truth. At the same time, however, they have also invented a convenient third alternative between the staid old absolutes of lies and truth that converts falsehoods into truths through aggressive repetition. While the naysayers say nay, I say, stick to your guns. Be proud of your poise under fire, even if it was hallucinatory. As that old sage, Al Sharpton once said, "It could have happened that way."
No comments:
Post a Comment