Member-only story
Truth as a Vibe and Splinterarsing
Truth — What’s Your Vibe?
Athletics track? Lawn? Meadow? Which of these evokes your sort of Truth? Do you want something that can be measured to the split second with an undisputed champion and more-or-less objectively decided second and third place, an aura of triumph, unambivalent well-deserved accolade? Certainty. Predictability. Precision. Here, Truth is a race to the finish in a competition that is powered by the existing engines of privilege, such as attending a private school, having positive role models, not living in a war zone. Outliers are permitted, and always easily recognised as an aberration. They have achieved against the odds, and in a handy twist their achievement is a badge of our good-personhood, thought-through inclusiveness. Medals are given, sponsors win, and the rules of the game don’t change.
Except when it suits the powerful.
Maybe your sentiment for Truth is a lawn: neat, lush, its pleasing monotones easily surveyed. A quick glance and you know what’s what. Trimmed to fit. Nothing bites your bum. You can walk across it with your bare feet confident you won’t feel nettled. Your neighbours have plots like this too.
Beyond this, out of sight and sound and smell lies the wasteland. This is the place where things that don’t fit get dumped.
