Despite the years marching on I have not grown into a cynic. Thank dog for one of his smaller mercies.
Which is why, yesterday morning, I was chilled to the bone. And wished I were five again to run to either my mother or grandmother to make it all better, nay, take it all away.
I quote “Ask me what you want to know, but I won’t tell you the truth, of that you can be sure,” saying she liked the passage [of another author].
“Of that you can be sure” … Breathe in, breathe out.
Let’s leave aside who “she” who “liked the passage” is. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the content of the quote (incidentally by an author I have on my shelf for good reason, namely, Italo Calvino). Who knows in what context Calvino said those words. But HER liking not telling the truth? And this on publishing her AUTObiography?
The pole of my esteem I hold others in I don’t grease that much. One needs to make allowances, and that way most stay up there high. Those hell bent on getting down can always jump or use their own spit. But, by golly, when someone’s spouting chills me (see above) to the bone I am on red alert. Whoever “she” is I’d not trust her with my frying pan.
Which reminds me: Why, when in court, are even atheists, agnostics, expected to swear on the bible to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? One would hope so. But why on the Bible? Being made to swear on your grandmother’s grave possibly more effective in making you think twice before bending that “truth” to your advantage.