Poet Claude Wilkinson pictures a serpent whose
... tongue was split
with a few dry morsels of truth
and many delicious lies.
When I read those lines this morning I thought of our politics and our whole social contract. That’s what we have on our tongues, so sure of the delicious lies (or at least partial truths) that we savor that we do not taste the dry truth, or truths. So eager to believe what we want to hear that we disregard all the rest that doesn’t taste good to us. Even suppressing dry truth when we want to denigrate even the most worthy and honest of those who see things differently than we see them.
And no, it’s not Donald Trump’s fault. It is ours.
