Can you handle the truth?
Like many people out there battling in their own way the tyranny and the treachery to which we’ve been subjected by our political, media, and bureaucratic ‘Brahmin castes’ (self-appointed as they are), I’m all fired n’ brim-stoned up.
This article is something of a different beast to my past efforts in the truth-telling stakes. It’s more personal. A thing like Covid will do that. My fervent hope is that if my “personal” isn’t already, it will become yours too.
As always spread the love. Liking is wonderful, but it’s only virtue signalling; it might float your boat, but it ain’t gonna do much for anyone else. Or for furthering the cause. Bringing others into the fold was my main objective in penning this.
I implore all to make it yours too. Don’t let this be the time we finally learn—too late—that the only thing we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history…
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES (AN UNEXPECTED LESSON IN TRUTH)
My handle is Greg Maybury. Who I am is not that important. But my message is. I’ve a story to tell, and in doing so I’m going to draw on both my professional and personal experience. I hope what follows resonates with some folks.
First, a bit of humour to get us going, if only because if we lose that, we’re really done. In one of my previous lives I was a high school teacher (an experience I’ll touch on again later). Back in those days I had some hair, and according to many folks I could’ve passed for Jack Nicholson’s kid brother.
This resemblance didn’t go unnoticed by my students at the time. They would often dine out on this by joking about it, occasionally improvising some of Jack the Lad’s more infamous lines whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Now mostly this was done so as to get a laugh or two from their classmates, ‘take the piss’ out of yours truly, as well as I suspect to distract me from my sense of mission.
Which as a teacher was to get the lazy buggers to do some work on occasion! There was a time when one of my more work-shy charges ran out of excuses for why he’d not finished a certain task.
In semi-mock exasperation, I began giving him grief. Saying something like: “I’m sick of your lame excuses mate. Why not just tell me the truth for once? You’re a lazy sod, and can’t be arsed!”
Big mistake on my part.
Without missing a beat, this kid stood up behind his desk, leaned forward with a cheeky grin and just the right touch of dramatic flourish (and right away I saw what was coming). He bellowed to ensure everyone heard: “Mistar Maybury, you can’t handle the truth!”, copping the indelible line — and mimicking to a tee the demeanour and the emphasis — Nicholson himself used in the hit movie A Few Good Men, then doing the rounds in the cinemas.
By this time the class was in uproar. This was not helped by my own inability to stifle the stupid grin on my own dial, even if the ‘comeback’ came at my own expense. Talk about a “Come in spinner!” moment for your humble. It was hard to beat. (As a reward I resolved never to ask the kid again whether he’d finished an activity I’d assigned him. To this day over twenty years later I expect he’s still dining out on the story with all his mates down at the pub in between lockdowns!)
Anyway, lest the point of this yarn be lost on anyone, let me move a bit closer to the purpose of this post. Right from the off we have to ask ourselves, “Can we handle the truth?” of what’s going on with this so-called pandemic, this inflated crisis, this beyond purgatorial Malice in Plunderland pantomime which is playing havoc with our world?
Can we handle the truth about what is being done to our friends and families? Our personal and professional relationships? Our communities? Our schools? Our hospitals? Our social and support networks? Our businesses? Our workplaces? Our lives and lifestyles? Our economy? Our country? And last but not least, can we truly handle the truth about what’s happening to our freedoms under our very noses?