Once upon a time, a country lost its way. It became acceptable to lie: in business, in advertising, and especially to get or keep a government job. At first it was small lies about personal foibles and future intentions. Soon it was whopping, HUGE lies about what had been done and what was next.
“Everybody lies!” cynics claimed, as if that made it okay. Party liners insisted that only the Other Side lied. Good people knew that lying was wrong, but they didn’t know how to stop it.
One day a man appeared. Nobody knew where he came from, and he never gave his name. He stood on the Capitol steps, asking as people passed, “Do you seek truth?
Some answered, “I try.” Nodding, the man would say, “Keep trying.”
A Congressman who’d only the day before boasted that his party would lead the nation into “long-term gain” after “short-term pain” stopped to answer the query.
“Of course I seek truth,” he said with his familiar, slimy smile. “I represent the honest people of this nation--”
Before he could finish, the sky darkened overhead. The Congressman looked up, though the questioner did not. A huge, scaly, green-and-black dragon with red eyes, a long tail, and fire shooting from its nostrils swept down and “Hrrrunk!” snapped the Congressman up in his jaws and swallowed him.
Quite a few people saw what had happened. A few had even heard the exchange between the two men. Though the witnesses accurately reported what they’d seen and heard, liars immediately put their own spin on the incident.
At an outdoor press briefing, a blonde woman with artificially plumped lips claimed, “We believe it is possible the death of the Congressman is the work of foreign activists.” At that very moment the sky darkened again. The shadow of the dragon fell over her, and “Hrrrunk!” She was gone, before she could demand that the press show respect for the hardest-working President ever.
It went on for weeks. No one could predict where the man would show up and ask his question, but he seemed able to read the human heart. Those who truly sought honesty were allowed to go on their way. Those who did not were without hesitation, without second chances, devoured by the dragon.
A woman who’d done her own research and therefore knew more than the experts was snatched from her yard and swallowed whole. A pod-caster who claimed aliens from another galaxy control the FBI met his fate as he stood waiting for the lunch special at a taco truck. One Cabinet member after another was given the chance to admit their lies. When they didn’t, they turned from consumers to consumed.
Those who used their positions to amass money and power disappeared down the dragon’s massive gullet. The CEO of a medical insurance company who claimed that no one was suffering under his watch managed to scream, “I can change!” before the powerful jaws closed around him. And ordinary citizens who re-posted lies on social media simply because they confirmed the biases they held dear were snapped up as they left work or played pickle-ball. The dragon’s belly grew especially round outside political rallies.
The nation’s biggest liar boasted to all that he had no fear of the questioner and his dragon. After all, he’d had decades of practice at lying. People said it was amazing how good he was at it. So he wasn’t worried at all when the man stopped him on the way to his helicopter and asked, “Do you seek truth?”
“What a stupid question!” Big Liar replied. “I know more truth than anyone, ever. People call me and say, ‘Please, sir, no more truth! We’ve got so much truth!’ And I say—”
Nobody heard the end of that lie, because the dragon swept in like a Stealth Bomber (which everybody knows you can’t see coming). In an instant, Big Liar was gone.
After that, the man and his dragon disappeared. Apparently, their work was done.
Those left behind wondered if the man and his dragon had come to save us, to scare us, or to remind us that truth must be the basis for any strong society. Whatever it meant, it was up to us to rebuild the nation by demanding truth over lies.
That might have been the Truth Dragon’s intent, but who knows? Maybe liars just taste better than honest folk.