The Naked Truth and the Lie

The Truth and the Lie meet  on the road one day. The Lie says to the Truth: “It’s a marvelous day today!”

The Truth looks up to the skies and sighs, for the day was truly beautiful. They walk together for a while, until they reach a beautiful well. The Lie tells the Truth: “The water in the well is very nice, let’s take a swim together!” The Truth, once again suspicious, tests the water and discovers that it indeed, is very nice.

They undress and start the bathe. Suddenly, the Lie jumps out of the well, puts on the clothes of the Truth and runs off towards a nearby village. The furious Truth leaps out of the  well and runs to find the Lie and get her clothes back. The Villagers, seeing the Naked Truth, are horrified and look away with contempt and rage.

The poor Truth returned to the well and disappeared, forever hiding her shame.

And since that day, the lie travels the world, clothed as the Truth.

Epilogue : The naked Lie and the Truth. 2019-2025 versions & timelines

The original Naked Truth and Lie story comes from the 19th Century and here we are 200 years later, in a world of multiverses, the possibility that we’re living in a simulation, the concept of multiple timelines, the Mandela Effect and Apotheum. So it makes sense to explore further where the original story might have moved to, as all the characters were set in place at the end. The Truth in the well and the Lie is traveling the world in her garb.

Setup

The naked Truth dwells in the well, ashamed at how she was seen and treated by the villagers. But 200 years is a long time to dwell in a well for anything, especially the truth. Surely the truth has a purpose? Hiding in a well isn’t really meaningful and there’s not much entertainment down here, reflected the truth. Maybe, she thought, an upwelling is necessary. Because the Lie has traveled the world so long in my garments now everyone has come to believe that it is I who am the liar.  And anyway, it’s so rude of the lie as it should know by now that it couldn’t exist without me, thought the truth.

TimeLine 1

Truth realises that the Lie has left it’s garments behind next to the well. The truth knows that in order not to be hated, the only way she can be accepted by the village and the world is to be covered in the garb of the Lie. And to this day, the Truth and the Lie have been indistinguishable to all except those who have seen them unclothed.

Timeline 2

The Truth stays in the well. Sometimes people come to sit by the well knowing that the Truth is in there. If they’re really sincere, the truth will out and talk with them. They’re OK with seeing her naked and she’s OK since they don’t hate her. Many seekers come looking for The Truth but she only sees them one at a time because The Truth is a very personal experience.

TimeLine 3

Truth searches and finds the web pages, twitter and instagram accounts that plainly showed the lie had infected most everyone. There are literally hundreds of billions and billions of lies. Lies everywhere. But from time to time, truth finds allies – they Love the Truth and have created so many stories about her but none of these are trending and, in fact, many of them are being deleted and downvoted and ignored. The truth suddenly, with a great sigh realised that there is a war being conducted on her by the one who took her garments; the Lie himself.

TimeLine 4

As each year passed, fewer and fewer people took the trouble to visit Truth and the few who happened on her accidentally, found Truth either ridiculous or just plain ugly.

“I must do something,” thought Truth. “If so few people consult me, the Lie who took my clothes must be creating havoc in town. People have forgotten I am here, so I will have to go out and remind them of my existence. But what on earth will I wear?”

She looked around and after a while discovered a fallen scarecrow. As best she could, she dressed herself in sacking, an old jacket and crooked hat and set off towards the town.

And so it was that Truth became a common sight in taverns on the outskirts of the town. Most of the time, she sat quietly listening to conversations. It was obvious that the Lie had done an excellent job of twisting facts, swaying people to believe without seeing and finding amusement in witty dishonesty. On the rare occasions that Truth couldn’t stop herself from speaking, she would be lambasted and thrown out of the tavern for spoiling the mood.

“It’s clear the town doesn’t want me here. They are beguiled by Lie and they also love my sister Story. Maybe I should pay her a visit.”

To get to Story, Truth had to walk down the main street to the bridge over the river Po which was running in a shallow trickle – not at all the lively river Truth remembered. Along the way, those who recognised her, put on their offended faces and those who didn’t, treated her like a sack of stinking garbage. Truth felt so reviled, she hid in a fence until it was dark to avoid abuse.

Night fell and with it, a violent storm of icy rain. It was in a bedraggled state that Truth eventually knocked on Story’s front door.

“Who knocks at my door on such a night!” Story was displeased to leave the fireplace for the cold reception room. She peered through the glass and saw a miserable creature shivering with wet, but the longer she looked the more a feeling of great joy crept up on her. She flung open the door and pulled her long-lost sister into her home,

“Oh how I’ve missed you, dear Truth! Where have you been and for goodness sake, why are you so poorly turned out. Me oh my. Before you tell me a thing, get yourself cleaned up. Bin those rags; your dressing gown is still there, after all this time. Oh I am so glad you are here. You look cold and hungry. I can fix that! I can’t wait to hear everything about you. I see you have suffered but I also see how strong and true you are.”

Story prepared a fireside feast. Her furniture was made for lengthy conversations. The carpets and drapes muffled the outside world. But Truth was tired and was soon overcome by the warm welcome, warm food and luxury of feeling safe. Her bed was clean and warm and the ceiling lit with tiny gems depicting the constellations.

Truth woke up to a bright morning with noisy children in the street outside her window running and shouting: Po is back, Po is back.

“The storm must have dislodged the blockage in the mountain spring,” said Story when Truth joined her on the doorstep. “What wonderful news! Soon there’ll be boating and fishing and riverside picnics. How portentous: Truth and Po arriving at the same time But you must, must tell me what happened to you and where you’ve been.”

“Well, after our argument about fact and fiction, I admittedly didn’t want to see you for a while so I went walking with our cousins, Lie and Gossip. They have always been secretly jealous of us, so they thought it would be a good idea to separate us. They hid my clothes and convinced me that I could make it without you, Story, my wise and patient sister. For a while, I even believed them.”

Story showed Truth the plants in her garden, each one a lengthy memory of someone special who had experienced something exquisite in Time’s smelter. The sisters were glad that they were older, more able to understand why they work so well together.

“Without you, Truth, Story is thin and tasteless. What’s more, Lie and Gossip have become so popular, our friends Empathy and Persuasion would much rather spend time with them. They find me too slow and insipid without your spicy presence. I have become lonely.”

Truth sat down on the grass under a massive tree surrounded by flowers. “Lying in the cold water, naked,” she said, “I realised eventually that history is fearful, awful to look at full in the face, like a Gorgon’s head. The gross greed and wicked works of scary intelligences can be seen sanely only through Story eyes. That made me realise how bravely you have listened to me always. How deeply you thought and discussed with Empathy and Persuasion how best to dress me up to appear at the Royal Audience. How you weave the kindness of the human spirit through the awful truths of our history.”

Later that day, Truth and Story went for a walk to admire the flowing Po, where they reconnected with Empathy and Persuasion who were very pleased to see them. Soon Comedy joined them and pointed to a dull cluster facing away from the river.

“Just look at them!” cried Comedy. “That’s Porky Propaganda and that wild Assumption hanging out with Data! They’re cooking up material for my next comedy show, or maybe even the news!”

“Poor Data. He is so frustrated trying to make himself understood.” Story said and turned to Truth.

“You, Truth, are the best translator Data ever had. He was always calm and happy around you, (you know we all find him boring in the extreme, poor thing) but only Propaganda and Assumption take the trouble to spend time with Data and we all know that their translations are poor and only Ideology laps it up. Look at your old friend!.”

Data was indeed shaking his head, pulling his hair and behaving like a thing demented. A bombastic Propaganda poked his finger at Data repeatedly while Assumption nodded and smiled, nodded and sneered.

“Poor Data hates stupid. Better go and save him.” said Truth and walked towards the huddle, calling for Data and waving her arms. When Data saw Truth, he broke off in mid sentence and raced towards her. Soon they were in deep conversation and Data relaxed into his old self as he enjoyed feeling understood.

Propaganda, who’d been grinding Data to give him numbers to prove a point he very much wanted to make, huffed up when he saw Truth. Hissing, he grabbed Assumption’s arm, put his tweaked nose in the air and pointedly ignored Story, Empathy, Persuasion and Comedy and bustled off to the castle to see Lie and Gossip.

Happy to know that competition is always healthy, the old friends reconnected and all agreed that it was time for Truth to take her rightful place in the Chorus of Sense-makers, as they had once called themselves.

Truth was happy to be home. She thought of how different this day was compared to yesterday, before the storm, before respectable clothes. She was grateful to feel companionship in the home that was built by her parents, Goodness and Beauty.

It’s the story you tell, how you tell it and who you tell it to that motivates people to believe in, buy, work for, pay attention to and invest in your dream. Is the story working for you? Storytelling.co.za

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