The Truth

If you believe the scattered yet bombastic messages sent to us from every angle of the globe, truth is a relatively malleable thing; moldable and flexible, easily bent into whatever shape the messenger wants to force it into. This method of truth telling presupposes that there is nothing inherently true about the truth, nothing factual about the facts, in fact, nothing beyond finding that which fits the narrative that the supposed "facts" are being formed into. 

How else can we so clearly see those who hold a particular point of view so adamantly defend their position, even when it is shown to be untrue. Well, nowadays a common response is to dismiss the source of the negative proof. The thing in question suddenly turns from the topic at hand to the "unmistakeable" lack of credibility of anyone who questions your perspective. 

For that reason, many have begun to call this, either verbally or through their own actions "The Post Truth Age". Where facts no longer mean anything, yet emotions and opinions govern all. We're a funny lot, us humans, aren't we?

But are we, in actuality "post truth"? Of course not. The truth is like a beacon in the distance, a city on the hill - yet we confuse ourselves willingly. We need to be right. Our egos become wrapped up in it. We are like seekers who see something that might be the truth and then decide to rip out our eyes so as not have to see contradictory evidence. 

But the truth, in all it's glory, is just that, undeniable. It pulses white light into the darkness of our confusion. It makes all of our arguments seem suddenly childish and invalid. It scatters it's critics like small insects underneath a rock. 

The truth can be painful, it can be harsh, frightening, and might prove us wrong. But it is real. And that is beautiful.