"Oh, what tangled webs we weave, When first we practise to deceive!"

Dateline: August, 1998 -- Jacquelyn M. L. Ledgerwood of Oklahoma City, in a four-way runoff for the Democratic nomination to the US Senate, captured 21 percent of the vote, finishing second to the winner.

Trouble is, according to Ron Jenkins of the Associated Press, Ms. Ledgerwood had died of a heart attack in mid-July, reportedly too close to election day for her name to be removed from the ballot. One can only speculate about the motives of town officials who left the ballot unchanged; I'm sure a few thousand chagrined voters wondered, too.

Dateline: circa January, 1964 -- Ludwig Muller, a sophomore at the University of California Berkeley, amassed 18 credit hours before the dean discovered he was really a dog, enrolled as a student under fictitious credentials by a group of fraternity brothers. Ludwig, a stray retriever who made the Student Union fountain his adopted home, "Never missed a day of classes," fraternity brother Jones commented, "So we figured he deserved as much credit as the rest of us!"

Computerized enrollment made the masquerade possible. As a Berkeley student at the time, I thought this a harmless and clever prank, befitting a campus town where I was once seated next to a poodle named Pierre, decked out in black beret, white collar and bow tie!

Every good story contains a bit of a twist. Without an element of surprise -- just a touch of wickedness or chicanery -- there's nothing there, after all, to tantalize or engage the listener. But at what point does that touch of deception lose its entertainment value or possibly lead to harm?

"Americans are just naturally gullible," a Swiss friend of mine insists. "America is a nation of sheep who will believe anything if it's presented convincingly enough. No one here thinks for himself!"

"On the contrary," I argue. "Americans choose to be fooled. We purposely exaggerate just for the sport of it. No one really believes the claims made by advertisers or politicians. When it really counts, Americans generally make reasoned decisions based on fact."

Trouble is, the sport of exaggeration has become so ingrained, that we can lose the semblance of truth. Warnings aside, we believe what we hear, read and see because we choose to, often too busy or too lazy to do otherwise.

It wouldn't surprise me to learn that I had voted for a recently deceased person or an impostor, because I have, on occasion, voted by blanket criteria, such as party affiliation or gender. Even though I've become a better informed, more independent voter over the years, I'm still susceptible to campaign rhetoric and promises. Twice I voted for Clinton; lots of people did. He's a brilliant and convincing orator; so much so that I pushed myself to suspend disbelief every time he changed direction with the prevailing political winds. Those tangled webs we weave include threads of self-deception, too.

Dateline: January, 2001 -- Clinton and Gore's fall from power into disgrace set the stage for unprecedented upheaval in American politics. Last November's election swept incumbents out in record numbers and replaced them with college professors, doctors, corporate executives, writers, educators and entertainers. Bill Gates tried to buy the Presidency, but the Winfrey-Greenspan ticket won in a landslide.

Now there's a millennium-twist for you!

Link: Lying: An American Pandemic?