A Look at Job Creation -OR- How To Make Someone Say Anything… including the President

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been thinking about truth, truth-telling, falsehoods, lying and other machinations of language by and through which we communicate.

Interestingly, I’ve also though of where those items may have intersections of law, law violation, duty, freedom, rights and civic responsibility.

As an illustration, or imaginary case in point, if a police officer asks you a question, a person is most often and typically required to tell the truth. That is, they are required to answer honestly. There are various penalties associated with lying to a Law Enforcement Officer (LEO), which vary state to state, and in various localities.

Here’s something more specific, however. Number one, you don’t have to talk. That’s guaranteed by our Fifth Amendment. And even if there is no possibility of self-incrimination (that is to say, you are not accused of any wrong doing), a person still has no legal requirement to speak.

However, if they do speak, they must

Why is everybody always picking on me?

Why is everybody always picking on me?

Originally posted on Friday, June 4, 2010 at 8:19am

Today, I needed directions, and happening upon one of Murfreesboro‘s finest, I thought ‘what better source?,’ gave pursuit, and tooted my horn occasionally along the way, though I was apparently unseen and unheard.

Winding up at my original destination, I pulled along side and behind, stepped out and greeted the officer, whom then asked, “were you trying to flag me down?”

Laughingly, I said, “yes, I was!”

“I’m sorry,” replied the officer.

I explained I was needing some directions, and the officer left briefly to get some papers and would return momentarily, so I waited.

Returning, the officer said, “I’ll be glad to show you the location if you’ll follow me.” So we got into our respective cars. As I closed my door, I then noticed the officer got out of the patrol car and began to walk toward my vehicle, so I did likewise.

The officer walked over to my vehicle and placing a small piece of paper on my car’s hood began to write on it and said, “Here’s my card, if you need anything, call me. I work (insert days and times here), or just call me anytime. Can you read that?”

Taking the card, I said “yes, thank you,” called her by name, shook her hand, then proceeded to follow her.

Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.

Reckon what THAT was all about?