"Tell the truth."

most provocative bumper sticker I've seen in awhile. maybe ever. which says something about the extent of my relativism.

black block letters on a white background on a white honda odyssey. and little itty bitty microtext in a line below that, goddamnit, I couldn't from my seat inside my vehicle get close enough to read, even nudging practically right up against the bumper. not even any other accompanying stickers or decals of affiliation or positionality to give a girl a clue as to context. blank fuckin' slate.

I mean, come on-- whose truth, for starters? which truth? are you talking Truth, buddy, like the bible-thumping variety? or the kind-of opposite, verifiable scientific certitude? geezo, that dang thing could mean so many simultaneous contradictory things...

and even so-- even if we're just talking the everyday variety of factual accounts, what he did then what she said-- tell the truth always? and all of it? don't you think there are some cases where that's arguably the least constructive approach to communication?

it's just so fuckin' bald, that imperative. so impossible. that's what pisses me off. of course, it's probably meant well, crafted and marketed and peeled and stuck on the fiberglass with the best of intentions. but seriously. nothing's given me pause like that in days.

which is probably precisely its rhetorical point.

postscript:
yikes. if it's this, well, then I guess I have my answer. I guess it makes sense that I got so pissed off without even knowing exactly why. black and white. exactly. fuckheads.