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Everyone tells little white lies.
Don't even start with excuses; I know you've
told at least one. Trust me, though -- you're not alone. Everybody has lied before,
whether it's big or small, and I know I certainly have, too.
It's safe to say I barely fib anymore though, because of one small contract. We have three children
in our family, and my father came up with a particularly interesting idea to
keep us from lying. This brilliant idea was a "lying contract." Even though when
I first got my contract I was only 7, he treated me like a mature adult.
Basically, the contract said that if I were to lie again, I had the right to be
punished. If I lied even once more, a bigger punishment would follow. I signed
the contract and gave it back. I believe he still has it to this very
day. For me, this worked quite effectively, and has taught me to accept the
consequences of my actions.
Now, you may ask, why is this in the Times and what does this have to do with present-day Whyville? Well,
in order to answer that question, I need to start with how I decided to even
write this article.
It was just a little while ago that I decided for the
first time to attend the Wednesday afternoon Media Hour at the Greek Theatre. I hadn't seen any of the suggested
programs, but when I entered I noticed the question, "Under what circumstances
should you lie?" Before answering, I noticed that my new friend JasmineK was sitting next to me.
I had just read her article in the Times! I quickly typed, "I loved your article, Jasmine!" She was nice enough to respond
with a polite 'thank you'. To my surprise, I was invited down to the stage! The
city worker (whose name I
do not remember) asked me about the article. I was so excited, especially when I went back to my seat.
I noticed that another girl had been called down to talk about lying. I remembered
back to my contract, and eagerly started discussing it. The city worker
accidentally called down a different girl, who he thought had said "something about a
contract." She though, was kind enough to say, "Nope. Send me back."
Continuously, the people all around me said that I was the one talking about the
contract. One girl lied and said she had been discussing the contract, and was
invited down. Once on the stage, she started saying how we were all idiots and how
stupid we were.
Finally, I was invited down again. I discussed the article, and the city worker asked
me to write an article for the Times. I was so excited, so of course I said yes!
Once the Media Hour was over, the discussion kept going. I was left alone
on the stage with my good friend Skaterjab, and I couldn't help bringing up the
irony of the girl who lied to get onto the stage.
That's when it came to me
that Whyville is FULL of liars! Not just normal people, but people who do it for
fun. We all know about hackers, who lie to get into somebody's account. If you
ask me, Whyville could certainly use one of those contracts right about now.
This is Emerlynn -- signing off to catch those liars!
Editor's Note: We do have a contract sort of like that -- you accept
it when you first create your account. If you're curious, you can learn
more about it in the links way underneath your bus, below the bus menu.
Do you think Whyvillians should have a more direct contract about telling the
truth and being fair? Would it help? Why?
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