Half Truths

When he’d walk onto a room, everyone would look away. He had the opposite effect of someone with a magnetic personality. He wasn’t an impossible figure to look upon, nor was he the strong, dashing, mustachioed, swashbuckling, a leading man reminiscent of a Wall Street tycoon. He was simply a person who leaked self-assurance at such an alarming rate, people that lacked adequate health insurance feared crossing his slippery path. That, and you never knew when he yelled fire, if it was a warning or a premonition he was having, while asking, if anyone had a light.

He would surely have been assassinated by this point in his biography if it hadn’t been for the idealism that demands, we error on the side of caution. Which is a good steadfast mantra for those selling bullet proof vests, but does little to deter the addictive tendencies of the gambler when he is broke, and has nothing left but his shoes, and a handkerchief. 

William Order believed that fact was but an illusion, placed on earth by the Devil herself, to infatuate those who believed that truth could not be manufactured, for the same price as a lie.

William was a lawyer who found that truth was useful, but only when utilized to dispel the notion that there actually was, such a thing as truth. He saw truth as manipulated facts used to suit a purpose, similar to a lie, but with less integrity, and a dash more hypocrisy. Had it not been for Judge Sniffy, he would have remained a public defender in the basement of the Shamus Olshansky Municipal Court Building, and not become the sole provider of legal expertise to what became known as the Cinnamon Syndicate.

The basement was used to incarcerate those who had forgotten their manners, and entertained the idea they were deserving of being called honorable. The second floor was for the jury, who were asked to keep the trials as brief as possible, in order to keep the escalating costs of incarceration to a minimum. The perspective jurors would come to agreed, but usually not until they had sampled several tumblers of Olshansky’s home brew, which was claimed to carry twice the kick, for half the price. It said as much on the label. It was provided free of charge to jurors who promised to fulfill Judge Sniffy’s suggestions. Siegfried Olshansky was the bail bonds man and food caterer for all the municipal agencies in town. 

William Order had many renowned faults, but none as grievous as the one that would eventually get him hanged. I should disclose at this juncture, that he was not able to tell the truth, for heretical reasons.

William Order was the victor of a one-sided dual held in January of 1943. It took place during the war years when a man of low moral and ethical values, was free according to the First Amendment, to roam the haunts of the underworld unchallenged by those who had trouble deciding which side they were on.

However it wasn’t Order’s cheating at cards, disregard for authority, or his indebtedness that came to be his demise, but an argument over the very thing he proclaimed to confront daily in court, the truth. It was rumored however, that he had never spoken publicly about holding any truths, to be self-evident. 

The fateful night was at the OK Corral.  A western modified enterprise where cap guns were legal, as they lowered the tension to innocuous popping sounds, that allowed the angry to vent their pent-up frustrations, without impairing anyone’s ability leave the premises alive. 

It was at the OK, that William Order crossed paths with a prosecuting attorney from Melbourne, Indiana. The night started out cordially, until the subject of truth was raised. William, immediately began to ridicule the animated explanation of what truth, according to the King James Bible, meant. Skipper Thorndike, the visiting Melbourne prosecutor, didn’t like the idea of having something he held near and dear to his wallet, being laughed at, by who he considered a self-righteous baboon. He believed William Order, believed in nothing. The argument drew quite a crowd.

The majority of those looking on had no opinion about the truth, one way or the other, as it did not impact their social standing or bank accounts. The law as far as they were concerned, was a circus performed for the enjoyment of those who avoided capture. They believed everyone was guilty of some infraction of the law, whether intentional or not. 

Skipper began by addressing those he referred to, as the jury, which he had induced to participate, by buying a round of drinks. After standing, clearing his throat, and smiling that legendary smile of his, he began. “The truth has been implied to be an example of mental gymnastics applied to the tenants of justice, in order to swindle God given rights from people by proclaiming that lies cannot be defended by the truth, because the truth is unaffordable.” A loud round of applause followed, amidst the cries, “set um up again.”

William Orders remained seated. He looked at those gathered, with the traditional disdain of a mob boss lawyer, and began in the gravely drawl he claimed was bestowed upon him by an escaping plantation owner, after the battle of Noting Hill. No one seemed to care. 

“When you think of the truth,” he began as he always did; the speech having been rehearsed for just such a moment.  His intent was to rival the Gettysburg Address in content and appreciation, if only his own. 

He continued, “You think of honor and justice, but rarely freedom. Because freedom, is not based on the truth, but on the perception of truth, and that is placed on trial itself every two and four years, during our sacred elections. I am sure you have heard the term, to the victor goes the spoils! It is not an idle colloquy on the law, but who writes it, and for how much.”

People began to look nervous. This was beginning to resemble seditious talk, and although people could abide liars and truth Sayers, they couldn’t abide seditionists. The debate, if you could call it that, deteriorated from that point on as the finger pointing began. Shortly the first punch was thrown, the anti-socialist views were impugned, and a shot was fired.

The scene became even uglier when Order stated, “Half-truths are simply lies, pretending to be useful interpretations of personally endowed morality, that exonerates deeds one agrees with.”

It wouldn’t have been unusual, or even noticeable had the bullet that struck the Indiana prosecutor, not been fired from a derringer disguised as a cigar lighter, and brandished by one William Order. Before the smoke cleared, the progressive fascist segment had disappeared out one door, as the conservative leftist party members departed through a trap door in the floor, reserved for just such occasions. 

The bar tender and magistrate, Sniffy Johansen Olshansky was ordered by the mayor, Julian Alliaceous Rambo to preside over the ceremony. He attempted to recuse himself being the only friend of the accused, but justice Rambo was having none of that. He reasoned that if the law was as financially encumbered as attested to by Mr. Order, he should be able to buy his freedom. And it would have worked had the bank sponsoring his unique talent, not become insolvent two days earlier due to a rumor of fiscal misconduct by the clerk, the husband of Sniffy Olshansky.  Progressive laid off coal miners, demanding workers compensation for having given their lives so that the entire country could be electrified, demanded their rights. 

William Order was found guilty, and sentenced by Judge Sniffy to be hanged. Because of the residual effect of prohibition, some of the more arcane laws had been allowed to become part of the State Constitution. There was no such thing as stays of execution back then, as the cost of feeding and housing a criminal had not been privatized as of yet.

William Order tripped on the body of a distraught well-wisher while being led from the courthouse, striking his head on an abandoned coal shovel, and dying immediately. 

According to the laws of the judicial region, once sentence is passed, it must be carried out.  Extenuating circumstances be damned, had become the judicial mantra of the time. That law had been proposed by William Order himself while between political parties, and had passed unanimously in the early morning hours on the Fourth of July, despite the absence of a quorum. William Order was hanged for the murder of Skipper Thorndike despite the objections of several members of the Cinnamon Cartel.   

The debate over truth, lies, and justice, continues to this day. Sniffy started a go fund me page in the local paper on behalf of William Order, in an attempt to erect a suitable monument in his honor. Sniffy would issue, for a mere hundred dollars, a personalized law of your own, that could be utilized anywhere in the United States.  Having it recognized an implementable, according to the Truth Sayers Gazette, remained debatable, as the Presidential election had yet to be decided.