Every man considers himself a hero and every hero has a journey. Sir Markus Zuck’s was simple: He was on a search for the truth. It’d proven difficult for him and so many others to find. Where had it gone, this truth? Had someone stolen it from the people? Was a villain hiding it in their lair?
Sir Zuck didn’t know why this burden was his to carry. Why had the Media of the Round Table chosen him? He had been a young squire who wanted some friends. It didn’t matter if he never saw them in person or interacted with them in any meaningful way. That big, giant number of all his friends lighted the screen and everyone could see it and never again say he didn’t have any friends. Thus was his inspiration for the Holy Scripture: The Book of Faces.
But the kingdom had gone and elected an orange-faced dragon as ruler. Trebuchets lofted accusations that The Book of Faces had spread fake news and influenced the people to make this decision. “A pretty crazy idea,” Sir Zuck had responded. “Identifying the ‘truth’ is complicated…I believe we must be extremely cautious about becoming arbiters of truth ourselves.”
In Facebook We Trust
Yet within Sir Zuck’s Knighthood of the Faceless, tension rose among the ranks. These knights did not share such an optimistic view like their leader. Their antagonistic whispers even traveled to that dread-awful fiefdom, the land of Times, and word soon spread across the kingdoms: Perhaps the Book of Faces was to blame.
Even his own creation betrayed Sir Zuck.
https://twitter.com/tomwarren/status/797964292599545856
How had it come to this? So generous, Sir Zuck considered himself. Had he not gave away The Book of Faces free of payment? Had he not produced flying beasts to transport The Web of Wide Worlds into the peasants’ hands freely? This was what a good knight did, no?
But the Media of the Round Table accused him of nefarious deeds. All Sir Zuck wanted was more folks to read The Book of Faces. That was his sole motivation.
“The blasphemy!” Sir Zuck raged quietly. “Don’t these nitwits know the power I’ve bestowed? Do they!”
Sir Zuck was venting one again to his robot steed, Greycoat. Legend had it Greycoat made the finest toast in all the land, preparing it for Sir Zuck precisely when he wanted. But these were not times for such frivolities as toast! The truth had disappeared! No one could find it! And it was up to Sir Zuck to once again save the people.
The Tilting Windmills
So he rode out, chasing the tilting windmills, slaying the dragons (but not the orange-faced one), and giving hope once again to the peasants, all while searching high and low for this “truth.” But he just couldn’t obtain it. Downtrodden, he wrote on The Book of Faces, “Identifying the ‘truth’ is complicated.”
He paused. He had made camp near the water, and walked towards it now. The still surface provided Sir Zuck a glimpse at his reflection. Was the face starting back at him truly so vile? Why had forces attacked his defenses? Did they not remember the gift he’d given? He’d bestowed every royalty, every knight, every peasant that elusive commodity in these kingdoms. He’d granted them friends. Didn’t they see how he was sort of kind of trying to do better while expanding his reach? Maybe that was it! Maybe they didn’t know all Sir Zuck was doing.
He returned to camp and finished his post on The Book of Faces. He reminded the people a great many of things: that just 1 percent of Facebook news was fake, and that both sides were lying so what did it matter? Most of all, he told people he was trying. Because wasn’t that enough: To say you’re trying with no discernible plan of action publicly even while you’ve potentially had the secret all along privately?
Sir Zuck certainly thought so. Truth was found once again. Kind of.
