The line between what is true and what is a lie is often blurred. What used to be the truth is now couched in terms like "plausible deniability," or "white lies and half truths," or "political spin."

Sometimes a lie is soft and expected, especially when fishing for compliments. Other times, a lie can be as jarring and cold as picking up the phone and finding a Sarah Palin robo-call at the other end of the line.

There are lies, and there are damned lies.

At the end of the day, however, a lie is what it is: a lie.

There was a time when you could go to Disneyland and get a guided tour of the "jungle" on a ride aptly called the Jungle Cruise. You would board a boat (really just a vessel that rode on a track a couple of feet below the surface of the water), and be guided by a seasoned jungle guide (some pimply kid from Orange County hired by Disney) who would fire a gun (a prop cap gun that made a loud noise) at suddenly emerging hippos and indigenous natives (animatronic robots) as you drifted perilously close to a waterfall (OK, that was real).