Two weeks ago, page 3 of the Independent was our annual April Fool’s fake front page. We’ve done this for five years, and you might think that readers would have caught on to the joke by now. But no — we heard from quite a few who took our made-up news at face value, at least at first.
We’re not really trying to deceive anyone, of course. There are plenty of clues that it’s not for real: the fact that there’s a second front page inside; the label “April Fool’s Day Special Edition” at the top left; the motto “Unhinged news for Outer Cape Cod”; the April 1 dateline; the listings for “Turkey Sightings” and “Rock Lobster” (page B52) in the index.
But I have to admit that part of the pleasure in coming up with ideas for April Fool’s stories is finding absurdities that have the ring of truth about them. Had any of the readers who were fooled by the story “Provincetown Inn to Reopen as Margaritaville” seen the actual news stories about the Cape Codder Resort & Spa in Hyannis reopening this summer as the Margaritaville Resort Cape Cod? Did they recognize the blurb about how the design team “will seamlessly blend Margaritaville’s casual luxury with the beauty of the Cape Cod National Seashore” as the precise words actually used by the new owners of the hotel about their Hyannis project?
The story that made people maddest was “Delinquent Dogs Will Be Read To,” taking off preposterously from the recent canine case in Eastham. One resident at the dangerous dog hearing last week berated the select board for imposing such a ridiculous punishment and had to be informed that our article was an April Fool’s joke. “Not funny, Ed, not funny at all,” wrote another reader who signed himself “Former Subscriber.” And someone named Steve left me a voicemail saying, “Is this a joke? If it isn’t, it’s unbelievable. If it is, why is it in your paper?”
That’s a fair question. Do jokes about serious matters have any value? I think they do.
Stephen Orr wrote from Truro to say he was briefly taken in by “George Santos Slept Here,” believing that the disgraced Long Island Congressman really had moved to town. But then he got to thinking: “Where the hell is West Truro?”
He was mad for a minute, he said, and then he was tickled at having been duped. His note was a reminder that recognizing what is both believable and fake — and realizing that you were wrong — is fun. It’s also essential in this era of disinformation.
U.S. Rep. Clay Higgins of Louisiana says the F.B.I. entrapped the Jan. 6 Capitol rioters with “ghost buses” full of agents provocateurs. He is convinced that the 2020 election was fraudulent and that the coronavirus was a government plot. The House leadership has made him chair of a subcommittee on border enforcement.
How could this happen? We all need more practice at identifying foolishness and re-evaluating where to direct our skepticism.
