Peter Marshall: “Eddie Fisher recently said, ‘I am sorry. I am sorry for them both.’ Who was he referring to?”
Paul Lynde: “His fans.”

Marshall: “According to Tony Randall, ‘Every woman I’ve been intimate with in my life has been…’ what?”
Lynde: “Bitterly disappointed.”

Marshall: “Paul, how many fingers in the girl scout salute?”
Lynde: “Gee, I don’t remember. The last time I saw it was when I didn’t buy their cookies.”

Marshall: “Paul, does Ann Landers think there is anything wrong with you if you do your housework in the nude?”
Lynde: “No, but I have to be terribly careful when I do my ironing.”

Marshall: “Paul, any good sailor knows that when a man falls off a ship you yell ‘Man overboard!’ What should you shout if a woman falls overboard?”
Lynde: “Full speed ahead!”

Marshall: “What are ‘dual-purpose cattle’ good for that other cattle aren’t?”
Lynde: “They give milk… and cookies, but I don’t recommend the cookies.”

Marshall: “Paul, why do Hell’s Angels wear leather?”
Lynde: “Because chiffon wrinkles too easily.”

Marshall: “According to the IRS, out of every 10 Americans audited, how many end up paying more taxes?”
Lynde: “11.”

Marshall: “What’s the one thing you should never do in bed?”
Lynde: “Point and laugh!”

Marshall: “In ‘The Wizard Of Oz’, the Tin Man wanted a heart, and the Lion wanted courage. What did the Straw Man want?”
Lynde: “He wanted the Tin Man to notice him.”

Marshall: “In the Shakespearean play ‘King Lear,’ King Lear had three of them – Goneril, Cordelia, and Regan? Who were they?”
Lynde: “King Lear had Goneril?”

Marshall: “Paul, everyone knows the first verse: What shall we do with the drunken sailor? / What shall we do with the drunken sailor? / What shall we do with the drunken sailor? / Early in the morning? But what is the first line of the next verse?”
Lynde : [singing] “Put him in bed with Elizabeth Taylor / Put him in bed with Elizabeth Taylor / Put him in bed with Elizabeth Taylor / Early in the morning.” [audience laughs] “How disgusting… that poor sailor!”

Marshall: “True or false, Paul Revere had 16 children?”
Lynde: “From ONE midnight ride?”

Marshall: “Back in the 1870s, Emile Berliner invented something, and without it, I wouldn’t be able to do my job. What was it?”
Lynde: “Let’s see… toupees? Facelifts? Contact lenses?”
Marshall: “Now cut that out!”
Lynde: “Makeup? Capped teeth? Loud sports jackets?”

Ernest Hemingway once said, “All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.” The task seemed simple then.

But today, truth feels like a rarer currency, something we barter rather than believe.

News has become selective. Social media algorithms feed us content tailored to our preferences, while partisan outlets push stories that align with their viewers’ beliefs. Instead of seeking facts, we curate them like playlists, choosing the narratives that fit our worldview.

In this fragmented landscape, the question remains: Are we trading in truth anymore?

Truth, as a commodity, used to be non-negotiable. News was once the pursuit of fact, an honest reckoning with what happened, and where it might lead. Now, we buy and sell versions of the truth that suit our personal narratives.

We choose networks and feeds like we choose products. Want a reality where your side is always right? Fox and MSNBC offer a buffet of confirmation. Want to believe facts are optional? Plenty of outlets will cater to your taste.

Maybe truth hasn’t changed. Maybe we have. We no longer ask if something is true, but if it aligns with what we want to believe.

That’s dangerous. Once truth becomes flexible, the consequences are rigid. It allows leaders to claim “alternative facts,” to sell conspiracies, and to weaponize belief. What’s more, it allows us to accept those lies, as long as they match our worldview.

We curate facts as we curate playlists. It’s easy to tune out the inconvenient, and who needs the whole story when you’ve got the bits that suit you?

But Hemingway’s wisdom still holds. Write one true sentence. Speak one true word. If we stop trading in truth, we lose not just the news but the reality we live in.

Truth is not just a commodity; it’s our compass.

Without it, we’re lost.