The text below was discovered on frayed parchment jutting out from the breast pocket of a failed conman. He had died faking his own death – a final error in a life riddled with them. Something about a cliff and a banana peel. The details are hazy. The charlatan in question, Diego “Dougie” Desvergonzado, dabbled in just about everything in his short, unproductive life. He kept parakeets who could supposedly recite all of Cervantes. But really, they could barely chirp “Miguel.” He built a small door frame that was an alleged portal to paradise, “Dante’s Doorway.” But again, this proved to be nothing more than a shoddily-constructed piece of termite-infested driftwood, amateurly slapped together at the behest of a recently defrocked priest searching anywhere for meaning. Desvergonzado claimed to be the mayor of a small town in Northern Michigan, on account of his royal lineage.
I swear by all the cheats and liars who’ve come before me and by every God, Goddess, pigeon, rat and barnyard animal that ever gave me the time of day, making them my witnesses so that I will honor this oath. But since it’s an oath about hypocrisy, I don’t even have to honor the end of this sentence with a period.
If there’s one thing to uphold in a life of deception, let it be this: your rank unreliability. To hold this up has taught me that lying is equal parts art and science. Though how we measure it is usually up to meddling jurists. The truth about having a conscience is that the mere possession of one is what makes life complicated. You see, without a conscience, you never have to worry about going against it. Having no ideals or principles means never having to break them. There’s nothing contradictory about living a life that shifts with the rising and ebbing tides.
So if you’re doing it right, if you’re doing it successfully, you’re making it up as you go along. You are whomever you say you are. It’s not for others to decide – it’s for them to believe. In this way, you’re like an actor, but not one stuck in a poorly written role. You can rewrite it every day, finding a new character to bring fleeting joy to strangers and financial rewards to you. Practice whatever you preach and preach whatever you want.
Be different things to different people, whoever they may be. I don’t have to tell the truth, and neither do you. What’s the truth anyway? What good is making a list of pros and cons to a pro con?
I will not ever go against a profit even if that means going against a prophet. Whatever towns or villages I may visit, I will come for the benefit of my bank account and nothing else, remaining inscrutable and circumspect. I will work for circuses and carnivals if they’ll still employ me (enough time should've passed to forgive the trapeze incident). I’ll avoid law enforcement and use fake names when dealing in really nefarious stuff.
I’ll do it my way, which could be your way. While Frank Sinatra sang it, Paul Anka wrote it. Let that be a lesson to us all. What I see or hear in the course of my travels I will use against others as blackmail, extortion and general malfeasance. I won’t keep anything to myself ever – where’s the fun in that? Holding onto shameful things is bad for one’s health, so you must free your mind, as well as your lips.
If I don’t fulfil this oath and violate its precepts, I’ve actually fulfilled it in another way. There’s no way I can lose at this point. I’ll be honored with fame, fortune and infamy. But I’m not here to make friends, just money. Up is down, but up also up. If I transgress, which I will – repeatedly – may all my dreams come true.
Your dis’ob’nt ser’vnt,
D. Desvergonzado, July 5, 1810
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