Oscar woke up one morning to find that everybody from church that he spoke with that day acted strange around him. They threw little remarks his way that seemed aimed at “fixing” him; fixing some problem that they all knew that he had, and that they knew that he knew that he had.
Only thing is that Oscar had no idea about this thing that was supposed to be wrong with him. You know, the “need” that the buzz machine had, only last week, been cranking out info about.
Why, just last year, the buzz machine had informed all subscribers to its yellow press that Oscar was a trophy; a “real church builder,” the buzz machine had branded him last year.
Last year, after that broadcast by the buzz machine, Oscar woke up one morning to find that everybody from church acted like he was a hero; like he had just rescued the church from horrible peril. Some buzz machine subscribers called Oscar “God’s man for the occasion.”
What occasion? Oscar had no clue. But everybody he met at church in those days threw little remarks his way that seemed aimed at praising him for some heroic deed he had done. They all took for granted that Oscar knew what they meant. He didn’t. And his modesty about the praise the buzz machine subscribers’ gave him only increased their estimation of him. Oscar was “highly appreciated” in the church in those days.
But all that was last year. This year, the buzz machine knew different things about Oscar.
Buzz machines. They have them in most communities where there are large, happy tongues; small, draggy brains; and slow to no internet service.
If you are Oscar, enjoy surfing the waves of gossip that the buzz machine washes up on your beach. Beyond that, do nothing about, or to, or at, the buzz machine.
Lest you attribute credibility to something that has none, and never can.
—Daniel R. Huber