Age of Post Truth

We tell our lies in velvet, we slip truth-like ash beneath each word, pausing when facts fascinated. The truth was never ready-made, but bent — bending now we catch illusions in our basket, exchange, and taste them like candies. It takes dawn to realize the darkness okay this long. As if poetry was still to come; as if each word wasn't already debris of inner dystopia, no country's anymore divided between yours or mine, but between what we accept and what we deny of ourselves.

my problem with the expression is that it turns truth into a psychic time and place we are forever barred from the way we got kicked out from the garden after we snacked on an apple and the snake god pulled the rug. Post truth means we failed irreparably or lost something that was right there and you went and did it and how could you and now it's gone forever and I wonder if post shame or post guilt or post narrativist manichaeism might do the trick because I'd like to smile at people without hedging and who knows maybe in the post post truth world which is the world itself maybe your dating pool doubles or triples.