lies are strange friends

It's the kind of story that leaves you somewhere between awe and disgust -- the tale of a very good art forger whose works are probably dotted around the world and credited as the real thing.

Is a fake a fake when it works for someone who imagines it's real?

Certainly it throws the art 'experts' into conniption fits, denting as it does their high-brow assessments for which others may pay millions.

And yet, and yet....

It makes me think of spiritual life a bit ... all those fakes masquerading as the real McCoy and yet having the ability to encourage an effort to winkle out the real McCoy.

Lies are strange customers.

Day by day, I forge myself anew.

And that's the real McCoy.