If you scroll far enough through the internet you’ll find inspiration, wisdom, and the occasional nugget of human decency. You’ll also find people who treat inspirational quotes like a wardrobe accessory — slap it on, take a selfie, and call it character.

Today’s exhibit: a post that reads like the back cover of an undeveloped self-help book — “Being a man doesn’t start with testosterone. It starts with truth.” Poignant! Noble! Inspiring! Also, hilariously on-brand for a man who treats truth like an optional accessory he forgets at home.

Let’s be blunt: posting inspirational wallpaper and then treating “truth” like a lost sock doesn’t make you thoughtful — it makes you performative. It’s the social-media equivalent of saying “I love kids” while leaving the sprinkler on and then pretending you’re surprised the yard is flooded.

So here’s the play-by-play of the new sport Mark has been practicing: Step 1 — Pick a virtue. Step 2 — Put it on a filtered photo of yourself doing something vaguely athletic. Step 3 — Repeat until people either clap, scroll, or both. It’s less “manhood as courage” and more “manhood as marketing.”

But let’s not be too generous. If manhood “starts with truth,” then truth should get an invite to every family meeting, every medical discussion, every single decision that affects your kids. Not a cameo. Not a stagehand. Not whatever quiet extra role the truth currently plays in Mark’s production. If the truth were a wedding guest it’d be standing alone in the corner looking for anyone who actually RSVP’d.

For those who prefer satire with a little more sting: imagine a motivational poster showing a knight in shining armor. The caption: “Courage means standing up for what’s right.” Below the image, tiny footnote: “Except when it’s inconvenient. Then click ‘Not Now.’” That’s the vibe.

It’s one thing to struggle with hard truths — everyone does. It’s another to treat truth like an optional update. You don’t get to recycle the language of honor, responsibility, and parenting while outsourcing the hard parts to selective memory and PR-friendly captions. That’s not irony. That’s cognitive contortionism.

Let’s be clear about what honesty looks like in practice: showing up for assessments you were ordered to take, being transparent about times and places and finances that affect your children, answering questions instead of answering with more questions, and carrying through on promises when the cameras are off. Bonus points: admit mistakes without rewriting the script to make yourself the hero. Radical, I know.

And for the social media historians keeping score: there’s an extra level of mastery available for those who can post a quote about truth and then follow it up with actions that match their caption. Imagine the novelty! Imagine the shock! A human who uses words and then does the work? Pulitzer-worthy.

Until then, enjoy the poster. Frame it. Hang it above the mirror. Let it be a lighthouse guiding anyone who’s interested in being an actual grown-up. For everyone else, it’ll stand as proof that inspiration is cheap — accountability, not so much.

Closing line for the scrapbook: “If truth is the starting line for manhood, some folks are still circling the parking lot trying to find it.”