Urban legends, misinformation, and true crime
the true crime that's worth your time
Every morning, I croak “Alexa, what’s in the news” as I dole out my dog’s breakfast. It’s not that I need this device to keep me appraised of the news (believe me, I’m all too aware), but I’m always curious about what NPR is curating for the people who do rely on their so-called “digital assistant” for updates. And the lead story today, before war or presidential felonies, was on tainted Halloween candy. Or, more specifically, how that whole thing is a myth.
Here’s the Morning Edition segment my Echo played for me, if you’re interested — the TL;DL is that though “Halloween-safety public service announcements and police officers have advised parents to inspect their children's candy before letting them eat it,” the needle/razor blade/poison in candy handed out to kids thing is “absolutely a legend," according to a researcher who combed through every available record going back to 1958.
The timing on this was serendipitous, because just last night I got into a discussion with a restaurant owner who swore that San Francisco dogs were dropping dead left and right because they were eating feces that contained fentanyl. Also false (see this Vice piece for why), also persistent. (And, again, something that we’ve seen perpetuated by the police.) Heating that candy thing this morning, and thinking about how many times today I’m going to hear about tainted candy and will want to “well actually” the speaker, I almost went back to bed.
But I didn’t do that — instead, I turned to you, friends. Let’s talk about urban myths: When you let them slide without argument, when you feel compelled to speak up, why you think arguably authority figures keep them going, which ones drive you bananas, and which ones you think are fun. (I’ll start on that last one: love a cactus spider baby story.) Let’s play out our fact-checking pedantry here in the thread, so we can enjoy our misinformation-filled Halloween without tearing our hair out. — EB