For a day that’s supposed to be about whimsy, this is a sad state of affairs. April Fool’s Day is, in theory, awesome: It's Halloween, basically, but with fewer Slutty Pumpkins. The festival (it is not, in the U.S., technically a holiday) has its origins in rituals of the vernal equinox: Ancient Romans celebrated Hilaria when the weather changed from wintery to summery, making people go a little crazy in the process. Today, ritualized fun-making on or around the first day of April is celebrated not just in the U.S., but around the world (in France, it’s “poisson d’Avril,” or “April Fish”; in India, it’s Holi; in Brazil, it’s “Dia da Mentira,” or “Day of the Lie”). Even Saddam Hussein, apparently, wasn’t immune to a little springtime punking.

Or, maybe he was? I read that thing about Hussein on the Internet—and the trouble with April Fool’s is that, by definition, every little fact concerning it could actually be a ridiculous lie. Did you hear the thing about Taco Bell purchasing a famous national landmark, thus creating the Taco Liberty Bell? Or the one about Burger King coming out with a burger-scented fragrance? Or the one about Google’s new “magic hand” smartphone operating device?

You heard about those things, of course—either now or previously—via the Internet. And the Internet, for better and very often for worse, does not tend to distinguish between stories and facts, between the earnest and the satirical. The World Wide Web is an epistemological free-for-all—which makes it wonderfully democratic, definitely, but which also means that lies can spread on its platforms with, often, as much ease as truths. This is a source of anxiety to news organizations and sociologists; it is the reason Facebook’s mega-awkward “satire” tag exists; it is the reason that, every time some kind of storm hits New York City, some percentage of the American public will end up convinced that sharks have infested the Hudson.

So on the one hand, you could argue against April Fool’s on the grounds that the vast majority of its “jokes” are not, in fact, funny. You could, on the other hand, argue against it on the grounds that the celebration constitutes little more, at this point, than culturally sanctioned assholery. (Google “April Fool’s Day,” and you get stories like “12 April Fools Day Pranks to Make Your Roommate Hate You” and helpful tips about leaving your parents a little gift called a “soy sauce surprise.”) You could argue against it, on the other hand (April Fool’s! most people have only two hands!), on the grounds that April Fool’s has been co-opted by #brands and politicians and all the other interest groups that stand to benefit from a combination of free media and the performance of humor.

Mostly, though, you can argue against April Fool’s on the grounds that the Internet has divested its jokes from the very thing that used to give them their charm: their low-stakes sense of fun.