When, If and How

A post about lying

When you think about it, the truth is not so hard to ascertain — it’s not too difficult to tell right from wrong: up from down or black from white. But liars we all are, always have been and always will be. A rambling, then, about why we do it.

Lies.

They don’t come easy, but they do.

They are easy to find because the truth is always harder, is always more difficult and is never fair. Through lies we mitigate, we advocate and advance, the easiest path: the route of least resistance. With lies we smooth the passage, we oil the wheels of progress.

Truth equals friction, equals difficulty and tension; it’s uncomfortable at times — awkward and unforgiving. Truth is what we all think we crave before we understand what we we really fear.

EXPOSURE: revelation; the fact of someone knowing what you think — the detail of someone knowing that you need them too. That is what is most scary, that is why we lie: to maintain the illusion that we are in control, that we (I) maintain the illusion.

Let me talk to you about truth.

If I were to be honest, the most honest thing I could say right now would be:

NO.

Just no.

No, I don’t want any of this, don’t want any of what it looks like I have in my future, nor much of what I have in past.

Just, no.

That would be the truth. Or some of it.

But the lie reads so much better.

Terrified, yes, about what’s to come. But excited and exhilarated too. Amazed, yes, about what we’ve done, but proud and happy too.

Which one is more true?

We lie when we think that an augmented truth — alternate facts — is what you want to hear, that you’d rather hear that everything is all fine than what it really is: chaotic, apocalyptic and dire. We smile and we wave, we say everything is ok because to not would be to open us up to scrutiny: the worst kind of exposure, where actual questions are asked. Ones that demand — and deserve — answers.

We lie by giving half truths, half answers that are easily absorbed. We lie by telling nothing, giving nothing and asking nothing in return. We lie by obfuscation, by diversion and desperation. We fess up to stuff that isn’t real. And we demand reciprocal responses: there is nothing better for a liar than a liar with whom you can share.

Is a lie a lie? Can we ever tell the difference between intended truth and outright fiction. The former is that with which we aim to placate and console: to alleviate and disarm; the latter: to deceive and harm, to overrun and dominate.

I try hard — in life, just as in my writing — to be good, to never lie, to never deviate from the truth as i understand it. I never know if i am up to the task, never know if I am good enough.

But i do know this: that when it comes to the truth, to giving facts a fair hearing, opinion too, even if they are not facts or opinions that match my understanding of them, I embrace them. I tend to publish them too, inviting comment and discourse. That is something I have missed recently, something I wish I had at work.


@tynlyd

There is an awful lot more to this story, as you might imagine. The first part of the story can be found here: http://tinyurl.com/mjlg53g

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