Published: August 25, 2008 08:32 pm         

Our Readers Speak - Tuesday, Aug. 26, 2008

Everyone lies because truth is dangerous



No one can say when the first lie was told, but it is certain — as Mark Twain noted — that the lie as a recreation, a solace, a refuge in times of needing a friend, has never suffered restraint or interruption. Called by some a curse, the devil, a dark Muse, man’s coldest yet surest friend, his immortal side, which will forever abide while lawyers and politicians roam the earth. It would not be polite to my elders — and my superiors, reading this paper — to acknowledge their spirit of fault finding, or ask some of you where you learned the fine art of slanting the truth; of saying one thing and meaning something else; of the flattering ways some of you can twist untruth into a seeming picture of truth, and come to believe “it is the truth” yourselves.

Lying, as we all know, is a necessity of circumstances, and is taught in our schools, books, on TVs and in churches, and yes — dear reader — in newspapers. We are told that truth should not be spoken or written all of the time (we may offend the Christian, the Republican, the coal miners, the soldiers, children...). White lies are best for cultivated society. Never lie to hurt but to uplift and help a person. And we find that if “everyone” could or would tell nothing but the truth, then one could “live” in such a sane world.

Yes, everybody lies — as Twain vows — every day; every hour, awake, asleep, in our dreams, our joys, and tragedies; for no matter how he or she may try to keep their tongue still, their hands and eyes and body will quickly undeceive the wise observer of human nature. We live only to deceive!

Most of us lie and hate it; others love it and practice the craft every second they can. The highest perfection of the lie is only a beautiful edifice of sand, built of base material, of eye-appealing and gilded forms of politeness (thinly veiled) and unselfish lying. Civilizations were built upon lies.

We obviously cannot really handle the brutal truth. Editors, myself, and a few others play from time to time at eradicating untruths — but we fool only ourselves. For many wars have started not by merit of lying, but by stating the facts without heeding the consequences. Truth is the dangerous weapon.

So who will next loose an epistle from a warped Muse or Cupid, well-meaning but insane — and offer a gift of happy lies? You or I? Stinking to high heaven, it never the less is a universal smell we’ve grown used to — that lie. Such small things? One is never enough.



Lonnie Bailey

Pineville