Let the Ass Kicking Begin
If the truth hurts, let’s bring the pain
Jim Carrey starred as the pathological lying lawyer in the surprising 1997 comedy hit Liar, Liar. Carrey's comic genius combines his ability to contort his body in ways no other human should be able to do and his impeccable punchline timing.
The movie's plot is simple: Carrey’s character Fletcher has a son, and the son wishes that Carrey could not lie for 24 hours. This proves to be embarrassingly difficult, so much so that Fletcher tries to kick his ass in the courthouse bathroom to get a continuance in the trial where he knows he will be in a position to lie. This is where we witness Carrey’s brilliance:
Liar, Liar went on to gross over $300 million on a $45 million budget. Proving that the subject matter, lying, is quite popular, because we made fun of it – like being a bully.
However, about 25 years later, lying has been cemented into our culture as acceptable, and I’m not sure a societal self-ass-beating is going to cure us.
Let’s dive in.
Why Does The Truth Hurt?
Does anyone know where the phrase "the truth hurts" comes from? It’s not rhetorical, I’m genuinely asking. It’s one of those phrases I couldn’t find the origin of. Yet it is an accepted, understandable group of words that resonates with people and projects a reality – the truth does hurt, because somehow we have contorted it into something bad.
There’s an aura of protection when that unwelcome, hurtful truth comes around. No matter what areas of our lives, from work to love, our partners and colleagues shield us from the truth.
We all know the examples:
Chris, it’s not you, it’s me.
Chris, we just aren’t clicking. It’s not your fault.
Chris, where did you put my stuff? You keep moving my stuff. Stop moving my stuff.
These examples could be a status update on your love life or employment. Either way, Chris, you are out.
Truth hurts.
But if the truth does indeed hurt, like a bathroom brawl with yourself, how is lying not worse?
The Deception
Lying is never good. Even if the motivations are good, lying to someone means trying to deceive them, and deceiving someone hurts that person.
I have always found it funny, like in the movie Liar, Liar, where people in a courtroom have to take an oath declaring that they will not lie. If they open the book placed under their right hand and turn to Matthew chapter five, there’s an entire explanation of what your “yes” and “no” mean.
Lying has always been a big no-no. Bearing false witness against your neighbor is number 8 of the top ten commandments God delivered to Moses. We have people in this country who love this top ten list of no-nos so much they want their kids to stare at it every day at school.
All of those commandments have one thing in common: every sin begins with a lie. Grab that courtroom Bible, start at the beginning, and notice that the snake deceived everyone in the garden. Now we have to wear clothes for the rest of eternity. And some of those clothes don’t always fit.
Leaders Who Lie
There’s nothing worse than having a spouse or a leader who lies.
This week in United States history, we are experiencing lies from both.
First, there is, of course, the Trump Improv Presidency, one that began with a lie about Obama, and continues to run right up to the Jeffrey Epstein affair, which I’m guessing breaks all of the commandments at once.
Trump lies all the time, from the enormously consequential (the 2020 election fraud) to the silly (that his uncle taught the Unabomber and then they had a conversation about it).
Now his most adamant supporters are losing their minds that Trump hasn’t released the supposed list of people Epstein had on speed dial to engage in human trafficking and pedophilia.
Trump and his cultists ran on the idea of exposing the Epstein affair. Then, when they won and gained power, they decided there wasn’t anything to expose. Then, when there was pushback on that, Trump reverted to blaming Obama.
Trump’s lies are like a merry-go-round. You go around and around, up and down, but just wait, you’ll return to the same spot.
Then there’s work, where liars punch their time clocks and get ready to screw you over. I can’t count the number of times I have been lied to or, worse, lied about. Imagine sitting in front of someone you work with and just flat out lying to them for whatever reason (the boss/HR/colleague/buddy told you to) just to ensure the outcome you want is done, or you didn’t want to hurt your colleague's feelings.
If you do X for me, then Y will happen
Oh, we were going to promote you, but X, Y, Z, happened.
I'm sorry, but we have to revoke the job offer you accepted because our boss needs to hire the person above you, and he didn’t know we hired you.
Let’s just say some of my workplace experiences have helped more than one therapist afford a nice summer place in South Carolina.
Look at the moment's viral flavor, a perfect example of how lying seeps into the corporate world. A random tech company CEO and the head of HR are having an affair out in public and get exposed at a Coldplay concert, which begs a bunch of questions.
Why are they at a Coldplay concert?
Did someone lie to them and tell them it was Radiohead?
Adultery is number 6 on the commandment list, but remember, you have to do a bunch of lying to get to the point of committing the act. How do you trust someone you work for when you realize out of the blue they lie about having sex with colleagues and have terrible taste in music?
Not Without Sin
Now let’s be honest here. I’m not without sin. Not the adultery part, but on lying. As a kid, I could tell some doozies and wonder in the middle of them, what exactly was the point I was getting to?
When I got older, I didn’t remember lying a lot. When it came to not doing school work, I just said I never made the time to do it, which is true – and painful when grades came in.
I have this thing with Anonymous when she asks me something that could easily pin me to a lie – like – Did you smoke?
I can’t admit it; that would be easy. Lying is not an option, because I’m a grown man, I cleverly reply, “Please don’t ask me that question.”
Isn’t that great?
Please don’t ask me that question.
It is like pleading the Fifth or no contest with your loved one. You are not admitting guilt but also not trying to weasel yourself out of something with a lie.
Who could press you for more information when you have politely asked that they not ask that question? They can ask anything else they want – how was your day, did you do anything fun, what’s for dinner?
Can President Trump take this advice? He could spend days politely asking people not to ask any questions.
No lie
In our movie example, Fletcher decides that lying isn’t worth it, because it could mean he loses his son. He had a Scrooge moment – the idea that he redeemed himself from previous awful ways.
In the real world, the truth hurts too much, lies are currency to power, and Coldplay concerts are crime scenes. Where’s Scrooge when you need him?
I don’t know what we will do, but I’ll keep living my truth and politely asking others not to make me prove it.
What do you think? What’s your “please don’t ask me that question” moment? What’s the worst lie you have told or have been told at work? Are we ever going back to a time when lying wasn’t tolerated?
Anonymous and I are enjoying London—or at least we better be because I wrote this sentence the day before we left, and I’m not going to go back and edit it.
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I have a Maundy Monday Newsletter in the hopper. No lie!
In the meantime, enjoy the weekend!
Okay,
Chris
