BIG LIE FILE: WHY THE ‘BIG LIE’? JUST WHY?

Big lie options for what to do when things don’t go ‘according to plan?’

In real life we adapt, we adjust, we make new plans to achieve our goals. Whether it’s a new job, a new town, or washing a dog, the new plans include the old to get things done.

Who knew we could bitch and moan, kick ourselves in the ass, and hop around pointing fingers and pushing lies instead instead of being accountable?

Most of us learned about being big liars, and listening to big liars, as kids.

Or should have. I did.

Like most feisty youngsters, I learned about lying from my dad’s backhand. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.

I like to call it the ‘male presence’ in the house.

So I got home late one night, a little after midnight. In the summer of eighth grade.

Who stays out after midnight in the eighth grade? A boy with a girlfriend who had partying big sisters.

What do parents in small towns do when their kid disappears? Call the police and cruise the town.

I took the gravel roads home, the hidden trail, rolled in a mud puddle, and planned a story. I would explain to Ma and Pa how I ran through the bushes and ran through the brambles from some Marshfield bullies I’d flipped off.

My Big Lie Warm Up

I found that if I wanted to spend time with my junior high honey I couldn’t tell my folks that’s where I was going. If I said that they’d invent a job they needed done right away.

Instead, I said I was walking to the ballpark to watch a few games. It was a long walk that started with a side trip to my girlfriend’s house.

I lied about where I was and what I was doing. And it seemed to work.

Then that late night.

I’m wet and dirty and noticed the old man’s car was gone. At midnight.

I walked in and found my mom on the couch with “Wait until your father gets home.”

I was dripping on the rug. She was angry.

Lights flashed in the window signaling a car pulling up in the dark driveway.

“Where Were You?”

My story was that I was at the ballpark for a night game. I walked up Broadway and turned left on Newmark toward Edgewood Terrace.

To spice it up I had a car full of drunk Pirates yelling “Bulldogs suck” so I flipped them off. They stopped and got out and chased me through the swamp. That’s where the filthy clothes come in.

My dad opened the door, gathered the front of my shirt and put me on my tip toes against a wall.

“Where were you?” he asked. I smelled cigarettes.

“I was . . .”

Backhand.

“Don’t lie.”

“I was . . .”

Backhand.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Those two backhands ruined my story, and little did I know, my lying future. Now I look for lies to backhand.

Since I was lying and didn’t want another backhand, we silently stared at each other other. Then I got off my tip toes and went to my room.

The next night I did the same thing, sneaking home after midnight after rolling in a mud puddle.

I told the same story and this time got it out. It was a good story.

My dad: I believe him.

Mom: He’s lying.

Dad: I believe him.

What I learned was my lie made my dad lie to my mom. He didn’t believe me for a second. I could see it in his face.

I was grounded for the rest of the summer to ‘think about it.’

That was my big lie. And that’s when I stopped lying.

The Other Big Lie

When lying hurts others, stop.

The Big Lie I’m piggybacking is one that is hurting more than just those who believe it, who believe that Trump is the lawful President.

It’s doing more than giving hope to weary insurrectionists, conspiracy theorists, and J.D. Vance.

The ripple of the Big Lie is rocking the Republican Party. Can anyone believe they want more half-baked opinions at the same table?

Now that believing the Big Lie is the litmus test for a Trump endorsement, guess who’s coming to legislate.

Ask The Doctor About The Big Lie

“Repetition is important, because the Big Lie works through indoctrination,” Dr. Ramani Durvasula, a licensed clinical psychologist and professor of psychology who is noted as an expert on narcissistic personality disorder and narcissistic abuse, told Salon by email. “The Big Lie then becomes its own evidence base — if it is repeated enough, people believe it, and the very repetition almost tautologically becomes the support for the Lie.”

Let’s do a short review on tautology.

What is a tautological argument?

A tautological argument is otherwise known as a circular argument, that is, one that begins by assuming the very thing that is meant to be proven by the argument itself.

Big Lie?

Hell, yeah.

Fist bump.

“You might think I’m kidding, but…. Nothing sells the Big Lie like novelty t-shirts, hats and banners,” Blanchard told Salon. “These items are normally associated with sports teams, not life-and-death political issues. But [former President Donald] Trump and his circle have deftly used these items to generate the kind of unbridled loyalty Americans associate with pro football.” 

If this is Identity Politics at it’s best, try and do better.