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Truth Is Overrated

Lies are sexy and mysterious. Lies illustrate our deepest innovation. Lies make for our most historic moments. Lies are great for business. And above all, lies validate the yawn that is truth. The very health of our gross domestic product depends upon our ability to manufacture lies.

The truth has been something to fight for, something to live for, something to die for.

But the problem with the truth is that nobody believes it anymore. This is a world where fact is distraction and fiction is flawless. The truth is boring. The truth is too…truthful.

But lies.

Lies are sexy and mysterious. Lies illustrate our deepest innovation. Lies make for our most historic moments. Lies are great for business. And above all, lies validate the yawn that is truth.

The very health of our gross domestic product depends upon our ability to manufacture lies.

Without lies, millions of moneyed men and women – congressional folk, cable newsies, corporate barons, lawyers, entertainers, athletes and, of course, organized religionists – would suddenly find themselves on a scavenger hunt for food, shelter and purpose.

But fear not, for we must remember that lies are as resplendent as a Nicole Kidman facelift. Speaking of which…

Botulinum Toxin Type A. 2,5-Diaminotoluene. Carbamide peroxide. You may know them as Botox, hair dye and teeth bleaching. Or, more appropriately, lies, lies and more lies. Here in LA, we may well be the capital of cover-up. Angelinos get out of bed, slip on our lies like body armor and run out into the ring remarkably equipped to beat back the bullets to our age. We pump up our egos like we pump up our peckers and breasts. These are the weapons with which we smite the truth like The Biggest Loser super-zaps fat. Speaking of which…

There is no more resolute make-believe today than a Kardashian or a Honey Boo-Boo. We went from Candid Camera in the ’40s to An American Family in the ’70s to Cops in the ’80s to Real World in the ’90s to Survivor and Jersey Shore at the turn of the century to Shahs of Sunset and Amish Mafia spinning their deeply moving tales right now. (How folks still deny Darwin’s theory of evolution boggles the mind.) With 300 such programs chewing up our channels, real-life liars rule ratings. Reality TV might well be the oxymoron of our time, but you’d have to be a moron to deny its moxie.

And let us not forget that Reality TV now includes “news.” No longer does news programming serve as distributor of essential domestic or international phenomena. News is not about facts. Establishing facts is hard. It costs money. Reportage requires reporters, and who the hell needs those things anymore. In fact, unless you send The Real Housewives of Orange County into Kabul, fuck if we care.

MSNBC has a loudmouth Reverend (Sharpton), a loudmouth former sportscaster (Schultz), and a loudmouth loudmouth (Matthews). This is so we can hear MSNBC even if we turn our TVs off. They also have bespectacled self-described uber-nerds, Maddow, Hayes and Kornacki, whose fact-tracking is wracked with deeply dorky soliloquy after soliloquy. Their biggest lie is to themselves. They actually believe their employer cares more about their progressive rallying cries than the inverse revenue opportunities they bear. Just ask Rachel Maddow how much she loves being sponsored by Exxon Mobil.

I’m a fan of the lie, but Fox News is where I draw the line. Their lies are more torturous than eating live bunnies, lighting your grandmother on fire or being spooned by an oiled up Donald Trump with a thirst for the nasty. FOX News should just re-brand as FUCK NEWS and keep on doing what they do best.

And finally, let’s talk about CNN. Ya know, on second thought, let’s not. Nobody else does.

Americans especially crave their liar du jour. Tiger Woods living the lie of righteous do-gooder golf god only to be revealed as rapacious sex-at-any-expense asshat. The six-year-old boy thought to be trapped inside a large helium balloon traveling at altitudes nearing 7,000 feet only to be found hiding at home as a pawn in his parents’ batshit game to claim fame. And where do we even begin with our political folk?

Perhaps it’s best to do so with Mr. Christopher James Christie.

Born and bred in the cesspool that is laughably dubbed The Garden State, this author can go on and on about how New Jersey makes the Beltway look like a daycare center. And when the vast majority of the general population sees itself as some iteration of Italian tough guy/girl (disclosure: author is part Italian) for absolutely no fucking reason whatsoever, somehow this is endearing? It’s a lie. It’s embarrassing. And it’s delicious. Therefore, it is precisely why there could be no better head of state, no better Capo than Christie.

The Governor has all but blamed his boundless trail of corruption on the dog that ate his conscience. It won’t be long before the bully-crook cracks. And we’ll be watching. Oh, man will we be watching.

We’ll also continue to watch the new Pope minister his neo-progressive Catholicism upon the faithful. What a remarkable manifesto of world-class, motherfucking crock-loads of bullshit. But should we expect anything less than that from the Catholic Church? Let’s just sum it up this way. Would we simply go about our business if Capitol Hill pols or Exxon execs or JP Morgan finance chiefs ravaged tens of thousands of innocents without recourse? On second thought, bad examples.

We grow up, perhaps get married, and promise to be true to our spouses. “Oh, honey, you look great…Oh, honey, you’re not overweight…Oh, honey, don’t worry about the finances, we’ll be fine…Oh, honey, I promise we’ll have sex this weekend.” Lies. Perhaps we have children and we tell them how great they did at the soccer match or piano recital or school play. More lies. We tell them that everything will work out in the end, the future is as bright as can be. Lies, lies, lies. Then they grow up. They begin to see the world for what it is. They begin to see us for what we are. Then they lie to us one day. And we tell them that lying is wrong, period, end of story. Then they graduate school, move out and struggle to find jobs. They promise prospective employers the moon. Prospective employers tell them how much they appreciate that. Then they don’t call back. Perhaps they eventually find less-than-desirable work for which they put up a good front in the presence of parents and friends. They tell their dickweed bosses and clients how much they appreciate the opportunity to work together. Perhaps they too eventually get married, and they promise to be true to their spouses. They too have kids whom they tell how great they did at the soccer match or piano recital or school play. And as we approach our twilight years, our children tell us how important we are. They are proud to have been gifted with all of our invaluable life lessons. And as we are showered with such truths, the sky sprinkles fairy dust and the cow jumps over the moon.

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