Not quite unstruck enough.

I kinda wanna post this because I like it. But I wasn’t sure if it was good enough, so I used the end as a seed for the final post on unstruck.

But I wanted my thoughts recorded, even though they’ve been chosen as not good enough for the main site.

Not that this place is now my second favourite (though with the excitement of the new, it blatantly is) and so only worthy of unwanted trash.

I still love you guys.

I’m just excited by the new project a lot. It’s pretty exciting. It’s great to feel creative again, and to not just feel like I’m waffling inanely to myself. Which is what I do here. Mostly.

Anyway, here’s the original draft, for the sake of posterity:

q: Is it sometimes good to lie?

I’m severely in danger of sounding like Polonius here.

Though marginally less poetic, no doubt.

I’m a quite thorough devotee of honesty. Particularly in the big things. Having done the wrong thing many times, I made a promise to myself to be honest.

Honesty can hurt, but it normally means the pain is justified. If the truth hurts, at least it’s the right hurt. The one that should be. When a lie hurts, it’s doubly wrong, and cannot be justified.

But obviously there are times where honesty hurts heedlessly. These are the times I feel conflicted.

When I discuss this with people, I’m always under attack from talk of the little white lies. The flattery that is called for and must be given. Of course your bum doesn’t look big in that.

(I might ask, what is wrong with a bottom looking large? And not just because I like big bottoms, but simply because it seems somewhat unimportant, what someone else might think of your bottom. Someone who judges you inadequate on the basis of incorrect posterior volume is someone not worth knowing. Of course, at the same time, I am hopelessly vain and concerned with what other people think of what I look like, but also have a spectacularly pretty bottom. So perhaps that stance is in itself dishonest.)

So is it okay to boost someone’s ego? Or are you still misleading, taking astray?

I don’t entirely have an answer.

In my case, I am often helped by the fact that I don’t really think before I speak. My brain has a thought and before I know it the thought is in the air, vibrating towards other ears.

I often don’t have time to consider lying.

This gets me in trouble.

Honesty is sometimes noticed. It allows you to be trusted, if not always liked. It helps if you honestly hold positive opinions. The best of both worlds.

In fact, being able to hold two contrary opinions simultaneously makes virtually anything possible.

How about internally?

For me, lying equates to a pain in the gut and a fear in the chest. I know I am doing something I shouldn’t. This is shared with a certain glee when I’m pulling a prank of some sort. Misleading to entertain. But I almost always confess immediately.

But there’s the rub.

There is a time when it is good to lie. Great to lie. Great lies can be wonderful.

Because they are stories.

As the man with a letter for a name said: ‘Artists use lies to tell the truth.’

And that’s what we are doing here.

These answers are fabrications. The illustrations more so. They are beliefs. They are ways of expressing ideas. And I think I am still being honest here. But  not necessarily by speaking bare truth.

But that method of building something. It is built on lies. It is built on artifice.

And there’s certainly nothing wrong with that.

So sometimes it is good. Yes.

Lie for the truth.

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2 thoughts on “Not quite unstruck enough.”

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