I’m a liar. Same with you. We are all fibbers. You learn this truth as a child. Not everything your parents say makes sense. You recognize your own misrepresentations as you scheme outcomes favorable to your adolescent urges. People argue all around you. All of it combines to convey that fluidity and positioning serve as our tools, if not our overlords as well, for oftentimes we may not realize that how we perceive situations and opportunities involve blinders, self-deceptions. Add in that the world, or at least its inhabitants, might be feeding us faulty info and it’s remarkable that we have any sense of direction. Thus, we scramble to apply logic secure some sense of footing, ever blind to fallacies that might underpin its tenets.
With many people, I wonder whether they are idiots, liars, or some combination of the two. Oftentimes words shared by another person make little sense, and it’s unclear to me to what extent I’m too simple to grasp what the other person is presenting. This other person is saying these thoughts, and thus seems to understand such words as reality. However, from my perspective it appears that the person is either lying, and bad at it, or simply blind to the incoherencies being said. Self-delusional. Here’s a concrete, yet non-specific, example: “Well, 2 + 4 equals apple, right?” An apple and two and four have nothing to with each other. Yes, we all can derive ways that this sentence makes sense, but humans are creative: see sentences one and two above, above: “I’m a liar. Same with you.”
The issue is that people generally avoid being open with each other. We don’t share. We’re insecure. Embarrassed. We develop elaborate rationales for our avoidant stances. Sometimes we decry intrusive question. Other times, we wish not to hurt another person’s feelings. There’s a slew of reasons people behave as they do, and oftentimes it seems that simply owning up to the facts would save everyone from consternation and ultimately cause less distress overall. Whether this means saying, “I’m depressed and don’t want to do anything,” “I don’t really like doing X with you because of Y,” “Yes, I push my politics the same way those with whom I disagree push theirs, and I don’t really care about the hypocrisy,” or anything of the like. It’d be refreshing for people to own the truth and not convolute the truth with misdirection that only takes us all farther along a dead-end path that expends unnecessary energy in the form of vocal gyrations.
Years ago, while watching Lost, it frustrated me that the characters never shared information with each other. If they’d only open up about their pasts or what they’ve recently witnessed they’d be able to navigate the current crisis. Yet, they refused to divulge. Fear dictated their inaction. It was painful. Just act like humans I thought, for my earnest mind believed I would convey the hidden knowledge, thereby ruining the plot lines. As years have accreted data about how people behave, it strikes me that Lost did a better job conveying us as we are. Our own refusal to be open, to believe that others would share empathy, drives much of our behavior, and thus we’re suffering from ailments and disconnects and anxieties and missed opportunities all the while because we’re not equipping each other with the information we need to make informed decisions, receive aid, or effect whatever ends might improve our lots. At least we’re not running into polar bears on tropical islands or being assailed by “smoke” monsters. We have that going for us, even if we end up being our own best enemies all the while.