I learned to lie from my mother. She still lies. I gave it up because it made me too uncomfortable and I don't want to have to remember stories that I have made up. It is easier not to tell lies. I don't tell people they look great when they don't; I don't say food is wonderful if it isn't; I don't pretend to be happy if I am not. It makes me sweaty to have to talk to people who are phony.
My mother's idea of how to manage a simple social situation: for instance, if she encounters the person she asked for a recipe, she says that she has made it and how wonderful it was. This happens and in fact, she had not made the stuff, didn't intend to because she thought it was gross, and had asked for the recipe to give it to a homeless shelter's kitchen. I couldn't see the point of any of this.
I realized that language was for the purpose of communication and that is what I try to do with it. I know that non-truth can be communicated, but that is not what I want to do.
My mother's idea of how to manage a simple social situation: for instance, if she encounters the person she asked for a recipe, she says that she has made it and how wonderful it was. This happens and in fact, she had not made the stuff, didn't intend to because she thought it was gross, and had asked for the recipe to give it to a homeless shelter's kitchen. I couldn't see the point of any of this.
I realized that language was for the purpose of communication and that is what I try to do with it. I know that non-truth can be communicated, but that is not what I want to do.
