Karl Zerbe: The Face of the Big Lie (1951)

"I will feel vindicated when he loses …"

If there is such a thing with words, the usual evolution of a lie moves from the tiny to the more encompassing. Dabbling in lying tends to eventually lead to larger trouble, if only of the parody kind. A "little white lie" can successfully cordon off vast regions of authenticity from further exploration, lest what started as a small secret get inadvertently shared. Honesty became recognized as the best policy because of the exorbitant premiums charged for using its opposite.

We live downwind of a single BIG lie, one which had no clear precedent from which it grew. Its author started off eugh, his curious pronunciation of the more common 'huge.' He almost always misuses language, mispronouncing as flagrantly as he misapplies. He's a near master at referring to apples as oranges. His followers have, over time, adapted to his curiosities in language and behavior. A small corner of the media landscape dedicated itself to reinforcing his perspectives so that now, his followers honestly cannot determine apples from oranges and they've developed a dependence upon the indoctrination mechanisms. It seems unthinkable to them that they might think through some question or apply everyday reason to resolve a problem. They expect—demand—to be spoon-fed their personal opinions.

The BIG lie proved popular among that portion of society who felt the overwhelming need to be lied to. They appreciated the magnitude every bit as much as they liked the content. The election its author claimed to have won was stolen, though no objective evidence to support that stance ever surfaced. The lack of proof further fueled the suspicions and further satisfied the denizens. Over time, whatever truth might have once passed those lips no longer saw the light of day, replaced by ever broader lies, genuine whoppers. Eventually, an entire subsection of the citizenry came to live and die by those lies. They became dependent upon them, easily as dependent on them as their prime progenitor. Even tiny issues, ones you'd think could make no difference, increasingly fell beneath the aegis of the lie. The BIG lie grew ever more prominent until it became genuinely overwhelming, nothing but.

How might truth defend itself against such unprecedented assault? The BIG lie's author could feel no shame. He seemed incapable of embarrassment, though everyone not entranced by his dance thought him utterly incapable. They'd go seeking through when reviewing the latest transcript and thought they'd scored some points when failing to find any evidence of truth in it. He became incapable of committing a truth, even inadvertently, and came to seem to screw up gravity as a direct result. There never was any level best in him. He became crooked to the core.

There must be something inside some people that revels in being lied to. If the author had any natural gift, it was this grift. He could feed almost anyone the reassurances that only utter falsehoods can bring. He could be flattering or insulting, burning his bridges from both sides toward the middle and still strolling away. He grew into a big baby with millions of caretakers, people from whom he'd tried to steal a fair election and failed. He transformed that failure into his most significant success, for he could only ever succeed by twisting a premise. What might have been honest became its opposite, and every potentially laudable attribute became poisonous.

The question stands as to whether he's successfully hoodwinked his homeland again. His first time through, he utterly failed as an administrator, leading his country into some of its darkest days. He promises even more of worse should he succeed in stealing the general election this time. He hovers on a cushion of absolutes without an ounce of truth within it. He paints nightmare scenarios, and those entrained to find him entertaining seem poised to vote against their self-interest again. It's a test occurring in every imaginable dimension. An assassin failed to take him out of the running, managing only to render him an almost martyr, further raw material with which to spin even more fantastic lies. I will feel thoroughly surprised if he wins. I will feel vindicated when he loses, reassured that Grace still holds her accustomed place at the table.

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Grace, #PureSchmaltz