With my back recently injured, I've been doing a lot of reading. Thrillers, mysteries, science fiction, political stuff. Here's something compelling that I read today in a novel called Brightside, by Mark Tullius.
When I was nine, I used to point my finger as a gun and take out the airplanes flying over Columbus. I didn't realize I was playing terrorist, never imagined one day that's what I'd be called. Thought thieves were deemed the most dangerous people on the planet by the President, the government, every school board across the country. All because we knew everyone was lying.
The politicians weren't a surprise, but the pastors and priests; the little league coaches and lunch ladies threw everyone for a loop. It was just easier to get rid of us, ship us here to this mountain, than to face the truth that our society was based on the ability to lie. Parents tell their kids they're special, that they love them. Teachers tell students they can achieve anything. Bosses want their employees to know they're valued, that they aren't just warm bodies underpaid and abused. It's how everything keeps moving. Without the lie, people have to fix shit, face conflict, come to terms. Lying is the butter that keeps us all from ending up like Rachel ... blowing our fucking brains out.
Note: That last phrase, after the ellipsis, was added by me in order to make the whole thing make sense. Not that it makes sense, but still.