Free will. Contextual Truth. Everyone lies and the hypocrites who pretend other sicken me. Of course there are ridiculous extremes; I am not at the point of feeling like I need to tell stories to effect reality, to fictionalize the real events, to make New Journalism my way of interpreting events, in a manner. I had the lying burned out of me when I heard the truth, finally, as the learning curve of truth came my way. Lying before cameras that knew better.... all the embarrassment associated with looking like an ass. The man who described his fantasy violence encounter, just for the hell of it, because a part of him wanted to. I truly wonder now what made me begin to lie?
I fought it. Hated myself for it. Felt lessened. For years I would go over my days looking for every lie, and examining them, in an attempt to stop the habit. I have never felt most lies are a sin, they are one of those things which can go either way. They are required for the fake social contact we have in most societal situations.
During my intelligence work, and life, I guess . . . I came to be the accidental leader of a cult; acolytes they called themselves in the end. This is as much of that story as I can tell.
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