Saturday, September 24, 2011

lie detectors

One of the downsides to maintaining a ridiculously1 popular blog2 is that people, and by people I mean women, typically demand you promise to desist from writing things about them in the public domain.

This happened to me again last night, wherein a woman insisted that nothing that occurred during the course of the evening could be tweeted; this because she's still a little sensitive about how I may have publicly insinuated something she wrote was creepy without nary a warning on my part. People these days. So sensitive.

Anyways, these sorts of requests mean I spend a lot of time breaking promises.

I kiiid, I kiiid. I would never dream of breaking a promise I still remember!

Which is why I never trust lie detectors, and roll my newly-lasered eyes every time I read another article discussing a "better" lie detector. People. Lie detectors are fantasy fiction, like flying saucers, the Loch Ness monster, girls who want to date you, and finding meaning of life outside of chocolate or San Pellegrino Aranciata.

There are two easy ways to beat a lie detector.

#1: Maintain a terrible memory

Plausible forgettability is the ultimate in moral defense.

This is how I can claim to have never gone bowling and split open my pants in front of several dozen individuals who were all amazed by the intense light emanating from my nether area when I sat down, legs spread open, with a black light illuminating white underwear in the most visible way possible.

I have no recollection of said event, nor my immediate departure and walk of shame home in the blessed concealing darkness, so, naturally, it never happened.

This is also how I can tell people I've never broken a bone, though the record clearly states I broke my foot jumping off of a balcony in Preschool to "test out my fire escape plan",3 spent the next week limping before my "doctor" father realized something was wrong, got me put in a cast which I was instructed to never walk on, and then, to punish me for my eventual sullying of his name in this post, declined crutches, and the family spent the next week enjoying communal laughter as I drug myself around on the carpet whenever I needed to do anything. Like eat. Or use the restroom.

These events are all conveniently forgotten, or, as my therapist puts it, "repressed", so I would have no troubles at all passing a lie detector test relating to the more humiliating moments of my life.

#2 Convince yourself it isn't true

If you're easily persuaded, or, as my brother called it, "gullible", you can use that to your advantage to pass a lie detector test.

For example, you may someday be asked by your little brother, moments before he finally extracts his revenge by beating you senseless, what was going through your mind when you were driving him home from waterskiing, and, instead of stopping the car for him to use the facilities like any other normal and loving person would do, insisting he take a knee and make good use of a stray water bottle.

By convincing yourself that you are a kind person, and the sort of person who would never in a million years do that sort of thing, you can easily pass any lie detector test related to your severe cruelty to a small child.4

Lie detectors are imprecise and vulnerable to exploitation. I suggest you work on your neuroses to get a passing grade.

1. That is, read by four charitable family members.
2. I insisted on calling it a publication for years until an aspiring publisher rightly took me to task (on a date, yes) for my malfeasance, specifically because my wandering drivel here contains no ISBN number.
3. While I am proud of my forward thinking, I am less proud of my abject stupidity.
4. Okay, I just have to say: in my defense, we were at the head of a caravan, and stopping would have been a very minor inconvenience. Also: to my family members who did not know of this, I promise, we immediately threw away that water bottle. I promise...


Jess said...

Four family members and a Berry. Come on CP, if you ever want this to become a publication get your facts straight.

Shelle said...

Ha! and a lurking Shelle. Because your blog is, in fact, that humorous.

mariah christine said...

so I was just catching up on Jess Berry's blog and came across her link to the 'complete guide to everything' ... naturally, I was curious! Unfortunately, all i had time for was this first post, but i could help in the ridiculousness of the popularity of this blog in the future.

plus, I would be surprised if you had not already proven the opposite of this post as well: that you can claim a brilliant memory (stories that did Really happen) and convince yourself that it really did happen.

chris said...

brilliant mariah, brilliant. I was much too uncomfortable to delve into the topic that is my overactive imagination, which would have naturally led to a discussion on Fictional Events I Believe to be True.

LRH said...

so your blog is a serial "publication" and would have an ISSN number and not an ISBN :) yes I know you miss me lots