People - a lesson from history

I was on the tube again this morning, due to my unusual hamstring.  It's not actually sore today; don't tell anyone.  I've an appointment with my physio tomorrow.  If it carries on like this, I'll have to start making symptoms up.  

I've got a bit of previous when it comes to bullshitting professionals in a one-to-one situation.  I'm a Catholic, and as a child I had to start making up sins when I went to confession.  It's not that I was free from sin at that age (I am now), but I used to dry up under the pressure of the confessional, so I'd start inventing generic venial misdemeanours.  I don't suppose Father [insert Irish surname here] bought it for a minute.  I wish now I'd taken the trouble to make up so more interesting ones, from a theological perspective I mean.  "You been feeding your budgie Holy water?  Hmm...not sure how to deal with this one...it does sound quite bad...I'll have to phone the Bishop.  Give up cheese and hop around on one leg until I get back to you."

Where was I?  Oh, yes, the tube.  So it's about 50 degrees Celsius as per on the Jubilee Line, and we're rammed in there like bluebottles inside a hollowed-out turd when some rotter decides to fart.  I'm not a violent man, but by Christ I would battered the culprit flaccid had I got my gloves on him.  Have we not all got enough to deal with, what with the heat and the general pervasive air of gloom?

Long Weekend in Nod

Following on from my dream recollections yesterday, I bypassed the whole scenario last night and fell into a dreamless fatigue and red wine induced coma. Unfortunately my usually reliable catholic guilt let me down for once and I slept through the alarm, which meant having to start the day with a well crafted lie.

I am a good liar. There's no point in my being coy about it. I have an incorrigibly plausible manner. I discovered this quite early in life. I would make up something outlandish to amuse my school friends, and they'd (to my amazement) lap it up like mother's milk.

The temptation to use this skill for evil is huge, and one is always straddling the border between good and bad. It can make me appear withdrawn and brooding at times, like a bullshit Batman. It can also cause people to question my (genuinely) good intentions. Take my boss for example. Let's call him Commissioner Gordon for the sake of argument. I told Commissioner Gordon a bare-faced untruth this morning to explain my lateness, and he believed it. What's more, he wanted to believe it. We all crave narrative completion - disclosure followed by closure. And I did him the honour of creating a back story to the lie. He felt loved and I dodged a bullet - a victimless crime.

If there are any keen amateur liars reading this, the back story is critical. Otherwise your fib is like the faux cowboy town in Blazing Saddles: from the hilltop, it works, but as soon as the baddies ride into the valley, you're screwed.