Less than a week into the post-MJ era I’ve realised there’s no real incentive for us to be remotely nice to people whilst we’re on Planet Earth. Regardless of what we do when we’re alive, when we die everyone’s going to be really nice about us, even/especially people that didn’t like us when we were alive. So when we all die, people will tell more (nice) lies about us to make themselves feel better about the (mean) lies they told about us when we were alive. Fun stuff.
I’m not annoyed about the nice lies people will say about me when I die, the fact is everyone lies. The early stages of most human relationships are built on lies! That’s why approximately 13 months and 26 days into any relationship, the woman (or man bitch) will scream/text
‘I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore!!!’
That’s because the very foundation of their relationship was built on both parties being the person they wish they were. Telling lies/half-truths/claiming that the hair on your head is yours when it was bought on the hair weave black market is what people do. It’s not right, but neither is the fact that electronic pink velour is still in mass production * shrugs * life sucks.
I’ve concluded that in this post MJ era people lie for one of three reasons: *
a) To protect themselves.
b) To protect someone else
c) Just because
* I hope this sentence demonstrates how meaningless the concept of a post MJ era is. I heard a music critic use it over the weekend and in honour of taking up ‘stupid activity because it’s summer’ I thought throwing around this phrase at any given opportunity would be a good start.
‘Just because’ lies are the lies that stupid screwed up people tell. The lies are so nonsensical we actually begin to contemplate whether they’re truths because nobody tells lies that outrageous. People that tell type c lies I don’t care for. And it’s pretty obvious why a person would tell a type a lie. However type b lies are a lot more complex.
A good friend of mine (who I can only describe as a self-denying player) recently called me semi-bothered about a dilemma.
Sidebar: Self-denying players are men that play women, but because all the women they have sex with/ refuse to elevate to official status/trick into falling in love with them, are aware that they’re not the only women that they call at 1 am in the morning, they use this as a justification for their behaviour. Apparently the fact women willingly enter these arrangements with prior knowledge of the man’s reluctance to commit, negates any wrongdoing on the players part. I think despite their denial such men are players, just players that should have been lawyers.
Now I love my friend deeply, but as a woman I don’t like him much. He is the kind of man that inspires and ensures the survival of the music genre known as ‘mediocre bitter R&B Pop ladies anthems’. He’s a good guy that does bad things. Things so bad women that don’t have a musical bone in their body, pick up the guitar and write songs about heartbreak, handbags and lost innocence.
So my friend called me to tell me that he had (kinda) cheated * on a woman then lied about it.
* Due to the sheer complexity of his love life and the fact all of his arrangements are simply friends with benefits/glorified friends with benefits we’re still trying to figure out if what he did was cheating or an act of betrayal. I’d love to rant about this and illustrate how the pitiful state of his love life proves there is a distinction between cheating and a betrayal. Unfortunately he has a thing for ‘crazy bitches that stalk me and add my female friends on Facebook’. So we do suspect at least 3 of these women read my blog.
What bothered my friend wasn’t the fact that he had ‘cheated’ but the fact he felt compelled to lie to a woman because he actually cared how the truth would make her feel, rather than the implications it would have on himself. And he didn’t think he cared that much about. It seems that among the women he’s associated with (who in his words range from ‘hoes to potential housewives’) she had managed to catapult herself into a realm where he was contemplating treating her with the dignity women deserve.
Following this personal breakthrough my friend decided I needed to rant about his new theory:
‘The moment a man is willing to lie to protect how a woman feels (rather than himself) that is when a man is on the road towards falling in love’
Because it’s the post-MJ era, my tolerance for idiocy and excuses has depleted further. Therefore to his ludicrous theory I replied, ‘Dog if I was you I would kill my self’ (words of the very alive Kanye West). You see as much as I know life issues aren’t black and white, with subjects like this I chose not to acknowledge shades of grey. If you care about someone as much as you claim to, you will do your utmost to live in such a way that you won’t find yourself in situations where you have to tell lies in aid of their ‘protection’.
However in a random poll of our BlackBerry messenger contacts, 14 out of 22 men either strongly agreed or agreed with the theory. Apparently any man that goes to great lengths to conceal his cheating ways, on some perverse level really cares about the woman he cheated on. It’s the men that cheat recklessly and admit straight away that are the real devils.
We tried to send more messages so our survey could have some sort of weight but then we started getting clocks (only members of the self-righteous BlackBerry brigade will understand the frustration that getting clocks can produce).
Perhaps our survey results are just a reflection of the fact that:
a) People that have BlackBerry’s have issues.
b) People sad enough to formulate surveys in their leisure time to prove/disprove a theory are a bit weird and are likely to have friends that are bit weird as well.
c) 14 out of 22 men are idiots.
Sadly I am now beginning to believe there is a genuine possibility that 14 out of 22 men lie more to women that they (nearly) love than those they (definitely) dislike.
And if our independent survey (which shows the sad effects of the intersection of hot weather and boredom) is accurate this means 14 out of 22 of relationships are about as stable as a morbidly obese stripper doing a tribal skank striptease on a three-legged stool.
It’s too hot for me to figure this out by myself.
What say you?
Peace, Love and Smile : )