Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Do you want the truth or something beautiful?

Like I said, my instinct is usually right when it comes to detecting the furtive smell of corporate lying. You can be a natural born liar, and lie as easily as breathing, and you may even take a creative satisfaction in it, but if you have to lie as part of your job, inevitably you will give yourself away by your language, or your lack of control over the dishonest things you are undertaking. For example, you might find yourself needing to tell three different lies to three different parties to try to keep them sweet, perhaps to stall further trouble before, oh I don't know, maybe an election or an enquiry of some sort. What you have to hope is that the three different parties to whom you have told three different lies do not discover the extent of the variation of the truth that you have been hiding behind.

And then you have the cock up factor. In a badly run organisation, mistakes are inevitable, but cannot be acknowledged, so these slip ups have to be lied about as well, compounding the layers of dishonesty that are rapidly accumulating ... here in Broken Barnet, the ground is covered in the stuff, and when you've trodden in it, let me tell you, like dogshit on the sole of your shoe, the smell is overpowering.

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