If you want to be a politician when you grow up, this is an important lesson for you.
Hello everyone!
Today we’re going to talk about lying.
There are lots of words for liar. Fibber, fraudster, charlatan, knave, perjurer, clapper-clawed bum-bailey and Mark Butler.
If you ask your dad about liars he might say something like: “I hate liars, there’s nothing worse than being lied to – like that time everyone said I looked good in my captain’s hat when really I looked like a knob.”
Lying goes back a long way. It was originally invented in ancient Mesopotamia so that poor people could sell crap to rich people. A cuneiform tablet has been found with the inscription: “Abel the second son of Nona is not to be trusted. He sold me a shitty horse for the price of a good one.”
But over the years lying has become increasingly sophisticated.
For example, parents lie to their children to protect their feelings.
“Tiddles the hamster didn’t die, darling, he got married and he’s living with his family in a little cottage in the forest.”
This is called a “white lie”.
Murderers lie in court so they don’t get sent to prison.
“Unfortunately, your Honour, my mother-in-law tripped over and fell onto my axe. No, I don’t know where the head went.”
Or they lie to keep a co-dependent relationship going.
“It totally doesn’t bother me. I told you I was into short men when I met you!”
And there is now a group of people who make a living out of lying. Yes, that is their job, paid for by us!
Can you guess what that group is called?
That’s right, they’re called politicians. Can you say “po-li-ti-shuns”? Or “bastards”, as your dad calls them. Write “bastards” in your copy book.
Politicians believe that perception is more powerful than reality.
For example, you can claim that you’ve improved the health service by demolishing the old hospital and spending billions of dollars on a new one. The problem is that spacious corridors, brightly lit waiting rooms and a marble atrium with a piano in it never cured anyone. It’s the medical staff working inside the hospital that makes people better. If old buildings were the problem, no one would ever go to Oxford or visit Westminster Abbey.
But instead of spending billions on staff and using the money to train good doctors or attract the best talent from around the world, the government spends billions on bricks.
Unfortunately these bricks are not medically qualified, but they do make a good photo opportunity.
Another lie is that people shouldn’t delay seeking medical care because “more bulk billing and more urgent care clinics are making a real difference in people’s lives”.
Just saying something doesn’t make it true. That’s called “magical thinking”. And magical thinking belongs with wizards and unicorns in children’s books, not in Mark Butler’s head.
Goodbye now, children, and try not to be little bastards!
