Truth or Dare

It's simple, if we assume people usually choose between extremes, they can choose between not believing almost anything they're told, and believing almost everything they're told. While both extremes are horrible there is a rationale behind each of them, an empirical formula that can help you decide which to choose. When you don't believe everything, judging by the ratio of lies to truth, you can be right about a the thousand lies you reject and wrong about the single truth you reject along the way. When you believe everything, you're wrong about lies and correct about the truth.

The alternative is simple, either be right about all lies you reject and risk rejecting the few truths that come across your way, or risk being wrong about all the lies you accept and be certain of truths you accept.

In a way those who don't dare believe anything cannot take the risk and for this, they are rewarded of not being wrong most of the time, but the real question is, does truth deserve the risk? If we don't dare to reach the truth, what should we dare for?

Worth an Answer?

Is it worth it to answer a question honestly if the answer won't be enough? I'm really wondering about this now. If you know that someone's looking for an answer that isn't true, do you tell them the truth anyway or save yourself the hassle and not give an answer.

The problem with answering truthfully is that you're effectively a liar if you don't provide the answer that someone is looking for. The problem with not answering is that you're held at fault without a chance to explain something that might make a difference.

At first I thought it was best to answer, but now I don't think it's worth my breath.

Almost Two of Everything

 

The truth is something to look for in this world. But why? I'm not certain as to why truth is so important. What do we gain when we find out a truth? What makes a truth more valuable than a lie? 

Even without knowing why, we all believe that it is. The world has presented us with the notion that truth is of the utmost importance, but still, why? This remains, in a way, not so explicitly answered.

The only thing I can think of is that the truth gives us something back. In most cases it's not just the gratification and satisfaction that we've found out something that's true, but something beyond that. It has to be something that only a truth can give. I wonder if a truth that gives you back nothing is even worth pursuing.

If we assume that the only truths worth pursuing are the ones that give us something, then perhaps that's where we can start.

How about lies? Some lies give us nothing, but are they to be viewed as sinister? Lies take away something from us. But there are some lies can give us something perhaps greater than the truth. Why do we not seek lies then, just this kind that gives us a lot?

Some truths take something from you and some lies give you something important to you. But why then do we still consider truths greater than lies? What does the fact that something happened or something truly exists, or something will happen, have to do with value?

The truth is that it all comes down to what we believe rather than some empirical formula. Deep inside, we must believe that truth, the actual existence of something is inherently worth so much more than something that does not exist and has never existed. To value truth is to have faith, a kind of faith in a value that cannot be seen but perhaps only felt. 

That's not to say that there aren't some fairly obvious benefits to most of what's true. Most of what was or is true gives you something you can retain to for the future. The truths of yesterday and today help solidify our steps into tomorrow. 

Most truths are that way, the truth about someone's feelings can help set expectations for the future and help prevent some kind of harm, and it may even create some kind of happiness.

The truth about some things in the past helps us learn from what has happened or gives us reasons and motivates us. The truth about the existence and nature of God gives us guidelines on how to best live our lives. This is why people are obsessed with the truth; it gives us information to process so as to determine which decision we should take to lead ourselves to a better life.

(I wonder if a lie that would give these results would be just as much worth the truth.)

Yet just as often as we forget why the truth is invaluable, we also forget to seek it. It makes sense for those who have no hope for better to abandon the quest for truth altogether. The truth gives you nothing that you don't want to take. Perhaps that's why we're puzzled sometimes by various people, many of which know the exact same thing and yet their reactions are different in light of the same knowledge. At the end of the day, it's what you do with the truth that matters and those who will not do anything with it will stop to seek it.

I've only just noticed that we have almost two of everything. We have two eyes, two ears, nostrils, hands and legs. We have two of most things and plenty of fingers. I've noticed that we only have one mouth. One mouth with one tongue with which we should eat, drink, talk, taste, kiss and sometimes breathe. 

I know I've noticed nothing new, it's no revelation, but noticing that so many of the things we have in twos don't have multiple functions got me thinking. I deduced that perhaps we were meant to use our functions in proportion to their availability. 

To have two eyes means to look at the world and see as much as we can. We're meant to look ahead and forward to what's to come. To have two ears means to listen for everything around us. We're meant to listen, not just to one side, but to both as has been pointed out to us by the presence of ears on either side of our head. We're meant to listen all the time. Ears don't have lids or plugs, they're always open. When we're working with both our hands we should listen, when we're moving using our legs we should listen. We have two lungs to breathe and we should use them to live. We should do more of that for which we have more.

But when we speak, we should not utter even half of what we see and hear, but less. We eat and we drink and we breathe and we speak with one mouth. We should be wise in using our mouths to follow the wisdom that nature has tried to implant in us.

And yet all everyone does is speak these days. They talk and talk without ever listening, without ever seeing. They block their ears with seals of their own making and shut both their eyes to all they see happening. They probably decided they don't want to take in anymore from the world, and only want to give their words to the world. But who will be there to listen if everyone is speaks? What good will words be to others who have blocked their ears too? 

What could people give from within if they have not absorbed anything from without? The funny thing is that those people who talk without listening are not worth listening to.  The more people speak nonsense the more others block their ears, and the more people block their ears the more they speak nonsense. It's a vicious cycle that knows no end.

The eyes, the ears and the senses are meant to take in all that is from the world; good, bad, truth and lies, and then process it all. We are to funnel all that is around us to our brain making doubly sure that we've absorbed it.

We have a brain to filter what is wrong from what is right, truth from lies, beauty from ugliness, good from evil. Our senses bring in everything for the brain so that it can arbitrate. It seems to me that only after all of this has been done should we speak. We should speak sparsely, only after understanding, or often, as to ask for more sounds, visuals and input and when we speak we should try to speak only the truth. We should speak of a truth around us, a truth that we've experienced and a truth that we've reasoned and possibly observed. The truth is hidden amidst a chameleon of lies. We should first try to notice the ever fixed truths that have not been desecrated by imposters and only then should we speak. Only then does that which we speak of have any value. 

A thought that is born of our sight, vision, hearing and processing is that which is worth speaking. How can one then speak the truth when one has blocked the senses that are to let it in? How can someone be content with a few chameleons that swept in and then claim to utter a word of truth?

Our senses are the feedback sensors like those found in a navigation system. It is through them that we detect our diversion off a desired course. How can one follow the right way when one's senses are shut down? How can one know what's right if one's ears are plugged? How can one compare truth to lies if one has let nothing in?

Yet we all speak and rarely listen. We use our rarest resource extensively and choose to forfeit the use of our ample resources. Our bodies were not just designed physically but metaphysically to adapt to the philosophy of life, to take in more and give sparingly. 

I wonder if nature was aware of our metaphysical needs with regards to truth, lies, understanding and speaking when she caused us to evolve. I wonder if nature knew that lies would distort the truth and that man would need to listen and be wary of those who defile the truth around him. I wonder if nature realized that man would need to distinguish between what is false and what is true and then utter his findings with care. I wonder if nature knew the difference between knowledge and truth and if she knew that we would value truth over knowledge and that we would always seek that which already is. I wonder if nature knew that the quest can't be settled with facts and that the more we know the more we will seek.

I wonder if we'll ever learn the lessons that were innately and intelligently integrated within our bodies. I wonder if we'll ever learn to study all that is around us and teach back only that which we find to be true.

What makes a lie?

What makes a lie? Is a lie the opposite of the truth or are both terms a gray shade in the black and white spectrum. Assuming that a lie is a piece of information contrary to fact or truth, in that case truth or fact must be identified. I don’t want to get into the whole definition of truth and what have you, I will assume that we know exactly what a lie is about. My real concern here is when does a lie become a lie.

The trouble is that the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that it can be very subjective. If someone were to speak a fact that wasn’t true, then we would assume it to be a lie, but what if that person believed it to be true, is it still a lie? It’s not a lie to him, so can the piece of information take two forms according to the viewpoint from which you are looking at it? On the other extreme suppose someone spoke a fact that he believed to be false and yet he was mistaken about it and it turned out to be true, is it a lie then?

How much of our intention has to do with words being lies or truths?

Let’s say someone wrote a note describing something he will do as a past. A suicide note saying, “I’ve killed myself, for I could not bear the pains of this world any longer.” It seems to me like it would be a lie at the time of writing, yet transformed into the truth if it is done. It remains a lie if it is preempted. So what makes a lie a lie?? There’s an intricate link between lies and time and intention.

If one were to say I was in the street just a while back, would it be a lie if he was there a minute ago, an hour ago, a week ago? When does it start becoming a lie. If never then lies themselves are not what I thought them to be.

If lies take such a form, does its archenemy, the truth, take a similar form too? If lies contain some truth to them, then mustn’t truth contain some lies in them as well? Let’s forget sincerity for a while because sincerity never changes fact. If truth and lies can contain so much of each other then they can be confused.

But I think that there’s a difference. A piece of truth inside a lie cannot prove that all of it is true, but a small lie inside the truth has a much more illuminating effect.

The trouble is that one man’s lie is another man’s truth. If lies are so subjective, then we can only evaluate them in relation to people.

The man who said a truth thinking it was a lie seems to remain, still, a liar and to the person who heard it, that same lie is a truth.

Lies are in the ears of the beholder, but can we say the same about truth?