It’s enough to be lied to by the president.  It’s enough to be lied to by your administration. It’s enough to be lied to by the director of your university’s labor relations.  What I cannot stand is to be lied to by a friend or coworker, especially one you have to see almost every day.

The other day we held an event at work for an organization specializing in NeuroGaming, showcasing the work of their interns who were all on the autistic spectrum.  I was excited because I, too, am on the spectrum, and it’s wonderful when I get to see people like me represented in good light and overcoming the horrible stigmas out there. In my excitement I told the new guy I was on the autistic spectrum too, to which he replied, “so am I.”  Later, he confessed he was lying.  Why on earth would you lie about something like that?  Would you lie and tell people you had cancer? There are some things that are just off limits.

Today, I also found out he lied to me about joining our union.   I don’t really understand the motives behind it. Is it a bad habit? Maybe I don’t understand because I am not good with lying.  Lying is something I cannot swallow easily.  When I lie, I am horrible at it.  Honesty is not only a virtue, but my weakness.  I am sometimes too honest for my own good, unless, of course, I am lying to myself.  Maybe I am not honest.  Maybe truth is relative.  Maybe there are no absolutes.  I can understand lies if it is done for good reason.  In World War II there were Germans who hid people and lied to the Nazis in order to protect lives.

Is lying still lying if it’s a joke?  Is our capacity for dishonesty as fundamental as our need to trust?  Is it part of human nature?  Do people on the autistic spectrum have difficulty with lying because of issues with executive functioning? Why do some people have a predisposition to lying?  Psychologists, Nobuhito Abe at Kyoto University and Joshua Greene at Harvard University used functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) to scan the brains of their subjects, and they found that those who were dishonest had greater activation in the nucleus accumbens, a region in the basal forebrain rostral to the preoptic area of the hypothalamus, playing a vital role in reward processing.  They found that greed increases the predisposition to lying. I find the science behind all this fascinating.  (If you want to read more on the science of lying check out this article here.)

I am slightly concerned with what seems to be developing into a pattern of perjury, and I was not hesitant to bring it up to the new guy to let him know I am not cool with it, especially in the workplace.  He laughed it off and said he was just joking.  He is a very likable person with a great personality, but  I need to be able to trust the people I work with.  In a production team, trust is an essential component to our work flow.  Am I over-reacting or am I being cautious?  Will my concerns be addressed or ignored? I can only move forward by giving him the benefit of the doubt.  With all due respect, the new guy does have a high-spirited personality, and I hope my criticism can be seen as constructive rather than harsh.  I have shared my views with him as well as this blog.  My intentions fall within my desire for openness and transparency, not to create more drama on a plate that is already full.

I have so much on my plate I almost forgot my anniversary was today.  I am grateful my godmother reminded me about it this morning.  It’s Friday.  I must focus on being happy and doing away with negativity.  Now, I just have to think about what gift to get my husband.

Since the topic of this entry deals with lies, I will end it with a fun poem on love’s liar.

Maggot

With the burning of the maggot heart he flew

Higher

On fire

In amorphous desire

And towards the ill-bred love

He thought he knew

He found

He chose the liar

Love’s liar lied with luscious lips

Untrue

Amidst a kiss of endless bliss

To him so new

Promising forever

But bliss turned blister in the end

As time did toil and love did bend

Wishing he chose never

Tattered to torn

Weary was worn

Torn by the thorn

Love looked at scorn

The tender did tire

Desire turned dyer

Where is the fire

Where is she?