The Virtue of the Lie
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I can't say enough about lying.
No, I'm serious. I regard lying as a necessary and virtuous act --nay, a 'Moral Imperative' for you Kant freaks. If you can't lie, try telling the truth about a potential parallel universe.
Lying it's really fun when creatively done, and done well to precisely the right people.
My people are the Student Loan people. "When are you going to pay up?" Blah, blah, nag, nag.
What about me and my needs, you jerks? Sure I haven't been in school for fifteen years ... quit being so goddamned impatient about it. Look, I've only collected two of the five Devo hats so far. And until I have all five, nobody gets nothin.
I tried letting them down easy, writing "Deceased" on their envelopes and having them mailed back. Might give 'em a kinda nice fuzzy sense of "justice". I even made 'em look blood-soaked for full effect.
Then Big Brother steps in. Turns out according to whatever corrupt government is running things right now, ketchup is easily detectable in a DNA test, and 'Mail Fraud' and so forth are 'Federal Offenses punishable by prison'.
Lousy screws. Jesus I'm glad I'm dead.
***
But the telephone is off-limits. Well, more accurately, I regard it as "Open Season": by violating the sanctity if my hard-earned personal space (consisting of four walls, three Playboys and one telephone), I consider it a rude invasion to get unsolicited calls of any nature.
My friends want me to make a CD on how I handle these calls. Hey, I live in poverty and don't have a whole lot to amuse myself; if you're calling me you've just become a new plug-in surround-sound amusement center Geo-Pet playthingy in a world commonly refered to as the debauched, seething cesspool of my deranged mind.
You've worked hard for this.
You've earned it.
And God I swear ... if they weren't creditors actually wanting me to pay my bills, I would hire these people to call me all the time.
When you get a telemarketer, let them suck you in on the speech. In roughly the first sixty seconds a telemarketer is desperately trying to gauge if a sale is possible here. Just "play ball" and it won't take long at all. Let them make the pitch, and tell them you want everything. Subscriptions for friends. Gifts. Order like tons of these products. When it comes time to pay, tell 'em you've got a VISA. But when it becomes time to tell them the VISA number, start reciting random single numbers uninterruptedly ... for however long it takes them to hang up.
There's one calling list you are no longer on.
Creditors are pretty slick because they already know some things about you. But this really only makes them more vulnerable: you can layer up some really magnificent lies when the foundation is blended nicely with a good dose of the truth.
Remember, these are honest, hard-working people that deserve nothing less than the full spectrum of your creative effort.
I usually answer the phone as "Dale, the former roommate."
Credit Agency: "Mr. Curr?"
Me: "No, this is Dale Chrisopherson, his former roommate."
Credit Agency: "Do you know where I can find Mr. Curr?"
Me: "No. He got my girlfriend and Auntie Eloise pregnant, stole my wallet and car keys a few days ago and has evidently skipped town."
Credit Agency: I ... uh ... see."
Me: "Do you want the number for the police? They're lookin for him too. He was so pissed when he left he punched a clown and broke his 'lectronic nose. Then he kicked a bunch of puppies. Completely ruined my nieces' birthday party."
Credit Agency: "... Um"
Me: "Well I would certainly like to find him before the cops do. I'd like to kick him in the nuts until his guts rupture. Maybe stuff his fucking arm into a garbage disposal 'an listen to him howl. [pause] ... Wanna work together and find this son-of-a-bitch?"
[This is most often followed by a dial tone.]
[LOBO]
I can't say enough about lying.
No, I'm serious. I regard lying as a necessary and virtuous act --nay, a 'Moral Imperative' for you Kant freaks. If you can't lie, try telling the truth about a potential parallel universe.
Lying it's really fun when creatively done, and done well to precisely the right people.
My people are the Student Loan people. "When are you going to pay up?" Blah, blah, nag, nag.
What about me and my needs, you jerks? Sure I haven't been in school for fifteen years ... quit being so goddamned impatient about it. Look, I've only collected two of the five Devo hats so far. And until I have all five, nobody gets nothin.
I tried letting them down easy, writing "Deceased" on their envelopes and having them mailed back. Might give 'em a kinda nice fuzzy sense of "justice". I even made 'em look blood-soaked for full effect.
Then Big Brother steps in. Turns out according to whatever corrupt government is running things right now, ketchup is easily detectable in a DNA test, and 'Mail Fraud' and so forth are 'Federal Offenses punishable by prison'.
Lousy screws. Jesus I'm glad I'm dead.
But the telephone is off-limits. Well, more accurately, I regard it as "Open Season": by violating the sanctity if my hard-earned personal space (consisting of four walls, three Playboys and one telephone), I consider it a rude invasion to get unsolicited calls of any nature.
My friends want me to make a CD on how I handle these calls. Hey, I live in poverty and don't have a whole lot to amuse myself; if you're calling me you've just become a new plug-in surround-sound amusement center Geo-Pet playthingy in a world commonly refered to as the debauched, seething cesspool of my deranged mind.
You've worked hard for this.
You've earned it.
And God I swear ... if they weren't creditors actually wanting me to pay my bills, I would hire these people to call me all the time.
When you get a telemarketer, let them suck you in on the speech. In roughly the first sixty seconds a telemarketer is desperately trying to gauge if a sale is possible here. Just "play ball" and it won't take long at all. Let them make the pitch, and tell them you want everything. Subscriptions for friends. Gifts. Order like tons of these products. When it comes time to pay, tell 'em you've got a VISA. But when it becomes time to tell them the VISA number, start reciting random single numbers uninterruptedly ... for however long it takes them to hang up.
There's one calling list you are no longer on.
Creditors are pretty slick because they already know some things about you. But this really only makes them more vulnerable: you can layer up some really magnificent lies when the foundation is blended nicely with a good dose of the truth.
Remember, these are honest, hard-working people that deserve nothing less than the full spectrum of your creative effort.
I usually answer the phone as "Dale, the former roommate."
Credit Agency: "Mr. Curr?"
Me: "No, this is Dale Chrisopherson, his former roommate."
Credit Agency: "Do you know where I can find Mr. Curr?"
Me: "No. He got my girlfriend and Auntie Eloise pregnant, stole my wallet and car keys a few days ago and has evidently skipped town."
Credit Agency: I ... uh ... see."
Me: "Do you want the number for the police? They're lookin for him too. He was so pissed when he left he punched a clown and broke his 'lectronic nose. Then he kicked a bunch of puppies. Completely ruined my nieces' birthday party."
Credit Agency: "... Um"
Me: "Well I would certainly like to find him before the cops do. I'd like to kick him in the nuts until his guts rupture. Maybe stuff his fucking arm into a garbage disposal 'an listen to him howl. [pause] ... Wanna work together and find this son-of-a-bitch?"
[This is most often followed by a dial tone.]
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