Santa etc.
- Elizabeth Isabelle
- Posts: 3771
- Joined: Tue Sep 05, 2006 11:35 am
Santa etc.
Why do parents tell lies to their children , then expect children to be truthful with their parents?
I can understand about encouraging creativity, but telling children fables and clarifying for them the difference between what is real and what is a fable would, IMO, accomplish the same encouragement. Do they do it because everyone else does? If so, why did the first parents do it? Is it a test to see when the kid can figure out the difference himself? It certainly isn't to foster long-term trust in the parent...
You might be amused at my story of learning about Santa - I'd like to hear your experiences and opinions as well.
I was in a parochial school when a boy in my class came in one morning, mad and crying, and announced to the class that there is no Santa Clause (his parents had told him). I thought that sounded right, but I was a cautious child and decided I ought to not share my opinion just yet. The class debated the existence of Santa for quite some time. When I went home, I asked my mother what would happen if I didn’t believe in Santa Clause. She told me that he wouldn’t bring me any more presents. Most of the toys were always “from Santa†and the only gifts from my parents were socks and underwear – and perhaps an orange or an apple, so when my mother followed up by asking if I believed in Santa, of course I said I did, and I knew I’d better not let anyone know that I knew or my mother would find out.
The next day at recess, a nun was walking with a classmate of mine and me. I recognized the unique position I had of being “in†on the secret the adults had, and I could play the same game not only with the other children, but I could also play it right back to the adults who had been playing it with us before we knew it was a game. My classmate was quite confused, and asked the nun she believed in Santa – she said she did. Then he asked me if I believed in Santa – I said yes. My classmate said “but how do you know Santa exists? You never see him.â€
Although my face was pointed at the boy, my attention was on the nun as I said “You never see God either, and you know He exists, right?†I will never forget the look of consternation on that nun’s face. She couldn’t say a thing because she had just finished saying that she believed in Santa Clause.
The boy then broke out in a big grin, danced around and said "Yes! I believe! I believe in Santa Clause!" I have no idea if he caught the joke I played back on the nun and was playing along too or not.
When I was about 13 years old, my parents told me to sit down at the table because there was something I should know before I went to high school. My mother stated “There is no Santa Clause.†I said I knew. My mother exclaimed “What?!?!†I explained about the kid in class, and reminded her of our conversation that night, and explained my reason for lying to her. My father started laughing so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. My mother was furious that I had fooled her all of those years, and that she “had to†stay up until midnight all of those years. I told her I had wondered how long it was going to take her to tell me the truth. My father declared that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life (and he was not easily amused). My mother declared that she was going to give me the silent treatment for a week, and she was successful at it for several days (a “punishment†that I consistently found to be very rewarding).
I can understand about encouraging creativity, but telling children fables and clarifying for them the difference between what is real and what is a fable would, IMO, accomplish the same encouragement. Do they do it because everyone else does? If so, why did the first parents do it? Is it a test to see when the kid can figure out the difference himself? It certainly isn't to foster long-term trust in the parent...
You might be amused at my story of learning about Santa - I'd like to hear your experiences and opinions as well.
I was in a parochial school when a boy in my class came in one morning, mad and crying, and announced to the class that there is no Santa Clause (his parents had told him). I thought that sounded right, but I was a cautious child and decided I ought to not share my opinion just yet. The class debated the existence of Santa for quite some time. When I went home, I asked my mother what would happen if I didn’t believe in Santa Clause. She told me that he wouldn’t bring me any more presents. Most of the toys were always “from Santa†and the only gifts from my parents were socks and underwear – and perhaps an orange or an apple, so when my mother followed up by asking if I believed in Santa, of course I said I did, and I knew I’d better not let anyone know that I knew or my mother would find out.
The next day at recess, a nun was walking with a classmate of mine and me. I recognized the unique position I had of being “in†on the secret the adults had, and I could play the same game not only with the other children, but I could also play it right back to the adults who had been playing it with us before we knew it was a game. My classmate was quite confused, and asked the nun she believed in Santa – she said she did. Then he asked me if I believed in Santa – I said yes. My classmate said “but how do you know Santa exists? You never see him.â€
Although my face was pointed at the boy, my attention was on the nun as I said “You never see God either, and you know He exists, right?†I will never forget the look of consternation on that nun’s face. She couldn’t say a thing because she had just finished saying that she believed in Santa Clause.
The boy then broke out in a big grin, danced around and said "Yes! I believe! I believe in Santa Clause!" I have no idea if he caught the joke I played back on the nun and was playing along too or not.
When I was about 13 years old, my parents told me to sit down at the table because there was something I should know before I went to high school. My mother stated “There is no Santa Clause.†I said I knew. My mother exclaimed “What?!?!†I explained about the kid in class, and reminded her of our conversation that night, and explained my reason for lying to her. My father started laughing so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. My mother was furious that I had fooled her all of those years, and that she “had to†stay up until midnight all of those years. I told her I had wondered how long it was going to take her to tell me the truth. My father declared that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life (and he was not easily amused). My mother declared that she was going to give me the silent treatment for a week, and she was successful at it for several days (a “punishment†that I consistently found to be very rewarding).
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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Elizabeth Isabelle wrote:
It's a way of life, baby, get with the program. That old Christian morality about tell the truth is passe. Tell anything but the truth, anything that will get you what you need. Santa and the tooth fairy are just warmups for getting kids hip to the big picture.
Because adults are hypocrites. Actually, society supports lying, either outright or by inference. Townships lie to the public when they post speed limits and then do not enforce them. Govenments lie to their citizens when they declare wars, collect taxes, and conduct elections. Corporations lie to their consumers when they test and advertise.Why do parents tell lies to their children , then expect children to be truthful with their parents?
It's a way of life, baby, get with the program. That old Christian morality about tell the truth is passe. Tell anything but the truth, anything that will get you what you need. Santa and the tooth fairy are just warmups for getting kids hip to the big picture.
Good Citizen Carl
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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- Dan Rowden
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We lie to our children and teach them to believe in fables, at the expense of Reality and of children's own imaginations, which are far more fascinating anyway, so as to prepare them for adulthood. There they will also live in a world of lies and have to defer their own minds and imaginations to social fables for "grownups".
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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- Joined: Tue Sep 05, 2006 11:35 am
My mother was seriously mentally unstable. My father went along with her antics because he never understood why his first wife had the MPs sitting on his front doorstep with his stuff and divorce papers (he really was severely abusive too in his own way, but he never saw it that way. He just expected everyone around him to be perfect except his wife, and he just tolerated everything from her because he realized that no one else would have anything to do with him - including his kids from his first marriage).
You know how there's one kid in every class that everyone picks on? In every school I went to, I was the kid that even those kids picked on. Nobody liked me anyway, so my main goal was to keep things as smooth as possible at home.
I was also seriously unsocialized. When I was very young, my mother would not let me in the house during the summer except for meals and bedtime, and I was only to come home when I was called. She told me to do what the dog told me to do, so many of my behaviors were like the dog. I was still shaking myself dry when I got out of the water until I was 15 or 16, when my father saw me get out of a pool.
Severe child abuse has many effects. I am reasonably mature now, but I wasn't really given a chance to grow into a human until my mother died (when I was 20). My father didn't have much contact with me until he retired (when I was 15). My mother hated me for being born, and even worse for being born female. She took revenge on me for being alive in every way she could, including convincing teachers and anyone else she could that there was something seriously wrong with me, but that she was handling it the best that anyone could. There was something wrong, but it was not an organic problem. There was no way for my father to know at that time that I was not mentally damaged.
I did well on standardized tests, but by all rights I should have been retarded. My mother went through menopause 7 years before I was born, so the doctor kept telling her she was not pregnant and that I was just gas until a month before I was born. My mother did not get prenatal care, and in fact lost a great deal of weight during her pregnancy. Once the doctor figured out that I existed, he told my parents that there was a big chance that I would be retarded, so between that and my mother preventing him from seeing or speaking with me very much, and telling him her warped view of me, and me just going along with anything I was told (I was severely punished for disagreeing with anything anyway and was always the typical "too good" kid that any severely abused child behaves like), he probably figured it was possible that I was just as crazy as my mother and many people from her side of the family.
You know how there's one kid in every class that everyone picks on? In every school I went to, I was the kid that even those kids picked on. Nobody liked me anyway, so my main goal was to keep things as smooth as possible at home.
I was also seriously unsocialized. When I was very young, my mother would not let me in the house during the summer except for meals and bedtime, and I was only to come home when I was called. She told me to do what the dog told me to do, so many of my behaviors were like the dog. I was still shaking myself dry when I got out of the water until I was 15 or 16, when my father saw me get out of a pool.
Severe child abuse has many effects. I am reasonably mature now, but I wasn't really given a chance to grow into a human until my mother died (when I was 20). My father didn't have much contact with me until he retired (when I was 15). My mother hated me for being born, and even worse for being born female. She took revenge on me for being alive in every way she could, including convincing teachers and anyone else she could that there was something seriously wrong with me, but that she was handling it the best that anyone could. There was something wrong, but it was not an organic problem. There was no way for my father to know at that time that I was not mentally damaged.
I did well on standardized tests, but by all rights I should have been retarded. My mother went through menopause 7 years before I was born, so the doctor kept telling her she was not pregnant and that I was just gas until a month before I was born. My mother did not get prenatal care, and in fact lost a great deal of weight during her pregnancy. Once the doctor figured out that I existed, he told my parents that there was a big chance that I would be retarded, so between that and my mother preventing him from seeing or speaking with me very much, and telling him her warped view of me, and me just going along with anything I was told (I was severely punished for disagreeing with anything anyway and was always the typical "too good" kid that any severely abused child behaves like), he probably figured it was possible that I was just as crazy as my mother and many people from her side of the family.
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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- Joined: Tue Sep 05, 2006 11:35 am
-
Steven Coyle
Lizzy
It is a strange world for some people, isn't it. I can see why you've been lead towards a seeking of truth.
he probably figured it was possible that I was just as crazy as my mother and many people from her side of the family.
Why do you think this abundance of craziness exists on her side of the family? Do you think it is genetic or principally a chain of learnt neuroticisms handed down by the neurotic behaviour of the parents, generation after generation. Are there a number of intellectually brilliant people on your mothers side of the family. Are there many autisitcs.
It is a strange world for some people, isn't it. I can see why you've been lead towards a seeking of truth.
he probably figured it was possible that I was just as crazy as my mother and many people from her side of the family.
Why do you think this abundance of craziness exists on her side of the family? Do you think it is genetic or principally a chain of learnt neuroticisms handed down by the neurotic behaviour of the parents, generation after generation. Are there a number of intellectually brilliant people on your mothers side of the family. Are there many autisitcs.
- Elizabeth Isabelle
- Posts: 3771
- Joined: Tue Sep 05, 2006 11:35 am
Jamesh wrote:
I think my grandfather was pretty normal, and was a hard worker when he was young. He was a plumber, but he also built many houses. I couldn't understand a word of what he said (neither could my father) so I couldn't ask him anything directly, and no one on my mother's side of the family would tell me much about him.
My grandmother was pretty intelligent, but I got the impression from her that not much of the rest of the family was. She willed me her set of The Harvard Classics because, in her words, "I can't imagine that anyone else in the family would actually read them." Before she died, she also gave me her copy of a book of poetry by e.e. cummings (my favorite poet) and her copy of Siddhartha, which I have since had to replace. She was a mean alcoholic, and played people against each other. She was definatly the matriarch. She only lied about me once, when I was very, very, young - and I got mad at her for it and would not speak to her again until she apologized. She never lied to or about me again, but I was the only one she never lied to or about after that. I think the family resented that.
I understand that my grandmother was in a bad car accident with all four of her children when they were very young. My mother kept re-telling that story for years, and I wonder if the accident caused some kind of brain damage in her where she did not develop emotionally after that.
There was abuse in the house when my mother was growing up - I heard stories about my grandmother throwing frying pans at my grandfather, and yanking my aunt’s arm out of it’s socket. My half sister was raised by my grandmother – my mother divorced her first husband shortly after her “real†daughter was born (I was just a “thing†God sent down to punish her for not raising her daughter), but my half sister didn’t tell me about any abuse going on then. She just told me about the abandonment she experienced, and showed me letters that our mother sent every week with the check she sent our grandmother, and more excuses about why she couldn’t visit that weekend either. My grandmother made my mother take her back after she and my father married, and my half sister experienced some similar abuse to what I did for a couple of years before she ran away. She ended up in an abusive marriage and returned to the family after her divorce, on the advice of a counselor. She seemed fine until she got a job in the customer complaints department at a major newspaper corporation. I think she is an example of mental health counseling gone awry, because after her training there, she got really sing-songy, and at one point told me “Everything is wonderful – everything is fine. If a parent wants to throw their child against a wall, that’s just their way of expressing themselves, so that’s okay.†I decided not to talk to her much after that.
There were just always fights, screaming, crying, and lots of lies, but my grandmother was the only one on my mother’s side of the family who drank, as far as I know.
My aunt was very possessive and controlling of her 5 kids. She always had to have at least two of her “boys†with her wherever she went, even when her “boys†were in their 20’s and early 30’s (which was the last that I had contact with them, I don’t know if anything’s changed). She just would not let them grow up. Her daughter ran away to get married, and two of her sons were married briefly – but they still were very much controlled by their mother. The things my mother had to say about them were not very complimentary, but I doubt the truth of my mother’s words.
I had two uncles. One was normal and became an accountant. The other couldn’t get a job, so my grandfather gave him some land and built a gas station for him to run. When I was young, I thought he was quiet but okay. When I was a teenager, he was – well, I could just tell he didn’t like me. Perhaps it was just because of the lies my mother told.
The funeral for my mother was in Florida, but there was kind of a strange gathering in Maine for her burial. The strange uncle, his wife, and grown children showed up but stayed behind the cars. Only one of his daughters dared to speak to me. After the burial, we went to my aunt’s house. I started to talk to one of my cousins who I was really good friends with as a little kid, and at first he spoke with me with that same old sparkle in his eye, then suddenly he stopped, grunted at me, and stared straight ahead. I noticed his father had walked into the room, and was now staring at me. He gave me a smug grin to show that I was not going to weasel my way into the family.
So Jamesh, the answer is I don’t know. Do you have any ideas? Your guess is probably as good as mine.
I don't know a whole lot about my mother's side of the family. Until I was 9, we lived in New Hampshire and visited every Sunday (although most of the time I was outside alone, or upstairs alone when it was too cold out), but after that I didn't have much contact. My mother was on the phone with my grandmother for hours every Saturday, but my mother wouldn't let me have much contact with or tell me much about "her" family. People who live in Maine are kind of funny about how a person has to grow up there or else they will always be an outsider. I'd hear the flat-out lies that my mother would tell about me on the phone, but there was nothing I could do about it. I spent a couple of weeks there in the summers when I was 15 (my mother's daughter ran away from home a year before I was born, and that was the first year she had contact with the family again, so that's when I met her for the first time and got to see the family with more adult eyes for the first time)and again when I was 16, and I spent about a week and a half helping my mother take care of them during winter break when I was 17, and during that time I got to know my grandmother again. The only time I went back was when my father and I drove her ashes up to be buried in the family plot. My father's last wish was that I not contact her side of the family after he died until they contacted me, just to see how long it would take them. I waited 9 months until I had to move, and decided to send my mother's daughter a box of pictures and old letters that I knew she would want (she'd divorced again and moved without saying anything, and her ex-husband told me and forwarded the box, so I got my father's point anyway). She sent my father a thank you note, so I figured that was close enough to write back and notify her that Dad had died 9 months before. I got a rather shocked phone call from our aunt a few days later, who wanted to verify this. That was 7 years ago and I have not heard from them since. I discovered last Christmas that it can take 5 years for a death to show up on ancestry.com, so that's what I mean when I say "dead or gone" because I really don't know.Why do you think this abundance of craziness exists on her side of the family? Do you think it is genetic or principally a chain of learnt neuroticisms handed down by the neurotic behaviour of the parents, generation after generation. Are there a number of intellectually brilliant people on your mothers side of the family. Are there many autisitcs.
I think my grandfather was pretty normal, and was a hard worker when he was young. He was a plumber, but he also built many houses. I couldn't understand a word of what he said (neither could my father) so I couldn't ask him anything directly, and no one on my mother's side of the family would tell me much about him.
My grandmother was pretty intelligent, but I got the impression from her that not much of the rest of the family was. She willed me her set of The Harvard Classics because, in her words, "I can't imagine that anyone else in the family would actually read them." Before she died, she also gave me her copy of a book of poetry by e.e. cummings (my favorite poet) and her copy of Siddhartha, which I have since had to replace. She was a mean alcoholic, and played people against each other. She was definatly the matriarch. She only lied about me once, when I was very, very, young - and I got mad at her for it and would not speak to her again until she apologized. She never lied to or about me again, but I was the only one she never lied to or about after that. I think the family resented that.
I understand that my grandmother was in a bad car accident with all four of her children when they were very young. My mother kept re-telling that story for years, and I wonder if the accident caused some kind of brain damage in her where she did not develop emotionally after that.
There was abuse in the house when my mother was growing up - I heard stories about my grandmother throwing frying pans at my grandfather, and yanking my aunt’s arm out of it’s socket. My half sister was raised by my grandmother – my mother divorced her first husband shortly after her “real†daughter was born (I was just a “thing†God sent down to punish her for not raising her daughter), but my half sister didn’t tell me about any abuse going on then. She just told me about the abandonment she experienced, and showed me letters that our mother sent every week with the check she sent our grandmother, and more excuses about why she couldn’t visit that weekend either. My grandmother made my mother take her back after she and my father married, and my half sister experienced some similar abuse to what I did for a couple of years before she ran away. She ended up in an abusive marriage and returned to the family after her divorce, on the advice of a counselor. She seemed fine until she got a job in the customer complaints department at a major newspaper corporation. I think she is an example of mental health counseling gone awry, because after her training there, she got really sing-songy, and at one point told me “Everything is wonderful – everything is fine. If a parent wants to throw their child against a wall, that’s just their way of expressing themselves, so that’s okay.†I decided not to talk to her much after that.
There were just always fights, screaming, crying, and lots of lies, but my grandmother was the only one on my mother’s side of the family who drank, as far as I know.
My aunt was very possessive and controlling of her 5 kids. She always had to have at least two of her “boys†with her wherever she went, even when her “boys†were in their 20’s and early 30’s (which was the last that I had contact with them, I don’t know if anything’s changed). She just would not let them grow up. Her daughter ran away to get married, and two of her sons were married briefly – but they still were very much controlled by their mother. The things my mother had to say about them were not very complimentary, but I doubt the truth of my mother’s words.
I had two uncles. One was normal and became an accountant. The other couldn’t get a job, so my grandfather gave him some land and built a gas station for him to run. When I was young, I thought he was quiet but okay. When I was a teenager, he was – well, I could just tell he didn’t like me. Perhaps it was just because of the lies my mother told.
The funeral for my mother was in Florida, but there was kind of a strange gathering in Maine for her burial. The strange uncle, his wife, and grown children showed up but stayed behind the cars. Only one of his daughters dared to speak to me. After the burial, we went to my aunt’s house. I started to talk to one of my cousins who I was really good friends with as a little kid, and at first he spoke with me with that same old sparkle in his eye, then suddenly he stopped, grunted at me, and stared straight ahead. I noticed his father had walked into the room, and was now staring at me. He gave me a smug grin to show that I was not going to weasel my way into the family.
So Jamesh, the answer is I don’t know. Do you have any ideas? Your guess is probably as good as mine.
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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Steven Coyle
- sue hindmarsh
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Dan wrote:
If they’d been bought up without all those lies and inconsistencies, they would potentially be both emotionally and intellectually stable enough to learn to trust in their own minds. Then they would be able to question the world around them, and calmly work out their own conclusions about it. They would be able to see through the lies of love and happiness, hatred and fear – and still remain calm and focused.
But for this to take place, you’d first need adults that are rational – and from my observations, they are as rare as ‘hen’s teeth’.
-
Sue
Yes, children grow up torn between wanting to believe that they can trust their parents, and the knowledge that these same adults are inconsistent in both thought and action. This circumstance creates an unsteady foundation for children’s development, causing them to grab hold of any nonsense, so long as it supports their lives for a period of time. In this way, they grow up to become just as inconsistent and desperate as their parents.We lie to our children and teach them to believe in fables, at the expense of Reality and of children's own imaginations, which are far more fascinating anyway, so as to prepare them for adulthood. There they will also live in a world of lies and have to defer their own minds and imaginations to social fables for "grownups".
If they’d been bought up without all those lies and inconsistencies, they would potentially be both emotionally and intellectually stable enough to learn to trust in their own minds. Then they would be able to question the world around them, and calmly work out their own conclusions about it. They would be able to see through the lies of love and happiness, hatred and fear – and still remain calm and focused.
But for this to take place, you’d first need adults that are rational – and from my observations, they are as rare as ‘hen’s teeth’.
-
Sue
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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I agree.Sue Hindmarsh wrote:This circumstance creates an unsteady foundation for children’s development, causing them to grab hold of any nonsense, so long as it supports their lives for a period of time. In this way, they grow up to become just as inconsistent and desperate as their parents.
If they’d been bought up without all those lies and inconsistencies, they would potentially be both emotionally and intellectually stable enough to learn to trust in their own minds. Then they would be able to question the world around them, and calmly work out their own conclusions about it.
In order for people to know Ultimate Reality, they must at some point develop a confidence that they can tell the difference between falseness and reality. By brainwashing children at an early age, their confidence in themselves is eroded. By feeding them "junk thoughts" they may even lose faith that Truth exists.
Carl wrote:
How did you react when you learned that you had been fooled about Santa and the tooth fairy?society supports lying, either outright or by inference. Townships lie to the public when they post speed limits and then do not enforce them. Govenments lie to their citizens when they declare wars, collect taxes, and conduct elections. Corporations lie to their consumers when they test and advertise.
It's a way of life, baby, get with the program. That old Christian morality about tell the truth is passe. Tell anything but the truth, anything that will get you what you need. Santa and the tooth fairy are just warmups for getting kids hip to the big picture.
-
millipodium
We lie to our children because sometimes life simply requires an irrational belief in oneself and the world, just to keep from killing oneself. Ripping away ALL of the positive programming leads people to fall for evil, out of desperation. Of course, this is how the enemies of freedom seek to destroy it, by destroying hope.
- Elizabeth Isabelle
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I agree with that part.millipodium wrote: Ripping away ALL of the positive programming leads people to fall for evil, out of desperation. Of course, this is how the enemies of freedom seek to destroy it, by destroying hope.
The difference I see is that tricking people into falling for lies destroys hope. By teaching truth rather than lies, one can develop a rational belief in one's self and the world, and that rational belief can come to fruition.
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millipodium
Actually from a purely rational standpoing, the odds are against you.Elizabeth Isabelle wrote:I agree with that part.millipodium wrote: Ripping away ALL of the positive programming leads people to fall for evil, out of desperation. Of course, this is how the enemies of freedom seek to destroy it, by destroying hope.
The difference I see is that tricking people into falling for lies destroys hope. By teaching truth rather than lies, one can develop a rational belief in one's self and the world, and that rational belief can come to fruition.
Hope is fundamentally irrational.
http://www.psalm40.org/thinkman.html
If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't.
If you'd like to win, but think you can't
It's almost a cinch you won't.
If you think you'll lose, you've lost.
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow's will:
It's all in his state of mind.
If you think you're outclassed, you are:
You've got to think high to rise,
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You'll ever win that prize.
Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But sooner or later the man who wins
Is the one who thinks he can.
Attributed to Author Napoleon Hill circa 1973
- Cory Duchesne
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Millipodium wrote
I question whether or not I need hope, emotion. By doing so I find my self more resistant to evil than anyone I know.
Whereas you on the otherhand have a drinking problem.
Sure, maybe for the majority of people, but why do you think that applies to everyone?We lie to our children because sometimes life simply requires an irrational belief in oneself and the world, just to keep from killing oneself.
'Falling for evil' occurs just as often with 'positive programers', probably more so. That is why socrates was considered the inventor of ethics. He was the one strong enough to live with knowing only that which he could be sure of.Ripping away ALL of the positive programming leads people to fall for evil, out of desperation.
Ok george doublya.Of course, this is how the enemies of freedom seek to destroy it, by destroying hope.
I question whether or not I need hope, emotion. By doing so I find my self more resistant to evil than anyone I know.
Whereas you on the otherhand have a drinking problem.

