If a lie is repeated often enough all the dumb jackasses in the world not only get to believe it, they even swear by it.

The great masses of the people will more easily fall victims to a big lie than to a small one.

You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.

Legend, n.: A lie that has attained the dignity of age.

(This comes from Australia...) I am in almost terminal shock at the revelation by the Republican Party that a politician lied to the public. And it was such an important lie. So much more important than Jack Kennedy's firm statement that the U.S.A. was not involved in the Bay of Pigs invasion. So much more important than Dwight Eisenhower's denial that U-2 spy planes were passing over Russia. So much more important than Lyndon Johnson's statement that a U.S. ship had been attacked by a North Vietnamese torpedo boat. So much more important than Richard Nixon's denial of any involvement with the Watergate burglary, and more important than Ronald Reagan's lies about almost everything. All of that is trivia. The Republicans have nailed Clinton on something that really matters: a sex act! An act that threatens the national security of the United States of America. I always thought a gentleman was supposed to lie about such things. Surely you wonder what impression all this is creating in other countries. The whole thing has been summed up by a letter-to-the-editor in Australia. In a letter to the Sidney Morning Herald, a writer nailed it in one line: "Thank God we got the convicts and they got the Puritans."

An October New York Times dispatch from India highlighted the growing problem of intra-family frauds in which one member will claim a living relative's land or wealth by swearing to the government that the relative is dead. An advocacy group, the Association of Dead People, helps aggrieved citizens figure out just how to prove that they are indeed alive, which can be a difficult concept for India's bargelike bureaucracies to accept. The association's founder said he remained officially dead even after he ran for office, filed lawsuits and got arrested just to get his name on public records. [New York Times, 10-24-00]

Marge, it takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.

A defendant in a lawsuit involving large sums of money was saying to his lawyer, "If I lose this case, I'll be ruined." "It's in the judge's hands now," said the lawyer. "Would it help if I sent the judge a box of cigars?" asked the defendant. "Oh no!" said the lawyer. "This judge is a stickler for ethical behavior. A stunt like that would prejudice him against you. He might even find you in contempt of the court. In fact, you shouldn't even smile at the judge." Within the course of time, the judge rendered a decision in favor of the defendant. As the defendant left the courthouse, he said to his lawyer, "Thanks for the tip about the cigars. It worked." "Well, I'm sure we would have lost the case if you'd sent them," said the lawyer. "But I did send them," said the defendant. "What?!? You did?" "Yes. That's how we won the case." "I don't understand," said the lawyer. "It's easy. I sent the cheapest cigars that I could find to the judge, but enclosed the plaintiff's business card."

I read of a guy who lived in Tennessee in 1889. His name was Chadsworth. He apparently was a scoundrel, and was finally hanged for horse stealing and train robbery. The only known photo of him shows him standing on the gallows. The inscription informs us: "Chadsworth, horse thief, sent to prison in 1885, escaped in 1887, robbed the Tennessee Flyer train six times, caught by Pinkerton detectives, convicted and hanged." Well, the family didn't really want that on the record so they changed the story just a bit. It read: "Chadsworth was a famous rancher in early Tennessee history. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Tennessee railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years at a government facility, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, Chadsworth passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed." And some wag has recently added, "And thus passed the very first hanging Chad." See, the family didn't really change any of the facts of poor old Chadsworth's life--they just put a different "spin" on them.

If you're too cold, or too hot, at the office, you can always adjust the thermostat, right? Maybe. If you have access to it. But it turns out that even if a thermostat is within reach, it may be a fake. The Wall Street Journal quoted air conditioning experts in Wednesday's editions as saying a lot of office thermostats aren't connected to anything. They're just there to give employees a feeling of control and perhaps to shut them up about how hot or cold it is. Sometimes the employer who's leasing office space doesn't even know the thermostat is a fake. Other times, it's the employer who arranges for it. One specialist in Illinois estimated that 90 percent of office thermostats are dummies -- although others say the figure is less than 2 percent. He said that sooner or later, you just get tired of the complaints and just attach a phony thermostat. "They quit calling you," he said.

A police officer pulled a man over for speeding and had the following exchange: Officer: May I see your driver's license? Driver: I don't have one. I had it suspended when I got my fifth DUI. Officer: May I see the owner's card for this vehicle? Driver: It's not my car. I stole it. Officer: The car is stolen? Driver: That's right. But, come to think of it, I believe I saw the owner's card in the glove box when I was putting my gun in there. Officer: There's a gun in the glove box? Driver: Yes, sir. That's where I put it after I shot and killed the woman who owns this car and stuffed her in the trunk. Officer: There's a BODY in the TRUNK?!?!? Driver: Yes, sir. Hearing this, the officer immediately called his captain. The car was quickly surrounded by police, and the captain approached the driver: Captain: Sir, can I see your license? Driver: Sure. Here it is. It was valid. Captain: Who's car is this? Driver: It's mine, officer. Here's the registration. Captain: Could you slowly open your glove box so I can see if there's a gun in it? Driver: Yes, sir, but there's no gun in it. Sure enough, there was nothing in the glove box. Captain: Would you mind opening your trunk? I was told there's a body in it. Driver: No problem. The trunk was opened; no body. Captain: I don't understand it. The officer who stopped you said you told him you didn't have a license, stole the car, had a gun in the glovebox, and that there was a dead body in the trunk. Driver: Yeah, I'll bet he told you I was speeding, too.

Number of Wisconsin accounting students given take-home tests to accommodate an Enron whistle-blower's April speech: 78 Number later found to have cheated: 40

The most common lie is the lie one tells to oneself. -- Nietzsche

It has been said that there are three kinds of lies: white lies, black lies, and sermon illustrations.

Repetition does not transform a lie into a truth. – Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1939

Few people have had as many natural endowments or achievements to feel proud of as Edwin Hubble, the astronomer for whom the Hubble Space Telescope was named. Hubble was a gifted athlete. As writer Bill Bryson recounts, "At a single high school track meet in 1906, he won the pole vault, shot put, discus, hammer throw, standing high jump, and running high jump, and was on the winning mile-relay team—that is seven first places in one meet—and came in third in the broad jump. In the same year, he set a state record for the high jump in Illinois. On top of his athletic gifts, Hubble was extremely good-looking. One person described him as "handsome almost to a fault." Another called him an "Adonis." If that weren't enough, Hubble was intellectually gifted. He studied physics and astronomy at the elite University of Chicago, and he was selected to be one of the first Rhodes scholars at Oxford. When Hubble began his career as an astronomer at Mount Wilson Observatory in California, in 1919, only one galaxy was known: the Milky Way. But Hubble showed in a landmark paper in 1924 that the universe contained many galaxies. Then Hubble proved that the universe was expanding, an idea no physicist or astronomer had conceived of before. Either one of these achievements would have guaranteed Hubble a place in history. Yet for Hubble all of this was not enough. Hubble claimed he spent most of his late 20's and early 30's as a prestigious lawyer in Kentucky. Actually, he spent those years as a high school teacher in Indiana. Hubble boasted that in World War I he had bravely led "frightened men to safety across the battlefields of France." The truth was, he arrived in France only one month before the Armistice and probably never heard one shot fired. Hubble told people how he had daringly rescued drowning swimmers. But that story never happened. Hubble bragged about how he had taken on an exhibition bout with a world-class boxer and surprised the champion with an amazing knockdown punch. That, also, was too good to be true. What is it in human nature that makes us willing to lie to enhance our image? Citation: Kevin A. Miller, Carol Stream, Illinois; source: Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything (New York: Broadway Books, 2003)

Accentuate The Positive

Seventy-six percent of [six year olds] take the chance to peek during the game, and when asked if they peeked, 95 percent lie about it. But sometimes the researcher will read the child a short storybook before she asks about the peeking. One story read aloud is The Boy Who Cried Wolf—the version in which both the boy and the sheep get eaten because of his repeated lies. Alternatively, they read George Washington and the Cherry Tree, in which young George confesses to his father that he chopped down the prized tree with his new hatchet. The story ends with his father’s reply: “George, I’m glad that you cut down the tree after all. Hearing you tell the truth instead of a lie is better than if I had a thousand cherry trees.” Now, which story do you think reduced lying more? When we surveyed 1,300 people, 75 percent thought The Boy Who Cried Wolf would work better. However, this famous fable actually did not cut down lying at all in Talwar’s experiments. In fact, after hearing the story, kids lied even a little more than normal. Meanwhile, hearing George Washington and the Cherry Tree—even when Washington was replaced with a nondescript character, eliminating the potential that his iconic celebrity might influence older kids—reduced lying a sizable 43 percent in kids. Although most kids lied in the control situation, the majority hearing George Washington told the truth.