I’m sure we all have examples. The flip-flop on the importance of The Memo provides a very real current one, as clear as Winston Smith feeding the Memory Hole. Up until The Memo’s release, we were told by all the usual suspects that releasing such delicate classified information would be the End of the World as We Know It, a dastardly betrayal of our internal spies.
Then, upon release, The Memo became a nothingburger.
We have always been at war with Eastasia. How can millions of people be wrong?
A few years back, when the IRS’s treasonous perfidy came to light, I saw first hand, as K remarked, “everything we expect from years of government training.” In failing to approve tax exempt status of groups that would oppose the current administration, the IRS hamstrung any grassroot efforts of Obama’s opponents. That’s treason, however you dress it up.
On the day the news escaped into the wild despite the best efforts of the press to ignore it, my lovely niece, a lawyer with multiple degrees from elite universities, looked a little baffled. Then, the press nothingburgered it. And the next day she assured me it was no big deal, had been completely overblown.
A lawyer said this.
She just needed to wait to hear what the cool kids were saying, and that became the reasonable, right position. Shoving news from a few hours or minutes earlier down the chute to history’s incinerator is, frankly, a small, a very small price to pay to maintain one’s membership in good standing with all the Right People. The trick is that, with 16 or more years of training, the knee jerk reaction, the jettisoning everything needed to maintain the consensual hallucination, is so well ingrained that the process stands no chance of rising to consciousness. Like the children of alcoholics, the well schooled have learned thoroughly that the price of contradicting daddy’s version of events cannot possibly be worth the trouble. The little kids learn from the older ones to shut up and get in line, even if mommy’s story makes no sense and contradicts the evidence of their eyes. It’s a basic survival technique.
Peace, after this fashion, is way more important than the truth. What is truth, anyway? These victims are almost blameless. As with most of us in some way or another when it comes to our besetting faults, it would take a miracle to make them see themselves.
Which brings us to the theological point of all this: Christ says He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. We are to defend small ‘t’ truth in the name of big ‘T’ Truth. For the devil is the father of lies. We are not asked, usually, to swallow the big lie that is death all at once. Rather, we are inured, one little bite at a time, until we will swallow the manifest contradictions and hypocrisy of our betters without a hiccup. We develop the unhingeable jaws of the snake, our maws stretching wide such that, after proper training, we can swallow things unimaginable to the observer, things way bigger than our heads.