A Few Words from Gerald Michael Rolfeabout Garrison Keillor's essay "The big lie" from Salon.comThis one came to me as a request for help from my darling stepdaughter (of sorts) Megan. She was assigned Keillor's essay for a first year college English class, and while she felt like she had the English composition down, Megan asked me to give her help with what she thought to be the underlying political message. Opinionated one that I am, I happily accepted the assignment.
Upon first reading the essay, I discovered that it was more broadly philosophical than specifically political in nature -- these things usually are with Keillor anyway. And the essay is also typically Keillor in that it is rendered with folksy, accessible charm, peppered with believable anecdotes and hilarious imagery. I have to admit that I enjoyed reading it very much. And my assignment from Megan is fairly easily completed with just one sentence -- politically, Keillor is completely opposed to what he sees as President Bush's obsession with the war in Iraq and the administration's seeming disregard for every other issue as a result of that obsession.
Yawn.
I'll dispense with the politics first. Garrison Keillor lopes alongside a gargantuan pack of his fellow liberals who have been baying this message at moon after moon after moon. There is nothing new here other than the priceless metaphor of an SUV being driven the wrong way by cocker spaniels --
intense cocker spaniels even. The left still hates what the Bush administration is doing, and the Bush administration still chastises the left as enemies of homeland security. The truth is somewhere in middle.
Keillor and his pack conveniently ignore the things the Bush administration is doing that are entirely apart from their Iraq policy (some of which are arguably positive doings), and the administration itself ignores the possibility that the howls of Keillor's left, howls that are warning us against an impending collapse of our nation's economy and sovereignty and principles, probably merit serious attention. One need only know recent history to see that the
status quo is hereby evident.
President Clinton's critics intimated similar warnings about the imminent demise of the republic. As did George Bush Sr.'s. As did Reagan's. As did Carter's. As did Ford's and Nixon's, and most similarly to today's doomsayers, Lyndon Johnson's. As long as democrats and republicans are trashing each other in the media, those of us who think independently, rather than by checking off a party platform list to determine our opinions, can take comfort in knowing that we have indeed awakened in the same world in which we went to sleep the night before. The rules are still the rules and the pawns are still the pawns. Amen to that! This essay of Keillor's has nothing else to offer politically, and that's just fine with me.
Fine with me, because Keillor's essay is really a great little philosophical exercise. If I were teaching freshman ethics, I would love to use this essay as a launching point for class discussion. Keillor's premises are clear (though assailable), and what is also fairly clear is that his conclusion follows. There's nothing better to build the confidence of aspiring philosophers than to offer them a respected cultural semi-icon's argument and then let them peel away the thin skin to expose an unformed core, but one that is at least correctly structured. This Keillor essay is tailor-made for freshmen.
Here are the aw shucks radio host's premises about lying:
- There's no need to face the truth all at once.
- One should not lie to oneself.
- (But sometimes you have to so) Self-deception is useful.
- Everyone needs to be honest with at least one friend.
These are some really nice premises heading toward (actually emanating from) a conclusion. And what is the folk-philosopher's conclusion?
Garrison Keillor's conclusion in "The big lie" is his essay's very first sentence -- "It's good to know how to lie, and lie effectively." And he means it. He believes in lies for the sake of sparing others -- of sparing them embarrassment, of sparing them the pain of having to listen to our little hardships when they ask politely, "So how's it going?", of sparing them the necessity of looking honestly at their own children through the eyes of others. He even believes in lying to oneself "when you're feeling overwhelmed by your obligations. But if you're going to lie, Keillor's rule of primacy is that it must be done "effectively".
He doesn't take issue at all with the fact that the Bush administration lies, but rather that they are so very ineffective at doing so. Garrison Keillor doesn't lie to himself when it comes to recognizing that politicians lie to the people. He even off-handedly compliments the current executive branch for sounding "so resonant and believable" when they lie to us. But Keillor is beside himself with the fact that no one close to George Bush is telling him the truth. Keillor thinks that President Bush has made lying to himself as natural as peeing in the rose garden at night when he thinks he's all alone, and again, it's not the fact that the President is lying to himself that Keillor can't stand -- it's the fact that he's doing it ineffectively -- that he's not reaping Keillor's utlitarian benefit of lying -- that he's doing it at the wrong time and in the wrong measure, and without even one friend with whom he can honestly discuss anything.
Oh, brother!
Has a liberal really just gone on record admitting that the problem with the Bush administration is that they don't lie as well, as effectively, as liberals do?
Yet again, I cannot disagree with Keillor. The man is as smooth as the corn he serves on his radio show is bumpy. For that I applaud and respect him. It's just a shame that I'm not one of his one or two good friends. It means that though I'll read him and laugh at the funny things he writes, I can't ever really believe a word it.
Gerald Michael Rolfe
