Uh-huh honey, I know that you’re lying
You lie seven days a week!
Seven times a day!
You lie, baby, you just keep on lying and lying…

— My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult, “Jive Ass Ave.”

Charles C.W. Cooke:

I record this here not to say “I told you so” — although there’s nothing wrong with doing that — but as a reminder that those people will also be lying when the next big topic comes up. This isn’t a one-time thing. It’s not limited to Joe Biden’s age or to this election. It’s endemic. If you’re willing to lie about the president not being senile when everyone can see that the president is senile, then you’re willing to lie about anything to advance your political goals. The people who lied about Biden’s senility will do exactly the same thing next time — tomorrow, probably, if not today — and the rest of us ought to remember that.

Charles is angry, but I’m in a great mood, and not just because of this latest demonstration of the beneficence of the trickster god who loves us and wants us to be amused. No, as delightful as it was to enjoy the fruits of epicaricacy while watching the Democrats’ Potemkin reality come a-tumbling down, I’m looking ahead to next week’s holiday and being grateful for an often-overlooked freedom: the freedom to not be a whore. Oh, it’s okay; I’m given to understand that “sex worker” is the official job title in our inclusive times, so I see no problem with reclaiming “whore” as a term denoting one of absent character or morals.

You might take this freedom for granted. You might be privileged enough to have relationships characterized by honesty and genuine affection. You might be fortunate enough to have a job in which your skills and performance count for far more than your glad-handing and ass-kissing abilities. Many people are not so fortunate, though. Consider the pundits, both professional and amateur, who have long since lost any instinct to trust their own senses. Consider the political insiders, who have to simultaneously inhabit the world they actually know, and the world they wish to represent to others. Imagine the cognitive dissonance! All of these poor whores have spent the last few years demanding that you not believe your lying eyes, watching their credibility dwindle all the while. None of them will ever know the simple pleasure of being able to speak the truth as they see it, without constantly calculating their words for maximum advantage in a game of 3-D chess. They might make ten times as much money as I do, but they’re prisoners of circumstance as much as any poor junkie staring at the unwashed crotch of her latest john.

I remember a joke from childhood: an American and a Russian are arguing about the merits of their respective nations. The American says, “In America, I’m free to walk into the White House, go right up to the Resolute desk in the Oval Office, and tell the President to his face, ‘Sir, you stink!’ and nothing will happen to me.”

“Big deal,” replies the Russian. “In the USSR, I’m free to walk into the Kremlin, go straight to the desk of the General Secretary, and say to his face, ‘Sir, the American President stinks!’ and nothing will happen to me.”

There are countless whores who pretend they’re brave by shouting “Trump stinks!” while quaking in fear at the thought of even whispering, “Trans women aren’t really women.” Take a moment to appreciate your freedom, as a non-whore, to be able to say both.