The following is an excerpt from Chapter 4 (The Spin Doctor, the Bullsh*t Artist, and Other Seducers We Don’t Want to Know, Like, or Trust) of ‘SELLING THE TRUTH: A Semoir with Insights for Life & Business,’ out this fall:
Compared to the Spin Doctor, the Bullsh*t Artist is less useful still. A spin doctor may at least have the good intention of sparing their client embarrassment over a regrettable incident. The Bullsh*t Artist is typically engaged in self-preservation and is weaving a litany of lies so disconnected from the truth that the only eventual outcome is total image immolation. Where a Spin Doctor might change strategies, a Bullsh*t Artist commits to wherever the narrative takes them. This leads to their storytelling wearing thin, due to the randomness, intricacy, and desperation of their lies.
For example, imagine you have hired Lemil to watch your beloved cat while you go on vacation, and upon your return, the cat, Miss Evelyne, is nowhere to be found. Lemil appears as baffled as you are:
Lemil: I don’t understand.
You: What don’t you understand? Where is Miss Evelyne?
Lemil: Where is she? (walking around the house) Evelyne! Miss Evelyne! She was here a minute ago. The front door. Did you leave the front door open?
You: She doesn’t run out the front door!
Lemil: Obviously, she’s here, then. I didn’t lose your cat, for Pete’s sake (laughs). I mean nobody takes care of a cat like I do. Look, here’s her yarn—she did the funniest trick with her yarn today.
You: (looking around the kitchen) What’s this? This is veal! And it’s for dogs! Miss Evelyne doesn’t eat meat!
Lemil: Of course, she doesn’t eat meat. I know that. The store delivered it by mistake. I opened it before I realized it was the wrong item…
You: There are two full scoops missing! You fed her this poison!
Lemil: Absolutely not! Oh my God! How could you think that?
The Bullsh*t Artist pushes credulity to the limit. They’re also likable enough and so committed to the lie that you want to believe them.
Lemil: Let’s run upstairs. Miss Evelyne is probably on your bed…but honestly, I’m kind of pissed off that you would jump to the conclusion that I (heading upstairs) … Evelyne! Miss Evelyne! Where are you, sweetheart?
Indignance is another telltale sign of Bullsh*t Artistry.
You: Ahhhhh!
Lemil: What?
You: There’s a fresh mound of dirt in the yard! You killed her and buried her there!
Lemil: Buried her? Now, you’re just messing with me. Is that it? You’re messing with me. It’s not funny, considering I did you a huge favor staying here for four days.
We’ll conclude the excerpt here, because you can only take so much Bullsh*t at a single sitting.
Speaking of which, if you’ve had enough Bullsh*t, and want to explore what’s possible on the way to INCOMPARABLE, let’s chat!
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