Mythomania

Maddog wrote:Pathological lying

Pathological lying, also known as mythomania and pseudologia fantastica, is the chronic behavior of compulsive or habitual lying.

Unlike telling the occasional white lie to avoid hurting someone’s feelings or getting in trouble, a pathological liar seems to lie for no apparent reason. This can make it frustrating or hard to know what to do if you believe you’ve met one.

Though pathological lying has been recognized for more than a century, there’s not yet a clear universal definition of the condition.

Some pathological lying may result from a mental condition, such as antisocial personality disorder (sometimes called sociopathy), while others appear to have no medical reason for the behavior.

Defining a pathological liar

A pathological liar is someone who lies compulsively. While there appears to be many possible causes for pathological lying, it’s not yet entirely understood why someone would lie this way.

Some lies seem to be told in order to make the pathological liar appear the hero, or to gain acceptance or sympathy, while there’s seemingly nothing to be gained from other lies.

Some evidence from 2007Trusted Source suggests that issues affecting the central nervous system may predispose someone to pathological lying.

Compulsive lying is also a known trait of some personality disorders, such as antisocial personality disorder. Trauma or head injuries may also play a role in pathological lying, along with an abnormality in hormone-cortisol ratio.

A 2016 studyTrusted Source of what happens in the brain when you lie found that the more untruths a person tells, the easier and more frequent lying becomes. The results also indicated that self-interest seems to fuel dishonesty.

Though the study didn’t specifically look at pathological lying, it may give some insight into why pathological liars lie as much and as easily as they do.

The following are some of the scientifically recognizedTrusted Source traits and characteristics of pathological liars.

Their lies seem to have no clear benefit

While a person might lie to avoid an uncomfortable situation, such as embarrassment or getting in trouble, a pathological liar tells lies or stories that don’t have an objective benefit.

Friends and family can find this especially frustrating because the person lying doesn’t stand to gain anything from their lies.

The stories they tell are usually dramatic, complicated, and detailed

Pathological liars are great storytellers. Their lies tend to be very detailed and colorful.

Even though obviously over-the-top, the pathological liar may be very convincing.

They usually portray themselves as the hero or victim

Along with being made the hero or victim in their stories, pathological liars tend to tell lies that seem to be geared at gaining admiration, sympathy, or acceptance by others.

They sometimes seem to believe the lies they tell

A pathological liar tells lies and stories that fall somewhere between conscious lying and delusion. They sometimes believe their own lies.

It’s difficult to know how to deal with a pathological liar who may not always be conscious of their lying. Some do it so often that experts believe they may not know the difference between fact and fiction after some time.

Pathological liars also tend to be natural performers. They’re eloquent and know how to engage with others when speaking. They’re creative and original, and quick thinkers who don’t usually show common signs of lying, such as long pauses or avoidance of eye contact.

When asked questions, they may speak a lot without ever being specific or answering the question.

https://www.healthline.com/health/pathological-liar


More at the link.

The Bitter Southerner wrote:I Am a Racist

By Rob Rushin
________________________________________
My family background is typically conservative in the way white Southern families have pretty much always been.
Our ancestors fought on both sides of the Civil War, but mostly for the Confederacy. One ancestor was a prosperous slave holder in South Georgia who, quite rightly, lost everything in the Southern Rebellion to Preserve Slavery. On the other side of the family, my great-grandfather was, among other things, a bootlegger in Mississippi who employed black men to help work his still, and who earned frequent uninvited visits from local Klansmen who disapproved of this economic arrangement. That these same hood-wearing jackals would shoot up the still on one day and buy my great-grandfather’s corn squeezings on the next is just another one of those weird-ass duality things. Like most Southern families, the past is a muddle of strange happenings and inherent contradiction.
Either way, the elders of my experience were polite, white Southerners who would never dream of being overtly rude to a “colored” (never a colored person, although occasionally perhaps a “Nigra,” that genteel substitute for the horrible word that I was taught from an early age was only used by “white trash”). There was also a belief that Those People were something other, absolutely less-than in some indefinable way, but who might also, through dint of hard work and diligence, elevate themselves above the aforementioned white trash. These were the “good ones” who proved (even then) that racism was over and done with, even though those “good ones” would never be quite good enough to live next door or date your daughter.
The granular slicing of social strata was elaborate. The point was to always have some group that was lower than your own.
And it came to pass somehow that at a tender young age, when we lived in the Tennessee tri-city area, I was given a small Stars and Bars [flag] of my own. I cannot remember who gave it to me, other than that it was a visiting relative, not my parents. It was not very large, and cheaply made, with staples holding it to a dowel that served as an ersatz flagpole. Nobody explained anything about it, other than that it was "the Southern flag." I hung it in my room and really didn't think much about it.
And then we moved to southern Connecticut, where I unpacked my stuff and hung it in my room. I still had no concept of what it meant. And it came to pass that I made friends in the neighborhood who were more overtly racist than anybody I'd known in the South. Not necessarily more racist, but they lacked the gentility to say “Nigra,” preferring that other word that gets readers of Huck Finn so riled up these days. And so, like anybody wanting to fit in, I started using it, too.
In the North, I attended an elementary school that was all white, with the lone exception of the son of the caretaker of our church. Willie and I became pretty good friends. You'd think this cognitive dissonance of having a chosen friend who was black and a bunch of racist neighborhood friends would provide a sharp spur of conscience in a young boy. No such luck.
One day, Willie visited my house. I'm not sure if he saw the flag or not. It really didn't occur to me that it might make a difference. But we somehow got into an argument, and I ended up getting mad and dropping the N-bomb on him. He punched me in the gut so hard I dropped to the ground. And he left to walk home, not even asking for a ride or the phone to call his mom.
And we never spoke again.
Make no mistake. I knew I was crossing a line when I said it, and I knew that it was fucked up to do so. But I felt I had it in my power to knock this really nice friend down to size, just because he made me mad about something. But he was having none of that.
I was around 10 years old at the time. The shame of what I did that day still burns. It's the most overtly racist act of my life, and that word has not passed my lips since. But I can't claim innocence of more subtle racist behaviors, like getting nervous when a group of black males gets on an empty subway car with me, or even just not considering that a great scientific advance might have been realized by a black man or woman, or of being surprised when I met a black man who loves ’80s hair-metal bands. Because that's not what they do, right?
I was not raised by bad or malevolent people. I was not taught to be racist, at least not in any obvious sense. But in a very real way, I was.
https://bittersoutherner.com/folklore-project/i-am-a-racist-charlottesville

Original Quill wrote:From The Bitter Southerner:

The Bitter Southerner wrote:I Am a Racist

By Rob Rushin
________________________________________
My family background is typically conservative in the way white Southern families have pretty much always been.

Our ancestors fought on both sides of the Civil War, but mostly for the Confederacy. One ancestor was a prosperous slave holder in South Georgia who, quite rightly, lost everything in the Southern Rebellion to Preserve Slavery. On the other side of the family, my great-grandfather was, among other things, a bootlegger in Mississippi who employed black men to help work his still, and who earned frequent uninvited visits from local Klansmen who disapproved of this economic arrangement. That these same hood-wearing jackals would shoot up the still on one day and buy my great-grandfather’s corn squeezings on the next is just another one of those weird-ass duality things. Like most Southern families, the past is a muddle of strange happenings and inherent contradiction.

Either way, the elders of my experience were polite, white Southerners who would never dream of being overtly rude to a “colored” (never a colored person, although occasionally perhaps a “Nigra,” that genteel substitute for the horrible word that I was taught from an early age was only used by “white trash”). There was also a belief that Those People were something other, absolutely less-than in some indefinable way, but who might also, through dint of hard work and diligence, elevate themselves above the aforementioned white trash. These were the “good ones” who proved (even then) that racism was over and done with, even though those “good ones” would never be quite good enough to live next door or date your daughter.

The granular slicing of social strata was elaborate. The point was to always have some group that was lower than your own.

And it came to pass somehow that at a tender young age, when we lived in the Tennessee tri-city area, I was given a small Stars and Bars [flag] of my own. I cannot remember who gave it to me, other than that it was a visiting relative, not my parents. It was not very large, and cheaply made, with staples holding it to a dowel that served as an ersatz flagpole. Nobody explained anything about it, other than that it was "the Southern flag." I hung it in my room and really didn't think much about it.

And then we moved to southern Connecticut, where I unpacked my stuff and hung it in my room. I still had no concept of what it meant. And it came to pass that I made friends in the neighborhood who were more overtly racist than anybody I'd known in the South. Not necessarily more racist, but they lacked the gentility to say “Nigra,” preferring that other word that gets readers of Huck Finn so riled up these days. And so, like anybody wanting to fit in, I started using it, too.

In the North, I attended an elementary school that was all white, with the lone exception of the son of the caretaker of our church. Willie and I became pretty good friends. You'd think this cognitive dissonance of having a chosen friend who was black and a bunch of racist neighborhood friends would provide a sharp spur of conscience in a young boy. No such luck.

One day, Willie visited my house. I'm not sure if he saw the flag or not. It really didn't occur to me that it might make a difference. But we somehow got into an argument, and I ended up getting mad and dropping the N-bomb on him. He punched me in the gut so hard I dropped to the ground. And he left to walk home, not even asking for a ride or the phone to call his mom.

And we never spoke again.

Make no mistake. I knew I was crossing a line when I said it, and I knew that it was fucked up to do so. But I felt I had it in my power to knock this really nice friend down to size, just because he made me mad about something. But he was having none of that.

I was around 10 years old at the time. The shame of what I did that day still burns. It's the most overtly racist act of my life, and that word has not passed my lips since. But I can't claim innocence of more subtle racist behaviors, like getting nervous when a group of black males gets on an empty subway car with me, or even just not considering that a great scientific advance might have been realized by a black man or woman, or of being surprised when I met a black man who loves ’80s hair-metal bands. Because that's not what they do, right?

I was not raised by bad or malevolent people. I was not taught to be racist, at least not in any obvious sense. But in a very real way, I was.

https://bittersoutherner.com/folklore-project/i-am-a-racist-charlottesville

inmyopinion wrote:

Maddog wrote:Pathological lying

Pathological lying, also known as mythomania and pseudologia fantastica, is the chronic behavior of compulsive or habitual lying.

Unlike telling the occasional white lie to avoid hurting someone’s feelings or getting in trouble, a pathological liar seems to lie for no apparent reason. This can make it frustrating or hard to know what to do if you believe you’ve met one.

Though pathological lying has been recognized for more than a century, there’s not yet a clear universal definition of the condition.

Some pathological lying may result from a mental condition, such as antisocial personality disorder (sometimes called sociopathy), while others appear to have no medical reason for the behavior.

Defining a pathological liar

A pathological liar is someone who lies compulsively. While there appears to be many possible causes for pathological lying, it’s not yet entirely understood why someone would lie this way.

Some lies seem to be told in order to make the pathological liar appear the hero, or to gain acceptance or sympathy, while there’s seemingly nothing to be gained from other lies.

Some evidence from 2007Trusted Source suggests that issues affecting the central nervous system may predispose someone to pathological lying.

Compulsive lying is also a known trait of some personality disorders, such as antisocial personality disorder. Trauma or head injuries may also play a role in pathological lying, along with an abnormality in hormone-cortisol ratio.

A 2016 studyTrusted Source of what happens in the brain when you lie found that the more untruths a person tells, the easier and more frequent lying becomes. The results also indicated that self-interest seems to fuel dishonesty.

Though the study didn’t specifically look at pathological lying, it may give some insight into why pathological liars lie as much and as easily as they do.

The following are some of the scientifically recognizedTrusted Source traits and characteristics of pathological liars.

Their lies seem to have no clear benefit

While a person might lie to avoid an uncomfortable situation, such as embarrassment or getting in trouble, a pathological liar tells lies or stories that don’t have an objective benefit.

Friends and family can find this especially frustrating because the person lying doesn’t stand to gain anything from their lies.

The stories they tell are usually dramatic, complicated, and detailed

Pathological liars are great storytellers. Their lies tend to be very detailed and colorful.

Even though obviously over-the-top, the pathological liar may be very convincing.

They usually portray themselves as the hero or victim

Along with being made the hero or victim in their stories, pathological liars tend to tell lies that seem to be geared at gaining admiration, sympathy, or acceptance by others.

They sometimes seem to believe the lies they tell

A pathological liar tells lies and stories that fall somewhere between conscious lying and delusion. They sometimes believe their own lies.

It’s difficult to know how to deal with a pathological liar who may not always be conscious of their lying. Some do it so often that experts believe they may not know the difference between fact and fiction after some time.

Pathological liars also tend to be natural performers. They’re eloquent and know how to engage with others when speaking. They’re creative and original, and quick thinkers who don’t usually show common signs of lying, such as long pauses or avoidance of eye contact.

When asked questions, they may speak a lot without ever being specific or answering the question.

https://www.healthline.com/health/pathological-liar


More at the link.

You can understand a lie to protect someone, soften a blow, save hurt feelings but the idea someone lied because they can't help themselves is both sad and worrying. I wouldn't want to be their friend or family.

Maddog wrote:What does that have to do with the topic?

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:What does that have to do with the topic?

It's a poignant narrative about the myths that southerners are inculcated with when raised in the south.  And how, even when they move north, they carry that same racist zeitgeist with them.

Remember when you and Ben were questioning, how can a Minneapolis cop be racist?  Here's the answer.

Maddog wrote:

Original Quill wrote:

It's a poignant narrative about the myths that southerners are inculcated with when raised in the south.  And how, even when they move north, they carry that same racist zeitgeist with them.

Remember when you and Ben were questioning, how can a Minneapolis cop be racist?  Here's the answer.

Remember when you had no idea where any of these cops were raised,  and just made it all up. ?

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:

Remember when you had no idea where any of these cops were raised,  and just made it all up. ?

The statistics are published, and a matter of record.

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

eddie wrote:What is this thread about, exactly? Is it a private cock fight between the two of you, or can anyone join in?

eddie wrote:

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

Exactly. An opinion is not a lie.

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

Maddog wrote:

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

Correct, to a degree.

If someone states that Eskimos are less intelligent because they have done the research to prove it, they are in fact lying. There is no research confirming that.  

Maddog wrote:

eddie wrote:

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

Exactly. An opinion is not a lie.

No, they are not. But you can't have an opinion that the moon is made of cheese.

eddie wrote:

Maddog wrote:

eddie wrote:

Ben Reilly wrote:Just wanted to make one little point, and that's if someone believes what they're saying, they're not lying. They may or may not be wrong, but a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive.

Exactly. An opinion is not a lie.

No, they are not. But you can't have an opinion that the moon is made of cheese.

Yes you can. You can have an opinion on whatever you choose.
Unless you’ve taken a bite of the moon, you won’t know for sure, will you?

Maddog wrote:

eddie wrote:

Exactly. An opinion is not a lie.

No, they are not. But you can't have an opinion that the moon is made of cheese.

Ben Reilly wrote:

eddie wrote:

Yes you can. You can have an opinion on whatever you choose.
Unless you’ve taken a bite of the moon, you won’t know for sure, will you?

You can indeed have an opinion on anything. Whether you can support it or not is another story -- then, we're getting into the difference between supportable and unsupportable opinions.

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:

No, they are not. But you can't have an opinion that the moon is made of cheese.

Nonsense.  RW'ers do it all they time.  They deny climate change.  And they deny that Covid-19 is a real disease.

Maddog wrote:

Original Quill wrote:

Nonsense.  RW'ers do it all they time.  They deny climate change.  And they deny that Covid-19 is a real disease.

I dont.

Maddog wrote:

Original Quill wrote:

Nonsense.  RW'ers do it all they time.  They deny climate change.  And they deny that Covid-19 is a real disease.

I dont.

So you support ignoring scientific consensus?

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:

I dont.

Yes you do. We see it all the time.

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:

I dont.

Yes you do.  We see it all the time.  

Maddog wrote:

Original Quill wrote:

Yes you do.  We see it all the time.  

The climate is changing and I know covid is a real disease.  

And who is "we"?

Maddog wrote:I dont.

Original Quill wrote:

Maddog wrote:

The climate is changing and I know covid is a real disease.  

And who is "we"?

You just contradicted yourself.  The assertion was, RW'ers deny both climate change and covid.  You're answer:

Maddog wrote:I dont.

Either you are admitting to being a LW'er, or you do.

Maddog wrote:

Original Quill wrote:

You just contradicted yourself.  The assertion was, RW'ers deny both climate change and covid.  You're answer:



Either you are admitting to being a LW'er, or you do.

I dont deny climate change or covid being real.