— Shedding Guilt Over a False Alternatives

Our world is awash in a sea of lies. I could spend all day listing them.

… Yes, lies honest people either believe in ignorance, or disbelieve in sobriety, but love nonetheless.

My purpose is to help readers see things for what they truly are, in a world awash with lies and deception. As I previously mentioned, we are often presented with only two options for survival—two lifeboats, if you will. This is what I refer to as the false dichotomy that plagues our society. Stories and narratives are frequently framed in a way that forces an unnecessary antagonism. In simple terms, you are given the choice to either suspend your disbelief and accept a lie wholeheartedly or to recognize it as an outright lie devoid of any redeeming qualities. In many instances, this is a misleading binary, but it is those who peddle these polarizing views on either side who stand to profit.

What I am striving to do is to avoid presenting you with these same misleading choices. For example, from the perspective of someone on the political right, all the stories, narratives, slogans, bromides, and memes of the left might be dismissed as completely false, devoid of any value. Conversely, if I were approaching from the left, I would argue the same about the right. Both stances are incorrect. A useful principle to remember is that when a lot of people appreciate something, there must be some inherent value to it; otherwise, they wouldn’t engage with it. Normal people do not find enjoyment in a steaming pile of shit, for instance. On the flip side, common courtesies like “Have a nice day” or “How was your day?” can also be insincere, yet we recognize the value in these social niceties.

More profound examples include children’s fairytales. Technically, they are lies, but we acknowledge the value in them. Fairytales often impart important lessons or are simply enjoyable, like the jolly myth of Santa Claus: “Ho, ho, ho!” If I could offer one piece of advice, it would be to identify areas of conflict within yourself—situations where you know something may not be entirely truthful, yet you appreciate it regardless. This internal contradiction can lead to cognitive dissonance.

Allow me to illustrate this with a couple of examples. Once you understand them, you’ll see why I chose the header image for this post. This is an exploration that I reserve for our members.

To illustrate the point I’m addressing, let’s discuss what some might quibble with when I refer to them as “lies.” I use the term “the lies we live under” rather loosely, I admit. In some instances, these are lies of omission, and in others, lies of commission, or the deliberate crafting of a false impression about the nature of something that isn’t entirely accurate.

I tend to believe, or rather hold, that lies are an evasion of reality. There must be a concerted effort to sidestep the unvarnished truth. Yet, even this evasion isn’t necessarily wholly nefarious. The quintessential example is the domain of children’s fairy tales. Not only do they often impart valuable moral lessons in a manner accessible to youngsters, but they also protect them from the starkness of reality while they are still impressionable, allowing them to concentrate on essential developmental milestones. These milestones prepare them to confront harsh realities when they are ready. What I’m suggesting is that there’s often nuance to these so-called ‘evasions of reality.’ Just as lies can be wielded to manipulate, deceive, induce guilt, shame, and exert control, they can also be employed compassionately to assist someone in need. Therefore, lies can introduce nuance into certain situations, and lies themselves can be nuanced.

This perspective is quite divergent from the oversimplified views prevalent in much of society. On one hand, you have those who point fingers, decrying everything as a web of lies, compelling you to take a stand because you can’t abide by the falsehoods. Conversely, the other side does the exact opposite. Each faction, by doing so, unjustly implies their own purity—that they are beyond reproach, that they aren’t also engaging in deceit. Ironically, they employ lies, half-truths, and platitudes to propagate the notion that all lies are inherently malevolent. It’s all part of the grand charade.

The game is afoot. An easy trick to cut through the fog of deceit. To evaluate things—specifically lies—and the character of those spewing them from either side of the fence. Here’s the litmus test: who’s the net value producer, and who’s the net value destroyer?

Value. What is it? Simple. It’s what someone strives to gain or retain. We have objective values—food, water, shelter. Then there are subjective whims—chocolate or vanilla, or even the guilty pleasure of a Nickelback tune. But here’s the rub: net producers of both objective and subjective values aren’t strong-arming you. There’s no coercion. They’re making you an offer. Take it or leave it.

Now, nobody in their right mind wants their values—what they treasure—obliterated. Therefore, any such destruction is rooted in force, fraud, deception, manipulation. A smorgasbord of lies backed by an army of cuckolds, simps, fanboys, soy boys, punks, cunts, those lacking in testosterone and IQ. Human detritus. These are their loyal henchmen, their sycophants, water boys, parasites clinging for dear life. They claw for status in their pitiful existences, and in return for their blind allegiance, they’re tossed scraps of unearned status and prestige—achievements they couldn’t possibly secure on their own merit. Think the president of Harvard University, and you’re on the right track.

So, there you have it. The truth is a hard pill to swallow. But here at FreeTheAnimal.com, we don’t sugarcoat. We don’t pander. We tell it like it is. Keep your eyes peeled and your wits about you. The value producers are out there. And so are the destroyers. Know the difference. Your life depends on it.

… Last night. There I was, ensconced in the USSA—yeah, that’s no typo—watching a documentary with dad and a couple of brothers. On screen, the clash of titans: McDonald’s versus Burger King. The giant and the wannabe. Then my brother, bless his inight, blurts out a gem: “McDonald’s isn’t a fast food company.”

Nope.

I retorted, “It’s a real estate empire.” A beat. “Just like the Catholic Church.” Cue the header image. Midjourney’s tongue-in-cheek masterpiece—a McDonald’s squatting in Saint Peter’s Square. Get it?

The golden arches don’t just sling burgers; they own the very dirt their fries fall on. Franchise fees? Supply chain profits? That’s chump change next to the leases on the land and buildings they lord over. McDonald’s might even hold the deed to the ground beneath a skyscraper’s shadow, collecting rent like Monopoly moguls.

Here’s the kicker: McDonald’s never shouts from the rooftops, “Hey, we’re realty tycoons!” But for those with more than two brain cells to rub together, it’s a revelation. Does Joe Public suffer from this omission? Hardly. But for the aspiring moguls, the knowledge is gold. Contracts. Leases. Depreciation. These are the tools of the trade.

Take Mr. Coffee. A coffee maker? Please. It was a Trojan horse, a vessel to sell you endless paper filters. That’s where the money was—not in the hardware, but in the disposables. Now, of course, that ship has sailed; generic filters reign supreme, and you have endless competition over home coffee machines from cheap plastic, aluminum cutouts, and some wires…to stainless steel and copper pressure-vessel contraptions that would make the best minimum-wage barista on earth green with envy.

Now, let’s pivot to the Holy See. The Roman Catholic Church. The spiritual blah blah. The God and Mother Mary white noise. Strip away the veneer and what do you have? The ultimate real estate titan. Some 177 million acres globally. Prime locations, tax exemptions—the works.

Yes, the Church peddles in faith, hope, and charity. It caters to the heart, the soul, the family. It’s not all hollow echoes in hallowed halls. But let’s not kid ourselves. Imaginary friends and adult fairy tales are the wrapping paper on a very tangible asset portfolio.

So what’s the takeaway? The truth behind the facade isn’t always detrimental. The Church’s “lies” serve a purpose—even a skeptic can’t deny the nuanced value. And by grasping the structural truths beneath the spiritual storefront, we gain insights, strategies, and a deeper understanding that transcends religion.

In the end, some illusions are indeed more valuable than others. Know them. Use them. Just don’t be fooled by them.