Valery Legasov: What is the cost of lies? It’s not that we’ll mistake them for the truth. The real danger is that if we hear enough lies, then we no longer recognize the truth at all. What can we do then? What else is left but to abandon even the hope of truth and content ourselves instead with stories? In these stories, it doesn’t matter who the heroes are. All we want to know is: “Who is to blame?” -HBO, Chernobyl 

Before I left for my Disney World trip, I stopped at my local Texas Roadhouse for dinner, and was given an envelope with a coupon of some sort inside. But I was not to open it until their anniversary guest appreciation week, and then it could only be opened by a authorised staff member. Okay…this is some sort of promotion to get people into the restaurant that week, thinks I.  But it did its work, although I’d likely have gone there anyway. I go there regularly because I like the food and the margaritas and it’s not very expensive. But that may be changing.

It is the last possible day to go to Texas Roadhouse and have staff there open the mystery envelope. I get a coupon for ten bucks off a meal, and order their top shelf margarita and ribs. I sit at one end of the U shaped bar where I usually do. This is so I’m not squeezed between other people at the bar. To my left are some folks the bartender seems to know because they’re chatting easily about this and that. 

Eventually someone who I think is a floor manager walks over and asks how I’m doing. This happens regularly at this restaurant so I’m pretty sure it’s not about me or any of my Facebook check-ins here. As always I give her a thumbs up. The food is good, and while I am not a country-western or sports bar kind of guy there’s at least one big screen TV here showing an Atmospheres stream I can glance at. Satisfied, she walks around to the folks to my left and starts chatting with them, with the bartender joining in. Now I’m thinking they’re not just regulars but either personal friends or current or former employees.

They talk with the bartender about a rude customer who would not take no for an answer when he asked her if she’d be up for a date. I almost join in. It’s one thing to gawk at a beautiful face, and I’ve done my share of that, but it’s another to hit on someone whose job it is to be nice to you. But I stay out of it. Then the conversation turns to the recent hurricanes. 

You realize that, at a country-western kind of place, you are going to encounter some percentage of MAGA nutcases, or a best Fox News junkies, even here in mostly sane central Maryland. I can accept that so long as I don’t have to listen to it, and the food and margaritas are good. But there’s an election coming, the drums are beating, and the Fox News/MAGA lies are swarming like locusts. 

As soon as the conversation turns to the hurricanes they start yapping the flavor of the day lies about how Biden and Harris aren’t doing anything for the storm damaged communities, and that FEMA is actively slowing down and/or preventing local relief efforts. This last especially makes me angry, almost instantly livid, because so many dedicated government workers and local national guard troops are doing what they do in difficult and often dangerous conditions to get help to these communities. They are heroes. The Biden administration has set aside millions to hurricane relief, while the religious fanatic who is our current speaker of the House is refusing to call the House back into session to address hurricane relief…a thing that was commonplace once upon a time. And Every Florida Republican In The House voted against giving the afflicted states relief money. Then complained that the feds were withholding relief money!

It is despicable how Trump and Vance are lying about it. And not just to score points, but more insidiously to maintain the Reagan fiction that “The most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the government and I’m here to help”.

Because among white supremacists and the ultra rich, a government that works for all of us cannot be allowed to stand.

So I’m getting angry hearing this crap about Biden and Harris and FEMA, and I reckon it’s starting to show in my face. The floor manager walks around to my end of the bar again and says something about hurricane relief. I give her the Sam Elliot stare…the one dad could and his two sons can suddenly flash when we’re really pissed off. And I get off a couple sentences about how FEMA is doing its best down there and it’s dispicable how so many decent government workers are being lied about. And she instantly pivots to what she probably thinks is some sort of customer neutral ground, because after all this is a hospitality business.

She says, apologetically, that people will believe any bad thing they want to believe and isn’t it a shame. I suppose the look on my face told her not to press it further.

To my left I begin hearing about sleepy Joe and lying Kamila. My dinner is just barely half finished. My margarita only about a quarter done. I ask for my check. The bartender looks surprised. She asks me if I want a box. Somewhat emphatically I say no.

I leave my usual 20 percent tip. Never blame the bartender for the conversation at the bar.

People will believe any bad thing they want to believe…

What is the cost of lies…