Can't Help But Lie

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Traiger, did you say no?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I said no.”

“Why are you refusing to take the oath,sir?”

“Because, Your Honor, I am an inveterate liar. I have been all my life. Everyone in my family is a liar. Parents, grandparents, siblings, everyone. If I swear to tell the truth, that in itself would be a lie.”

“You do know, Mr. Traiger, that I can hold you in contempt and put you in jail, don’t you?”

“I do Judge. But you’re asking me to swear to tell the truth, when I know there’s no way I’ll be able to do that. And I’d rather go to jail for contempt than perjury. It makes no sense for me to risk a long prison sentence for perjury when I know for sure I’m going to lie.

“You see, Your Honor, I don’t even know what the truth is anymore. When I’m doing or witnessing something bad, I automatically change what I see in my head, and I keep changing it. That way I don’t get in trouble. With the law, my family, or some really bad people. Even if I really tried to tell the truth, I’d be sure to muddle it up, and simply end up lying.

“So if you want to jail me for contempt, I understand, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Even if you or the state was willing to grant me absolute immunity from perjury, it wouldn’t change the fact that my testimony would be confused, contradictory, or outright fantasy.

“So I simply will not swear to tell the truth. Which, I’m sorry to say, leaves the ball in your court, Your Honor.”