“If he say so, may his pernicious soul/Rot half a grain a day! He lies to the heart.” (Othello)
Half a grain a day
It’s not The Lie that destroys The Liar.
When The Lie is done, it’s done. Out into the world like a paper dart. A deed, given flight.
It’s what’s left behind that’s the problem.
And what’s left is nibbling, gnawing Guilt.
It erodes The Liar, long after The Lie is gone. Half a grain a day. Slowly, creepingly. Like a mould. You can’t see it grow. But when you look again, something’s different.
It starts at the mouth, if The Lie was spoken. Or the hands, if The Lie was written. It nibbles, nibbles. Rots the heart of The Liar bit by bit, like maggots working on a carcass.
And first The Liar tries to remove it. To shrug it off with breezy Self-confidence. To pick it off with Justifications.
But that nibbling, gnawing Guilt never gives up. That pernicious soul is its target. And it seeks obliteration.
So The Liar’s soul gradually disintegrates under the attack. The Liar runs out of Self-confidence. Runs out of Justifications.
The rotten soul, source of The Lie, is weakened, then finally destroyed.
And all that’s left is Guilt.
Just Guilt, squirming in the rotten heart.
Powerfully disturbing animation – but in a good way – makes you think; move back and forth between it and the writing.