August 7th, 2007

So you know the story of The Emperor's New Clothes, right?

In brief: There was an emperor who was very concerned about his clothing; he liked only the finest and best to wear. One day he was conned by a man into believing there were clothes very beautiful to look at, but invisible to fools. He sent two men to investigate and they returned reporting that the clothes were indeed beautiful (neither wanted to admit that they couldn't see them because they didn't want to be exposed as fools). So, though he couldn't see them himself, the emperor acquired these "clothes" and paraded through the town "wearing" them. Everyone in town pretended to see and admire his new clothes, since nobody wanted to admit that they were fools. But then a small boy called out the famous words, "But he has nothing on!" and word of this passed quietly from person to person, though the emperor nonetheless finished his parade.

What a nice story; the emperor looked so foolish, didn't he? And it serves him right. Thanks, Hans Christian Andersen, you showed us the truth.

But there's more to this story:

Later, after the parade had finished, the boy tried to talk about it with his parents at the dinner table:

"Wow, the emperor sure looked stupid today, didn't he?"

"Ssssh!" his mother said.

"That kind of talk can get you in a heap of trouble, young man," his father added, wagging his spoon at the boy.

"But he was na-"

"Quiet!"

"But-"

"Enough! Go to your room, and don't come out until you can apologise for ... making up such nonsense."

And, dejectedly, the boy retreated to his own little corner of the world, confused and alarmed by his parents' response. He plunked himself down upon his bed and thought about it: Maybe it was true, and perhaps there were such things as clothes that were invisible to fools after all ... ? But, no, it couldn't be! If one ignored the weird response by his parents, it made much more sense that the emperor was naked and duped by that con man. It was much more sensible to realise that everyone was made to look foolish than to believe such bizarre clothing could exist.

At school the next day, during Show and Tell, when it came time for the boy to speak, he decided to try the idea out again:

"Today for Show and Tell, I have something to tell. Yesterday when I saw the emperor, he was naked. Didn't you all see it too?

There were gasps from the girls and giggles from the boys.

But the teacher was not pleased: "Enough! Meet me after class, I want a word with you."

"But he had nothing on!"

"That's it!" the teacher snapped. "Principal's office. Now!"

Stinging, the boy accompanied his teacher to the principal's office and sat down outside the door. Shortly, after a brief conference between the boy's teacher and the principal, he was called in and told this:

"We've decided that you should be allowed to take back what you say and apologise for your words. We would be willing to overlook any further punishment if you simply went home and wrote a 500 word essay explaining how beautiful the emperor's new clothes were. Um ... describe them in detail, perhaps. That is all."

And the boy finished school that day thinking about the principal's words and wondering what he could possibly write about something that didn't exist. But by the time he got home he decided to just make anything at all up and write it into his essay. He decided to gamble that the principal wouldn't read the essay anyhow. And he must have been right, because after he handed in the essay he heard nothing more about it.

And there things might have stayed, except that a feeling started growing in him that either there was something seriously wrong with him (and he seemed so rational to himself) or there was something wrong with everyone else. If he didn't come to some conclusion he would surely go crazy.

Then, he had an idea: If his parents and teachers refused to let him talk about it, maybe the mayor would understand. So he got up and went to his homework desk. He pulled out a clean piece of paper and wrote this letter:

Dear Mr. Mayor,

The other day at the emperor's parade, the emperor was naked. Surely you must have noticed this.

My parents are in complete denial about it, and my school punishes me for trying to talk about it ... but I'm sure I'm not wrong, and so I thought I should appeal to your great wisdom on these matters.

We weren't fools for not seeing his clothes, but we were fools for pretending we could. And the emperor looked none too smart when he went parading around in the buff, too.

So shouldn't we find that con man and punish him for making us all look so foolish (your boss, the emperor, included)? I'd be glad to help in any way I can.

Yours &c.

A few days after he quietly posted his letter to the mayor, a messenger arrived at the front door of his house.

"His Right Honourable The Mayor requests the presence of the young master in his office tomorrow morning at eight thirty AM sharp."

The boy's mother fell into a swoon muttering, "No good can come of this. Oh dear me, no ..." and his father started making a sign that said, "Room for rent."

But the boy was excited by this show of pomp and circumstance, and he arrived early to the mayor's office the next morning (but had to wait until nine o'clock before the mayor was "available" to see him).

Ushered in and ordered to stand in front of the mayor's gigantic desk, he opened his mouth to greet the mayor, but wasn't given the opportunity.

"See here, kiddo. A lot of research and money and time went into the emperor's new clothes, and we don't need some kid with a punk attitude stirring up trouble. So do yourself a favour and sign that little note there and drop this nonsense before things get ugly."

The boy looked at the page sitting on the desk in front of him. It was a sworn statement attesting to his seeing the emperor's new clothes "in all their glory" and a retraction of any "unfortunately-worded statements that may have mistakenly given the impression that [he] could not see said clothing". Sitting next to the letter was a packet of what looked like a bundle of money.

"Mr. Mayor, sir ... you want me to swear to something I don't believe?"

The mayor, instead of getting angry, sighed and stood up from his desk and walked around to stand beside the boy. The boy tried not to flinch away from the fact that the mayor was naked—and standing a little too closely for the boy's liking.

"Take a look out that window there," the mayor said to the boy. "Do you see those peasants with torches and pitchforks?"

The boy looked through the window and saw them standing there. On some sort of cue their faces, which had previously been neutral, suddenly twisted into angry expressions and they started chanting. "Kill the heretic! Kill the heretic!"

Startled, the boy asked, "Do ... do they mean me?"

"That's right, kiddo. You. And I'm not inclined to get my hands dirty defending a religious zealot ... well, an anti-religious zealot. It's not part of my mandate, you see."

The boy looked again at the sharp pointy tips of the pitchforks, then looked the mayor up and down.

"Nice clothes, Mr. Mayor."

"They're all the rage."

"Do you have a pen?"

And they all lived happily ever after.

Read more rants - Top Blogs - Comment on this rant - Email me