The Emperor's New Clothes, continued
Author's note: I may be plagiarizing the following story. I cannot remember where, or even if, I have heard it before. If you remember, please let me know so I can share the original and credit the author.
"Why, the Emperor is naked!" The little boy shouted, suddenly.
The crowd grew silent. Then a voice spoke out.
"Whoa. Edgy bro. Gonna cut myself on all that edge."
A woman wrung her hands and took the boy aside, "You know, believing that the Emperor has the finest clothes in all the land is a very important part of social and political cohesion in this country. It's very offensive to just blurt things like that out, when the Emperor's clothes are so important to so many people."
"Three of the best fashion designers in the realm have said that his clothes are the finest in all the land," Said a man, "I think they know a lot more about fashion than you or I. Maybe you should be a little more humble instead of thinking you know better than the experts."
A philosopher, kinder than the others, stroked his beard. "I understand why you said that, child, but that is the naiveté of childhood speaking. Yes, it is true that the physical accidents of the Emperor's clothes are identical to those of nudity, but of course, that is not at all what we are talking about when we praise his clothes. His clothes are spiritually the finest in the land. As you grow older and wiser, you will begin to understand the difference."
Another philosopher said, "This is the spiritual fallenness of man. The majesty of the Emperor's clothes is obvious, but we rebel from it psychologically. We feel that if his clothes were so very fine, ours would look shabby indeed. And so we feel an anger at his clothes, we are moved to deny them so that we can ignore how shabby our own clothes are."
It was cold and rainy that day, and the Emperor spent eight hours greeting and speaking to the people.
He caught a fever and died a week later.
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