The King of Crybabies
The presidential tantrum that ended Donald Trump's interview on "Meet the Press" illustrates America's fragility, cowardice and, most of all, stupidity.
And all the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor’s new clothes!”
In “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” the narcissistic leader of a crumbling empire is conned into buying a custom-made homecoming outfit from a pair of scammers. Intimidated by the egomaniacal authoritarian’s wrath, the entire kingdom pretends that the emperor didn’t show up to the parade in the capital city wearing his birthday suit…
Until a child asks why the emperor is “nekkid” (According to the Blactionary, “nekkid” is a state of undress only exceeded by “buck-booty-bone nekkid”).
For many, Hans Christian Andersen’s story is a parable about “self-deception, conformity, and obedience to authority.” Literary experts claim the classic 1837 folktale illustrates “the importance of authenticity and the courage to speak the truth, regardless of societal expectations.” While some literary revisionists suggest that the emperor and his ministers “fail to recognize the truth that the clothes do not actually exist,” there is one problem with these interpretations.
They are wrong.
Anyone who actually read the story (not the retellings of other people’s retellings) knows there was no “self-deception.” No one deceived themselves into seeing the emperor’s new clothes. The ministers weren’t bamboozled into seeing garments that weren’t there. The parade-goers weren’t afraid of the emperor. On the contrary, they liked him.
In Andersen’s original story (and in the translations), the swindlers finessed the townspeople. By the time the king placed an order with the charlatans, they had already spread the rumor that the designer clothes were “invisible to any man who was unfit for his office or unpardonably stupid.” In fact, the emperor never even met the team of personal stylists. Instead, he sent his messengers and ambassadors to check on his outfit.
The people weren’t afraid of the king. Even though he didn’t care about his soldiers or the theater, according to the story, everyone lived “merrily” under his rule. His ministers didn’t question the counterfeit clothiers because they didn’t want the brilliant king to think they were stupid. The emperor pretended he could see the outfit because everyone else said they could. However, there is a reason the brilliant finesse worked so well.
“In short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes,” Andersen explained. “Because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his office.”
No one was shocked that the emperor had no clothes.
They were shocked that their leader was as dumb and incompetent as they were.
“The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right,” Andersen concluded. “But he thought, ‘the procession must go on now!’
“And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold.”
This story is about America.
Against stupidity we are defenseless. Neither protests nor the use of force accomplish anything here; reasons fall on deaf ears; facts that contradict one’s prejudgment simply need not be believed…when facts are irrefutable, they are just pushed aside as inconsequential, as incidental.
For that reason, greater caution is called for when dealing with a stupid person than with a malicious one. Never again will we try to persuade the stupid person with reasons, for it is senseless and dangerous.
