A Recent Personal Realization

I probably shouldn't post this, as it will be a bit revelatory and I'm still looking for a job.

But I'm not exactly the type to let that stop me from exploring myself, now am I?  I suppose I'll just have to be sure to keep posting regularly for a while, and hope to bury this little 'vulnerability' episode deep enough in the archived posts that no prospective employer takes the time to get to it.

Of course, I'll need to change the title...

Eh.

So I've realized recently that I've always been a lot like that kid in The Emperor's New Clothes, or at least I've always relished that role whenever it came my way.

That's not much of a realization, in and of itself, obviously--"hey, I look like my mom!"--no, the thing I thought was worth writing about on it is the further realization that, while that kid is brilliant, and honest, and sees keenly, and just has that thing, that indescribable way of doing things that doesn't even reflect in an IQ test, and all of that, that kid is also just a little fucking annoying.

Not least to the Emperor, who, let's not forget, is something of a non-conformist, (fashion-, at least) forward-thinking radical himself.

And here's the thing, often as not, its that kid that gets run out of town, not the emperor, or at the very least, the kid has to go too, because he reminds the people of their embarrassment, whether he talks about it or not.

Socrates (another reflection-of-self I've seen lately) dies, in the end, let's not forget. Sure, he's remembered forever, and his lesson about pure democracy led to the (slightly) more robust Latin republic, etc., etc., etc. But Socrates is fucking DEAD, man, he's seeing none of it.

So the little boy has to grow up, he's got to learn to pick his poisons (had to), learn to ask questions instead of just knowing the answer, but most of all, I think, he's got to be more vulnerable, oddly. This is because when your biggest risk is the crowd, its best to give its members a little blood in advance, one at a time, to satisfy them you can be wrong about something smaller than the epic things your dreamy, sea-monster brain (rising out of nowhere, lashing out inexplicably here or there, overpowering all local forces before dissipating into an harmless-looking, invertebrate blob, floating on the horizon) is usually concerned with.

In other words, when you seem untouchable, people inevitably start to think about how to take you down.

Wait.  I'm not going to delete the previous five lines, because there's something in there, too, but I've had another thought.

That kid, in some ways, is the real tyrant.  The people, don't forget, are happy.  They like their emperor, even if they can see his balls flopping about under those invisible clothes he wears.  Hell, they may even have started having mainstream fashion conversations about scrotal piercings and other cosmetic opportunities now available under the new clothes.

Yes, he represents a tyranny of the mind, of the real, that the people don't want to hear.  That they might need to hear it, before they all spend their money on fabric no one will buy in any other town, doesn't change the fact that they are unwilling thinkers.

So maybe blood sacrifice isn't the answer, huh?  How does the metaphor translate if the solution is bloodsport?

How do you make it fun to face the illusions you've built up in your mind because they seemed easier than dealing with the truth (which I suppose, metaphorically, must have been a shortage of fabric)?

I suppose this is easy, right?  Methods that have been tested time and again, to the point that even ethical distinctions are well understood.

Start by isolating one of the crowd.  Quickly and effectively otherize them.  Mock them about what the entire crowd is doing stupidly.  Never acknowledge that the rest of the crowd is doing the same thing.

"Hey, look everybody!  The village idiot thinks the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes!  He doesn't understand that he's just naked, pretending to wear clothes!  What an idiot, right?!?"

For ethical application, attempt to choose someone with the moral strength to laugh at themselves, otherize them with something endearing rather than embarrassing, and perhaps include self in the otherization, to the continuing exclusion of the crowd.  If ethical application seems impossible, at least try to choose someone who deserves it.

"Oh my god, everybody, I need your help!  You know senile old granny, she's 'round the bend again, thinks that the Emperor's really wearing invisible clothes!  Help me explain to her.  Oh granny, you're so silly, I almost thought you were right for a second, I could have sworn I saw the light shimmer off it as he danced, but then I realized they all been having a joke on us, he's just naked and they're pretending he's wearing beautiful clothes.  Granny, granny, granny, they almost had us, didn't they?"