The ‘Emperors New Clothes’ retold

Below is a transcript from the July 28th “WTF is on my Mind?!” podcast.

Hello! I hope everyone is doing great in these insane and turbulent times. Before I launch into this episode I want to ask you to please like & subscribe to this podcast. If you’re on podcast platforms please give me a rating - and a good review is ALWAYS helpful.

So - here we are in July 2024. What a circus!

At a time like this, it’s definitely worth re-reading Hans Christian Andersen’s story: ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’.

There are so many important lessons ‘woven’ into that story. It illustrates Cognitive Dissonance, Cultic Behaviour, Gaslighting, Mass Delusion and Sunk Cost Fallacy.

And while that story was written in the 1800’s it’s a universal and timeless warning. All these strategies and foibles are being played out today in our modern world.

I like talking about global events using metaphors and patterns because it doesn’t activate people’s tribal triggers.

Many people have asked me to comment on particular political figures and I understand the impulse but it’s not that helpful when looking through the lens of cultic behavior.

For those of you who know my story, you may remember that my wife consulted with a cult deprogrammer to figure out how to help me. She was advised to never talk specifically about the leader and never attack him. That would have dug me in deeper.

Instead, she talked about the patterns and showed me examples of the behaviors in other contexts. Other cultic groups, Movies, TV Shows and articles about spiritual Narcissism. One day it finally clicked.

So in that spirit, I want to read you my version of ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’. It starts quite normally but then I take it in another direction. Here goes:

Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of new clothes that he spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared nothing about reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a ride in his carriage, except to show off his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day, and instead of saying, as one might, about any other ruler, "The King's in council," here they always said. "The Emperor's in his dressing room."

In the great city where he lived, life was always gay. Every day many strangers came to town, and among them one day came two swindlers. They let it be known they were weavers, and they said they could weave the most magnificent fabrics imaginable. Not only were their colors and patterns uncommonly fine, but clothes made of this cloth had a wonderful way of becoming invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office, or who was unusually stupid.

"Those would be just the clothes for me," thought the Emperor. "If I wore them I would be able to discover which men in my empire are unfit for their posts. And I could tell the wise men from the fools. Yes, I certainly must get some of the stuff woven for me right away." He paid the two swindlers a large sum of money to start work at once.

They set up two looms and pretended to weave, though there was nothing on the looms. All the finest silk and the purest old thread which they demanded went into their traveling bags, while they worked the empty looms far into the night.

"I'd like to know how those weavers are getting on with the cloth," the Emperor thought, but he felt slightly uncomfortable when he remembered that those who were unfit for their position would not be able to see the fabric. It couldn't have been that he doubted himself, yet he thought he'd rather send someone else to see how things were going. The whole town knew about the cloth's peculiar power, and all were impatient to find out how stupid their neighbors were.

"I'll send my honest old minister to the weavers," the Emperor decided. "He'll be the best one to tell me how the material looks, for he's a sensible man and no one does his duty better."

So the honest old minister went to the room where the two swindlers sat working away at their empty looms.

"Heaven help me," he thought as his eyes flew wide open, "I can't see anything at all". But he did not say so.

Both the swindlers begged him to be so kind as to come near to approve the excellent pattern, the beautiful colors. They pointed to the empty looms, and the poor old minister stared as hard as he dared. He couldn't see anything, because there was nothing to see. "Heaven have mercy," he thought. "Can it be that I'm a fool? I'd have never guessed it, and not a soul must know. Am I unfit to be the minister? It would never do to let on that I can't see the cloth."

"Don't hesitate to tell us what you think of it," said one of the weavers.

"Oh, it's beautiful -it's enchanting." The old minister peered through his spectacles. "Such a pattern, what colors!" I'll be sure to tell the Emperor how delighted I am with it."

"We're pleased to hear that," the swindlers said. They proceeded to name all the colors and to explain the intricate pattern. The old minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to the Emperor. And so he did.

The swindlers at once asked for more money, more silk and gold thread, to get on with the weaving. But it all went into their pockets. Not a thread went into the looms, though they worked at their weaving as hard as ever.

The Emperor presently sent another trustworthy official to see how the work progressed and how soon it would be ready. The same thing happened to him that had happened to the minister. He looked and he looked, but as there was nothing to see in the looms he couldn't see anything.

"Isn't it a beautiful piece of goods?" the swindlers asked him, as they displayed and described their imaginary pattern.

"I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must be that I'm unworthy of my good office. That's strange. I mustn't let anyone find it out, though." So he praised the material he did not see. He declared he was delighted with the beautiful colors and the exquisite pattern. To the Emperor he said, "It held me spellbound."

All the town was talking of this splendid cloth, and the Emperor wanted to see it for himself while it was still in the looms. Attended by a band of chosen men, among whom were his two old trusted officials-the ones who had been to the weavers-he set out to see the two swindlers. He found them weaving with might and main, but without a thread in their looms.

"Magnificent," said the two officials already duped. "Just look, Your Majesty, what colors! What a design!" They pointed to the empty looms, each supposing that the others could see the stuff.

"What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything. This is terrible!

Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor? What a thing to happen to me of all people! - Oh! It's very pretty," he said. "It has my highest approval." And he nodded approbation at the empty loom. Nothing could make him say that he couldn't see anything.

His whole retinue stared and stared. One saw no more than another, but they all joined the Emperor in exclaiming, "Oh! It's very pretty," and they advised him to wear clothes made of this wonderful cloth especially for the great procession he was soon to lead. "Magnificent! Excellent! Unsurpassed!" were bandied from mouth to mouth, and everyone did his best to seem well pleased. The Emperor gave each of the swindlers a cross to wear in his buttonhole, and the title of "Sir Weaver."

Before the procession the swindlers sat up all night and burned more than six candles, to show how busy they were finishing the Emperor's new clothes. They pretended to take the cloth off the loom. They made cuts in the air with huge scissors. And at last they said, "Now the Emperor's new clothes are ready for him."

Then the Emperor himself came with his noblest noblemen, and the swindlers each raised an arm as if they were holding something. They said, "These are the trousers, here's the coat, and this is the mantle," naming each garment. "All of them are as light as a spider web. One would almost think he had nothing on, but that's what makes them so fine."

"Exactly," all the noblemen agreed, though they could see nothing, for there was nothing to see.

"If Your Imperial Majesty will condescend to take your clothes off," said the swindlers, "we will help you on with your new ones here in front of the long mirror."

The Emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put his new clothes on him, one garment after another. They took him around the waist and seemed to be fastening something - that was his train-as the Emperor turned round and round before the looking glass.

"How well Your Majesty's new clothes look. Aren't they becoming!" He heard on all sides, "That pattern, so perfect! Those colors, so suitable! It is a magnificent outfit."

Then the minister of public processions announced: "Your Majesty's canopy is waiting outside."

"Well, I'm supposed to be ready," the Emperor said, and turned again for one last look in the mirror. "It is a remarkable fit, isn't it?" He seemed to regard his costume with the greatest interest.

The noblemen who were to carry his train stooped low and reached for the floor as if they were picking up his mantle. Then they pretended to lift and hold it high. They didn't dare admit they had nothing to hold.

So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy. Everyone in the streets and the windows said, "Oh, how fine are the Emperor's new clothes! Don't they fit him to perfection? And see his long train!" Nobody would confess that he couldn't see anything, for that would prove him either unfit for his position, or a fool. No costume the Emperor had worn before was ever such a complete success.

"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said.

This is where my story will divert. But before I go there, let me read the original ending.

"Did you ever hear such innocent prattle?" said its father. And one person whispered to another what the child had said, "He hasn't anything on. A child says he hasn't anything on."

"But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at last.

The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. But he thought, "This procession has got to go on." So he walked more proudly than ever, as his noblemen held high the train that wasn't there at all.

Now - my retelling goes in a different direction.

As the emperor paraded through the streets, basking in the admiration of his subjects, a small voice rang out. "But he isn't wearing any clothes!" cried a child from the crowd. The people around the child gasped, not because of the revelation, but because of the audacity to question the emperor's splendor.

The emperor halted, and a murmur spread through the crowd. The royal advisors exchanged nervous glances before one of them stepped forward, addressing the crowd with a stern expression. "This child speaks falsehoods!" he declared. "He is a disruptive influence, spreading lies and truth denial to undermine the emperor's authority."

The child was quickly whisked away by his parents, but the damage was done. The emperor's chief advisor convened an emergency meeting, and it was decided that the boy would be labeled an enemy of the state. The next day, posters were plastered in the town, depicting the boy's face with captions like "Liar," "Traitor," and "Truth Denier." The smear campaign was relentless, painting the boy as a dangerous threat to society.

Rumors spread like wildfire. Stories about the boy's supposed misdeeds and ill intentions filled the air. The neighbors, eager to curry favor with the authorities, reported him with absolute glee. They pointed out his house and provided detailed descriptions of his family, ensuring the boy could not escape the emperor's wrath.

That night under the cover of darkness, guards stormed the boy’s home. They dragged him from his bed as his parents pleaded for mercy. The child was taken away in chains, and branded as a criminal for his "sins" of speaking the truth.

The royal decree labeled him a threat to the empire's stability, and he was condemned to the dungeons, where he was kept isolated. The people, now fearful of being accused of disloyalty, clapped and cheered even louder during the emperor's next procession, though their hearts were heavy.

Whispers of dissent were swiftly silenced, and those who questioned anything about the emperor's new clothes were labeled traitors and truth deniers. The boy’s face remained on posters throughout the town as a grim reminder of the cost of dissent. The authorities issued a chilling warning: anyone who dared mention that the emperor was naked would be imprisoned alongside the boy.

The emperor continued to don invisible garments, and the weavers who had deceived him were hailed as geniuses. Fearful of the fate that befell the child, the citizens praised the emperor's non-existent clothes, their voices a chorus of enforced admiration.

The boy, now a young man, remained in his cell, a forgotten prisoner of truth. He held onto the hope that one day, someone brave enough would stand up against the charade. But for now, the emperor's deception ruled, unchallenged, in a kingdom where the truth was silenced, and the price of honesty was imprisonment.

That’s my alternate ending. I’d like to hear what commonalities to current events you see in this story? I’ll post the transcript on my THOUGHTS blog on my website. Leave a comment for me there.

Our present-day society has descended into a kind of madness where this little boy would not be celebrated - but destroyed. It's naïve to think that he would be hailed as a hero. He would not.

People love watching movies about some underdog standing up against power. They love the fictional idea.

But in actuality - based on people’s online behavior, it seems to me that people actually hate the underdog.

We have been successfully reprogrammed. Now, the military-industrial techno-pharma complex uses its media machines to tell you who to hate. Their Electronic Oracle has spoken.

In order for those in control to maintain their control, dissenting voices must be ridiculed and silenced. And to manufacture public consent for such authoritarian behavior towards an innocent, the public has to be terrified of a scary fill-in-the-blank threat.

If you spin the right tale, you can terrify the public in the perfect way. It all boils down to control.

If this little boy lived in the Internet age, all his posts on social media, and on YouTube would have a notice below it, that it was not true, not accurate it would be labeled a FALSEHOOD. The giant technocratic social media companies would have an official notice of what the correct view was.

So, this boy would be demonetized, then censored and finally banned.

His parents would probably no longer be able to work in the town, and their bank accounts might even be frozen. By the state. For the safety of the people.

There would be very effective campaigns created to mobilize the population against anybody who questioned the veracity of whatever narrative the state was spinning. The mob would descend on anybody who had doubts. And pretty soon everybody would be terrified of being labeled with the terms being used against this boy so everybody would fall into line, not only policing themselves, but policing each other.

Nobody wants to be called a TRUTH DENIER.

In our current society - we are trashing the metaphorical child for stating the obvious - and a well-financed smear campaign against any ‘voices of reason’ is being engineered by very powerful financial interests.

Whether this happened hundreds of years ago or today, the pattern is still the same. Societally, we are being coerced and punished into believing we are NOT seeing what we ARE seeing.

I’ve used more generic terms like ‘Truth Denier’ and ‘Falsehoods’ to get past the psychological defenses some people have. What are the modern-day equivalents of these words?

What’s the current term for TRUTH DENIER?

What’s the current term for FALSEHOOD?

Hit me up on social media or the blog about what the current terms are.

Now - there's a small percentage of my audience that's going to get REALLY upset at what I'm saying. They're going to say - “I know what you're doing Vicente. You are being so irresponsible. There are real threats we are facing!!! Mmmm. I would just ask you - which Electronic Oracle told you who to hate and fear?

“Oh my God you're one of them!” you exclaim. "You’re a LABEL LABEL LABEL.” Yes… that must be it. There are only two options. Either I’m a good person like you… or evil. There is no other option.

I’m getting used to it. Remember, to my cult - I am a suppressive.

Examine the outrage that you feel, the anger, the feeling that I need to be extinguished for saying things like this. The sense that I should not be allowed to tell stories like this.

To you - I’m a seditionist, a subversive, an agitator - a HERETIC - and worse - who must be censored.

You might notice the righteousness you feel of knowing you are correct and I am at best - misguided - at worst one of the evil OTHERS - who must be destroyed.

I know this because some of the comments on my episodes are at best, deeply tribal, at worst malevolent and utterly deranged.

So - at the end of July 2024 - I leave you with these thoughts.

Thank you for listening.

And as always… for the love of all that is fucking human. Stay Curious.