There once was an Emperor with a very short temper who focused his attention on clothes. As his closet did grow, it seemed as though he cared not of the council he imposed. With a frown, he said, "My clothes are outdated and I have not made it this far to be so indisposed as to wear them." As his office passed laws with no true justness or cause, the Emperor's only concern was the flare of his hem. "I know! I'll drain my swamp closet!" It so happened that two weavers, who had the gold kind of fever, were passing through this story's town. And so it transpired they were destined to acquire the riches of the Emperor and his crown. They came with a fable so false and unstable that only a fool would believe them. But as they told it, and nailed it, and sold it, the Emperor thought, "Wonderful, I'll receive them! What marvelous outfits they'll make!" They told of the splendor they'd conjure, they'd mend his old closet to look good as new! And the Emperor thought, "With all the money I've got I can make their demands come true!" So they made up a deal where the weavers would steal opportunity from the ruler's foolishness. They promised him fabric that was enchanted by magic and was sure to appear quite luminous. "Pray tell of this fabric you carry!" "Well," said the weavers, "all those who perceive this fabric will have their true intellect revealed. For these patterns of gold do not look quite as bold to those who have no expertise in their field. This way you'll know upon whom to bestow the great responsibilities of office. You can weed out the liars, the cheats, and the briers and in the meantime add quality to your closet." The Emperor could see no fabric at all! Now we how the story of the Emperor and his glory is usually known to have ended. But the fable you once knew can have a new view that I think would in fact be quite splendid. In my version the Emperor sees through all of the lies and realizes how little his clothes mean. He sorts through his houses and gets rid of his blouses and trousers and jewelry and rings. "These things only distract me from my duties to my empire!" Soon after he banished the weavers to live in famish and sorrow and pain, and he never spoke again of the gold and the friends but instead lived his life to be plain. He deleted his Twitter and changed all the bitter, made people like him understand. And his lifted his tiny, itty, bitty, baby hands and said, "I'll make this town great once again!" And he meant it.