Nero fiddles, Uncle Claudius’s fiefdom dwindles

Its funny. Everyone is running in circles to save Mirambika; some headless chickens, some scared doves, some doves converted to hawks but the molester of Mirambika sits with no remorse whatsoever in his glasshouse dressed in his new suit of clothes. He can be seen presiding over meetings where he rejects rightful pleas, threatens to mark those present as absent if they hesitate to sign his dictation, and tries to create some fancy record absolving himself. Many courtiers, fearful matrons and some living doormats surround and pat the air around him in adoration as he takes calls from fixers promising to dig this person and rig that process to insulate him from the consequences of his sins. They are succeeding like the weavers who promised an emperor a new suit of clothes that they said would be invisible to those who are unfit for their positions, stupid, or incompetent. When the Emperor steps out of his austere Merc in his new clothes, and heads to the Court, none from his retinue dares to say that they don’t see any suit of clothes on him for fear that they will be seen as “unfit for their positions, stupid, or incompetent”. Finally, an innocent Mirambika child cries out, “But the monster isn’t wearing anything at all!”


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