Hans Christian Anderson’s tale about the emperor parading around naked because his minions were afraid to tell him he had no clothes on is playing out again, this time in Washington D.C.
In the original story, written for children but aimed at adults, the emperor wants the finest clothes to show off his wealth, power, and body beautiful, as well as stroking his ego. The tailor, running out of silks (China) and ermine fur (Canada), decided to pretend to sew the emperor new clothes, each time reducing the actual clothing until one day the emperor paraded himself down the street with a perfect fit – no clothes at all.
The people of his Court proclaimed the suit of clothes to be absolutely beautiful, a wonderful thing, phrases the emperor liked to use, because the court pandered to him, wanting to be in his favour to gain more wealth and selfies. Not in the court of public opinion because a little boy, not understanding the adult world, boldly proclaimed that the emperor was naked.
This was embarrassing, not only to the emperor but to all those who had told the man he was properly and decently clothed. Even his full-length mirror, which he called Elon, had been lying to him.
H C Anderson could have had a field day with the present US President, no matter where he goes, no matter where Air Force One touches down because the people proclaim the emperor has the finest clothes. Beautifully tailored, all made in America, except his ManMades, which the boys like. And he does have some decent suits, not as well-tailored as his wife’s, but still. Okay, his people do not mention his clothes so much, but they display fealty to his thinking, his brilliant mind, and his plans to make America Great Again by wearing his hats which he sells to them like a snake-oil hustler at rallies.
Come to think of it, this is more a Brothers Grimm tale that is going on in the White House next door.
The truth is that he believes all the crap that comes out of his mouth, because the likes of Musk, Bezos, and Zucky, his personal tailors, are telling him what he wants, needs, to hear. Not only does he believe in that Manifest Destiny crap, but he thinks he has some kind of Divine Right because the bullet missed. But this emperor has no clothes. He is as naked as a jaybird.
However, the emperor, himself a felon, has cleverly surrounded himself with a hand-picked executive, secretaries of this and that, who are equally poorly attired. They too have been dressed by his tailors, tutored to say that the emperor has nice clothes, clap, clap, repeating his words as if writ boldly on stone. That trophy press secretary even embellishes the emperor’s words!
Sadly, for one must pity the son-of-a-gun, because his minions will one day realize what the neighbours, peaking over those steel fences, have been right – he is naked.
Not that we do not have little emperors here too. But here in the great frozen north, his minions have undressed our little Napoleon, laying him bare right down to his colourful socks (nice abs, Justy) and exposed him for what he is trying to be. His buddy who was supporting him, has now called him out as being undressed; whereas the other one-line guy has been shown up, sans clothes, when the emperor’s former friends have now promised to axe the tax once the real emperor down south puts his clothes back on.
Mini emperor Duggy does not look that appealing without his spa suit into which he has sewn a Captain Canada label to the lining of the jacket. He stabbed his thumb with the sewing needle whilst stitching and went to the Emerge, but the lineup was so long he just sucked his thumb and went home via the 407 which will soon be renamed the Ford Expressway. The people in the ER waiting room all cheered when they saw him, thanking him for the $200, except for one fellow who had his cheque bounce.
So what to do until the Americans tell their emperor that he is naked?
We can kick him (them) in the shins, or throw dirt on their shoes, but really, we are in a lose-lose situation. Suck it up, buttercup; play nice in our own inter-provincial snowbox.
And let us be clear: in my opinion, this is not a trade war, it is about ‘annexing’ Canada. Without firing a gunshot – this is after all 2025 - the Year of the Snake.
And by the by, Emperor, it’s your job to keep people and drugs OUT of your country – not ours. Also, it was our CF-18 that chased that Bear bomber back home to Putin the other day. Why don’t you tariff him – or do you two already have a deal? Just asking.
God Help America. And us.
