Mesmerized by fancy socks, puffy words, promises of legalized drugs, and free stuff, one third of a Kingdom was propelled to vote the village idiot in as Emperor. Another group, downtrodden for various reasons, of their own volition or otherwise, propped up this first group, like dancing jesters performing in the castle, hoping for scraps and favours.
A third group, disgruntled, and wanting to be free from the confines of this entire royal confederation holed themselves up behind a pale of their own making, even though they opened the door readily to accept handouts for doing absolutely nothing.
Then there was the sprinkling of supercilious underlings, who jostled for position, with no hope of ever securing elected status, nipping at heels and stealing votes on all sides for their own egos because they flatly refused to get along with any of the others.
Alas, this left the last group, a quiet popular majority, standing outside the castle walls looking in at the chaos. They did not ask for handouts, nor did they dance. They merely desired to work for their own autonomy and self-determination but, none the less, were disliked by all the others.
What a strange rag-tag and disconnected group, for which the Emperor, naked as he was, could not reconcile. “You ask for too much!” he cried while throwing their hard earned money to the wind, and insisting they now use only the newly approved words.
Thus, was the Kingdom of Castle Canuck, a sad and royal mess to behold. Then the plague arrived…….