There once was a king who took the reins of power rather late in his life and ruled his large kingdom with great cruelty and shortsightedness, his entire purpose self-enrichment and the enrichment of his cronies and sycophants.
For reasons unclear to the majority of the king’s subjects, a sizeable minority of the population thought the old king had magical powers and therefore they would not turn against him even though his decrees caused them terrible suffering.
So the old king continued to plunder the kingdom and deprive many of his subjects the basic necessities of life while his corrupt parliament and judges did not dispute his cruel decrees.
And verily things might have gone on like this for many more years except the old king was fast losing his marbles and it would soon be impossible to disguise his demented state from his subjects.
The old king had never made much sense when he spoke, but at least he had known where he was and what he was doing from one minute to the next. Now he was starting to show the unmistakable signs of brain rot, and most of what he said seemed insane to even his most ardent supporters.
The cartel of cruel and greedy lords who supported the king were keenly aware of the king’s deteriorating mental condition and they began discussing how to deal with the fast-approaching moment when the king would no longer know who he was or where he was or what was happening around him.
“He will be no use to us as a doddering old fool who can’t remember anything,” said one of the evil lords. “In fact, he might possibly be a threat to us, especially if he becomes paranoid and senile. What if he decides we are his enemies and orders our heads cut off?”
“I’ve got it!” said another of the lords. “The old king will fall seriously ill, and with death approaching he will anoint a successor. Then the old king will die and we will hail him as a martyr for freedom or something equally ironic, and his successor will do our bidding and we can continue plundering the kingdom.”
And so it was decided the king would be given a potion to render him weak and sickly. He would then be put to bed from where he would name the new king to carry on his glorious rule. And then the old king would conveniently die.
Verily this plot might have come to pass, except the old king still had a few of his marbles left and guessed what the evil lords were planning to do. With the last of his strength and cunning he had those plotting against him beheaded, and thereafter the old king became a babbling idiot.
Then his subjects did rise up and dethrone him, and a strange and marvelous new idea took hold throughout the kingdom, a thing called democratic socialism, a system of governance in which every citizen of the kingdom was treated with kindness and respect and afforded what they needed to live safe and meaningful lives.
The End
The Goodly Fool from Todd’s solo piano album Ceremonies.