Once upon a time, there was a fair land known for its prosperity and freedom. The king of this land was widely regarded for bringing along such prosperity and freedom, and was known for his lavish, expensive clothes.
The people found pride in the clothes of their king. Their clothes may not be as nice, but they could watch a person work their way up to the ability to buy such finery, and do it themselves.
The king, however, wanted more. He had the finest clothes in the land, but it was not enough. There had to be some master tailor to craft such finery.
And lo, one was found.
A tailor of impeccable skill and renowned for his invisible hands came along, and told the king he could create the finest duds that man has ever seen...with such opulence and splendor that all would look upon his fine country and strive to have the ability to get such finery as well.
The tailor began to spin together cloth. One outfit was made, then discarded. Another. Another. Oh, the tailor was producing clothes that any person would be proud to wear, but it was not at the level of the king's desires. Such clothing was simply not good enough, despite their opulence, their splendor, their comfort.
And so the tailor began to work again.
The day had finally come to reveal his work to the king, and he presented the outfit to the king. The king was actually a fairly savvy fellow, and noticed that the tailor was holding an empty set of hangers.
"Good tailor, why are there no clothes," the king asked.
"But there are clothes here, my liege. Here, I have an outfit that does not restrict your movement at all. It accents your fine form. Truly, this is the finest set of clothes around," the tailor replied.
So moved was the tailor by his speech, he continued on. "It will always protect you from the weather, whether it be blazing heat or bitter cold. My invisible clothes will react to the forces of the weather and adjust accordingly."
The king was convinced, and clad himself with the contents of the hangers, and ordered a parade to show off his wisdom and the fine clothing.
The scene of the parade, however, was not what the king had expected. Rather than seeing his prosperous nation before him to fete his wealth and wisdom, he saw streets lined with poor. Oh, to be sure, there were many prosperous among the crowd, some more prosperous than ever! But the number of poor and downtrodden was truly startling. And look upon their faces showed their disbelief.
They had worked long hours to provide the materials for a great suit. They had sacrificed much for a promise of a better tomorrow. And here before them stood the king with no clothes on, making a mockery of their work.
The parade continued, until it came upon a truly ragged group of the downtrodden, who gazed upon the king, listened to his court regale them of the finery their king was wearing....and they pointed out that the king had no clothes on.
The people were incensed by this. So much so that they began to mock the downtrodden.
"They reek! We understand that this is a long multi-day parade, but you could have gone home and showered, at the least!"
"Why did you camp out here? You know you aren't supposed to stay here overnight! Don't you have a job to go to?"
"You're just jealous of what the king has!"
"These poor are scum, liars, and only want to bring down what has made us prosperous!"
"Even if I agree with what they're saying, do they have to go about it in this manner? It makes us all look bad!"
The insults flew. People were arrested. People continued to mock the fringes of society that gathered to keep telling the king he had no clothes. And yet, the poor continued on. It wasn't that they hated the king, or wanted him deposed. But they were not going to stand for the king's growing appetites of fancy. It made them all look foolish when the king paraded down the streets in the buff and claimed he had on the finest clothes in the world. They simply wanted the king to go back to his old clothing. Plenty opulent, far nicer than most could ever have. Something people could work towards!
And yet, the truth remained, even when told by those on the fringes of society. The tailor with invisible hands may have convinced the king he was sporting opulence, but it was obvious to those who looked that he was unclothed.
I wish, dear reader, that I could tell you how this fable ends. The mocking and arrests continue. The king's invisible threads are supposedly doing their job...but who can tell?
For now? The king still has no clothes. Time will only tell whether they stay off, are put back on by choice, or are put back on by force. The truth, however, still remains.