Questions Regarding the Emperor Currently Walking Down the Street Naked

Should we be concerned?

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So… I don’t want to be the one to say it, but there’s not a single stitch of clothing on this guy? He’s more naked than a baby bald eagle. If the Emperor were truly draped in the most exclusive fabrics available, then I wouldn’t be staring at his unclad buns as they bounce merrily down the street. Oh Lordy, there’s not even a dicky or brooch to add a sense of decorum.

Is this what we’re doing now? I’ll admit that I skimmed the imperial newsletter, and it’s possible I missed some key information. Did the Magister announce that full-frontal would be de rigor for summer? Did the Grand Physician proclaim that skin cancer is on the rise, and we’ve all been enlisted into eyeballing the Emperor’s moles for irregularities?

Also, I don’t understand why everyone is congratulating the tailors on the quality of their craftsmanship. What work could they possibly have done here? Convinced the wind to tussle the imperial chest hair? Buffed the imperial biceps? Whatever they’re being paid, it is too much. They could have at least found the poor Emperor a pair of shoes, so the rest of us wouldn’t be forever haunted by the sound of his toenails clicking across the cobblestones.

I feel funny. Maybe there’s something wrong with my eyes. Maybe my mind is going. Maybe he’s not really naked?

Maybe I’m naked?

No, these are definitely pants.

Should I be naked?

Come to think of it, what are the laws regarding public nudity in this far-flung, fairy-tale empire? I’ve never had reason to ask, but suddenly curiosity is overwhelming me. Is it only the Emperor who can wave the entirety of himself around the village, or should I expect to see Fredrick, who owns the candle shop next door, measuring melt points in his birthday suit? I don’t know how much of this sort of thing I can take. An exposed ankle can be a lot to process. Watching the whole damn enchilada wiggle past is giving me the vapors.

At least he’s confident. That’s important when one is walking through town denuded.

Are we allowed to take pictures?

Maybe it’s a metaphor. The Emperor is modeling extreme vulnerability to demonstrate the extent to which he trusts us, his subjects, with his hidden self. By displaying his wares so boldly, he’s teaching us that a person cannot hope to rule the world without first vanquishing any shame they possess. The Emperor knows that humans are nothing more than a collection of oddly-placed creases and freckles, and, if we cannot contend with that truth, then we do not deserve to dream of laurels. Clothes are scaffolding, propping up this empire of sad and twisted souls. He wants better for us. He wants us to be pure, whole and free.

What a wise man. What a wise, wise, very naked man.