This is an old story. A story possibly that has been read to you but you have never read yourself. It has a timeless message. About how self absorbed some people get that they assume the whole world is sucked into seeing what they believe. Getting sucked in and trapped in being superficial. Thinking people with less time on their hands will feel the same way. Sometimes I believe most stories we learn as kids should be required reading for us when we are so called adults. I am not even limiting this discussion to physical traits. I am sure every single one of you knows somebody who talks so loud so everyone can hear no matter how limited their conversation is whether its audience, or relevance . People who are attention seeking missiles. They seem to act the way they do otherwise they are ignored totally. No attention is bad attention as far as they are concerned. And being totally irrelevant is what they hate. Just like these Emperor’s New Clothes types overestimate their looks and their topical relevance. They see the world through the lens of vanity. The two words high maintenance do not begin to describe them. Here is a group where that clueless trait is a prerequisite to be part of them .
God makes us in different shapes and sizes. Not everyone is a cover girl or pinup guy but there should be some accountability. I believe in trying to be secure in one's own skin but not to show too much of that skin if there is too much of it. That was the downfall of the Emperor.
I included in the files Sinead O Connor's Emperor's New Clothes. Fascinating lyrics that I can not get a bead on them Not sure if she means she herself may be delusional or her lover. Lyrics provided in the attachments portion
If you remember Mandy Patinkin’s classic portrayal of Indigo Montaya from Princess Bride. He was telling Wallace Shawn about his constant use of the word ‘inconceivable’ : "I don’t think that word means what you think it means.". It’s the common thread with the Emperor and all the people who demand your attention who believe everybody is caught up in their self delusion that they do not see flaws. . People who wrongly crave attention. Their dialogue does not mean what they themselves think it means. Their wardrobe does not flatter the way they think it flatters. Their mannerisms do not project what they think it projects. Then again you can make that argument about me and my blog. Like Sinead maybe I have some of that too.
Ed
Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of new clothes
that he spent all his money on being well dressed. He cared nothing
about reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a
ride in his carriage, except to show off his new clothes. He had a
coat for every hour of the day, and instead of saying, as one might,
about any other ruler, "The King's in council," here they always said.
"The Emperor's in his dressing room."
In the great city where he lived, life was always gay. Every day many
strangers came to town, and among them one day came two swindlers.
They let it be known they were weavers, and they said they could weave
the most magnificent fabrics imaginable. Not only were their colors
and patterns uncommonly fine, but clothes made of this cloth had a
wonderful way of becoming invisible to anyone who was unfit for his
office, or who was unusually stupid.
"Those would be just the clothes for me," thought the Emperor. "If I
wore them I would be able to discover which men in my empire are unfit
for their posts. And I could tell the wise men from the fools. Yes, I
certainly must get some of the stuff woven for me right away." He paid
the two swindlers a large sum of money to start work at once.
They set up two looms and pretended to weave, though there was nothing
on the looms. All the finest silk and the purest old thread which they
demanded went into their traveling bags, while they worked the empty
looms far into the night.
"I'd like to know how those weavers are getting on with the cloth,"
the Emperor thought, but he felt slightly uncomfortable when he
remembered that those who were unfit for their position would not be
able to see the fabric. It couldn't have been that he doubted himself,
yet he thought he'd rather send someone else to see how things were
going. The whole town knew about the cloth's peculiar power, and all
were impatient to find out how stupid their neighbors were.
"I'll send my honest old minister to the weavers," the Emperor
decided. "He'll be the best one to tell me how the material looks, for
he's a sensible man and no one does his duty better."
So the honest old minister went to the room where the two swindlers
sat working away at their empty looms.
"Heaven help me," he thought as his eyes flew wide open, "I can't see
anything at all". But he did not say so.
Both the swindlers begged him to be so kind as to come near to approve
the excellent pattern, the beautiful colors. They pointed to the empty
looms, and the poor old minister stared as hard as he dared. He
couldn't see anything, because there was nothing to see. "Heaven have
mercy," he thought. "Can it be that I'm a fool? I'd have never guessed
it, and not a soul must know. Am I unfit to be the minister? It would
never do to let on that I can't see the cloth."
"Don't hesitate to tell us what you think of it," said one of the weavers.
"Oh, it's beautiful -it's enchanting." The old minister peered through
his spectacles. "Such a pattern, what colors!" I'll be sure to tell
the Emperor how delighted I am with it."
"We're pleased to hear that," the swindlers said. They proceeded to
name all the colors and to explain the intricate pattern. The old
minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to
the Emperor. And so he did.
The swindlers at once asked for more money, more silk and gold thread,
to get on with the weaving. But it all went into their pockets. Not a
thread went into the looms, though they worked at their weaving as
hard as ever.
The Emperor presently sent another trustworthy official to see how the
work progressed and how soon it would be ready. The same thing
happened to him that had happened to the minister. He looked and he
looked, but as there was nothing to see in the looms he couldn't see
anything.
"Isn't it a beautiful piece of goods?" the swindlers asked him, as
they displayed and described their imaginary pattern.
"I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must be that I'm
unworthy of my good office. That's strange. I mustn't let anyone find
it out, though." So he praised the material he did not see. He
declared he was delighted with the beautiful colors and the exquisite
pattern. To the Emperor he said, "It held me spellbound."
All the town was talking of this splendid cloth, and the Emperor
wanted to see it for himself while it was still in the looms. Attended
by a band of chosen men, among whom were his two old trusted
officials-the ones who had been to the weavers-he set out to see the
two swindlers. He found them weaving with might and main, but without
a thread in their looms.
"Magnificent," said the two officials already duped. "Just look, Your
Majesty, what colors! What a design!" They pointed to the empty looms,
each supposing that the others could see the stuff.
"What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything. This is terrible!
Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor? What a thing to happen to
me of all people! - Oh! It's very pretty," he said. "It has my highest
approval." And he nodded approbation at the empty loom. Nothing could
make him say that he couldn't see anything.
His whole retinue stared and stared. One saw no more than another, but
they all joined the Emperor in exclaiming, "Oh! It's very pretty," and
they advised him to wear clothes made of this wonderful cloth
especially for the great procession he was soon to lead. "Magnificent!
Excellent! Unsurpassed!" were bandied from mouth to mouth, and
everyone did his best to seem well pleased. The Emperor gave each of
the swindlers a cross to wear in his buttonhole, and the title of "Sir
Weaver."
Before the procession the swindlers sat up all night and burned more
than six candles, to show how busy they were finishing the Emperor's
new clothes. They pretended to take the cloth off the loom. They made
cuts in the air with huge scissors. And at last they said, "Now the
Emperor's new clothes are ready for him."
Then the Emperor himself came with his noblest noblemen, and the
swindlers each raised an arm as if they were holding something. They
said, "These are the trousers, here's the coat, and this is the
mantle," naming each garment. "All of them are as light as a spider
web. One would almost think he had nothing on, but that's what makes
them so fine."
"Exactly," all the noblemen agreed, though they could see nothing, for
there was nothing to see.
"If Your Imperial Majesty will condescend to take your clothes off,"
said the swindlers, "we will help you on with your new ones here in
front of the long mirror."
The Emperor undressed, and the swindlers pretended to put his new
clothes on him, one garment after another. They took him around the
waist and seemed to be fastening something - that was his train-as the
Emperor turned round and round before the looking glass.
"How well Your Majesty's new clothes look. Aren't they becoming!" He
heard on all sides, "That pattern, so perfect! Those colors, so
suitable! It is a magnificent outfit."
Then the minister of public processions announced: "Your Majesty's
canopy is waiting outside."
"Well, I'm supposed to be ready," the Emperor said, and turned again
for one last look in the mirror. "It is a remarkable fit, isn't it?"
He seemed to regard his costume with the greatest interest.
The noblemen who were to carry his train stooped low and reached for
the floor as if they were picking up his mantle. Then they pretended
to lift and hold it high. They didn't dare admit they had nothing to
hold.
So off went the Emperor in procession under his splendid canopy.
Everyone in the streets and the windows said, "Oh, how fine are the
Emperor's new clothes! Don't they fit him to perfection? And see his
long train!" Nobody would confess that he couldn't see anything, for
that would prove him either unfit for his position, or a fool. No
costume the Emperor had worn before was ever such a complete success.
"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said.
"Did you ever hear such innocent prattle?" said its father. And one
person whispered to another what the child had said, "He hasn't
anything on. A child says he hasn't anything on."
"But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at last.
The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. But he
thought, "This procession has got to go on." So he walked more proudly
than ever, as his noblemen held high the train that wasn't there at
all.
link to files http://cornholiogogs.multiply.com/journal/item/192/The_Emperors_New_Clothes_and_its_relevance_to_today_and_to_your_life_