In the early decades of the 21st century, when the free people of the world wanted to become subjects of a powerful monarch or TV personality, the cataracts of confusion fell upon even the clearest eyes. It was a time when even previously sensible people doubted all sources of information except the wild-eyed, crazy-haired madmen of the internet realm who had access to a camera and microphone, but nothing else.
The Princess, Most Smart, and Beautiful Contest could usually bring calm to the masses, but in this time and place, the contest itself and its previous winner were part of the global problem. The princess had lost her beauty contest but refused to let go of her crown. This had never happened before and threatened massive chaos throughout the land.
She smacked her lips together to seal in the deep pink color and then pressed them to a toilet paper square to ensure there wouldn’t be bleeding of the color onto the skin around her mouth. She took such pains to retain her fading beauty. Year after year, she’d entered the Miss Princess Most Smart and Beautiful Contest and she’d finally won the biggest prize. While the supreme leader and holder of the title, she taunted and made fun of others and underestimated things that hurt her loyal, as well as disloyal subjects.
Losing was not an option for this princess, so she had to use some wily cunning to convince those who followed her every fashion move to continue to support her over her opponent who had actually won the contest. Behind the scenes, she pouted and refused to listen to any of her ladies in waiting or even the evil wizards with more experience. She cried into her pillow and screamed at those who tried to comfort her. She had the ability to unleash great terror, so it was imperative that she be settled down from her constant emotional volatility and outbursts. Exhausting! If anyone doubted her, she cast them to the tower of doom.
The kingdom was in jeopardy and common sense flew out the window like a raven taking wing for safety. Everyone started wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth. TMJ was on the increase, along with a pandemic killing her subjects. Still, she did not care about anyone but herself and her princess title.
All power requires a choice. There are two masters and those who capture elusive and most supreme power must choose which one to serve: the master of the higher realms on the steep and hard mountain path or the master of the self’s desire on the neon-lit easy street littered with many tempting stops along the way.
The princess chose the latter. Always.
And so, in her dressing room at her gold-plated vanity, she applied her make-up and studied her reflection. She spent days pondering tales the tabloids told about her vivid tantrums and tumultuous relationship with power, her apparent and yet, unacknowledged master. She found solace in the lies she told herself while her subjects destroyed one another. And the world wept.
I wrote this out of utter frustration at the state of our country and the irresponsibility of those in power to provide truthful information to the public rather than stoking the fires of division and hate, of which no good can come.
Donald Trump as a fading beauty queen seemed most appropriate. (No offense to beauty queens.) The insult of it all on anyone with any integrity, common sense, or intellectual curiosity, and the lack of these most important character traits on his powerful Republican syncophants astonishes me.