Reality's New Clothes

by Diane Sprague

It is the day of the great parade. All of the townspeople have gathered, the rich, the poor, the wise, the ignorant. Even the little child ran away from her isolation to be part of the crowd. For today, the king would come wearing the magnificent clothing that would reveal the secrets in the hearts of the people. Only those that had knowledge of the truth would see the marvelous garments. The rest would see none of the clothes and would be shamed by the revelation of their lack of knowledge and their lack of faith.

Those who saw the truth, the meaning of the universe would finally be vindicated. Now the people would discover who can see. All the false claims would be put to rest and blindness of the many would be revealed.

All the religious and philosophical factions in the town stood confidently in their groups. They felt certain of they would be the only ones to see the garments. How they would be able to puff themselves up and lord themselves over the ignorant fools who claimed false knowledge.

The child wandered through the crowd. She wondered where she could stand. All the groups stood firm with their assurance of their correct versions of reality. She could not stand firm. She knew so little, understood nothing, and could not plant herself anywhere. She hoped for meaning, beauty, and love. She hoped that things would someday make sense, be explained, and give her the clarity she was lacking. Even so, she remained an outsider, alone in a world where the crowds blatantly preached their version of truth. So she stood alone, excitedly awaiting the king's appearance. She wondered what she might see. She hoped for something new, something more.

In the distance the music played. The crowd was silenced. Their faces displayed their anticipation and expectations for the great display. "We shall soon see. We shall be the ones to see. We know what it is that we shall see," seemed to be the mantra of every smiling face in the large group of spectators.

The first heros in the parade were the tailors. What wonderful tailors they must be to design a gown that reveals. They marched in front enjoying everyone's applause. How hard they worked each night for the past year sewing their magical material, carefully weaving their mystical threads, choosing the precise colors and designs to tell the story of all things! What wonderful patterns and fittings would appear! Everyone stood on tiptoe, straining to see the coming king in his splendor and glory. How he would confirm their views, their opinions, their carefully chosen doctrines, arguments, and explanations. The others would be silenced, converted, and shamed. It had to be. Too much was at stake.

The child heard gasps from the crowd as the moment approached. The king appeared. She hear whispers and murmurs. "Ah, yes. I see. Quite a gown. I see it clearly. Do you? Indeed, I do. Do you?"

The child struggled to see around the surging group. The king was very close, if she could just press a bit more through the crowd. Finally, she found a tiny space and pressed herself through. There he was, standing on his wagon as he was slowly being pulled past.

She cried out. She was horrified because the honorable king stood before her completely naked. His enormous bulging stomach protruded in the front of him. Folds of fat loosely hung off of his arms, his legs, and his back. He coloring was full of red splotches, and thick, heavy body hair darkly smudged almost every inch of his lumpy, pimply skin. He was oblivious of his repulsiveness for he felt assured that he was fully clothed.

Around the child comments continued to be muttered. "It's a beautiful gown. Colors I haven't seen before. The design is exquisite. It changes color in different lights. The pattern shows all." Even so, their eyes betrayed them. They were riveted toward the king's grotesquely large stomach.

The child knew the truth. The tailors were tricksters. There was no clothes. Just the king naked, bulbous body. Just the hideous truth

"But he is naked," she cried. No one listened. No one heard.

As the parade passed, the talk continued. Each group proudly proclaimed their clear vision of the clothes; they sneered at the others who said they saw the garments too. They proclaimed the others were liars, covering up their ignorance as usual. Nothing changed. Arguments flaired up. Intolerance swept through the crowd. The town remained a befuddled group of us and them.

The child bowed her head and slowly walked away. Not only did she see through the illusions. She saw the hideous truth.

She walked back to her isolation. She hoped for a vision of beauty, meaning, and love, but at the center of everything was just a fat, ugly, naked king.

She climbed onto a roof and stood at the edge to watching the stragglers slowly turn away from the remains of the parade. Tomorrow the world would be the same. It would not change. Nobody would see what they did not want to see.

When one is standing above the world in high place, concepts such as space and time can sometimes disappear. The child leaned over. "Maybe I can fly," she thought.

It's all an illusion. Nothing is really there. Just a blank. Just silence..

There was silence in heaven for one hour.

She floated in the air. Everything stopped. She could feel sorrow or joy. Either one. It was always a choice.

There was silence in heaven for one day.

All was full. All was empty. Either one. It was always a choice.

There was silence in heaven for one year.

No one answers our prayers or hears our desperate cries. Except ourselves. We can answer. It's our choice.

There was silence in heaven for one thousand years.

She started falling. She started flying. The earth sped towards her. The earth sped away. Either one. It's always our choice.

The was silence in heaven for all eternity.

Only the fools below made the choice to make some noise.