The Emperor's New Brain (fwd)

17 Dec 2003

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Sincere apologies if someone's sent this to the list before....

Forwarded message:
...
This comes to you courtesy of Del's friend Joe Levy:
Would you all mind distributing this as much as possible?  I, and every
net-surfer who is concerned about her/his rights, are trying to stop Big
Brother from taking over, and need all the help we can get.  There may be more
serious letters later on.  For now, just enjoy a slightly ridiculous one.  All
the best, and don't get struck by flying pygmies, as always.
                                                         Forever,
                                                               Joe
The Emperor's New Brain
                      by Blimix (Joe Levy)
(With apologies to Hans Christian Anderson.)
Once upon a time, there was an Emperor.  He had been voted
into office fairly easily, because he had managed to impress people
with his brain.  But once he realized that the job demanded more,
he said, "My brain is too small!"  So he had posters hung on every
blank wall in the kingdom, proclaiming the need for skilled neural
surgeons/tailors to weave him a new, better, bigger brain.  "Soon,"
he thought, "I will have a good brain and will be able to govern my
empire properly, and all the people will love me, and I'll be so
cool that there'll be chicks hanging around me all the time...
Maybe I'll even get a car, or put up the bestest BBS in the
world..." and so on.  What he didn't know what that he was saying
all of this out loud, and that a small band of rogues had been
shadowing him for the duration of his monologue.  When the Emperor
had left to pursue other activities, due to the rather self-
exciting nature of his mostly derailed train of thought, the rogues
spoke amongst themselves.
     "Will you listen to that, mate?" commented NSA.  "The poor
chap really hasn't got a clue!"
     "Yeah, let's put him out of our misery," remarked FBI.
     "Be quiet, will you?" said CIA.  "You dolt, don't you see the
prospects here?  We can rule this place.  NSA and NIST have the
plan.  Where is NIST, anyway?"
     "He'll be along, shortly.  He had some business with that
hotshot DES.  Chopped half of DES's - thing - off, he did.  Ugly
business," replied NSA.
*  *  *
"Sire, there are some important-looking men to see you," said
the page.
     The Emperor jumped.  "What?!?  Oh!  Okay, I'll be down
shortly.  Um, you didn't... see anything... did you?"
     "No, Sire," the page replied immediately.
    The Emperor left to wash his hand.
*  *  *
"You mean you can weave a tremendous brain for me if I just
bring you all the doors, window blinds and roofs in the kingdom,
using your Clippers?"
     "Yeah, but there's also the matter of payment," said CIA.
     NSA spoke.  "We understand that you have, in the castle
vaults, a supply of magical potions of growth.  Those will do
nicely."
     "But those are the only ones in the kingdom!  We have saved
them since the days of my great-great-great-great-grandmother,
what's-her-name!"
     FBI stood to his full, rather impressive height, and looked
down at the suddenly small-feeling Emperor.  "This is what's best
for the kingdom, isn't it?  You need a brain, and we need the
potions.  Do you really want to argue?"
     "Uh... of course not." was the meek response.
     "Good.  Now that that's settled-" began NSA.
     "But what if the peasants want to keep their roofs and doors
and blinds?" interrupted the Emperor.
     NSA confidently replied, "They won't.  We'll make sure that
they know it's all for the common good.  Besides, those things are
only needed to conceal things.  People who have nothing to hide
have no cause to resent this, do they?  Besides, if against all
likelihood, our idea is rejected by the public, we can simply put
everything that we took away back again.  And don't think for a
moment that we would be looking into the houses of innocents.  No,
we can help you take care of your subjects.  They will look up to
us as kindly Big Brothers."
     "I'm quite capable of taking care of the kingdom myself,"
asserted the Emperor.
     "Nonsense," CIA remarked.  "We're the ones building you this
brain, right?"
     "Right," the Emperor acquiesced, though he wasn't quite sure
that the conclusion followed logically from this.  He felt there
was something slightly wrong, but since he could not tell what, he
decided not to risk making a fool of himself.
     "Then we can begin!" roared FBI.
*  *  *
At the scoundrels' insistence, the Emperor ordered every
construction worker in the kingdom to work on the dismantling of
the houses, using their new Clippers.  Thus did the infrastructure
suffer, as roads crumbled, and prices rose, while the economy began
a slow but accelerating collapse.  Just inside the castle, a ragged
collection of peasants met with the Emperor.
     "Why are your goons doing this to us?" cried one woman.  "I
can't get to work anymore!"
    And old man spoke up.  "Without a roof, we can't keep the
rains off of us!  My whole family has pneumonia!"  Several others
shouted their agreement.
     "I was willing to sacrifice for the kingdom," lamented a
former merchant.  "I willingly gave them all of my wood, and put up
paper instead.  They ripped it down!  And they didn't even use it!
They just said I couldn't have anything covering me."
     "I'm sure there are perfectly reasonable explanations for all
of this."
     Suddenly four towering figures entered, and herded the
peasants outside.  "There's no such thing as rain!  Stop
complaining!"  A few families were trampled during the confusion,
but no one noticed.
*  *  *
It was only a week later that the smoke was first seen.
Behind the castle, the tremendous stockpiles of collected wood were
being burned.
     "My kingdom is collapsing!" cried the Emperor.
     "And we know why!" exclaimed FBI.  "There are secret societies
of witches that oppose us.  But our spies, KGB and Mccarthy, have
been rooting them out.  That is what the fires are for."
     "But you're burning the wood that you said you would save!"
     "SO WHAT?!?!?!?"
     "Okay, as long as you put it that way.  What about my brain?"
     This caught FBI by surprise, for he had completely forgotten
about the deal.  Luckily, CIA happened to be in the room, and
glibly replied, "The chemical reactions going on right now are the
final processes in the construction of the brain."
     "Oh, goody."  The prospect of the new brain cheered up the
Emperor, and he forgot about his dying kingdom.
*  *  *
Witch-burnings were becoming common.  The rogues, now grown to
immense size, regularly reached into houses, plucking out the
occupants, and placed them on the huge bonfires.  The first ones
taken, of course, were the poor peasants who had originally spoken
up.  Then, anyone who had a brain was considered a potential
threat, and made into a scapegoat.
     "What did this woman do that makes you believe she's a witch?"
the Emperor asked.
     FBI replied, "She turned me into a n-"
     "Shut up," said NSA.  "We discovered a rumor about strange
activities going on in her house.  We checked it out, and surely
enough, we found this."  He triumphantly held up a rather well-
executed painting of a swan launching itself into flight from an
alpine lake.
     "What is its relevance to witchcraft?"
     NSA began, "First, the canvas can be used to shield her from
sight, so she obviously has something to hide.  Also, the drawing
itself is obviously a dangerous example of freedom propaganda.  As
we all know, freedom cannot be tolerated.  We also intercepted this
letter from her to her band.  It proves that she and the twenty
other people named here are witches."
     Working her mouth free of the gag, the woman cried, "I didn't
write that!  It's not even in my hand-"  FBI cut off her protest by
flinging her into the blazing conflagration.
*  *  *
NSA congratulated his friends.  "Well, lads, we've made a
killing.  Besides having the power to do whatever we want to
whomever we want, our Clippers are selling like wildfire, since
they're the only product that anyone is allowed to buy now.  Can
you believe we actually managed to convince people that those
things are useful?"  They all laughed heartily at this.  "It's
probably time to invite the Emperor back into the castle."
     At their call, his Excellency dutifully entered.  "We finished
your brain last night, and implanted it while you were sleeping in
the stables," claimed CIA.  "It is indeed huge, and, being made
from pure energy (released by the burning wood), weighs virtually
nothing.  We fashioned it in such a way that only a person without
personal problems can see it, so that you may judge this
characteristic in people with ease."
     FBI held up a mirror to facilitate the Emperor's viewing of
his new brain.  "How do you like it?"
     Though he saw nothing but his own reflection, he said, "It is
a good brain.  I like the laurels particularly.  Let's hold a
parade, so that all may see The Emperor's New Brain!"
*  *  *
And so it was.  The day came, and the broken people trudged
through the pitted streets to finally view the great result of
their even greater sacrifice.  As they waited expectantly for the
parade train, they wondered, "Was the loss of our privacy and
freedom of thought worth a slightly more effective government?"
But they could do nothing more than wonder, for to speak thusly
would mean certain death.  So, they mutely held their only
possessions, the Clippers, which had been the instruments of their
downfall.
     A wave of excitement swept through the crowd, as the arrival
of the parade was heralded.  All knew of the wondrous properties
that the Brain possessed, and were eager to see it for themselves.
As the crowd held its breath, the Emperor came into view.  And no
one was surprised that they could not see the brain, because they
knew perfectly well that they had problems.  But this could not be
admitted.  Words of praise floated through the air.  "How regal it
is!"  "That brain is huge!"  "I like the color scheme."  "Now he'll
be able to solve all of our problems."
     "That brain doesn't exist," said a junior programmer.
     "Well, neither do we," said a philosopher.
     "No, I mean it!  There's no brain there!" the programmer
insisted.  And gradually, the crowd became aware of the truth of
his words.
     "The Emperor doesn't have a brain!" they all shouted.  They
picked up fragments of concrete that had once been a sidewalk, and
started throwing them.  Luckily for the Emperor, this behavior was
quelled when FBI stepped on the offending parties.
     The survivors were too weak, due to lack of protection from
the elements, to fight back.  And while the all-powerful villains
lived comfortably for the rest of their lives, a nation died.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little
temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." - Benjamin
Franklin
Don't let Clipper be YOUR downfall.  Learn as much as you can,
than do whatever you can to educate others, and let your
representatives and senators know how you feel.  Wired is a good
source of information.  Read the April issue.  Or gopher to
wired.com to see their database.  Lazarus Long and I will be
putting up Clipper-dedicated databases of our own.  (More
information to follow.)
Y Gwir Yn Erbyn Byd,
                                          Blimix
                                          jl0637@rachel.albany.edu
p.s.  Please feel free to distribute this story at will.  I merely
ask that you do not change or delete any part of it, from the title
line to this post-script.
- --
Adam Lindsey Jacobs                 |   "Thinking is the hardest work
bullfrog@jaflrn.morse.net           |      there is, which is probably the
Long Island, New York, U.S.A.       |        reason why so few engage in it."

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The Emperor's New Brain (fwd)

lmccarth＠freya.cs.umass.edu