“Arise, O Wizard of Id. Your majesty, the crowd is waiting for to deliver your message.” I, the Wizard of Id, the aging king of the Akunamatata, slowly opened his sleepy eyes, woke up that new year’s morning, realizing that another year had just past. I dragged the fact that I had to wake so early just to deliver a stupid new years message to a bunch of nitwitted idiots. Sigh. I didn’t have the choice. I stroked the white patch of hair on my head, climbed out of bed, put on my Sunday’s best and proceeded to the royal towel balcony.

      The drums rolled and the trumpets blared. Embedded within the trumpets and drums was the crashing of rotten eggs and the loud jeering of the peasants. The smell of it was good enough to make me puke from a thousand meters. Then walking past was worried Sir Elton John. He reported the chaotic situation outside which made me tremble. “Who’s warming up the peasants before my speech?” I stammered. I was relieved to know that my most faithful advisor, Sir Rooney was on his duty. I was confident that he would do a good job. After all he was liked by all, young and old. “ Good that should deplete most of their rotten eggs.” I held onto my speech draft and waited until the crowed quieted down

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       Once again, the drums rolled and the trumpets blared, to announce my majestic arrival. “The king will now deliver his most profound ‘new year’s message’ ever,” exclaimed Sir Rooney. My time had come had come. The speech I was going to make would affect my reputation for the last years I’ll be living on this earth. I was determined to convince those peasants about democracy. I tipped-toed and stood on the royal balcony, only to see the peasants looking hard at their vertically challenged king.

        I cleared my throat and started, ...

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