“You mean I have to lie to get elected!?”, Arthur cursed under his breath, “what kind of future is it if everyone lies.” Arthur paced back and forth. His political advisers eyed him carefully. One of the interns spoke up, “what if you started dating a celebrity to gain some noteriety?”
Arthur looked worried. He could not wrap his mind around popularity and why it was so important. “Why can’t I just tell the people I am here to save them?”, Arthur questioned. “Because, Arthur, the last guy who said that tanked in the primaries by forty points,” sighed Marcus, the campaign manager, rubbing his temples.
“People don’t want a savior”, Marcus explained, “they want lower taxes, relatable flaws, and someone who won’t make them feel guilty about eating fast food. If you tell them you’re the Once and Future King then CNN will call you delusional, MSNBC will call you an authoritarian monarchist, and Zombie Twitter will cancel you before lunch.”
Arthur stopped in front of the large window in the executive suite staring down at the suffocating river of yellow cabs below. Camelot had known treachery, yes, but it had possessed a spine. In his day, a man’s oath was his bond, sealed in blood or steel. If a knight lied, he answered for it at the end of a lance. Here, deceit was not a vice. It was an industry.
“In my court,” Arthur spoke, his voice carrying the deep resonance that once silenced an entire castle, “we sat at a table without head or foot so no man felt lesser. We judged a leader by the widows he protected, not the applause he manufactured.”
Marcus leaned back, clicking his pen with an irritating rhythm. “Well, your Round Table didn’t have to survive a twenty-four-hour news cycle. If you won’t play the game, leak a scandal about your opponent, or at least let us fake a relationship to People magazine you’ll lose. It’s that simple.”
Arthur stepped away from the window. He looked at the dry-erase boards scrawled with polling demographics, focus-group reactions, and calculated evasions. “Then I shall lose,” Arthur said softly.
“You mean I have to lie to get elected!?”, Arthur cursed under his breath, “what kind of future is it if everyone lies.” Arthur paced back and forth. His political advisers eyed him carefully. One of the interns spoke up, “what if you started dating a celebrity to gain some noteriety?”
Arthur looked worried. He could not wrap his mind around popularity and why it was so important. “Why can’t I just tell the people I am here to save them?”, Arthur questioned. “Because, Arthur, the last guy who said that tanked in the primaries by forty points,” sighed Marcus, the campaign manager, rubbing his temples.
“People don’t want a savior”, Marcus explained, “they want lower taxes, relatable flaws, and someone who won’t make them feel guilty about eating fast food. If you tell them you’re the Once and Future King then CNN will call you delusional, MSNBC will call you an authoritarian monarchist, and Zombie Twitter will cancel you before lunch.”
Arthur stopped in front of the large window in the executive suite staring down at the suffocating river of yellow cabs below. Camelot had known treachery, yes, but it had possessed a spine. In his day, a man’s oath was his bond, sealed in blood or steel. If a knight lied, he answered for it at the end of a lance. Here, deceit was not a vice. It was an industry.
“In my court,” Arthur spoke, his voice carrying the deep resonance that once silenced an entire castle, “we sat at a table without head or foot so no man felt lesser. We judged a leader by the widows he protected, not the applause he manufactured.”
Marcus leaned back, clicking his pen with an irritating rhythm. “Well, your Round Table didn’t have to survive a twenty-four-hour news cycle. If you won’t play the game, leak a scandal about your opponent, or at least let us fake a relationship to People magazine you’ll lose. It’s that simple.”
Arthur stepped away from the window. He looked at the dry-erase boards scrawled with polling demographics, focus-group reactions, and calculated evasions. “Then I shall lose,” Arthur said softly.
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