Trouble was smiling at his arsehole

Some people imagined that our leader’s ferocious grin was really a snarl. They didn’t expect anything to come of receiving a look from those teeth. They were as immoveable as a high wall; there was no subtlety in the display. He had learned as a child that such a grimace paid off. If everybody laughed, his ensuing grimace was a gesture towards conformity.

The people of the nation knew what the smile meant. It’s significance was plain: if he was accepted in anyway at all he would reward those who liked him with doing what they thought they wanted. After a few years they realised he was beginning to think that his people weren’t really the ones who could push him to the heights. He began accusing them of being people who wanted what he wanted. “The people want this to happen,” he would say to the cameras and the cameras couldn’t deny it at all. Cameras can’t tell anyone how it really is. He began lying in a sanctimonious way. “We need to fight for peace,” he’d say, having seen a sign like that in a movie once and knowing straight away what a considerable truth that was.

But he was really in trouble when he began smiling at his own arsehole because no one else was listening. He imagined the sounds he heard there were really cheers. He became psychotic, imagining he was the only leader for the world.

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