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I always dreamed of being a court jester.

Imagine the privilege of being a jester! I would make a wonderful living; I would dine in the king’s court, wear my cap and bells and carry a marotte, and everyone at the table would want to listen to my thoughts. Each night, there would be a banquet, and I, the centerpiece; I’d dance on the table and across the floor, providing entertainment for the noblemen, singing songs and playing instruments as they’d laugh and clap along.

Of course, such a position would require significant skill; they’d lean in not for my charming looks, but for what I’d have to say about anything and everything. Amidst the song and dance, I would tell stories and deliver news, perhaps straightforward, or wrapped in elaborate metaphor. I would tell the king what nobody else dare tell him; not only his majesty, but his shortcomings. A king would have anyone else who dares criticize him in his own court beheaded, but I, the court jester, his special and charming fool, would get a pass. Amidst the singing and dancing, I’d deliver him and his men good news and bad news alike; with only my words, I could make bad news good, and good news hilarious!

Now, such a high position would come with great responsibility. That’s why I would use my power only for good; I would use my influence upon the king to make policies that would support the common peasant! I’m sure I would have plenty of peasant friends! I would be the greatest peasant-ally in the court, and through my words and ideas, the king would declare holidays in their honor, leaving them time to rest amidst their arduous work in the fields. I, of course, am tireless and would never get a day off, sacrificing myself in my noble and honorable goals as the jester in the king’s court. Perhaps they may dream of being jesters as well; one does not have to be of noble birth to become a jester, after all; and plenty of dukes and barons would require our services to entertain guests and provide well-needed insight as to how to manage their lands.

Alas, it’s not meant to be. History has shown the populace’s decreasing awareness of the integrity and importance of the role of the court jester. Even the English, patrons of the comic arts, have abandoned the jester long ago, outsourcing the job to temporary dramatists who fill the position intermittently, rather than dedicating their lives to the craft. Charles II turned to a mere playwright, Thomas Killigrew, to provide him with much needed jests and advice. How would a playwright work with the intricacy of communication and court intrigue a jester lives and breathes?

As if this weren’t enough, to add further insult to injury, some ungrateful subjects across an ocean decided to create their own country separate from Great Britain, disobeying their rightful king. They thought anyone should have the right to criticize their new king freely; in fact, they believed they shouldn’t have a king at all! In their revolutionary furor, they destroyed social bonds and well-made livelihoods, uprooting the fabric of society itself, dragging the poor jester along with it. They spoke of imaginary virtues, such as “freedom of speech” and “commerce”, in order to justify their reign of terror. They sparked attacks against their enemies, and would not relent until their country was formed, noble dukes and barons replaced with “governors”, elevated commoners restrained by mobs. With their “freedom of the press”, the once valuable privilege of the jester was gone, and the government was free to be criticized by people with no thought or training. And yet it gets worse!

These so-called “democratically-elected” governments, put into place by raucous mobs, formed an interconnected network, an “internet”, and summoned the most accursed demons through this global network, Twitter being the worst! One logs into Twitter, and sees myriads of amateur jesters, making a mockery of our craft! They criticize the government freely, saying the silliest things, and most of it isn’t even funny! They rally around their king of the jesters, one “Elon Musk”, a charlatan of low style and no substance who merely jests part-time; aside from that, he is a car salesman and idle stargazer! His words are only funny in their uselessness; he helplessly flails in his own realm, unable to hold influence with the true powers-that-be. Is this what our craft has been reduced to? Is this the end result of our disrespect for the jester? Your kings do not listen to you, and the peasants disregard you as well; you are a dime a dozen, and now you pay the price. Our work has been devalued by your entrance, and my dream of a living has been smothered in the cradle. Curses on you all, spiteful curs!

Therefore, to resurrect the livelihood, both jocular and sustaining, that the role of a jester and its privilege provides, I propose putting the innovations of these novel societies to rest; namely the so-called “freedoms” of speech and press, and restoring absolute monarchy coupled with titles of peerage for petty landowners.

On its surface, it is obvious; why would a representative of a mob make better decisions on how to lead a kingdom than an educated wise man trained from birth? The representative would see no need to listen, as once they climb to power, they need only wait their term until they fall from it. A monarch is tied to his kingdom; he listens to his people as is his divine responsibility, and the jester may serve as their intermediary, one of its many valuable services. Through his reign, he preserves harmony and order, quite unlike the chaos the modern-day fools revel in, with no higher responsibility or desire to fix it.

The modern-day fools know no bounds. They mock the jesters of yore, their forefathers that they stole their craft from, desecrating our craft both in print and online. They do not follow our careful rules, unspoken and passed down through careful observation. Even a jester would never deliver bad news directly to their king; they would lighten the occasion head-on with careful wordplay and sentence structure. Jesting is an art and craft; years of practice are required before holding an audience with the king! These faux-jesters speak of events they know nothing of and mock them regardless; clearly, the privilege to speak of such events should only be afforded to those who know how to use it wisely. This has been multiplied manifold through the innovations of the demonic internet, a place where anyone can put on their own cap and bells and take our noble role.

If the privilege of the jester is restored, it would be a boon to our economy; hundreds, nay, thousands of jobs would be created by nobles seeking entertainment at their dinner parties, bequeathing a home to live and food to eat upon the true funniest of our society, those that deserve it and are chosen by educated gentlemen with impeccable taste, not by a mob that chortles without knowing how they are being fooled. Anyone can become a jester, but not anyone-anyone; you may not have to be of noble birth, but being a jester requires years of training, only undertaken by those destined to be the finest of fools. We deserve our role because of our dedication, our austerity, and our spark; that which separates us from the peasant. The denizens of Twitter jest for free, not knowing of a world where they can be paid for their work as comedians and influencers by nobles, where those with true talent, refined through years of practice, may earn a living! This so-called “democracy” has destroyed an entire economy; the mob is penniless and affords no boons to the jester’s craft; in the modern day, we are reduced to stand-up comedians, a disrespected occupation with our influence lost.

Even still, there are whispers that what I speak of is a myth! That the role of the jester was overplayed through the works of playwrights like Shakespeare, the rich history of our occupation reduced to tales of apocrypha, repeated and passed down through a nostalgia for days that never existed. Dastardly tongues, I say! Even if it were true, the benefits a jester provides are made so clear through my writing, I believe it is an imperative to bring about the role once more! The costs to the individual shall be vastly outweighed by the benefits to society; once again, a jester may make a living through their work, and we may yet have a functional society once more!

Indeed, some may be taken aback at this very proposal; they use words such as “undemocratic”, “unrealistic”, “royalist”, “reactionary”, and “blindly nostalgic” to denigrate my points of view, and instead they speak of education, increased funding for the arts, a reconsideration of our economic systems, and most insultingly, giving up the idea of a lifestyle that is not sustainable, is entirely based on reactionary nostalgia and historical myths, and has never been broadly afforded to an occupation, at any point in history, ever. Curse them! I believe the restoration of the jester is the least we could do to restore the fabric of our society. After all, it worked once, through my reckoning of history, therefore it shall work again. We shall realize that though one may jest in their free time, the purpose and act of being a jester is much more; it is a life of devotion and personal austerity, being grateful for what your noble affords you, educating yourself on the principle matters of the kingdom, and in return for this great responsibility, the sole privilege to speak freely to the king on your shared thoughts.

Or perhaps, I’m a fool from the moment I opened my mouth.