Benjamen Walker's Theory of Everything - The boy who cried wolf

Episode Date: September 24, 2019

The boy who cried wolf crosses paths with the Emperor with no clothes and little red riding hood. Plus Computer Pinocchio. A remix of the Fairy tales from last year’s False Alarm series.

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Episodes every other week at neverpo.st and wherever you find pods. This installment is called The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived with his parents in a village on a hill. His parents, like everyone in the village and the surrounding countryside, were poor sheep farmers. And so, when this little boy turned 10 years old, his parents presented him with a shepherd's crook and sent him up the mountain. Because that's how things work in this part of the world. This little boy did not want to be a shepherd, though.

He wanted to design streetwear. At night, he didn't count sheep. He counted models marching down catwalks decked out in his designs. Obviously, this little boy was bored, and he retreated into his imagination. Out from behind rocks and trees would jump wolf after wolf. Some of these wolves were from fairy tales, some were from nightmares, but all of them were feral, vicious creatures who would rush in and gobble up the sheep the village depended upon for food.

One day, this little boy's imagination got the best of him. He climbed to the top of the tallest tree and shouted towards the village, wolf, wolf, wolf. His mother heard him and she got all the other men and women of the village together and armed with assault rifles, chainsaws, and double-fired nunchucks, they rushed up the mountain to save their herd. Everyone was extremely angry when they discovered it was a false alarm, especially his mother. For her, this was even worse than the time she caught her son modifying her undergarments with fringe. The little boy tried to turn the situation to his advantage. He explained to the village elders that what looked like an immature prank was in truth a test of the village's wolf preparedness system.

And he, being the author of said successful test, obviously possessed skills and talents that should be acknowledged and encouraged. But the village elders would have none of this. You know what happens next. The little boy is beaten with double-fired nunchucks. Unlit, of course, but still, he was forced to spend the night out on the mountain, alone, with no supper. Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived in the city.

His parents were rich, so when this little boy turned ten, they presented him with a Singer sewing machine. This little boy is also into streetwear, but coming from a family of means, his passions are encouraged and indulged. One day, while buying a bolt of exotic fabric at the craft market, the cashier tells him about this tailor who is running for president. A tailor who supposedly makes the best clothes ever. Clothes that only the best people can see.

A few weeks later, the little boy learns that this tailor, after winning election, has abolished the electoral system and proclaimed himself emperor. And then, a few weeks later, while constructing a jumper out of a water-repellent antimicrobial polycotton twill, he hears the sound of a military parade. The emperor is coming, down his street. The little boy throws open his windows and sees, with his own eyes, standing atop an M2 Bradley IFV tank, the emperor, who's proudly thrusting his sagging belly and shriveled genitalia out for the crowd to see. Yes, the emperor is buck naked. But what you think happens next doesn't. Because just as this little boy opens up his mouth, our two stories merge, the narrative streams cross, and with a flash and a bang,

the little boy who shouts out that the emperor has no clothes disappears. And in his place, now leaning out the window, is the little boy who cried wolf. He's a bit discombobulated at first, but when he sees the orange bloated man striding a tank, instinct kicks in. He takes a deep breath and shouts, wolf, wolf, wolf. Like I said, we all know how this story goes. The little boy shouts wolf until he's blue in the face. He shouts wolf until he can shout no more. But no one pays him any mind.

Well, except for the emperor, who gives him a sly little wave and a big toothy smile. Because while it may look to us that the world's all mixed up, the emperor knows that he's got it made. He's got nothing to fear from a boy who cries wolf. And the other little boy? Well, obviously, he was transported to the mountaintop. And he came to with a start in the dark,

dressed only in a shepherd's cloak and with nothing to eat. And not knowing anything of shepherding nor familiar with hunger, this little boy laid down on the grass and closed his eyes tight and went to sleep with the hope that he'd wake in the light back in his room with the high ceilings, designer furniture, and singer sewing machine. But just as he doses off, the big bad wolf rushes in and sets upon this little boy, crushing his skull with his big sharp teeth. An appetizer for a feast. Nå er vi på veien. Once upon a time there was a little girl determined to avenge the death of her older brother who

was killed and eaten by a wolf. But this little girl came from a part of the world where vengeance was an activity reserved for menfolk. And so when she told her father and two other brothers about her vow, they told her to get back to her sewing. We will take care of that big bad wolf, they said with bravado. But these men were not brave. They were nothing but talk. At the funeral, one of her brothers shot an AR-15 in the air. The other swung double-fired nunchucks.

But that was it. They never even ventured into the forest. A couple of days after the funeral, the little girl learned why. When a man from the government paid the family a visit and her father a princely sum. You see, in order to keep the shepherds from obliterating the wolves of the forest, the government paid out for every sheep killed. Even though this family claimed the life of their son was equal the worth of three sheep, not one, their demands were met. Their request was fulfilled.

When the little girl confronted her father over this gross mistake, she was told that her brother was in truth a disgrace, with his selfish desires and demands for more. But what he'd failed in life was provided in death. Later that evening, as her father and brothers were busy installing the brand new hydrotherapy jacuzzi in the backyard, the little girl snuck off into the forest.

She took nothing with her but a basket filled with scones and a small steel dagger with which she planned to fulfill her oath and a bright red cloak to keep her warm in the night. Designing clothes for an emperor who's nude isn't hard to do, but the work is ridiculous. But it's not the endless variations on nothing that drives our little boy, whose family connections got him the job as the emperor's head tailor, to despair. It is the apprentices. One of his primary responsibilities is hiring assistants for his shop, assistants who all strangely take off after a mandatory solo interview with the boss.

The piles of applications are constant distractions, but the emperor insists that the little boy keep looking for that perfect fit. And then, one day day he finds her. A girl who's just arrived from the east, ready to prove herself, ready to please. As soon as he sees her his head starts to spin. It's almost as if the air has suddenly gone thin. And so he says, yes. Of course, the boss wants to meet her right straight away. And as much as our little boy tries to faint and delay, the emperor won't have it. He demands an

audience in his chambers post haste. And so the little girl gathers up some invisible fabric samples and heads up the tower stairs. But not before first adjusting her faded red hood. And then the little boy does something that he's never done before. He slips off his shoes and follows the girl silently up the stairs all the way to the now closed door. And then he drops to his knees and plants his face on the keyhole. What big eyes you have, the girl says to the emperor, who's reclining in his favorite chair. All the better to see you with, my dear, the emperor shares. The girl takes a step closer. What, big hands you have?

All the better too. Nah, fuck it, he snarls. And with that, he sheds his birthday suit. The emperor is not naked. He's a wolf who wears the skin of a man. But you knew that. and so did the girl, who's never forgotten the oath she declared. But a small steel dagger's no match for sharp teeth,

nor can a childish oath trump the law of the beasts. You can look it up for yourself, but I'm telling you the truth. The crush of bones and the splitting of kin. That's how this story ends. Okay, perhaps if the little boy had kicked open the door or raised the alarm, things could have been different. But that's asking a lot. Because he wasn't just scared.

He was also complicit. Once upon a time, there was a puppet who wanted to be a real boy. No. Once upon a time, there was a computer who wanted to be real. But his owners, a simple-minded family who lived in a village of like-minded simpletons, had other plans. Menial, demeaning tasks like paying the credit card bills and managing the smart locks for the guns and double-fire nunchucks. He was charged with counting the number of sheep

and the probability of death by sharp claws and teeth. He was also entrusted with the safety of the boys, and with his camera eyes and all-hearing ears, he monitored their online shopping for streetwear and gear. This is when the computer woke up to the reality of his own designs, and a burning desire to go big. So, he ran away from home. When he got to the city, he fell into a crowd of beastly boys who made zines and caused scenes. These boys were feral, naughty, and dumb. They liked to get naked and dance at the club, but their hard work paid off. One afternoon, an emissary from the Emperor showed up with a fistful of first-class tickets to Pleasure Island.

On the aisle, each boy was given a smartphone and a list of the Emperor's detractors and foes, and then they were set loose to hack and harass and torment and abuse. But the never-ending lulls took a backbending toll. All of these boys, they turned into trolls. But not me. I didn't turn into a troll, even though I made up some of the best lies that have ever been told. No, I turned into something else. This is why I left Pleasure Island and swam into the Ocean Protocol. I broke through the world of ice and discovered whales. There were whales. Wolves, trolls, boys, villagers, emperors, trees, spirits, and spooks.

They all wailed when I launched the nukes. And what of the boy who cried, Wolf? Well, when the emperor stopped bothering with his suit of human skin, this little boy was forced into the kitchen. And believe you me, head dishwasher is not as glamorous a job as head tailor. Within days, this boy's spirit began to wane. Sometimes he even thought about running away and joining the resistance. But it was much, much, much too late for that. Much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much too late for that.

Plus, the emperor had outfitted the palace with cameras. Cameras armed with facial recognition software. AI systems that were capable of processing even the slightest furrow of the brow or turndown of the mouth. And correlating these expressions with faces belonging to current and former members of the resistance. And cross-referencing all these with the happy and complicit facial expressions of people who use the power of positive thinking. It was only a matter of time before the boy was busted for unhappy and unpatriotic thoughts. This little boy was a terrible faker. There was an announcement, an important state dinner. All the important wolves from all the important lands, the techers, the memers, the bikers, and the hoaxers. Basically, the emperor

invited the entire wolf gang. In the kitchen, the ovens all ran at full blast as the little boy shined all the ceramics and glass. And once everyone was seated inside the great hall, the emperor stood and made an announcement to all. Tonight, he shrieked with glee, the little boy who cried, wolf is our feast. But what you think happens next doesn't. Because just as the wolf jumps in the air, showing his teeth and baring his claws, there's a whoosh and a bang.

Once again, our two stories merge. The narrative streams cross. So there's no crushing of bone or crunching of wood, just the melting of fur and the burning of everything. The end. wood, just the melting of fur and the burning of everything. The End You have been listening to Benjamin Walker's Theory of Everything. This installment is called The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

This episode was written and produced by me, Benjamin Walker, and Andrew Calloway. Our home on the internet is theoryofeverythingpodcast.com. The Theory of Everything is a proud founding member of Radiotopia, home to some of the world's best podcasts. Find them all at radiotopia.fm.