Young Oliver had a dog at home named Grumpy. Grumpy was fiercely loyal to him. He licked Oliver’s boots, guarded him like a tiny, furry bodyguard, and barked or even attack at anyone who dared to approach him. No matter what, whether they were a threat or just the postman doing his job, Grumpy was always ready to do his job. He was dear to the whole family. But dogs, unlike certain kinds of loyalty, don’t last forever. One day, Grumpy took his final breath, leaving young Oliver sobbing as the little defender was lowered into his grave.

Oliver grew up. And somewhere between childhood tears and adult ambition, he discovered politics as a field where loyalty can be purchased in bulk. He became a powerful orator, gathered a devoted crowd and soon marched his way into parliament. Eventually, he rose to the presidency of his country. His rule was “firm,” though critics preferred words like authoritarian, corrupt, manipulative and criminal. But none of that mattered, because Oliver had something far more durable than truth. He had supporters who would defend him even if the evidence danced naked in front of them holding a neon sign.

He tamed the media too. It became his obedient pet, dedicated for fetching praise, burying criticism and wagging its tail on command. Its job was simple – to polish Oliver’s image until it gleamed like a freshly waxed statue. And his loyalists? They barked, growled and licked his boots with a dedication that would have made the original Grumpy proud.

In short, Oliver lost one loyal pet as a child. Now he commands an entire kennel of them. Now he has an army of Grumpys who are louder, more obedient and far more useful. He buried one dog, but gained a whole pack.

Thanks!