copyright © 2003 by Robert L. Blau

Cicero tells the story of Dionysius, the 4th Century A.D. tyrant of  Syracuse, and Damocles, one of the court sycophants.  Damocles believes Dionysius to be the happiest of people.  Dionysius, on the other hand, is constantly in fear of assassins. He offers to change places with Damocles for one day.  Dionysius has a sword hung by a thread over Damocles' head while he is feasting.  Noticing the hanging sword, Damocles loses his appetite, asks to be excused, and realizes that a tyrant's life isn't a bed of roses.  It's a "walk a mile in someone else's moccasins" story.  What follows may be a little different...

    Dionysius the tyrant was just sitting down to breakfast when his toady Damocles walked in.
    "My, you're looking mighty this morning, Your Majesty," fawned Damocles.
    "Yeah, yeah," said the tyrant. "And how's my toady today?"
    "Splendid," said the sycophant. "Though not, of course, as splendid as you."
    "So, how did the Orangemen* do last night?"
    "Um, lost to Miami, I'm afraid," said Damocles.
    "Dang!  Again?" fumed the tyrant. "This will never happen in Jim Brown's day!"
    It was then that Damocles noticed the sword.  It was hanging by a thread, twisting slowly over the tyrant's head.
    "Yikes!" cried the toady. "There's a s..."
    "Uh, uh, uh!" cautioned the tyrant. "Don't say it!"
    "But, over your head, my Liege!  There's a s..."
    "Don't say the S-word!" warned the tyrant. "I know all about it!  My enemies have done this, and I've already taken care of it."
    "You ... you have?  Oh, I should have known someone as brilliant as you would have this thing figured out.  Um, how have you taken care of it?"
    "I've sent my armies out to conquer all the neighboring tyrantdoms!"
    Damocles thought about that for a minute.  "So, all of them hung that s... that thing there?"
    "Sure!" declared the tyrant. "I have indisputable evidence!  I have eye witnesses!  I have documentation!  Anyway, it might be one of them."
    "But Your Tyrantness," objected Damocles, "couldn't it be someone here at the palace?"
    "Shut up shut up shut up!" roared the tyrant.
    "What did I say, Light of the Tyrantdom?" groveled Damocles.
    "I'm gonna cut you some slack here because you've been such a good sycophant," said Dionysius, "but here's the deal.  My enemies have hung that ... thing over my head.  If you talk about it, that's like saying you support them!"
    "No!  No!" chirped Damocles quickly.
    "Are you contradicting me?" barked the tyrant.
    "No, sir!" piped Damocles. "I mean, I don't support your enemies!"
    At that point, Damocles noticed a man with an armful of swords and a ball of thread sauntering through the Great Hall.  Every so often, the guy would stop and hang a sword strategically over a chair or couch.
    "Um, My Lord," stammered Damocles. "There's a guy going around hanging s..."
    "Don't say the S-word!" the tyrant reminded him.
    "But I think this is your guy," Damocles persisted. "He's hanging ... them all over.  I'm just trying to warn you!"
    "Are you saying this is my fault?" objected the tyrant. "Look, I have everything figured out.  Don't try to confuse me with unauthorized facts!"
    "Uh, no!  No!" said Damocles quickly. "I'm just telling you that there's a guy with s... uh, sharp implements and thread right over there!"
    "Aid and comfort to the enemy!" snapped Dionysius.
    "Well, off to the bedroom," mumbled the guy with the swords. "One or two there.  Maybe another in the bathroom..."
    "Your... your Majesty," sputtered Damocles. "Did you hear that?  He's taking swords to your bedroom!"
    "Guards!  Guards!" cried the tyrant.
    "Ah, at last!" sighed the toady. "They'll arrest that thug, and my Lord and the tyrantdom will be safe again!"
    "Not him," corrected the tyrant, as the guards seized Damocles. "You!  Saying the word is the same as condoning the act!"
   
*You see, he was the tyrant of Syracuse.