The Immortal Gazette Presents: The Stoic Emperor: Gaslighting the Masses
The usual banter was thick in the Immortal Gazette studio, where the team was gathered for the latest installment. The air smelled faintly of Alice’s ever-present tea, and a soft hum of magic hovered as Loki twirled an enchanted quill between his fingers. Rumplestiltskin, ever the reluctant participant, was already eyeing the clock as though his patience were about to wear thin—more so than usual.
“Alright,” Alice said, taking a deep sip from her teacup, setting it down with a gentle clink. “Today’s story is not about some poor tragic hero or lovesick fool. We’re diving into something a little more… real.” She smiled slyly, her eyes flickering between Loki and Rumple, who both looked somewhat intrigued.
“Ah, I see where this is going,” Loki said with an easy smirk, folding his arms over his chest. “We’re getting into the ‘philosophers’ who made everyone else suffer club, aren’t we?”
Rumple rolled his eyes but gave a resigned nod. “Sure. Let’s hear what fresh nonsense you’ve cooked up today, Alice.”
Alice leaned in, her eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and sarcasm. “Let me tell you about Marcus Aurelius. The so-called philosopher-king who thought his brand of stoicism was the cure-all for the world’s ills—especially when it came to suffering. Let’s see how well it holds up when you really take a look at the man.”
Loki tilted his head, raising a brow. “Marcus Aurelius, the Emperor of Rome? The same one who liked to tell everyone how to deal with hardship from the comfort of his cushy throne?”
Alice’s grin only widened. “Oh yes. That one. Let’s get into it.”
The Story: Marcus Aurelius – The Emperor’s Gaslight
It was the year 161 CE, and the grand imperial city of Rome was as decadent as it was brutal. Emperors lived in lavish palaces, and the streets echoed with the cries of those who lived under the empire’s unforgiving rule. Behind towering walls of marble, glittering with gold leaf, Marcus Aurelius—emperor, philosopher, and author of Meditations—sat on his plush velvet throne. The gilded cage around him was perfect for someone who would later be hailed as one of the great philosophers of the age.
“Now, to truly understand what this man was about,” Alice began, her voice smooth and deliberate as she described the opulence surrounding the emperor, “let’s start with the basics. Marcus Aurelius wasn’t just some scholar or a poet lost in thought. Oh no. He was the ruler of the Roman Empire, the most powerful empire in the world at the time. His rule saw not just wealth and prosperity for some, but absolute brutality for millions—especially those who had the unfortunate luck of being born into the system as slaves.”
Loki laughed bitterly. “Meditations wasn’t a book of enlightenment—it was a manual for keeping the peasants quiet while they were buried under the crushing weight of taxes, war, and disease. ’Endure, and accept your fate.’ How convenient.”
“Exactly,” Alice continued, leaning back in her chair with a knowing glance at Rumple, who was already looking a little too comfortable with the premise. “Aurelius wrote Meditations during his campaigns, essentially keeping a record of his thoughts and philosophical musings. But this wasn’t a man who spent his days meditating by a quiet river or in a mountaintop retreat. He was on the battlefield, fighting against the Germanic tribes, dealing with revolts, plagues, and, oh yes, holding onto absolute power while sitting in a palace drinking imported wine.”
Rumple snorted. “Talk about hypocrisy. Preach about virtue from the safety of your ivory tower.”
Loki chuckled darkly, flipping the quill in his fingers again. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? Marcus Aurelius wasn’t just asking his people to endure, he was telling them that suffering was an intrinsic part of life. That it was good for the soul. His philosophy, as it were, was this endless cycle of you’re suffering? Good, that’s part of the divine plan—now get back to it.”
Alice shook her head. “Exactly. He tells the masses, ‘Accept your fate,’ and the suffering, the hardship, the endless war—that was the key to finding inner peace. But guess who didn’t have to deal with the brutal grind of everyday life? Guess who got to sip wine, eat lavish meals, and lounge in a palace while millions of his subjects lived and died in squalor?”
Rumple leaned forward, his eyes glinting as he spoke. “I do wonder if he ever truly believed it, or if it was just a convenient narrative to keep his empire under control. Telling everyone that suffering was ‘good for the soul’ while ensuring they had no means to rise above it. He could just… look down from his perch, claiming that all the pain they were enduring was somehow part of a higher purpose. Classic gaslighting, if you ask me.”
Loki’s grin returned, sharp as ever. “It’s not even the concept of stoicism that’s the issue—it’s the way he used it to twist and control. If you can convince a man that his suffering has meaning, he’ll never question why the empire he’s living under is treating him like an animal. Rome, burning in flames, was still under Marcus’s control. He told people: don’t resist the pain of your existence. But I guarantee, he didn’t have to sit in the mud and accept that pain. He was the one sending them to fight his wars. What a joke.”
The Real Gaslight of Stoicism
Alice paused, letting the weight of their words settle into the air, the scalding irony of the whole thing hanging like a storm cloud. “So, what’s the endgame here? What’s the purpose of telling everyone they must accept their suffering, that it’s good for them, that it makes them stronger? Meanwhile, you’re sitting in your gilded cage, writing philosophy books. The ultimate hypocrisy. Marcus Aurelius used stoicism as a psychological leash, one that kept the masses quiet, compliant, and obedient—while the power structure stayed firmly in place.”
Rumple sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And yet, people still quote Meditations like it’s some holy text, don’t they? Virtue is the highest good. Resist emotion, accept the universe’s will… It’s like a wolf preaching to sheep about how to survive in the wild—completely out of touch with the reality of the situation.”
Alice gave a sly smile. “And if anyone else had written it, maybe it would’ve been inspiring. But coming from him? The ruler of the most oppressive empire in history? It’s like listening to the ultimate gaslighting manifesto wrapped in poetry.”
Loki’s eyes gleamed, a devilish smile curling his lips. “Tell them, Alice. Tell them how wonderful stoicism is when you’re not the one getting crushed beneath it.”
Rumple stood, shaking his head, a little too tired for this nonsense. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve made our point. But at the end of the day, Marcus Aurelius lived in a world of contradiction and hypocrisy, spinning beautiful words while maintaining a system that depended on the suffering of others.”
Alice rose from her seat with a flourish, the final word in her voice. “Exactly. In the end, Marcus Aurelius was a master of gaslighting—but instead of recognizing it, we all just turned his words into timeless philosophy. And there it is—the real tragedy.”
Rumplestiltskin: sighs dramatically “And now I’m going to go throw my coffee cup against the wall. Wonderful.”
Loki: “Please do, Rumple. The theatrics will be much appreciated.”
Alice: smirking “Oh, do throw it, Rumple. You’ve earned the drama.”
With that, the Immortal Gazette studio was filled with a momentary silence before the chaotic laughter took over, and the team prepared for the next scandalous story.
