 I have considered the impudent accusations of Mr Dawkins with exasperation at his lack of serious scholarship. He has apparently not read the detailed discourses of Count Rodrigo of Seville on the exquisite and exotic leathers of the emperor's boots, nor does he give a moment's consideration to Bellini's masterwork on the luminescence of the emperor's feathered hat. We have entire schools dedicated to writing learned treaties on the beauty of the emperor's reinement, and every major newspaper runs a section dedicated to imperial fashion. Dawkins cavalierly dismisses them all. He even laughs at the highly popular and most persuasive arguments of his fellow countrymen, Lord D. T. Mock Scribbler, who famously pointed out that the emperor would not wear common cotton nor uncomfortable polyester, but must, I say, must wear undergarments of the finest silk. Dawkins arrogantly ignores all these deep philosophical pondrings to crudely accuse the emperor of nudity. Personally, I suspect that perhaps the emperor might not be fully clothed, how else to explain the apparent sloth of the staff at the palace laundry. But well, everyone else does seem to go on about his clothes, and this Dawkins fellow is such a rude upstart who lacks the wit of my elegant circumcisions that while unable to deal with the substance of his accusations, I should at least chide him for his very bad form. Until Dawkins has trained the shops of Paris and Milan, until he has learned to tell the difference between a ruffled flounce and a puffy pantaloon, we should all pretend that he has not spoken out against the emperor's taste. His training in biology may give him the ability to recognize dangling genitalia when he sees it, but it has not taught him the proper appreciation of imaginary fabrics. Thanks for watching.