Heavy lies the head that wears, or wants to wear the crown. Being in a position of leadership is the ultimate paradox of naked strength. One is visible, vulnerable to attack, and expected to function in a manner beyond reproachability. We build idols out of flesh only to topple and deride them for bleeding. We want perfection out of others, but will scratch, taunt, and torment them in desperate efforts to justify our own feet of clay. Why?