Lola: Inspect the painting.

To most people, such a display of obscene wealth and pride would be naught but lavishly overcompensating. Be it for wounded self-worth, or downtrodden ego, or both. To wrap oneself in such utter shamelessness is tantamount to bearing one's very soul to the world. Your Overseer, however, could coat the very ground he walks on in gold, and his radiance would still be unfairly undermined.

You remember the exact meeting that was had over this piece. Your Overseer barked orders at the painter to depict him with a certain je ne sais quoi. An ineffable quality that could not be fully described in lexicon. One that belonged to the realm of qualia, rather than that of words and symbols.

Despite world-renowned skill, it remained nothing more than peasantry attempting to fulfill a lordly desire that could never be sated. But the painting was hung still.