In the dying years of imperial Russia, the tsar’s family was beset by concerns for their little boy. Tsarevich Alexei suffered from hemophilia, the “royal disease,” at a time when there was no treatment. The empress, Alexandra, was particularly distraught. In her desperation for help from any quarter, she fell victim to the wiles of the Russian mystic and faith healer Rasputin.

This pseudo-cleric averred that he could control the child’s illness. In fact, he did seem to have some marginal soothing effect on Alexei’s agonies. In a twinkling, Rasputin became a constant denizen of the royal palace and, in the tsarina’s eyes, indispensable to the well-being of her son. He also seems to have wielded influence over the tsar.

When Elon Musk, earlier known only as a wealthy, if visionary, businessman, became ubiquitous on the White House scene, the one name that occurred to me was Rasputin.

Just as the “mad monk” had had a seductive, almost hypnotic, effect on Alexandra, so Musk has utterly mesmerized Donald Trump. His “stable genius” seems to offer no bulwark against the influence of a tech billionaire who, like Rasputin, emerged from the shadows in an almost mystical fashion. And like Rasputin, Musk has become a sort of succubus, whispering controlling directives in the ear of a president who falsely believes himself to have absolute authority over the affairs of state. The reality is that the president, like the tsar before him, has become a victim of circumstances rather than their controlling master.

There is another similarity between Rasputin and Musk. In the case of the former, the tsar’s court, not to mention the vast body of the peasantry, came to resent Rasputin’s arrogant meddling and the influence he asserted over the royal government. Their indignation led to a gruesome end for Rasputin.

By comparison, the American peasantry is growing restless with the unelected Musk appropriating the Oval Office for press conferences and, together with his adolescent acolytes, probing the most intimate data details of the voting public. Like Rasputin, Musk’s mantra seems to echo Trump’s infamous “Only I can fix it,” and the masses are champing at the bit for their representatives to do their duty and rein Musk in.

Americans have reason to be outraged. As Musk slashes and burns his way through the institutions that keep the republic’s cogs and wheels turning, it is inevitable that people will be hurt. It may begin with a late Social Security check, or the denial of a Medicare reimbursement, or the failure to respond to a natural catastrophe for want of personnel and funding.

It’s like a game of Jenga, where, one by one, pieces are removed from a tower of wooden blocks to see how much the tower can endure before it collapses. There’s one difference. In Jenga, the removed blocks are placed on top of the tower. In the case of Musk’s reckless bulldozing of the republic’s institutions, he is simply taking and putting nothing back.

Of course, it’s also possible that public outrage will come to nothing. After all, there would be no Elon Musk in the White House if Americans didn’t have a fetish about the uber-rich, equating wealth with wisdom.

Rasputin met his cruel end when the masses had had enough of him. It’s interesting to speculate how the end will come for Musk. Maybe it will have nothing to do with the masses. So long as Musk has money, the electorate may assume he knows what he’s doing.

I find myself on the side of those observers who understand Trump’s transparent personality. His need to be the center of attention brooks no competition. The Oval Office is simply not big enough to accommodate two colossal egos. One of the sociopaths will have to go.

I wonder who it will be.