Summary

The article is a whimsical exploration of the concept of freedom, using absurd humor and the metaphor of a horse to discuss personal liberties and the nature of free will.

Abstract

The author of the article muses on the meaning of freedom by engaging in a playful and nonsensical narrative. Beginning with an attention-grabbing non sequitur about potato underpants, the writer ponders the absurdity of offending someone by calling their mother a horse, which leads to a humorous examination of horses' limitations in reading, writing, and exercising free will. The article veers into a stream-of-consciousness about the freedom of being a horse, the joy of transforming into various animals, and the ultimate desire to embody elements of nature and emotion. The piece concludes with a deliberate paragraph of gibberish, challenging the reader's expectation for a conventional summary and reinforcing the author's freedom to write without constraints.

Opinions

The author suggests that true freedom includes the ability to write without censorship or offense, as long as it doesn't involve criminal activity.
There is a humorous implication that horses, being physically unable to engage in human activities like typing or reading, lack certain freedoms.
The article playfully questions whether animals, specifically horses, have free will or the capacity to make choices.
By deleting the initial draft of the article, the author demonstrates their freedom to create and discard ideas at will.
The author entertains the idea that freedom might involve the ability to do both good and bad things, and whether the capacity for choice is a form of freedom.
The conclusion of the article, with its intentional nonsense, reflects the author's view that freedom in writing can mean defying conventional expectations and embracing absurdity.

What Does ‘Freedom’ Mean to Me? Writing Silly Nonsense, Stupid Horse Face

Whilst in mid-gallop, as I reach a cliff edge, I would like to take flight and glide majestically over the fields and lakes below

Potato underpants treetop river gusset. That sentence made no sense, but it got your attention, right? And I was completely free to write it. OR WAS I?

Related article: Do We Have Free Will? Almost Certainly Not

Anyway, I’m writing this in response to the writing prompt “What does ‘freedom’ mean to you?”

I started my first draft by doing a brain dump of my initial thoughts about freedom. Then I wanted to spice it up a bit by going a bit crazy. After all, I am free to write whatever I want on Medium as long as I don’t commit any crimes or say anything offensive.

I mean, I could say “your mother is a horse.” You can’t really be offended because:

I don’t know you.
It doesn’t make any sense.

If she was a horse, that would mean you’re a horse too, and how can a horse type with hooves? Even with voice recognition software, all you’d get is “Neigh neigh neigh…”

Even if a horse wanted to just read Medium articles without writing, that would be impossible. To control a device with voice recognition requires clear commands, not just horse noises. And can horses even read?

I suppose horses aren’t free. They are stuck with hooves that can’t type, mouths that can’t speak, and eyes that can’t read words. Where’s the fun in that?

But they probably don’t have any insight into their limitations. Or perhaps they do? Maybe that’s a topic for another article: Do Horses Know They Can’t Read and Write?

(Don’t you dare steal that idea! If you do, I will hunt you down and tickle you until you lose bladder control.)

Anyway, I suppose there is one scenario in which your mother could be a horse. Maybe she’s not your birth mother. Perhaps you were adopted by a horse. But that seems unlikely.

Why the hell have I written so many words about horses?!

Was I free to do that? Or was I at the mercy of my own insanely obsessive stream-of-consciousness thoughts? And surely those thoughts were determined by my desire to spice up what seemed like a boring article about freedom?

I have deleted all the text from my first draft because it was boring. I was free to do that. Nobody held a gun to my head and said “keep your first draft or I will kill you”.

But back to horses. Would I feel freer if I was a horse? Perhaps, if I wasn’t kept in a field and forced to have a human sit on my back and direct me where to walk. If I was free to run around open hillsides with the wind in my hair.

Free to take a shit in the open and not bother to wipe afterward. Or forced to do so because of physical limitations? You can’t hold toilet paper with hooves.

But really, it would be good to be able to change into different animals. Whilst in mid-gallop, as I reach a cliff edge, I would like to take flight and glide majestically over the fields and lakes below.

Then I would like to be able to dive into a lake and swim all the way to the bottom without drowning. I could lie on the lake bed and look up at the rippling surface. Have an underwater conversation with a friendly shark. That’s a point, do sharks swim in lakes? I don’t know. It’s not important, but then none of this is.

But ultimately, I would like to be the sky itself. Or the color orange. The deep orangey-red of a sunset, with silhouettes of dolphins that can fly.

Or water flowing over stones in a forest.

Or love itself. Just pure emotional bliss.

But, although these things are lovely, are they freedom? Doesn’t freedom include also being free to do bad or painful things? If a horse had wings, would it be free to not use those wings and just jump off the cliff? Do horses have free will?

I think maybe I should follow that thought up in another article titled: Do Horses Make Choices?

Anyway, how shall I end this article? With a helpful summary of the main points? Nah, that would be boring. Instead, I would like to end with a paragraph of complete and utter nonsense. Shut up, you can’t stop me! You can’t even stop yourself from reading it. Admit it, you’re curious, right?

(Read it out loud.)

Onesy pony thyme dare wars a man called Thomas who leaf dinner hows wither udder man all soak oared Thomas. Day hay titted E shudder, sew Dane evers poke chew wheat udder undress day wheelie had two. Wanna them had a horse call Deadwood, and hero dim oar loaf udder plays, evened urine the night whale udder peep hole wir ass leap.

The end.