At the foot of Mount Bedisa, there was a small forest where there lived animals
of all types. One of which was a hare. Being one of, if not the fastest animal
in a forest that coveted speed, the Hare was by far one of the most successful and popular.
One of the least was the Tortoise. He was not fast, successful, or very popular at all.
Overtime, the Hare’s success and popularity had caused him to become incredibly arrogant,
and he was often harsh and contemptuous toward other animals—especially the Tortoise. He
often scolded and ridiculed the Tortoise whenever he saw him, saying things like,
“Why don’t you get off your ass and actually get something done?!” Or,
“The truth is you’re just lazy! The forest doesn’t owe you anything! If you want to be fast,
you have to work for it! That’s what I did!” Or, “Look at you. It seems like nobody wants
to be fast these days! Why don’t you pull yourself up by your paw claws and get moving!”
The Tortoise was mostly unphased by this sort of stuff, but it did mildly annoy
him—especially whenever he saw the Hare saying the same sorts of things to other animals.
One day, the Tortoise had enough when he saw the Hare lecturing a porcupine about
how other animals never got close with him because of his horrible attitude.
The Hare loved to race. Everyone knew this. He regularly challenged other animals,
and he always won. Any chance he had to prove and perform his superiority, he happily indulged.
On this day, however, the Tortoise challenged the Hare.
The Hare was dumbfounded. “You want to race me?!” the
Hare said, laughing profusely. “Yeah,” the Tortious said back
with a straight face. After some more laughter,
the Hare, of course, agreed, and the event was planned for that evening.
The Fox and some of the other animals began preparing and clearing the race path. The Tortoise
and the Hare waited by the starting line. After a few more moments passed,
the Tortoise looked at the Hare and said, “Say, how did you get so fast, anyway?”
The Hare looked at the Tortious with a confused look on his face.
“Because unlike most animals, I actually put in the work. I run almost every day.”
“Hmm,” said the Tortoise. “Why do you do that?” The Hare paused for a moment.
”Because … Because I understand the value of hard work and being fast.
And I’m diligent and disciplined about it!“ “Wow,” said the Tortoise, pausing for a moment.
“How do you understand all that, though?” “Why are you asking stupid questions?” the
Hare quickly said, slightly annoyed. “You know you can’t suddenly become
faster by asking questions, right?” “I’m just interested in your story,
is all,” the Tortoise assured the Hare. The Hare never gave up a chance to stroke
his own ego, and so, he quickly continued, “Ok, well, I guess that’s just the way I am
and how my brain works. I also learned it from my parents. My dad was fast—not as fast as me, but he
taught from a young age the importance of being fast and how you have to make sacrifices to get
faster and faster. He taught me self-discipline and focus … gave me my work ethic. He worked so
hard to make sure I had as many opportunities as possible to practice and get better.”
“Hmm,” said the Tortious. “What made him do all that, do you think? How was he even able to?”
“Well, because he worked hard too and made a bunch of sacrifices himself … to become as fast
as he could and live a life that allowed him to spend time teaching me those same lessons!”
“Wow,” said the Tortoise. “But what made him that way?”
“I don’t know! His dad.” “What about him?” replied the Tortious.
“What about him?!” “What made him that way?”
“I don’t know … his genes, being a hare, being a hare during a time when those
sorts of things were necessary for survival.” The Hare paused. The two were quiet for a moment.
“Well, if he was like that because he was a hare, and a hare during that time, what made him
a hare during that time?” the Tortoise asked. “Holy shit,” the Hare said before answering.
For ten more minutes, the Tortious continued asking the Hare questions, prodding further
and further into the past, deeper and deeper into the explanation of the Hare’s speed.
Finally, the hare reached the beginning of everything,
with no more causes and no more explanations left. “So,” said the Tortoise, “you’re fast because you
were born a hare, a particular kind of hare, and experienced a particular kind of life, but that’s
only because of your parents, how your parents’ lives were, and where and when they had you,
but all that was only because of their parents and how they were, and where and when they were,
all the way back to the first hares in history. But there are only hares in history at all because
life operates through … evolution … and ancient lagomorphs mated and created the first hares, but
that only happened because life started at all, which only happened because the right conditions
developed on Earth, but of course Earth only came to exist because of billions of years of prior
cosmic events, which all only happened because the big bang occurred and time and space unfolded in a
particular manner. So I guess technically, you’re fast because the big bang occurred and time and
space unfolded in a particular manner. Huh.” The Hare stared at the ground with widened
eyes and tensed muscles throughout his body and face. He was confused,
but not because he didn’t understand. “What … what about me, though?” the Hare said,
looking up, trying to hold onto his lifetime worth delusions. “Of course,
I made the difference! I choose to do what I did with everything that’s happened to me!”
“How?” replied the Tortoise. “How, if you didn’t choose anything that’s
happened to you, did you choose that?” “Freewill?” the Hare said, less confidently.
“It’s one of the main things that makes us hares different from everything else!”
“Ok. But if everything that has happened to you made you who you are, but you didn’t control or
choose any of what happened to you, how do you control who you are?” the Tortoise responded.
The Hare fell backwards onto his back, laying in the grass.
Soon, the Fox reemerged from the now-cleared race path. He approached the Hare and Tortious
and got into position. He counted down.
The Tortoise took off. The Hare stayed laying in the grass.
“What are you doing?!” the Fox yelled. “The race started! Get up!”
The Hare didn’t say anything, rolling over onto his side.
Slowly but steadily, the Tortoise made his way down the race path,
and eventually, past the finish line, winning the race.
After a celebration with some of the other animals, the tortoise returned to the starting
line. The Hare was lying flat on his back, looking up at the sky. The Tortoise approached him.
“I don’t understand,” the Hare said without moving his body.
“What?” replied the Tortoise. “Why did you even challenge me to the race? Isn’t
it all pointless? Win or lose, it wasn’t really because of you—at least not in the way that it
feels like it is. It’s basically all just because of arbitrary chance. I’m fast because I’m lucky.”
The Hare rolled over onto his side. The Tortoise moved a bit closer, feeling a little bad for him.
“Yes, all that’s true,” said the Tortoise. “Being fast, smart, successful, is not just hard work,
even if it’s directly a product of hard work. It’s chance. Even being someone who works hard is
itself a product of chance. But working hard and doing what your meant to do is still necessary.
You still have to run to be fast. And being fast is still useful.
We’re all just pawns in the universe’s sick game, tricked into carrying out its grunt work. When you
don’t realize this, you act like a real peacock. But it’s a useful delusion to believe that you are
in control of your life. You have to know that you have no freewill but live as if you do,”
the Tortoise concluded. The Hare lay in silence for a moment.
Then, he jumped back up to his feet. “Alright. Rematch then!” the Hare said.