Freedom is one of those concepts which everyone presumes to understand, but which nobody seems to be able to precisely define, at least not to everyone else’s satisfaction. Especially in times of unrest, it seems, freedom is invoked at every advantageous opportunity ... we’re fighting throughout the world for freedom ... those in control of the national machinery have freedom at the heart of their selfless and heroic efforts ... we can rest assured that there’s more freedom here in America than anywhere else on the planet ... this is the land of the free and the home of the brave, and so on. Are these assertions true? Should we blindly accept them at face value because it may be politically incorrect to question them, or is there something of a sinister, cynical deception lurking beneath the bravado? If I am free, why do I need anyone’s permission to do anything? Yet I do. Freedom is fundamentally basic to our time here as humans on the planet, and to how we spend that time, but freedom has also become one of those catch-phrases that interested (read: invested) politicians loudly claim they are willing to have someone else die for. Or kill for.
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