Clumsy freedom

Author: Li Fang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-01-01
Features: ZQOnline has a very popular forum, where the forum has a very eloquent moderator. The moderator published a cool-looking book with a nostalgic-sounding title—Awkward Freedom. Everything is related to Li Fang. This mild-mannered anomaly is always pursuing unrestrained expression, refusing to be categorized, claiming to have classical liberal tendencies, and being quite knowledgeable in various fields. His friends call him "knowing the stars and the earth," while he self-deprecatingly says, "not good at getting along with people." The book collects the essence of online content, worth reading. Gu Cheng once said: "I want to draw awkward freedom on white paper and eyes that don’t cry." The sudden arrival of freedom leaves one bewildered. That was still in high school, over a decade ago, when we suddenly found that we didn’t have to do group dances anymore and could instead do something called disco. We knew freedom had arrived. But how do you dance disco? No one in the class knew, nor did anyone dare to admit they didn’t know, and no one openly shared tips. Indeed, when freedom comes, who would dare to say they don’t understand what freedom is? I’m sure many classmates secretly practiced at home, because I did too. My understanding of disco was simply that it was a twisting buttock exercise for long-haired youth in bell-bottom pants. That understanding wasn’t wrong, but unfortunately, my buttocks, aside from being a tight bond between father and son since childhood, had received no other training. So when I saw the buttocks in the mirror twisting like an animated character, I almost cried. I didn’t want to be embarrassed, didn’t want the classmates to say, "Look, this guy can’t even dance his buttocks properly—what’s he going to be called a modern youth?" At that age, I didn’t really care about how my buttocks looked, but I cared about whether I was a modern youth. However, what was frustrating was that for modern youth of that era, buttocks seemed to matter more than brains. We had already agreed that after the New Year class meeting, we would go to Tiananmen Square to dance disco. That was our self-proclaimed coming-of-age ceremony. A girl who was the first to show foreign influence agreed to provide a brick. Seriously, it was the first time in my life that I carefully examined my buttocks in the mirror, not my face. But that damn buttocks was almost like someone else’s, or like a borrowed one, completely out of control. It was always moved by an uncontrollable force to unexpected positions, then moved along trajectories that could only be calculated with functions to another unimaginable location. In short, studying the movement of that buttocks could easily become a doctoral thesis in mathematics. But my math was always terrible, so I could imagine I couldn’t tame that buttocks. Even worse, at that time, my home didn’t have a recording machine, so I had to accompany with my mouth, but the movement of the buttocks completely disrupted the rhythm of my drumming. It was a mess. I was about to give up, ready to appear with an awkward buttocks at midnight on Tiananmen Square. So we finally arrived at Tiananmen Square. It was midnight on December 31, 1985. We stood in a conspicuous spot on the square with the spirit of foolish boys sleeping on cold beds, turned on the brick, and then looked at each other with a sacred expression. This was a very symbolic scene—the freedom we had longed for had finally arrived. Later, I read many books and found that everyone’s reaction to the sudden arrival of freedom was actually very similar. The music attracted several groups of night-crawling university students. These strangers, due to their actions at the time, will earn my lifelong respect. If it had been a group of delinquents, I can imagine what would have happened to our self-proclaimed coming-of-age ceremony. Fortunately, they were university students. They didn’t laugh or jeer, nor did they watch coldly; instead, they said, "Let’s dance together," and joined our circle. Soon, a few of the most outstanding and lively girls in the class started dancing. Those were truly unforgettable beautiful figures, shy, with a hint of hesitation. Their dance moves were so thin under the light, as if snowflakes were falling. The boys finally started to stir, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Because we clearly saw that our buttocks had been taken over by others without exception. We had to admit that the issue of buttock ownership dominated the atmosphere of that outdoor dance for a long time. Fortunately, we didn’t see a single face with malicious glee. As the buttocks gradually returned to their rightful owners, we finally realized that our own world was starting to take shape. Was that freedom? Maybe. Awkward freedom. In fact, my buttocks had always been uncooperative. And because of this, I came to believe a saying: Buttocks determine the brain. At least in our pursuit of freedom, it undeniably proved its truth. Later, I went to disco clubs many times, but the problem with my buttocks was never resolved. Until one day, I was staring at the lead dancer on stage and suddenly realized that the problem with my buttocks was a false issue. Dancing disco was essentially a waist problem. And by then, I no longer cared about distinguishing between the waist and the buttocks. Li Zongsheng said, "Youth is a long wind," but I’d rather think that youth is forever not understanding your own buttocks. When you finally get a handle on your buttocks, time has almost caught up with you. At that point, you claim to start thinking with your brain, start thinking rationally; but awkward freedom has already been blown away by the wind.