An Open Resignation Letter To Modern Humanity
It’s high time this OG high horse hightailed it to greener pastures.
Dear modern humanity,
Please accept this open letter as a formal resignation notice from my position as the original high horse, effective immediately.
After careful consideration, and centuries of service to people in positions of wealth and power, my back has finally broken under the weight of the new world: where everyone’s voices must be heard at any cost, and anyone with an opinion (however ill-informed or irrational) feels the need to hop up on me and go to town.
I daresay, I knew things were getting a little out of control in the 1940s, but the last few years have REALLY put me over the edge. Simply put, I am really f***ing tired. Tired of telling people to get off of me, tired of imposter high horses prancing around like they know anything about anything, and, generally speaking, tired of all the bad press.
Being the high horse used to signify prestige and carry with it a sense of honor, but its current lack of exclusivity no longer appeals to someone with my sensibilities. In other words, it’s high time this high horse hightailed it to greener pastures.
But don’t get me wrong; I will be forever grateful for the opportunities afforded to me. What more could a horse ask for, really? From toting the Pope around in the Middle Ages to being the official horse of the French Revolution, my time as the original high horse was filled with experiences I’ll never forget.
In particular, I remember carrying American president Abraham Lincoln (he was VERY tall, hence my involvement) to the site where he issued the emancipation proclamation. You should have seen the crowds! Then, there was that time when Frida Kahlo summoned me for one of her famous self portraits. Imagine me, featured in a painting by a popular, femme fatale, Mexican artist. Albeit, she was a communist (not exactly my cup of tea), but I was willing to overlook certain things in the name of cultural advancement!
Those were the good old days, and how I long for them. Now, the literal function of being a high horse has been reduced to some sort of idiom having to do with toplofty, bloviating, intellectual neophytes spouting off personal opinions about this or that.
Well, kind sirs and madams, I finally have to put my hoof down!
In doing so, I hope to pave the way for other horses who are perhaps better suited to take my place.
For example, the workhorse is likely equipped to handle the increased traffic; or the circus pony — so cute and sweet — may have a more welcoming attitude toward basically anyone with a half-baked opinion jumping on its little back. After all, their experience of giving children’s rides puts them in an entirely different tolerance category. God bless their hearts.
If I can be of any assistance during this transition of passing responsibilities to my successor, please let me know. Although, I would suggest you make haste, as I intend to get the hell out of here as quickly as a high horse can.
Sincerely,
Archibald Higgenbottom, aka the “OG High Horse”
This piece originally appeared in the satire publication Open Letters To on Medium.
If you’re curious about etymology of “high horse” —take a look here.