An obese woman permanently expels humans. Their progeny are destined to reproduce because they have sufficient resources to do so. It is the mother who does not stop giving birth. It is the mother who is only mother. She is the one who, tied up, is fed so that she can conceive all the time. Sophisticated machines, cars, are also born from it. Don’t ask how. This was the nightmare. Or this is the nightmare of the contemporary industrialized world.
Who, if not the human being, is the source of the machinery that illuminates, opens the way to science and health, or that obscures, accumulates weapons and then disposes them as something that sprouts, like that, alone, as if from nowhere.
Aldous Huxley thought, and that is the core of his novel “A happy world”, that humanity, connected to the mass media, with carnality also listed in images or services, has no way of knowing itself outside of a freedom that it no longer knows how to use or face.
Well, what is freedom, if not the act of tossing a coin – in the best of senses – and opening up to the unknown that can happen the next day. This would make it possible to interact to find the various fruits of a factual truth, which is not a philosophical one, since it is said that it does not exist.
Huxley was a refined intellectual, and also, among other things, a poet, who adds in his verses, seismic reflections of the urbanized world. Here is a Spanish version of the poem Tinieblas: “My walled-in soul has never known / darkness so intimate, dazzling landscape, / like the blind spot, from which visions spring / in the heart of the chrysolite gaze … / the mystical darkness that caresses the throne of God / in a splendor beyond imagination, / so fast and bright. // Plus the many twisted darkness / that unfolds through the city, / subtly confused, intersects and separates, / ebbs and flows visibly; / darkness of lust and greed, / of the devastated body and the indecent heart … / I know this darkness. “
To dive into the human heart is to dive into one’s own. And to bring the light to contemplate the shady forms, is the task of this poet, who like all deep creators, anticipates the reflections of the world in which he exists.
In his time, Aldous Huxley (1894-1963) told the BBC that “Man is now a victim of his own technology.” And from his literary work, urged to wake up. I wonder if awakening is to abandon the state of unconsciousness, or to bring that unconsciousness (nightmares, dreams, visions) to this perceptual dimension and attend to the signs. I prefer this last idea, even though the word “unconscious” which comes from Latin, refers to the denial of consciousness with its prefix “in”Well, won’t it happen that rather than denying, the unconscious warns us? That the unconscious itself knocks on the door of consciousness, to reveal things that in another state are forbidden to it?
The conscience O conscience, which derives from cum scientĭa, (with knowledge) and which is defined as the knowledge that a being has of himself and of his environment, has today, much to hear from unconsciousness. This happy world enters the couch.