With feet on the ground

With feet on the ground

By Carlos Ruperto Fermín

Unfortunately, we always pigeonhole our present with the tragic living to live, before compromising the future with the desire to dream to live. The lack of personal goals that motivate the aura of the soul, conditions us to cope with the reality of planetary existentialism, in a predictable vegetative state of conformism.

The depression somatized by the pathos of the Human Being, snatches the well-being of the colossal Mother Earth, which radiates the light of the ecological crimes caused in the 21st century, by the new tripolar psychosis established in the psychotic modern world.

We prefer to condemn our destiny to an unrepentant death, rather than undergoing the emotional learning of disappointment, disappointment and pain. We never want to learn in times of crisis, but we are missing the opportunity to reconnect with invaluable daily experiences, which will help us overcome the punishment of confusion, and allow us to recover the beautiful daring of daydreaming.

We can hear the chirping of the birds, sit in the park to meditate, observe the firm step of the grandparents, laugh with the laughter of the children, play with a street dog, kiss a catchy yawn, shout a cappella song, change the color of the bluish sky, and hug the trunk of a tree.

We have endless experiences as simple as fortifying, to elevate the sacred spirit of Humanity, and bring out the feeling of healing in our battered imagination.

A battered sidereal imagination, which is daily besieged and harassed by the meticulous negative content, extended in the surrounding biophysical environment. Hence, the inverted pyramid drawn in earthly providence gives us millions of faces tired of crawling in a great lie, which represents the cracked and withered heart of all men and their women.

We can trample an ant in the desert, curse the authority of a lightning bolt, spit the garden oasis, burn the garbage on a whim, glorify the sin of adultery, abuse electricity, waste a drop of water, beg for a lemonade and baptize capitalist biology.

We have endless experiences as complex as they are futile, to demolish the sacred spirit of Humanity, and to bring out the feeling of animosity in our erratic imagination.

The war between doing good or remaking evil is a very complicated battle to win on individual merits, since the great challenges of the Universe require the union of antagonistic forces, to achieve the only possible and impossible goal to reject: peace. .

In order to achieve holy peace, it is necessary to remember those historical milestones of love, which the past of our ancestors was in charge of bleeding in black and white. Those immemorial landscapes where the feet had no owners, did not support chains and did not collect fears, because they walked barefoot and confident of reaching the house out of nowhere.

But with the emergence of proletarian electricity, the revolutionary feeling of love was trivialized, ridiculed, and prostituted in all the brothels of the orbital streets, thanks to the anarchic consent poured out by the kings, by the pontiffs and by the dictators of the day. .

In the blink of an eye, love became a trademark of science fiction, and to gain the carnal joy provided in Eros's amulet, we had to worship the courtesy smile of the damn Money God, and we had to destroy the rosary of freedom of the blessed Mother Earth.

It is difficult to think of Auschwitz, Chernobyl, Fukushima, Orlando, Taiji and Bento Rodrigues, without first thinking of the ten fingers of genocide, ethnocide and ecocide. We have used our inexhaustible capacity for concentration to build gigantic fields of artificial intelligence, which do not recognize the serenity of being and the humanity of the human being.

Humanism demands a consolidation of environmental respect, which transcends the malformed gnosis by civilizations, by religions and by politicking.

However, the extinction of the ancient Poopó Lake showed that pulverized mining could dry out the fantasy of its warrior waters. The serious contamination of the sacred river Ganges shows that Hinduism is also a victim of millenary toxicity. And the near extinction of the pious Aral Sea, showed that the warmongering race can silence the tyranny of the wind.

In fact, we are very happy to celebrate the independence of our Latin American countries, carrying out a series of festive activities that include: the launching of fireworks, the choreographic patriotic parades, and the public imposition of work breaks. But we are truly celebrating the success of bloody irrationality, evidenced by the sharp swords of massacres, the reddish arrows of disaster, and the indomitable doomsday horses.

Therefore, before attempting to solve global environmental problems, we must first identify the affective problems that exist in our families, homes and communities. The energy dose that defines the social interaction of each person also reflects the dynamics of the trinomial based on thought, action and consequence.

Sometimes the results obtained from cognitive discernment do not conform to the pragmatic future that we hoped to achieve, so the application of free will in a decision previously made should NOT hide behind the temptation of the poisonous snakes of the swamp, to justify the successes and the sins we commit out of mere discord.

When our volcano of passion is transformed into arctic ice, we usually break the stones of the rivers closest to the concrete jungle, looking for the forests of Alelí to swallow the coins of our proud spoiledness, and thus we continue to lose the naturalness of the perfect time and aware of the wise Pachamama.

If illness robs us of a loved one, no one will like to hear the word Resignation. If unemployment leaves us empty-handed, no one will like to hear the word Courage. And if life gives us tears of despair, no one will like to hear the word Patience.

But we are sure that with a little resignation, with a pinch of courage and with a touch of patience, broken hearts will once again regain the courage of the brave, because we madly beat the more than 100,000 beats, which daily vitalize the magical miracle of divine creation.

A magical divine creation that runs the risk of disappearing, due to the sophisticated pride that humanity's pendulum will absorb, before the Sun tires of shining in the galaxy, before Mother Earth tires of loving her descendants, and before let the asteroid get tired of hitting the crust.

Let's imagine that we buy a ticket at the airport, to board the next departure plane, and quickly arrive at the chosen destination.

All tourists show signs of anxiety, boredom and worry, as we wait for the inevitable takeoff of the plane.

Once we accelerate, climb and gravitate in the air, we gift the precious gift of life to a turbine engine, a pilot with signs of drunkenness, and a rusty seat belt.

We do not have the heavenly wings of angels, we do not have the natural wings of birds, and we do not have the supreme wings of gods. But we play to be the earthly gods, flying with a pair of technological wings made by the superheroes of aeronautical engineering, on a planet Earth as grotesquely globalized as the mysterious Bermuda Triangle.

A prodigious example for holistic reflection is found in the movie "The Jetsons meet The Flintstones", which was produced by Hanna-Barbera and released in 1987, being an unprecedented event for the lives of both families, who starred two great generational periods.

The story revolves around a time machine, built by the mischievous Cometin to win a science project. At first all his relatives were suspicious of the supposed device, but later they were amazed to see that the machine was a real invention.

The machine had a control lever, and two levels of adjustment to travel to the Past or the Future. The entire supersonic family happily agreed to travel to the future, wanting to experience the flamboyant 25th century lifestyle.

Although Cometín said that his machine was adjusted to travel to the future, we were struck by the fact that the lever clearly pointed to the Past. And when the family dog, Astro, got excited because he was also invited on the great trip, we saw that he accidentally moved the lever with his tail. Although with that movement the adjustment level should indicate the Future, the capricious lever was once again at the Past level.

But The Jetsons traveled confident they would make it to the future, joking about the chance to escape their troubles. After landing on unfamiliar soil, the whole family was confused, not knowing which planet they were visiting, and in fear of encountering creepy people, due to the exaggerated use of vitamins and steroids.

The only one who landed calm and happy was the dog Astro, who immediately recognized the beauty of Nature, and the lush trees in the forest.

Quite the opposite happened with Super, Ultra, Lucero and Cometín, who had never touched the green grass of the Earth, and only knew the ecology learned in the readings of ancient history.

But unknowingly, The Jetsons were in the same Stone Age forest, where The Flintstones were spending an improvised vacation, since Pedro and Pablo had been fired from their jobs, so they decided to leave the streets of Piedradura, so that Vilma and Betty would not know what happened.

The two families met in the prehistoric forest. The Jetsons thought they would find more futuristic beings, and The Flintstones thought they would find more primitive beings.

After the Jetsons' discouragement by the archaic future, Cometín exclaimed the following: "Perhaps we advanced so far into the future that time began again."

Beyond the relationship problems, both families managed to communicate quickly, through the common use of the word "Friend", that both The Flintstones and The Jetsons understood its meaning.

The families were sympathetic, adapted to the changes and were surprised, by the incredible anti-gravity boots that the foreigners showed off, and by the comfortable shale sofa that the natives showed off.

However, the real plan that Pedro Flintstone was hatching was to bring to fruition the technological advances of The Jetsons, to impress his former boss and get his job back.

But the technology did not help Pedro, and Mr. Rachael did not give him back his job. At that precise moment, The Jetsons decided to use the time machine to return home, as Super was also about to lose his job, since his boss, Lord Jupiter, unjustly accused him of being a snitch.

Before leaving, Super wanted to take a picture with The Flintstones. He asked them to stay still, so that everyone came out framed and smiling. But just when he said the word "Be still", a malfunction in Cometín's time machine, caused The Flintstones to be transported to the future.

It came to our attention again, that the whimsical machine indicated the level of Past, when The Flintstones arrived in the world of The Jetsons.

The wild antagonism of life was not an impediment to either family. The Jetsons got used to caves, and The Flintstones got used to multimedia.

But sadly, each family was used and exploited by astute entrepreneurs, who saw in the eccentricities of The Flintstones and The Jetsons, an opportunity to earn easy money for their own business interests.

Super's shocking flight of prey made his family earn a fortune to buy cars, beauty salons, arenas, hotels, gyms, discos, and even the fire station.

And the impressive cave face of Pedro, made him proclaimed as "the miracle of the time", "the spokesman of the stone age" and "the most famous man in the Universe."

Unable to deal with the frivolous responsibilities, both families loathed each other for their own lives. The Jetsons were filled with complaints, anger, dissatisfaction and regret. The Flintstones were filled with self-centeredness, envy, grudges and betrayals.

The word "Friend" that had unified the culture of the two families, had become a bitter call for Help, to return with the time machine to their past lives.

Ironically, the Jetsons maid Robotina, who was not invited to travel with the time machine, turned out to be the heroine of the film rescuing her beloved supersonic family, and getting all the characters safely back to the space age. .

Whereas The Flintstones returned to the Stone Age, because they absorbed some of the energy of the time machine, and because of the nostalgia they felt when sitting in their prehistoric vehicle, which was a novel merchandise for space consumers.

At the end of the story, Pedro and Super recognized their setbacks, got their jobs back, and appreciated the great power of friendship.

It is clear that evolution is a limiting process, which sooner or later leads to its own involution. It is a law as natural as the promise to be born, grow up, grow old and die.

You do not need sleepless nights, particle accelerators or astrological spells, to know that the origin of everything we know throughout life is a much simpler and more addictive game to solve, than setting neurons on fire with the chicken and egg question.

In the particular case of planet Earth, the indelible anthropological traces of the human species show that the legendary law of Talion ate the nest of the innocent, the egg of the dreamers, and the hen of the secular peoples.

Each evolutionary moment of Human Beings has been overshadowed by the most rudimentary and violent social segregation, which based on the organic instinct for survival, came to consolidate a paradigm as far-fetched as ingratitude, enmity and revenge.

That is why we can make nuclear bombs, but we cannot cure Cancer. We can colonize the surface of Mars, but we cannot cure Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. We can clone a sheep, but we cannot cure Diabetes. We can rebuild the twin towers, but we cannot rebuild the Ozone Layer. We can cure ignorance, but we cannot cure AIDS.

It is obvious that prehistory will be Earth's postmodernism. The Flintstones had all the luck in the world, because they lived the future for the first time, with the purity of all existing natural resources. But we Jetsons dirty all the precious stones, so that when we return for the second time to the future, there will no longer be dinosaurs that wag their tails of happiness, there will no longer be elephant trunks that heat drinking water, and there will no longer be horns that speak. nonsense to death.

We get used to the cultural division of countries, flags, hymns, colors, borders, and creeds.

But there was an unforgettable first of January, which recognized planet Earth as the only roof shared by Humanity, as the only refuge shared by biodiversity, and as the only way to share in life.

Australia was not always Australia, Venezuela was not always Venezuela, and Italy was not always Italy. The Eskimos were not always Eskimos, the Indians were not always indigenous, and the Templars were not always Templars. Americans weren't always Americans, Africans weren't always African, and Martians weren't always Martians.

There was a blessed January 1st, when we were all brothers by blood, when we were all brothers by race, and when we were all brothers by conscience.

There was a blessed January 1st, when we all spoke the same language, when we all ate with the same language, and when we all kissed the same language.

There was a blessed first of January, when we all woke up naked, when we all slept naked, and when we all dreamed naked.

It all sounds too trite, too childish and too predictable, but it is the true truth that emancipates planet Earth.

If we cannot remember, accept or imagine it, it is because the feeling of animosity overcame the feeling of healing, and love is a long way from the last train home.


Video: Two Feet on the Ground Housenick Remix (May 2021).