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At my parents' house we had a semi-integrated kitchen in the dining room. You could see all the activity in the kitchen without being inside the kitchen. My parents were fortunate enough to afford to hire a maid. I don't know why, but kitchens in general, at least in those years, were a female territory. They dominated that space. They ordered, directed, organized and coordinated the culinary processes, from a position of dominance. There is a parallel with the witches' cauldrons and their secret potions.
It was a spectacle to observe all the interactions between the areas of preparation, cooking, cleaning, waste, and especially the classification of storage spaces. Everything was at hand. And at the same time, it seemed so natural, quaint and archaic. I could imagine that the kitchen was pure poetry. Above all, a kitchen of thought.
Could thought be cooked? That is, if we add a little bit of communism and three grams of national socialism, we would obtain a totalitarian sauce. How many ideologies can be obtained by mixing ideologies in a pot. Perhaps it was the fire that made them appear, and it was the fire that made them edible. Putting ideas on the stove is also the previous step before spreading new ideas and new dogmas. The kitchen of beliefs is also a laboratory. In whose recipes are found formulas to reach the best results in strong stews like demagogies and delicious desserts like proselytizing.
Of course, this alchemical hell is administered by a paradoxical character. He is protective, on the one hand, or at the very least, maternal in nature. And on the other hand, he is demonic, or at the very least, with suspicious pretensions. The cupboards are full of ingredients capable of manipulating the hungry human masses. From this toxic or nutritious cuisine comes the food of the mind.
The kitchen of thought should not be underestimated. The enclosure may seem disconcerting as it appears modest, cramped or small, yet planets enter. Therefore, it is also a gigantic galaxy capable of more than containing a range of eternal, immortal thought ..... and universal scope.
I wondered what was the scale of these stimuli in our environments. If it was simply a fisherman approaching the shore and after a while he could so happily take two or three fish. And then I was terrified that the exposure to commercial stimuli was so overwhelming that it could only be compared to a mass activity.
The way in which a tree diversifies into smaller and smaller but still forming parts of a whole was an excellent analogy to express that, from the same immense forest, mighty trees rose up one after another and subdivided almost infinitely to invade the middle (market) with hooks that spread out like a net. Why not imagine that the thin end of each branch twists and twists to become a fishhook?
Hooks of every kind and nature. For all kinds of fish. Wholesale or retail. Created in detail for luxury segments or for humble segments, it doesn't matter.
In this overpopulation of stimuli the fish were caught, in this case, it is consumers who end up biting. Consumers are therefore mouths biting bait and hooks, and at the same time they are bags with scales, inside the bag fish fit all kinds of goods.
In the substratum of the forest there are bites, as if the land of stimuli were an apple that everyone wants to bite. An apple of temptation. In these fecundity grounds, there are multiple pregnancies. In their wombs there are embryos of commercial stimuli that will gradually become adult stimuli, which phenomenologically will be very attractive and seductively dressed with a good label and a corresponding price.
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