In this wonderful world where you can buy anything on the market (children too), there is an anti-wrinkle cream for over 26 years. Maybe I've seen the announcement. And you may have remembered what Arantxa Urretabizkaia once said by answering Goizalde Landabaso's questions within the 111 Akademia Kilkerren Soka project: “I think this society hates old age, but I don’t. What is more, I find our obsession with having a younger look pathetic. You tell anyone who looks younger and is very excited about it, just like you were 30 or 60 years old.”

White people are neutral, and everyone else is neutral. Men are neutral, and the rest, others. What about age issues? In terms of age they are adults (are we?) That is not the case, but it is not the case. And those of others, those of the old: that seemingly passive ballast of this society in which constant productivity growth is a wet dream. Old people are the stumble, the contempt. “It’s old and it dies, it’s not worth four white,” says the old saying. But how old and how old are the ones we have neglected today to the point of making the old word a taboo! : the words adult and young are a compliment, and the words of old people are of poor education; the word old or old must always be used. Moreover, as we invented the Third Supremacist World Name, we have invented the third venomous euphemism of age. The third is always the last.

As with all the replaced collectives, we get the old people to leave with clichés and simplify with topics: we attribute the topic of weakness and wisdom to them, by goodness; as if there was no strong old or energetic, or an old fool. In short, homogenization is one of the most effective ways of eliminating humanity and individuality. Most young people and adults probably don't know almost anything about being old, but the mouth fills us with a lot of things, "grandma's croquettes" and "grandpa's genius" by idealization or by dysplicity. Not in vain did James Barrie write (although most of the time it is attributed to Oscar Wilde): “I’m not so young as to know everything.”

We are in the era of absolute Carpe diem, the present lives us, and for that reason or consequence, old age only brings to memory a Mori moment, a black future with no future. They say that we live behind the back of the past, and that is why some are trying to spread the claim of historical memory, remember where we came from, do the good done again and avoid mistakes. The future, however, is all too often forgotten: we lack the memory of the future, the memory of the future, the memory of that old age, which is the fate of all human beings on the way and in the absence of misfortunes. And in our prospective amnesia, we work there, we frustrate, we manufacture and consume ointments against age: creams against ourselves.

Perhaps we should remember these words written by Simone de Beauvoir in the essay La Vieillesse (Old Age): “The meaning of our life is in question in that future that awaits us; we cannot know who we are if we do not know who we are: in that old man, in that old lady, we will find ourselves in them.” Or in other words, memento senescere. Age and let yourself age freely.