Nando, the man who claims to have a woman's mind: the body as a prison

Nando, the man who says he has a woman's mind and cannot prove it

There is one scene that sums up the problem. A man parks his car in the middle of a shopping mall parking lot, crossing it defiantly, and waits for people to come out of the cinema to blow kisses and shake his ass. He does it, he says, to mock other people's submission. But the paradox overwhelms him: he inhabits the container of his sweet Nando and the herd is unable to take him seriously. He puts it this way himself when opening the thread: «I possess the mind of a woman; but not that of those submissive lapdogs who display the character of a loutish trucker, but the psyche of a true predator who thinks only of biting, embracing, being bitten and receiving pleasure».

The author of the sentence introduces himself as Nando el Hispano, el Niño Lunar, and signs off as «the most intelligent child existing on this blue planet», author of «El Niño Lunar: la imposición de nacer» (The Lunar Child: the imposition of being born), a work he describes as «the only axiomatic work existing in this wasteland of mud and mediocrity disguised as intellectuality». The challenge he throws into the gloom of that wasteland is a single one: how to untie the knot and emancipate consciousness from this physical body.

The body as a prison: the paradox of identity

The premise is not new, but its formulation is striking. The idea that consciousness is trapped in a container that does not belong to it runs through the history of philosophy and, more recently, the public debate on gender identity. Here, however, the subject is not asking for social recognition or a medical transition: he is asking for a metaphysical escape route. «A machine that needs to feed itself, pee, shit, breathe and desire will never be free or happy», he declares at another point in the exchange.

The statement contains a contradiction the author himself never resolves: if the body is a machine that prevents freedom, why is the identity he claims —woman, lesbian, predator— defined precisely by bodily acts? The answer he offers is that the herd cannot take him seriously because of his appearance. The problem, then, is not only metaphysical: it is one of external validation.

Happiness as a construct: Procrustes and the perversos biped

The exchange also antiestéticatures a critique of the very ideas of happiness and freedom. «Happiness, just like freedom, are nothing more than constructs created by the perversos biped: Procrustes the condescending», he maintains. The reference to Procrustes —the myth of the bed that was adjusted to its guests by cutting or stretching them— serves to illustrate the idea that social expectations mutilate the individual to fit him into a mold.

Skepticism toward the official narrative of happiness is not unique to this case. It connects with a current of thought that distrusts the promises of self-fulfillment and the discourses of personal growth. The difference is that here it is taken to the extreme: if the body is a machine that prevents freedom, no social construct can solve the problem.

Saving as the engine of happiness: the unexpected reply

Against the existential reflection, one of the first replies to the opening post offers a down-to-earth counterpoint: «Don't spend. Saving is the engine of happiness in this world». The sentence, brief and sententious, introduces an element of economic realism into a debate that until that point had been moving in the realm of metaphysics.

The contrast is revealing. While the author of the opening post seeks a way out of the captivity of the flesh, the reply suggests that happiness lies in not spending. No dialogue is possible between the two positions: one speaks of the emancipation of consciousness, the other of managing one's assets. The thread is left suspended at that point, with neither side giving ground.

The background noise: identity as performance

Throughout the exchange, messages appear that seem to be seeking external validation. «I am a stunning lesbian of cosmic exoticism» is repeated twice. The statement, more performative than descriptive, receives no direct response. The silence of the other participants in the face of this declaration is, in itself, an answer: no one enters into debating it.

Some might see in this repetition a strategy of self-visibility. Others, a way of demanding attention. In any case, the effect is the same: the identity is proclaimed, but not debated. The thread drifts toward other topics —a mention of a TV pundit from lasensla, a joke about a name and a rhyme— and the original question is left hanging.

The question that goes unanswered

In the end, the initial challenge still hangs in the air: «how to untie the knot and emancipate consciousness from this physical body?». No one offers a solution. The exchange exhausts itself, with posts that keep the thread alive without contributing new avenues. The material paradox the author himself described —the herd unable to take him seriously— is reproduced within the exchange itself: the existential reflection dissolves among replies that never address it.

What remains is the evidence of a malaise: the consciousness that does not feel at ease in its container. And the proof that, at least in this case, the debate found no way forward.