I am developing a strange hatred for the philosophical tradition - of German Idealism in particular. Hegel, Kant, Nietzsche, Schelling - they are liars. Their whole milieu represents an evil Faustian bargain, a disgusting assault on the divine - hubris. I hate that I am infected by their immanence and their dialectics, the ghastly overdevelopment of ratiocination aiming to devour all of reality in a maw of astral intensities seeking dissolution. They are even worse that the 20th century French tradition that represents their decadence. I hate all of it - consistency just as much as inconsistency, affirmation of reason as much as of libido. I feel its black infection coursing through my veins mixed with my authentic blood, weakening me, causing my skull to grow so that it is too heavy for me to carry. The closer I come to a coherent standpoint of my own .... I do not have words for the disgust; it is indescribable. It is all falsehood. Vast caverns of dense, cerebral nothingness-words obscuring a contingent, all-too-human decision so insignificant that were it to be revealed for what it is in the light of day the caverns would collapse in on themselves opening up giant pocks on the terrestrial surface.