endrju’s Reviews > Theory of the Solitary Sailor > Status Update

major premise: I can only speak of myself; minor premise: to speak of myself is obscene; conclusion: I must speak of that which, in me, is not me, and yet drives me

The category of happiness exists, happiness does not. It is for tourists.

The triad of the labour market, human resources, and employability that lies at the heart of the metaphysics of management derives its authority not so much from the efficiency of the shitheads who implement it as from thr idiocy of those who object to it despite not being equipped with any metaphysical horizon whatsoever.

To invoke gnosis, a word at once scholarly and savage, the name of the division itself divided, allows one to add: I am only passing through. In fact, I'm leaving. See my wings.

And certainly, the idiot writes for himself, the scoundrel for as many as possible, the imbecile for everyone in general and no one in particular, and the cretin for posteriority.