When Robert Duncan writes in Faust Foutu (1960, 1985):
"Protect us from those who play with dolls,"
he puts men in the position of being those who play with those who play with dolls.
And when he writes:
"Modesty means nothing to the sea," and:
"I'll fill myself with trouble until I resemble the universe," and:
"The moon upon the water is country enough for me," and:
"For all the hell of history, we have been feeding ourselves into mankind. For Nothing! Nothing!," and:
"I have no extravagant pride in sin. I know it's place," and:
"Everything is truth," (Cf. G.W.F. Hegel: "The truth is the whole," and Sartre's call for a "totalizing" analytic),
one wonders . . . .
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