excrement
I insist here on the value that I attach to arbitrariness as the salvation of poorly fruitful creative situations offered by apparent logic.
To remain silent would be a decent way of stifling thought, which will always be the painful expression of an order given to oneself by one's own mental bourgeoisie.
As Victor says about the spider and the nettle - not Dr. Frankenstein, but his friend old Hugo - I love hate because we hate it.
Scam; burning lie! The vigour of the body dominates all the wisdom of the old. The human is only true through the bluff of its characters.
