glowing-fish posted:

The mass man, the man of the city, divorced from being, scampering from one event seen-through-the-eyes-of-others to another, is unable to understand the poetry of language, the language of poetry, and how they are both silent. And so he looks into Being, looks into the logos, not the logos of category, but the logos of connection, of linking, that ideas-as-thoughts-as-words-as-poetry, are what is Being-there-as-human-as-history-as-Volk, and he calls it "nothing". Because the teleology of "interest", where essence leads, through a series of hints and allegations and things-left-unsaid, to existence, and where existence, in its circuitous path that is not the forest-path of the German Worker who joyfully uses the trees in the service of the Volk, is lead back into essence, this game is the game the urbanite plays and speaks, and where the true nature of Being, that forgotten ray of light piercing the forest kanopy, becomes "boring", becomes "Nothing".