So there is something deeply wretched about this country, a hopeless yearning. Is this a residue of Christ without an object? Or a projection - mine?
The average Briton wraps his world in optimistic garbs and images to protect himself from the collapsing world of paternal institutions and maternal faith.
Economy, beer, and the collective spirit of reasonableness - culture as morality, the wreck bending in upon itself.
How can Europe live without Christ? A return to Rousseau's ideas, reformed and repackaged in hedonist covering, but in an inevitably perverted form? (ie, the development of neoliberalism as a possible branch of this general direction.) Note that this actively destroys, if slowly but surely, the substance of the ideal, which remains a guard against the basest submission. The danger of mouthing words without knowing their meanings may therefore threaten.
More likely outcome: The continuation of the dialectic between ?
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