In 1982 I took an introductory
philosophy class... and from that moment forward I was irredeemably
ruined. I took to the dizzying ecstacy of pure thinking for the
sake of thinking the way I took to alcohol... only I never got over
my addiction to philosophy. Today I still read Existentialist tracts
the way some people read pot-boilers, and peruse Postmodern Polemics
with particular glee.
Each of these philosophers have shaped me
at one point or another in my life. Russell introduced me to the
possibility of atheism, while Kierkegaard reintroduced me to the
possibility of faith. Baudrillard and Breton helped me to make sense
of a post-Modern world while Foucault finished the sexual revolution
that Freud started.
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