Everything that is done is done for some reason, but not that the reason is the end at which the doing aims, but is the context, the purpose in a world of purposes, which is a world of interpretations, from which the doing originates. This leaves room for the discovery of true, or rather truer, purposes in endless re-interpretation. There is no unbiased introspection or self-inquiry, everything we think to have discovered is an event in a play, a disclosure in a strategically recomposed narrative which can frame repetition as innovation and perhaps the reverse. The value posed in the narrative for self-inquiry may be aesthetic or spiritual, as two diverse poles which deny each other but are nonetheless often forced together. In the former what is of interest is an expressively twisted consciousness or else a kind of easy and unaffected honesty that startles with its penetration to the root of things. These give pleasure, and most of all when they cunningly mix it with pain, and it is just such pleasure which the spiritual denies as it seeks to free the enjoyer from his enjoyment. While the aesthetic may seem perversely attached to the experience of discovery rather than following through on what is discovered, the spiritual can more readily be seen as a perverse mutation of the aesthetic, arrested in the enjoyment of its refusal of enjoyment. The aesthetic may be proxy for the spiritual but it often appears to be its truest, or only true form, without being spiritual at all.