The temptation to reflect on the absence of reflection, to regain the reflective self, a self-evident good, at any cost. There are various discursive modalities that have their own version of truth, their own hard-headed and distinctive foundational rationality: artistic, scientistic, political, theistic, cynical, pseudo-Dionysian (in both senses), the middle voice, and so on. These have become  rather sophisticated from living so in the world, and each is aware of its own blind spots as something not only to avoid but to draw power from too. They self-deconstruct with ease and in their stride. The mind has endless excuses, and inexhaustible charm, and who after all is there to tell it otherwise? Excuses for what? Simply for going on, for not stopping.