These enquiries are just expanded figures or conjugations of self-consciousness; you go out along an intention and then you come back in. It wasn't straight it was curved, it only looked straight to you, as it had to. Following the track of a new object you leave through the door, but the track curves around, the new object was another part of yourself and you return through the window, or at any rate find yourself back where you started, having got there somehow in spite all your enquirer's sincerity. You are surprised you didn't see the whole game immediately, but that was precisely the point - you wouldn't have followed the lure if it wasn't something you recognised but no longer remembered; it was the minimum necessary quantum of alienation needed to fascinate. You didn't see the game and then you saw it, there is a sort of flush of embarrassment, catching yourself in the mirror, a short-circuit of intention. It renders you absurd, and to the degree that you are absurd you are truly absurd. It's not true that this looping back on yourself is the limitation that it appears to be, it puts the game of self-referentiality into a frame and for a moment you could step out of it. There ought to be nothing easier than stepping out of it once it is seen that it is no more solid than a thought. The idea is simple, the problem is finding the witness of that idea.