To turn and see experience as act from the inside out is a kind of semantic inversion whereby you become aware of the constituted nature of whatever previously was merely received. It is an unzipping of the world which seems like a critical revelation, an opening onto an alienated freedom. Once begun there is no holding it back, it undoes everything and yet it leaves you oddly paralysed, at the intersection of giant formations in time, deeper and perhaps more sinister than all identified matters. This may be nothing more than a kind of post-modern sublime, a shift in the historical fault lines of the self, which is always in advance of its understanding, but once in play it is hard to resist its glamour. When defiantly directed outwards this kind of thinking loses all of its thrust towards truth, its original motivation, and becomes endless mannerism. It is then, like so much in art, a spiritual tool misused, the latest form of 'spilt religion', in Hulme's memorable phrase.