We succumb at times to the lure of the self toward thinking we could extract ourselves intact from the world; there is an untempered narcissism in this. As if we could imagine any different world and then place ourselves, wholly, into it, or as if the world were such that it ought conform to a faulty notion: as if we were simply beings-in-th-world, isolatable from it, perhaps immutable in relation to its work. But this is untenable if not stupid. We do not exist ‘in’ the world, nor could we exist outside of it. Outside of the movement of the experiential manifold, which is differentiated and shaped by the contours of the world, there is no we, much less a you or I. We are of the world, consisting of a circuit of its movement, without significance or force or anything else except in virtue of our trajectory or path through it — and in fact there is nothing that moves or proceeds but only the movement or procession itself, shaped by the contours of the world at the same time as it wears at them. We are this movement. Any argument that treats an alienated subject, an I, you, we, or them, as something abstracted from the movement of the manifold fails, inevitably. When we consider the world, we must consider it dynamically; and efforts at creating a different set of contours of experience must take into account those that already exist. We must consider our trajectories carefully.
Social Democracy thought fit to assign to the working class the role of the redeemer of future generations, in this way cutting the sinews of its greatest strength. This training made the working class forget both its hatred and its spirit of sacrifice, for both are nourished by the image of enslaved ancestors rather than that of liberated grandchildren. — Walter Benjamin, Theses on the Philosophy of History