Stars not where they seemed or were calculated to be, but nobody need worry.
Madness string 2582
It wasn't nonsense though. It was spot on. It was pre-internet, and yet it's very accurate about the state of our language today.
Philosophy becomes tortured thinking. Thinking that devours itself — and continues intact and even flourishes, in spite (or perhaps because) of the repeated acts of self-cannibalism. In the passion play of thought, the thinker plays the roles of both protagonist and antagonist. He is both suffering Prometheus and the remorseless eagle who consumes his perpetually regenerated entrails.