Helmut, walking ahead of us in some epic Heideggerian sulk. In his fortress of sulky solitude.
Do you think Heidegger was a sulker?
He was a Nazi.
Heidegger was a Nazi, Helmut. Did you know that?
Helmut, silent.
There must have been part of you that wasn’t entirely Heideggerian once, Helmut. At some stage. That’s what we’re appealing to. Didn’t you used to be a laugh or something, before you lifted yourself into pious Heideggerianism? Into the Heideggerian firmament, far above us mortals?
Clacton’s finest Heideggerian
Helmut, wandering off, like that nihilist penguin in that Herzog film about Antarctica. That’s totally disoriented. Wandering off into the heart of the continent to a certain death.
Don’t go, Helmut! Don’t leave us! We won’t take the piss out of your thought-hero anymore, we promise!
Helmut – Is it him? (Calling out) Is it you, Helmut? An apparition – like the Angel of the Somme. Come to save us! Come to lead us to safety! Only a Heideggerian can save us now …
Here you are, Helmut. A giant Heideggerian. Just what we needed. We thought we’d lost you. Thought we’d driven you away.
Work in Progress 