The mind is made of various ordered myths, each with a direction of its own, and a hope (foolish or not); and when you analyze and dissect these ordered myths (associative constellations) you shatter them and in their place erect One White Myth of Reason, which then arbitrarily directs and commands you; all that has happened is a loss of riches. The mind may become more coherent, but an organic tangle of vines is gone. Just as a jungle can be torn down for a cement factory. All the vines and the flowers and the cockatoos and the tigers go, and they make cement in noisy dusts.
a riot of perfumes