FOR THE MADMAN THE NEIGHBOR IS HIMSELF includes unpublished excerpts from Mr. Leader’s private memoirs and journals. In these fascinating documents the reader will briefly glance at the mind of one of the most intriguing figures in recent memory.


This will be a fight with Wits.

- First and foremost we had to decapitate all statues we came across to eradicate intellectual references of sanity, erase the existing methods, reject normative traditions.  Out of sight, the portraits of ideas would become increasingly distant from memory.

- No more would the faces of literature, economics, history or sense populate our fields. Slowly, these portraits would vanish from the arid minds of Mainland, leaving a void where a new world could bloom. The streets would be free of the leering eyes of the past.

- But should these heads be discarded?

- No, they could be used as weapons. After all they were the raw matter of Thought, regardless of how misled that thought might have been. The heads would be the crucial instrument in the decisive fight - a fight that would reconfigure the system of Thought. They would no longer be figures seeing History go by. The heads would set upon Mainland through the Games. They would have a real impact as they crashed into the massive buildings of obsolete beliefs.

- They would guarantee the intrusion of idle fantasy into the regular world.

The Games would generate a novel Lexicon made of new particles and conjunctions.

- We were building a universe out of these chaotic masses; we were reinventing synapses and remaking chemical reactions. We would put together what was born apart; interrupt what was meant to be linear.

- We enjoyed the company of numbers; no creatures were more coherent. Numbers were not an idea, they were a natural species.

The Games would first strike the Primary Geography, flooding all gray matter, bringing it to a halt.

- The left side of the brain no longer controlled language. The right side no longer controlled numbers or spatial manipulation. Logic was released from its geographical constraints. It was able to roam free and see beyond what was opposite to it.

The world of Thought could only be a world of conflict and chaos, a random clash of fragments of the reality they claim to be part of.

- We will order the fog and clouds to gather here - to suspend reality. We will give you a quick break from yourself.

- The ideas that had haunted us for so long somehow escaped the realm of fiction. Let them go. Let them seize the barren intellects of Mainland.

- Why negate the instinct that the nature of the world is disorder and deviation? We must become citizens of the world of unreason, free from the eternal illusion of normalcy.

- We are accused of inconsistency - but if we are many selves, how can we be consistent?

If reality is fragmented, it is necessarily incompatible with the ever-arrogant ideal of consistency.

- We bear a great sympathy for all that is weak and absurd - nothing seems more reasonable than refusing to carry the weight of reality. Which begs the question, why are people so opposed to letting the feebleminded walk down unknown paths? The inferno is after all an artifice of the divine.

- The ideal lends itself to the illusion of order, while the specific will always be diabolical. Physics has been screaming this from the top of her lungs since the beginning of times. Why is it that not a soul ever stopped to listen to her?