Therefore, it can only be a trick. So insidious and pervasive is the wickedness of civilization, that it tries to seduce even the most elemental bodily instinct of self-preservation into believing that bodily functions and energy can be protected by such deceitful, civilized, values as moderation, stability, and organization. Certainly, the body, whose mission it is to refuse itself to civilization under any guise whatsoever, is not going to fall for that. For it knows that behind every sign of organized society lurks a deadly danger to its energetic rhythm. Thus, even in the privacy of one's home, civilization raises its wicked head.
Every comfortable chair is a potential monster, every inviting feather bed a trap.
Every wine skin in your cellar can become a giant at a moment's notice, and so can the deceitfully innocent windmills in the fields nearby. Well, if you are Cervantes, you immediately realize what is going on and you write a novel to expose the dangers attending to any enterprise that in one way or another turns wine skins and windmills into menacing giants. In other words, you can either charge the monsters, like Don Quijote, or you can see Don Quijote as the very representative of the monsters you are charging against. On the other hand, this makes me think that perhaps I have got it all wrong. You see, I have been postulating at the basis of my argument a theoretical human subject who is really worried about his body in civilized society.