And, pray, what are facts? Things done, acts, deeds. Yes, things that have actually happened, and are consequently true. In this sense my writing resembles, or even represents, a laborious collection of facts, raw facts, no matter how pathetic or frivolous or simply futile. Moreover, in this sense my nearly hysterical avoidance of each and every organizing principle resembles, but hopefully does not represent, the fundamental axiom of an already defunct, or at least tired, brand of positivism. Alas, this is a revelation, and a shocking one, even to myself! And an appropriate illustration of my very argument.

Addendum I (October 14, 1989)

I have a strict rule, which I think secret services follow, too: No piece of information is superior to any other. Power lies in having them all on file and then finding the connections. There are always connections; you have to want to find them.

From Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum, A Helen and Kurt Wolff Book, San Diego, New York, and London: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1989 (first published in 1988), p. 225.

Addendum II (February 9, 2017)

So many years and decades later, not to mention centuries and millennia, my writings have turned into an ocean of things done, acts, and deeds. Raw facts galore. Right now, there are nearly twenty-thousand pieces of writing and almost four-thousand addenda extending them over more than forty years. Goodness gracious! But my avoidance of all organizing principles has eventually led to a discovery well worth the effort: from early on, I have been yearning for liberation. Well, nirvana, enlightenment, samadhi, and so on. My yearning is palpable throughout my tortuous journey. And my book about yoga completed a year ago is my witness. Liberation behind me at long last, now I can look over the entire ocean with a smile on my face. A good organizing principle, this. To this day, I relish the collection of facts in front of me. There are no lies, no inventions, and no bullshit anywhere. Positivism incarnate, indeed.