Language, we know, is a corset, a constraint, but it is also free as a bird, crazy. Imagination in flames. Those who talk about the end are searching for the beginning. Those who talk about the beginning are looking for what is possible and impossible in the future. Folliesophy is not a parody of philosophy, nor of the mad. On the contrary. It plays with what language can and must do; it plays seriously, heavily, and lightly, with what is given and what is invented. As everything changes, languages change. Always in flux, always more uncontrollable. Therefore, there is a need for material testing at ever shorter intervals: questioning, probing what has been seen, experienced, felt, and thought. Dancing. Until words emerge and until there are no more words. In the absurdity in which we live, starting anew, always more open and vulnerable.