The young Nietzsche wrote his first book, The Birth of Tragedy, while in his early twenties. He went after Socrates, whom he called the “mystagogue of science,” for “making existence appear comprehensible.” This brilliant passage exposes what I call the sucker-rationalistic fallacy:

— Perhaps — thus he [Socrates] should have asked himself—what is not intelligible to me is not necessarily unintelligent? Perhaps there is a realm of wisdom from which the logician is exiled?

“What is not intelligible to me is not necessarily unintelligent” is perhaps the most potent sentence in all of Nietzsche’s century