For we cannot know what we do not know. Indeed, we are lost in this life, asking questions that cannot be reasonably answered;

Why are we here? Why are we imperfect? Why is life less than we expect, and can we make it better?

And we are left to ask these questions to nobody in particular. Would you rather direct your questions to God, who is invisible, and does not answer in clear, audible language? Or should you ask the charlatan, the wise man, who answers readily and claims comfortable knowledge of all things?

Maybe it is best to to acknowledge your own imperfection; your own lack of knowledge. This is immediately certain.

You know little and are capable of knowing less. Why are you wasting you time trying to understand? The harder you try to hold the truth, the more readily it will squeeze out between your fingers, like jelly on a warm summer day.

I cannot recommend Ernst Jünger enough. A true 20th Century Renaissance Man warrior poet polymath legit bad ass. Amazing life. His novel, Eumeswil, is the equivalent to Nietzsche's, Thus Spake Zarathustra, in that it is a culmination of his philosophy. Much like Friedrich's Übermensch, Jünger's concept of The Anarch offers profound insights on how to negotiate ones way through life separate and above the associated micro and macro douchebaggery. Elevated stoic sovereign citizenry.

"The Anarch is to the anarchist as the Monarch is to the monarchist."