Anthroposophists have a bad habit of producing texts that have no content at all, but are words piled upon each other, at seeming random, like the stuff that comes out of those hilarious automatic text generators or perhaps more like something dreamlike, resembling sounds and words, flowing out from a subconscious state. This again is one of those things one can’t blame on Steiner; he never does that, he’s full of meaning. He’s not intellectually lazy in that way, nor is he asleep. One may agree or disagree, but as a rule he’s saying something. 

It’s a funny quality to be capable of seeing higher worlds and of consciously battling Ahriman and Lucifer, and so on, but then to fail at writing a few text passages that have some actual content. (I’m thinking of Pessoa now.) The words, although individually appealing (at best), suddenly seem to be transforming into opposing forces of a most demonic kind. They assemble into something superficially appearing to be text, but a void is left where meaning should have been. There’s nothing there.

One example of many, see page 7.

And you wonder to yourself, as a reader, what was it I read? What were all those buzzwords, how did they go together? Did I actually read at all, because it would presuppose some engagement with the text, which in turn presupposes a content, or did I simply feed words into my mental machinery?

Come to think of it, don’t contentless texts and empty phrases — even poetry requires a thought and a thread to follow, not to speak of beauty — provide fuel for ahrimanic processes, sclerotic and cold? It’s the first thing I’d suspect! Said jokingly.

(It should be added: thankfully, there are also lots of anthroposophists who don’t write like that. And, regrettably, lots of non-anthroposophists who do. It’s the language of corporate bullshitters and of dimwitted life coaches, among others, who wish to conceal a lack of substance.)