I know you will deny it, but you, too, set yourself up as a superior human, who (in contrast to “disgraceful, blundering dupe”) is able to withstand the look into the abyss and be brave enough to risk “[going] mad with depression or with psychopathic glee.”

Yet, you, as each and every other form of and in this universe, are literally the absurd and the debilitating. Through and through. Where's the anomaly, tragedy or heroism in all of that? Those categories are just another set of formalities, just another self-centered fiction. A search for anti-meaning, if you will.

However, there is a world beyond existentialism. A world beyond “horror, awe, wonder, estrangement, and alienation,” which, in the end, are merely human concepts and names for individual reactions. It’s a world where you don’t even care that you don’t care. There's where the truth resides. Furthermore, what are you alienated and estranged from, and who is that “you” to begin with?

Your general thrust is correct, but squint harder.