But, perhaps a rose, without a name, under certain circumstances, would smell even sweeter.  Does naming dampen the deepest of appreciations?  Does the cognitive association of some “thing other than self” with a name prevent an unbounded realization of total essence?

It seems to me that in my most intense moments of past experience, namely lovemaking, psychoactive venturing, and reaction to life-or-death situations, names have played no part whatever in the pure experiential light-and-darkness-kissed chroma thus actualized.

Pure experience beyond names: that’s the essence of both animalistic and mystical (and animalistic-mystical) apprehension.