Think of the sentences churned out by academics. Philosophy and Literature, a journal published by the Johns Hopkins University Press, runs an annual contest for the ugliest, most stylistically awful sentence to come out of scholarly books and articles. Winners include untameable sentences like this one, by Stephen T. Tyman in The Philosophy of Paul Ricouer:
With the last gasp of Romanticism, the quelling of its florid uprising against the vapid formalism of one strain of the Enlightenment, the dimming of its yearning for the imagined grandeur of the archaic, and the dashing of its too sanguine hopes for a revitalised, fulfilled humanity, the horror of its more lasting, more Gothic legacy has settled in, distributed and diffused enough, to be sure, that lugubriousness is recognisable only as languor, or as a certain sardonic laconicism disguising itself in a new sanctification of the destructive instincts, a new genius for displacing cultural reifications in the interminable shell game of the analysis of the human psyche, where nothing remains sacred.
That's not a stream of thought; it's a bunch of big words thrown into an Osterizer.
Print the above eemadges.