Michael Johnson has an interesting post that examines a passage on The Widow's Son on how "we do not know our own godhood."
So: with Wilson, there seems to be some sort of continuum of invention of words: here they flow into us, as if by revelation. But because we have decided to entertain this idea of where language comes from, and how it works in our lives, many of us have suffered needlessly. This passage also seems to imply that it's imperative that we not only figure out how we're "swindled" by language, but to own the god-power in ourselves (the only place "god" really exists?) and use language creatively, actively, to take back the power of language and to use it to better our lives.
Bonus: Michael demonstrates that RAW read Philip Jose Farmer (an old time science fiction writer who was a staple of my youth) since way back.