I think this might apply to heterosexuals who fear someone's going to sneak up and grab their basket, but the quicker we get past that the better.
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<http://mailman.lbo-talk.org/pipermail/lbo-talk/Week-of-Mon-20080602/009662.html>
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4 am
Can't sleep.
Earlier, I tried to explain to my dry cleaner, Sigismundo, that contra Butler and other signifier twisting madcaps, my heterosexuality was based on solid ground indeed: DNA, RNA, the mating habits of dinosaurs, random bits of (undoubtedly hetero) amino acid buried in the interior of crashing asteroids, my relentless checking out of asses (female).
Unexpectedly, after listening to several hours of lecturing, Sigismundo kicked me out. What does he have to fear? Is he a pomo'ianist basket grabber? A stealer of meaning? If so, where will I go to have my stylish fedora blocked and cleaned?
9 am
The coffee is awful. I spit it out into the office kitchen's sink, studying the spreading pattern of coffee and saliva. Suddenly, it's all clear to me: liquefied coffee beans also reinforce and verify the inviolability of my biologically determined hetero basket. The signs are everywhere for those with eyes to see and bad coffee to spit out.
4:30 pm
Settled down in the park to a reading of Marx on my Kindle. The bench is uncomfortable and covered with pigeon droppings. Squirrels surround me. Perhaps they're also basket stealers, genetically muddled by over-exposure to the growth hormone treated meat they pilfer from the trash can. Yes, I see it now: they're Butlerian squirrels, eying my basket with thievery in mind.
.d.
-- "I keep trying to tell you people: The sharks are everywhere and they crave human meat! "
Ian Spiegelman
...................... http://monroelab.net/blog/