Derrida

I am not going to eulogize Derrida, because it is probably unseemly and uncharitable to use words like "gasbag" or "con man" or "fraud" while speaking of the recently deceased. And anyway, I never met the man. Perhaps he was a wonderful sort who was simply a little confused in his writing. So confused that he perfected the art of writing without actually saying anything.

And this is the way to speak of Derrida. Not Derrida the man, who, as I mentioned, may have been good people and all that. Rather, we can attack the work he left, and preferably with a can of gasoline and a book of matches.

Go ahead, pick up one of his books and diagram several of the sentences. You might be surprised to learn that in many cases he really was saying nothing. Nada. Zip. Nil. Of course for someone who thought that language made communication nearly impossible, this is probably fitting.

Anyway, thanks to OGIC, I read this very funnny article in the Guardian. Especially read what Denis MacShane had to say.