The current sub-Lacanian anti-philosophical wunderkind clutched to the bosom of the unemployable theory fetishists of academia is Zizek. The world of haute couture is as nothing compared to the lockstep crazes and seasonal tastes of the humanities faculty.
Those of you still trying to slip more references to Hardt and Negri’s Empire into each sentence than your workmates will have to book a month or two off, this man can write impenetrable theory-like verbiage in such volume that individual sheets could have been dropped on Parisian May ’68 rioters to intimidate them intellectually.
Get with the programme people!

(What is it with Lacan? The obvious falsity of his nonsense seems only to inspire his acolytes to greater conviction.)

Posted in Aesthetics, Satire