‘All meaning is defined by context. And context is
boundless.’
(Post-structuralist
dictum)
The signifier stands empty, like a trap.
‘To classify a text, define its genre.’
No moping Hamlet crammed with windy words
He thrust the barrel in his mouth. It spoke.
A haughty athlete, doomed, unchanced for life,
Tall captain, fool, self-slayer, lover, ghost,
Dead victor dragged in dust round burning walls.
False Cressida had deconstructed love.
Her crooked text betrayed him. Paper horse!
He blue steel smashed his teeth. Her eyes were ice.
The pterosaur crawled from its fossil egg,
A kissing carrion grinning at the sun.
Declassify the genre? Just squeeze the trigger.
The trap snaps shut upon the signified.
[i] The son
of a friend of mine fell in love with a beautiful and precocious sixteen year
old schoolgirl, only to have the affair broken by their parents. After becoming
Victor Ludorum at his college sports day, he said goodbye to his friends at the celebratory party, went
home, and blew his brains out with his father’s shotgun.
COPYRIGHT (C) 2010 J D FRODSHAM
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