I was glued to the screen, for here was Dawkins (whose work I've been reading and immensely enjoy - quite useful, that) and crew for the most part trashing something else I had gotten great use out of and have a fondness for (postmodern theory). Granted, I haven't gotten much into the big names of postmodern theorists. As an undergrad, I've read people talking about those big-name theorists and their ideas and have read some short selections from the Frankfurt School members, a bit of Foucault and Butler, some cultural studies in a reader on the subject, and one of my favorite books is Riki Wilchins Queer Theory, Gender Theory: An Instant Primer. This book purports to explain briefly, and then apply to real life, ideas from feminist, queer, and postmodern theories. Having not been steeped in all of those even to the level of a grad student, I wouldn't say I'm in a position to judge how well the book does what it says, but I can say it was an experience in liberation for me, reading those 157 pages.
So, as I said, I was glued to the screen. All night. For nine pages of "debate!" I had a fitful near two hours sleep after that, in which I was plagued by never-ending argumentation on postmodernism, voices taking on authoritative pitch making my head swim. After all this, I awoke with one thing, one seemingly very important question on my mind: "Yes, but WHY is the Rum gone?!?"
Seriously, it made so much sense to me, that this be the concluding question I should come to, that I asked it of my children. Why is the Rum gone? My eldest declared it wasn't, and proceeded to bring me the half-full bottle from the kitchen counter. I could only answer, "Yes, but WHY is the Rum gone? That doesn't answer my question!" The children shortly got annoyed. Not as annoyed as the day I decided to speak only French until noon, in order to brush up on my speaking French, as opposed to my writing French, which was the French I used for French class essays and fill-in-the-blank tests and such. What good is a foreign language if you can't speak it? (Another question I feel should be asked of the postmodern debaters on Dawkins' site, actually.)
After a bit, the kiddos concluded that their parental unit was just off being half-crazy again and went with it. It's a pirate day. Why is the Rum gone? Ha ha! But seriously, I had originally wanted to go post my question about the rum to the postmodern debaters. But I was afraid I'd just get eaten alive like a first-time sailor lovingly taunting mermaids in White Cap Bay. No, safer to post it here, where no one is really likely to ever read it, especially those debaters drunk off the debate and their own clear vision, which they can't ever reconcile with the clear vision of the other guy in the debate. It is like they were speaking two different languages, which just happened to share many of the same words! (Hmmmm) (Reminded me of arguments with my ex, actually.)
But I can feel better having said (rather, asked) it - Why is the Rum gone? - despite the fact that it most likely looks like it does not go here, in this particular blog about gender adventures. Except that it does. Because postmodernism informs my take on gender, much as it does Riki Wilchins.' Furthermore, I've had some information come across my desk(top) recently which indicates to me that I ought indeed to have some regular creative outlet in my life, to help me make sense of all the streams and bits of information constantly flowing into my head, which I then have to weave into my understanding of things or discard (something). So here. This is my creative letting-out for the day. On postmodernism. Or rather, on a discussion thread about postmodernism. Why is the Rum gone? When clearly, it is there, right on the counter, where I left it, half-drank.
