May 25, 2005
The stranger rode on a Mexican pinto into the town of Patriarchy,
where previously there had been reports of sporadic post-individualism
breaking out in the barrios. The sheriff, filled with logocentrism,
had rounded up the leaders in order of signification,
all except for Hosé, who had escaped by night to Slippage
and even now was making free passage to the state of Textuality,
where he would find himself once again in the arms of Miss Textuality.
An expert in the devious arts of acute patriarchy,
she could charm him with her secret wiles into post-individualism,
all liberally administered with copious amounts of logocentrism
in a long tall glass, mixed with Coca-Cola and a dash of signification.
After several of these, there was always the tendency of slippage
between this world and the next. Her real name was Ella. Slippage
into something more comfortable—she knew how he liked the textuality
of her curves—enabled her ably to rouse her lover’s patriarchy,
which she knew would inevitably lead to post-individualism
in the big brass bed of her room in the Hotel Logocentrism.
Thus, they spent many long afternoons in a state of signification.
Meanwhile, the posse rode into town searching for Signification,
who, rumors said, was hiding under the guise of Thaddeus Slippage,
barber and undertaker. He was up to his eyes in textuality,
but that had not prevented him from dealing in unlicensed patriarchy
round the back of his premises. Hosé, still deep in post-individualism,
knowing full well he operated under the shadow of logocentrism,
heard the commotion, and would have fled but his latent logocentrism
prevented him from joining in the hunt and ensured Signification
would escape his fate. So it was he who succumbed to the slippage
that he knew full well would probably end in textuality
and a long stay in the caboose at Fort Patriarchy
with no chance of a reprieve, unless found innocent of post-individualism,
which wasn’t on the cards. However, it was finally Ella’s own post-individualism
that led her to betray her man, on account of his logocentrism
with another woman. This was the cowgirl at the Rio Signification
who, so legend had it, had a particular habit of slippage
into something less comfortable, whilst stroking a man’s textuality,
so it was no surprise when our story ended in patriarchy
and moral turpitude. Patriarchy rode away on a horse called Post-individualism
and no one learned from the slippage that settled on the plain of Textuality
whilst the stranger’s own logocentrism was largely without signification.
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