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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