1 pla te a u two many

yer Ass

_Le Q uestion did yo do yor degree i n Paris? Yes I did the doctoral degree dissertation et la j'ai le dissertation blu es_______________
Well, said Mona, when this nasty literalist idiot assualted her.

__ Is this the deterritorializatio of matter of speaki ng? In deed In deed____ resuk me then, love __.
We stoop to conquer. Mona found her copy of withering wee snyopsis
of 'Someone' was calling Lyotard. It was clear also that some on e
hated her cousin Chomsky. But why? Was there something wrong with Not
agreeing with Deleuze and Daddy? geepers thought Mona, maybe I should
masturbate more often and not let those nasty brainy cells get in the way
of the dance of the seven veils. Well, maybe someone's ideas might be
useful for caca rolls;used toilet paper, snot rags, sperm wipers,
dingle berry cleaners. Who knows? wHen things got Nasty well Mona knew how__ Dung Dumpers!
to Fart in your General Direction, and wave her hermaphroditic balls in
yer Aunty's face. She knew all this.
She was not afraid of her arse or her ass, or her asses, or her
shit or her cacapeepeetalisms or her bodies without organs and without
limbs for that matter. And who cared if some mental case thought Mona
wanted her Daddy__[and so she did and did not, and it was raining and was
Only those who have lost Daddies knows what it means to
search for them. 'Daddy, Daddy, you bastard, I'm through' said Sylvia.
Nor was Mona afraid of Lacan, or Freud or JFL. In fact they had been
lovers in the long morning ofthe 70's. Haha But only an academic would
attack a welfare recipient, only an academic would deny what Franny
Guattari had said 'there will be irreducible antagonisms between groups
and let it be so' yes, so why herd us all into the Same mental case
anxiety of we are All the Same. What shite caca sneezed Mona and Jill and
Franny said we can demonstrate against the jerk if you want. - or
perhaps a frustrated delirious paranoid academic who hated anything feminine and not wearing what wither thought were lyotards. Mona wore lyotards all thetime, she also had a Libidinal Economy that suited her fine.
But what can one say a new comer idiot? Nothing. She and Franny got Jill.
Jill counselled as usual ignoring the idiot. Best war is retreat when
dealing with idiots, literalists, and nasties.

She came back next day wearing shoes plaien socks and hair rigs or ringlets roundr tie A belt bleat the sleet sheep of resurrection.

-- Frann y yells you mea convection right?
--Jill I mean it gotta bea subjective pamplemouse to get the thing over Ou r hair is like this a ray a wave of o comig field Thi s the s bjective. O r ass is
sweater than honey and rarer.

Comes round Mona

Monafound a long lost note written by her Daddy. To her, and her
alone. She knew Jill was her mother father. Her Fama Her fatima. Her
Famamamatima. And she was Christ Deleuze of the thousand stories and
strobes.She openedher notebook one night and there was the note translated
in golden glittering letters. Something her mamapapa had left heras a
legacy. How to Understand the thinkers!!!

'Lyotard calls 'childhood' this movement that sweeps away
language and traces an alwasys repressed limit of language;"Infatia what
does not speak to itself. A childhood is not a period of life and does
not pass on. It haunts discourse...What does not allow itself to be
written, in writing, perhaps calls forth a reader who no longer knows how
to read, or not yet...." See,___ Jean-Francois Lyotard, Lectures d'enfance
__Paris:Galilee, 91__ p 9.'

So Mona always find a place between thinkers where her selves the
word grievers strode the way. And so it was . And she was. and so was the
Dada Christ Deleuze with Jean-Francois and their divagations and ....
This little quote may be found in the beautifully translated Essays
Critical and Clinical - 1997. But really it was her chilhood, her infatia
which enchanted enraptured. So she became a lover to the lovers .

And Mona knew these words translated through the byways of scrolls
unravelled in time space over space times cyber word were her Daddy
Deleuze's last words to her. Then her Dada, said, she said, her dada said
her Maman said, I ain't got no Mama Papa.


Mafa mapa est g uroo de temps

CommentAAh~__ to the glossed text

So, Mona is worse than the Lacanians. They, at least, are only looking for
the Father. But Mona's looking for "daddy". Schizo-sisters of desire my

"Schizo-sisters of desire" and "your ass"?

what an interesting conjunction....