ago have not heard enough or read anything about the closure of the great stories, the end of ideologies, the micropolitics of desire, or even the rhizome that seemed so nice. Long ago that almost any blog is dedicated to glorifying the fragment or put the word "cleavage" to refer to a broken zipper. Van thinning criticism of the Enlightenment and I hardly hear anyone boast their lack of certainty or abuse of counterfeit little word "undecidable". It seems that having to use reason to survive was to reflect on those who made redundant, perhaps so as not meeting these ambiguously ironic claims of silly, silly, and gross taradez divine.
not mention the "end of history" because I could not sell the book to a shepherd Fukuyama Centennial Park ("Oops black, but that is a rivet!"). It is true: new age remains, as there will always tarot and Ladroncito of all kinds, but the core of postmodernism seems more angry or have realized its dissolution.
What about Lyotard? Is there life after Deleuze-Guattari? "Julia Kristeva and filled his pockets? How does not delve into Luce Irigaray and sexed equation?
Che, seriously where are they?
do not know if this concern is due to the loss of the adversary, or rather to the dramatic exercise to imagine what other creepy pelotudeces will be cooking right now ...
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