Towards a theory of metaphysics

There is a division inherent to the notion of the middle-class. The pandering of the West--or, the infallibility of the term 'working families' across the political spectrum--to the 'citizen' is a response to the dignified and racist anger of those citizens who work for a living contra those who do not have regular employment. Political allegiance is the phantasmic comprehension of this reversal in possibility: a fetish.

Daytime television retains the traces of what was known as a broadcast, a less fractured landscape of reruns and serials. Older americans sit on public furniture and watch bonanza between commercials about medicare  supplements, mobility scooters, and other demographically appropriate devices of infirmity and recognition.

The eastside italian deli is staffed by diffident post-young latino males. It has a surprisingly open interior with new paint and several flat screen televisions. The overall sensibility is catholic masculine, a unnecessary gruffness bordering on pomp and some obsession with the realities of character, as would befit  a mexi-talian deli frequented by cops.

There are families eating sandwiches so large they require a fork, a value of meat portions. Families who themselves have nephews incarcerated and nieces pregnant just beyond the decade. These are families who believe they are keeping some great calamity at bay, that credit and insurance will run interference against the void that stalks the bodies of children and organs. Everyday a love begins again inside a cluttered house of demands. Everyday a love returns with the long expectations of the name.

The true question of value for our age is how do we meet people.

Here was a man who had long sought vintage objects by which he sought to style his home, or oikos. It was a minimal style, which signifies taste.

It was against this precise background of existentialism, or rather the genre's populist appreciation that made deconstruction unable to publicly take root here in america. Rather, it took a batch of cellular networking commercials for americans to begin to think in deconstructive imaginaries, to begin the style of a global, cosmopolitan thinking. Our popular culture, so often the seedbed for primitive accumulation, is full of references to existentialism, well through the nineties  and into the millennium, which often functioned as a kind of 'shorthand' or 'reference' for a kind of pretentious academic yuppie whose impotence is a briefly alluring and fascinating foil: they who think they are somebody, and they who have the totem power of the prince, that reviled figure of strange perversion: the devil entertains your freedom. You are a thing that don't get to see what you are. You are so natural and nasty. The law is the law.

This master signifier of the bus. The boy along the city street gave the bus driver a knowing look as he backed onto the curb again. The look of one who knows how to catch the ball.