My wife would prefer I not go to a talk by someone who wrote so extensively about adultery.
If updike brought even a tenth of the genius to writing his lecture as he brought to the line ‘his hands were like wild birds’ we’d be in for a real treat.
Grease-gray and kind of coiled.
Also I think the whole Russell’s-paradox thing is getting old, and that keeping Updike in the game will make next round’s battle against Nietzsche more fun. And, one more thing: Updike’s got the basketball connection. Can you imagine Bertrand Russell playing hoops? I don’t think so.
Hey, how did Derrida even make it into the second round?? There must’ve been some mistake.
Derrida’s last victory was an aporia. It was also Derrida’s last victory. By which I mean it was a victory for his mechanical foot. But is it a vic(tory) or are we all vic(tims)? I could go on like this for another hour, which shows how masturbatory Derrida’s technique is. Not that I’m actually masturbating at the moment. Not that there would be anything wrong with that. Carlin, please.
Carlin. How many times as Derrida hosted Saturday Night Live?
When we read of Derrida’s death, my friends and I breathed a sigh of relief. When we heard of Carlin’s death four years later, we chatted about how he changed the way we thought about ourselves, each other, and the world. I suspect our reactions would be the same at the conclusion of each respective proposed seminar.
Andrew, salvage whoever you like from the previous eliminations. This round is irrelevant.