When I first heard Adele say Postmodern the other day I shuddered and gasped out loud. “Oh! That WORD”, I exclaimed. Nobody else in the group seemed particularly bothered by it or even noticed my comment, as Adele moved on to another favourite of hers, Poststructuralism. I was relieved she decided not to delve deeper, choosing not to peel the proverbial onion skin layer by layer.
Once upon a time I had immersed myself in all things deconstructive. On my 22nd birthday party, which is but a distant memory now, Jeff, my accounting lecturer at Sydney Uni gave me two books as presents. When I flipped through the pages I discovered that they were comic books. One was called ‘Introducing Foucault’, or as Jeff liked to pronounce it, “Fuck-oh”. The other was ‘Introducing Postmodernism’.
That dreaded WORD again.
Jeff’s dedication reads:
Keep entertaining and being entertained!
It is these two comic books that sends me spiralling down the path to insanity! I won’t go into the all the gory details about my descent into madness, that’s another novel altogether. Needless to say, it was the end of the world as we know it. This nihilistic view is encapsulated by the following two poems of mine from ‘Tales of Informative Uncertainty’.
Our mind adventures,
Such devoted companions
Until euphoria no longer a dream.
Sanity entices the question,
“Asylum in reality?”
A dejected spirit awaits
This gifted soul
Denies shelter bliss.
Bereft of all
A will to discontinue.
It took several years until I fully recovered from the trauma that was Postmodernism. Many meltdowns and two trips to hospital later, my sanity has thankfully been restored. But now that it has reared its ugly head once again, I wonder how long until PMSD strikes back with a vengeance?