I, and others differently worse, get crazy weird atomically granular with how things mean. Derrida and some people I’ve known comin’ up young professors in the new cool discipline of rhetoric (the new Victorian), semiotics, and anthropologists devoting a life to documenting the enormous global impact that the faint rising lilt that one jungle crowd put on the end of their word for fart in vulgar impetuosity toward the hoard through yonder who toed closer the line of fart’s standard jungle pronunciation.

Like me in the grammercies, insisting on the horribly esoteric nuance of a normally nonbelonging letter between normallly very belonging, which came about by just-in-time-and-strictly-fleeting revelation, so that the meaning derived from that nuance becomes the only thing that ever has been or will be completely uncompromisedly for me and by me, therefore true, and sublime, and indulgent, and irefutable, shaking.

Well,it just suddenly feels like such a kindship with pharmaceutical scientists, astrophysicists, and zen gardeners.

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