Nothing exists outside of the text – the purest of pharmakons. Jacques Derrida, father of deconstruction and one of my favorite post-structuralist philosophers, died from cancer at the age of 74 on Friday night. Although always controversial, to me, Derrida was one of the new philosophers who actually lived in reality (note: not to be confused with The Real); a space not made of binaries; one where the language we speak is recognized as a core influence on how we understand the world.
I’m sad I never got to meet him.
But, in celebration of his life (er, rather, just cuz we could), me Ralphy B, and Nicola (sp?) went out on the town last night. As someone who always believed myself to be “Jozi and not Cape Town” all the way through, it was nice to see the right night life of our mountain side. I met some cool art stars, had some fanfab drinks, went for some la-dee-da-dee-we-likes-to-party dancing; yeh, I think I actually dig this place….
Don’t tell anyone in Joburg.
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