But Derrida is Dead

Roy Exley

picture this if you may
the multitudes have gone digital
sloughed analogues clog the drains
[so far so good]
busily they refine
their versions of the truth
[necessity is a hard master]
truth as a mutable field of course
and reality as a movable feast
ontology joins flat earth theory
in the anachronisms bin
[things are hotting up]
if what works goes
and what goes flows
don't think linear flow
but radial flow you know
[the digital highway
is a crude misnomer
born of binary thought]
[oh to by-pass the synapse]
if flow's the same as flux and
around's the same as through
then we're up
the semiological khyber
and there's nothing
we can do
in the final analysis
there'll be no knowing
how to get there
or even where to go
until cyber-thought
kicks in online
and relieves us
of that need
when the multitudes
on auto-feed
their desires supplied
by I-thought pods
a button-push away
their futures on permanent hold
as forever is today
disobedience is a blasphemy
and flux flickers and fades
finding that it's fucked
like a forgotten fad
and all that's crap
gathers in the interstices
like downloaded devil's dust
some sort of cosmic deja vu
has hit the pulsing ether
like repetitious news
it speaks without a speaker
echoing from head to head
'Virilio has been vindicated
but Derrida is dead'