Post-Structuralism—ha! The very name confesses the underlying reactionary and unoriginal character of its adherents!

Despite their desperate attempts to muddy the shallow waters of their soul to keep it hidden—despite their efforts to evade categorization—the post-structuralist inevitably reveals themselves through predictable outcries against “verbal violence,” “exclusion,” and “privilege.”

On one hand, the reactionary wields obscurity to conceal the shamefulness of her philosophical body; on the other, her shallowness renders her incapable of grasping—let alone articulating—the full breadth of her own worldview.

Come—let us undress her philosophy, examine what lies beneath, and reveal—in her own amplified voice—the murky contents at the bottom of her soul-puddle: “Structuralism, an outgrowth of Western grand narratives, is an oppressive force that divides the world into rigid hierarchical binary categories and constructs meaning accordingly. Like any hierarchy, one term is always privileged in a binary category while its counterpart is subordinated, othered, and excluded. The tendency of western narratives to center one term, such as ‘male,’ and marginalize the other, in this case ‘female,’ is not a mere valuation but linguistic violence. In their rigidity, binary categories silence the less privileged by closing off the hierarchical values they impose from re-examination. This rigidity is justified by the appearance of the privileged term’s ‘definite and independent presence.’ However, the very presence and meaning of these terms is always contingent on what they exclude—light exists in relation to darkness, male in relation to female, and rationality in relation to emotion. Finally, society itself and the meaning therein is an outgrowth of its overarching narrative. Because grand narratives form the bedrock of civilizations, the institutions emerging from this bedrock are subject to the same binary classification schema which grant power to some while excluding it from others. Consequently, it is morally imperative to ask ‘who is excluded, silenced, and marginalized’ that we may include them and amplify their voice.”

I concede—in fact, I’ll take her philosophy even further than she dares!

In the unconscious depths of the psyche lurk competing wills, each seeking to monopolize ego-consciousness for the sake of its own self-expression and expansion. It is ego-consciousness—wielded by the unconscious mind—that cleaves the world into binary categories, both living and abstract. Like adversarial pirates aboard separate vessels, competition arises not only between underlying wills but also between the willed agents themselves. Indeed, hierarchical arrangements emerge from such conflict—but the generative meaning lies not in the hierarchy itself, but in the processes of self-expression, expansion, and overcoming. Beyond merely being represented by grand narratives, these processes reflect the very structure of narrative itself—there is no story without struggle, without protagonism and antagonism.

Truthfully, the post-structuralist already knows this to be the case—albeit subconsciously—and admits as much through her protests.

Secretly, she desires to express and expand herself—and that desire, intermingled with her inability to actualize it, speaks the phrase: “Make space for the marginalized.”

The very phrase acknowledges an adversarial occupancy of the axiological landscape—one she seeks to displace with her own presence and self-expansion.

Lacking both force and persuasive ability, she resorts to guilt and pleads with her adversary to concede axiological territory.

Friends and foes alike: the axiological landscape belongs to those who command awe and admiration as exceptional exemplars of worthy values. Accordingly, space cannot be given—it must be earned.

To those few who do not wallow in their ugliness by pouring mud upon an already filthy character—those who instead obscure an underlying beauty, perhaps out of shame for their own splendor—I place my sponge upon your feet, hands, and face to wash them clean and to permit an unapologetic expression of self.

On the other hand, even the “fiercest” advocates of structuralism reveal a form of reactionary cowardice—a fear of uncertainty, chaos, and doubt.

What is the nature of the motive to create an objective and totalizing system if not to release the tension inherent to chaos and put an end to hierarchical conflict? In effect, it is equally criminal to those declaring their desire to flatten all hierarchies—to end struggle—the very thing that produces existential meaning!

Concerning grand narratives, consider the greatest one you have ever encountered: where does its meaning truly reside? In its conclusion? Or do you secretly wish you had never encountered it at all—so that you might relive the journey, experiencing anew the very processes by which its conclusions were reached?

Accordingly, the Grandest Narrative—if it is ever to exist and remain a true wellspring of meaning—must be written not simply to be read, but to be re-read, reinterpreted, dismantled, and rebuilt again for all eternity.