communicable diseases

Some odd evenings I stumble into the souk by accident, making through creative navigation a labyrinth of only slightly serpentine alleys...the score from Battle of Algiers pounds in my head as I dodge darting children and guard my cache of grenades. Last night I made courge spaghetti à la JE dining hall, then forged a new nexus of the virtual and the real by half-consciously ashing on the discarded radio of my lungs. Later I used Romain's computer, the sole to siphon the neighbors' internet, and managed to taper on the foreign keys, which would arouse Liz's jealousy if her erotic imagination were as virtually mediated as mine.

Still I try to engage Liz in critical inquiry, knowing full well it will degenerate into a performance of political correctness.

"So, gays in the military...?"
"It works in Britain, and, like, Israel..."
"Yeah well there's this crisis in, like, heterosexual male subjectivity..."
"No I'm pretty sure homophobia, the Red States, some general wants gays to burn in hell..."
"...the fear of infection from within, the emasculation of being under the homosexual gaze, you know the Lacan thing about bathrooms?"
"Isn't that what they used to say about black people?"

We didn't really communicate anything...I wanted to make a pun about AIDS but thought that would communicate too much, although it only would have been topical.