I. Nature of the Linguistic Sign
Nature: the dying bride of Language. We smoke Hemlock and elect a Beagle to teach us its Language. The roots of a Magnolia penetrate our Bunker’s Roof. We won’t let Them touch our Dictionaries. For eight troubled months we lived without language. If the World would exist, Language would posses the efficacy of our Personal Care Products. Language is our Hostile Witness. Our Ancestors, living far from Large Cities, illegally distilled Powerful Language from Corn. This is the origin of NASCAR. Built above an Ancient Burial Ground, our Language is haunted by Angry Spirits.
II. Immutability and Mutability of the Sign
Injecting itself with our obscure obscenities, language falls back in reverie. Language swells with the sweat of our investors. Unable to pronounce “menagerie,” language mumbles “trash.” Language diagrams the historical significance of our hairstyles without using adverbs. Our belief in language keeps it from dying. As a bitter young man, language lived in poverty and isolation among the crowds of a large city. Language has, as its principle means of travel, the secrecy of a worm. We approach language with monstrous pictures in our hands.
III. Static and Evolutionary Linguistics
Language drops a storm of leaflets on our subdivision from a helicopter. Language guides us through sewers. Language blooms under the touch of our Reiki masters. We are assistants. Language sneaks up and slaps each one of us on the left ass cheek. Everyday, language consumes its weight in ground pork. We hear language hiding in the tunneled soil under Town Street. Empty of will, language sleeps on the path of our intentions. Crouching in our cousin’s basement, language clutches a dye-stained bank bag.
