A THING by M. ROANOKE
I Can’t Even With Noam Chomsky Right Now
Noam Chomsky is all:
Why don’t you know about East Timor
You don’t even know all the genocide that is happening
Your inaction and ignorance kills
Nuclear War is Bad
Propaganda is a Thing
and
Universal Grammar
How do you like them apples, B.F. Skinner
Fuck you Koko and Bees that’s not Language
Language is for Humans
Syntax is Magic
But Noam Chomsky is also all:
I am Jack’s raging, breathing, broken heart longing for Tyler’s touch on my bare skin as I catch his gaze, his eyes reflecting only my face, and as I cum I wonder why this feels better we feel closer than if he were really here.
I am Tyler’s soft clever smile, and strong callused hands, making my way down your chest, to your waist, taking you into my mouth softly at first and then fucking you into oblivion while you wonder which of us would be the better father.
And it’s not like elders haven’t always been horny, but personally I’m having a hard time squaring this last side of Chomsky with all the others. Yes, Fight Club includes a mild critique of capitalism that politely ignores racism, and women, and I can see why this would resonate with this particular anarcho-syndicalist libertarian socialist towering intellectual of the American Left.
But this man is older than my own grandfathers, and he had a significant influence on my understanding of any number of deeply unerotic concepts, like imperialism, and language acquisition, and the role of dissidents in a democracy. So, although I respect his right and his ability to be more than just his popular academic/activist public image, and believe, as you do, that we all contain multitudes, it’s just like. I mean. There are limits, right?
M. Roanoke (they/them) is a queer folk artist based in Kansas City, Missouri. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Rejection Letters, Misery Tourism, and elsewhere. They are on Twitter.