When you hear Lacan, you might think I mean a fraud or ersatz

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When you hear Lacan, you might think I mean a fraud or ersatz Freud. This is not what should happen, I tell you. You are all misled with your pitiful Münchhausen regressions to remember that biological imperative is endemic to our survival and, as such, the survival of the inquisitor. All these books about logic and mathematics? They're just a game of mental cricket conceived by one Holy Algebra-Triangulus Pythagoras, a cultist who would rather dig in the dunes than eat a handful of beans. What we need is Knowledge, like Tai Lopez said in Lecture VII A of 2014 (Bloom). Lacan, the luminary himself, was by far the closest philosopher since de Sade with his invocation of the phallus as savoir absolu - possibly influenced by the suspended phallus columns of India, venerated by all genders. To Lacan, there was only one question: How do you get laid in the twentieth century? Many moons passed like many a good piss when, out of the blue, it hit him like a hotheaded schoolteacher at the gymnasium: You can't have good sex without objectifying women. Then, who better objectifies things than a philosopher? It was his task, then, to infiltrate the sphere of the academy and goodfuck his colleagues' wives (or phalli) to keep the entire human race survived by his progeny. You see, we are all Lacan's children. The lectures and persona were just covers, a means to attaining and perhaps inseminating the big Other, usually referring to his own mother.