Critical Theory: the practice of philosophical abstraction applied to texts according to a clearly agreed-upon set of principles which arise from recognition that, in the inevitably contextual situation of literary works from within their various material, cultural, political and aristic necessities, the entire scope of even just one aspect of any literature—so daunting in terms of history, genre, criticism, authors, politics, geography and methods it relates to, if even also religious (which impossibly complicates matters)—can not be meaningfully grasped without recourse to re-iterative examination of principles underlying these concepts

Philosophy of Language is a bunch of old white guys who learned no foreign language but How to Devise Real Elaborate, Abstract Equivalencies in order to make rather obvious, counter-intuitively clever pronouncements in front of captive audience so as to be able to sit around all day at leisure and think about words in series divorced from any and every instance of context to denigrate each other’s Essays On Why I’m Not Wrong (if not ingenious bits of intuitively logical guess-work) resulting from a flawed analogy that no one ever stopped to question as it would really have screwed up the assumptions they based a whole career on.

Of all her putative fathers—Max Schlepzig and masked extras
on one side of the moving film, Franz Pökler and certainly other
pairs of hands busy through trouser cloth, that Alpdrücken night,
on the other—Bianca is closest, this last possible moment be-
low decks here behind the ravening jackal, closest to you who
came in blinding color, slouched alone in your own seat, never
threatened along any rookwise row or diagonal all night, you w-
hose interdiction from her mother’s water-white love is absolute,
you, alone, saying, sure I know them, omitted, chuckling count me
in, unable, thinking probably some hooker…She favors you, mos-
t of all. You’ll never get to see her. So somebody had to tell you.

If you understand how these two things are related to, and even the same at heart as one other — also how it is they were both sprung from the horribly misunderstood wellspring of their putative, Max Schlepzig-like, paranoia-for-pay type of respective fathers then you must also know how we mean none other than the Two Most Heavy Weight Grandaddies of All This Fussy Confusion: That this is right, none other than The Ludwig Wittgenstein and Mr. Friedrich Nietzsche!