Positivism is dead. Postmodernism is dead. What we see waltzing around us in the apparel of these phantoms is nothing but their dancing cadavers, held fast to the bosom of pathetic necrophiliacs who cannot bear to be parted from the dead or let them have their rest. For these lost souls, at any rate, the light of life has not yet dawned. They remain, perhaps, under the dominion of the dark lord, perpetually dancing their last dance with Mary Jane amid the night of the living dead, where it is always Halloween but never Christmas. But I say: for heaven’s sake: bury Mary Jane. She’s dead. She stinks. Her flesh is falling from her bones. Get a life. Bury the stinking corpse.For context, read Dr. Blosser's lecture here.
For the record, I celebrate Christmas.