When you're right, you're right. I'm a bit of a zealot, I must admit, and I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I think I got too close to this book, fell in love with it, and got militant because of that.
Looking back, I can see that I am a product of How to Be a Mother****ing Pimp. It might have warped my mind a bit, but I learned how to make crack, meth, and PCP. Perhaps that's the problem. I also learned how to come to terms with existence through a critical interrogation of street culture and how to embrace post-structuralism, or the 'sense of it', if you will, when it all seemed just so esoteric.
I remember, looking back when I was a grad student (Phd Lit), it was hard for me. There is simply too much to digest, and where do you start anyway? You can't just 'read' Derrida, can you, without being fully versed in the entirety of the western philosophical tradition?
I found this book accessible. I struggled in places, but that is the performative dimension. Perhaps therein lies the charm.
Don't know. See for yourself. Maybe it is an entire crock of ****. But, then again...