The reason why the Tailorite objects so vehemently to literal interpretation of the Qur’an and Torah (circumcision, genocide, warfare, menstruation, wife beating, etc) is clear. He occupies a perverse religious subjecthood: he is a bio-spiritual assemblage, the biological machine connected to the tafsir symbolic machine, but (unnaturally, anally) via a repressive-ecstatic interface, as opposed to the (natural, indigenous) conduits of genetically inherited habitus.
He obtains pleasure through the denial of the body that is so intimately conjoined to the scripture that he reads.
His tafsir machine, superficially, appears to generate a creative play that subverts/deconstructs the primacy of the material (bodily function) within the scripture. But it’s more complicated than that.
He denies the literal meaning of menstruation in Islam, invoking the Juadaic trope, that menstruation is the cycle of Torah’s reading, a cycle of Truth’s harvest. He denies the literal meaning of the hadeeth concerning the direction of defecation and the undesirability of standing in urination, considering these to spiritually intimate the deeper (self-referential) nature of reading as consumption of grain/discarding husks of Truth (never toward the South, the Southern city of Mecca, the city of Love, and never standing, because, again invoking an assumed Judaic mysticism, to stand is to engage in the diamond dialectic of the two feet, Hod and Netzach, Aaron and Moses).
It appears as though he denies the literal interpretation. It also appears that he denies the straightforward metaphoric. In actuality, the pleasure of the tafsir, thus generated, lies in the repression of desire for the body, the real, biological entity, that bleeds and shits, that hurts and is hurt. Specifically, a desire to possess, to substitute his own globalized body of displacement (his empty, dislocated body) for the valuable (fetishized) locality of an indigenous Islamic body. His desire, repressed, the source of that tafsir-as-symptom, is for that blood, for that shit, to hurt and, ultimately, to be hurt.
And the unspeakability of that desire, thus repressed, forms a repressive-ecstatic interface from the biological machine into the symbolic factory, enunciated, blogged, inscribed jouissance that is necessarily playful, humorous, evasive, an embodied schitzo metonymy (“It’s not about real sex, but it’s not a metaphor either, it’s metonymy”) and, in this way, self-consistent with its narcissistic ideal, the “Prophetic”.
The Tailorite tafsir machine is not a simple denial of the literal, nor a productive evasive metonymic generator of pure (evasive) light. It generates evasion as a symptom because its interface is evasion: generated, perverse, covetous desire of the religious subject’s bio-essence, its DNA-culture, so blatantly flowing through every line of scripture. Like a vampire, the globalized Tailorite desires to feed upon that blood to re-constitute itself as culturally authentic and real, sexually fulfilled — but, because of the unspeakability of this — instead generates the evasive symptom.