Eyes roll when he opens his mouth, I grant that; but rarely do they drift asleep on a sea of banality, as mine were tempted to watching the many, many Žižek-centric extras on Children of Men. I happily hold his strange blend of Lacanian and Hegelian thought against him—these assumptions, I think in ridiculously stentorian tones, I cannot bear. But I'd never been bored by the man before last night; yet there I was, on my couch, listening to his Slavic-lilt and wanting to slit my wrists. He declared many things, and strongly, and many other things strongly too ... but he never made much of an interesting point, nor did he say much of anything I hadn't already thought.
Which is when I realized that his lackluster performance was probably not his fault. I don't share many (if any) assumptions with Žižek, so if I could muster on my own approximately what he'd said, that meant either 1) I'm a sleeper-Lacanian or 2) many, many hours of footage had been edited until all that remained were a few clips that sounded smart to the dropouts working the editing suite. Whatever he'd said that was peculiar to himself had been chopped in order to satisfy someone else's (mistaken) idea of what an intellectual sounds like.
However, I could almost reconstruct the interesting strain of thought Žižek wanted to follow there. It had something to do with the challenges countries with no written constitution face when the traditional (common law) order on which they teeter finally crumbles. He said as much once, and would've elaborated in his discussion of the "rootlessness of boats" had someone decided to include that footage in the piece. I would try to reconstruct the argument in full ... but as I said, I'm not quite equipped for that climb.