A Monster (n.) is etymologically a being to be shown — which is what madmen remained until the nineteenth century.
A Monster (n.) in Aldrovandi was a single text that heaped together everything seen, observed, recounted, passed on by word of mouth, and even imagined by the poets.
A Monster (n.) is the background noise, the endless murmur of nature: it does in time, for theory, what floods, volcanoes and sinking continents undo in space for everyday experience.
A Monster (n.) caricatures the genesis of differences, as the fossil, in its uncertain resemblances, recalls the first buddings of identity.
Monster (n.) is not just a body that breaks the form of the species; it breaks the law — marriage, baptism, inheritance — combining the impossible and the forbidden.
Monster (n.) can be manufactured: a man kept fifteen years in asylums as not accountable told his judges, 'you made me into a monster, so cut off my head.'
The Monster (n.) is the effect of a double breach: Of law and nature. It is not simply a particular kind of morphological or psychological irregularity, rather the body or psyche in question must also pose a threat to the categorical structure of law.