Critical essays eritten in the span of a few years spent bending my mind in company, in solitude. The anarchist, or, alas, nihilist concern finds a voice, or lent me one, here not because they are best or right, but because they are the strangest. Plan of an eccentric thought in search, then, of its baroque expression. The anti-politics that others had given up discussing, and most had slept on, returns as what there is to write, perhaps to talk about. An ethics, too, because sometimes we are ethical. Analysis of rhetoric in search of finally free speech, which is why, in the end, I, at least, realized I was in search of a poetics adequate to decomposition. Or perhaps and precisely inadequate. For the moment and in the delay we call the present, then, essays. They say we try to inhabit, impossibly, this now-time, patiently. - Author