I

No defence against the indefensible
The space between words and things is once again total
No defence against the indefensible
The space between words and things is once again fatal
All naming is already murder: serviced muck on the killing floor
Soft violence as pragmatic necessity: bullbaiting with the starved dogs of rhetoric
An arena sport like no other
Bring on the organ grinders, carnival barkers, snake oil paddlers, pork-barreling mouthpieces
Parceling out concerted blows of categorical reification
Deep bites with self-confirming payloads
Live seed for excessive entitlement and a snare for every congenital impulse
Absent a shot, we are condemned to be at war with words