The numbers that survive in my phone don't belong to those boys and men who were best at fucking me, but the ones who were, and are, best at telling me how—and why, and where, and also in which places—they would fuck me.

Russia Today, the politsiya, and Western punks alike all want to know: Who is Pussy Riot, when is their next gig, and where can I…

What is perhaps most significant about Gibson's fiction, then, is what he chooses not to write about. None of his nine novels has been set in a world that requires the annihilation of our own.

I spent an earlier chapter of my life not as someone who played basketball, but as someone whose entire identity was structured and defined by being a basketball player. Basketball was my special pass-card that allowed me into the zone of black America, a realm that didn’t belong to me.

How social media help naturalize network-driven capitalism and the sort of flexible, endlessly productive subject it requires

What is more confining than vast empty spaces?

The precarious state of poetry these days mirrors the conditions of all who labor in the "social factory"

In Lars Iyer’s comic non-literature, inept philosophers attempt non-thinking

Albert Cossery’s 1955 novel shows how beggars can be choosers — and revolutionaries

Beyond Cossery's stylish ironies, we glimpse a country seething in poverty and malfeasance and, like the concrete buildings his narratives are usually set in, perpetually on the verge of collapse. In fact, it is seems as if only the totality of this corruption is keeping the country together, an adhesive of turpitude permeating every social