The rule is love.
It is difficult to imagine this book as a complete and bounded work. While
writing and reading and editing and sharing ideas—processes and con-
versations that have unfolded since about 2006 yet began well before this
time—the text and its ideas have been consistently ajar. It has also wit-
nessed, across the planet and with uneven responses, the Arab Spring and
ongoing struggles in Syria, increasing man- made disasters and resource ex-
ploitation, wide use of unmanned drones, credit crises, the Occupy move-
ments and student protests, the preventable deaths of Troy Davis, Michael
Jackson, Mark Duggan, Whitney Houston, Trayvon Martin, and more, the
election of Barack Obama, Idle No More, prisoner strikes in Atlanta, Cali-
fornia. . . . Indeed, in Toronto, Ontario, where I write from and dwell, and
in Kingston, Ontario, the prison- university town where I teach, and across
Canada, prisons are, quietly and not, proliferating fictionally benevolent ge-
ographies. The 2012 Marikana (Lonmin) strike—the protest of a variety of
appalling work conditions—resulted in miners being threatened and killed,
reminiscent of, but not twinning, the Sharpeville massacre in 1960. I hope
these kinds of events, and the many more unlisted—and it is worth under-
scoring the asymmetrical time- place reverberations of the events noted and
unspoken and yet- to- come—in some small way connect to this work, thus
drawing attention to the ways in which the ideas put forth are incomplete
and unbounded and grounded and, to use Sylvia Wynter’s phraseology,
correlational. Our work is unfinished.
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