I feel as if I’m always in search of metaphors as machines for working through what I’m trying to think. A metaphor is no mere ornamental device, no mere parergon; though Derrida taught us that the supplement of parerga are far more significant than they might first appear. Nor are metaphors useful descriptive devices that allow us to pedagogically explain concepts to others. No, metaphors are sparks of thought and lines of flight that move faster than thought. We become, I think, enmeshed in our metaphors and other than we were as a result of the larval transformations they force us to undergo. Metaphors initiate vectors of becoming, pleating thought in unexpected ways. And as a result, there is always a danger in metaphor as you don’t know where they will ultimately take you. One day you wake up in New Orleans and say to yourself, “everything is a machine!”…