Jared Woodward’s grim prognostications notwithstanding, I’m enthused by Continuum’s noble effort to become the Fontana theology/philosophy imprint of our intellectually impoverished times. How could one not love a publisher that lists Schillebeeckx alongside Deleuze, Larkin (Philip - his Jazz Writings, to be precise) alongside Lyotard, Buber alongside Adorno? This morning, my Continuum paperback reprints of Anti-Oedipus and A Thousand Plateaus arrived, and I was able to stop vomiting (24-hr stomach bug, quite aggressive) for just long enough to poke my head around the door of each text and take a quick look around. Shock of familiarity, rather than strangeness. I had forgotten about R. D. Laing, Herbert Marcuse, Wilhelm Reich. Here they are preserved in the stratum of cultural memory that forms around Anti-Oedipus’s purported irruption: its shameless and immodest provocation in retrospect seems timely, precisely and properly in sync with the age. It may be that it is now the more comparatively sober aspects of the work that have the most potential “impact” (as the publishers’ blurb - “Continuum Impacts: Changing Minds” would have it): for example, the discussion of Lacan, and of desiring-machines as the true form of the Real, still appears to have legs…