In "Bedtime Tales for Sleepless Nights," the Chapman Brothers reconceive the Victorian morality tale for less sanctimonious (and more misanthropic) times. Bearing on its cover the motto "Sticks and stones may break thy bones but words will surely maim you," this volume offers fans and younger readers alike a darker take on the children's bedtime book, with gruesomely illustrated rhymes that stray far from the saccharine-coated songs typical of the genre: "This hideous armature/ That hides and seeks/Will outlast the flesh/Its turn to reek/Hung out for death/On spiny barb/Your birthday suit/Now an ill-fitting garb." The etchings and stories have been made by the artists specifically for this project and are reproduced exclusively in this volume.

The very idea of humanity seems to be in crisis. Born in the ashes of devastation after the slaughter of millions, the liberal conception of humanity imagined a suffering victim in need of salvation. Today, this figure appears less and less capable of galvanizing the political imagination. But without it, how are we to respond to the inhumane violence that overwhelms our political and philosophical registers? How can we make sense of the violence that was carried out in the name of humanism? And how can we develop more ethical relations without becoming parasitic on the pain of others? Through a critical exploration of violence and the sacred, Ecce Humanitas recasts the fall of liberal humanism. Brad Evans offers a rich analysis of the changing nature of sacrificial violence, from its theological origins to the exhaustion of the victim in the contemporary world. He critiques the aestheticization that turns victims into sacred objects, sacrificial figures that demand response, perpetuating a cycle of violence that is seen as natural and inevitable. In novel readings of classic and contemporary works, Evans traces the sacralization of violence as well as art's potential to incite resistance. Countering the continued annihilation of life, Ecce Humanitas calls for liberating the political imagination from the scene of sacrifice. A new aesthetics provides a form of transgressive witnessing that challenges the ubiquity of violence and allows us to go beyond humanism to imagine a truly liberated humanity.

A much-needed rectification of 1984 offers an all-you-can-eat quinoa buffet of wrongthink With 1984.1, George Orwell's flawed masterpiece finally receives a much-needed rectification, as Jake Chapman takes us on a bad trip into an atrocious alt-Eurasia-a nightmare utopia of 24/7 self-expression, mandatory wellbeing, yogic breathing, and promiscuous empathy. Yippie wonks in open-toed sandals have ejected the evil capitalist overlords, compassion and charity reign supreme, buckwheat salad and artisan cashew cheese are in plentiful supply, and all strive to live their best life, all the time. Employed by the Ministry to rectify misfortunes issuing from a curious glitch in the system, Winston Smith finds that his creative urges are unexpectedly awoken, and he is driven to express his deepest place, voice, and hurt through the medium of poetry. But what connects Winston's furtive scribblings in My Big Book of Me to the unpleasantnesses emanating from the deep glitch? Is Julia really the perfect kooky carefree soulmate she seems to be? Can O'Brien be trusted? And when does the new season of Big Brother start? An all-you-can-eat quinoa buffet of wrongthink, Chapman's twisted vision is a bracing reminder that dystopia is just wishful thinking, and that the worst can always get worster.

Following the success of his first novel The Marriage of Reason and Squalor, artist Jake Chapman now focuses his malice on the calloused underbelly of literature itself. In Memoirs of MyWriter's Block, Chapman haunts the shady world of the professional ghostwriter, posing as fragile amateur scribbler Christabel Ludd whose broken attempts at completing her first novel are frustrated by an unshakable writer's block. In desperation she commissions a ragged collection of self-proclaimed professionals to transform the rudimentary tale into a compelling page-turner - with breathtaking results. The book follows the crushing and often bizarre process of having to get your novel written by someone else. The author, wracked with creative energy, resorts to poetry in a desperate attempt to relieve the tension built up over months of waiting for other - apparently more accomplished - writers to finish her story.

The very idea of humanity seems to be in crisis. Born in the ashes of devastation after the slaughter of millions, the liberal conception of humanity imagined a suffering victim in need of salvation. Today, this figure appears less and less capable of galvanizing the political imagination. But without it, how are we to respond to the inhumane violence that overwhelms our political and philosophical registers? How can we make sense of the violence that was carried out in the name of humanism? And how can we develop more ethical relations without becoming parasitic on the pain of others? Through a critical exploration of violence and the sacred, Ecce Humanitas recasts the fall of liberal humanism. Brad Evans offers a rich analysis of the changing nature of sacrificial violence, from its theological origins to the exhaustion of the victim in the contemporary world. He critiques the aestheticization that turns victims into sacred objects, sacrificial figures that demand response, perpetuating a cycle of violence that is seen as natural and inevitable. In novel readings of classic and contemporary works, Evans traces the sacralization of violence as well as art's potential to incite resistance. Countering the continued annihilation of life, Ecce Humanitas calls for liberating the political imagination from the scene of sacrifice. A new aesthetics provides a form of transgressive witnessing that challenges the ubiquity of violence and allows us to go beyond humanism to imagine a truly liberated humanity.