Hope alone is no answer. Indeed, given hope’s ambiguous relation to despair, fear, and suffering, it seems crazy to desire hope. At risk with the desire for hope is not only our capacity to imagine a world beyond human vulnerability, but also our capacity to bring the future forth.

The time we inhabit—the Anthropocene—poses an unprecedented challenge: the collapse of our metaphysical grounds and the grounds of the earth itself.1 How do we actually think this present, in all its nihilism, catastrophe, mania, and potential? "The Neoliberal Subject", a new book by political theorists David Chandler and Julian Reid, offers two somewhat complementary possibilities for doing so.

In a series of paintings called “Dronescapes,” Kathryn Brimblecombe-Fox depicts the iconic figure of the Predator drone against a backdrop of aerial landscapes. In blues and reds, the sky forms a space—a kind of abstract landscape—that the drone traverses, shapes, and occupies.

The recently published volume entitled Agamben and Radical Politics, masterfully edited by Daniel McLoughlin, confronts and engages with such polemics against Agamben’s work, bringing his thought into conversation with various Marxist and post-Marxist strands of political theory and examining these connections with respect to a number of crucial themes central to this revolutionary tradition: history, production, the community, the status of property and the relation between theory and praxis.

Recent scholarship in anarchist geographies has shown the limitations of the state as the privileged analytical framework for political geographies and geopolitics, and the potential openings of giving up statist categories in a geographical understanding of the world (Ince and Barrera de la Torre, 2016). I would argue that Rojava should be considered as a major case for this research agenda and that this book is a stimulating starting point to reflect over non-statist solutions for this region and beyond.