The urge to diagnose the present cultural moment—in art, music, or literature—is always fraught for a critic. Especially during a time when it appears the culture is at an impasse—when the cultural objects we produce appear unable to provide, in some form, that unexpected epiphany, or the fleeting, emancipatory feeling of freedom from Ixion’s wheel. There is a pressing need to address this situation which has chiefly been brought about by what I’m calling craftism.