AR: When it comes to public trials and tragedies, we have a really difficult time without that so-called monster. Do you think that relates to the way the American criminal justice system works more broadly?

CK: The American criminal justice system, from what I’ve observed, is totally arbitrary. Once you’re ankle-deep in the quicksand, it will swallow you up.

AR: It seems you always situate yourself with a foot out the door, as an academic who is wary of the professionalization of art production, an art marker who’s also a critic. Is that a fair assessment? If so, in what way do you find it useful to exist within and also outside of certain circles or structures?

CK: My work has evolved mostly by chance. I never set out to be in the art world, it just turned out to be where my writing was read. A lot of writers and thinkers end up like that, on the fence between inside and outside certain set-ups. You have to be inside a system enough to understand how it works, but if you’re too inside, you’re invested in its status quo. Jean Baudrillard is a great example of this. He was never taken seriously as a philosopher in France, but this gave him the freedom to extend the implications of his ideas to a pataphysical point.

AR: You’ve taken on a lot of different roles, working as an editor, writing fiction, doing art criticism, and making films. Is there one you enjoy most? One that comes most naturally to you?

CK: Oh, I don’t make films any more. I gave that up forever when I started writing. But the combination of writing fiction, criticism, and editing isn’t uncommon. These are things that many writers do. A novel takes me a long time, and often I’ll write critical pieces along the way.