Camp (n.) took from its prisoners even control over their own intimacy — just as Sade's masters at Silling regulated their victims' every bodily function.
Camp (n.) was never founded by any order, the head of the Gestapo said: one day the camps were simply there.
Camp (n.) is the space that opens once the state of exception starts to become the rule — the temporary suspension of law given a permanent place on the ground.
Camp (n.) is a hybrid of law and fact in which the two cannot be told apart — so asking whether what happened there was legal simply makes no sense.
Camp (n.) and not the prison is the true space of modern order: the attempt to give the exception, which has no place, a permanent and visible one.
A Camp (n.) exists wherever the normal order is suspended in fact — a stadium holding migrants, an airport waiting zone — and whether atrocities happen there depends only on the decency of the police.
Camp (n.) is the fundamental political paradigm of the West: the concentration camp, but also refugee or immigrant camps, wherever homo sacer is made today.
Camp (n.) is localization without order, the mirror of the state of exception, which is order without localization — the fourth element that broke the old trinity of state, nation and land.