transformed in the projection of a supersyncretic, chaotic, performative, carnivalesque, polylinguistic, polyrhythmical, and subversive meta- archipelago, a transmutation as teleological as it is epistemological, as anti- as it is postcolonial, as pre- as it is postmodern. The points of departure were no longer Darwin, Marx, and Freud but rather Adorno, Foucault, Barthes, Derrida. Lyotard, Deleuze and Guattari and, along with that earlier generation of foundational Caribbean thinkers, a growing circle of other and younger writers from the Caribbean and its diaspora. The "repeating island" depicts the Caribbean that projects itself globally -even intergalactically- as well as being anchored in atomized and infra-local attitudes and beliefs; the migratory and diasporic Caribbean that functions as a key element in the (re)constitution of metropolitan postmodernities; the Caribbean that spreads subversively as both racial and cultural creolization and mestizaje through polyrhythmic waves that insert themselves as much in everyday subjectivities as they do in the round-table discussions and armored tanks of political negotiations. This signifies a Caribbean redefined as "always already" inscribed in modern and postmodern European history; a Caribbean that "extends" not only from Bahia, Brazil to South Carolina, US, but also includes Japanese salsa bands, the reinvented carnivals of Europe and North America, the magical indigenism that rhizomatically unites the Americas, Africa, Asia, and the Pacific, the rainbow of sounds -reggaet6n, rap, dub, hip-hop, zouk, reggae, son, salsa, plena, beguine, bomba, calypso, kalinda ... -that continues to transform the ways of hearing, seeing, and feeling contemporary sensorial specificities and to redefine racial and ethnic attitudes inside the old colonial centers. Like most other primary postmodernist texts, The Repeating Island, first published as a book in 1989, is a product of the 1980s. The events that followed -the fall of the Berlin Wall, the killings in Tiananmen Square, the breaking apart of the Soviet Union, the first Gulf War, the (re)birth of communist- capitalist China, the hyper-globalization of Clintonesque economic policy and politics, the proliferation of cybernetic technology and digitalized communication, the European Union, the creativity of the post national diasporas -including the Caribbean-inside metropolitan centers-everything seemed to reinforce and confirm Benitez Rojo's reading of the Caribbean as an expansive and multiplying network of ahistorical, improvised, chaotic, polysemic, and nonapocalyptic sensibilities -ajouissance, although not without dangers, menace, and privations, both intellectual and visceral, political and cultural. Nothing precise has happened to negate or invalidate the extensive, flexible, and elastic Caribbeanness of Benitez Rojo's depiction. However, we no longer feel as comfortable inside it as we did ten or even five years ago. Even before "September 11th," before the second Gulf War, before the bombs in Madrid and London, the Bush '04 election, the military-nuclear developments in North Korea and Iran, the current sense of closure and exclusion inside the European Union, before the full emergence of this new age of apocalyptic