In Black Bodies That Matter, James Garrison makes it personal. In the specificity of this hugely intelligent and compelling cultural narration, Garrison weighs in against the inertia of a normative statement of fact—Black lives matter—by serving up a scathing indictment of a sleeping world that will not even say their names. The enormity of the crimes against what is our shared humanity is given weight and substance by the seemingly invincible absence of any meaningful response to the wanton injustices perpetrated against some of us. Institutionalized deafness and its unwavering commitment to saying and doing absolutely nothing escalates a weary, melancholic yet still righteous anger into a primal scream against what has always been a dead end. Garrison's story of his search for an activist and useful rage—a good, beautiful rage—is one that everyone needs to hear.