“As a symbol, X is a strike in bowling and baseball, a defensive player in a football diagram, a kiss at the end of a letter or text message. On maps, X is infantry or mountaintop. X multiplies (2×2=4), relates dimension (2×4), and signifies the unknown algebraic quantity (2x-4x). X prescribes medicine (Rx), reacts chemically (rx), raises a musical note to a double sharp, and refers to pins and lamps in circuit diagrams. . . .

X is a blank placeholder, but it is THE blank placeholder. No other letter quite marks the spot like X. A cross. A double slash. A burning band. It’s the way it looks, the innumerable ways it can be replicated, but also the way it sounds in the mouth. Eks. Its sound is that of swords crossing, a fillet hitting the frypan, a curse. A hex.”