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Helmut J. Schneider . Wie fern darf der Nächste sein? . . . . . Honoré Daumier: Don Quixote lisant . . . . . Je me souviens . . . . . . Xenolinguistics . . . . . Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger . Fiktionen von Heimat . . . . . Jochen Thermann . Der Hilfskoch . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . Angelika Meier . Wer ich wirklich bin . . . . . Thomas Huber . Generation of the Lynn Hershman Antibody . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . Boutiques on the Bosporus . . . . . Maria Filomena Molder . The Alms of Time . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Slavs and Tatars . Reverse Joy . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . I remember . . . . . . . . . . A.K. Kaiza . An Annotated History of Wakanda . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Political Transplants . . . . . Maria Filomena Molder . Die Almosen der Zeit . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Politische Transplantate . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit: un corps à corps avec l’inconnu . . . . . Jochen Thermann . The Assistant Chef . . . . . Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger . Homeland Fictions . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Transplants politiques . . . . . Helmut J. Schneider . How Distant Can My Neighbor be? . . . . . Jochen Thermann . L’aide-cuisinier . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit. Hautnah am Körper des Unbekannten . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Slavs and Tatars . Reverse Joy . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Angelika Meier . Who I Really Am . . . . . A.K. Kaiza . Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas

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DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 4
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 1

 

Charlemagne Rides through Paris

Barbara Basting, 04.12.2019

Facebook’s algorithm has served up memories of my Turkish travels often enough, but now it’s taking countermeasures and suddenly presenting...

Behind the Great Firewall

Barbara Basting, 26.10.2018

I sit in the lobby of a hotel in China where I am accommodated along with other guests of an...

Facebook’s Just a Nail Studio

Barbara Basting, 10.04.2018

I noticed this pattern for fingernail decoration four years ago in the window of a “nail studio” in Salisbury, south-west...

12 Feb 2011 — 12 Feb 2017

Barbara Basting, 24.03.2017

Facebook recently wanted to make merry with me. To this aim it posted an entry on my notice board, which...

Other columns
  • John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    …rather alarms, to truth to arm her than enemies, and they have only this advantage to scape from being called ill things, that they are nothings…

  • Questionnaire

    Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?

  • FICTIONARY

    FICTIONARY

    Not on any Knowlede’s service this register in progress seeks accumulating entries of imagenables: names, objects, imaginations… singularities, that neither have to be thought nor upon which must be speculated.

  • L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée

    L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée

    L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée

Magazine Special
From xenolinguistics to cephalo­pods

From xenolinguistics to cephalo­pods

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English

»Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, MAESTRO DI COLOR CHE SANNO. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see.


Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. No, agallop: DELINE THE MARE.


Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. BASTA! I will see if I can see.


See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end.«


James Joyce

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