I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Jochen Thermann
The Assistant Chef
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
Andreas Reihse
LISTMANIA: GUANAJUATONOVIEMBRE
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...
Facebook’s algorithm has served up memories of my Turkish travels often enough, but now it’s taking countermeasures and suddenly presenting...
I sit in the lobby of a hotel in China where I am accommodated along with other guests of an...
The Facebook algorithm has noticed that I have something to do with art and museums, and presents me with a...
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
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
My language
English
Selected content
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
Dire works on the bogus regime—not just of art—but endowed with wit, beauty and irresistible fetish character.