Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Aya Momose
Questionnaire Aya Momose
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...
I sit in the lobby of a hotel in China where I am accommodated along with other guests of an...
I noticed this pattern for fingernail decoration four years ago in the window of a “nail studio” in Salisbury, south-west...
I’m no longer very happy with Facebook. Recently the algorithm seems to be taking the platform into total despotism. And...
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
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.