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
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Jean-Luc Nancy
Je me souviens (Jean-Luc Nancy)
Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat
Conversation
Beni Bischof
LISTMANIA: BIG BUGS
Blixa Bargeld
LISTMANIA: ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
…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…
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
We are looking for relics of visions of the future in past image spaces, for the traces and signatures of something once imaginable and timelessly possible.
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.