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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
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?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
John Donne
Paradox I
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
Peter Ott
The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction
¡ Wenn sie im Flugzeug freie Plätze sehen, dann nicht darum prügeln !
¡ Auf gar keinen Fall darf...
Es sei uns gestattet, hier einmal sämtliche Gründe aufzuzählen, warum wir von Schach nichts halten.
1. Es ist ein...
1. Tell the Earth, “I love you. I can’t live without you."
2. At first you may feel embarrassed...
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
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.
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
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.