Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Malte Fabian Rauch
Phenomena in Exile
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
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...
Facebook recently wanted to make merry with me. To this aim it posted an entry on my notice board, which...
The Facebook algorithm has noticed that I have something to do with art and museums, and presents me with a...
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
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.
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.
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.