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The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media . . . . . I remember . . . . . Custom Creates Law . . . . . Facebook’s Just a Nail Studio . . . . . BIG BUGS . . . . . Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat . Conversation . . . . . Peter Ott . Die monotheistische Zelle oder Berichte aus der Fiktion . . . . . Self-portrait . . . . . Ich erinnere mich… . . . . . THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES . . . . . 12 Feb 2011 — 12 Feb 2017 . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . LISTMANIA . . . . . Michael Heitz . Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen . . . . . Mário Gomes . Brandsatz & Ästhetik . . . . . 12 May 2011 – 12 May 2017: On Non-Digital Storage Media . . . . . Tyler Coburn . Ergonomic Futures . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . Unabhängigkeit . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . Human Oddities . . . . . This is not your blood. . . . . . Problem IX: Warum haben Hurenkinder das allermeiste Glück? . . . . . How to Pilot an Aeroplane . . . . . Paradox I: That all things kill themselves . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . I remember . . . . . Ute Holl . Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . The Prison . . . . . Quaddie . . . . . Hermal . . . . . GUANAJUATONOVIEMBRE . . . . . Marcus Quent . Ohne Halt . . . . . HER . . . . . L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée . . . . . ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN . . . . . American English . . . . . Boutiques on the Bosporus . . . . . I remember… . . . . . China frisst Menschen . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . Exodus. Gods and Kings . . . . . Je me souviens… . . . . . TWELVE DRUMMERS DRUMMING . . . . . Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I . . . . . Michael Heitz . Another New God in Parts . . . . . Marcus Quent . No Respite . . . . . Julien Maret . IN EXTREMIS . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . Peter Ott . The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction

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DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 8/9
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 6/7
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 4
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 3

After This Comes That Before That Comes This

Wolfgang Plöger

After This Comes That Before That Comes This

 

Wie ein stockfischiger Schnapsrausch

Tina Schulz, 03.07.2017

Kommt ein Polizist zu einem Mann, der beschuldigt wird, seinen kleinen Sohn zu Tode geschüttelt zu haben. Wie ist denn das passiert?, will der Polizist wissen. So!, gibt der Mann...

Kybernetik für alle

Michael Schultze, 03.07.2017

Der Titel ist Programm. Dieses »in der hauptsache von 1962 bis 1967« geschriebene Werk ist nicht nur ein megalomanisch zusammengeclustertes Durchverdauen der bewegenden Theorien der späten 60er Jahre (Linguistik, Kybernetik,...

Materiality and corporeality

Kári Páll Óskarsson, 03.07.2017

The Three Marias is a highly interesting work of feminist literature, although it’s now largely forgotten outside of its native Portugal. In the early 70s, while the country was still...

Other columns
  • FICTIONARY

    FICTIONARY

    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.

  • Future Pluperfect

    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.

  • Questionnaire

    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

    L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée

    L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée

Magazine Special

Ute Holl

Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile

OPEN
ACCESS
  • communism
  • monotheism
  • film
  • Karl Marx
  • exile

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

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