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Boutiques on the Bosporus . . . . . I remember . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . Maria Filomena Molder . The Alms of Time . . . . . Slavs and Tatars . Reverse Joy . . . . . . . . . . Helmut J. Schneider . Wie fern darf der Nächste sein? . . . . . . Xenolinguistics . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Political Transplants . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto . . . . . Honoré Daumier: Don Quixote lisant . . . . . A.K. Kaiza . An Annotated History of Wakanda . . . . . Thomas Huber . Generation of the Lynn Hershman Antibody . . . . . Je me souviens . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . Jochen Thermann . Der Hilfskoch . . . . . Angelika Meier . Wer ich wirklich bin . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger . Fiktionen von Heimat . . . . . Jochen Thermann . The Assistant Chef . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Maria Filomena Molder . Die Almosen der Zeit . . . . . Helmut J. Schneider . How Distant Can My Neighbor be? . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit. Hautnah am Körper des Unbekannten . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Politische Transplantate . . . . . A.K. Kaiza . Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas . . . . . Jean-Luc Nancy . Zah Zuh . . . . . Jochen Thermann . L’aide-cuisinier . . . . . Angelika Meier . Who I Really Am . . . . . Michele Pedrazzi . The Next Bit: un corps à corps avec l’inconnu . . . . . Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger . Homeland Fictions . . . . . Zoran Terzić . Transplants politiques . . . . . Slavs and Tatars . Reverse Joy

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DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 5
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 4
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 1

 

Artificial and Other Intelligences

Barbara Basting, 04.12.2019

Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...

Charlemagne Rides through Paris

Barbara Basting, 04.12.2019

Facebook’s algorithm has served up memories of my Turkish travels often enough, but now it’s taking countermeasures and suddenly presenting...

Boutiques on the Bosporus

Barbara Basting, 10.04.2018

I’m no longer very happy with Facebook. Recently the algorithm seems to be taking the platform into total despotism. And...

12 May 2011 – 12 May 2017: On Non-Digital Storage Media

Barbara Basting, 24.03.2017

The Facebook algorithm has noticed that I have something to do with art and museums, and presents me with a...

Other columns
  • 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.

  • I remember

    I remember

    Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…

  • 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.

  • Questionnaire

    Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?

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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