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, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 2
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
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...
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
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.
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.