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

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NEUN GRÜNDE GEGEN SCHACH

Pierre Lusson, Georges Perec, Jacques Roubaud, 03.07.2017

Es sei uns gestattet, hier einmal sämt­liche Gründe aufzuzählen, warum wir von Schach nichts halten.

1. Es ist ein...

SCHÖNE WORTE FÜR ABSCHEULICHE DINGE IN ZUFÄLLIGER REIHENFOLGE

Natascha Bub, 03.07.2017

Plörre
Smegma
Ohrwurm
Schlamassel
Kummerspeck
Weltschmerz
Gesöff
Fernweh
Lotterbett
Spelunke
Scharmützel
Donnerwetter
Schabracke
Mumpitz
Spatzenhirn
Lustmolch
Kaschemme
Spinatwachtel
Popanz

BIG BUGS

Beni Bischof, 24.03.2017

Forever!

Star

Shame!

Cheat

War

Wedding

Psych

Suicide

Dying!

Love

Other columns
  • 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

  • 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.

  • 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.

Magazine Special
From xenolinguistics to cephalo­pods

From xenolinguistics to cephalo­pods

OPEN
ACCESS
  • utopia
  • science fiction
  • communication
  • communication media
  • linguistics
  • semiotics and semiology

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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