I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Damian Christinger
Huelsenbeck (Book)
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
La soif
Quand j’étais enfant, près de la maison ou j’habitais, il y avait une voie ferrée. Avant de m'endormir, j’entendais...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
…rather alarms, to truth to arm her than enemies, and they have only this advantage to scape from being called ill things, that they are nothings…
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.