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
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
John Donne
Paradox I
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
¡ Wenn sie im Flugzeug freie Plätze sehen, dann nicht darum prügeln !
¡ Auf gar keinen Fall darf...
1. Tell the Earth, “I love you. I can’t live without you."
2. At first you may feel embarrassed...
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
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.
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.