Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
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
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Tyler Coburn
Quaddie
Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...
I noticed this pattern for fingernail decoration four years ago in the window of a “nail studio” in Salisbury, south-west...
I’m no longer very happy with Facebook. Recently the algorithm seems to be taking the platform into total despotism. And...
Facebook recently wanted to make merry with me. To this aim it posted an entry on my notice board, which...
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
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.
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
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.