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
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
K.A.
Hermal
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...
Une Trinité de mémoire
Je me souviens de quelques lieux, de quelques parfums d’enfance. En Amérique du Sud, en Equateur, à...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
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.
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
…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…
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.