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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
K.A.
Hermal
Damian Christinger
Huelsenbeck (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...
Facebook’s algorithm has served up memories of my Turkish travels often enough, but now it’s taking countermeasures and suddenly presenting...
I’m no longer very happy with Facebook. Recently the algorithm seems to be taking the platform into total despotism. And...
The Facebook algorithm has noticed that I have something to do with art and museums, and presents me with a...
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.
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.
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
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.