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
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Jochen Thermann
The Assistant Chef
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
K.A.
Hermal
Jean-Luc Nancy
Je me souviens (Jean-Luc Nancy)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Kommt ein Polizist zu einem Mann, der beschuldigt wird, seinen kleinen Sohn zu Tode geschüttelt zu haben. Wie ist denn das passiert?, will der Polizist wissen. So!, gibt der Mann...
Andreas L. Hofbauer, René Luckhardt: HER
Wien: Der Konterfei 2015
limitierte Ausgabe, 50 Seiten
In einem Onlineforum, das sich mit dem Umzug ins 40 Lichtjahre von uns entfernte Planeten-system...
Capt. Norman Macmillan:
How to Pilot an Aeroplane,
George Allen & Unwin LTD: London 1942,
first edition, 110 pages
This book told me just what I had to know before...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
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.
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.
…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.