Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
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
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
Dorothee Scheiffarth
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES
Beni Bischof
LISTMANIA: BIG BUGS
So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio wandering about in some strange Land of Toys. I...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
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.
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.