Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
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
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
K.A.
Hermal
Blixa Bargeld
LISTMANIA: ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
Facebook’s algorithm has served up memories of my Turkish travels often enough, but now it’s taking countermeasures and suddenly presenting...
I sit in the lobby of a hotel in China where I am accommodated along with other guests of an...
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...
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.
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
…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…
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.