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)
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Blixa Bargeld
LISTMANIA: ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat
Conversation
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
La soif
Quand j’étais enfant, près de la maison ou j’habitais, il y avait une voie ferrée. Avant de m'endormir, j’entendais...
Ich erinnere mich an gewellte goldene Kornfelder.
Ich erinnere mich an mich; in der Peripherie des Bildes.
Ich erinnere mich an die...
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
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
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
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.