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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Malte Fabian Rauch
Phenomena in Exile
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Michael Heitz
Another New God in Parts
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...
Une Trinité de mémoire
Je me souviens de quelques lieux, de quelques parfums d’enfance. En Amérique du Sud, en Equateur, à...
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
…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.