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American English . . . . . The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media . . . . . Marcus Quent . Ohne Halt . . . . . Tyler Coburn . Ergonomic Futures . . . . . TWELVE DRUMMERS DRUMMING . . . . . 12 May 2011 – 12 May 2017: On Non-Digital Storage Media . . . . . Mário Gomes . Brandsatz & Ästhetik . . . . . Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat . Conversation . . . . . HER . . . . . How to Pilot an Aeroplane . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . The Prison . . . . . Hermal . . . . . I remember . . . . . This is not your blood. . . . . . Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I . . . . . Human Oddities . . . . . LISTMANIA . . . . . L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée . . . . . 12 Feb 2011 — 12 Feb 2017 . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . Unabhängigkeit . . . . . Problem IX: Warum haben Hurenkinder das allermeiste Glück? . . . . . Michael Heitz . Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen . . . . . Ich erinnere mich… . . . . . Boutiques on the Bosporus . . . . . Quaddie . . . . . Paradox I: That all things kill themselves . . . . . Ute Holl . Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile . . . . . Je me souviens… . . . . . Facebook’s Just a Nail Studio . . . . . I remember… . . . . . Custom Creates Law . . . . . Peter Ott . Die monotheistische Zelle oder Berichte aus der Fiktion . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . GUANAJUATONOVIEMBRE . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . Exodus. Gods and Kings . . . . . ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN . . . . . BIG BUGS . . . . . THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES . . . . . China frisst Menschen . . . . . I remember . . . . . Self-portrait . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . Julien Maret . IN EXTREMIS . . . . . Michael Heitz . Another New God in Parts . . . . . Marcus Quent . No Respite . . . . . Peter Ott . The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction

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We like !
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 3

Corporate Love

Gilles Rotzetter

Corporate Love

 

I remember

Fritz Senn, 27.10.2018

So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...

I remember

Urs Engeler, 03.07.2017

Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...

I remember

Jerome Charyn, 03.07.2017

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...

Other columns
  • Future Pluperfect

    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.

  • Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I

    Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I

    The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”

  • FICTIONARY

    FICTIONARY

    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.

  • John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    …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…

Magazine Special

Ute Holl

Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile

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  • Karl Marx
  • communism
  • exile
  • film
  • monotheism

My language
English

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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

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