Rudi 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
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 8
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 8
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Dorothee Scheiffarth
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
It may be due to the simple design of this dust jacket, which gives no indication of genre, and to...
The Nonexistent Giotto
A picture may announce the future not in the sense that it refers to any future events...
Although contemporaries attested Romantic qualities to François Gérard’s Belisar, it didn’t appeal to the arch-Romantic Delacroix: “The fortune of a...
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
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.
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.