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
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Michael Heitz
Another New God in Parts
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Facebook’s picture tumbler is currently reminding me of my first visit to China a year ago. I was impressed: so...
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...
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.
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.
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
…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.