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
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
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...
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.
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
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.
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.