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
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 2
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
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...
…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…
Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
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.
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.