Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
Michael Heitz
Another New God in Parts
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Der Titel ist Programm. Dieses »in der hauptsache von 1962 bis 1967« geschriebene Werk ist nicht nur ein megalomanisch zusammengeclustertes Durchverdauen der bewegenden Theorien der späten 60er Jahre (Linguistik, Kybernetik,...
The Three Marias is a highly interesting work of feminist literature, although it’s now largely forgotten outside of its native Portugal. In the early 70s, while the country was still...
In Jugoslawien wurde viel publiziert und wenig weggeworfen. So hatte man die Möglichkeit, in staatlichen Galerien und Museen Ausstellungskataloge und Kunstzeitschriften für Pfennige zu schießen. Einen besonderen Platz in meinem...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
Following Georges Perec’s Memory 480: "I remember… (to be continued…)"…
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.
Successful asylum claims generally require generating a racialist, colonialist discourse that impugns the nation-state from which the asylum seeker comes. While to impugn the asylum seeker’s place of origin may well be a necessity for the purpose of asylum, it is problematic if it serves to confirm the moral and political superiority of the West through the myth of the ideal victim. In order to avoid the cookie-cutter victimhood framework that refers to idealizations around “Us” and “Them,” Europe must adopt a reflexive approach to queer asylum that allows for recognizing its own stereotypes in regard to homosexuality, race, and gender, so as not to reproduce colonial and imperialistic narratives of vulnerability, sex, and desire through Eurocentric asylum regimes.
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.