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
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Aya Momose
Questionnaire Aya Momose
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Andreas Reihse
LISTMANIA: GUANAJUATONOVIEMBRE
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Kommt ein Polizist zu einem Mann, der beschuldigt wird, seinen kleinen Sohn zu Tode geschüttelt zu haben. Wie ist denn das passiert?, will der Polizist wissen. So!, gibt der Mann...
Andreas L. Hofbauer, René Luckhardt: HER
Wien: Der Konterfei 2015
limitierte Ausgabe, 50 Seiten
In einem Onlineforum, das sich mit dem Umzug ins 40 Lichtjahre von uns entfernte Planeten-system...
Capt. Norman Macmillan:
How to Pilot an Aeroplane,
George Allen & Unwin LTD: London 1942,
first edition, 110 pages
This book told me just what I had to know before...
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.
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.
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
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.