Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
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
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Malte Fabian Rauch
Phenomena in Exile
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Jochen Thermann
The Assistant Chef
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Hendrik Rohlf
Richard Prince (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
La soif
Quand j’étais enfant, près de la maison ou j’habitais, il y avait une voie ferrée. Avant de m'endormir, j’entendais...
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.
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
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.