Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Zoran Terzić
Die Verallgemeinerung des Menschen
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
A. L. Kennedy
Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur ?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Ines Kleesattel
Kunst, junge Mädchen und die ästhetische Freiheit untenrum
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Joch
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Ann Cotten
Dialoge
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 2
Luc Meresma
Capt. Norman MacMillan (Book)
John Donne
Problem IX
Facebooks Bilder-Waschtrommel erinnert mich derzeit an meine erste China-Reise vor einem Jahr. Ich war beeindruckt: So viele Hochhäuser, so viele...
Ich sitze in der Lobby eines Hotels in China. Zum Hotel inmitten einer toskanisch anmutenden Landschaft, in das ich mit...
Diese Muster für Fingernagelschmuck fielen mir vor vier Jahren im Fenster eines »Nailstudios« in Salisbury, Südwestengland, auf. Nailstudios begannen mich...
Der Facebook-Algorithmus hat mitbekommen, dass ich was mit Kunst und Museen habe und setzt mir aus dem Pool meiner früheren...
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
Nicht im Dienste irgendeines Wissens oder Spekulierens will dieses fortlaufende Register Eintragungen über Vorstellbares ansammeln: Namen, Objekte, Phänomene, Singularitäten.
…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…
Gedanklich-sinnliche Küchenzettel, Aufzählungen und Auslesen…
I said “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.”
“No,” he said, “but I see you have string!”
“If this comes into motion—” I said, “you should use a rope.”
“Any poison ivy on that? ” he asked me, and I told him my rope had been in the barn peacefully for years.
He took a length of it to the bedside table. He had no concept for what wood could endure.
“Table must have broken when I lashed it onto the truck,” he said.
And, when he was moving the sewing machine, he let the cast iron wheels—bang, bang on the stair.
I had settled down to pack up the flamingo cookie jar, the cutlery, and the cookware, but stopped briefly, for how many times do you catch sudden sight of something heartfelt?
I saw our milk cows in their slow...
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Aktuell ausgewählte Inhalte
Deutsch, Englisch, Französisch
»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.