I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Marlene Streeruwitz
L'auteur n'est pas l'auteure
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
Was wir nicht sehen
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Alexander García Düttmann
Kalte Distanz
Axel Dielmann
Die Schneiderin
Thomas Huber
Generation of the Lynn Hershman Antibody
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Jochen Thermann
L’aide-cuisinier
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Diane Williams
Rums Bums auf der Treppe
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
Dorothee Scheiffarth
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES
Une Trinité de mémoire
Je me souviens de quelques lieux, de quelques parfums d’enfance. En Amérique du Sud, en Equateur, à...
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...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
…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…
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
Meine Sprache
Deutsch
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.