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
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
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philologie
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Marlene Streeruwitz
Der Autor ist nicht die Autorin
Felix Stalder
Feedback als Authentitzität
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Jean-Luc Nancy
Après les avant-gardes
Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the tame
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Hautnah am Körper des Unbekannten
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Fiktionen von Heimat
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Bruce Bégout
L’homme de Venise
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Peter Ott
The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction
K.A.
Hermal
Tyler Coburn
Quaddie
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio...
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...
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
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…
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.