Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Marlene Streeruwitz
L'auteur n'est pas l'auteure
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
A. L. Kennedy
Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur ?
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Grabmal für Guy Debord
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Jochen Thermann
L’aide-cuisinier
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Bruce Bégout
L’homme de Venise
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Michael Heitz
Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen
The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio...
Ich erinnere mich an gewellte goldene Kornfelder.
Ich erinnere mich an mich; in der Peripherie des Bildes.
Ich erinnere mich an die...
…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…
Nicht im Dienste irgendeines Wissens oder Spekulierens will dieses fortlaufende Register Eintragungen über Vorstellbares ansammeln: Namen, Objekte, Phänomene, Singularitäten.
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
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.