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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philologie
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Marlene Streeruwitz
Der Autor ist nicht die Autorin
A. L. Kennedy
Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur ?
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
A. L. Kennedy
Was ist ein Autor?
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Après les avant-gardes
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Michael Heitz
Wong Pings "Who’s the Daddy"
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Jochen Thermann
Der Hilfskoch
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Fiktionen von Heimat
Jochen Thermann
The Assistant Chef
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Marcus Quent
Verrinnen der Zeit und Glaube an die Welt
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
Kommt ein Polizist zu einem Mann, der beschuldigt wird, seinen kleinen Sohn zu Tode geschüttelt zu haben. Wie ist denn das passiert?, will der Polizist wissen. So!, gibt der Mann...
The Three Marias is a highly interesting work of feminist literature, although it’s now largely forgotten outside of its native Portugal. In the early 70s, while the country was still...
Bearded Ladies, Dwarfs and Giants, Hermaphrodites, Siamese Twins (see Heng and Chang on the book cover), the Mule-headed Lady, The Serpent-Woman, The Amazing Half-Boy (famous for his appearance in...
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
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…
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
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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»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.