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
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Michael F. Zimmermann
Courbet als Assyrer
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Ines Kleesattel
Kunst, junge Mädchen und die ästhetische Freiheit untenrum
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Axel Dielmann
Die Schneiderin
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
A.K. Kaiza
Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
John Donne
Paradox I
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat
Conversation
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
Une Trinité de mémoire
Je me souviens de quelques lieux, de quelques parfums d’enfance. En Amérique du Sud, en Equateur, à...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
…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…
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
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...
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.