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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
Wofür steht der Tod der Avantgarden?
Alexander García Düttmann
Kalte Distanz
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Lars von Trier im Gespräch mit Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone
Axel Dielmann
Die Schneiderin
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Jochen Thermann
L’aide-cuisinier
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media
Oliver Hendricks
Human Oddities (Book)
Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat
Conversation
Der Titel ist Programm. Dieses »in der hauptsache von 1962 bis 1967« geschriebene Werk ist nicht nur ein megalomanisch zusammengeclustertes Durchverdauen der bewegenden Theorien der späten 60er Jahre (Linguistik, Kybernetik,...
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...
In einem Onlineforum, das sich mit dem Umzug ins 40 Lichtjahre von uns entfernte Planeten-system TRAPPIST-1 beschäftigt, antwortet mir kürzlich einer, als ich anmerke, dass es ohnehin egal sei, auf...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Nicht im Dienste irgendeines Wissens oder Spekulierens will dieses fortlaufende Register Eintragungen über Vorstellbares ansammeln: Namen, Objekte, Phänomene, Singularitäten.
Gedanklich-sinnliche Küchenzettel, Aufzählungen und Auslesen…
…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…
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.