Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
A. L. Kennedy
Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur ?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Sandra Frimmel
Ich hasse die Avantgarde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Grabmal für Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Jochen Thermann
The Assistant Chef
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Ann Cotten
Dialoge
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venedig, Lagos und der Raum dazwischen
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Tyler Coburn
Quaddie
K.A.
Hermal
¡ Wenn sie im Flugzeug freie Plätze sehen, dann nicht darum prügeln !
¡ Auf gar keinen Fall darf...
Es sei uns gestattet, hier einmal sämtliche Gründe aufzuzählen, warum wir von Schach nichts halten.
1. Es ist ein...
1. Tell the Earth, “I love you. I can’t live without you."
2. At first you may feel embarrassed...
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.
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
J.G. Ballard’s self-declared ‘Immodest Proposal’ for a global war-alliance to exact the destruction of America demonstrates the provocatory zeal of his last fiction plans, as well as their enduring prescience. As Ballard emphasises several times in the World Versus America notebooks, he is utterly serious in his concerns and visions.
Although the Ballard estate declined permission for any images of pages from the World Versus America archival notebooks to accompany this essay, any member of the general public interested to do so can readily visit the British Library and view the notebooks in their entirety in the freely-accessible manuscripts collection there.
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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.