Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Sandra Frimmel
Ich hasse die Avantgarde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
Was wir nicht sehen
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Manuel Franquelo
Manuel Franquelo im Gespräch
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venedig, Lagos und der Raum dazwischen
Diane Williams
Rums Bums auf der Treppe
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
Damian Christinger
Huelsenbeck (Book)
Es sei uns gestattet, hier einmal sämtliche Gründe aufzuzählen, warum wir von Schach nichts halten.
1. Es ist ein...
Cumulus tuba ;
Cirrus cumulonimbogenitus ;
Wallcloud ;
Bannerwolke ;
Föhnfische ;
mother-of-pearl cloud ;
Altocumulus translucidus ;
Stratocumulus...
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
…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…
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
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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.