Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philologie
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Marlene Streeruwitz
Der Autor ist nicht die Autorin
Michael F. Zimmermann
Courbet als Assyrer
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tomb for Guy Debord
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the tame
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Joch
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Ines Kleesattel
Kunst, junge Mädchen und die ästhetische Freiheit untenrum
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Helmut J. Schneider
Wie fern darf der Nächste sein?
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Maël Renouard
Fragmente eines unendlichen Gedächtnisses
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Alexander García Düttmann
Kann es eine Gesellschaft ohne Feier geben oder Die kritische Frage des Theaters
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
K.A.
Hermal
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Michael Heitz
Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen
John Donne
Paradox I
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...
This book told me just what I had to know before I flew. Flying came more easily and I mastered its intricacies as quickly as my ideas come up during...
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
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…
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
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Deutsch
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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.