Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael F. Zimmermann
Courbet als Assyrer
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Marlene Streeruwitz
L'auteur n'est pas l'auteure
Sandra Frimmel
Ich hasse die Avantgarde
Jean-Luc Nancy
Après les avant-gardes
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Michael Heitz
Wong Pings "Who’s the Daddy"
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Hautnah am Körper des Unbekannten
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Ann Cotten
Dialoge
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Dorothee Scheiffarth
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES
Ute Holl
Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile
K.A.
Hermal
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...
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...
…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…
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
DIAPHANES fragt nach Relikten von Zukunftsvisionen in den Bildräumen der Vergangenheit, nach Spuren und Signaturen eines einst Vorstellbaren und zeitlos Möglichen.
Nicht im Dienste irgendeines Wissens oder Spekulierens will dieses fortlaufende Register Eintragungen über Vorstellbares ansammeln: Namen, Objekte, Phänomene, Singularitäten.
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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.