I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Zoran Terzić
Die Verallgemeinerung des Menschen
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Joch
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Marcus Quent
Verrinnen der Zeit und Glaube an die Welt
Maël Renouard
Fragmente eines unendlichen Gedächtnisses
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Ann Cotten
Dialoge
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
John Donne
Paradox I
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio...
Ich erinnere mich an gewellte goldene Kornfelder.
Ich erinnere mich an mich; in der Peripherie des Bildes.
Ich erinnere mich an die...
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
Gedanklich-sinnliche Küchenzettel, Aufzählungen und Auslesen…
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
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...
Meine Sprache
Deutsch
Aktuell ausgewählte Inhalte
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.