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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Alexander García Düttmann
Kalte Distanz
A.K. Kaiza
Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Fiktionen von Heimat
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Marcus Quent
Verrinnen der Zeit und Glaube an die Welt
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Luc Meresma
Capt. Norman MacMillan (Book)
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
Peter Ott
The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
Trmasan Bruialesi
Lieber Paul 1
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...
1. Ringo Starr
2. Mike D.
3. Roland TR 808
4. Jaki Liebezeit
5. Paul Lovens
6. Anthony Williams
…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…
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Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
Now the dead will no longer be buried, now this spectral city will become the site for execrations and lamentations, now time itself will disintegrate and void itself, now human bodies will expectorate fury and envision their own transformation or negation, now infinite and untold catastrophes are imminently on their way —ready to cross the bridge over the river Aire and engulf us all — in this winter of discontent, just beginning at this dead-of-night instant before midnight, North-Sea ice-particles already crackling in the air and the last summer long-over, the final moment of my seventeenth birthday, so we have to go, the devil is at our heels… And now we’re running at full-tilt through the centre of the city, across the square beneath the Purbeck-marble edifice of the Queen’s Hotel, down towards the dark arches under the railway tracks, the illuminated sky shaking, the air fissured with beating cacophony,...
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.