Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
Marlene Streeruwitz
L'auteur n'est pas l'auteure
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Après les avant-gardes
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
Wofür steht der Tod der Avantgarden?
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the tame
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Fiktionen von Heimat
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Hautnah am Körper des Unbekannten
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Ann Cotten
Dialoge
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venedig, Lagos und der Raum dazwischen
Alexander García Düttmann
Kann es eine Gesellschaft ohne Feier geben oder Die kritische Frage des Theaters
Luc Meresma
Capt. Norman MacMillan (Book)
Jean-Luc Nancy
Je me souviens (Jean-Luc Nancy)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Facebooks Bilder-Waschtrommel erinnert mich derzeit an meine erste China-Reise vor einem Jahr. Ich war beeindruckt: So viele Hochhäuser, so viele...
Facebooks Algorithmus hat mir oft genug Erinnerungen an meine Türkei-Reisen serviert, gibt nun aber Gegensteuer und präsentiert plötzlich ganz andere...
Diese Muster für Fingernagelschmuck fielen mir vor vier Jahren im Fenster eines »Nailstudios« in Salisbury, Südwestengland, auf. Nailstudios begannen mich...
Der Facebook-Algorithmus hat mitbekommen, dass ich was mit Kunst und Museen habe und setzt mir aus dem Pool meiner früheren...
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
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
A for Anomie
The idea that terrorism and other forms of political violence are directly related to strains caused by strongly held grievances has been one of the most common explanations to date and can be traced to a diverse set of theoretical concepts including relative deprivation, social disorganization, breakdown, tension, and anomie. Merton (1938) identifies anomie as a cultural condition of frustration, in which values regarding goals and how to achieve them conflict with limitations on the means of achievement.
Gary LaFree and Laura Dugan, “Research on Terrorism and Countering Terrorism”, Crime and Justice, Vol. 38, No. 1, 2009.
B for Block or Blocked
If terrorism in each of its expressions can be considered an indicator of the existence of a political block (of an impossibility of reacting if one wishes to react differently), this influences its real ability to modify the situation. Terrorism has been historically more successful when it was not...
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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.