I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Marlene Streeruwitz
Der Autor ist nicht die Autorin
Felix Stalder
Feedback als Authentitzität
Michael F. Zimmermann
Courbet als Assyrer
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Axel Dielmann
Die Schneiderin
Michael Heitz
Wong Pings "Who’s the Daddy"
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the tame
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Thomas Huber
Generation of the Lynn Hershman Antibody
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Diane Williams
Rums Bums auf der Treppe
Alexander García Düttmann
Kann es eine Gesellschaft ohne Feier geben oder Die kritische Frage des Theaters
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
Une Trinité de mémoire
Je me souviens de quelques lieux, de quelques parfums d’enfance. En Amérique du Sud, en Equateur, à...
La soif
Quand j’étais enfant, près de la maison ou j’habitais, il y avait une voie ferrée. Avant de m'endormir, j’entendais...
…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…
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
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?
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.