Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
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
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Felix Stalder
Feedback als Authentitzität
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf
Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
A.K. Kaiza
Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas
Jochen Thermann
Der Hilfskoch
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Jochen Thermann
L’aide-cuisinier
Manuel Franquelo
Manuel Franquelo im Gespräch
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Peter Ott
The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 2
Facebooks Algorithmus hat mir oft genug Erinnerungen an meine Türkei-Reisen serviert, gibt nun aber Gegensteuer und präsentiert plötzlich ganz andere...
Ich sitze in der Lobby eines Hotels in China. Zum Hotel inmitten einer toskanisch anmutenden Landschaft, in das ich mit...
Ich bin nicht mehr sehr zufrieden mit Facebook. Denn in jüngerer Zeit scheint der Algorithmus dort ein totales Willkürregime zu...
Kürzlich wollte Facebook mit mir feiern. Zu dem Zweck hat das Unternehmen mir einen Eintrag auf meine Pinwand gepostet, die...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
DIAPHANES fragt nach Relikten von Zukunftsvisionen in den Bildräumen der Vergangenheit, nach Spuren und Signaturen eines einst Vorstellbaren und zeitlos Möglichen.
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
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.