Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Marlene Streeruwitz
Der Autor ist nicht die Autorin
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
Wofür steht der Tod der Avantgarden?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme
Alexander García Düttmann
Kalte Distanz
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
Was wir nicht sehen
Angelika Meier
Wer ich wirklich bin
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Stephen Barber
Krieg aus Fragmenten: World Versus America
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Diane Williams
Rums Bums auf der Treppe
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael Heitz
Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen
Ute Holl
Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile
Es sei uns gestattet, hier einmal sämtliche Gründe aufzuzählen, warum wir von Schach nichts halten.
1. Es ist ein...
1. Tell the Earth, “I love you. I can’t live without you."
2. At first you may feel embarrassed...
Cumulus tuba ;
Cirrus cumulonimbogenitus ;
Wallcloud ;
Bannerwolke ;
Föhnfische ;
mother-of-pearl cloud ;
Altocumulus translucidus ;
Stratocumulus...
Nicht im Dienste irgendeines Wissens oder Spekulierens will dieses fortlaufende Register Eintragungen über Vorstellbares ansammeln: Namen, Objekte, Phänomene, Singularitäten.
In der Folge von Georges Perecs Erinnerung 480: "Ich erinnere mich… (Fortsetzung folgt…)"
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
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.