Getting into the references (It’s about having interesting material) Other writers such as Draxler, Rebentisch, Brassier, or even Poititout: Only by becoming aware of the different logics in the various fields,
Getting into the references (It’s about having interesting material)
Other writers such as Draxler, Rebentisch, Brassier, or even Poititout: Only by becoming aware of the different logics in the various fields, and by seriously pursuing them, can we truly grasp or treat something. We agree with this. Only if a practice becomes as sharp and precise as possible in its logic can it work right, that is, formulate a next step. At any rate: We are sitting at overburdened networks, transmission is jerky and awkward, we see ourselves as moderate animations. And: Ultimately, however, it is also understandable that no one wants to waste his time on Earth immersed in institutions that he actually rejects.
Getting out a bit (Unwinding)
“What does it mean to line something up perfectly?” asks Donald Duck. “Not going around bragging,” says Goofy. “Not storming in to have a party and then letting yourself get caught right away.” The system was in “off” mode. And in “off” mode there was no private property, no difference between Burger King and Petzi’s Mobile Phone Shop. Everything that was previously hoarded behind steel and glass could now be had. Pillaging was not stealing or shopping by other means. It was an explanation, and indeed, one that I understood when I saw the fire extinguisher crash through the window: Nikes are light. So they’re fast. (Since I was not authentic, I was treated like air for the rest of the night–as I also was in the days afterwards, when everyone got out their “on” buttons again.)
S.A.S.: Self-Experiment in Arriving Somewhere (Debutante’s Ball)
The quietest living thought operated like tactlessness. Despite the good tone, the most exquisite politeness, and the general effort to make itself endearing, the boredom was in plain sight. The young people, who were dutifully paying their respects, were afraid of talking about something that would suggest any suspicion of a thought or might betray some sort of forbidden reading, and so fell silent after a few elegant catch phrases. And they’re still at attention, a covert parade in full public, acting as if time didn’t have any value, and what a lie that was. A lie that meant nothing to me. Even at the end of the eighteenth century Karl Philipp Moritz explicitly stated: Life must be interesting in order to avoid the unbearable boredom. Then in Romanticism the word interesting usually turned up alongside the term boredom. The two words gained currency more or less at the same time and their usage steadily increased. Both words have the effect that the sun moves only with difficulty, if at all, and that a day seems to have fifty hours. Both words encourage us to look constantly out of the window and to run to the door in case a brother has come. In addition, both words instill an aversion to the place where one lives, and to living itself, to work and to the idea that love among sisters and brothers has disappeared and that there is no one to comfort you.
Movements (from out of the middle)
I had just left my apartment to stroll around, as I try to do every evening. These journeys I have made in the last few years have put me into all kinds of weird situations, and I have found it increasingly difficult to keep them apart. They get mixed up more and more in my memory, even with what I read or have experienced in my dreams. Almost like I have long imagined, that it could all be more exciting. In a bus chewing on tapioca and some kind of unfamiliar nuts, driving through the morning haze from Mali to Burkina Faso, practicing endless unimaginable Hubad Lubad combinations among auto noise and the instructor’s bellowing in small, hot rooms with unfinished concrete walls in the Philippines, then Huboldt Forum, photosynthesis, then again the café at the Sky Market, streets in some big city, beaches, at a kiosk, barricades in high-rises, being warmed by two suns, the scent from fading magnolias, frying chili, gasoline and solvent, unaired rooms, cigarette smoke over and over, sitting on benches and overhearing conversations in Luxembourgian, Vietnamese, German, French, Hebrew or optionally the ambiance of a subway stop, of an organic farmer’s market, of a trade fair for metalworking, or a highway rest stop.
Under the label NO FUTURE KOMPLEX Mitra Wakil, Stephan Janitzky, and Sebastian Stein, along with a broader context developed in friendship, are currently training for an assault on hermetic formats in the context of contemporary art and correlated theory production. The starting point was the series of workshops “NO FUTURE: bourgeois escapism and preaching to the converted” in November 2011 at Lothringer13_Laden, an art space in Munich, co-organized by Mitra Wakil, Stephan Janitzky, and Sebastian Stein from 2011 until around 2014.
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