Woah. I just got off the phone [enter name brand internet calling company here] with Whitney Woolf. As always, she turned me on to something new which isn't new that I thought was new but that I knew before that somehow I had missed or thought I missed but in fact, knew. She indicated that her [new] blog is up and at 'em, a blog focused on her already prodigious [a couple weeks in, a couple weeks out] [[way out]] clip-art mail-art projects. She said she checked out all the Brian Gyson she could find at the Portland Public Library. She has quite a few new clips, and they're in color [this isn't black and white], they feature poems, or words [[{it's more complicated than art}]] assembled to be interpreted as poems, or nuclear landscapes [colored beakers within beakers] which bespeak a unique and quirky world [enter Whitney Woolf's name here] that is and can only be [(Whitney Woolf)] Whitney Woolf. In this all-too commericalized [enter hairspray endorsement (FABB-BITCH, hairstyle for your babbage)here] and franchised [enter fast-food hamburger link here (Slackdonalds: Slimmer cages Sicker Cows Snot Really Beef)] and plagiarized [enter own website here] and self-plagiarized [enter another hairspray ad here] re-appropriated self-plagiarized [Bicycle Basket Escargot: You are Where you Eat.)]and de-fabricated [enter here] and refabricated and remanipulated [enter Foucault] and reinvented [enter enter enter] and later fabricated from facsimile [exit exit exit here] and copied from modeled after [enter exit delete delete delete] and resmacked retapped rebaffled rebuttled remixed reconformed refit-to-size retyped restretched unbleached world, it's refreshing to hear a voice [although it's not a voice, it's visual art you rumpus] like Whitney and also [new not new to me two you] Chauney Peck whom Whitney sites as an influence and contemporary.