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The chair becomes goo to remove it from the strict realm of functional objects to something more bodily, tongue-like, and palms like green boogers spraying. Oreo calls the white substance gluing together its cookies simply "stuf" and its an apt coining for a material vague and formless. It's just stuf, the building block of everything if we didn't know anything about the subatomic but rather formulating the corporeal junk that we might theorize underpins everything, stuf. The stuf we as children saw comprising the characters in cartoons and allowing them to take a hammer to the face. The malleable taffy we believed made up the world and allowed us the fantasy of it remade at our wills as slapstick.
See too: “Puddle, pothole, portal” at Sculpture Center, Chris Burden Metropolis II at LACMA
