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Word clouds exploded as the vacuous form of auto-generated poetry that - as art - found meaning through artifactifying culture. Pulling objects from the wreckage to totemize - ascribe aura as font-size to. And generate an ostensible meta-layer of meaning. Doesn't this sound like art? Like art, it was stupid. Turning text into an inkblot to search for signs of what ended up being only your mother's indifference. Yourself in a warbled mirror.
See too: Click Merlin Carpenter at Overduin & Co., Lutz Bacher at 3320 18th St
