MyBody.exe

These were all great pieces, each individual, each speaking in some way about the body, the body, the body...speech as the body, personal narrative as a map of the body, a map of the body as history, nature and technology as an alien body, the other lurking in the body...the stock obsessions of postmodern art (and I'm as guilty as anyone else in this; because The Body is no longer simply my body, or yours, it's The Body, us together, us separate, antihierarchical, undivided, rhizomatic, quixotic and ingrown---the body is everything foreign and familiar...who doesn't recognize the Latin body in corporation?) But where was the body in Dancing Prey?

It was then I truly heeded Allen's advice. I played with the prey. The patterns repeated themselves--no randomness here, it seemed, unless it was the order the set number of patterns cropped up in. As minimal as it all was, there was something remarkably soothing about it. Genius may have been the most colorful offering there, and the most impressive in terms of design, and Strange Nature and Moles were both illuminating examinations of the possibilities of hypermedia as literature, but Dancing Prey was a bit like a piece by Donald Judd: it was cleansing...There was no body here! In fact, in this piece I found zen perfection: instead of preying on the user's senses the way many lit[art]ure pieces do, Dancing Prey was a work of art wholly other; it transcended the illusory senses.

...conceptual, like Joseph Beuys; concrete, like Tetris...

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