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Nine Attempts to Clone Jason Nelson: Attempts 1-3 - Page 2© Lewis laCook
Page 2
Dec 6, 2001
covered by a colorful canvas proclaiming my healing potions and mind control
powers, pulled by barking AMD processors, will roll into some isolated suburb.
I’ll stop in the parking lot of a supermart discount store and unfold a
stage of computer monitors and wireless mice. Customers burdened by bags of
snack foods and life’s all consuming romantic pettiness, will stop in search
of free samples. Once there I’ll place their hands on a mouse and draw
them into my tiny worlds. Speakers will blow out sounds, images will roll into
their eyes and text bounces ideas and fragmented story bits into their bellies.
Instead of money I’ll accept coupons or the free items from buy-one-get-one-free
sales as payment for my services. Some will leave far past closing time, when
the store’s lights dim, and stumble to their cars vaguely remembering home.
Others will leave after only a few minutes, angry at the invasion, and questioning
the need for such disorienting art. Early that next morning I’ll pack the
wagon and ponder taking the meat packing job yearning on the storefront window,
before finally, instinctively, coaxing my traveling hypermedia show out to the
street."
Attempt 2: Walking into Rooms and Bumping into Furniture
"Oddly enough my undergraduate degree was in Cultural Geography from the
University of Oklahoma. And I attended graduate school there for the same subject."
Jason Nelson, hypermedia artist, leans back in his stiff deck chair. All around
us, Poem 7 of Nine Attempts to Clone a Poem gushes. I barely manage to
dodge the multi-colored wheel of text that spins relentlessly over the surface
of the roof. "In many ways geography and the love of place still drives
my work. Hypermedia, I feel, is the creation of place. Sure, these hyperplaces
aren’t composed of bricks or long straight roads past fallow fields and
dying oaks. But each hypermedia creation is a small new world, complete with
an address. Each piece is designed to satisfy a multitude of senses, and pull
the reader into an interactive data landscape."
Poem 7 features a permuted Balinese Monkey-King chant as its music. The gutteral
chak-chak! of the Ketjack cushions the poem's interface--this spinning
wheel of text, which I can make whirl with my mouse's touch. Wherever I touch
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