The obscene machine project, the ethnic mannequin initiative, the tex[t]-mex book, the eyegiene follow-up reverie, are all nothing more and nothing less than an ongoing meditation on the funky things that happen when word and image consort, when the the semantic and semiotic "get down," "hook-up," and basically penetrate each other.
No one, and I mean, "NO ONE," gets this better than Chris Ware.*
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*OK, so I am exagerrating: John Berger, in Ways of Seeing, Frantz Fanon, in Black Skin, White Masks, Edmundo Desnoes, in "Cuba Made Me This Way" in the On Signs anthology, Jacques Derrida. in Rights of Inspection, Humberto Eco, in The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana, Rosalind Krauss, in The Optical Unconscious, and Irit Rogoff, in Terra Inferma, get it also. I know, I know! I left out Roland Barthes, Paul Virilio, and others. Soon! soon!
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