There is a mode of artmaking in which you pre-define parameters: a space of action, a sequence, an object of inquiry. In World's Fair World (2002, 9:40 mins), Bryan Boyce briskly rearranges a 1939 World's Fair film teeming with technological fascination. The outcome is a chilling family drama with hints of pedophilia. Seth Price began with a search engine and the word “painting.” The resulting “Painting” Sites (2001, 19 mins) displays degraded swipes of great artworks as counterpoint to a parable about power. In Anal Masturbation and Object Loss (2002, 6 mins), Steve Reinke manhandles a Freudian textbook by gluing the pages together. His droll speculation describes a library with the information intact-you just don't have to read it. Jacqueline Goss's There There Square (2002, 14 mins) begins with that familiar form, the outline of the United States. The map morphs, as text about cartography appears at appointed locales. Cell-phone conversations freely drift through the air; Eric Saks intercepted a few, then mixed them into a symphony of boisterous banality in Dust (2001, 27:30 mins), which generates a pixel-perfect accompaniment in its palette of etherized motes.