Another term I have Google Alerts set to search is "Wallace Stevens." This is imperfect, since I pick of new uses of "Wallace" as well as a few, each day, about "Wallace Stevens." One can set Google Alerts to search only the blogosphere; I have it set to search the whole wide web including the blogosphere, blogs being, of course, merely easily updated web pages that follow a preprogrammed design protocol.
This is how I come in contact with the outer edges of the blogosphere, and occasionally I'm charmed, excited, stirred, surprised, miffed, etc. Mostly I find the air up there at the edge fairly thin. This morning, for instance, I awoke to find someone named "anf" whose blog is called "smallfriends" and whose profile says "forever hoping to look large." I don't see or sense anything small about anf so I'll assume the self-narrowness is a Dickinsonian modesty, which thus might be ironic. Perhaps she's powerful. A link to her web site tells me she's "ashlee nicolle ferlito," a San Fran-based artist, trained at Yale and in France and Cyprus. She's been blogging since January 2007--which is right about the time blogs exploded.
So, Wallace Stevens. What does Stevens mean to this young artist? She's lately been "obsessed with money" and been "fascinat[ed] with the concept of value." So she read or re-read Stevens' lecture (in The Necessary Angel) called "Imagination as Value." The value of money is "a pretty amazing mass hallucination," anf decides. She's losing (she says "loosing") the "ability" to have faith in the value of currency. Somehow symmetry become an alternative to psychic monetary deflation. Putting her blog entries (thoughts) into artistic practice seems to be anf's daily mode, and so here's what follows: photos of some dollar-bill cut-ups. If you look at anf's paintings you realize this is a digression from her usual work. For the moment her art is to make paper part of her world of smallfriends - "paper that just happens to be money." So here, above right, is what Wallace Stevens in the blogosphere has become this morning. I am intrigued by the morphing. Why not?
"I teach horizontally, meaning that while I might begin with a fixed idea of what I'm going to teach that day, I let it drift rhizomatically way off topic, often pulling it back when it gets too far. I rely on non-fixed materials to teach this way; the whole world is at my fingertips. Should I go off on a tangent about John and Rauschenberg and their love relationship as expressed in Rauschenberg's bed, an image of that bed is always a click away. From there, we can head anywhere into the non-fixed universe, be it film, text or sound. And of course, that always takes us elsewhere. As Cage says, 'We are getting nowhere fast.'" 
that anyone has yet got the imaginative measure of that terrifying day six years ago. Certainly our Tolstoy has not crawled out of the rubble. The closest we have, Don DeLillo, succeeded as an essayist-journalist ("In the Ruins of the Future: Reflections on Terror and Loss in the Shadow of September,” Harper’s, December 2001) but, to my mind, failed as a novelist ("Falling Man"). One reason, perhaps, is that the remembered emotion was instantly buried under a pile of cultural junk.' - Tod Gitlin in his review of Susan Faludi's The Terror Dream (written for 
