, and audiences who have truck with such sites. So it makes perfect sense that the art world thus conceived would seem stricken by both geopolitical anxiety and strange dizziness about the current state of global affairs. For one thing, as demonstrated by the numerous high-profile exhibitions on the topic, the art world now appears entangled in a territory war, in which its official institutions (namely, museums, those loci of art-historical knowledge) are imagined to defend their proprietary interests from global outsiders and their curatorial incursions. By the same token, something of a colonial logic underwrites the expansion of the art world's traditional borders, as if the art world itself were gleefully following globalization's imperial mandate. Critics argue that globalization is imposing a deadening cultural uniformity. The phenomenon can be seen in the form of Coca-Cola, McDonald's, and Mickey Mouse. Many people dread that local cultures and national identifies are dissolving into crass all-American consumerism. That cultural imperialism is said to impose American values as well as products, promote the commercial at the expense of the authentic, and substitute shallow gratification for deeper satisfaction.
             Proponents argue that fears about Americanized uniformity are overblown. For a start, many "American" products are not as all-American as they seem; MTV in Asia promotes Thai pop stars and plays rock music sung in Mandarin. Nor are American products all-conquering. Coke accounts for less than two of the 64 fluid ounces that the typical person drinks a day. France imported a mere $620 million in food from the United States in 2000, while exporting to America three times that. Worldwide, pizzas are more popular than burgers and Chinese restaurants sprout up everywhere. In fashion, Italian or French are more popular than American brands. Nike shoes are given a run for their money by Germany's Adidas, Britain's Reebok, and ...