I'll admit I'm one, too... or at least I try to be at cocktail parties.
How else can I describe a site with Samuel Beckett as the home page masthead? And more importantly, one that throws around the term "concrete poetry" and offers such material as DJ Food's Raiding the 20th Century: Words and Music Expansion and Marshall McLuhan's 1970 Dick Cavett appearance. Also, for all you concrete poets out there, there's Derek Beaulieu's an afterword after words: notes towards a concrete poetic.
This site was on a list of resources from my MFA professor. After a bit of Googling, I resolved it has nothing to do with Gary David Goldberg's Ubu Productions. (You remember - "Sit, Ubu, sit. Good dog!")
Founded in 1996 as a repository for avant-garde visual, concrete, and sound poetry and the response to its marginal distribution of that style of material, it has expanded to become a formidable online collection. It is freely available for noncommercial, educational use. It operates strictly by donation.
UbuWeb ensures open access to out-of-print works that find a second life through digital reprint while representing the work of contemporaries. It addresses problems in the distribution of and access to intellectual materials. UbuWeb does not distribute commercially viable works but rather resurrects sound, video and textual works through their translation into a digital environment.
In other words, if an LP is out of print, they RIP it to an MP3. They scan as many old books as they can get their hands on; they post essays as fast as they can OCR them. Should something return to print, they will remove it from their site immediately.
The site encompasses hundreds of artists, hundreds of gigabytes of sound files, books, texts and videos.
If you've cared to read this far into my post, you MUST take a long look at the Film and Video section.
UbuWeb embodies an unstable community, neither vertical nor horizontal but rather a Deleuzian nomadic model: a 4-dimensional space simultaneously expanding and contracting in every direction, growing "rhizomatically" with ever-increasing unpredictability and uncanniness.