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I'm tired of our body mocked. Not as cruel as women compared to meat, setting men next to machines bears a similar titillation in objectification. You, a machine, a corruption of the sublime, in repetition awe becomes bullying mocking the human for its meat. Stop this. We are but flesh objects, barely cognizant stupid creatures, morons in search of hope, and nailing us to crosses of our trash seems a brave act but it is impish, pornographic, unneeded. Are we not aware enough of our mortality? Young boys who will rust as any other. You oxidize, we take antioxidants. I rust. This isn't forcing hamlet to consider his skull but forcing him to consider his waste, hulking, of his culture. A brain at room temperature, horsepower.
see too: Erwin Wurm at Kunstmuseum Wolfsburg, Geumhyung Jeong at KLEMM’S, Venice: Anne Imhof at German Pavilion