This structure hangs in engineered suspension—a slick tangle of synthetic limbs and tubing, too intricate to be natural, too absurd to be industrial. It is not alive, yet it mimics life with embarrassing precision. No manual explains its purpose. No witness remembers its commissioning.
This piece reflects a world where symbols have outlived meaning, where systems run long after anyone remembers why. It speaks to the quiet horror of overdesign: of infrastructure that outpaces its context, of machines built not to serve but to perform serviceability. The object, trapped in a mechanical gesture of eternal readiness, is both product and parody of our engineered age.
Here, utility is irrelevant. Function is theatre. The object survives—not because it matters, but because no one ever turned it off.
