Impossible Task

To scroll to bear witness, to click to condemn. For all its ingenuity, the mind remains unable to bypass an instinct for destruction. The death drive rolls on, broadcasting itself in an endless, high-res stream of annihilation. For all its emotions, the mind shudders and stares. Beyond our pixels, devastation accelerates.

In Another New Calligraphy's eleventh Impossible Task, the outside world frustratingly rushes as somebody invents a new kind of laughter. Violent devotion's too little against internalized inheritance. Faces flip inside out, but the bright lights can be blinding. Huddled masses go about their business, symbolic of excruciating peace. An ankle is dislocated, a shoulder, a tongue—the skull is bleached clean among the tufts of grass. Mother's fist bruises the sink while pesticide residue lingers on fingers at day's end.

Please give yourself a quiet moment to enjoy Impossible Task.