Does our art threaten you? Does it make you completely reconsider your physical existence? Does it make you stop and question the status quo and stop sleepwalking through life like a sheep? Does it make you feel weird and nervous and uncomfortable and unsure if your houseplants want to murder you? Does it set fire to your neat little sphere of influence to the point where you cease knowing what is real and imagined? Good. Sit in that discomfort and let your soul marinate in the chaotic power that is our art. Look at our art and fear us, you prole.