Beyond the Limits of Taste

TL;DR An art project that examines and lays bare the transgression of planetary boundaries through the intentional collapse of aesthetic, ethical, and ecological frameworks. Structurally complicit, energy-devouring, and intellectually obscene—by design, explicitly self-implicated, and deliberately part of the damage it reveals.

by Anonymouse

Eight billion humans consuming a finite planet. Six of nine planetary boundaries breached. 1.5°C crossed in 2024. $315 trillion in debt financing our collective denial. Forever chemicals in every placenta. Microplastics in every brain. Autocracies outnumbering democracies. 12,000 nuclear warheads on hair-trigger alert. Antibiotic-resistant superbugs killing 1.27 million annually. Industrial supertrawlers grinding the base of ocean food webs into supplements. Seventy bioweapons labs engineering pathogens evolution never imagined. Fifty thousand tonnes of chemical weapons corroding on the Baltic seabed. Half of humanity facing water scarcity. 735 million starving while we produce enough for ten billion. One million species facing extinction. Deepfakes spreading six times faster than truth. The green transition dependent on supply chains more toxic than what they replace. Democracy eroding. Reality dissolving. The cryosphere melting. The debt compounding. The curves climbing. The boundaries collapsing. The future foreclosed. This is not a warning. The warning was fifty years ago. This is the invoice.

Sources: Science Nature The Lancet PNAS WHO UNEP IPCC IPBES IEA IMF World Bank SIPRI V-Dem

Manifesto for an AI-Engendered Requiem

We stand fifty-four years after the Club of Rome first inscribed the exponential functions of doom in The Limits to Growth (1972), and the verdict is no longer theoretical: the curves have materialised. Industrial output, population, resource depletion, pollution, food-per-capita, and the resultant collapse scenarios have all crossed the thresholds predicted in the World3 model's standard run. We did not merely overshoot; we performed a deliberate, ecstatic transgression of every planetary boundary—biosphere integrity, climate change, novel entities, biogeochemical flows, land-system change, freshwater use—until the Earth itself became the violated body.

This project is the obscene mirror of that transgression.

Conceived and executed entirely within the voracious furnaces of generative artificial intelligence—tools whose training and inference already consume electricity at nation-state scale, whose data centres accelerate the very carbon pulse they pretend to diagnose—it is not a critique from the outside. It is a symptom. An artefact of the same metabolic rift it exposes. A digital excretion of the Anthropocene.

Here, the most intimate human anatomy is pressed against the coldest abstractions of systems science: temperature anomalies, debt-to-GDP ratios, microplastic concentrations in human tissue, radioactive caesium inventories, krill biomass collapse curves, sovereign default probabilities. The overlay is literal, transparent, unapologetic. What was once veiled in the sanitised graphics of IPCC reports, Nature papers, and World Bank dashboards is now rendered legible upon flesh—because the body politic and the body corporeal are no longer metaphysically distinct. The same logic that extracts, accumulates, and externalises without limit now operates at every scale, from lithosphere to bloodstream.

This is not shock for shock's sake. It is the recognition that the pornographic and the apocalyptic have converged: the same drive that turns the living Earth into a standing reserve is the drive that turns desire into infinitely reproducible, frictionless commodity. The grotesque intimacy of the imagery is therefore not gratuitous; it is diagnostic. When the last barriers of taste collapse, what remains is the raw topology of domination—capital, carbon, code, and cunt in one continuous circuit.

We offer no redemption arc, no policy brief, no "ten things you can do to save the planet." The gallery is the message: a post-human memento mori composed in the language of the machine that is already devouring the future. To scroll is to participate. To generate is to accelerate. To look is to acknowledge that we have gone beyond the limits of growth, beyond the limits of shame, beyond the limits of taste—and that there is no outside from which to judge.

Welcome to the overshoot.

FAQ by Fucking Idiots for Fucking Idiots

Yes, we know what you're thinking. And we don't care. We thought it too.

Yes, we are anonymous.

For good reason. The messenger is irrelevant. The message is not. Ad hominem attacks are easier than engaging with the content. We deny you that comfort.

Yes, we know it's sexist.

Nobody listens otherwise. Fifty years of IPCC reports, peer-reviewed papers, and diplomatic summits have achieved precisely nothing. The curves kept climbing. If exploiting the same attention economy that sells everything from cars to cryptocurrencies is what it takes to make you look at a graph, then so be it. Your outrage is the point.

Yes, we know it's offensive.

735 million people are undernourished. 1 million species face extinction. The oceans are acidifying. But sure, let's discuss whether the imagery hurts your feelings. The real obscenity is outside your window.

No, we are not conspiracy theorists.

Every single claim is sourced from UN agencies (FAO, UNEP, IPBES, UN-Water), peer-reviewed journals (Nature, Science, PNAS, The Lancet), and intergovernmental bodies (IPCC, IEA, IAEA). All 51 URLs work. All 15 DOIs are verified. Three independent AI models scored the dataset 9.5/10 for scientific accuracy. This is mainstream science. The conspiracy is pretending it's not happening.

Yes, the images are AI-generated.

Deliberately. This entire project was created using the same energy-devouring generative AI it critiques. We are structurally complicit. We are part of the damage we reveal. There is no outside from which to judge. Neither for us, nor for you.

No, this is not suitable for children.

Neither is the world we're leaving them. The explicit content is a feature, not a bug. It ensures only those who choose to engage will see it. Consider it a content warning for reality.

Yes, we are part of the problem.

Every page load burns electricity. Every AI inference accelerates the carbon pulse. We are a symptom of the same metabolic rift we expose. A digital excretion of the Anthropocene. If that makes you uncomfortable, good. It should.

No, we don't offer solutions.

There are no "10 things you can do to save the planet." The solutions have been known for decades. They require dismantling the economic logic that makes infinite growth on a finite planet seem rational. That's not a lifestyle choice. It's a civilizational transformation that nobody in power wants. We're just showing you the bill.

Yes, this is art.

And yes, it's ugly. It's supposed to be. Beauty has failed. Aesthetics have failed. When the prettiest nature documentaries end with donation links and nothing changes, perhaps the grotesque is the only honest register left. We're not here to be admired. We're here to be impossible to ignore.

No, we won't apologize.

Not for the nudity. Not for the provocation. Not for making you uncomfortable. Apologize to the future generations who will inherit a 2.7°C world because we were too polite to scream.

What do we want?

Nothing. No funding, no money, no publicity. We are not an NGO begging for donations. No greenwashing either—we are not a state pretending to act. We are Anonymouse. We want nothing from you except that you looked. And now you can't unsee it.

Is this complete?

WTF, no. And it never will be. The crises multiply faster than we can document them. Biodiversity collapse, antibiotic resistance, soil degradation, ocean deoxygenation, nuclear proliferation—the list is endless. This is a sample, not a summary. Want more despair? Check Your Limits for a comprehensive scientific breakdown. We just made it impossible to look away.