Wherever you came from – welcome, unfortunately we cannot greet you in person.

We are no longer here. You arrived too late.

And when you search for our traces in the organic-plastic slush, look at the colorful shopping bags, drink bottles, cotton swabs, disposable razors, the way we looked at drawings in prehistoric caves, at Mayan pyramids and Easter Island statues.


Imagine primitive humans seeing a plastic bag for the first time.

One that doesn't decompose. Doesn't die.

Isn't that what gods look like?

We want you to know that we were here, that we loved, believed in good and truth, in the beauty of a plastic bag dancing in the wind.

Don't judge us too harshly.
We danced and laughed.
Until the very last moment.

It's an afterparty, but we're doing it now, while we're still here, while there's still someone to dance.

"Over and out."

"#AfterHuman afterparty" is a message in a time capsule. Polaroids from humanity's last party.

"The sky was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel."

After everything. All catastrophes have already happened.

Evolution has come to an end. Its final stage were hybrids of living organisms and plastic, which embedded itself in DNA and changed everything. Darwin couldn't have predicted this. It's the eighth day of creation.

Perceived temperature 70 degrees Celsius. If there were still anyone who could perceive it.

There will be no teleportation, time travel, androids on the streets.

There will be no future.

We have never needed music more.