At a distance, the windmill that pierced the side of Jacob's 頭 (allowing insertion of the BeeTV) rotates lonely, extracting 水 from a well. Here Art (or Bad Science, as it is known among Scientists Who Know) has degenerated, and become Technology, doing useful everyday work here in the 砂漠, dragging up 水 out of the 地面. But you can still feel the glimmer of Uselessness in it, which attracts your 目, your 心, your idle 魂 in search of either Ethical Encouragement or, more simply, a few moments of relaxation from the daily killing.
