"I’m Not a Robot" is an absurd reminder of the terrifying realities we often turn a numb mind to. Howie Good is a woman carries her own eyeball, kids beat a homeless man to death with skateboards, a neighbor nails his scrotum to the floor. But in his existential plea is a sympathy that only a human could understand. Good takes the cogs and gears that have been forged in us through constant tragedy and sculpts them back into guts and organs that thump and feel. It is possible to laugh and cry, and Good reminds us that salt can turn things alkaline or acid, that we’re “all connected, no matter how far we live from each other.”
"I’m Not a Robot" is an absurd reminder of the terrifying realities we often turn a numb mind to. Howie Good is a woman carries her own eyeball, kids beat a homeless man to death with skateboards, a neighbor nails his scrotum to the floor. But in his existential plea is a sympathy that only a human could understand. Good takes the cogs and gears that have been forged in us through constant tragedy and sculpts them back into guts and organs that thump and feel. It is possible to laugh and cry, and Good reminds us that salt can turn things alkaline or acid, that we’re “all connected, no matter how far we live from each other.”