A little bit Dada, a little bit “only sold on television,” intentionally useless inventions called Chindogu look like a bunch of plastic junk at first glance, but there’s more to it than that. And they’re not quite altogether useless. In fact, as creator Kenji Kawakami stated when he first revealed Chindogu to the world in 1995, these objects are “un-useless.” They have a purpose, but they take their halfway practical solution to a perceived problem and stretch it to maximum absurdity. It’s all kind of dumb, and that’s the point.

Chindogu literally translates to “weird tool,” and that’s clearly what these inventions are. There’s a face shield so you don’t splatter ramen broth in your hair. A tiny broom and dustpan attached to the tips of your shoes let you clean the floor very awkwardly, getting the broom filthy as you walk through the city. A suction cup attached to a helmet holds you upright when you want to take a nap on the subway. Tiny roller skate wheels on the pointy heels of your stiletto shoes – but only the heels – could almost help you skate along the road. But not really.

Whatever the particular invention is trying to address, it does so in a way that introduces other problems, looks incredibly stupid, or both. But most of the time, the so-called “problem” isn’t a real problem at all.

“In our world, all technology is progressing, right?” says Kawakami. “So I thought why not take a simple fork and make it electric. Using this fork, with a single flick of the switch you can effortlessly wind up spaghetti. The only drawback is that the spaghetti sauce goes flying everywhere. So the end result is that it really is better not to use it. And that is what Chindogu means. It isn’t something that anyone would actually use, but it has to be a tool that a person could use.”

If all of this feels like a critique on consumer culture – or you’re just feeling a little ornery about the proliferation of crap on a planet that seems to be rapidly circling the drain – Kawakami has something to clarify about that. Kind of.

“I despise materialism and how everything is turned into a commodity, things that should be belong to everyone are patented and turned into private property. I’ve never registered a patent and I never will because the world of patents is dirty, full of greed and competition.”

Just browse any old listicle of “products that shouldn’t exist” and you’ll see plenty of wacky items that appear to be based on early Chindogu designs, but with no self-awareness or sense of irony. Ostrich pillows, goldfish walkers, metal-detecting sandals, gag gifts. But not only are these objects a little too useful at times, they fail to be Chindogu immediately simply because they’re available for sale, invalidating the entire purpose. They’re mass-produced and distributed. They’re almost always patented.

So what actually makes an object Chindogu? Kawakami has helpfully laid out ten vital tenets of Chindogu to explain. To summarize: Chindogu cannot be for sale; it must exist in the real world as a physical object; it must have a spirit of anarchy; it must be a tool for everyday life; it can’t be created purely for the purpose of humor; it must not be used as propaganda; it can never be taboo; it cannot be patented and it can never be prejudiced, i.e. “Chindogu must never favor one race or religion over another. Young and old, male and female, rich and poor – all should have free and equal chance to enjoy each and every Chindogu.”

Just like Chindogu objects themselves, Kawakami’s ‘Ten Chindogu Tenets’ contradict themselves a bit, but that just means any object that claims to be Chindogu has to be a lot more carefully thought out than it appears at first glance. For instance, that seventh tenet says in full, “Chindogu are not propaganda. Chindogu are innocent. They are made to be used, even though they cannot be used. They should not be created as a perverse or ironic comment on the sorry state of mankind.”

So yeah, they may be weird creations that look like junk – but what they actually are is a form of art (or perhaps anti-art) that begs you not to take it seriously. Back to that spirit of anarchy: “Chindogu are man-made objects that have broken free from the chains of usefulness. They represent freedom of thought and action: the freedom to challenge and suffocate historical dominance of conservative utility; the freedom to be (almost) useless.”

Eschewing the internet for the way it isolates people and threatens to make human interactions more superficial, Kawakami hasn’t released many more Chindogu creations of his own outside a series of books, including ‘101 Unuseless Japanese Inventions: The Art of Chindogu‘ and ‘The Big Bento Box of Unuseless Japanese Inventions.’

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But plenty of people have come to love Chindogu, and contributed to the movement with their own strange inventions. A look at the #chindogu tag on Instagram reveals a wealth of recent creations (and a lot of love for the concept.)

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In a our 24-hour news cycle era of looming climate change catastrophe, stranger-than-fiction political buffoonery and an ever-growing feeling that we’ve slipped into a parallel timeline, sometimes it’s nice to just embrace the absurd, revel in it, and maybe walk around with rolls of toilet paper attached to our heads.

At first glance, these sculptures look just like delicate porcelain or ceramic – but they hide a surprising secret. Beijing artist Li Hongbo‘s sculptures are actually made of thousands of layers of plain white paper, glued together into heavy accordion-like shapes that only appear totally solid when they are still.

When grabbed and manipulated, their true nature is revealed. They are flexible and complex, capable of stretching long distances and looking altogether otherworldly, particularly the human figures.

Li Hongbo was inspired by traditional Chinese toys made from intricately folded and glued pieces of thin paper. The toys are stored flat but open up to reveal fun, playful shapes.

Likewise, Li Hongbo’s sculptures exist in two different states. Their static shape is stable, solid and beautiful – but when they are moved, their true nature is revealed. They are ephemeral, not stable; airy, not solid – but the beauty of these flexible sculptures remains.

(all images via: Beautiful Life)

The key to becoming a respected artist is not necessarily to do something entirely new and different, but to do it in a compelling way. Belgian artist Wim Delvoye is certainly not the first artist to ever carve old tires into new works of art, but he does it so masterfully that his pieces are unforgettable.

Wim Delvoye has got to be a very patient man to do what he does. The tires he works with are regular, thick, tough vehicle (and sometimes tractor) tires, yet the intricate designs he gives them would suggest he is working with a much softer material.

The lines are precise and perfectly placed, each leaf and petal and vine divinely shaped, and the symmetry wonderfully formed. Delvoye carves every tire by hand with no machines involved.

Each tire looks a bit like a fancy decoration, sort of like lace made of rubber. The delicate beauty of the carvings seems oddly at home with the rough industrial material into which they are carved.

Our world has become so fast-paced these days. Most of the daily activities we used to engage in now have shortened versions, abbreviations of their former selves that save us time but disconnect us from the actual activities. One artist is getting back to a slower type of life by engaging in one of the most painstaking, slowest types of art he could find: miniature pencil carvings.

(images via: The Modern Artist)

Dalton Ghetti is a carpenter by trade, but he has loved carving since he was a small child. He began with tree bark and experimented with plenty of materials before finally settling on pencils. The graphite is easy to work with since it has no grain, but it allows for a large measure of interest for the artist due to its small size and delicate nature.

(images via: The Modern Artist)

Ghetti’s intricate carvings can take him weeks, months or even years to complete. But the artist is not worried about how many moments of his life that he spends sharpening pencils. These moments are almost like meditation for the man who takes life a little more slowly than the rest of us.

(images via: The Modern Artist)

The tiny and detailed carvings are created without the benefit of a magnifying glass. Ghetti uses sewing needles, razor blades and No. 2 or carpenter’s pencils to slowly carve out intricate shapes and scenes.

(images via: The Modern Artist)

Originally from Brazil but now residing in Connecticut, Dalton Ghetti uses his training as an architect and carpenter to inform his artistic process. While he does sometimes slip up and break a pencil, even these “failures” are beautiful to look at.

(images via: Dalton M. Ghetti)

Although there is plenty of interest in Ghetti’s carvings, he does not sell his pencil art. Fans do have a chance to own a bit of his work as he sells posters and postcards of his completed pieces, but don’t expect him to autograph your poster with the pen you have in your pocket; he is so dedicated to his material that he insists on signing his name in pencil.

They seem soft and out-of-focus; at first, you may think they’re made of wax. Get closer and you’ll notice a sort of honeycomb pattern in each of these strange relief sculptures, wherein the shapes of human body parts seem to be pushing themselves out of the wall from behind. These sculptures, by Korean artist Sang Sik Hong, are actually made of thousands of plastic drinking straws.

The artist explains that the idea for the imagery in relation to the materials used comes from the juxtaposition of power and weakness, specifically, the power of desire versus the weakness of such an ephemeral material.

“Although everyone desires power, only a few people can have it. Power is the symbol of strength and the object for one’s wish since it accompanies many interests. Power is strong, scarce and heading toward eternity. However, the straw, contrary to the properties of power, is a weak structure, easily available to anyone for it is produced on a large scale and disposable material.”