Gjorgji Despodov

Welcome to the Cache Cleanse. Please leave your phones and algorithmic dependencies at the door. In this immersive installation, we enter a near-future scenario where the world is terminally online, and the collective consciousness is suffering from a little-known, absolutely-made-up-but-totally-real condition: Brain Rot.

Caused by chronic overconsumption of low-effort, low-quality, high-repeat media (meme dumps, TikTok loops, Reddit scrolls, that one girl explaining Plato through a Hailey Bieber lip gloss review), this condition leaves civilization drooling, dopamine-fried, and spiritually unwell. But worry not: in this world, we don’t abolish the Brain Rot—we treat it. Enter Cache Cleanse. This is not a spa. This is not a hospital. This is a fabulative materialization—part-therapy center, part-delulu chamber, part-speculative design proposal, but an entirely serious response to the collapse of attention and meaning. It replaces traditional wellness centers with community whisperers, anti-doom scrolling slime stations, and mood-based rituals. Envision a meditation session where instead of breathwork, you're softly instructed to "shhhh, swipe away."  Imagine therapy, but your therapist is a softly-whispering voice repeating, "you are basically chronically chill."

The Cache Cleanse is not a product. It is not a solution. It is a provocotype—a prosthetic for the critical mind, designed to stretch our collective imagination around what care and content detox might mean in a world that cannot unplug. It doesn’t want to save you. It wants you to think about why you needed saving in the first place.