June 2025. Footage of the bombing in Tehran was looping on Sydney TV and the news guy kept saying "chain of events". One strike, then the payback, then the next one. I looked over at the pile of bike chains on my bench that I'd been picking up off Sydney streets for months. Chain of events. Cycle of violence.
So I welded them into grenades. Each one is a hollow ball made of counted links: 6 at the bottom, then 8, 10, 12, a middle row of 12, and the same again going back down. Chains are made to go round and round. These go nowhere.
Turn one in your hand and look through the gaps. There's nothing inside.
THE HOLLOW CENTRE
Carl Sagan said that from space our wars look stupid, fights over a speck of dust. So if it is stupid why do we keep doing it?
Maybe the empty middle is the answer. Maybe violence doesn't need a reason. It keeps happening because that's what it does.
I started welding these while chewing on a question I couldn't answer: what if this is just what we are? I wasn't looking for a fix. I just kept asking while shaping these chains. What if war is normal and peace is the odd one out? We've always been at war. Every peace looks like a break to regroup and come back with better weapons.
Every link I welded was one more round. From space it looks stupid, fights over nothing. I looked into the middle, through the gaps in the chain, for a reason and found nothing. Maybe there is no why. The chain, the chain of events, just keeps going. That seems to be what we do.
A barrister friend came over and said "Cycle of violence, so you pull the pin to end it?"
I said "Pull the pin and you die, and the cycle keeps going. Don't pull it and someone else will. The grenade doesn't fix anything."
NEXT LINK
Nobel thought dynamite would make war so terrible we'd stop. Maxim thought the same about the machine gun. Then nukes. Each one just became the next link. The grenade is one more, not terrible enough to stop us, just terrible enough to add to the pile.
This is just how I saw things at that time. I'm not saying it's human nature.
Turn one around and look through the gaps. Nothing's there. No meaning needed, it just keeps going.
The gold one, spray paint over rust. A salvaged single-speed chain welded into a hollow ball: 6 links at the bottom, then 8, 10, 12. Every link counted.
Turn it around and look through the gaps. Nothing inside. Maybe violence doesn't need a reason to keep going.
Gold and silver. Spray paint over rust next to a polished chrome chain. Different finish, same shape. Wars stop, the weapons get better, and it starts again. Chain of events.
Five of them, in gold, green, silver and black. The sixth sits on a plywood base engraved "bro training." on my trainer's shelf. He did two tours in Afghanistan. Chains made to move forward, stuck in a shape that only goes back to the start.
Materials: Salvaged bicycle chains (single-speed and derailleur), gasless MIG welding, aluminium rod, steel safety lever, R-clip pin, spring toggle
Size: About 90 mm across and 130 mm tall
Cleaning: The chains went in a jewellery ultrasonic cleaner with Simple Green, 1 part to 10, 15 minutes at a time until the water stayed clear. It gets into the pins and rollers where a brush can't.
How it's made: I broke the chains with a chain tool, held the counted pieces in place with dabs of Gorilla Glue (4 hours to set), then tack welded every joint with a gasless MIG. 6 links at the bottom, then 8, 10, 12, a middle row of 12, and back down. Two halves welded together at the middle. Nothing inside.
The top: An aluminium rod welded on, a steel lever I bent by hand, an R-clip pin painted red and a spring toggle. The tops are welded shut. You can pull the pin and nothing happens.
Finishes: Gold (spray paint over rust), silver (polished chrome), black (powder coat), green (olive drab). Each chain was in different shape so each got a different finish. Same shape every time.
The middle: Turn it around and look through the gaps. There's nothing inside. Maybe it doesn't need a reason to keep going.
Status: Six made. Five here, one on my trainer's shelf. Wars stop, the weapons get better, and it starts again.
Context in Series
#7 of 12. Proto Pistols was about not being able to help my family. This one zooms out. Violence keeps coming back, and it's not about any one person failing to stop it.
Chains made to move forward, welded into grenades that go nowhere. Look through the gaps and there's nothing inside. Maybe it doesn't need a reason.
Next is Luisón, about watching. Seeing everything and not being able to do anything about it.