The Department of Decontam­ination

What are you willing to exchange for the undivided attention of others? Your time? Your agency? Your dignity? At an all-night immersive event on Valentine's Day, a team of retro-future first responders dialed our Geiger counters in on the experience of becoming an object of obsession.

In the brave new subterranean world that emerged following the explosive conclusion of an alternate Cold War history, The Department of Decontamination existed to ensure the health and safety of the body politic. At a state-sponsored ceremony celebrating the regime's glorious return to the once-again inhabitable surface, DoD was tasked with neutralizing unstable elements.

An 8-person Containment Unit maintained a constant, mobile presence on the main floor. Those found to possess radiation levels in excess of state-prescribed safety standards were promptly Contained and transported to the Isolation Tent, where they were photographed, interviewed, tested via several scientific procedures, decontaminated, and ejected back into the event. Throughout the process, guests and DoD members filled out a variety of administrative and medical forms related to the Containment process. Guests were advised to keep these documents as proof of Decontamination.

I wrote the original pitch in the form of a military operations plan, then designed the Containment Unit's costumes, the decontamination sequence, and every form in the process. On the night of the event, I served as a member of the Decontamination Unit.

Nearly a decade later, I ran into one of the guests. He still had his forms.