Chaos built from three primitives only — a square, a circle and an equilateral triangle, flat bright fills on a pale ground — none of which keeps a rule. Each bar hands them a different madness: a shape teleports while its oversized shadow runs the other way as another shape; a nest of squares contains the frame that contains it and spins up to a blur; gravity turns on the beat and shadows fall up; one shape becomes ninety copies on ninety clocks; an invisible mass drags a lattice of tiny shapes; oversized shapes pile up until XOR shatters the frame. On top, time shears across the picture, faults mirror half the world half a beat in the past, and figure and ground trade places. It breathes in phrases — calm stretches, builds, and frenzies that split the frame into square blocks on different clocks — and the chaos keeps dropping dead silent for a beat and a half, one still shape left, which winds up and leaves through one of eight exits (launch, dive, implode, multiply, drop, swing, shatter, flip) as the noise cuts back in. Shapes run from the pointer; hold it down to fold everything into a kaleidoscope.