28-year-old TikToker built an elaborate 3,000-pound reinforced concrete sarcophagus to bury a small bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos “to be found by future civilizations.”
@Sunday.nobody, a meme artist whose other work includes a “21st Century Religious Manuscript” a version of Shrek written by a robot and a maze of “Bee Movie,” participated in the four-month process on November 6 on TikTok. Then more than 10 million times.
The Seattle-based builder, who asked not to use his real name, built everything for the project from scratch, including molding the sarcophagus. “Twenty-one hundred pounds of concrete and a bunch of random bruises later.” He left the sarcophagus and the tombstone for a month and a half to dry. Next, he used a pry bar and a sledgehammer to remove the mold, dyed the sarcophagus black, and used his car to turn over the 900-pound tombstone—breaking his workbench in the process.
He then engraved the components of Flamin ‘Hot Cheetos’ on the tombstone made of gold leaf as the finishing touch.
He told that the project cost him $1,200. He funded the project by saving money from his day job as an animator.
He had been saving for two years, when he realized that wasn’t making him happy. So he started spending his money on shop tools and art supplies, “Because there’s nothing else I really want to spend my money on. I don’t want clothes or a car or any of those things.”
He prefers to focus on creating outrageous and fun art projects rather than salable work. “I’d rather sell myself for my work than sell my art to people,” he said. “I don’t really want to be a salesperson.”
It might seem silly to make a 3,000-pound coffin to secure a snack-size bag of Cheetos (which it is), but Sunday.Nom wanted to make sure the bag could last for thousands of years, so he threw the bag into resin, hung Cheetos inside the coffin with wire, and sealed the hull tightly.
He made a phone call to his Instagram account months ago because any of the locals might allow him to bury the coffin on their property, and the couple who watched his previous projects agreed. After several hours of digging and with the help of a tractor and a particularly long trench rod, he finally buried what he had made of 3,000 pounds in the ground.
On top of the newly dredged earthen plot, he added a monument to mark the burial site: “Historic artifact buried below. Do not open for 10,000 years. Burial year 2022.”
All that’s left to do is hand over the tombstone — emblazoned with the QR code that points to his video.
While the reception for his online work was mostly positive, on Sunday. Nobody cares too much about the response to the project.
“Once I put my art online, it was no longer mine,” he told. For the meme artist, he sees himself as “just one small step” into the Internet’s collaborative space, where the most rewarding work is when the Internet, an infinitely diverse being, metabolizes the project and “lifts it up,” “into something exciting,” where Millions of viewers interpret his works and create their own millions of iterations.
Commentators joked that his extensive project “might be the best way to describe our generation” and hoped to discover it—thousands of years in the future—leading to the artist appearing in history lessons and predicting that “this bag will start a war one day” or end up in a “museum on Saturn.” year 2245.”
For the 28-year-old who “makes the art of jokes,” as he might explain to people his parents’ age, his favorite comment is @kat.aliseee’s: “Either they think we worshiped Hot Cheetos, or they ruined us all. And in Either way, they’d be right.”