Brand strategy and digital creation.

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Image with caption. You see? It's curious. Ted did figure it out - time travel. And when we get back, we gonna tell everyone. How it's possible, how it's done, what the dangers are.

—Headquarters of the United Nations

Architect:
Oscar Niemeyer, Le Corbusier

Completed:
1952
 
Supposed Location:
760 United Nations Plaza, New York
 
Current Location:
Unknown
 

http://misplaced.design/4/
John R. Bolton had been having the same dream for months. In it he’s wandering alone in the desert like a washed-up Lawrence of Arabia. He knows that if he doesn’t find water soon, the buzzards overhead will be picking flesh from his mustache by dawn. Then, in the distance, he spots an oasis. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he sprints toward it, kicking up sand in all directions, his white, tattered robes flapping in the breeze. He runs and runs, until something very strange and grotesque happens: The oasis morphs into the UN Headquarters in New York. Realizing that he’s doomed, former Ambassador Bolton falls to his knees. The desert sands quickly cover over him until there’s no trace left. And then he wakes up.

John R. Bolton had been having the same dream for months. In it he’s wandering alone in the desert like a washed-up Lawrence of Arabia. He knows that if he doesn’t find water soon, the buzzards overhead will be picking flesh from his mustache by dawn. Then, in the distance, he spots an oasis. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he sprints toward it, kicking up sand in all directions, his white, tattered robes flapping in the breeze. He runs and runs, until something very strange and grotesque happens: The oasis morphs into the UN Headquarters in New York. Realizing that he’s doomed, former Ambassador Bolton falls to his knees. The desert sands quickly cover over him until there’s no trace left. And then he wakes up.

John R. Bolton had been having the same dream for months. In it he’s wandering alone in the desert like a washed-up Lawrence of Arabia. He knows that if he doesn’t find water soon, the buzzards overhead will be picking flesh from his mustache by dawn. Then, in the distance, he spots an oasis. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he sprints toward it, kicking up sand in all directions, his white, tattered robes flapping in the breeze. He runs and runs, until something very strange and grotesque happens: The oasis morphs into the UN Headquarters in New York. Realizing that he’s doomed, former Ambassador Bolton falls to his knees. The desert sands quickly cover over him until there’s no trace left. And then he wakes up.