SOS

Auto Body

Casey Dorobek

David Horvitz

Adriana Lara

Evan McGraw

Giovanna Olmos

Rose Salane

Commonly misconstrued as an acronym, pleading "Save Our Ship”, or more hysterically, “Save Our Souls,” from the other side of an abbreviation, SOS, the International Morse code distress signal (most commonly associated with outdated maritime radio communication), is merely a sequence of "dits," "dahs," and more "dits," used to alert a potential listener of the urgent need for help.

An SOS is not a scream, a cry, or an emotional outburst of any kind. It’s a sign—rather than an expression—of desperation. Its use implies a sober understanding of one’s unfavorable position, and a logical attempt to get out of it.

The sad soul who finds themself in need of such a tool would not arrive at this widely recognizable format for requesting assistance without having at least some familiarity with the system from which it derives meaning, and, conversely, a receiver cannot sense the crisis embedded in its message without prior knowledge of the alphabet that it has been composed from.

In short, the piece of code gets easily emptied of meaning if encountered devoid of any contextual clues, which in turn leaves it aestheticized. It does, however, manage to channel an echo of its once-functional usage. Though signs such as this have been rendered somewhat passive by now, with origins that have little to do with contemporary individuals who end up in dire need of their communicative power, they remain connected to a shared reality for the purpose of normalized comprehensibility—in the case that a mind begins to lose its logical grip under harsh, unexpected circumstances.

As delusion brought on by strenuous conditions take hold of a fragile individual, perhaps lost or temporarily adrift, all one can do is inscribe, transmit, or broadcast the call, and wait to be found.

Help.