This is supposed to be an exposure of helplessness of those killing machines (both of the planes had taken part in real conflicts), but for a moment I felt tiny and vulnerable myself instead. People walking around looked like the scavengers around the dead giant's carcass with its surfaces stripped of paint resembling the white bones normally covered by flesh.
Very unlikely anybody in the hall understood fully how had those machines worked and how to build a similar one, witnessing only the shape and the colour. Artists and public were literally feeding on the leftovers technology had given to them.
In other words, the entropy acquired by turning the machine into the art object is most probably less than one it boasted while being functional before.
