u003cpu003eu003cbu003eA slow-motion drive-by view of a collapsing universe meant to sit in the palm of your hand.u003cbru003eu003cbru003eu003c/bu003eHow fast can you go in a buggy drawn by the flap of a butterflys wings? How do you measure the speed of waking from a dream? Such abstract inquiries into the unrelenting absurdity of contemporary life make up this omnibus of meditative vignettes from one of mainland Chinas most prolific and recognizableyet anonymousnew underground cartoonists of the current generation.u003cbru003eu003cbru003eEvery story in u003ciu003e20 km/hu003c/iu003e toes the line between pun and poetry, and lands somewhere just short of a zen koan: Come back to it as often as you like, it will never read quite the same way twice. A nondescript figure awakes from an assembly line of identically fashioned companions and boards a rowboat destined for the unknown. A man holds the key to sleep in his hand and uses it to disappear into his mattress. The moon is plucked from the sky and fed into a vending machine for a can of soda.u003cbru003eu003cbru003eWoshibais minimalist renderings are a startlingly delightful cocktail of existential dread and silent slapstick that arrest the minds eye with equal parts humor and grace.u003c/pu003e
