As the oldest city on the Australian continent after Sydney, Hobart was a harbor-side slumbering fishing town where very little happened. That was all till 2011 when a glittering mirrored box was raised by the ferry point, its red angled columns easily spotted from any other point along the harbor. Descending the dim steel staircase within the subterranean building, you would find yourself entering a twisted Disneyland for the rebellious. The first thing that slams visitors back 10 feet is the putrid stench of human waste, found to originate from the most reviled and fascinating exhibit within. ‘The Cloaca’ is the brainchild of Wim Delvoye, a whirring mechanical machine mimicking the human alimentary canal. Sparse lighting fills the museums corridors, spotlights flooding each showcase, photograph and sculpture instead. Decadent dark chocolate is molded to frighten, depicting the life-like features of an 18 year-old suicide bomber’s entrails seconds after being maimed by the explosion. The MONA was built with the intention to get under the skin of its visitors; to rankle your sensibilities and pop uncomfortable questions. The exhibits are hosted on a rotational basis in addition to some of the more permanent showcases found within. Occasionally, film specials are screened to introduce visitors to the artists behind the bizarre sets. The MONA isn’t your typical contemporary art museum but a confrontation of the convoluted reality of today.