The dominating visual feature of the clock is a grim-looking metal sculpture of an insectoid creature similar to a grasshopper or locust. The sculpture is actually the clock's escapement (see below). Taylor calls this beast the Chronophage (literally "time eater", from the Greek χρόνος [chronos] time, and εφάγον [ephagon] I ate). It moves its mouth, appearing to "eat up" the seconds as they pass, and occasionally it "blinks" in seeming satisfaction. The creature's constant motion produces an eerie grinding sound that suits its task. The hour is tolled by the sound of a chain clanking into a small wooden coffin hidden in the back of the clock.
The Chronophage is affectionately known by students variously as "Rosalind", a name coined by the college's Prælector, or "Hopsy".[citation needed]
Below the clock is an inscription from the Vulgate 1 John 2:17: mundus transit et concupiscentia eius ("the world passeth away, and the lust thereof").
The clock is entirely accurate only once every five minutes.[4] The rest of the time, the pendulum may seem to catch or stop, and the lights may lag or, then, race to get ahead. According to Taylor, this erratic motion reflects life's "irregularity".
Conceived as a work of public art, the Chronophage reminds viewers in a dramatic way of the inevitable passing of time. Taylor deliberately designed it to be "terrifying": "Basically I view time as not on your side. He'll eat up every minute of your life, and as soon as one has gone he's salivating for the next." It has been described as "hypnotically beautiful and deeply disturbing"