Gaze upon the landscape for miles in a distance of concrete and steel.
Look upon the landscape of broken glass and nails. Nauseating carnage —
obscenity calculated to the highest degree. It’s time to dethrone the
masters of the scheme; the ones in the labcoats, the shadowed technicians,
the gilded proprietors of the last seas of green. Drain the excess
from the bloated machines — drain the excess and throw the remnants in
the whipcracker’s eyes. Drain the excess and burn like fire in the sky.
