TheNamelessThing.com

Electricity. Isn't it just a darling? All those sleek metallic surfaces, the quiet hum of mysterious moving parts, a space-age dream come true. So very futuristic and clean. But we fail to remember that electricity is simply the manicured fingertips of a giant squid called Industrialisation. If you trace the power source back to the station, you'll see a great heap of stinking coal being burned like Blake's Jerusalem in the foul-smelling glow of a medieval furnace, manned by oily beggars and thunder-voiced masters. There is nothing futuristic about electricity, really. It is a front, a colourful, glossy fingernail at the extremity of the truth about the monkey we are and always will be; dependent on trees forevermore...