![]() This is your coming century! They will eat them, Mandus. The innocent, the innocent, Mandus, trod and bled and gassed and starved and beaten and murdered and enslaved. A child’s shadow burnt into the brickwork. I have dug trenches for the refugees I have murdered dissidents where the ground never thaws, and starved the masses into faith. I have lain with holy wars and copulated with the autumnal fallout. ![]() ![]() I have stood knee deep in mud and bone, and filled my lungs with mustard gas. Deep down in the bowels of Mandus’ meat processing company, this mechanical deity shares a vision of the 20th century with him: Mandus Processing Company, London, 31 December 1899: Industrialist, philanthropist, and widower Oswald Mandus stands face to face with the ghost in the machine that he constructed but cannot control. 13 May, 2016 in Features by Adrian Froschauer ![]()
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