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Brandishing the machines, tools used in production, the techno-look of the industrial process, underscore technique thus value. Not just shiny, but bearing its technological effort. Nature does not, a crab's exoskeleton extrudes out of soft delicious goo like magic. Fingernails spew from flesh. God hides tricks, ours brute industrial process. It forces the body to be like Frankenstein's monster a gross conglomerate of flesh, forced to dance.