As I circled the statue, the skies opened. I stayed put, moved by the creature's lonesome, grief-stricken gaze. I ran my hand along his scars and thought of my own, rough and raised beneath my rain jacket. It was impossible not to see myself in this monster. After all, he was why I was there.
"This is the voice of World Control," a metallic, nonhuman baritone blared from a spherical speaker atop a bank of computers. "I bring you peace. It may be the peace of plenty and content, or the peace of unburied death." The men and women in the room-the greatest minds in the American scientific establishment-froze in horror. The computer, a defense system that had become self-aware after gaining control of the world's nuclear weapons, continued:
The album takes its unusual title from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, a source of inspiration. Drummer Greg Saunier describes the album as 'our low-budget, DIY Frankenstein: A sensitive, spurned, intelligent, dehumanized creature made out of people.'
