Gamut hinted at, perhaps apt gap in the rapture. Point sublime not taken. This is, after all, the present pastoral, and I am that ambivalent bract, in theory replete. Got rural if you want it, or revels in the suburban ravine. Simply a matter of disposition.
Resistance is febrile.
The land and its avatars carry big hammers, amassed gathers. Things will not fold. Collapsing new theories, buildings and food, noumena. Monumental Proletarian Music of the Information Age. Contra-bandwidth pitchblende coordinates.