Wilderness. The Word Itself Is Music.

Of All The Featherless Beasts, Only Man, Chained By His Self-imposed Slavery To The Clock, Denies The Elemental Fire And Proceeds As Best He Can About His Business, Suffering Quietly, Martyr To His Madness. Much To Learn.

I Would Prefer To Write About Everything; What Else Is There? But One Must Be Selective.

The Real Work Of Men Was Hunting Meat. The Invention Of Agriculture Was A Giant Step In The Wrong Direction, Leading To Serfdom, Cities, And Empire. From A Race Of Hunters, Artists, Warriors, And Tamers Of Horses, We Degraded Ourselves To What We Are Now: Clerks, Functionaries, Laborers, Entertainers, Processors Of Information.

Simplicity Is Always A Virtue.

Epitaphs For A Gravestone: 'please: No Hooliganism'; Or 'es Prohibe Se Hace Agua Aqui'; Or 'no Comment'.