I left the confines of my grubby room of questionable privacy. The desert called to me, so I went. The further away I strolled revealed more signs of life...but I question the variety thereof.

The hills have eyes...

"Wild, dark times are rumbling toward us, and the prophet who wishes to write a new apocalypse will have to invent entirely new beasts, and beasts so terrible that the ancient animal symbols of St. John will seem like cooing doves and cupids in comparison."
-- Heinrich Heine