"When the cities are gone...and all the ruckus has died away, when sunflowers push up through the concrete and asphalt of forgotten interstate freeways, when the Kremlin and the Pentagon are turned into nursing homes for generals, presidents and other such shitheads, when the glass-aluminum skyscraper tombs of Phoenix, Arizona barely show above the sand dunes, why then, why then, why then by God maybe freemen and wildwomen on horses, free women and wild men can roam the sagebrush canyonlands in freedom--goddamit! Herding the feral cattle into box canyons, and gorge on bloody meat and bleeding fucking internal organs, and dance all night to the music of fiddles! Banjos! Steel guitars! by the light of the reborn moon!--by God--Yes!"