There is no more forlorn sight in the world than one 75-foot tall lit-up billboard after another hawking lonely rooms and white bread food at the end of a long day of glare flashing off semis, afternoon tree shadows twitching the iris too fast, headlights to the left, red lights ahead, another off-ramp hawked with the same shit after the same shit. All the same shit. Noisy "grit" towns, and somehow, some long dead mountain man or farmer or native man's great great great great grandson is proud to have or hawk sign space to SCREAM in everyone's eyes about what they should really really buy, he's proud of the trucks and the interstates crisscrossing the land so a person can't walk out in peace anymore.