WHEN GAS FACE was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and did not weary of it for ten years.
But at last his heart turned. One morning he rose with the dawn, stepped before the rising sun, and spake unto it thus...
something like: Philip K. Dick and Devendra Banhart retell the alternative death story of Tony Hancock, the murder of Jean Charles de Menezes, the race for space and the race for space for race...
When a photographer is sent to gloss over the activities of a ruthless export company stripping a Latin American nation bare, he comes face to face with an insurgency that threatens to ask him the very questions he is trying to avoid asking himself, in a language he cannot fail to understand...
...you can take boxes out of the country, but you can't take the country out of boxes...