You do not find nearly so many "people" wandering around remote corners of the planet anymore. Some "people" even go as far as to think that wilderness is a lock-up of the land. (This is a blunt, obstreperous fact, and "they" continue to dance around it to this day.) But "people", stunted for a plenitude of centuries, have been calling animated things that "they" do not understand "woman", giving "them" a singular pillar of fire with which to light "their" lonely ways. (Some have indicated that, as a side-effect, there is also an irrational acknowledgment of the funeral thank-you-notes page. This is debatable, and the subject of a whole 'nother study, altogether!) So, after years of social engineering crap that will never delete the truth, most "people" now care more about winning "woman" than they do the truth. Wilderness! However, the mere presence or activity of "people" does not disqualify an area of "woman" from being wilderness. As this is indubitably true, the Woman in the Wilderness Study is about to make the startling transformation into the Woman in the Wilderness EVENT: a funeral.
Every particular here alluded to is observed on funereal occasions at the present day, and the "woman" in the wilderness is no exception. So we come to this learned text assured that there is familial comfort (check the bathroom for closet alcoholics), and we have achieved the understanding that the call has been placed for the waling WOMEN to come; only the most skillful of them. (These WOMEN leave their homes without full black attire and weeping veils for the first full year following employment, and, in the wording of the eleventh stanza of our first edition, are "slightly on the edge of plastic". This is to be expected.) The masculine "male" doctor is the counterbalance in the equation, and a bit of local culture must come with "him" (this could mean a multitude of things, but most likely it will simply manifest as a generous helping of pasta). And when you reduce the story down to its bare essentials, it comes to two factors: said "male" doctor and WOMEN. Whine will become wine, and in all the vineyards there shall be glorious wailing, for the twelve-year-old "daughter" who was dying has died. (On the outside, these turns in the text may seem ruthless, but they will teach us that Eternity is the Standing Still of the Present Time, and that the WOMEN certainly have no ruth.) After all this, one might ask: where is the wilderness, now?
The setting becomes a grand estate on the edge of the water, and the wilderness of "woman" is encroaching. (Inessential insanities such as these may get one in trouble with one's self.) "They" usually eat plain food and not a lot of color, but occasionally, "their" LATEX will have to be run twice in a row to clear up the problem. (See: "slightly on the edge of plastic".) Several versions of this scene depict a pensive "man" sitting seaside, as if "he" knew the horror of aging and decay and "woman". And some things may be thrilling precisely because we know what's going to happen: avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. (Losing eluded "woman" then, but that's no matter. Sound ethical decisions involve weighing a potential, and they have a very distinctive sound that should be easily identifiable: a guttural, roaring yawp.) The proceedings are "pleasure" engaging "herself" in an upright seated position, and "she" sits just above the keyboard and acts like the masculine "male" doctor. Real riding is a lot like ballroom dancing and maybe figure skating in pairs. Regardless, the "union" forms a genetic mutation: the funeral.
To recap: "woman" is not WOMEN and wilderness is something else, also. The Wilderness Study clogs up your time with inessential nonsense. Studying is not creating something new using a certain amount of creativity. A profundity has JUST BEEN revealed*:
Though I feel the proceedings would have benefitted from a
soundtrack, the gathered audience actually seemed to
appreciate the many awkward silences. Several people
exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses during one
lengthy pause, and a large man in the back of the chapel even
went as far as to crack a joke while the priest fumbled with
the sacrament. I think [removed] would have enjoyed many
of the comical aspects of the funeral service, but I'm fairly
certain [removed] would have been just as frightened as the
family was when the men responsible for bringing the
family was when the men responsible for bringing the
casket to the altar dropped it when halfway down the aisle.
(Apparently, one of the pallbearers freaked-out at the last
minute, leaving only five to carry the heavy load.) However,
the accident was quite quickly accounted for, and it only took
them a couple of minutes to get [removed] back into the box.
After the ceremony, there was a lovely meal served in the
church cafeteria.
[*There are many things we do not yet know.**]
[**The rest are just made up.]
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