This is a forest for the trees pursuit. Western culture is built on quantification. But what if every consecutive nuance of pitch flowed strugglelessly from the bellows below human aural perception to far above the mosquito tones (the latter best known for chasing loitering teens from Spencer's though there's better purposing for sure)? No divisions or hesitation. Pure glissandi, glorious portamento, legato tendrils of context-free waveforms, ready to introduce not preordained conditional emotive response to the receptive consumerlistener, rather a chance for momentary suspension into something much more mysterious, beautiful, and surprisingsurpassing than any idiomatic assurances can hold.