Delicate perfumes floated through the theatre; at the penny dukey, fried fish and hot codlins reminded you more of food than fantasy.

But this cavern almost measureless to the eye, stuffed as it is with an Eiffel Tower’s worth of metal, eight-story wheels of gold fan-shape boxes, thousands of miles of wire and fat ductlike coils, echoes with the shriek of power tools, the whine of pumps and cranes, beeps and clanks from wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers and the occasional falling bolt.

[…] there are users out there on the Internet right now who think that they possess an e-mail address containing neither an at-sign (@ often known as an ampersat) nor a domain name.

You can go to heck as far as I'm concerned.