Common sense drinks alone

Common Sense Drinks Alone Common Sense downs another shot at the end of the bar.

He has been at it for an hour or so, and things out there are starting to get fuzzy.

Now reality comes in bits and waves, an optical illusion, made palatable by carefully spun lies.

Corporate paltering selling plasticine promises of old age sex and face paralyzing beauty cream.

Another shot down, the future looks Dali-esque, eyeballs hardening, funhouse mirror reflects aberations of the past.

Grabbing the bottle, four fingers down, and everything dims, intentional vivisepulture, fresh food for the worms.

Common Sense found puking behind the dumpster in the alley, while the Tea Party looks for its Mad Hatter, sitting on their hands for the revolution to come.

Wiping his mouth, bellicose bantering from would be jingoists fill his ears with Pavlovian responses to real world issues manufactured by the Fair and Balanced. and tasting stale vomit, Common Sense goes home.