a brick wall of comeuppance


A Brick Wall of Comeuppance

The ice melts and then the oceans swell and then everything evaporates. At first the hustle was blatant, now it’s irrevocable. Ask the whales and the polar bears and the makers of electric cars, pay a visit to Venus. No, not the armless goddess of love or the black hooker up in Harlem, I mean the planet that was our mirror twin until the sun stripped away its mantel and turned it greenhouse. Now Venus logs in at 800 degrees surface temperature and has an atmospheric density that crushes space probes like tin cans.


These are piecemeal truths. The only place to hear ultimate truth is in a madhouse. Hence the straitjackets and shock treatment, the mind-sweep drugs and white smocks — to keep the truth under lock and key.

What’s your part in all this?

Not a single hand floats up with an answer.


For every Einstein there are two thousand circus clowns.

For every clown a hundred-thousand dead seals.

Just around the next curve, a brick wall of comeuppance.

See the USA in your Chevrolet before the oil runs out.

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