The "Ouch-my-brain" post of the day

Tim Cavanaugh finds an essay just chock-full of brain-crogglement:

The tipping point as to why we can lose the war in another way, is self-explanatory, to wit — when we let a bunch of marijuana-smelling, Beetle hair-styled, dirty-faced wild guitar-playing zombies, capsule-upper-downer-dependent brush artists from the dark side of art for art's sake, heroin-sniffing metallic rockers and their Woodstock, cheering drug-addict teenage fans and followers, politically drunk Hollywood activists, school drop-outs, alcohol-soaked bike-riding beatniks, moonstruck religious freaks, urban drifters and their kind, lord our streets and win the war for the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese army.

I'm not sure, but I think we just surrendered to Proxima Centauri.

Stevo Darkly summed it up well in the comments to the original post:

I think the seed of a potentially apt metaphor fell upon the all-too-fertile droppings of rancor, and sprouted into a clarity-smothering kudzu vine of unrestrained berserkery.