The sunset over LA was a bullet wound.

They danced to the oldies band like it was 1987 all over again.

She hoped she had somehow slipped into an alternate universe and would find a way back to her own where truth, science, and logic ruled.

The political landscape had become a theater of the absurd.

The light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be a firestorm.

We'd been entertained to death.

He wanted poetry but got vitriol instead.