The front line on the battlefield is composed of humiliated, shoeless teenage soldiers.
Minutes after an oil tanker spilled into the ocean, a burning fighter jet falls right into it.
Global warming is causing the troubled water to rise above the bridge.

The defense industry is on mushroom cloud nine.
Both ours and the enemy’s overpowering furies shrinks every peacekeeper’s high horse down to a chess knight.
Even my questions are blowin’ in the wind.
The last battle is an invisible one.

All of this is why postcards from Hell are always free.