The corpse of U.S. President Ronald Reagan, the corpse of Soviet President Sergei Chernenko and the nearly-corpse of Dame Margaret St. Hilda Thatcher, were having a reunion. The reunion was the international Cold War Comeback Tour.
The Cold War Comeback Tour was for the Herd.
The Cold War Comeback Tour was for the Herd.
The Herd wanted the comforting security of the threat of nuclear annihilation.
The Herd did not like the current financial climate; sunbathing in it had led to an epidemic of fiscal influenza that no-one, apart from those who could calculate basic arithmetic, had foreseen.
The Herd did not like the terrorism alerts. Other people’s deaths and misery on Youtube fed their hungry schadenfreude appetites, but not being allowed to carry bottles of water on aeroplanes made them feel nervous.
The Herd fell in love with the certainties of the Cold War Comeback Tour. Bono turned up in his stylish mullet and called for the release of a million peace doves while no-one listened.
Everything was lovely.
Everything was back to how it had been.
When the corpse of U.S. President Ronald Reagan, the corpse of Soviet President Sergei Chernenko and the nearly-corpse of Dame Margaret St. Hilda Thatcher pressed the red button, everyone said that the display was even better than the 2008 Olympics.
The television ratings were spectacular.
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