So began the intro to "Two Tribes" by Frankie goes to Cricklewood. (I thought he went to Hollywood? Perhaps he took a relaxed detour first?)
As the world teetered on the brink of nuclear holocaust during 1984, Frankie spoke of the threat to mankind as the Cold War entered it's coolest period. Brrrrrrrr....!!!
Staying at the UK number 1 spot for 9 successive weeks, it featured the vocals of Holly Festive Johnson, with assorted electronic effects and the realistic opening siren, which still chills me to this day. Interestingly the moustachioed "dancer" of the group now lives here in New Zealand, on Waiheke Island to be precise, where I was over at Christmas.
It also contains a narrative by the marvellous Patrick Allen who ominously announced in a stentorian but supposedly reassuringly calm voice such advisory gems as:
"If you are caught out in the open, lie down"
"If your grandmother or any other member of the family should die whilst in the shelter, put them outside, but remember to tag them first for identification purposes."
Now of course if you are indeed caught out in the open and happen to discern the chilling wailing of the four minute warning siren, then the best advice really is to run like crazy waving your limbs in an agitated jumble and then after four minutes suddenly vaporize into millions of atoms.
Similarly if you place a radioactive relative outside, tagged or not, this too is fraught with logistical problems. The local authority may refuse to collect them, citing isotope affected body collection is only on Mondays and not today as it is a Tuesday, or a day later in the case of a public holiday. Or with equal bureaucratic panache, that the glowing relative must be sorted into the right pile for recycling: green, brown or clear should do it.
Patrick Allen was also known for being the face of Barratt Homes as he helicoptered around the nation extolling the virtues of Barratts tiny shiny new houses in vast estates.
These were the very same estates that fared so well in the simulated nuclear blasts in the Protect and Survive booklets handed out by a concerned UK government as the Cold War heated up.
With such great advice as building a nuclear shelter in the lounge from doors. mattresses and sandbags, to stocking up on essential foodstuffs to endure the endless nuclear winter.
(Click on link to read actual 1980 advice pamplet)
I am not quite sure which government department tested the blast protection and radioactivity repelling properties of a mattress, but under Thatcher's free market it was no doubt sponsored by Sleepyhead and Sealy Posturepedic. Possibly the same government department responsible for maintaining the secrecy of government only nuclear hideouts....
But Andrew, I hear my dear readers cry, why is this relevant in today's, peaceful world? Surely the threat of nuclear war has receded following the dismemberment of the USSR. There is no more Rusian threat to the West, is there?
Well think again near sighted ones, for there does exist a danger so grave, so injurious to my wellbeing that could only be from the days of Brezhnev or Kruschev.
Really? Has Vladimir Putin suddenly lost his country's presidential election and refusing to give up power sparked an armed revolt in St Petersburg, thus ensuring the Russian army in turn revolts and joins with unarmed protesters, plunging Russia into turmoil, leaving China to invade and stabilise the country whilst the West nervously awaits an armed conflict?
Has perhaps a revolt in a Middle Eastern hardline state been ruthlessly crushed by its own army, leaving thousands dead and the world in horror, leading to a UN security council resolution which is vetoed by Russia and China, causing revulsion across the globe, and in turn causes a civil war which engulfs the region and leaves Israel and Iran twitching their nuclear trigger fingers?
No that would indeed be silly.
Whereas this isn't..........no, no really it's not dear readers.........
Yes, Gorbachev, the ex president of the Soviet Union!
His actions have caused my defences to go to Defcom 4.
(not the world statesman, but my cute as caviar kitten companion)
.
Allow me to explain exalted ones, his latest escapade that has my renal doctors and I having a fallout.
Being a mere kitten he is still playful and loves nothing better than rolling over and playbiting my hands. Now his teeth are somewhat sharp, indeed I can sometimes be heard Yeltsin out loud with mock pain. Alas this unprovoked attacked has unleashed a strategic response from my reduced immune system (blah blah blah, rejection drugs), resulting in multiple impact sites. Observe....
The other hand too is contaminated by this affliction, but was unavailable for the photography session above. Honestly sometimes the left hand doesnsnt know what the right hand is doing). I have tried Putin on antiseptic, balms and tinctures, but it is a slow process with the reduced immunity.
So the consultants have instructed yours truly to avoid kitten playbiting, as the resultant scratches can get infected. This could develop into a serious infection which could literally make my Andropov.
Of course trying to explain that to a boisterous kitten is no easy task. He is not used to being admonished, but slowly like a thawing stream in the Siberian spring, we have achieved detente.
I just have to learn not to Rage Hard, and just Relax......(extended 12 inch dance remix of course!)
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