Blast Shadows
Them good old Armageddon Blues are back!
Thanks to Putin (and a little help from poor Joe) the mutual annihilation lifestyle is back. Soon concerned Punks will be installing bomb shelters in their back yards. Kids will be drilled at school (ducking under your desk, etc.), radiation pills will be available at Walgreens. What else? I frankly don’t remember all the doomsday buy-it-before-it’s-too-late shit. Except the movies were pretty good…”Fail Safe” “On The Beach” “The Bedford Incident” and especially “Doctor Strangelove.” Strangelove is in a league of it’s own. But the others are not bad at all. Fail Safe had Henry Fonda, who’s always great, and Walter Matthau, the champion scene stealer, but On The Beach had Ava Gardner, the most beautiful old time movie star.
Well, aside from good movies, is there anything good about this retreaded doomsday zeitgeist to talk about? Not really. All of us mid and senior Boomers remember the first round. I mean, I don’t remember so much the details (I grew up mainly in the sixties with all the Viet Nam Bullshit dominating the conversations) but I do remember the Cold War and the constant talk of “what might happen if” and the feeling of being a bug about to be swatted.
And what was the deal with the Bomb Shelters?
I mean, what are you gonna do in the bomb shelter after a few weeks? How much white rice and games of solitaire can you tolerate before you hang yourself. (Is there a rafter in the bomb shelter to hang yourself from?) come on!
Better to go out with the blast.
Become a shadow of your former self.
I’m already a shadow of my former self. I don’t need the graphics. I’d prefer dying in bed, surrounded by people I sort of like and will not miss too much. I’m talking relaxed. No stress. Just lying there. Smiling. Nodding. Zonked out on pain killers. Waiting for the gentle light to appear. Then rising up out of my old beat up self and moving toward that light. Strolling towards that light. Gravitating my feet toward that heavenly light. Definitely NOT vaporized with nothing left but a shadow on a concrete alley wall. How do you get to the Great Beyond once you’re vaporized? Once you’re a Shredded Soul?
Okay, that’s real tough, but what I’m trying to say, even a blast shadow would be preferable to spending the rest of your miserable life in a bomb shelter with very bad plumbing…you see what I’m say’n?
This is the Armageddon blues.
That’s right Boomers. We’re back where we started.
2 thoughts on “Blast Shadows”
What’s wrong with you?
I’m gloomy