Thank you for the nostalgia.
Thanks to the electorate of the United Kingdom devaluing the Pound to 1985 levels, I am in the throes of nostalgic spasms.
Join me, if you will, in a celebration of a time gone by - a more innocent time.
Lewis Hamilton hadn’t driven a car yet, he’d just been born. Thankfully the Sinclair C5 flopped before he had a chance to drive one.
Roger Moore was, arguably, the worst James Bond, certainly the campest one with the shittest puns - but such was the age.
Bob Geldof and his chum Midge Ure (remember him? No, neither does anyone else) organised LiveAid.
Windows 1.0 was launched.
Madonna was still “like a virgin”.
To put it lyrically - and with a Spotify Playlist to boot…
I Can’t Fight This Feeling of despondency, Brexit’s One Vision now means that The Heat is on for all of us. It’s depressing to think that just because Everybody Wants to Rule the World our neighbours and friends in Europe can’t feel The Power of Love and are no longer Walking on Sunshine.
The Neverending Story is over, and while the result makes me want to Shout in utter frustration, we have the likes of Farage, Boris, Gove, Rees Mogg et al and their Take on Me attitude which will make people of the future ask how could they Dare to be Stupid. They’re definitely not role models for a progressive socially responsible world leading state, but equally We Don’t Need Another Hero while the rest of the world asks I Want to Know What Love is.
So, dear Europe, I Feel for You, I hope that we can mend these Broken Wings so that we may, in future, claim that We Built This City with All You Zombies, Back in Time.
With that said, I am from Scotland and This is England, or rather it was, with the exception of London, pretty much. Sorry Europe, I hope I’m back in you soon, once I can afford it again. I love you.
With thanks for the endless patience of my muse.
