While I was growing up The Bomb hung over our heads like the Sword of Damocles. Or like that Pendulum in a story by Poe (it’s still hanging over us, but by now we’re used to it). And Khrushchev said that he’d bury us, but I know he meant it affectionately. It was a cheerful time for parents to raise little kids.
And if those metaphors weren’t enough, we had Tom Lehrer to make up some more:
Oh we will all fry together when we fry.
We’ll be french fried potatoes by and by.
There will be no more misery
When the world is our rotisserie,
Yes, we will all fry together when we fry.
This post, of course, is to cheer us on through The End on Saturday the 21st. If you missed out on Tom Lehrer in the ‘Sixties, you still have a few hours left.