Dr. Strangelove and Nuclear Bombs Away

DATELINE:  Kim Versus Trump

riding the a-bomb

Slim Pickens Rides the A-Bomb into Oblivion

With all the hubbub about North Korea turning its nuclear weapons upon US and using several dozen miniature bombs to hit the major cities, we thought it was time to reconsider Stanley Kubrick’s classic 1964 movie, Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.

Mr. Trump is hardly a dead-ringer for Peter Sellers who played the bald Adlai Stevenson-style president of the country, discussing nuclear destruction with his generals in the War Room.

There we find General George C. Scott fighting with the Russian ambassador, issuing the famous order: “Gentlemen, there will be no fighting in the War Room.”

With nuclear annihilation on the doorstep, back in those days, people knew how to deal with the thought of instant evaporation and annihilation in a mushroom cloud. Today friends from California are saying goodbye to loved ones on the East Coast.

We know that Donald Trump will never tell his generals not to fight in the War Room, and we can hear the placid, slightly sad tones of Vera Lynn as she sang the World War II favorite for fatalists:

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where, don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day.
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do,
‘Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.

So will you please say hello
To the folks that I know,
Tell them I won’t be long.
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singing this song

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when,
But I know we’ll meet again,
Some sunny day.

Writer(s): Parker Ross, Hughie Charles, Hugh Charles
Lyrics powered by http://www.musixmatch.com

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Belichick Under Siege: Jaws versus Dr. Strangelove

DATELINE:  Media Attack on Belichick!

media-attack

 

Bill Belichick may have come to the end of the line with the media.

Never one to share much information about his strategies or plans to replace injured players, he has gone completely ‘stonewall’ on the Jimmy G issue.

Even during Watergate, Nixon never had as much chutzpah as Belichick.

All the best attributes of Belichick have been put into the center of his universe after losing Jimmy G—and the wagons have been circled. If Custer had been as cognizant of the enemy, he would never have met his demise at Little Big Horn.

And, those press conferences with the Boston, New England, United States, world media, have now become an attack from 6 billion Indians who want his scalp.

General George Armstrong Belichick has lost his replacement QB—and media moguls are asking if he will bring back Tim Tebow (who once labored in Foxboro for few short weeks) to handle the one and a half games before the nuclear weapon of Tom Brady is released from its missile silo.

Someone should tell Belichick to stop worrying and learn how to love the bomb, or at least someone should have the courage to tell him to watch the hoary Kubrick movie, Dr. Strangelove. Belichick is starting to raise his arm too often in a habitual salute to his own sense of victory.

Like his pal Donald Trump, Belichick will never apologize for making the Patriots great. It’s easy to see that in Coach Belichick’s world, the loss of Jimmy G is tantamount to the Great White Shark in Jaws breaking one of his teeth.

Another new tooth will pop up from the row of teeth in waiting below the gum line.