The Falklands are back in the news. As I pedalled furiously on my bike in the gym last night, it flashed across the bottom of the BBC news – ‘Falklands Tension’ – and I thought ‘now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time’. Not since the Eighties, actually.
It seems like we’ve done the Time Warp. Not only are we in recession, we are all wearing leg warmers, watching re-runs of Fame and now we even seem to be embracing nostalgia wars.
I am starting to wonder if we woke up from a dream and found ourselves in someone else’s reality; one that we don’t recognise because we’ve lived our whole lives in a dream bubble. But now its ours too, and we feel cheated. The way you feel when the alarm goes off at 7am when you’re just about to kiss the prince. Our alarm has rung and with it we have been plunged back into depression, recession and – most harrowing of all – bad fashion.
The Falklands is just another in a series of re-visited Eighties problems, along with Thatcher. I’m starting to wonder if someone will offer to re-build the Berlin Wall, just so we can tear it down in a few years and declare a wonderful new era to have begun.
Unlikely though, we probably don’t have the money.