The 1970s and 1980s were a time when I worried incessantly about a nuclear war wiping out the world. It took well into the 1990s for that gut-gnawing anxiety to leave my body.
Now, a mean little madman half a world away is perfectly willing to push the button because he wants to rule the world. Like a spurned lover who orchestrates a murder suicide rather than let his partner move on, the narcisisitic kleptocrat in charge in Moscow could take us all down with him if we won't let him get his own way.
This anxiety is physically painful. If we all go out, I hope it's quick.
