DON'T LET IT WORRY YOU

Press, 16 June 1979, Page 14

DON'T LET IT WORRY YOU

By

WHIM WHAM

A fatalistic Friend of mine Who seldom sees the brighter Side, Sees Nothing for this Country but A slow but steady backward Slide. What’s at the Bottom of the Slope? Who’s at the Top, to hold the Rope? Onward and Downward is the Way, While Hands relax and Spirits flag — What can the Budget do but squeeze The last Drop from an Oily Rag? And can We live upon the Smell’ Time (and the Treasury) will tell. I tell my fatalistic Friend. Cheer up! The Gloom is not unlit — Think of the Cuts in Broadcast News! Is This depressing? Not a Bit. Most News is bad. What’s wrong with Rock, Talk-ins and Telethons round the Clock? What’s wrong with slipping back, I say, A mere Half-century or More? Before the War — which One? you ask — The last One or the One before'.’ Primitive Times were Best, of course. Till those old Fools replaced the Horse. The Skylab hangs, about to fall. Onward and Downward, out of Space. Where will your gasless Car descend. Your chromed and lacquered Carapace? Ah, says my fatalistic Friend. After the Junk Age, what’s the End?