Ruthie has emerged, blinking, from the metaphorical dark cupboard in which she has been analyzing statutes for the past couple of weeks, to discover that it’s 1982 all over again.
The KGB are, allegedly, poisoning dissident spies, a serial killer is on the loose murdering prostitutes and Come Dancing is on the telly. All of which is accompanied by prurient public fascination and the usual hand wringing about the legalisation of prostitution by the kind of hypocrites who patronise them. Ruthie would encourage anyone who thinks prostitution is easy money to try it for a day.
I believe it was the Bible (Ecclesiasties) that says there is nothing new under the sun. So is life now on a twenty year loop?
And James Bond is on at the cinema. Is Ruthie the only person in the universe who wonders why someone who wanted rid of Alexander Litvineko that badly didn’t simply shoot him? Or would that have been just too easy? Perhaps the next dissident spy will be strapped to a piece of wood moving through a large circular saw…
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