Freedom from The Fear of World War III 1991-2007

The peoples of Europe were today stocking up on tinned goods and shotguns, converting their brand new wine cellars back into fallout shelters and laughing mordantly at the contents of old "Protect and Survive" leaflets as they bewailed the sudden death of Freedom from The Fear of World War III, that astounding - yet disturbingly brief - epoch when it was possible for citizens across the Northern Hemisphere to go to bed at night without fearing that some trigger-happy idiot senior military official in Russia or the USA might mistake a flock of seagulls¹ for a missile attack and initiate a nuclear conflict.

Freedom from The Fear of World War III was the product of the long but stormy relationship between the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. From the USSR's birth in 1917 right up to the early 1940s the pair had eyed each other suspiciously across the global dance-floor, only kept apart by the fact most of it was occupied by a lot of ageing Europeans in silly uniforms dancing the Imperialist Frug with impressionable young African and Asian nations overwhelmed by the ageing Europeans' wealth, savoir-faire and tendency to slap around any young African or Asian nation that didn't want to put out on a first date. All this was to change in the mid-1930's with the rise of a new type of European in Germany, possessing all the anti-social tendencies of the old Europeans with the addition of a psychotic devotion to racial theories, a tendency to see the presence of other peoples in the world as a mere engineering problem and much, much snazzier uniforms.

The USSR had been initially attracted by the new Germany, with whom it shared such interests as watching lots of soldiers marching as if auditioning for Monty Python's "Ministry of Silly Walks" sketch and a real enthusiasm for pogroms, but ended the relationship in the early 1940s after Germany turned up drunk on several bottles of extra-proof Blitzkrieg and attempted to beat it up. Hurt - both physically and emotionally - by Germany's behaviour, the USSR turned for comfort to both the macho young USA and the once-debonair but now ageing United Kingdom, the three states indulging in a brief ménage-à-trois during which they cut up the dancefloor and, indeed, most of Europe.

The relationship could not last: as the USA and UK spent more and more of their time alone together, the USSR began to feel left out. Soon it was to quit the relationship altogether, preferring to hang around behind an iron curtain with like-minded (if they knew what was good for them) countries, winning their absolute loyalty by beating them up if they got out of line giving them generous gifts of aid and assistance when they needed help. Thus the Cold War was born and with it the global fear of a new World War.

For more than 40 years the USSR and the USA returned to eyeing each other across the global dance-floor, hanging around at its edges while buying drinks for all their pals and trying to impress the other nations by setting up puppet dictatorships in third world countries and amassing massive nuclear arsenals. Such displays were not without their costs, both for the superpowers themselves - who had to pay for enormous numbers of drinks, plentiful puppet dictatorships and vast nuclear arsenals - and for all the other countries, who had to pay the price of sucking up to their superpower friends and having their governments subverted or countries invaded by their "best mates" not to mention forking out billions on Valium to help their inhabitants cope with the fear of imminent nuclear destruction.

Eventually the costs were to prove too great for the USSR which - despite putting on a brave face - was down to its last rouble and had been living off a diet of boiled beetroot and state propaganda for years. Unable to afford even the tanks necessary to put down a popular uprising in a satellite state, in 1991 it fell apart. In doing so it gave birth to Freedom from The Fear of World War III.

For 16 years, Freedom from The Fear of World War III led a happy life - spreading peace dividends across the globe, freeing billions from the dread of another World War and forcing James Bond scriptwriters to try and come up with new baddies. During its life, the world (or at least that part of it which hadn't been right-royally ballsed up by all those ageing Europeans and their empires) enjoyed unprecedented growth and wealth as well as a lot of fun laughing at the antics of Boris Yeltsin. It was all the sadder, then, that Freedom from The Fear of World War III should be struck down in its prime, set upon by none other than those some-time lovers and some-time sparring partners, the USA and Russia as America - its military muscles inflated, its testosterone levels sent into overdrive and its brain shrunk by daily injections of Neocon steroids - insisted on deploying a nuclear defence shield on Russia's borders and Russia - having pumped up its own muscles on a regime of new-found oil and gas wealth, the smack (not to mention cattle-prod, enforced detention and nuclear-tipped salmon sushi) of firm government and a blithe disregard for democratic norms - threatened to kick sand in America's face by pointing missiles at the US's best buddies in the European Union. With detente getting wound up and TV producers blowing the dust off old videotapes of "Threads" and "When the Wind Blows", Freedom from The Fear of World War III passed away.

Freedom from The Fear of World War III will be buried at St Oppenheimer's Church of the Mutually Assured Destruction. The service will be conducted by the Reverend Dr Strangelove and the hymn will be number 462 "Come, sound His four-minute warning abroad".

¹ or any other early 80s synth-pop band.

Those Who Knew Them: Boris Yeltsin 1931-2007

As A Dodo presents a tribute to the former Russian leader from his close friend, former governor Yuri Oligarchavich Gargleov, a Kremlin barman who became one of the most powerful men in Russia by steering billions of roubles into his personal bank account state-owned company PotatCo into the post-Soviet free market economy and by owning most of Irkutsk.

Boris Nikolayevich Yeltsin is dead. I raise glass to memory of greatest man I ever meet. From moment he join Communist Party in 1961 he is party animal through and through. Wherever there is party - there is Boris!

In '85 I just humble barman at Kremlin when Boris stumble out of long Politburo meeting on Afghanistan shouting, "Stuff the Taliban! What are we drinking?!" I mix him Black Russian, White Russian... then he wash down lot with quart of my dear old mother's homemade potato vodka. After that we were insepa... inspa ... you could not keep us apart. It was like love. I love his political integrity, his tireless work for Mother Russia. He love my dear old mother's homemade potato vodka. Anyway, I now personal barman to Boris and nothing separate us.

I remember one night Boris turn to me. Beautiful Black Sea night full of stars and he turn to me with that face... What handsome man...! George Clooney is pig in comparison...! And he ask me would I like to head new Soviet department researching possibility of potato-based fuels...? Me! Humble barman...! Can you believe this...?! I say yes straight away - goodbye Lada, hello Zil!

Boris was busy man. Incredible stamina. Member of Politburo. Mayor of Moscow. But he always find time to drop into offices of PotatCo to sample study new potato-based fuels. No, really. Boris was martyr to cause. He think new potato-based fuel put Russian man as high up as Mars, or at least make him unstoppable karaoke champion on trade visit to Tokyo. What night and two days that was!

But then Boris, who love Russian country and people, grow impatient with Gorbachev - that bas... is not fit for print... Gorbachev's refuse to reform glorious Soviet Union. He make example of Boris. Boris ridiculed in press as unfit for office. But I know he is not drunkard. He come to me day he lose job as Mayor of Moscow and say, "Yuri Oligarchavich, if I am drunkard, hit me in face with shovel! If I am unfit, I crumble and fall to floor! Hit me again! Like man! Square in face with shovel! Again!" And is true. He take it like man. After that, he was unconscious unstoppable.

And then Berlin Wall fall after all-night discussions with Eric Honecker get out of hand. Boris lean against wall and... Oops! Goodbye Communism! But Gorbachev still drag feet - so Boris start to work round clock for freedom of beloved Russia and become president in 1991. And when hardliners imprison Gorbachev and launch coup against Russian people what did Boris do...? He no think of self or revenge against old blotchy head? No! He mount tank in front of parliament building. He always randy as state-owned goat after a few snifters! Little joke...! Seriously, after crushing bourgeois reactionaries Boris hero of Russian people and dissolve Soviet Union - which strange as he never add water to nothing.

Boris take on more and more work on behalf of Russia. He take whole responsibility of parliament, he say, "Thank you boys! You take easy! I do job for you!". He do everything as he drag country into new era of glorious market economy. And how did parliament repay? They refuse leave building! Is Boris's building! Boris he kind, he understanding. So he send in tanks to help re-educate political dinosaurs who not see sense in handing over vouchers for share of glorious state companies like PotatCo. So-called communists! Think only of selves! Lenin would turning in grave... if not in glass-topped sarcoph... sarpho... coffin.

No, Boris strong like bear! He never give up, not even when glorious people boiling shoes for food and selling kidneys for shelter. People say he bring nothing to Russia but crime and poverty. But this not true. He bring democracy! He bring tanks! He bring in billions of dollars from IMF. He bring me and all my friends big state-owned monopolies at knock-down price, not to mention governorship of... er, where was now, Yakutsk? Irkutsk? I know on Risk board somewhere.

But work for Russia is take toll on Boris. In dying hours of New Year's Eve 1999 he pause, put down bottle of imported Chivas Regal I give him as gift on expenses and confide in me it time to hand on baton of power to younger man who could continue great work. I agree immediately. Imagine surprise when Boris give power to that bas... is not fit for print... Vladimir Putin - who give him two bottles of imported Chivas Regal.

After that, I not see much of Boris. He busy in secure dacha, or conducting Berlin Philharmonic or Znaky's Jazz AllStars, and I always out of country on business or desperately selling assets and fleeing country to avoid being lock up in jail like Khodorkovsky.

Anyway, Boris dead. Raise glass or five to him and all pray he not being cremate.

As A Dodo note: Yuri Oligarchavich Gargleov currently lives in London, New York, Paris, Milan, and Hawaii, while his heart is officially resident in the Cayman Islands for tax reasons. Russian officials wishing to visit him should note that he hates sushi.

Enemies of the Russian State: Various Dates-2006

We at As A Dodo are grateful to our Russian Correspondent (appointed only this weekend, after entering our offices bearing a sinister smile, and a large tin of thallium) for the following obituary, which we typed at sushi-point this morning.

Following the tragic and wholly accidental thallium poisoning of former KGB colonel and present critic of President Putin, Alexander Litvinenko, Enemies of the Russian State are advised that they have now been officially reclassified by the Federal'naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti Rossiyskoi Federatsii (FSB) as dead, and are requested to make the necessary arrangements for their funerals, which will be held on dates to be specified by the shadowy figures they may have noticed loitering near their houses or observing them from behind copies of Pravda over the past few weeks.

Born on various dates, Enemies of the Russian State have a long and ignoble history. In their time they have committed innumerable crimes, among them criticising the Russian state, hinting that bribery and corruption may be a way of life in modern Russia, failing to pay the proper bribes to corrupt Russian officials, being journalists, inquiring too deeply into the actions of the glorious Russian government after being gently advised at Kalashnikov-point that such actions were unwise and looking at President Putin without the officially approved expression of deep love and awe upon their faces.

Since carrying out these heinous acts Enemies of the Russian State have been declared dead, despite carrying out such life-associated activities as breathing, walking about, talking to their friends and such like. FSB doctors advise that, should these people fail to take vital remedial action - such as acknowledging that President Putin is the surpassing genius of his age whose word is as that of God and whose followers can do no wrong - it is highly likely that their deaths will be confirmed in the following months by accidentally falling off high buildings, throwing themselves in front of speeding vehicles, stabbing themselves with ricin-tipped umbrellas or chopping their own heads off after beating themselves to a pulp.

Enemies of the Russian State will be buried secretly deep in the woods after having their teeth and hands removed to avoid identification. They will not be mourned by anyone living who wishes to remain in that state.