You'll be hearing a lot this summer about how Britain is heading back to the 1970s. That decade is all the rage as we swelter like it’s 1976 and memories are dredged up of a boiling summer when kids drove Chopper bikes across dried-up rivers and adults with crimson arms and blistered necks queued to get water from standpipes.
Also, as Andy Burnham moves closer to Downing Street, doom-mongering Thatcherites are delivering siren warnings about him planning to drag us back to the Satanic Seventies with its three-day weeks, unburied corpses, and your dad using homing pigeons to let your mum know he was on his way home as it took six months to get a phone installed.
In other words, the political climate, like the real one, is putting us on a burning road to 70s’ hell. Even though with music from Bowie and The Clash, epic films like The Godfather and Taxi Driver, and having to only pay 50p to watch football mavericks play the game for love not money, I found the 70s heavenly.
BRIAN READE: 'Trump's World Cup is like Hitler's Olympics - we have a major lesson to learn' by Brian Reade
Far-right politics
