Requiem For The Cold War
January, 1994
My own work was finished, a book six years in the making finally done, and I slipped back from the present into incomplete images and unresolved memories of the past. It was in a way a special voyage of my own, made without leaving my apartment, a trip with its own melancholia. A new president had just been inaugurated, and members of the media, caught up in their apparent need to give instant report cards, were filled with endless details cataloging his successes and failures, even when nothing...
