and then came this

Comrades,

Things sensible have never been widely reported in the news, what with the Silly Season going well beyond its end date in Washington DC as furious arguments rage over which countries are shitholes, and which aren't.
So it was little wonder that only scant coverage emerged in the western press of South and North Korean excellencies & dignitaries sitting down to formal talks in a bit of old fashioned diplomacy over that timeless political football - sport.
Our course, the IOC has invited the North Korean Olympic Committee, their delegation and their team to the PyeongChang winter games in about three weeks time.
The IOC - which has never been political, oh no - will have anyone, now that they've pretty much lost their ability to elicit bribes.
They'll be in their element, as it's a top spot for snow sports at the mo' with the temps last week typically in the -9°C to +1°C range.
Unmatched top-shelf seven-star facilities, also.
I don't know about you, but I'll be going off-piste for the duration.
South Korea agreed to a North Korean request for their officially sanctioned cheer squads to be allowed to attend the games armed with thousands of little North Korean flags on sticks.
In the trade off, North Korea agreed there would be no hanky-panky or funny business during the games; no shooting rockets off or letting Big One's go, in the name of the mutually accepted idea of peace, even tho' they have never completely come around to it, given the truce is now 64 years old, and let's face it, it's all about face, and not losing it.
People have forgotten that the Korean peninsular remains the most heavily militarised spot on the planet.
Since the armistice, as a nod to peace and reconciliation, both countries have had Ministers for Reunification while maintaining huge standing armies of around 1.6M active personnel North/South combined, ready for battle tomorrow, along with something like nine million army reserves and paramilitaries to call on.
So the gates of the border ceremonially opened as impeccably suited gentlemen from each side arrived to meet to polite applause and handshakes all 'round for some chit-chat in that wild & wacky place known as the Korean DMZ.
PyeongChang is just 80km south of the 38th parallel or thereabouts, so the North's team buses won't have far to go, bringing with them trailer loads of crates of quality seafoods and gallons of top-notch Made in North Korea soju, to get them in the mood.
The South promises they will do all they can to prevent the North Koreans from defecting [there will be Choco Pies, aplenty], but asked in return that the North release some political prisoners.
Talks go on.
Backroom boys in smoke filled dens are still working on the idea of fielding a combined North/South Korean women's ice hockey team, because they know as separate entity's they haven't got a hope in snowflakes of medalling, but together could give the hockey comp a good shake.
Makes sense.
Of course this has very little to do with the Miracle of Democracy in a part of the world rife with rampant corruption and cronyism, but it says a fair bit about rapprochement.
You'll remember it took months of street protests in Seoul to evict from the Blue House the former President, Park Geun-hye, accused of being totally on the take by creaming about $US75M off the top of bribes paid by the chaebol in order to get on with the business of doing business.
Park is in the jailhouse now, and that resulted in the fait accompli election of Moon Jae-in as no-one else really put their hand up for the job.
Enough already has been said about Fat Boy Kim, the very personification of corruption and cronyism.
Then came this.
Have you ever regretted writing a very personal text message or e-mail, and then pushing the 'send' button, instantly knowing you have made a terrible mistake?
Like dropping that letter that you never meant to send in the postbox?
Ever called yr bosses a useless mob of utter wankers, or worse, and then sent them all the txt mssg by mistake?
There is no calling it back or sending it into a black hole, once you send it, it stays sent.
Have you ever got a together a txt mssg that says the Great State of Hawaii is about to go up in one helluvan exploding fireball at any minute and then sent it off to all one million mobile phone users, advising them to panic and run for the hills, or hide in a bomb shelter, or maybe a handy manhole, that you may or may not have, otherwise you are all going to burn in hell?
There is no heaven in this one:

To their credit, the good burghers of Honolulu, at least, didn't panic, they simply went to the beach in small groups with bottles of their finest whiskies and bourbons and sat under the gently swaying palms to watch the horizon for the incoming multi-kiloton Armageddon which sends the Hawaiian archipelago to the bottom as flaming wreckage.
Sort of brings new meaning to the old idea "if the ship is on fire, there is instinct to answer the call 'all hands to the pumps!' but honest desire remains to stay seated and at ease while awaiting your fate".
The Dept. of Deefense, Hawaiian authorities, or somebody or another who wasn't looking at the time, blamed "human error" for the clusterfuck.
Well, if some dumb intern in the Communications Dept. can fire off that one with a press of the green button marked 'send', then it doesn't really matter who's got the bigger Big Beautiful Nuclear Button on their desks, does it?
DJ Trump, early in his Presidency, delegated all matters military to his generals, so he's not the only one with the foreign policy numbers in the briefcase.
Like Trump, Fatboy is not a madman; they aint no nutjobs, they're just cruel and calculating in everything they do to advance and protect their own brands and interests.
Mr Moon has recently re-established the hotline with Pyŏngyang, and installed the big red telephone at the end of it on his desk.
He don't need no button.
North and South want the Trumpotus out of the Korean deal, but at the minute it seems some low ranking lieutenant wackjob in the US Air Force could push the no going back send button "human error"-style on a bunch of ballistic missiles, and it's good night nurse, in a megaton kind of way.
ICAN didn't win the 2017 Nobel Peace Prize for nuthin', you know.
Easily fixed.
No nukes.

[Graphic: Hanna Barczyk/NYT]