I love them, but in a way they cause strange feelings of nostalgic loss. We were so damned convinced in the eighties that we'd go up on brilliant fireballs and the survivors would be forced to battle mutants with chainsaws and ballistae made from human skulls packed with gunpowder. I feel so let down.
my dads told me stories about how when he was my age, everyone had pretty much accepted that the world would end as a result of nuclear war between the US and USSR. Interesting.