In a Nuclear Family Way
September 3, 2017
Last night, while the Donald was busy using Harvey as a political prop and hammering the media for not cooperating, North Korean leader Kim Jong-un set off another nuclear device. This latest play for attention by the despot (the Korean, not the American) was five to six times larger than the test blast he featured last September. Great.
North Korea claims the device was a hydrogen bomb which is far worse than the atom bomb they tested last year. American analysts have expressed skepticism about that claim, but, frankly, the exact technical nature of the device seems irrelevant to those of us who stand target to the ongoing madness.
Trump reacted on Twitter by calling NK a rogue nation and shaming China.
Good fucking grief, he responded to a nuclear threat on FUCKING Twitter – not through diplomatic channels, not through the State Department or through an embassy, but on god-damned Twitter!
Then again, the Donald has let diplomatic staff numbers dwindle to record lows, appointed a CEO with no actual diplomatic experience as Secretary of State and hasn’t bothered to appoint a South Korean ambassador. So perhaps, Twitter is his most viable option. Great, again.
So now, we’re conducting international diplomatic communication about nuclear proliferation over the mass-com device people use to follow Kardashian fashion blunders and actress alcoholism. Quite the step forward in modern communication.
Back a million years ago, when I attended grade-school, we practiced bomb alerts. A siren would blare, we’d stop whatever we were doing and hide under our desks until the all-clear siren sounded. It was an exercise in futility since grade school desks (even the desks in the nicer private schools) offered no protection from a nuclear blast. No, the practice was about theater, the government acting as if it were doing something. And even as children we knew it.
Growing up knowing it all could be ended by men we didn’t know for reasons we couldn’t understand, of course, seriously affected my generation. It shaped our attitudes – made us a lot crazier than the previous, Greatest, generation. But, we got lucky and managed to avoid terminal conflict. And over time the number of death devices was reduced as was the risk. Hence, following generations didn’t find the prospect of nuclear war quite so overwhelming. On that front, things got better.
But now with Trump on the button and claiming we’ve upgraded nuclear capability since he was elected two-hundred-ninety-nine days ago (which is bullshit), we again find ourselves facing that dark ugly potential.
Back during the first nuclear threat many responded by dropping LSD and dancing naked in the streets – if this was the end, why the fuck not.
Unfortunately, now, some fifty years later, my body is not suitable for dancing bare assed nor resilient enough for chemical escape. Though, fleeing reality seems easy enough – just read @realDonaldTrump on fucking twitter.
The republic, the world, needs the Donald gone,
PS- Fuck it, I’m dancing naked right now!