Let’s face it. We do not value human tissue and its continuance on this planet.
During the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, school children practiced duck-and-cover drills, useless against gamma rays from an atomic explosion. For those 10 days in October, the superpowers and their proxies played a form of 3-D chess, contemplating moves, counter-moves, acceptable and estimated levels of extinction.
Thankfully, the crisis evaporated. Not quite sane enough, we held on to the unholy trinity of ABC weapons: atomic, biological and chemical. Then as now, the ABCs await a situation. It is impossible to disinvent a weapon.
What will be our legacy to future generations?
For 70 years and counting, the protection/destruction issue has been on the table for intelligent resolution. The result of indecision has been a proliferation of ABCs.
Hopefully, future generations will give tacit approval for their own continuance and expunge our generation’s Armageddon goals forever.
The following is a poem called “WMDs.” It depicts our human stupidity without a noticeable increase in wisdom or immunity from folly.
WMDs
Overhead titanium-winged pterodactyls soar,
Their bellies filled with necrolites.
On mountainsides
Lazarus stones slide open
To admit necrostelhs.
In queue their eyes,
hand, voice and embedded
Chips verified.
Once inside,
These acolytes’ reverence
The multi-eyed computers.
Illumined labyrinths
Reveal columns of binary shells
Readied for flight.
Beneath the seas,
Silent, sullen submersibles snuggle
Near Neptune’s floor.
Their cargo omega lights
Positioned projectiles readied
To unlock
Eternity’s door.
We, the not sane enough,
Gave tacit approval
of WMDs.
