I am in a rambling mood this morning. Like some, I am still digesting the horror story that came out of Perris, California earlier this week. Although I occasionally opine on child protection matters, I am going to let this particular situation fester a bit more.
So, how about that US Government shutdown that is in the offing? One should not be entertained by the inability of one of the largest bureaucracies in the world to regularly fail to meet its most basic requirement. Funding.
And then there is the fake missile attack on Hawaii. That spurred me on to write a small flash fiction tale this week. Mostly made up, of course.
“I just got tired of all the talk, you know. I mean its been going on, ad nauseum, since the fifties. Before, even. We’ve always known they could do it, that someone was capable of making the decision and that there’d always be those willing to follow orders. And speaking about the fifties, duck and flippin’ cover. A whole generation of kids taught that all they had to do was hide under there desk when the bloody bomb went off and they’d be safe.”
“You finished, Gerry?”
“No. I got a list. Whatatheycallit, a laundry list…”
“Laundry list, my ass. You went way out of bounds on this one.
“I couldn’t help myself.”
“Seriously. What, some mysterious force grabbed your pinkie and you pressed down on the button? You‘re saying you had absolutely no control?”
“Oh, I had control. You shouldn’t be worried about that. But look around. That fruitcake in North Korea and the Orange menace in Washington, both comparing the size of their respective buttons. And here I was…with an actual button.“
“You weren’t concerned about the panic and the fear that would ensue when you sent out this…THIS…BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”
“I was thinking exactly about the response. We need to be ready. I figured, what better way to let our people know what might happen and what they might have to do?”
“Not up to you, Gerry. You crossed the line. Consider yourself reassigned.”
Perhaps not great literature but it sort of captured my mood this week. And allowed me to not dwell too much on the Perris, California story. That is one of the residual benefits of nuclear holocaust…all else pales.