This is a bit of an odd one, because today you're sitting in
a public dump in New Jersey underneath a massive heap of industrial waste,
including several pressure press devices and a few Electroluxes. You'll be doing what you do, which is most
irradiating things in the immediate area around you. It'll be a pretty normal day for you, as you
wait for the fate that all spent uranium rods are promised (to be unified with
the one true atom at the center of the universe upon the final day of your
radiological decay).
Meanwhile, in a hospital a few thousand miles away, in
Branson, Missouri, a man, a very bright, very angry man, will be cursing his
fate as he slowly dies of cancer. This
man will have handled you when you were young and he was young and the two of
you worked together in a nuclear power plant somewhere in the middle of the
country. This was long before the man
began dreaming of fantastic acts of violence committed on a scale heretofore
inconceivable, this was long before the man began constructing a series of
apparatuses that would permit him to realize this violence. This was long before that young man became
just a man and, in so becoming, was diagnosed with various kith and kin of
cancer throughout his body, but your hand in events, all the same, occurred on
some day, long ago, when the two of you met in passing at work
Today that angry man is going to die alone in a hospital in
Branson, Missouri. With him will die all
his dreams of violence on a massive scale.
With him will die his fantasy of mass extinction carried out with a wave
of his hand, of a new world order, lead by reigns clutched in his iron fist, a
world order where peace would reign, a peace of death, of misery, of
hatred. This tiny rage filled world of
his imagining, this burned out fantasy husk, will come to rest within his
mind. Instead, a blankness will present
itself where the thought of this world used to be: that massive, effervescent
hate will be gone, erased by your tender radiance.
Nice work, spent uranium rod. You did alright. Today, give expelling harmful radiation a
rest and just have some quality "you" time with that other industrial
waste!
Congratulations Spent Uranium Rod!
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