“These are complex technical things, but they touch on the very basis of our morality. It is a grave danger for us that these decisions are taken on the basis of facts held secret.”
This was said on February 12th in 1950 by a man addressing the President of America's wife, Eleanor on her Sunday morning television broadcast.
This man with all the answers, knew best how to keep secrets. Top secret and under hat and he let those secrets bounce around in his radioactive being until the corrosion became more than the structure. Settling within him and festering around like a cloud, it seems he could come and go with omniscience. He was brilliant to all could not look at him directly in the eyes. Those that could take it knew he could have been brighter, more welcoming in the desolation of night, they were embedded in that sky under the same forces. So scared, some thought his yellow fingered trembling was evidence of this, that he need always clutch his own personal fire; via a wand or crutch, incessantly forcing his fingertip to take the flames off the cherries, he knew he was trying to make it numb. It was only a start, he never thought about the end before he lost where he was going and went instead with the wind and waves, swallowed and sunk safely away from the American Dream. off the Virgin Islands, he is perpetually pulled and pushed by waves of saints and martyrs. The legacy is nearly forgotten. Finally, there was none left awake to do the tactile work, like making bombs that would forever change the world. He holds his breath I fathom.
Photo credit By Federal government of the United States [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Trinity sight post test (Jumbo, July 1945).
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