As it turns out the month of October is a rather extraordinary one in terms of month long holidays. These holidays are all very special because they celebrate the concept of awareness. Autism,brain tumors,breast cancer,domestic violence,dwarfism,cyber security awareness and LGBT history are just several examples of October's month long holidays so it seems. When I first contemplating this next post it was with the intention of addressing each of these demonstrated concepts privately. After some soul searching and my personal passion for art it became apparent that another approach would be more fitting.
One sculpture that fascinates me was by the 1920's Romanian futurist sculpture Constanin Brancusi called Bird In Space-which you'll see above you here. His static image has likely inspired many great works of literary and visual art-due in part to the idea behind it. The sculpture itself was a fine example of representational art. That's because Brancusi didn't sculpt a bird. He sculpted the nature of a bird by interpreting flight. As an futuristically inclined artist myself that concept interested me a great deal. So when thinking of the nature of all of the levels of awareness people are asked to deal with this month it became clear that all of them in fact have a singular nature. And that is going to be the subject of this article: one persons viewpoint on the present nature of human beings around them.
In recent weeks there have been long periods of the day where it seems that my body,heart and mind are carrying the metaphoric equivalent of a life sized lead sphere-something so heavy and prone to lose control if ever let lose. At first it seemed like accumulated personal stress. After this same feeling has continued on it's become apparent it goes quite a bit deeper than that. Personally it has to do with the idea of paradox. One of the ways I've been able to maintain a courageous and meaningful presence in life is by the means of eliminating unneeded paradoxes. 2013 has been a very interesting time. Same sex relationships are at last becoming seen as totally natural. Democracy is showing signs of developing further over even local tyrannies. And many people are at last psychologically looking to turn from war to peace.
This leads to the first paradox within these changes. Something one can notice in their daily life,should they fully open their eyes,is how uncertain and frustrated people have become. Society might be changing for the better. But at the same time that reflects very differently depending on the type of community one lives in. Selfish as it may seem to continually draw mainly from their own experiences,that is all I can effectively do in this regard. Its actually at the heart of this end of the matter,in fact. But today I often find myself keeping extremely late hours talking online to friends on the West Coast of America. While I won't speak for all of them,it seems that these social situations produce less needless paradox. And interpersonal conflicts are resolved more productively.
Of course there's the challenge of democracy itself: everyone has to have a say. Even if that say represents a destructive effect on everyone else. The sad truth is that often these destructive elements in a democracy have the more powerful voices,not to mention more powerful influences. In the end that creates a feeling of great cynicism and lack of interest in people willing to make changes to better themselves and each other. In a nutshell that results in cancer patients not having a cure for their illness,autism still not being fully understood,once loving couples often physically hurting one or the other and even whole groups of people living under a shield of un-addressed invisibility.
When the rights of any grown human being to love each other and the dawn of peaceful diplomacy with once warring nations are co-existing next to Government shutdowns and continuing gun and racial violence,it can be a very challenging process to see the glass of life as half full,let alone containing anything at all. It sometimes seems like a room filled with people shouting over each other-those not being heard and those not wanting to hear getting nowhere. An LGBT person,someone with Autism,cancer or experiencing domestic violence all have something to say to a society that so often gives lip service to their lot in life. We may have ears to hear and a mouth to speak. But will be lift even a finger to as much as type out a simple article online to emphasize this? In the end,its up to us to not only be aware but be aware of the sometimes conflicting natures of us all.
It needed to happen when it did. In June of last year,this art installation of over 800 empty classroom desks were placed on the lawn of the nations capital to symbolize the drop out rate in America's public schools. Personally? Its an idea I wish I'd followed through on because as with many American's,its crossed my mind on more than one occasion to do something of this sort. Despite what some people might think,I really am a very positive person. That being said even the most positive of people can still be haunted by ghosts of their past. What is about to be said is not a ranting,angry tirade about modern public education. So many people in so many places are already aware of the politics of that. And the difference between ignorance and apathy is implied,not necessarily literal,in this case either. Its about the reasons that I myself came extremely close to dropping out of school.
Before going into this it's important to reinforce: this blog is often self oriented and is an adult (if not profane) topic. Many of the blog posts I've done are sprinkled with references to troubles in school with the local Board Of Education and some of the most severe forms of bullying. Now the time may be ideal to tell this story to hopefully inspire others to bravery of their character and to do so to others as well. To start with,from the day I entered kindergarten,
something about the atmosphere of everything didn't seem right. While it was exciting to meet other people in my age group,none of them were truly relatable to me. Even from that age it seemed I'd unwittingly entered a world where apathy,a word I didn't even know at that time,was the accepted way to think. Teachers and students seemed to be going through the motions of everything. Often I was inwardly sad about this.
As time went on there were moments of sometimes extreme happiness. Though I noticed many of them happened off the school grounds. When people are in preadolescence, they are likely no more aware than I was about the actual sociopolitical complexities of what happens around them with cliques and such. And I kept being told this was a normal part of growing up. Heard it all from "toughen up" to "kids can be cruel". No matter how often this viewpoint was reinforced,it somehow seemed less and less reasonable each time it occurred. One thing I remember during my 4th and 5th grade year in particular was me diving headlong into what many described as a fantasy world. It included cartoon characters and people-some fictional. I started having dreams about them. In these dreams and fantasy's,there were friends and adults to handled life events well,cooperated and understood about life.
Typical of how many would react to such behavior,many people seemed to assume I was developing a mental disorder. They did everything from coaxing to outright counseling to try to discourage this emphasis on fantasy and enforce the need to deal with reality. What they didn't know then was that to me that fantasy world felt like it was torn and ripped away from me,as if it'd been a second skin. It actually hurt on many levels. I dislike reality around me. And couldn't seem to genuinely change it for the better. Even though there was a world of literature and music that was encouraged,it was out of step with reality again. And now I knew what people called it-being a geek. It does seem unthinkable to see myself that way today-compared literally to a circus sideshow whose act might include sticking rusty nails into their nostrils.
By the summer of 1992 it was almost time for junior high. A member of my family painted a freeing picture of an intellectually stimulating world with a broader social climate that bought my fantasy world of before into reality. It was a beautiful idea. Still is. Yet the moment I arrived I stepped onto the grounds of Garland Street Middle School in September of 1992,it was a shock to my system that even today effects my life. Day after day passed seeing a vision of entropy before my eyes. Young people my own age wandering about-proudly flaunting every manner of dysfunctional pop culture before my eyes-from alternative rock to sports bar culture far beyond their understanding,let alone mine. Minor bullying led to the more severe variety-being beaten physically and one occasion being called a heretic-over a pair of faded jeans.
I remember not so vitally the pain I was experiencing,but watching my own family fight tirelessly against the bullying of my supposed peers and the racial bigotry of the school's administration. I felt the need for their help so badly as I was doing horribly in my studies,lacked any particular ambitions besides retreating into a new fantasy world of artistic ventures and tended to talk to my family for hours every day. Now I felt as if I was about to break down and lose it. This wasn't being a kid. This was growing up faster than anyone needs to. Finally I told my mother at least that I couldn't take it and wanted to drop out of school. She knew I wanted an education badly,and she was dead on right. But could no longer bare public school without basically losing my grip on reality.
Than a miracle occurred. We discovered this idea of homeschooling. We'd have to report to a certified teacher yearly. And some segments of society came down on me in particular that I'd lose out on the social aspect of public school. Personally seeing how everything has turned out since that time? With peers like that as friends,who needed enemies? There were kinder people out there,and now I could choose them. And in truth my studies and grades improved immeasurably during my homeschooling. Admittedly the events in my final year of public school had drained away much of my ambition. On the other hand,my interest in creative ventures bought many acquaintances in and out of my life who encouraged me in pursuing those visions I had in a productive and healthy way.
Anyway,that's the story of what happened to me. Adult life of course has presented,and continues to present,both challenges and many barriers that are flat out hard to overcome. People close to me today are often puzzled and even roll their eyes at the notion that two decades later I could still be so deeply effected by...those final four months of 1992 that forever changed my life.
Its even been recently suggested that I myself am a negative person in much the same manner as that 1990's generation of people who once tormented and criticized people like me. My answer to that is that I always play a balancing act between the realism of the world and my own instincts in being a dreamer. Adding to that conundrum is that by definition dreamers are almost always discouraged and disappointed by the realities of even their own existence.
To paraphrase the rather philosophical vocal legend Chaka Khan from her own autobiography I'm often forced to ask myself a similar question as she did when she felt let down by life in different ways: what are you contributing? Its a worthwhile question to ask oneself now and then. You can walk around with a dirty look on your face,feeling ashamed because you have so many good ideas locked inside of you. Or you can choose those have to feelings and still do what you have to do anyway-because its the right thing. These are noble words that are not as easy as one might think to say. And all the same they are even more challenging words to live by. Today I wonder one thing above all: were some of those children whom those empty desks on the Capital lawn represent people much like me who perhaps weren't given the same option and advantage I was? Does that make homeschooler's privileged and pampered somehow?
From the few other people who took another road same as I did,one of the few things I feel completely happy (and lighter) about was saying so long to the public school system. At the same time I include myself among the group of people who,deep down,am hoping that the situations that make public school so negativism that children fell the need to drop out of it will change drastically in my own lifetime. Today the world needs peace,love and understanding more than ever. And exclusionist social cliques,bigotry and bullying doesn't provide the proper education for young people in public school to begin to achieve that goal. Personally I think the world has quite enough hardened,career minded people out of touch with their heart,mind and soul. No church,mosque,temple or synagogue provide instant answers either. Sometimes,to educate ourselves the best way not to be a dropout from society is just being yourself. Even if you cannot easily put it under the heading of a label. Easier said that done? Well,it can be done-truly.
For myriad reasons a feeling of growing melancholia takes a hold of my emotional well-being during this particularly time of year. Used to think that it had to do with the climactic change of seasons. To perhaps overextend a metaphor, that is in the neighborhood but not quite at the front door of the matter. The point begins during Labor Day Weekend roughly and extends through mid September. I will be in public shopping and either on a radio commercial or through somebody at the cash register there will inevitably mention of summer being over.
Sometimes its not as clear as it once was that most people realize the beginning of the autumnal equinox actually falls on September 21'st-three weeks after the Labor Day holiday weekend. The easiest answer to this would be that the concept of summer being over in the beginning of September is entirely corporate. Most schools are back in session and there seems to be enormous pressure for stores to begin stocking Halloween items to take advantage of holiday sales. These are easily observable to any American-regardless of the boundaries between states. Yet its far from the be all and end all of the story.
The photograph you see above you was taken less than half a day ago. Through the cameras eyes this is not dissimilar to a photo taken in the same place and location in May,June,July and August. Foliage changes have not emerged to an even adequate degree and the feeling in the air is definitely in the mode of summer. Personally I've grown to loath the almost celebratory tone with which people around me seem to greet the end of the summer season. Summer in the state of Maine is an extremely special time for me. And seems to be for many of those same people who so quickly make mention of the conclusion of the season.
One reason for my discontent with such attitudes is that the area of the state I have always lived in has very intense (and often frightening) seasonal contrasts. Someone such as myself feels as a squirrel to a hollow log most of the summer-hiding acorns away for the coming harshness of winter-again metaphorically of course. Another is the more obvious issue of mobility. Barring accident,no weather conditions in the state of Maine would ever cause the cancellation of people's jobs or special events in the summer months the same way..say a 'Nor Easter would. So why in an area oriented around summer tourism and the seasonal mobility of person would there be such an enormous and temporary embrace of a transitional season to a time of year that creates little but physical hardship for its residence?
There is a saying used heavily by the antiwar and counter-cultural movements of the late 1960's: the personal is political. At least where I live,a very analytical person such as myself probably draws a similarly sociopolitical take on such unusual reactions to seasonal changes. Perhaps people want to find ways to make themselves unhappy. That they've forgotten how to find joy in the embrace of a green oak tree of the petals of a flower in the modern working world. Since winter in what essentially amounts to a Tundra climate would obviously create more physical labor for a person,could be that hoping for such conditions is a sign of merely individual aspirations aimed too low. At any rate,while summer is still with us these are questions worth people pondering.
Today is an event that only occurs once,or rarely twice,each year. Friday the 13th. An entire series of motion pictures have been named for this day. Its become synonymous across the nation,and many areas of the world, with superstition. One can slice this bread of verbiage however they please. Yet in the end superstition qualifies as one of many words for fear itself. On this particular combination of number and day on the calender its advised by many not to carry an umbrella,walk under ladders,step on cracks and of course allowing a black cat to cross your path. The proceeding week has also been National Autism and Special Education week. Strangely enough,there is an often unseen link between this two subject matters.
From my own personal research it seems the origins of this Friday the 13th superstition is based on 19th century Christian mythology having to do with the twelve apostles of Jesus Christ. On the surface it might seem like the stereotypical "fear of god" ethic. Under the surface is perhaps a linkage to something I experienced last night as I was creating my latest painting. I was listening to a song by a band named Mutiny,for those not in the know a spin-off of George Clinton's P-Funk musical collective,called "Thee Funky Prez". Musically I liked what I heard of it. Suddenly this very intrusive rapper came into the song out of nowhere. I've heard this before and never been bothered. On this night I saw ghosts-flashed before my eyes and mind as an intense barrage of thoughts and memories.
What I saw in this dizzying mental flashback was much like someone changing the channels of a TV too fast. News about race riots in LA,the deaths of Kurt Cobain,Tupac Shakur and Biggie Smalls,the child abuse charges against Michael Jackson-someone known before hand mainly as an extremely charitable man with an all encompassing passion for children's rights. There were thoughts of ghoulish people in white makeup-maybe latch key kids discouraged with life and developing an obsession with death. These were all events I remember witnessing and living through in reality during the mid/early 1990's. A very strange type of generational post traumatic stress.
For a few seconds I could feel the pure,unadulterated fear of someone who was convinced they'd seen an actual ghost. It was like being kicked in the head not by anxiety,but a sudden pacification bought on by fright. Of not being able to confront what I saw. I turned off the music,spoke to a kind friend on Facebook and the feeling faded. I began to have a realization this morning. The world in which we live is facing much change for the better. A change towards celebrating diversity of self for its own sake. A change towards embracing life rather than death,understanding rather than killing.
Yet faced with the very embodiment of humanity's greatest desires for peace and harmony,many are retreating backward towards unusable older modes of thinking-reacting to the positive new changes seemingly as I did to hearing that song. So not only do I not understand the nature of my own fears. But have equally little understanding of why so many people would be afraid of something unquestionably good? Perhaps it goes back to the fears I had of seeing people during my adolescence put such strong emphasis on exploring mainly the darker aspect of their psyche: superstition and death as a lifestyle choice.
Another thought occurred to me regarding this total embrace and almost passion for fear. When I was growing up I was very mistakenly placed into a special education class for behaviorally challenged children-mainly because I had trouble making friends. No braggadocio intended but it never bothered me too much that I was more imaginative and intellectual than anyone else in that class. What was bothersome was a couple of the students extreme behavioral reactions to their inability to accomplish their school work. One student would scream,back into the corner and hurl heavy objects at anyone who approached.
Two things would happen in such cases: either the teacher would call an "emergency recess" similar to that of a court proceeding or I would personally employ the old cold war duck and cover method to keep physically safe from this school room assault. Without a doubt this was fear uncut on all sides. Fear on the part of the protagonist for his perceived lack of ability,as well as his fear of being called on it. It was the other students fear of his reaction. And it was fear of the teachers and principle of not being able to do a great deal to handle the situation. Discipline would have no effect,neither would the PTA. Pure adrenaline rushes on the part of a troubled preteen student proved to be totally beyond reasoning.
That represents the linkage of fear of a changing world so many desire and the challenges of helping developing young minds in special education to handle a social climate that all these years later still seems to have all odds against them. Though stated in a broader context the great American composer Duke Ellington,during his acceptance of a special lifetime achievement award from then President Nixon,spoke of "freedom from fear"-both within and without Ellington's own context an enormously profound statement. People who place value in the wrong things know what about themselves. Yet they keep doing whatever it is that troubles them.
People would rather move to a new location,change their job or even leave behind their friends and loved ones than to change those aspects within themselves that are the real source of their concerns. At times when they cannot place themselves in their group and changes seem to come so thick and fast,such people often become extremely suggestible. Even in cases where a sociopolitically powerful figure offers positive and long term change. They will tend to seek out those who are more like shifty social engineers who can offer instant satisfaction,instant answers and all things in the short term. Someone who prescribes an instant cure for their emotional ills. Someone to tell them what is wrong and what can be done to right it. A snake oil salesmen for the soul.
And as for the one presenting positive long term change? Well,especially if they look or sound unfamiliar they'll be almost completely rejected. So it all feeds on itself. The embrace of religious and political systems that encourage people to live in fear,the rejection by many of positive figures such as President Obama. We may all want that "freedom from fear" as part of our lives. Yet many of our actions contradict those desires. It often ends up more satisfying to this seemingly twisted ethic to worry about..say stepping on a crack on a day like this than delighting in a triumphant embrace of peace somewhere,anywhere in the world. So if people desire to achieve that freedom from fear,perhaps they'd be well advised to take a longer and harder look into the sources of these fears that so preoccupy their hearts and mind.
It's been nearly a months time since I've written anything on this particular blog. The reasoning behind this is that there didn't seem to be much that could be offered into the conversational pool that hadn't already been said. Outside of writers block,that might be the other key motivating factor in people's inability to offer consistent prose to the public. That also goes into the idea that sometimes a person has so much to say,nothing is able to come out. Well it would seem the inspiration for translating these thoughts eloquently in this particular case came from a Facebook comment thread in which I participated in earlier. Likely there are elements that have been illustrated in other articles here. But for this occasion I'll blend new commentary with what was stated in that Facebook thread to make better sense of it all.
When news broke out about tensions involving chemical weapons in Syria,memories of last years holiday tension revolving around the Sandy Hook school shooting immediately came to mind. Considering the general attitude of hostility around me-everywhere from in the grocery store to say,a receptionist at a doctors office it does seem important to reinforce a certain point with perhaps greater moral authority which many find all too easy to evoke through religious righteousness but very difficult to find within themselves. Personally,and in this situation it comes down to this: I don't approve of war or the military as it is,there is another way to handle this Syria issue and I don't blame President Obama at all.
The president is under enormous pressure from what the majority of people know to be a government with an prevalent Military Industrial back-round-which actually has resemblances to Stalinist Russia in many ways: a governing body who begins treating citizens badly for the sake of an idea. Many people still pledge allegiance to a flag in a militaristic manner. Many also rely on pure propaganda-insisting one side is right and the other is wrong. In the end both sides of a given conflict are doing the exact same thing. Differences in political organization and leadership not withstanding? Human beings may not all be alike culturally. But the majority of them deal with interpersonal and armed conflict in a very similar manner.
Some might even cynically argue its humanity's indignation about our social and religious ideologies that define our very character. Still facts are facts: the last war we engaged in as a nation resulted in America becoming a morally and socially decaying society. Almost everyone are aware things have to be changed. Yet they are often too locked down into unwieldy social attitudes-just about any "ism" you could name. Today society seems to function much like a schoolyard-bitterly divided into it's own separate schools. There' democracy,conservatism, libertarianism,socialism,humanism,atheism,totalitarianism,spiritualism. You'll find a plethora of them just about everywhere you go in fact.
Now there are sadistic dictators in places such as Syria who will do unconscionable things. What is difficult to understand is why so many aren't able to see this as a mere symptom of a much larger problem. We claim to protect other countries from such tyranny's as chemical warfare. But considering our repulsively prejudiced attitudes towards immigration, is it not ourselves we're really protecting? Are we in fact morally superior to the countries whose tyranny we rail out against? Basically its time for the American people to discontinue behaving like preadolescenct boys at recess-hitting and bullying each other over an inconsequential material object such as a toy or a baseball bat.
No governmental system that denies the soul can be. One cannot create the person by merely creating the environment. That is why Communism and fascism were inherently flawed. And why America themselves face similar flaws today. Perhaps it comes down to misunderstandings of the entire masculine ethic,and further more than the masculine ethic is what is pushing society forward. An observation was made to me earlier today that,generally,a man who is still a heavy substance abuser may be more likely to try to hide such behavior from his family. Where a man who has recovered and grown beyond such behaviors may discuss them more readily and with great candor. Since the President is a caring family man who clearly loves and cares for his children and future generations,it's appropriate he take a firmer stance against world militarism/totalitarianism and set a new course for America and the world away from tyranny-of any sort and any kind.
Several months ago I wrote an article on this blog about some human being's purely sentimental attachment to older technology versus newer developments. As with its detractors,my own opinions modern "digi-tech" is based almost entirely on individual observation. I personally try at least to make an effort not to let bias lead the way in my thoughts and feelings. Now I'm not saying to pump myself up to appear superior in heart and mind to anyone else. But only to illustrate a thought process that took much time and effort to develop. And that more people would be wise to...well at least try to try. What I am writing about today again comes from personal experience. And it is not about modern technology and our reluctance to it. But rather about the more extreme end of this spectrum:fear of technology,apparently known as technophobia. And there's a personal story to illustrate this too.
Nine years ago my family purchased a Sony CMT-NEZ3 mini home stereo system. As with most such devices of the time it could play both standard CD's and MP3 discs,and it had a built in digital radio turner. But the main selling point to them is that even in 2005 it was one of the few systems they could find with a cassette player/recorder. As is typical of Sony products up through today apparently,the CD is held down with a black spindle that within the last year or so has come loose. It takes sometimes ten attempts at taking the CD in and out of the player in order to get it to play. Otherwise,the device clicks and continues to say "no disc". Yet its not broken in any serious sense: merely looseness clearly observable in the black spindle mechanism. Recently however,this has started to create a problem for me personally.
When I do my acrylic canvas painting some nights,I listen to music. Its all part of personal stress objectification in this particular case. In the last couple of weeks or so,I have noticed how the complicated process of repeating the same operation to try to get the device to play the CD has gotten me to the point where this entire fiasco was creating the exact level of stress my painting/music situation is supposed to help prevent. Down to the point where on some occasions I decided it might be appropriate not to even paint the given night. Tried another solution in my moms old yellow Sony boombox from 2000. However it has the same exact spindle,and of course the results were the same. In the end the solution was simple: plug my portable CD player into a surge protector with portable speakers. Worked like a charm in lieu of a better system. Still it was an important revelation for me.
Why would someone such as myself whose learned so much in the past decade about re-arranging life to prevent tension loose my temper on a device that doesn't care how I feel about it? It bought to mind another possible reason towards people's fear of technology outside their sentimental attachment to only that which they've known. Could be that a lot of people's fear and frustration at modern technology comes both from their lack of ability to understand it, but their irritation at the over zealous attitudes of the technologies developers. I've come to a conclusion that a lot of the new and less then adequate technologies-such as digital television and some lower end laptop computers,are developed by eager beaver type technicians who are perhaps so fascinated with their own inventions they neglect practicality to the everyday people. I think if humanism joined forces more with futurism,technology's performance would seriously improve. And therefore so would fear of it.
It was 8:15 in the morning in a city on the coast of Japan. It was a beautiful and sunny August 6'th. The year was 1945. Most of the other cities in Japan had been bombed by Allied aircraft and the people of this city started to realize that their city,so far untouched,might have been saved aside for a reason. So many people had their heads covered outside. Being the typical morning commuting hour, people were going to their jobs in and around the city. Soldiers stationed their were preparing for their training operations on the parade grounds. Children were going to school. Families were enjoying peaceful breakfasts in their homes-mothers,fathers and their children. One of these families saw this blinding white flash,brighter than a thousand suns,burst into the window. Than an Earthquake like shot blew them through the house as it flew about. And some of them were knocked unconscious by the force of the blast.
When this family opened their eyes to look around them,they saw the city was now a smoldering inferno-blanketed by thick black smoke and fire. Around them were charcoal black figures-burnt to a crisp where they stood. There were charcoal black figures walking too-aimlessly in all directions with their shredded skin hanging off their outstretched arms. They pegged for water. Someone in the family tried to give them some out of a water pump. And the people died right after. Those who survived flung themselves into the river to escape the intense heat. As they piled up on one another,some of them drowned. Then these survivors looked up and felt raindrops falling. They started drinking the rain,which they noticed was black like oil. Black rain was falling from the sky. All around them,people still walking on the streets started to fall one by one,side by side and pass away.
For the next few days soldiers mounted rescue operations in this city. By then the same thing had happened to another nearby city. Within the next few weeks many more people died. And something strange started to happen. Other people who should've been getting better came down with an unknown illness. Their hair started to fall out of their heads. They became extremely weak and docile. Purple spots started to appear on their bodies. They threw up large amounts of black liquid and also started dying. Conversations with them revealed that these people were close to the ground zero where this flash had appeared-such as the people who had drunk the black rain. Today years have passed since these events. This city has been rebuilt. And some of the people have survived. But all of them have had to live with ongoing health conditions such as deformed body parts,organ failures and an extremely high cancer rate. Survivors of this are known as Hibakusha-meaning Explosion Afflicted People.
As much as it sounds like a nightmare inducing horror movie,what you just heard was true. And the name of the first city is happened in was Hiroshima. No matter how we slice it, this was the first and only nuclear war ever conducted by any nation. People have debated the politics of dropping the first atomic bomb in war since the day it happened. And there doesn't seem to be any solid resolution as of yet at this point. Many have died during war since. Children and families in many parts of the world. Even victims of terrorist attacks such as 9/11. However I'd personally like to ask anyone who is debating with someone about the abolition of nuclear weapons to think about stories such as the one you've just heard. Think about the children who burned to death. Think about all the families destroyed by radiation poisoning from things like the black rain. And despite who cruel some people can be, think about if this is something you'd really wish on even your worst enemies.
