War Crime or War Winner? The Truth about the Bomb

Originally posted on materialism, mysticism and art:

From Murray Sayle, ‘War crime or war winner? The Truth about the Bomb,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 15.07.95

…the head of the Manhattan Project, Major-General Leslie Groves, a determined military man feeling responsible for spending $2 billion on the bomb and worried that the war might end first, at that point was pushing strenuously for its immediate use. When Leo Szilard, who had drafted Albert Einstein’s letter to President Roosevelt warning of a German bomb six years earlier, drew up a scientists’ petition opposing the use of the atom bomb against Japanese cities, Groves had the petition classified top secret, thus restricting its impact to a tiny circle….Szilard’s petition got as far as Groves’s office, where it stayed. …

What did the first atom bombs achieve? Well, it will be instantly answered, they ended the war, didn’t they, and so saved many lives – the estimates vary from 50,000…

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Flower, alone…

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No one came to my funeral.
They came to say goodbye,
to mourn, to cry…
Dressed in black like crows
awaiting patiently until the first worms
shall make their way from underneath my skin.
Yes, they came,
but not to my funeral.
There was I,
alone, dressed in black like a monstrous raven,
nested uncomfortably amongst shiny cushions
filled with cheap fibre; hollow fibre…
They all came in the end;
where were they when I needed them most?
When all my innermosts were screaming
for anything to ease the pain of screaming
in vain?
There alone, blind, wrapped in blood,
so unlike the orgasm which conceived me…
Dumb little sucker,
tossed around like a bushel of cheap meat…
Nope, no one came that day.
They were busy with their own funerals and stuff;
except for the dying ones, themselves.

They’re all here today;
adorned with cheap, dead flowers,
choir of drunk undertakers
digging the last trenches of dignity.

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Don’t wonder…

Liberty of Thinking:

I couldn’t have said it better myself…

Originally posted on What comes to my mind...:

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Scavenging gods…

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I peeled myself away
from time.
Away from every little,
wicked portal of uselessness
opened between agonising trees
and falling drops of water…
I’ve seen the principles of physics
falling apart,
laws turning to claws,
hosts becoming ghosts,
asses turning into masses,
with hopes strangling like ropes
binding us all to altars
emptied every morning
by scavenging gods of hunger…

Mothers in the end, and all the brothers,
will have been left like many others,
about whom no one bothers
anymore…

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