Friday, May 24, 2024

Apocalypse Now?



May 23, 2024

Eyes open. Look around. Ears attuned. Listen up. Something is happening here, there, and everywhere. Ignore it, avoid it, deny it , whine or weep over it and it will keep happening. Fight it and envision and seek better, and we can stop it. You know it, don’t your? We can abide or we can fight. Which will we choose?

I hate apocalyptic attitude, entertainment, and organizing. Even if often unintentionally, Apocalypse says don’t seek better. Apocalypse parades lies to paralyze hope and pervert action. Apocalypse says there is no better. Doom alone awaits. We will lose.

I prefer to welcome, seek, and urge vision-inspired attitude, vision-seeking entertainment, and vision-informed organizing. Vision tells truths to reveal hope and mobilize action. Vision says there is better. We can win.

Maybe it’s merely getting old. Maybe it’s the cacophony of apocalyptic utterances that now fills every silence. Maybe it’s what bellows down every byway. Whatever the cause, as much as I still hate to say it, I now hear apocalypse at our door. I can no longer deny it. But I still know vision and willful strategic effort remain essential. They must predominate.

To ignore apocalypse as if it isn’t there, as if it is only naysaying cynicism, conveys delusion. Apocalyptic fear is now warranted. Visionary hope is needed. So the latter must now harmonize with the former rather than for the latter to ignore or deny the former.

And what has made apocalypse into half of realism? It’s no secret. We all know the answer.

War has attained infinite reach and power. War’s bombs have eyes. War explodes and starves. Look at Gaza. Where there were cities of homes, schools, hospitals, auditoriums, and souls, now there is rubble. Now there are corpses. And off-site way too many people cheer.

Human choice has bent the skies and seas into cauldrons of collapse. Tornadoes meet tsunamis. High water marries record temperatures to produce still higher and still hotter. There are cities of homes, schools, hospitals, auditoriums, and souls. Look north, south, east, and west. Climate threatens them all. Rubble multiplies. Corpses decay. And off-site too many people sunbathe.

Fascism has metastasized so that hate flourishes, lies suffocate truth, and nightmares become daily facts. Reason vacates. Fundamentalism flourishes. We all become clickbait linked to our worst selves. Books burn. A new Reich. A new Reich. A new Reich. Literally, that’s what the maximum U.S. reactionary thug now says he wants. There were cities where thinking souls lived. Now city’s zealots yell hooray for our side while they seek to clear the stage of all but themselves. Some celebrate. Others tremble or hide. Off-site too many people walk an empty Mall or imbibe a soundless film. Eyes on the ground, ears shut down, lemmings prowl their way off cliffs.

And finally, as if the familiar horrors weren’t enough, a new apocalyptic threat, AI, advances at breakneck pace. It reads, writes, codes, hears, talks, paints, sees, questions, sings, designs, jokes, flirts, emotes, explains, originates, and plans—all while it instantly accesses a mind-bogglingly huge store of factual knowledge about us, until it is trained on itself. Talk of care and safety is already sidelined by odes to progress. But so what? What’s apocalyptic about that? Why can’t we use AI, welcome AI, worship AI to do more, do it easier, and enjoy ever bigger gains? Perhaps we can, but existential dangers also beckon. Further escalated capacities may go rogue and dance death and rubble on us. Less noticed, escalated AI capacities may increasingly do exactly what we ask them to until AI does steadily more of what makes us human while we humans are left to do only what is machine-like. Meanwhile, geniuses cheer on encroaching vapidity. That is not rubble. That is not death. But I fear it is a living coma. Even without corpses I find AI potentially apocalyptic.

Four crises. Four facets of apocalypse. So why is vision and willful organizing for better still essential? Because it is now the only path to better. Not overnight, but ever. To we seek suicide, we can just continue to cheer on apocalypse. Or to weep or whine about it. Or to deny it. Those paths bring disaster. If we want to attain better much less to attain best, we can’t cheer apocalypse on. We can’t just weep about it. We can’t ignore it. We have to instead find flexible vision. We have think flexible vision through and flexibly share it to create and constantly update effective strategy. And with shared vision and effective strategy we have to forge our own activist paths toward liberation. That is the hard truth. Apocalypse is no lie. What are we going to do about it? What do we want? How much do we want it? Collective action for progress? Or private slumber for death? We can’t side step responsibility. We must decide.



Michael Albert`s radicalization occurred during the 1960s. His political involvements, starting then and continuing to the present, have ranged from local, regional, and national organizing projects and campaigns to co-founding South End Press, Z Magazine, the Z Media Institute, and ZNet, and to working on all these projects, writing for various publications and publishers, giving public talks, etc. His personal interests, outside the political realm, focus on general science reading (with an emphasis on physics, math, and matters of evolution and cognitive science), computers, mystery and thriller/adventure novels, sea kayaking, and the more sedentary but no less challenging game of GO. Albert is the author of 21 books which include: No Bosses: A New Economy for a Better World; Fanfarefor the Future; Remembering Tomorrow; Realizing Hope; and Parecon: Life After Capitalism. Michael is currently host of the podcast Revolution Z and is a Friend of ZNetwork.


The U.S. Tested Nukes on Its Own People. It’s Time to Apologize and Pay



 
 MAY 24, 2024
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Trinity, July 16, 1945

Trinity Test, July 16, 1945. Photo by Jack Aeby for Los Alamos National Laboratories, U.S. Department of Energy.

Tina Cordova is intimately familiar with the legacy of the atomic bomb. Her hometown, Tularosa, New Mexico, is just thirty-four miles downwind from the Trinity Test Site, where Manhattan Project scientists first detonated what they called “the Gadget.” When both of her great-grandfathers, who were in Tularosa during the blast, succumbed to stomach cancer ten years later, it was just the beginning of her family’s troubles.

In early May, Cordova stood outside the U.S. Capitol alongside senators Josh Hawley (R-MO) and Benjamin Ray Lujan (D-NM) to urge the house to take up a bill, passed in the senate, to extend and expand the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA), which will expire on June 7. “I’m the fourth generation in my family since 1945 to have cancer. And this,” she said as she held up a picture of her twenty-three-year-old niece, diagnosed with thyroid cancer, “is what the fifth generation looks like.”

Enacted in 1990, RECA acknowledged and compensated American victims of the U.S. nuclear program. Between 1945 and 1962, the U.S. conducted 200 above-ground tests in the southwest and Pacific. These tests required the labor of thousands of uranium miners – mostly from the Navajo Nation – and the obliviousness of thousands more civilians living downwind. For decades, the government failed to warn the public of the hazards associated with radiation exposure, insisting that the bomb tests were safely conducted in “largely uninhabited areas,” prompting former secretary of the interior Tom Udall to cite an anonymous uranium miner: “Woe to those that live in largely uninhabited areas.”

When RECA passed, it was a significant, but narrow, victory. The bill offered partial restitution to a limited number of downwinders in Nevada, Utah and Arizona, and only pre-1971 uranium miners. Post-‘71 miners, as well as downwinders from New Mexico, Idaho, Montana, Colorado, Guam, and other parts of Nevada, Arizona and Utah, were excluded. In December 2023, a nine-year extension and expansion of RECA passed the senate with broad bipartisan support. Co-sponsored by senators Lujan and Hawley, the bill expands coverage to neglected groups, increases victim compensation from $50,000 to $100,000, and funds a study on how to provide healthcare to victims. Crucially for Cordova, the bill marks the first time in eighty years that the government acknowledges the devastating, ongoing impact of that first test in New Mexico.

Trinity was unlike any other nuclear test. To help ensure that the nuclear reaction at the heart of the bomb would occur, it was packed with thirteen pounds of plutonium, far more than experiments suggested was necessary. When it was detonated just 100 feet above the ground, it created conditions that have been likened to a “dirty bomb.” Only three pounds of plutonium fissioned; the rest was simply incinerated, fusing with the sand, vegetation and animals surrounding it, rising high enough into the stratosphere to spread over thousands of square miles.

Henry Herrera was eleven years old at the time. He was helping his father fill his truck’s radiator in Tularosa when he saw a flash of light so bright, he thought “the world was coming to an end.” In Carrizozo, villagers fled to the church and waited inside, crying and panicking at the arrival of what some believed was the Rapture.

The hard rains that came immediately after the blast fell onto roofs and collected in the cisterns that desert homes use for drinking, bathing, cooking, and cleaning. For days, white powder fell from the sky like snow. Children played in the ash and rubbed it on their faces. People breathed in radioactive particles every time dust storms lifted the desert sands.

After the test, survey teams travelled out to follow the plume, but despite measuring high levels of ionizing radiation, they didn’t order any evacuations. Five days later, dangerous conditions and airborne radioactive dust were confirmed across 2,700 square miles. Privately, scientists conceded that the original 15-mile radius of the fallout danger zone was off by orders of magnitude. Publicly, officials told local reporters it was just an explosion at an ammunitions dump. The world wouldn’t find out what happened in New Mexico until August, when the next atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.

It wasn’t until 2006 that the Department of Energy admitted the danger to Trinity downwinders. That’s when they conceded that Trinity “posed the most significant hazard of the Manhattan Project.” Four years later, a CDC report found that New Mexicans were exposed to radiation levels 10,000 times higher than currently allowed, and were “neither warned before…the blast, informed of health hazards afterward, nor evacuated before, during, or after the test.”

The first victims were children. In the three months following the blast, the infant death rate throughout New Mexico increased by 56%, and by 38% overall in 1945. “And we know those rates are low,” Cordova told me. For 19 years, she’s been working to unearth Trinity’s dreadful legacy. In 2005, she founded the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium, which has collected over 1,200 health statements from downwinders, documenting an astonishing legacy of stomach, thyroid, brain and pancreatic cancers, and other illnesses. Among those statements is Herrera’s. He was diagnosed with cancer at 63, having already lost his brother, a nephew and a niece to cancer. Two of his sisters are cancer survivors.

Cordova’s organization combed through local Catholic church records, revealing scores of undocumented infant deaths following the blast that would not have been accounted for in previous surveys. “These were rural children,” she said. “They were born at home. If they died within the first year, their deaths were not recorded.”

Cordova’s fight to expand RECA is the subject of the 2024 documentary First We Bombed New Mexico, which explores the history of the Trinity test and the ongoing plight of downwinders and uranium miners. Currently, there are more than 500 abandoned uranium mines on or near Navajo Nation, with many families still living in dangerous proximity. And nationwide, anywhere between 11,000 and 212,000 downwinders in the United States are estimated to have cases of thyroid cancer linked to radioactive fallout.

Despite broad bipartisan support, some Republican members of congress oppose the bill. A spokesperson for Senator Mitt Romney stated, “Without clear evidence linking previous government action to the expanded list of illnesses, and a price tag north of $50 billion, Senator Romney could not support the legislation.” Romney, joined by fellow Utah Senator Mike Lee, introduced separate legislation that would extend RECA for another two years, without expanding eligibility.

Their position defies logic. Romney and Lee expressed no such fiscal reservations when they introduced the Sentinal Nuclear Deterrence Act of 2023, which extends the life of the U.S.’s arsenal of intercontinental ballistic missiles. The program has cost taxpayers $150 billion since 2015, with an addition $130 billion price tag over the next decade according to the U.S. Air Force. Meanwhile, the $2.5 billion paid out over the entire 33-year lifespan of RECA is less than one percent of the $50 billion paid annually over that same period to maintain the nation’s nuclear arsenal. And that’s to say nothing of the $10 trillion the U.S. has spent on nuclear defense since the Manhattan Project began. “It’s a pittance and an embarrassment,” Cordova told me.

Senator Hawley was quick to call out Romney and his fellow Republicans on the senate floor. “The bill for this radiation has been paid,” he said. “It’s been paid by the American people. . . They’re the ones who are dying. They’re the ones who are having to forgo cancer treatments for their children . . . because their government has exposed them to this radiation negligently . . . It’s time the government bore its share.”

Extending and expanding RECA is about more than financial compensation. It’s about accountability. The government needs to acknowledge the pain and suffering it has caused to all of its citizens harmed as a result of the nuclear weapons industry. The wounds have not only been physical and financial, but psychological. “They lied to us,” Cordova told me. “Our government’s main role is to protect its citizens, and they did the opposite. They harmed us.” Failing to pass this legislation will amount to one more harm, one more denial, one more historic injustice.

Stewart Sinclair is staff writer for Anthropocene Alliance and the author of Juggling (Duke University Press, 2023), and Space Rover (Bloomsbury, 2024).




The Rebirth of “Ban the Bomb” in an Era of an increase of the Danger of Nuclear War



 

MAY 24, 2024

During a recent visit to a hospital, where I had the chance to speak extensively with Doctors and Staff members, I heard a number of them state that they were worried and apprehensive about the increasing danger of Nuclear War, and the rise of warfare in general.

I think that the once powerful cry of “Ban the Bomb,” so often sung or chanted in the 1960s during the years of John F. Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson and also during the 1970s and ’80s, could well roar back into force.

I think the clear threat of Nuclear War is on the dangerous rise, thanks to various war-like elements in the East and West, and the explosion of violence and strife throughout the World.

Back in the 1970s, I used to sing a tune I wrote, fervently and fearfully hopeful for Nuclear Disarmament, in reading after reading:

BAN THE BOMB

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb

The True “Satanic Mills”
grind out the neutron bomb!
and the barrels of waste in the roiling sea poison the trawler’s net

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb

What we need in the world today is a Total Nuke-Free zone—

no missiles here
no waste drop here no shipments here no reactors here

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb

Ah, what can we do, what can we do, what can we do?

Oh, time-tithe, time-tithe, time-tithe— to work each month
a little bit of time

against dirty, filthy, evil, disastrous, poisonous & murderous nukes!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb

May all you singers find
fresh and brilliant ways
to sing ban the bomb, ban the bomb, ban the bomb

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ban the Bomb

—Ed Sanders,
Woodstock, NY,
Used to sing it all the time
in the 1970s— time to bring it Back!!!!

Ed Sanders is a poet, musician and writer. He founded Fuck You: a Magazine of the Arts, as well as the Fugs. He edits the Woodstock Journal. His books include: The FamilySharon Tate: a Life and the novel Tales of Beatnik Glory.