In Nuclear Silos, Death Wears a Snuggie
If this image isn't the quintessential emblem of a world gone mad, I don't know what would be. I remember "duck and cover" drills in grade school. I remember the panic in the early 1980's, when my kids were small, as the Western powers built up their forces in Europe and embarked on "Star Wars" to knock Soviet missiles out of the sky.
And all the while, deep underground in missile fields from Arkansas to Montana, Death was wrapped in a Snuggie and wearing bunny slippers.
The absurdity is palpable - the irony overwhelming. And Death still waits today, in his blanket and footies, waiting for the signal to kill us all.
At a small United States Air Force installation in eastern Wyoming, I’m sitting at an electronic console, ready to unleash nuclear hell. In front of me is a strange amalgamation of ’60s-era flip switches and modern digital display screens. It’s the control console for launching an intercontinental ballistic missile or ICBM.
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