inside voice

Socialist writers depict the socialist community as a land of heart’s desire. Fourier’s sickly fantasies go farthest in this direction. In Fourier’s state of the future all harmful beasts will have disappeared, and in their places will be animals which will assist man in his labors — or even do his work for him. An anti-beaver will see to the fishing; an anti-whale will move sailing ships in a calm; an anti-hippopotamus will tow the riverboats. Instead of the lion there will be an anti-lion, a steed of wonderful swiftness, upon whose back the rider will sit as comfortably as in a well-sprung carriage … Godwin even thought that men might be immortal after property had been abolished. Kautsky tells us that under the socialist society “a new type of man will arise … a superman … an exalted man.” Trotsky provides even more detailed information: “Man will become incomparably stronger, wiser, finer. His voice more harmonious, his movements more rhythmical, his voice more musical. The human average will rise to the level of an Aristotle, a Goethe, a Marx. Above these other heights, new peaks will arise.

It so happens that a young man, usually a navy officer, accompanies the president where ever he goes. This young man has a black attache case wich contains the codes that are needed to fire nuclear weapons.

I can see the president at a staff meeting considering nuclear war as an abstract question. He might conclude, “On SIOP Plan One, the decision is affirmative. Communicate the alpha line XYZ.” Such jargon keeps what is involved at a distance.

My suggestion them, is quite simple. Put that needed code number in a little capsule and implant that capsule right next to the heart of a volunteer. The volunteer will carry with him a big, heavy butcher knife as he accompanies the president. If ever the president wants to fire nuclear weapons, the only way he can do so is by first, with his own hands, killing one human being.

“George,” the president would say, “I’m sorry, but tens of millions must die.” The president then would have to look at someone and realize what death is - what an INNOCENT death is. Blood on the White House carpet: it’s reality brought home.

When I suggested this to friends in the Pentagon, they said, “My God, that’s terrible. Having to kill someone would distort the president’s judgement. He might never push the button!”

[Obama’s] words will be little consolation for 8-year-old Nabila, who, on Oct. 24, had just returned from school and was playing in a field outside her house with her siblings and cousins while her grandmother picked flowers. At 2:30 p.m., a Hellfire missile came out of the sky and struck right in front of Nabila. Her grandmother was badly burned and succumbed to her injuries; Nabila survived with severe burns and shrapnel wounds in her shoulder. Nabila doesn’t know who Mr. Obama is, or where the Hellfire missile that killed her grandmother came from.