Riding Out in that Shiny Car in the Night

I recently saw an article on the Internet that seemed too tabloid-like to be true. Sadly, it may have some shred of credibility.

Essentially, the author, Mike Adams of NaturalNews.com wrote: “…Fukushima reactor No. 4… is on the verge of a catastrophic failure…. The resulting releasing of radiation would turn North America into a ‘dead zone’… from an earthquake in Japan. Such an event could result in the release of 85 times the Cesium-137 released by the Chernobyl catastrophe, say experts.” As you may know, the weather patterns would carry that deadly radiation over to North America on the wind.

“The winds that blow through the wide sky in these mounts, the winds that sweep from Canada to Mexico, from the Pacific to the Atlantic—have always blown on free men.”—Franklin D. Roosevelt

Fortunately, Japan has been relatively quiet lately in the seismic sense. But what if a substantial earthquake occurred before the Japanese had a chance to take care of business at Fukushima reactor No. 4? And what’s taking them so long, anyway? Since Cesium-137 has a half-life of 30 years, that would make North America uninhabitable for, oh, say, about 100 or more years.

That got me to thinking. Let’s say that North America reaped some strange karma by being exposed to radiation poisoning by the people who endured the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki toward the end of World War II. What would be the consequences of the demise of Canada, the United States and Mexico? Well, I can’t speak for Canada or Mexico, but here are a few thoughts about a post-mortem United States of America.

"Despite the goings-on in Congress, I don't believe the USA is bordering on madness. I believe Mexico and Canada are."—Robert Brault

On the bright side, as the highest-volume consumers of natural resources, our extinction would have an immediate, positive impact on the environment. However, we are by no means the most populated country in the world, and China and India—fast-developing countries—would eventually fill our shoes in that respect.

Another high note: Monsanto would be dealt a powerful blow and the possibility exists that the rest of the world might gang up on whatever Monsanto employees were left in satellite countries and end their GMO adulteration of our food supplies for good. Then, at least, we will not have made the ultimate sacrifice in vain.

Countries could form their foreign and monetary policies without worrying about repercussions from a testy United States. That could be good or bad, depending on if you are a woman in Afghanistan (our parting agreement there requires women’s human rights be safeguarded), a Chinese government official responsible for buying U.S. debt (that will now never be repaid), or a rival non-USA corporation that will inherit tremendous market share.

What about the joy of blaming the United States for everything bad in the world? With our country gone, the call for blood-thirsty Death-to-America Jihads and the general distaste for our arrogant corporate and political agendas would be deflated like an old party balloon. The remaining world population would have no one to blame but themselves. Not a pleasant prospect.

“If you want a symbolic gesture, don't burn the flag; wash it.” —Norman Thomas

There’s a lot to resent about the United States, but I think there would also be many things that people would miss. No more overseas shopping jaunts to New York City, Chicago or Los Angeles. No more Disneyland or Disneyworld—the parent company of the overseas versions would be deceased. No more touring our magnificent western geography or placing your hands in the cement in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood. No more blockbuster movies or American television—good or bad, depending upon your tastes. No more home-grown jazz, soul or R&B.

The magnificent Grand Canyon, Arizona, USA.

Since the United States is composed not only of native Americans (the people from whom we stole all the land) but also of people from nearly every nation in the world, there might be cause for some international grieving. People might even become sentimental about us, the way people often do at a funeral, regardless of the deceased's actual character. 

My father’s family arrived here from Hungary. My best friend in high school was born in Italy. My co-workers were born in India, Mexico, Egypt, South America, Europe, Japan and China. Americans may be spoiled children, of sorts, but we’re related to just about everyone out there. So, world, if you lose us, remember, you’re losing a small piece of yourself.

“Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?”—Jack Kerouac