Glowing from the Inside: Radiation Poisoning

The fact that we at any moment can die in the instant spark of an atomic fire haven't really been a concern of ours since the Cold War. Yet those countries who have nuclear weapons spend billions of dollars on improving them. Right now we could kill everything on this planet a few times over, but that's apparently not enough for some reason. Never mind the fact that no one can win a nuclear war, we're using ancient knowledge here. An eye for an eye.
And yet, if we spent all of that money we waste on nukes on, say education, health care and public transportation, we'd have come a lot closer to a utopia than a post apocalyptic wasteland.
Sure, Fallout might be a cool game, but no one that can be considered sane would want to live there. Fact is, you'd all be too dead to live there anyway, considering the generations that would have to pass before we could actually walk around outside again whiteout a sunblock of, say, a few millions.
I've always heard that we'd have to inherit our parents mistake. It seems like their nuclear holocaust is also passed down for the next generation to worry about. Thing is though, no one does.
One day, when all the nukes are long since forgotten, some bad wiring will cause a nuclear storage facility to go, well, nuclear on our asses. Like waking up the day after under a table, realizing that you're not at home. It's confusing and it hurts, and once you get home there's not one shard of whole glass left in the entire building, someone's stolen the doors, and everything else that wasn't chained to a block of concrete. Someone's also made a fire in the living room, decided to make a hole in the ceiling to let the smoke out, burned all the furniture that the other thieves didn't want, and repainted the entire place with small dead animals, garbage and human shit.
And when you're laying there naked and mentally destroyed, with blisters on your feet because you didn't find your shoes, a pair of torn jeans and a severely stained t-shirt is all you've got on that completely fails to keep you warm, I'll come climbing in trough the window.
I'll probably be looking a little less than a bum than you do, except for a enormous beard.
I'm gonna walk over, grab your t-shirt by the collar, punch you in the face ones, say "I told you so." then throw you back on what's left of your floor.

How's that for a metaphor?

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