When I was a child, in the mid-60s, I had a recurring nightmare that I was in charge of the button that would initiate global atomic war. The button would repeatedly get accidentally pushed, and millions would die in each repeat of the nightmare. I remember waking up each time with an overwhelming sense of dread and guilt for having caused such worldwide death and destruction. I was 6, 7 and 8 years old, and my waking life at home was a constant, abusive battlefield between my physically violent father and my oldest hippie-stoner brother. Yes, I also wet the bed then.
How I Learned to Fear the Bomb.
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