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epitome of incomprehensibility
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My brother was studying for his modern history final, which is tomorrow. At one point he rifled through his papers growling, "What is mad? What is mad?"
So I went up to him, with the idea that even if I wasn't helpful, I could earn some sociability points by pretending to be helpful. "What do you mean, mad?"
"M-A-D. It stands for something and I don't know what it is. It's not in my book, and I forgot to write it down in my notes."
I opened my mouth to take a wild and likely non-serious guess, when the phrase came to me unexpectedly. I don't know how I knew this, but I said "Mutually Assured Destruction."
He up looked at me from the rocking chair, asking "Are you sure?" but in a voice that leaned towards believing me.
I was sure when I saw the context, a jotted note: the Soviets getting nuclear weapons led to MAD. So then I had to explain, going something like, Well, when the Soviets got their nukes, they could strike back if the U.S. attacked first. And if the attacked party in this scenario was sure to retaliate, there'd be destruction on both sides; not total destruction, maybe, but enough of it to make either side think twice about attacking first. Hopefully. Thus "cold" war.
"But what was MAD? I mean what was it?" Seeing Dad, he sought reinforcement. "Did the leaders sign something?"
"No, no," I said. "it's like a concept."
"An idea," Dad corrected. What he thinks the difference between an idea and a concept is, I'm not quite sure. It reminds me of the difference between a caribou and a reindeer: same species, but arguably different subspecies living in difference places. (And more holiday-related mythology is accorded to the European version.)
And later, when I was pulling on my boots to go grocery shopping with my father, I asked him, "But are countries getting rid of their nuclear weapons now?"
He said no, but that the weapons were getting older and eventually wouldn't work. Which seems about as small comfort as "MAD" as a deterrent. Someone needs to make a Dr. Strangelove about aging, malfunctioning nukes. Except if it were me, I'd probably throw something in about radioactive reindeer with glowing noses. That wouldn't be nice, would it? People don't like you to shit on Santa Claus. Although, speaking of which, last Christmas I got a little plastic reindeer that pooped jellybeans. My mother will be silly sometimes.
Christmas and nuclear war. Hmmm. I don't know if there's an actual movie combining the two, but parallel_thinking leads me to note similar blockbuster concepts in the past.
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