Dave Brockington has a post up at LGM about Chernobyl tourism. (I'll be damned: spell-check likes Chernobyl.)
One of our party wanted to go, but our schedule was full and some of us were opposed, myself included. I had no wish to become irradiated or have to replace everything I was wearing. The lure of of inhabited land turned feral - not just returned to nature but poisonous - remains pretty powerful though, and I still regret not going, much as I know if I was presented with the chance again I still wouldn't take it.
Below is a picture from the terrific-by-Ukrainian-standards Chernobyl museum in Kiev (photography not allowed, dumb tourists cut some slack). These men who look so pleased at their triumph over the reactor died shortly thereafter of course.
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I don't think you thought it all the way through, Bubba.
Think how convenient it would have been to be able to read at night without a lamp...
Capcha is calling out to all the wormese people!
Think how convenient it would have been to be able to read at night without a lamp...
Then you wanna turn out the lights and the insides of your eyelids are glowing.
These men who look so pleased at their triumph over the reactor died shortly thereafter of course.
I suspect that they knew at the time that their overtime bonus was going to come in the form of a hero's funeral.
Put those guys in suits and they are the rescuers of Wall Street in 15 years time.
From the Wikipedia: From eyewitness accounts of the firefighters involved before they died (as reported on the CBC television series Witness), one described his experience of the radiation as "tasting like metal", and feeling a sensation similar to that of pins and needles all over his face.
You'd have to know something was awfully wrong. At the same time, being attacked by invisible stuff is, it seems to me, conducive to pretending you're not being attacked at all. In the article Brockington links to the tour guide seems to believe that staying safe is a matter of care and confidence.
...being attacked by invisible stuff is, it seems to me, conducive to pretending you're not being attacked at all
Actually, it's something you eventually get used to. This morning I was attacked by a pack of invisible industrial grade steel wool.
It was quite a fight, but in the end I was victorious and exfoliated.
You just need to remain calm, and don't expect anybody in the area to help.
Beware the killocer
I understand that radiation levels in Prypiat are back to background levels, but after 20 years of neglect the buildings and infrastructure are in such a mess that it's not worth re-occupying.
Wikipedia reckons that it's OK to visit:
A natural concern is whether it is safe to visit Prypiat and the surrounding area. The Exclusion Zone is considered relatively safe to visit, and several Ukrainian companies offer guided tours of the area. The radiation levels have decreased from the high levels of April 1986 due to the decay of the short-lived isotopes released in the accident.
It seems to feature in a remarkable number of computer games, thus obviating the need to visit it in meatspace.
They measure you after your trip and confiscate what clicks too much. That's enough to keep me out I think, although it's pretty reasonable to wonder where what's confiscated really goes.
In a poor country it's also taken for granted that people gather what food they can from where they can: the guidebooks happily list foods that tend to soak up radioactive material so alarmists can watch out.
One thing is, you can't get invisible monkey butlers like you used to be able to. Coincidence???
Capcha talks to us of the time Another Kiwi stalked Cameron Diaz for 2 years fultiful.
The lure of of inhabited land turned feral - not just returned to nature but poisonous - remains pretty powerful though
Shouldn't have watched Stalker so many times.
"Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave"
you can't get invisible monkey butlers like you used to be able to
You are wallowing in false nostalgia. They were just as bad back in 1872.
"I shall not continue in detail my narrative of this particular night.
I shall describe, rather, the phenomena of the first year, which never
varied essentially. I shall describe the monkey as it appeared in daylight.
In the dark, as you shall presently hear, there are peculiarities. It is a
small monkey, perfectly black. It had only one peculiarity -- a character of
malignity -- unfathomable malignity. During the first year it looked sullen
and sick. But this character of intense malice and vigilance was always
underlying that surly languor. During all that time it acted as if on a
plan of giving me as little trouble as was consistent with watching me. Its
eyes were never off me. I have never lost sight of it, except in my sleep,
light or dark, day or night, since it came here, excepting when it withdraws
for some weeks at a time, unaccountably.
"In total dark it is visible as in daylight. I do not merely its eyes.
It is all visible distinctly in a halo that resembles a glow of red
embers, and which accompanies it in all its movements."
Whoa.
That cat had some GOOD shit.
I reckon "The Horla" was another story about disgruntled invisible monkey butlers.
Invisible monkey butler roll calls?
NEVER AGAIN.
I reckon "The Horla" was another story about disgruntled invisible monkey butlers.
Ah, and of course I didn't know "monkey butler" in French. IT ALL FITS NOW!
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