Brinkley gave it all he had today, from a pants-explosion standpoint, but his diaper, and my makeshift olfactory field works,
were equal to the task. If yesterday’s poop nuke was a one-off–as now seems likely–I can easily fight on until my replacement nose plug arrives. That’s why the second atomic bomb may well have been necessary to force the surrender of Japan in the Second World War. If the Hiroshima bomb was a one-off, an experimental device that could not be easily or rapidly reproduced, then the Imperial government could conceivably continue the war and press for more favorable terms of surrender, if nothing else. But if the Americans had two such weapons, there was no telling how many more they had (zero at that moment, not that the Japanese had any way of knowing that). We are a resilient species in the face of one-off disasters, but when disaster becomes the new status quo we quickly and sensibly start to scramble. No scramble necessary today, at least not yett. I don’t know how I’m going to get all this duct tape off my face, but that’s a separate problem. A bigger problem may be that I’m not entirely sure I want it off. I’m not, in fact, entirely sure I don’t want to make a duct tape mask for the rest of my face. Alas, I fear I would scare Brinkley, and so I will have to find some other way to look awesome.