My surname dates back centuries, and translates roughly to "Son of War". The members of our family have displayed a bizarre tactical proficiency over the years, facing off against five or more foes at a time. It has often been my hope that I too will one day make my ancestors proud, proving my tenacity by the time that last day dawns, and the curtain finally falls over my life.
But the world has changed dramatically since ages past. When a weapon can kill millions of people on the other side of the Earth within seconds, that's not war. It's suicide. And it has only one alternative: a lasting, unbroken peace.
I've never argued that we should all be singing "Kum-bay-ah". But with humanity stumbling upon ever more destructive powers, there are now only two possible futures facing it: annihilation, or paradise. And the ground delineating the two is disappearing ever more rapidly by the day.
If peace means people such as I have no place in this world, then so be it, for I would rather be last in line at the table of brotherhood, than to be the first served at the table of death and destruction.
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