20 Super Annoying Hollywood Habits
Posted: April 5, 2013 Filed under: Lists, Thoughts | Tags: annoying, cliche, films, habits, Hollywood, Michael Bay, movies Leave a comment »
Who doesn’t love settling in on a cold, rainy day to watch a movie? Or to spend a lazy Sunday glued to the TV for back-to-back episodes of that must-see show about the biker gang zombies who cook meth and sell it to dragons? I know I do. The problem for me though, is that I have an annoyingly hyperactive brain guarding the path to true immersion in whatever escapist fiction flickers on-screen. Perhaps I’m overly cynical, or perhaps it’s because I once trained myself to be resistant to hypnosis so as to prevent becoming a sleeper agent assassin for the KGB. In any case, it means I have an exhaustive list of Hollywood habits and clichés that will immediately snap my suspension of disbelief – which is already as brittle as Michael Bay’s New Year’s resolution to take it easy on the explosions.
Here are just some celluloid neuroses of mine:
1. People order drinks and food then never eat it – usually sticking someone with the bill
This is number one, because it’s most certainly the most irritating. If I were a café or bar owner in the film-world, I would lose my mind over the endless customers who saunter in, casually ask for something and then saunter back out again as soon as their order hits the grill-plate. Sometimes they might hang around until a drink arrives, but will exit immediately after they’ve indolently picked it up and waved it about a few times in conversation. Just think of the ruinous expenses of all that wastage and unpaid bills!
2. No-one looks at at anyone when they’re dropping some real heavy news
I get that sometimes dramatic things happen in life and breaking the news of some heavy shit can be pretty damned hard. But, whether you’re telling the President the zombie mutation virus has broken out of containment; or confessing to an extra-marital affair with your spouse’s bikram yoga instructor; or finally revealing to other soldiers in your platoon what really went down during Operation: Blue Typhoon and why you can never eat a banana again; at least have the common decency to look them in the eye! At the very least point your face at their face. None of this back-turning, mumbling rudeness!
3. Everyone has appalling phone manners
Have we really become such a socially abbreviated culture that we can’t even manage a mannerly goodbye at the end of a phone conversation? Characters just sit there on the line and wait until the crucial bit of info is revealed and then hang up. It’s just rude. No ‘thanks for calling’, no ‘see you later’, no ‘have a nice afternoon’, no ‘say hi to Frank for me’… just an abrupt end to the conve-
4. Dating in a big city a breeze
Even, no, especially in films about romance, it seems like a love life comes complimentary with your latte from the trendy city coffee shop as if cupid’s arrow tips were made of biscotti. Not only do you just happen to regularly bump into random acquaintances for witty banter over whatever semi-embarrassing situation you’re caught in (locked out of apartment, spilled coffee on self, dog running amok… etc), you then can simply peg a date with a simple: “Dinner Friday?”, “Sure”, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”… Done! It matters not where this stranger plans to take you, or how they know where you live. Pfft details – it’s date time!
5. The best player in the team will only show up at half-time
What does it say about team commitment when the best players are NEVER around for that dramatically crucial match against the really slick, sinister-looking team who have heaps of money, a bully coach and shiny black uniforms. It’s not until your team is one full cheek into a clinical and comprehensive arse-kicking when who should show up in the dressing room? Only the most vital member of your otherwise shithouse (yet totally lovable) team! Now get out there and win in the last few seconds in the most uncanny, slow-motion, tears-for-the-underdogs way possible!
6. People just kind of waltz into a room and pick up the conversation as if they’d been there all along…
Seriously!? Do important people hide around corners in government buildings just waiting for the opportune moment?
“It’s almost as if the alien mothership has some kind of-”
“-electron-pulse plasma forcefield, yes general, I took the liberty of entering the room and finishing your sentence so now everyone knows I’m the smart one around here.” Unfortunately it never works for me, though hopefully the next time I blurt: ‘ham sandwich!’ as I enter a room, it WILL make sense. I probably should increase my odds and walk into more delicatessens.
7. Gangs of ruffians never co-ordinate their attacks very well
I don’t condone wanton violence, nor gang affiliation… but nor do I condone a lack of respect for teamwork and role-based coordination tactics. So many attempted beat downs are thwarted because a lack of tactical cohesion completely nullifies the numerical advantage. Instead of gathering around in a circle and going in one at a time for a routine cycle of butt-kicking – why not pool your resources and attack with purpose? Guy in sleeveless leather jacket can feign a frontal attack to draw the target’s attention, opening up for a simultaneous pincer strike on the flanks from guy with shaved head and guy with bandana. While they close in, guy with metal pole can sweep low and take the legs out from under the target where they will be vulnerable to a good’n’proper stompin’. See street toughs of Hollywood? It’s not so hard.
8. Police think a car door is a bulletproof shield
Why? Why do cops do that?! Do they realise the baddies are firing lumps of lead at a really high velocity?! Unless you’re patrolling the streets in a Sherman tank, a car door isn’t actually going to stop a volley of bullets. You might as well hide behind a tissue.
9. People hold torches funny
A torch (or, ‘flashlight’) doesn’t seem like the kind of object that requires any technique to use. You just kind of, point it and… not drop it… but the folks of Hollywood seem loathe to hold it any other way than next to the temple, with elbows pointed down. I suppose you could consider it the coolest way to point a torch – but you don’t always have to look cool, especially if all you’re doing is trudging knee deep in human refuse as you investigate the town’s sewers at night for whatever ominous reasons.
10. All doors can be opened by shooting them
Fair enough, I were packing heat, ‘shoot it’ would also rank high on my list of troubleshooting solutions to overcome various problems, like say a jammed printer, a tight jar lid, a loud neighbour or even a locked door. But, would it actually work? Locks can be pretty hardcore these days, I’d be more worried about the slug ricocheting back into my groin from the 30cm distance at which I shot the stupid thing. Yeah, not a smart idea, better call a locksmith.
11. Looking at a photograph will change a character’s mind
They say a picture is a thousand words, to which every screenwriter in the business replies, ‘thank fuck for that’. In Hollwoodland, photographs are extra-super-mega persuasive and prolonged staring at an old photo of the family you once had will definitely thrust you into the third act guns blazing – figuratively and most probably literally.
12. Cops don’t take suspensions very seriously
I’m beginning to think that ‘You’re off the case’ is some sort of police code for: ‘Please continue the investigation, and make sure lots of things explode along the way’.
13. Dudes in suits are really awesome at fighting
This one I know a bit about, because I am both really, really good at fighting and also look really, really good in a suit. But, for reasons of restricted mobility and a little thing called Saville Row stitching, I refuse to combine the two – even if shit goes down at the charity ball. Disappoint the babes I may, but It’s simply impossible to execute an exemplary roundhouse kick in tapered trousers, and a bespoke Hugo Boss might look killer, but doesn’t make you killer. It’s also really hard to run at top speed in Italian loafers, so I don’t know who these try-hard suave Hollywood action men think they’re kidding.
14. The Wilhelm scream is really annoying
What was once a long-running inside joke in the film business has become a real pain in the aural receptors. The famous Wilhelm Scream appears in just about every mainstream Hollywood movie produced ever. I can barely sit through a blockbuster movie these days without the uncomfortable expectation of hearing that distinctive warbled cry clawing away in the back of my head. They could have at least recorded a semi-realistic scream; ‘Wilhelm’ sounds more like someone who fell in the toilet than a man who just received a bullet to the chest.
15. “I’m getting too old for this shit”
“Let’s get out of here”; “I’ve got a bad feeling about this”; “Get me the President”; “The monster is headed downtown”; “No, it’s too dangerous”; “Hold it right there”; “I’m hit! Go on without me”… So much lazy, lazy dialogue just won’t go away. I can honestly promise that I’ve never actually said any of these phrases in real life… well, except for in moments of extreme passion, and then it’s pretty much word-for-word in that order…
16. Profane old ladies are hilarious
No they are not. They just aren’t. A sweet old lady flipping the bird, swearing or laying down some ebonic trash-talk for ‘shock humour’ is not funny. Not even remotely. So, stop it. Now… Adam Sandler. Bad Adam Sandler!
17. If you own a fruit stall – a car WILL crash through it
It’s just a matter of time.
18. Electronic devices are noisy
Generally, if something electronic starts making noises, it’s most likely faulty and will probably electrocute someone. Unless of course it was programmed to make glitchy beeps and boops and crackles every time it is used. Though, why every high-tech piece of covert espionage equipment would be programmed to make more of a clamour than a startled R2-D2 is just too far a stretch for my logic.
19. There are commentators at children’s sports games
Despite the head injuries, I still remember my junior sporting days and NOT ONCE was there a card table and microphone set up for some play-by-play commentary of my team’s most nail-biting of encounters, 1998 under-12s grand final penalty shootout epic included. Though, if Hollywood were to believe every junior sports game features fully-fledged referees, grandstands and professional commentary. We were lucky if one of the mums remembered it was her turn to bring the oranges.
20. Batman can’t turn his head properly
This gets to me every time. Every stinking time! Get a more flexible suit already, you silly billionaire orphan!
What are you Really Saying? III: Ye Olde Editione
Posted: February 15, 2013 Filed under: Language, Lists | Tags: england, english, idioms, langauge, origins, phrases, sayings 1 Comment »A glance at the words of Geoffrey Chaucer and you’d be well-forgiven for thinking the English spoken a few centuries ago has as much in common with today as Ancient Etruscan. Though, it’s sometimes surprising how often we’ll blurt something out and not even realise that our pantaloon-wearing, lute-playing ancestors were saying the exact same things. See Part I and Part II
Pay through the nose
“Grab my wallet, I’m going to sneeze!’
Today’s meaning: To pay an unreasonably high price for something
A pub-stool guru would boast how this phrase goes right back to ninth-century Ireland, whereupon the conquering Danish armies had issued a rather creative form of oppressive taxation dubbed the ‘nose tax’. The story is, that if a plucky native refused to cough up to Olaf, he’d have his Guinness-soaked nose introduced to the business end of a Danish blade. Unfortunately(well, not for the Irish) there’s bugger-all evidence of that ever happening. Instead, this phrase may have arrived by way of more natural etymological evolution. In the 17th century, the word ‘rhino’ was popular slang for money, much like ‘clam’ or ‘quid’ is today. Similarly at the time, ‘to bleed’ was lose or extort a lot of money, a term still used today. Those acquainted with plastic surgery probably also know that rhino is Greek for nose. And those acquainted with blunt force blows to the face know that noses are inclined to bleed. Put these elements together and to lose a lot of money through regrettable circumstances is to ‘pay through the nose’.
Make no bones about it
Might just stick to the bread tonight…
Today’s meaning: To make something straightforward and problem-free
For many a goode olde Englishemane, a warm hearty broth in the public house was a welcome respite to the end of a hard day spent shovelling horse shit off the crowded London streets. The simplicity of stews, broths and others meaty soup concoctions made them a ubiquitous meal for common folk of the middle-ages. Though, the lack of culinary finesse sometimes meant the broths were swimming with chunks of bone and cartilage and other inedible animal bits. Not that it’d completely deter a famished Englishman – it just made it quite difficult to eat. So, when there were no bones in the soup, it was a good, easy, satisfying meal. And so, ‘no bones’ came to mean ‘no problems’, as in: ‘Well, you’re lucky that today he had no bones about it… but it might be a different story to-marrow!’ (sorry, I really had to put that pun in, by whatever means necessary. I regret nothing!).
Fits to a T
“Here I come to save the day… again!”
Today’s meaning: Something that suits a particular style or model perfectly, in fine detail
This phrase comes all the way from the 1600s, which pre-dates the common belief that it refers to the T-square (a geometry drawing tool). It’s most likely that ‘fitting to a ‘t’’ was shorthand for ‘fitting to a tittle’, a line used in a play, which surprisingly had nothing to do with comfortable brassieres, but rather the little dot that hovers above a lower case ‘i’ – known to the few feckless souls who would care about knowing such a thing, as the tittle. Figuratively, it was used to emphasise a meticulous level of detail; thoroughness all the way down to the tiniest dot, a fine point. Eventually the phrase became used more to describe a perfect fit, rather than just a comprehensive analysis.
Put up your dukes
“You’re in for a jolly good hurting, sir.”
Today’s meaning: raising your fists in preparation for a fight
If someone told you to ‘put up your dukes’, you’d first-of-all realise you’re about to do pugilism; and second-of-all wonder how you teleported through time to a tavern-side alley in 1940s America. The term, though, dates way back to Georgian era cockney rhyming slang. When two geezers were about to throw down, the’d taunt: ‘put up your forks (fingers)’ ,which became ‘put up your Dukes of Yorks’ and later simply ‘dukes’. Fisticuffs has always been a tradition ripe with slang, as seen in Samuel E. Chamberlain’s 1859 memoir My Confession, where he eloquently describes beating the snot out of someone: “I landed a stinger (punch) on his potatoe trap (mouth) with my left duke (fist), drawing the claret (blood) and sending him to grass.(floor)”. Even today, many refer to their fists as ‘dukes’, in preparation to ‘duke it out’, though I may have been a bit literal naming mine ‘Arthur Wessesley’ and ‘Rolf the Ganger Ragnvaldsson’. Just don’t mess with Arty and Rolf.
Keen as mustard
Rarely will you see a more appetising sandwich. Browns and yellows in delicious harmony.
Today’s meaning: to be especially eager
Many would have you believe this common simile developed from the famous Keen’s Mustard brand that was founded in 1742, however, the saying existed even earlier than that. Much like today, Ye Olde England was a drizzle-soaked isle obsessed with roast beef, mustard and despising the French. There is much evidence of this in the many contemporary cultural references, such as Richard Leveridge’s brilliant 1735 song ‘Roast beef of old England’ – “When mighty Roast Beef Was the Englishman’s food / It ennobled our brains/ And enriched our blood…” And roast beef wasn’t roast beef back then without the accompanying mustard – the real, nostril-burningly, yellowy spreadable-death stuff. The zestiness of the hugely popular condiment soon became a handy metaphor for a person who was particularly intense or eager, and remains so to this day.
Skeleton in the closet
“The charcoal grey or the burgundy today, sir?”
Today’s meaning: A hidden secret of someone’s past, generally something unseemly
Those who have skeletons in their closets are either keepers of a macabre secret, or really, really bad at the ‘seek’ part of hide-and-go-seek. The presumed origin of this phrase is your standard 17th century visceral ghastliness, when a burgeoning fascination in anatomical study and dissection swept through Europe’s enlightened academe. The doctors and surgeons of the time didn’t have access to the textbooks and cadavers that today’s medical students do, and so, unburied human corpses were quite the prize. If a doctor was lucky enough to come across a free dead body (entirely feasible back then), they’d then go to great lengths to conceal it for personal study, rather than share or give over to superiors. It became assumed that around that time, quite a few doctors had a secret skeleton stuffed away in a cupboard. Another (more believable) theory traces the phrase to Gothic novels, where the ‘skeleton in the closet’ was no more than a clever and creative plot allusion to a character’s past misdeeds, specifically murder. But the doctors cramming dead bodies in their cupboards explanation is way more amusing.
Memories of a Half-Lifetime: Top Four Atomic Tourist Destinations
Posted: June 10, 2012 Filed under: Lists, Thoughts | Tags: atomic bomb, Bikini atoll, Cold War, Enola Gay, Hiroshima, Japan, Las Vegas Nevada, Nuclear weapons testing Leave a comment »Tourism is an odd business. At worst it’s pure exploitation of nature, at best it’s pure exploitation of human naivety. Yet, even though the industry still vacuums up billions of dollars from the same, worn-out old rug, there are – thankfully – abundant touristic delights for those of us whose travel taste-buds crave more than just a trip to Disneyland and a photo of a red telephone booth. Perhaps instead of crumbling castles and giant boulders, sir may wish to see radioactive wastelands and the desolate remnants of atomic destruction? Well, sir will be delighted to know sir’s wishes may be granted. Two tickets please!
Las Vegas, USA (circa 1950s)
The winner of the 1947 Miss A-Bomb pageant said she “had a blast”. PHOTO: reviewjournal.com
The golden age of the isotope (or should that be the pulsating, glowy green age?) was undoubtedly lived out in the barren expanse of the Nevada Desert during the 1950s. A vast and dreadfully unlucky strip of Nevada land was selected by US President Harry Truman in 1950 to commence testing of newer, more powerful versions of the atomic weapons unleashed upon Japan half a decade earlier.
As the military went about their business, some 100 kilometres up the road in the fledging town of Las Vegas, home to a couple of casinos and a bank run my Mormons, people began to gaze in awe at the gigantic mushroom clouds climbing into the atmosphere from the distance. It didn’t take long for the entrepreneurial Las Vegans see dollar signs amongst the fallout from these atomic tests and immediately cashed in. You could even say it was a atom split-second decision, if you are lame. Which I am. Anyhow, soon people streamed into Las Vegas from all over for the best view of a real atomic explosion this side of a top secret military bunker. Between 1951 and 1962, a new bomb was detonated every three weeks and each occasion was heavily advertised and wildly popular. Hotels offered special package deals, bars mixed up atomic-themed cocktails and there was even a regular Miss Atomic Bomb beauty contest. The mushroom cloud was the unofficial coat of arms forLas Vegas, known during the period as ‘Atomic City’. Thankfully, there is a museum today dedicated to this fascninating peculiar period. Definitely worth a visit when you’re done gambling your life’s savings and wedding a stranger.
A particularly intriguing twist in this most unlikely of spectator sports, was that the US government actively encouraged the mass gawking at their military testing project, rather than react with a level of paranoia typical of the early Cold War period. The tests were scheduled for when the weather would allow a good view and not (hopefully) rain caustic acid upon the paying audience. Part of the government’s motivation was to allow the enterprising Vegas hype machine to whip up such excitement amongst the crowd so they would overlook the fact that atomic bombs were heinous creations of civilisation-threatening annihilation. But hey, with a rooftop panorama of the Nevada sky illuminated by the majestic burst of gamma radiation and two-for-one ‘megaton’ cocktails, who’s complaining?
Chenobyl, Ukraine
The best thing about Pripyat Fun Park is the lack of queues! PHOTO: Rare Delights
No trip to the Ukraine is complete without a Hazmat suit, Geiger counter and a hefty stick to protect yourself from possible mutant assailants. Since 2011, the Ukranian government has allowed tours to operate through the ghastly remains of the infamous 1986 Chernobyl nuclear meltdown. Incidently, the Ukranians’ decision to turn a dollar from the tragic and still radioactive site was made barely two months before the Fukushimi disaster in Japan rocked a world that had almost forgotten the spectre of nuclear catastrophe.
Chernobyl was a colossal disaster, in terms of both immediate human suffering, and mismanaged crisis recovery efforts. Two massive explosions ripped Chernobyl’s number four reactor inside-out and spewed clouds of radiation roughly equivalent to about 400 Hiroshima bombs into the vicinity. Most of the 176 workers in the facility died instantly, the rest died shortly after in hospitals and tens of thousands (some estimate even hundreds of thousands) more died over time from radiation-induced illnesses and cancer. As far as disasters go, Chernobyl is certainly one of the big’uns.
The tragedy and Soviet-era secrecy intrigue absolutely steeps the place in spooky folklore and mystery. The small town of Pripyat which sat almost atop the power plant is now as creepy a ghost town as you could possibly imagine. Its 50,000 residents were immediately evacuated, leaving behind the irradiated city frozen in time. It is now officially located in the B-grade sci-fi sounding ‘zone of alienation’. Tour groups have just begun to take visitors in and out of both Pripyat and the reactor site itself. After waivers are signed, guides whisk visitors around the site, issuing strict instructions not to touch anything or to stay in one spot for too long. At all times the Geiger counters are closely inspected and when the needle starts to jump, its time to leg it out of there. After the reactor site, tourists are then able to stroll the abandoned streets, schools and apartments of Pripyat and see why it is an apt setting for urban legends about citizens who refused to evacuate and now live as twisted, bloodthirsty mutants. If its disaster-zone-nuclear-cold-war-soviet-creepy-as-shit tourism you’re after, look no further than not-quite-cheery Chernobyl.
Hiroshima, Japan
If walls could talk… the A-Bomb Dome’s would probably be still screaming. PHOTO: Me.
“My God, what have we done?’ uttered Captain Robert Lewis, co-pilot of the Enola Gay after he saw the vile plume of decimation from the atomic bomb that his Commander, Paul Tibbets, had just dropped onto the Japanese city of Hiroshima at exactly 8.15am, August 6, 1945. Lewis, Tibbets and the other flight crew from that world-changing mission weren’t the only ones to witness the frightening power of the world’s first atomic weapon attack, because also in the skies that morning was another aircraft whose sole objective was to photograph the carnage. Unlike the affable, margarine brand-sounding Enola Gay – that plane was ominously christened Necessary Evil.
The infamous mushroom cloud photographs taken from aboard Necessary Evil only told half the story. The blast instantly levelled everything within a one mile radius, and ignited a wicked blaze that engulfed the entire city. It’s estimated around 70 per cent of Hiroshima’s buildings were destroyed and around 66,000 people died within the first few minutes, meanwhile another 70,000 succumbed to horrible burns and injuries. The suffering dragged on as thousands and thousands more slowly capitulated to the effects of radiation. Some estimate that by 1950, around 200,000 people had died as a result of the bombing. Most of them civilians. Three days after Hiroshima was hit, Nagasaki tasted the same dreadful fate.
America’s A-bomb did successfully end the war, but surprisingly it didn’t end Hiroshima. Somehow the city persevered, even when a massive typhoon swept through merely one month later brining more destruction and misery. The rebuilding effort was valiantly swift – but great care was taken to preserve the poignant reminders of that fateful day. Today, Hiroshimais a thriving, youthful and invigorated city. If it weren’t for the Hiroshima Peace Park memorial, you’d never have expected it to be the place where an atomic bomb had once been detonated. The Peace Park allows visitors to witness firsthand the surviving remnants of the blast, beginning with the ‘A-Bomb Dome’, the twisted manglement of concrete and streel of a former convention hall, which stood almost directly beneath the hypocentre of the explosion. Further on are dozens of monuments lined by trees that miraculously survived and continue to grow with huge scars on one side. Other notable sights include the eternally-burning flame that will only be extinguished when all nuclear weapons on earth are disarmed; the Children’s Peace Monument, a statue that is dedicated to the child victims of the bombing and is festooned with colourful paper cranes in tribute to Sadako Sadaki; and the cenotaph, upon which the names the victims and the words: ‘Rest In Peace, for the error shall not be repeated’ are inscribed.
The general mood, however, is not of blame or lamentation, but hope and peace. The Memorial Museum also carries this sentiment. Amongst the chilling artefacts left behind (such as the watches found stopped at 8.15, and the eerie shadows on walls left by bodies incinerated by the massive pulse of heat and light) are copies of letters sent each year by the mayor of Hiroshima to world leaders, urging them to think twice about nuclear weapons. There is also a very frank and informative account of the Manhattan Project, and the rueful experience it had left on its leading scientists, including Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenheimer.
The incredible thing about Hiroshima isthat in spite of the sadness and turmoil defining its past, you’ll struggle to find a more welcoming and enjoyable place in all of Japan. The Peace Park and Museum is certainly a poignant, tear-inducing memorial to the atomic disaster, but the pervading attitude of positivity and hope inspires this energetic appreciation for humanity inside you that simply cannot be experienced anywhere else. Beyond the Memorial Park, Hiroshima doesn’t wallow, but bursts with life. The city centre bustles with activity day and night; the beloved Hiroshima Carp baseball team are worshipped by loyal (and patient) fans; and you frankly haven’t lived until you’ve tasted the city’s famous okinomiyaki fresh off the hotplate in a busy little bar. In any case, Hiroshima is an excellent destination but it just so happens to be one of the most important historical sites off all time. At this point I’ll stop myself short of saying ‘it’s the bomb, because that would just be tasteless, which is certainly not a word used to describe okinomiyaki. with its special batter, and tasty sauces… (Well I managed to be serious and on-topic for a while, but now I’m just hungry.)
Bikini Atoll
Nothing says: ‘tropical paradise’ like a huge gaping crater of radiation.
Ladies, the next time you toss in the old two-piece bikini to your suitcase, be it itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie, yellow and/or polka-dotted, reflect for a moment that the name of your swimsuit exists because of an enormous nuclear explosion on a remote Pacific paradise. Between 1946 and 1958, the United States tested 23 different nuclear weapons in Bikini Atoll, a small sandy islet amongst the Marshall Islands, in middle of the Pacific Ocean. The tests coincided with the introduction a saucy new swimsuit, which split the existing onepiece in two, creating a reaction amongst the conservative public comparable to when an atom is split in two. And so the name stuck. Like radiation particles to an unfortunate Pacific native.
The Bikini population were relocated to other islands for the tests, though some still suffered radiation poisoning from fallout. The tests were more controversial than other nuclear tests because they were not only conducted off the United States’ mainland shores, but on a tiny, innocent, tropical paradise of all places. It was absurd to imagine an idyllic island escape with crystalline blue waters skirting white sands, palm trees, coconuts, and a big dirty mushroom cloud looming up the distance. But it happened. Twenty-three times. It was such a fictional concept that the Bikini Atoll tests even spawned the inspiration for the legendary Godzilla films .
In 201o, Bikini Atoll attained UNESCO World Heritage Site status, however it’s still deemed uninhabitable because of dangerous radiation levels. The native citizens remain displaced on nearby islands, compensated by the US Government. But even though you can’t live there, you can still pay a quick visit. Boat tours from Hawaii operate diving trips for keen scuba enthusiasts throughout the Marshall Islands. One particular tour allows you to explore the waters of Bikini Aroll. The biggest draw for divers is the vast number of sunken American and Japanese WWII ships that were used as targets (including the only submeged aircraft carrier in the world). Many also enjoy seeing the abundant species of three-eyed fish , and the enormous mutated-lizardlike abomination lying dormant in wait for the day it besieges Tokyo. Divers are kindly asked not to poke the beast.
SOURCES:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/lasvegas/peopleevents/e_atomictourism.html http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/ukraine/8363569/Chernobyl-The-toxic-tourist-attraction.html http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2002/aug/06/nuclear.japan http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/50668 http://www.bikiniatoll.com/history.html http://www.atomictourist.com/bikini.htm
