In Response: Duluth now the pro-nuclear armageddon capital of the world

I find it great that DUluth (with DU capitalized as an acronym for Depleted Uranium) finally opened itself up to being a welcoming town to the scourge of nuclear death. How outstanding that DUluth is 50 years behind but finally settling the question by becoming outstandingly pro-nuclear apocalypse (“ Duluth resolution for nuclear treaty fails ,” March 15).

Ah, the winters and despair will get only better, friends, for the fizzing leukemia after each whiff of nuclear snowstorm, which will be more pure than anything the Bezos Whole Foods co-op will sell. The fallout clothing profits to be won by the Duluth Trading Company and the multitude of petty-bourgeoisie hotels on the lakefront repurposed as fallout shelters will be worth more than one gasp.

I hope businesses are happy because this opens a brand new epoch for death tourism. Think cancer and radioactivity-immersion destinations. Expect to see the population shrivel up like bleached raisins, like the town Pompeii, and the lake burning with atmospheric garbage.

Thanks to those in the DFL (which would be better known as the Doomsday Fallout League) and GOP (the Radium Party), the gospel to every person will be spread about would-be tourists at DUluth’s ground zero suffering slow, gurgling, Nagasaki deaths. The happiest Minnesota Nice attitudes will not save you.

Everyone will be able to applaud the DUluth City Council for putting the radium in your cranium and for doling out the protonium.

The City Council, with its vote, literally dropped a bomb on all of us, making DUluth the pro-nuclear armageddon capital of the world. Councilors can be seen as a collective Major Kong, riding a bomb down Superior Street.

With its council’s vote, DUluth became a permanent terror and nuisance to everyone who is a peaceful bio-human and creature.

I need to sell T-shirts in DUluth reading, "I got this lousy T-shirt that falls off my searing radioactive skin." Oh, DUluth, you are the bomb.

Lucas Alan Dietsche is an adjunct professor in the Correspondence Education Program at Adams State University in Alamosa, Colorado, and a former poet laureate for Superior.