ALL THE PEOPLE IN CHINA (The China Bomb)

WHEN I was five years old my Dad told me something which scared the
living shit out of me, and - looking back - I can still see why: "If
all the people in China," he said, "were to suddenly jump into the air
at once, the shockwaves caused by their landing would be strong enough
to destroy the world."
Now, I can't vouch as to the scientific authenticity of this, and -
since it has never actually happened - neither can science, but
throughout my life it has been a constant source of imaginative
speculation for me.
Consider the implications; to a five year old kid they were pretty
serious. 'What if,' I wondered each night in that lonely period before
sleep, just as the theme from 'Mash' was starting up from the living
room downstairs, 'the Chinese military were to employ this tactic?' . .
. They would have at their disposal a weapon not only more devastating
than any weapon previously created, but also one that could be employed
without breaking the economy. If any other nation were to interfere
with their political aspirations, they could have an immediate and
nullifying response: "Back off, or we`ll all jump into the air at
once."
But what if this new weapon were to be used for more than a simple line
in the sand? What if China's political stance were to shift to one of
global domination? . . . It would be a simple task of co-ordinating the
efforts, persuading the dissenters, waiting for the appropriate
political justification, then . . . All-together-now!
I remember learning about the extinction-potential of nuclear weapons
one day at school, Second Year. We were shown a video tape full of
graphic black-and-white movie-reel from Hiroshima . . . Images of
nuclear mushrooms in the Mojave Desert, houses turned to splinters by
the breath of The Bomb. I also remember - upon arriving home - asking
my mother what a nuclear holocaust would be like, and did we have a
bomb shelter, and should we paint ourselves white? She replied that it
had been upon her generation that the threat had been most severe, and
that the generation I lived in was much safer than any previous . . .
And no, we did not have a bomb shelter, or any white paint, for that
matter. I remember thinking how wrong she was . . . My mother might
have had to live with the fear that a nuclear device could shatter her
world at any time, but I had to contend with the idea that two billion
Chinese people might suddenly receive the order from their government
to propel themselves into the air as high as possible at exactly the
same time.
My postulations on this unlikely spectre of doom gained (or so it
seemed to my fragile pubescent brain) some foundation, when - in 1982 -
I returned home from school, threw myself onto the carpet in front of
the TV, flicked on in anticipation of 'Gilbert's Fridge,' and instead
found myself confronted with a screen full of thousands upon thousands
of people all rippling in some weird, synchronised motion. My first
thought was that the Apocalypse had arrived, and cameras were
transmitting the first scenes of the moment when all of China became
airborne, before the shockwave had even reached us, before the skies
split open, before the tsunami struck, before the earth was torn from
its axis. These thoughts were dismissed a second later when the camera
cut to ground zero, and it became apparent that it was nothing more
than an attempt at the World Record for the greatest number of people
to engage in synchronous tap-dancing.
I wasn't convinced. 'Perhaps,' I mused, 'that's what they want us to
think . . . Maybe what's really happening is that our government has
finally caught a whiff of this Chinese threat to the world, and is in
training for a retaliatory assault?'
And who better to lead that assault than Roy Castle?
I could picture it quite clearly, a multi-national strike force gearing
up to dispel this Far-East threat. I could imagine the world leaders
(China excluded, of course) all convening for a 'World Response To The
China Bomb Threat' summit . . . Everyone arguing what to do: . . .
Charles De Gaulle suggests capital investment by Western shoe
manufacturers to provide China with shoes made so badly no one will be
able to jump, Margaret Thatcher suggests building a six-foot roof over
China, scientists come up with an idea to introduce muscle debilitating
chemicals into the Chinese water supply . . . A thousand flashbulbs
blaring as each of the world leaders sign the piece of paper which
means war. And throughout this all, the Chinese, watching quietly from
the wings, smiling knowingly at the blustering, the panic, the
indecisiveness, because they know that they hold all the cards. If
someone says 'boo' they'll jump.
A no-win scenario, though . . . If China were ever to jump, wouldn't
there be the possibility that they might destroy their own Land of the
Rising Sun in the process? And even if this didn't happen, where's the
fun in ruling over an empty world? Granted, the Chinese would still
exist, but what's the point in being a bully, if there's no-one left to
bully? Does that even mean you're a bully anymore?
Anyway, to date, this calamity has not occurred. Let us hope and pray
that it never does. Let us put forward this plea: Think of the world,
citizens of China . . . Think of the world as it is, and think of the
world which you might inherit . . . Look to your children, and the
consequences of your actions upon them . . . Look inside yourselves, if
ever the message comes through. Hesitate; look deep inside as the
countdown begins . . . Look not to your leaders, and their selfish
political hearts, but to your own hearts, your people, our people . . .
The human people. We implore you, China, to look.
Before you leap.