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My first, and last, job was for the now defunct Hercules explosives plant in northern NJ. I was hired part-time as a teenager to sort old medical files for destruction in a decrepit unheated building called the 'bag house' because it stored files in big moldy canvas bags dumped on the building floor. Left there alone into the night with a kerosene heater and a single light I had to sort these dumped piles of files by date, each of which included a photo. And as I began sorting these I quickly noticed something. These were all records of workers--all men--who had died of the same set of related ailments associated with graphite exposure, mostly black lung or lung cancers. File after file, black lung, black lung, cancer, cancer, face after face. Thousands of men dying in this filthy old factory making explosives to kill other people somewhere else in the world, all for someone else's profit. I realized what a horrible meat grinder this all was. It was a bit much for a teenager to handle and I only lasted about a month. I swore I would never work for a corporation again if there was some way to avoid it, ultimately starting a business of my own. (not much choice, really, New Jersey's pollution ultimately wrecked my own health so self-employment was my only option)
One of the bizarre ironies about the explosives business I learned there was that the Saudi government was very particular about the 'purity' of the nitrocellulose they would buy from the company. To meet their standards--for killing people properly--it had to be Kosher certified...
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[–] EricHunting ago
My first, and last, job was for the now defunct Hercules explosives plant in northern NJ. I was hired part-time as a teenager to sort old medical files for destruction in a decrepit unheated building called the 'bag house' because it stored files in big moldy canvas bags dumped on the building floor. Left there alone into the night with a kerosene heater and a single light I had to sort these dumped piles of files by date, each of which included a photo. And as I began sorting these I quickly noticed something. These were all records of workers--all men--who had died of the same set of related ailments associated with graphite exposure, mostly black lung or lung cancers. File after file, black lung, black lung, cancer, cancer, face after face. Thousands of men dying in this filthy old factory making explosives to kill other people somewhere else in the world, all for someone else's profit. I realized what a horrible meat grinder this all was. It was a bit much for a teenager to handle and I only lasted about a month. I swore I would never work for a corporation again if there was some way to avoid it, ultimately starting a business of my own. (not much choice, really, New Jersey's pollution ultimately wrecked my own health so self-employment was my only option)
One of the bizarre ironies about the explosives business I learned there was that the Saudi government was very particular about the 'purity' of the nitrocellulose they would buy from the company. To meet their standards--for killing people properly--it had to be Kosher certified...
[–] newoldwave [S] ago
Kosher bombs...how considerate.