WASTELAND (Working Title)
Treatment for a Documentary
Burt Kempner 

The following is a work in progress. It is a First Draft for the Environmental issue Global Deactivation of Radiation Corp. (www.gdr.org)


Perhaps the only thing approaching the scariness of the threat of nuclear war is the reality of nuclear peace.

The WASTELAND we're about to visit didn't spring from the imagination of T.S. Eliot. It is superimposed instead on our air, our waterways and soil, and, all too often, our backyards. Host Martin Sheen will conduct us on a one-hour tour of this invisible threat to the health and well-being of ourselves, our children and the future viability of our planet.

The symbolic mushroom cloud has lost much of its power to haunt our sleep. With the dissolution of the former Soviet Union, a collective sigh of relief was felt around the world, as the perceived threat of nuclear war receded into the distance. Such complacency is highly premature. Russia and its former satellites still command an imposing arsenal, developing nations are rushing to join the arms race and the threat of nuclear terrorism is ever-present. Until the idea of nuclear warfare becomes globally unthinkable, the peril is powerful and real.

But most of the dangers we're going to explore in WASTELAND are less obvious. Many otherwise idyllic small and medium-sized towns across the United States are sitting on potential time bombs. You don't have to live next door to a nuclear power plant to be at risk from radiation contamination. Toxic clouds from reactors are blown for miles. Water with unacceptable levels of radiation enters the ground water. Agricultural products grown in tainted soil are sold in supermarkets throughout America.

The sources of harmful radiation are many: nuclear reactors and their by-products, bomb sites, nuclear submarines, manufacturing, uranium and coal mines, waste shipments, medical wastes and even airplanes. In the first decade of this century, NASA plans to launch eight space shuttles carrying deadly plutonium; the agency says that thanks to advanced technology, the chance of an accident is almost non-existent, yet a simple human error sent a spacecraft crashing onto the surface of Mars.

Spent nuclear fuels fill holding bays and reservoirs to the brim. Trucks and trains carrying radioactive wastes crisscross the country, subject to accident, weather and terrorists. The combination of aging reactors and inexperienced operators lead some scientists to ponder the nightmare of multiple meltdowns.

Billions of tax dollars have been spent to sweep the problem under the carpet. Hardly anything has been allocated to remedy it. WASTELAND will lay out the problem in full, and if the viewing audience is shocked, angered and frightened in the process -- good, that was the intention.

But the news is by no means all bad. We will also explore some intriguing new approaches to radiation deactivation: natural radiation detectors (including spiderwort, wheatgrass, sunflower plants and powder-activated charcoal); natural transmutation agents (radiation-gobbling microbes, citric acid, etc.); artificial transmutation agents (sound waves, light waves, ultra high-frequency waves); and methods of recycling spent fuels. We will meet the men and women who are devoting themselves to finding remedies before a potential hazard becomes a catastrophe.

Some of these approaches show great promise, but they are not the ultimate answer. We will only rid ourselves of the dangers by an outpouring of popular support and a firm display of popular will. Pressure must be put on governments around the world to find alternative ways to settle conflicts and provide energy.

We conclude with a montage of idyllic scenes of Americana. "This is the Wasteland," says the narrator. "When its threat no longer exists, nothing will have changed -- to the eye, at least. But everything will be different. Will we use our creativity to banish the Wasteland, or will we shrug it into supremacy?" Each preceding scene reappears, turns into a negative image of itself and fades. We are left with only the sound of a Geiger counter strongly, insistently clicking.