Word: tellers
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...then he stopped his principal attacker, a long-haired student in an army jacket, glasses, and jeans named Tom Ward, and forced him to answer the question, "Do you really care about what motivates me?" Ward said yes, quietly, and Teller began his life story-again...
...talked about how he entered science for the love of science. About his belief in the fundamental neutrality of scientific research (a new placard read: "The War Criminal as Poet: The Hydrogen Bomb came from the sun and the stars).')" About another typical Teller theme-war. "If there is a World War III, it will be more horrible than any of us can imagine. But it will not be the end of the human race. It will be the end of freedom, real liberalism, and reason." (The latest placard echoed: "The War Criminal as War Criminal: 'We Must Prepare...
THEN CAME his revelation. Leo Szilard, he said, wrote him while he was working on the bomb at Los Alamos, asking his help to "prevent killing by the atomic bomb." Szilard asked Teller to sign and circulate a petition for a demonstration-only use of the bomb. "I fully and heartily agreed," Dr. Teller said. "Unfortunately, I did what I thought was supposed to do. I took the piece of document to the director of the laboratory (the late Dr. Oppenheimer), who told me, 'Szilard is using his influence as a scientist to influence political decisions. This is wrong...
Later Dr. Richard Noviek, of the Public Health Research Institute for New York City, presented Dr. Teller with the Strangelove Award "on behalf of his excellent imitation of Peter Sellers.' It was a ten-inch silver statue of a man aiming a gun and inscribed, "I was just following orders." Dr. Teller rose and announced with mock humility that he had received many awards in his lifetime, "many of them also undeserved." But he had never refused one. And then, muttering more about inconsistency, he refused this one and plopped it back down in front of Dr. Novick with...
THAT evening, Dr. Teller agreed to meet with some of the S. E. S. P. A. people, and anyone else who happened by, in a tiny, gray, glaringly lit bedroom somewhere in the dim innards of the Conrad Hilton. His bodyguards were relegated to the hallway, playing cards, while a mixture of radicals and others, totaling twenty or so, crowded into the room which Teller, with his enormous frame, dominated easily. The session appeared to be chaired by a lady in heavy makeup whose main job seemed to be keeping tempers cool...