#Security

Armament is a theme park attraction where states display the flashiest toys of war, boasting of triggers that only they can pull. They claim to ensure safety, yet flood neighboring countries with ornamental cannons that disturb even distant villagers' sleep. The true enemy is the insecurity and vanity that weapons themselves engender, and every treaty is but a sleight of hand to conceal that reality. As the count of armaments grows, someone’s future is inexorably chipped away. The spectacle of gear meant to prevent war thriving like a stage set awaiting conflict is a modern tragicomedy.

Arms control is a theater where nations peer into each other's arsenals while praying for peace. It is a ritual of exchanging certificates of trust and at the same time laying the groundwork for the next arms race. Treaties are monsters with paper spines—giving comfort when signed and returning to scraps when broken. One might call it a farcical tightrope walk between ideals and reality.

An arms race, n. The act of hoarding ever more weapons to loudly proclaim one’s security. Yet each weapon serves as a bat signal, summoning neighbors to mimic the same performance. Intended to guarantee safety, it instead amplifies mutual fear until no one emerges victorious in this grand farce.