THE ENVIRO MENTAL 'stand-off.' riginal.
I don't class myself as a 'greenie' and I'm not bagging (not talkin' about the 'baggy greens' Ausssie cricketers) those who are. Incidently, I didn't go to the fireworks extravaganza in Melbourne New Years Eve-savour it-then leave mountains of bags,cans,etc behind to be cleaned up. But that's another kettle of fish I don't want to get hooked up on. I guess people were paid to clean-up. After all, if some netting, boxes,shipping containers, bit of oil n' stuff didn't get washed ashore in remote places etc Bear Grylls and other survival experts wouldn't be able to show us how to survive when we show up at these places after we get shipwrecked and not within a sea snake of a shred of 'something useful.' Just enough stuff to get by and get our strength up to 'tidy up' a bit. I heard of a guy who survived (he was a captain of a 'booze-filled' cruiser) by arranging 300 full cans of vodka spelling 'HELP YOURSELF FREE BOOZE' on the pristine sands of a deserted island he crashed into. The end result was that some pirates homed in in a helicopter. Took up the offer. It would have had a great safe ending had not the the pilot and all got so tiddly they took off,wobbled, and crashed next to the vodka cruiser! Where's Bear when you need him? He would have at least lectured on abstinence? I mean Robinson Cruiso would have gone 'starkers' without his 'talking ball' now wouldn't he? He got back to Hollywood didn't he? And they don't rubbish there.I'm not rubbishing the 'bag left behinders' or canning the 'can left behinders.' Or the 'past their use- by- date ship' sinker captains.They were/are quite adept at doing that themselves without my help. After all, where else can the fish live in relative luxury but in a top bunk in a dunked rusted hulk. Fish real estate sales persons' delight!
This is the point of this blog if anything can be salvaged. Incidently...how many 'aimless'/armless blogs like mine are set adrift out to see? That's another empty bottle of 'ish I guess. I don't think I've insulted or over- salted anyone so far so I'll get to the insaltation point. This is the scene. It regards mining country. It could be some new oilfield somewhere...anywhere. Some new/old gold diggings re-hashed...some new 'treasured' mineral torn out of the guts of a protesting already crippled mother earth pregnant with pollution. So alarmed at the ferocity she sends up waves of salty tears in a forlon hope someone will heed her agony. Australia: SCENE: A group of insignificant (to their mind set? land owners trying to form some sort of reconsiliation with a nearby open-cut mine owner). One landowner recites Dorothea Mackellar's second verse of 'My country.' can't reproduce it -COPYRIGHT. The mining magnate rocks up with his/her mining poem in reply to the plaintive voice of the teary land-owners.Soft evasive voice...the magnetic pull of a well- written poem.
MAGNATE (megaphone): " MY friends and landowners, I too wuv a sunscorched country...MY band of flattened hills...of rugged little miners...all dusty in their twills. WE...(me n' the powers that be) luv her far horizontals...her triangles an' her squares,perhaps I can give you jewellry?...a few thousand great BIG shares?...SPOUTING A LOAD OF RUBBISH? Digging into sensitive places that should be left ALONE? THAT'S the whole point of this blog. I got a feeling Bear is nodding vertically? His new book may be 'How to survive incompetence...'or...'How to set fire to indifference...' CHEERS..................