A Castle On The Shore

There is something culturally significant and alluring about the Australian coastline. Between its rugged southern cliffs and the tropical northern points lie a myriad of seductive sandy coves or stretches of long white beaches that spear the horizon like a comet in the night sky, bordered by thousands of miles of dunes with hues and shades to make a rainbow weep in despair at its own lack of beauty. 

The Aussie sun, sand and surf is infamous for its body beautiful, bronzed bathers but equally, more recently, for the less appealling 'beached whales' that accompany the army of eskys and umbrellas on most weekends and public holidays. But while the aesthetic lustre of naked skin and lustful curves becomes a rarer and less forgiving sight, some things will never change.

Since the earliest of times, small children have watched attentively as older siblings built sand castles that often resembled St Basil's Cathedral as if it were sculpted by a collaboration of Picasso and Dali in a fit of artistic chaos fuelled by a night of absinthe and opium. 

Adorned by whatever flotsam and jetsam happens to be scavenged from the shoreline, these remarkable constructions bear little resemblance to reality and, briefly, even seem to defy the laws of physics before being crushed by the youngest child as they pounce on the precariously teetering turrets in a cataclysmic demolition of 9/11 proportions. 

The juvenile engineers will scream with disdain and the adults quickly intervene to prevent retaliatory strikes from those armed with plastic pails and shovels. A grey haired mediator is appointed to assess ground zero and resolves to assist in the reconstruction effort, promising to "build it bigger and stronger and better than before".

All parties excitedly agree to the proposal, with the false hope that the mediator has some esoteric knowledge about the qualities of sand and water. The building phase resumes once more as the sounds of peace echo through the warm breeze, caress the ocean spray and frolic with the screech of gulls.

Solid foundations are mapped out and compacted by a hundred eager footsteps. Walls are built as thick as they are high, and a moat is dug wide enough for any suitably scaled clipper to navigate at sailing speed without fear of running aground.  An esky lid becomes the drawbridge, ensuring that  a two year old giant can view the progress without causing further havoc.

Turrets soar into the air, three and four pails high. A pail being the industry standard  measurement for feats of engineering in this environment. The ageing foreman takes on most of the critical labouring tasks himself and sends his minions scurrying down the shoreline and into the dunes to secure materials for the fortification of the great building.

Many grand and exotic paraphernalia are returned to site and are first shown to respective mothers and grandmothers for assessment. A grimace or look of disgust from the matriarchs are a signal of approval to the proud scavengers and only increase their enjoyment of this collaborative effort as they squeal with laughter at their daring insolence.

Nature is recycled in a way that even the gods could not have predicted. Crab limbs become cannons, pieces of shell that survived the tumbling across reefs are reborn as armour cladding for battlements, while cuttlefish remains form the many brattices and hoardings from which the army can defend the castle walls. Strips of seaweed are tied to twigs and placed high atop each turret to proudly announce the royal standard under which this city is protected.

A quarrel breaks out between the three boys over who should be king. As swords are drawn and duels challenged, a fair lady charms the would-be knights with her siren voice and proclaims that Queen Barbie of Malibu shall rule, promptly placing Her Majesty atop the largest building in the keep. 

The small guild of artisans stand back to admire their work and the foreman instructs the 2 year old giant how to dig away a small portion from the side of the moat and create a trench toward the ocean. 

With each consecutive wave lapping the shore, a trickle of water begins to emerge in the trench. Six waves later and the sea starts streaming into the moat as the sandsmiths jump and squeal and clap their hands in appreciation of the miracle unfolding before them.

Matriarchs of two eras are dragged from their comfortably reclined positions and begged to give attention to the grand design of the latest generation. Pleasantries and polite accolades are duly offered and received before life is allowed to return to its dull, but serene, talk of the latest health concerns for poor Aunt Sally.

Back to the new fortification protecting Australia's shores, the builders seemed to have moved onto new projects. The three boys taking the southern part of the kingdom for practising their swordsmanship and jousting skills while their two female counterparts attend to Queen Barbie, ensuring that the castle is appropriately fitted with everything Her Majesty desires. 

The two year old giant is given a royal pardon, appointed to be the city's sentry and allowed to wade through the moat on the promise to never touch the castle. 

As the warm afternoon becomes cooler with a shifting southerly breeze swirling sand around legs and into eyes, it is time to pack away the accoutrements of modern civilisation and bid the medieval fortress a fond farewell. 

With its creators carried away by horseless carriages that are unfamiliar to its own era, the empty relic stands forlornly on the beach like a discarded toy in a field.

In a few short hours the sun will set on this small human endeavour. The flags blown from their poles by gusts of wind, the tide creeping in and lashing away at every grain of sand in its foundations, with the towers eventually crumbling into ruin. 

By sunrise the next day, no trace of the thriving civilisation would remain where once Queen Barbie of Malibu ruled. 

The pride of humanity over its entire existence is simply no match for the endless humility of nature. 

A New World Religion Backed by the United Nations

This article was subsequently published at Online Opinion 
http://www.onlineopinion.com.au/view.asp?article=12002


The world is going barking mad with religiosity! While many of us feel that we have known this for a long time, it has always been difficult to find substantial evidence that wasn't countered by arguments of religious vilification.

However, I’m not talking about Islamic suicide bombers, Protestants vs Catholics in Ireland, the abhorrent members of Westboro Baptist Church, ‘pro-life’ radicals bombing abortion clinics, or any of the other examples of minority groups being less than good examples of the faiths they follow.

Instead, I would like to open your eyes to a new pervasive religion that is steadily growing and insidiously lurking in your community. If successful it will have a terrifying impact on the existence of life as we know it.

Regardless of your political views, spiritual beliefs, faith or lack thereof, please bear with me for a moment while I tell you a short story. Even if it sounds a bit familiar, please persevere.

This story is set on a unique world; a smallish blue-green environment with abundant vegetation and teeming with wondrous life forms on land, air and water. In this world, there is a sentient humanoid species who believe that their world has an undefinable, immeasurable and yet omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent and benevolent energy force that interacts with all life forms.

This force gives them life, nourishes, teaches and provides them with all that is needed to live well and, as if they were its own children, they call this force "Mother".

They recognise that Mother is an indivisible community of diverse and interdependent beings with whom they share a common destiny and to whom they must relate in ways that benefit Mother.

However, their world is confronted by an evil that is attempting to dominate and exploit Mother and other beings. This evil is causing severe destruction, degradation and disruption of the life-sustaining communities, processes and balances of Mother which now threatens the wellbeing and existence of many beings.

They are conscious that this destruction is also harmful to their own inner wellbeing and is offensive to the many faiths, wisdom traditions and indigenous cultures for whom Mother is sacred. These clans are acutely conscious of the critical importance and urgency of taking decisive, collective action to prevent the evil enemy causing impacts on Mother that threaten the wellbeing and survival of all species.

Sound familiar? No, it isn't the plot from James Cameron's blockbuster, Avatar - but the resemblance is not a mere coincidence. While Avatar has been justifiably compared to the historical and current issues of our own world, it now seems that the lines between fantasy and reality have blurred even further.

Apart from a few tweaks for syntax, everything above in italics is a direct quote from the Universal Declaration of the Rights of Mother Earth, which was passed in Bolivia on 22 April 2010 at the World People's Conference on Climate Change and the Rights of Mother Earth and has since made its way to the plenary floor (here and here) of the United Nations.

'Mother Earth' has been transformed from a metaphoric and mythical euphemism into pseudo-scientific woo! You have not entered the Twilight Zone; you are not watching a CGI enhanced movie; this is reality and the world is about to enshrine the beliefs of a new-age religion (or a revival of ancient mysticism) into legal rights on par with those of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Now, before you retort with “it's all about protecting the environment” or label me a shill for capitalism and corporate world domination, let me correct you. For the record, I am a staunch environmentalist. I believe in, and promote the protection of landscapes, habitats and species. I readily acknowledge that human activity is essentially bad for this world and that we need to curb our greed and consumerism. You will hear no argument from me on those facts.

But, that is NOT the point of this rant. What I object to is the use of pantheistic and Gaia inspired language that, if adopted on an international level in a legal treaty, will have the effect of making "Mother Earth" the new deity of a green-religion forced onto all of Earth's citizens.

No, I am not being overly dramatic. Read the details for yourself so that you can fully comprehend the implications. It is littered with religious undertones and metaphors that have enormous legal repercussions on every human being:

"we must establish systems for governing human behavior that recognize the inalienable rights of Mother Earth and of all beings that are part of her" and

"the fundamental freedoms and rights of Mother Earth and of all beings should be protected by the rule of law, and that the corresponding duties of human beings to respect and defend these rights and freedoms should be enforced by law"

Such statements, when taken to their natural conclusion, imply that you and I cannot even dig a hole in the ground or kill a cockroach for fear of prosecution under some future law. Even cleaning your house might become illegal because of the bacterial colonies that you would destroy in the process!

This is not merely a feel-good unifying statement of our inarguable environmental responsibility as custodians of the Earth. It is a deliberately transformational credo that redefines our very existence and our relationship with all life on this planet.

All of this poppycock has stemmed from the rising groundswell of support for an environmental movement that has ceased to function as a sensible social and political force. It is now, undeniably, a zealous quasi-religious cult that wishes to impose a narrow-minded and anti-scientific view that all life is part of one universal ‘energy force’, which we are now obliged to pay homage to, for all that 'she' has done for us.

This is nothing short of irrational pandering to the fantasies of earth-worshipping, crystal-healing, indigo children. Human beings are now eagerly lining up to be the sacrificial lambs at the altar of Gaia.

This type of international politicking and pseudo law-making will do very little to improve our relationship with the environment or save many species from extinction, but it will make some people feel good as they run naked through the forest with blue birds on their shoulders and rabbits bounding at their feet singing some Disney inspired anthem. Except that the forest is likely to become a restricted area - after all, animals and plants will have a right to exist without any human interference.

This is not an isolated event to be ignored or passed off as the random act of a fringe third world nation. This has been decades in the planning and follows the inclusion of Rights for Nature into the Ecuadorian Constitution in 2008 and the United Nations' proclamation of April 22 as International Mother Earth Day, distinct from Earth Day on March 22 each year.

The UN's own website for Mother Earth Day states:

In 2009, at its Eighth Session, the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues requested special rapporteurs to prepare a Study on the need to recognize and respect the rights of Mother Earth. At its Ninth Session, the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues will discuss the findings of the study, as well as works toward establishing a Declaration on the Rights of Mother Earth.

Please note that the United Nations did not act out of mere tokenism. This is a predetermined action to meet a predefined goal and it is sanctioned and supported by the member nations of the UN. Conspiracy theories aside, there is a real agenda in play and it is supported by:

Agenda 21: an initiative of the United Nations that seeks to create a world bound by the principles of sustainable development; and

Codex Alimentarius the UN global strategy to manipulate and control agriculture, food and supplements devised in 1963 and guided by the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) and World Health Organisation (WHO) with the support of 184 member nations.

All of this is pointing to a future where your current life and lifestyle is marked for demolition as unreasonable restrictions are inevitably placed on the energy you consume, the food you eat, the materials you buy and even the places you are allowed to visit.

The reality for the 7 billion human inhabitants of Earth is that something needs to change; to continue on a destructive path is certainly unsustainable. On that we can agree.

But the answer is not to anthropomorphise the environment, to give rise to a crass spirituality or empower the most weirdly radical movement of the modern era. Nor is it to throw the human race into an era of reliance upon heavily regulated food production by profit-driven corporations reminiscent of the science fiction classic, Soylent Green.

The answer lies in education and self-regulation of our own consumerism. We may not be doing enough in a timely manner, but we are making changes, slowly and surely.

Faith in our ability to succeed on that pathway is far more palatable than faith in Gaia and the religiosity that surely follows.

  

The Storm

Dark sky; ominous, billowing clouds. An eerie wind rustles through the bushes like a warning to life. Nothing else but a deathly silence quivering with the passage of time. Not a bird twitter, nor a dog bark. No motion from the row of houses along the beach head.

Even the footprints in the sand are now erased from existence. The wind twirls in the dunes, sending spirals of silica to lash at one another like medieval ghosts on the battlefield.

Wind against sand; sand against leaf and twig; branches flailing wildly in defense against an unseen foe. Grasses yield, bowing before the omnipotent force. Resistence is futile. Death and destruction is nigh. Submission, the only hope.

Light! Bright! The heavens aflame with bolts of electricity. The resounding crack of thunder follows. Lightning streaming across the horizon, dancing on the rising sea. Wretched fireflies swarming in mass to attack.

Waves rush onto the beach, seeping through weed and debris. Trying to escape from oncoming onslaught. They crash and pound against the weathered groin. The rocks have faced this enemy many times before. Just as before, they refuse to succumb this time also. They will not yield though the waves are relentless.

Crack! Boom! The heavens open and unleash a torrent of rain upon the earth and sea. The ocean rises up to warmly greet its kin, absent for too long. Waves peak; stretching and dragging the droplets of life's pure essence back to their home.

The thirsty earth inhales the precipitation, greedily absorbing ever droplet as if it were the last of its kind. Heavy droplets smash into the dry soil leaving craters as if from a meteorite shower.

Soon the land is awash. Tiny rivers form from every dune top or grassy knoll. Streaming down through the gullies and small valleys. Winding and converging in a race back towards the sea. Rivulets and streams combine at every new junction, flowing with greater and greater force.

No longer content with its own passage, the water drags with it leaf and litter from around the base of each bush. It sweeps away the sand, revealing naked gnarled roots, threatening to remove the foundations of the green infrastructure. Challenging the sanctity of life.

Destruction and chaos in a micro level. Life upheaved by wind and rain. Yet the irony of the new life it creates is not lost. Nature is an irony. From death there is new life.