BluesFest, 21 March 2008
A one-day trip to the Byron Bay BluesFest seems like a teaser, an appetiser to a fabulous many-coursed meal at which it’s not possible to even SAMPLE every dish; and to only sample some is to do them an injustice, so you have to choose. Better a full palate of great musicians than the frustration of racing around, tasting but never satiated.
But Good Friday 08 was a feminine feast of musical love and talent that was enough to satisfy in just one day.
Michelle Shocked got the love-fest started by calling her partner—her sweetheart, her oh-so-obviously-true-love—and for a sharp East Texas stringbean like Michelle—she gets longer and leggier every time I see her—what could’ve been a sentimental washout for any other performer was as honest and forthright an expression as anyone has ever given.
Of course, the comic unreliability of mobile phones lightened the episode considerably when, after hearing his first “Hello?” Michelle launched into an outpouring of, “I swore I wasn’t going to cry, I can’t cry here in front of all these people, but I miss you so much, I wish you were here, these four weeks have been so hard, I miss you …” only to have him reply with another, staticky, puzzled-sounding, “Hello?” And we all laughed in sympathy with the frustrations of contemporary high-tech communication.
Friday’s set was a collage of new songs from an upcoming album, a few old favorites: she opened with “Anchorage”; sang a paen to Mavis Staples, gospel queen, who performed a rousing, raucous, quite un-holy set later in the day; and included quite a few of her own spirit-based works, appropriate to the day and season. Her Southern roots seem to be making themselves more and more evident as she gravitates toward the gospel/spiritual element of music—and yet, again, her honesty protects it from the insipidity or preachiness that style sometimes generates.
As the sun went down, the dusky-voiced Mavis Staples belted out blues raw and rough enough to make even the most hard-edged rapper blush. Rather than the humility we often expect from faith-based musicians, Mavis gave us the passion and power of the spirit, gospel and blues music that celebrates life and glory and human potential—that makes you cry with the fierce joy of living.
But the true power of the day lay with the Keltic diva, the Irish-songstress recognized as much for her rage and outcry against injustice, hypocrisy and patriarchy as much as for her music. If, however, you were one of those who believes that it is her politics rather than her artistic genius that make her the woman she is, it took only a few notes into her opening song, “I am Stretched on Your Grave” (adapted from a 17th Century epic poem) to shatter that illusion. And 1990s “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, recorded during such a period of social change yet still so suspicious, is even more relevant today and illustrates O’Conner’s ability to combine the ultimate in artistic beauty with thematic timelessness.
For those who remember the iconic video of “Nothing Compares to You”, the Prince-written song that Sinead sang at 23 years old, with all the dewy innocence of youth and belief in the power of passion and change—those profoundly blue eyes in as vulnerable a face as has ever been projected by film—the first sight of the 41 year old mother of four might come as a shock. Gone are that perfect glowing skin, the serenity of youth, the faith in truth and beauty. A contentious professional life, personal drama, health issues (her own bout with fibromyalgia and pneumonia of her youngest child—born 19 December 2007), and most probably international climate of violence and instability have taken their toll.
Hunch shouldered, looking mostly at the stage, and seemingly fragile as she stretched her mouth and voice for those heart-stopping leaps into vocal impossibility, her performance appeared at first a valiant struggle whose effort might be beyond her. The invigorating Keltic rhythms of “You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart” lifted the set out of melancholy, although a new song—inspired, she said, by months of fascination with TV preachers during her recent residency in Atlanta, Georgia (USA, not Eastern Europe)—she apologized for, saying (and sounding like her fellow Irish activist, Bono) that it had ended up sounding more “preachy” than she intended.
Though she clearly gave it her all, and her voice held the magic and power that has attracted audiences for more than 20 years, still it was painful to watch this once-immensely powerful warrior woman/singer/poet conjure her former selves from what seemed a damaged and broken vessel.
With determination to maintain a level of professionalism and fulfill her obligation to her audience, Sinead and her band went into the opening chords of “Nothing Compares 2 U”; they were greeted by such a roar of love and approval that she lifted her head in surprise. But it was the power of the audience’s voice—strong and direct in that honest Australian way—as we fed her back the chorus, that at last elicited the dimpled smile from her face, and the angelic wide-eyed nymph returned to us for those few seconds. Aha, I though, smiling through my own tears, there she is.
And for the rest of her concert—including an absolutely breathtaking version of “This Heart”, a cappella, sung with her arms around the two other women (violinist and guitarist) of the band; dance-tempo renditions of “Mandinka” and “Fire On Babylon”; some offerings from her latest album, Theology; and the always-heartbreaking “Thank You for Hearing Me”—that Australian energy carried her through on its strength. Closing with the almost unbearably sad, “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance”, still she left the stage smiling with genuine appreciation and thanks for the audience’s love.
Later, listening to Don McLean, we laughed when he commented that he wanted to play us “one more new song before we get to the big one” with a good-natured resignation in his voice. How sick must he get of having to play that paen—that document of rock and roll history that transcends generations in its familiarity—even if it has meant he never had to work again the rest of his life.
Once again, however, the Australian audience shocked and amazed the veteran musician with their enthusiasm and return of energy—to the point where he even played the first verse one more time, just to allow us to sing along.
Good Friday at the BluesFest reminded me once again how much I love the magic of Byron Bay, but perhaps even more, how much I admire the honest appreciation of Australian audiences for what they love and support. Be it policies, sport or music, Australians are unstinting in their approval. It’s a great quality to see and feel.
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Friday, March 21, 2008
Friday, December 28, 2007
Benazir Bhutto: Face of the Goddess
I’m shocked and deeply saddened by Joan Walsh of Salon and other commentors’ focus on Bhutto’s death as purely a political and economic catalyst and how it will affect the US and world politics.
How about the loss of a WOMAN LEADER in a world increasingly polarized between the masculine and feminine? In the Reagan/Thatcher 80s, Bhutto was to me a shining example of how a woman could be both feminine and powerful, both compassionate and effective—and perhaps more importantly, how the people of a culture widely seen as much more sexist and restrictive to women could actually vote a woman into power. It was the beginning of my recognition of women and feminism throughout the world, not just in the US; of my understanding that feminism wasn’t just about middle-class US women being able to have abortions or go to professional universities or play sports or feel safe to walk home at night, but that it also encompassed the other 95% of the world, of which more than half was women. Women in societies where they could be forced to leap upon the funeral pyre of their husbands from forced marriages. Women who could be killed for simply loving—or looking at—the wrong man. Women whose very lives—not to mention their sexual fulfillment and ability to give birth safely—were threatened by female genital mutilation. And all the hundreds of thousands of women who would never be because of female infanticide in the two most populous countries.
Being from the US and having very little exposure to politics in the rest of the world, I was ignorant of the progressive Scandinavian societies where women achieved near equity during Second Wave feminism. I only remember seeing Corazon Aquino and Benazir Bhutto and other “Third World” women coming to power—being VOTED into power—and thinking, what’s WRONG with us? Even Thatcher, although I admired her abilities (but not her politics) was the Iron Lady, the Man with Tits, the Wombless Woman. There was nothing feminine about her.
But Bhutto, ah, Bhutto made leadership seem naturally graceful and feminine and full of compassion. I did not follow her career closely, know little of the circumstances surrounding her falls from power either time—I have no doubt that there were elements of corruption and power-mongering around her governments, as there are around every modern government. I also have no doubt that the same sorts of people who love to hate Hillary Rodham Clinton and Nancy Pelosi and Helen Clark and Arundhati Roy and Wangari Maathi and all the other strong, powerful women in the world today, also hated Benazir Bhutto and did all they could to bring her down in the eyes of the world and her people. The current epidemic of misogyny didn’t spring, fully formed, from the Bush administration or fanatical Islam—it has been quietly (and not so quietly, see Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell) fomenting ever since the beginning of the Second Wave. It certainly existed where Bhutto was popular.
Speaking of fanatical Islam, however, that was another thing that Bhutto did … for me. Here was a worldly, educated, powerful woman, an excellent speaker, obviously capable of drawing crowds of support (of men as well as women) who was a Muslim. Benazir Bhutto was the face of feminist Islam; she gave credence to the stories of Fatima and other powerful Muslim women—mother and wives and daughters of Mohammed who, like the women surrounding Jesus of Nazareth, were instrumental and absolutely essential in spreading the teachings of Islam. I also suspect that, like almost all women, no matter how important or powerful, they also performed many “feminine” tasks such as care-giving and nurturing and cooking and teaching and building community—in short, the tasks that hold the society together. Tasks that our political leaders should focus on more, rather than trying to force change by economic or political (or violent) means. Of course, I don’t mean to say that Benazir Bhutto spent her time baking bread or wiping the fevered brow of her children—although she very well may have; or that those things are more important than leading the pro-democracy movement and calling for the eradication of poverty in Pakistan. But are they really less important? And even though I never saw her do them and don’t know that she ever did them, there was something about her that gave the impression that great leadership could encompass all of those elements of femininity and compassion without losing any of its power.
After September 11 and the Bali bombing, I was living in Australia. Benazir Bhutto seemed to visit frequently, appearing on many forums and political discussion shows, trying to bridge the cultural gap between frightened, suspicious “white” Australians and angry, suspicious Muslim Australians. Despite incidences of violence and racial unrest that broke out in some of the inner cities (more a result of ghettoization and economic disparity, I believe, than actual religious radicalization) Australians seemed by and large to want to believe that the two cultures could live side by side, could intermingle and create a multi-cultural society. It’s a belief that has practical as well as ideological implications for Australia; after all, the island nation’s closest neighbour is the world’s largest Muslim nation: Indonesia. Although right-of-centre (and Bush “arse-licker” as dubbed by the former leader of the opposition) Prime Minister John Howard was able to wrangle two electoral victories out of fear and xenophobia, his adamant support for the “war on terror” and particularly its implications of a “war on Islam” made many Australian uncomfortable and, I hope, had more than a little to do with Howard’s recent humiliating loss.
I digress. I mention Bhutto’s visits to Australia as she seemed at the time one of the few people able to pour oil on those troubled waters of racial and religious tension. She seemed always, to me, the ultimate in feminine grace and power, with a beauty not simply of face and form, but of compassion and wisdom as well. In short, she embodied a contemporary image of the Goddess; in doing so, she gave me hope. Now, my only hope is that her decision to return to Pakistan for the movement, despite the risks she well knew she took, will achieve what she set out to achieve—a step along her home’s road to democracy, another stone in the path to peace.
How about the loss of a WOMAN LEADER in a world increasingly polarized between the masculine and feminine? In the Reagan/Thatcher 80s, Bhutto was to me a shining example of how a woman could be both feminine and powerful, both compassionate and effective—and perhaps more importantly, how the people of a culture widely seen as much more sexist and restrictive to women could actually vote a woman into power. It was the beginning of my recognition of women and feminism throughout the world, not just in the US; of my understanding that feminism wasn’t just about middle-class US women being able to have abortions or go to professional universities or play sports or feel safe to walk home at night, but that it also encompassed the other 95% of the world, of which more than half was women. Women in societies where they could be forced to leap upon the funeral pyre of their husbands from forced marriages. Women who could be killed for simply loving—or looking at—the wrong man. Women whose very lives—not to mention their sexual fulfillment and ability to give birth safely—were threatened by female genital mutilation. And all the hundreds of thousands of women who would never be because of female infanticide in the two most populous countries.
Being from the US and having very little exposure to politics in the rest of the world, I was ignorant of the progressive Scandinavian societies where women achieved near equity during Second Wave feminism. I only remember seeing Corazon Aquino and Benazir Bhutto and other “Third World” women coming to power—being VOTED into power—and thinking, what’s WRONG with us? Even Thatcher, although I admired her abilities (but not her politics) was the Iron Lady, the Man with Tits, the Wombless Woman. There was nothing feminine about her.
But Bhutto, ah, Bhutto made leadership seem naturally graceful and feminine and full of compassion. I did not follow her career closely, know little of the circumstances surrounding her falls from power either time—I have no doubt that there were elements of corruption and power-mongering around her governments, as there are around every modern government. I also have no doubt that the same sorts of people who love to hate Hillary Rodham Clinton and Nancy Pelosi and Helen Clark and Arundhati Roy and Wangari Maathi and all the other strong, powerful women in the world today, also hated Benazir Bhutto and did all they could to bring her down in the eyes of the world and her people. The current epidemic of misogyny didn’t spring, fully formed, from the Bush administration or fanatical Islam—it has been quietly (and not so quietly, see Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell) fomenting ever since the beginning of the Second Wave. It certainly existed where Bhutto was popular.
Speaking of fanatical Islam, however, that was another thing that Bhutto did … for me. Here was a worldly, educated, powerful woman, an excellent speaker, obviously capable of drawing crowds of support (of men as well as women) who was a Muslim. Benazir Bhutto was the face of feminist Islam; she gave credence to the stories of Fatima and other powerful Muslim women—mother and wives and daughters of Mohammed who, like the women surrounding Jesus of Nazareth, were instrumental and absolutely essential in spreading the teachings of Islam. I also suspect that, like almost all women, no matter how important or powerful, they also performed many “feminine” tasks such as care-giving and nurturing and cooking and teaching and building community—in short, the tasks that hold the society together. Tasks that our political leaders should focus on more, rather than trying to force change by economic or political (or violent) means. Of course, I don’t mean to say that Benazir Bhutto spent her time baking bread or wiping the fevered brow of her children—although she very well may have; or that those things are more important than leading the pro-democracy movement and calling for the eradication of poverty in Pakistan. But are they really less important? And even though I never saw her do them and don’t know that she ever did them, there was something about her that gave the impression that great leadership could encompass all of those elements of femininity and compassion without losing any of its power.
After September 11 and the Bali bombing, I was living in Australia. Benazir Bhutto seemed to visit frequently, appearing on many forums and political discussion shows, trying to bridge the cultural gap between frightened, suspicious “white” Australians and angry, suspicious Muslim Australians. Despite incidences of violence and racial unrest that broke out in some of the inner cities (more a result of ghettoization and economic disparity, I believe, than actual religious radicalization) Australians seemed by and large to want to believe that the two cultures could live side by side, could intermingle and create a multi-cultural society. It’s a belief that has practical as well as ideological implications for Australia; after all, the island nation’s closest neighbour is the world’s largest Muslim nation: Indonesia. Although right-of-centre (and Bush “arse-licker” as dubbed by the former leader of the opposition) Prime Minister John Howard was able to wrangle two electoral victories out of fear and xenophobia, his adamant support for the “war on terror” and particularly its implications of a “war on Islam” made many Australian uncomfortable and, I hope, had more than a little to do with Howard’s recent humiliating loss.
I digress. I mention Bhutto’s visits to Australia as she seemed at the time one of the few people able to pour oil on those troubled waters of racial and religious tension. She seemed always, to me, the ultimate in feminine grace and power, with a beauty not simply of face and form, but of compassion and wisdom as well. In short, she embodied a contemporary image of the Goddess; in doing so, she gave me hope. Now, my only hope is that her decision to return to Pakistan for the movement, despite the risks she well knew she took, will achieve what she set out to achieve—a step along her home’s road to democracy, another stone in the path to peace.
Friday, December 21, 2007
MY HUSBAND GAVE ME A GOAT!
Well, actually, he gave me a bee hive—he wanted to give me a goat but they were sold out! Neither of the creatures actually comes to me, the “recipient”; rather, it is a program of World Vision that allows people to give life-saving or –improving basic necessities to people in need.
My gift will provide “a family in Somalia or Jerusalem/Gaza/West Bank with a beehive, safety equipment and training so they can produce a source of essential vitamins for their children and generate vital income” www.worldvision.com.au/smiles. As my husband wrote to me, “we have enough ‘stuff’ already. I think that this is a gift that will keep on giving to people who need it. Was going to buy a goat but they've sold out.” As my mother pointed out, it’s probably just as well that it wasn’t a goat—you have to feed a goat; bees feed themselves. Also, it’s hard to steal bees.
But I’m as happy with this gift as I imagine a wife in the developing world would be with an actual goat! I checked the website and World Vision is indeed sold out of goats (for families in the Sudan), donkeys for women in Ethiopia, and sports equipment for children in Papua New Guinea. Still available, however, are school kits for children in Azerbaijan, greening/tree-plantings in many African, South American and SE Asian countries, and Clean and Flush systems to improve hygiene in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
If you’re of the “teach a person to fish” philosophy, however, there are other ways to contribute to the development of that developing world: Andrew Leonard of Salon today celebrates the repayment (in full) of a micro-loan and feels so enriched by the experience he’s decided to “roll it over and double up on [his] bet”, starting “the How the World Works Christmas tradition.”
http://www.salon.com/tech/htww/2007/12/21/a_very_merry_kiva_christmas/index.html
Although this is all a very “rich white liberal” thing to do—a process about which I’m very critical and cynical—still, it’s one of the few ways that those of us in the first world can contribute to improving the quality of life for the 2/3 of the world who live on less than $2 a day. I sponsor a child in Kenya, I go out of my way to buy Fair Trade goods, I research consumer products to make sure they’re not created by child labor in sweatshops. I don’t shop at WalMart, I don’t buy Nestle, Exxon or Teva, I buy as locally as possible, and I support all manner of pressure on elected officials as well as corporate entities from Bono, Bob Geldof, Oprah, Care2, Angelina Jolie, and every other well-meaning First World liberal trying to alleviate the guilt and actually do some good, for the long term.
I do, however, tend to feel more impassioned about non-human animals; much of my interest in improving the conditions of humans in the developing world comes from my understanding that if the conditions of humans are improved, deforestation and destruction of habitat for the many endangered animals—Mountain Gorillas, Bengal tigers, clouded leopards, jaguars, lemurs, elephants, and dozens, maybe hundreds of others—will be reduced. Humans I reckon play at least some role in much of their own misery. Non-human animals do nothing but act in the way that nature—or circumstances brought about by the interference in nature—forces them to. Such circumstances have also, of course, affected indigenous peoples all over the world; I am quite prepared to recognize the impossible positions of the !Kung of the Kalahari, the Maasai, the Inuit, the Papau New Guineans, the Amazonian tribes, all of whose deep connection to nature places them between protecting the natural world of which they are part, and surviving in the face of the onslaught of Western “civilization”. Some of the actions they have taken have been heroic indeed. If I had money to donate, I’d give it to http://www.survival-international.org/home, which advocates for the rights of indigenous people to simply live the way they’ve lived for 1000s of years.
But right now my sympathies are with the whales and my passions with Paul Watson and Sea Shepherd http://www.seashepherd.org/migaloo/index.html. I read and have sent as a gift and recommended to everyone The Whale Warriors, the story of Sea Shepherd’s 2005 tracking of the Japanese whaling fleet, that illegally hunted and killed more than 800 minke whales and nearly 50 fin whales in the Antarctic whale sanctuary. When I lived on the East Coast of Australia, every spring (that’s September through November Down Under) I was thrilled to see the whale migration south to the summer feeding grounds in the Antarctic. Pods of several whales, pairs of mothers and calves, sometimes two or three pals, or the occasional loner, swam by, visible along the horizon as they spouted and breeched. The whale-watching industry of Australia has successfully created a sense of stewardship by almost all Australians (except, of course, the recently deposed Howard government) and the fury with which Aussies greet the Japanese determination to continue to hunt 1000+ whales per year for “research” purposes has become virulent: FUCK OFF JAPAN... LEAVE OUR WHALES ALONE!!!! http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=7251222651&ref=nf
With their announcement this year that they would add 50 humpback whales to the quota—and refusal even to guarantee the safety of Migaloo, the rare albino humpback that is Australia’s darling—Japan has crossed the line. Even the BUSH ADMINISTRATION has sternly warned Japan that this activity will not be tolerated. New Aussie Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has confirmed that he will send Naval scouts to document the illegal whaling “take action before the International Court of Justice and the Tribunal for Law of the Sea, using the Whaling Convention and the Endangered Species Convention” —hunting whales, especially in a sanctuary, is, after all, ILLEGAL.
Watson, however, isn’t holding his breath; neither is Sea Shepherd holding back on enforcing the law themselves, as best they can. According to the organisation’s latest press release:
“Sea Shepherd does not understand how Australia can enforce fishing regulations against Toothfish poachers from Uruguay yet cannot intervene against the slaughter of the whales in these same water, waters that are clearly marked on the nautical charts as part of the Australian Economic Exclusion Zone.
“Our response to Australia's announcement of their 'plan' to protect the whales is to drop the camera and pick up your guns and enforce the bloody laws, mate.”
My gift will provide “a family in Somalia or Jerusalem/Gaza/West Bank with a beehive, safety equipment and training so they can produce a source of essential vitamins for their children and generate vital income” www.worldvision.com.au/smiles. As my husband wrote to me, “we have enough ‘stuff’ already. I think that this is a gift that will keep on giving to people who need it. Was going to buy a goat but they've sold out.” As my mother pointed out, it’s probably just as well that it wasn’t a goat—you have to feed a goat; bees feed themselves. Also, it’s hard to steal bees.
But I’m as happy with this gift as I imagine a wife in the developing world would be with an actual goat! I checked the website and World Vision is indeed sold out of goats (for families in the Sudan), donkeys for women in Ethiopia, and sports equipment for children in Papua New Guinea. Still available, however, are school kits for children in Azerbaijan, greening/tree-plantings in many African, South American and SE Asian countries, and Clean and Flush systems to improve hygiene in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
If you’re of the “teach a person to fish” philosophy, however, there are other ways to contribute to the development of that developing world: Andrew Leonard of Salon today celebrates the repayment (in full) of a micro-loan and feels so enriched by the experience he’s decided to “roll it over and double up on [his] bet”, starting “the How the World Works Christmas tradition.”
http://www.salon.com/tech/htww/2007/12/21/a_very_merry_kiva_christmas/index.html
Although this is all a very “rich white liberal” thing to do—a process about which I’m very critical and cynical—still, it’s one of the few ways that those of us in the first world can contribute to improving the quality of life for the 2/3 of the world who live on less than $2 a day. I sponsor a child in Kenya, I go out of my way to buy Fair Trade goods, I research consumer products to make sure they’re not created by child labor in sweatshops. I don’t shop at WalMart, I don’t buy Nestle, Exxon or Teva, I buy as locally as possible, and I support all manner of pressure on elected officials as well as corporate entities from Bono, Bob Geldof, Oprah, Care2, Angelina Jolie, and every other well-meaning First World liberal trying to alleviate the guilt and actually do some good, for the long term.
I do, however, tend to feel more impassioned about non-human animals; much of my interest in improving the conditions of humans in the developing world comes from my understanding that if the conditions of humans are improved, deforestation and destruction of habitat for the many endangered animals—Mountain Gorillas, Bengal tigers, clouded leopards, jaguars, lemurs, elephants, and dozens, maybe hundreds of others—will be reduced. Humans I reckon play at least some role in much of their own misery. Non-human animals do nothing but act in the way that nature—or circumstances brought about by the interference in nature—forces them to. Such circumstances have also, of course, affected indigenous peoples all over the world; I am quite prepared to recognize the impossible positions of the !Kung of the Kalahari, the Maasai, the Inuit, the Papau New Guineans, the Amazonian tribes, all of whose deep connection to nature places them between protecting the natural world of which they are part, and surviving in the face of the onslaught of Western “civilization”. Some of the actions they have taken have been heroic indeed. If I had money to donate, I’d give it to http://www.survival-international.org/home, which advocates for the rights of indigenous people to simply live the way they’ve lived for 1000s of years.
But right now my sympathies are with the whales and my passions with Paul Watson and Sea Shepherd http://www.seashepherd.org/migaloo/index.html. I read and have sent as a gift and recommended to everyone The Whale Warriors, the story of Sea Shepherd’s 2005 tracking of the Japanese whaling fleet, that illegally hunted and killed more than 800 minke whales and nearly 50 fin whales in the Antarctic whale sanctuary. When I lived on the East Coast of Australia, every spring (that’s September through November Down Under) I was thrilled to see the whale migration south to the summer feeding grounds in the Antarctic. Pods of several whales, pairs of mothers and calves, sometimes two or three pals, or the occasional loner, swam by, visible along the horizon as they spouted and breeched. The whale-watching industry of Australia has successfully created a sense of stewardship by almost all Australians (except, of course, the recently deposed Howard government) and the fury with which Aussies greet the Japanese determination to continue to hunt 1000+ whales per year for “research” purposes has become virulent: FUCK OFF JAPAN... LEAVE OUR WHALES ALONE!!!! http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=7251222651&ref=nf
With their announcement this year that they would add 50 humpback whales to the quota—and refusal even to guarantee the safety of Migaloo, the rare albino humpback that is Australia’s darling—Japan has crossed the line. Even the BUSH ADMINISTRATION has sternly warned Japan that this activity will not be tolerated. New Aussie Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has confirmed that he will send Naval scouts to document the illegal whaling “take action before the International Court of Justice and the Tribunal for Law of the Sea, using the Whaling Convention and the Endangered Species Convention” —hunting whales, especially in a sanctuary, is, after all, ILLEGAL.
Watson, however, isn’t holding his breath; neither is Sea Shepherd holding back on enforcing the law themselves, as best they can. According to the organisation’s latest press release:
“Sea Shepherd does not understand how Australia can enforce fishing regulations against Toothfish poachers from Uruguay yet cannot intervene against the slaughter of the whales in these same water, waters that are clearly marked on the nautical charts as part of the Australian Economic Exclusion Zone.
“Our response to Australia's announcement of their 'plan' to protect the whales is to drop the camera and pick up your guns and enforce the bloody laws, mate.”
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