The rock that started it all The rock's story |
Today I came across a feeble story about an Australian Refugee Detention camp in, of all places, Nauru (nah oo roo). Nauru is small island is the South Pacific. The name sounds familiar. It wouldn't be that island with the huge deposits of bird poop, would it? Well, yes, it would.
Okay, so maybe the crags were only 20 or 30 feet tall |
Australia has a policy of not letting any boat people into the country on the premise that more people are drowned trying to make the crossing than actually make it, so by discouraging them, fewer people try and fewer people die. Sounds like fodder for a big political argument.
The Australian coast guard sweeps the northern sea. Any boats loaded with refugees get picked up and shipped to Nauru, a thousand miles away. Australia pays Nauru handsomely for accepting these people and this seems to be the one bright spot in the Nauru economy. (The economy is really tiny, so any kind of government activity is going to have big impact.) The Australian taxpayers are footing the exorbitant bill, but that is the Australian taxpayers problem and I'll leave it to them.
Nauru was riding high for a while on the bird poop business, but like many lottery winners the money wandered off, and the bird poop mining business removed all the bird poop, so now Nauru is reduced to running a concentration camp for the white man.
Nauru Phosphate Mining |
Nauru seems to be a stellar example of the horrors of a welfare state. What those people need is a religion, a religion that would put them to work doing something strenuous. Like carving massive stone heads and transporting them to the coast.
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