Once upon a time, before any of the islands had a name, they lived nameless and blameless under the sun. Then along came some people and they gave to the islands a name and themselves a name and they lived together quite happily. UNTIL one day, along came some more people who wanted more to get more. Don’t ask me why they wanted to get more, they just did. And they gave to the islands yet another name. Then they set about finding useful work for the land to do.
First of all they tricked the lands out of the hearts and hands of the people who loved and lived on her. Then they shaved her, shaped her and carved her up. ….. so that she could be more PRODUCTIVE.
And as time went on in the world of men and as progress progressed, some more people saw those islands from afar and said to themselves AHA, there’s work for them there islands. It was the work of WAR. And because the warmongers were so chummy with the land carvers they got on just fine. And so they put the land to work.
Along came the few huge oil companies and the mining companies from the Uranium Club who held all the money and called all the prices and they put the land of Australia to work… mining Uranium. “Uranium is absolutely necessary for the production of nuclear weapons and therefore it is economically viable”.
But what about the radon gas? What about the radioactive dust that will seep out of the split earth and poison the people?
“What’s a few lives in the face of progress? Get back to work”.
But what about the aboriginal people? Their sacred land will be carved up by you money hungry money huggers.
“Never mind the mine. Put your mind to rest, underneath the acres of Uranium tailing that will lie. Never mind the mine. Think of the MONEY”.
SONG
They want to dig earth up
Down at Roxby Downs
They say it’s for silver or gold.
But digging much deeper
The darker you get.
A strange suspect secret unfolds.
chorus: Roxby Downs – Uranium Mine
Those slick-suited businessmen
Don’t make a sound
As they stalk the Red-Carpeted V.I.P. lounge.
The Western Mining Company and B.P.
They are the ones who will lap up the cream
chorus: Roxby Downs – Uranium Mine
Innocently, so you wouldn’t suspect
The typewriters click
But they’re spelling out death.
Making arrangements for stock and exchanges.
The brass and plate-glass keep them out of all danger.
chorus: Roxby Downs – Uranium Mine
One hundred and fifty football fields full
Or uranium tailings will lie.
You get lots of money for dying of cancer
From scarping Uranium mines.
chorus: Roxby Downs – Uranium Mine
LEAVE THE SLEEPING LIZARD DREAMING IN THE GROUND
But there was more important work to be done. Around the islands of the Pacific, a whole ocean lay-idle. An idle ocean? That never will do, with only its few canoe fishing. OH NO. Something much more LUCRATIVE could lurk in the depths of the Pacific.
And so hundreds of Nuclear submarines each with a deathload of four hundred warheads were sent to snoop in a suspicious sea.
But such a wide, blue ocean can do much more than work below. It can also support many masses of nuclear warships on its surface and offer them friendly allied ports of call. [SONG]
YOHOO – DO YOU MIND IF I DUMP TEN THOUSAND DRUMS OF NUCLEAR WASTE IN YOUR PACIFIC RUBBISH BIN.
And so those nuclear warships, like jet-propelled coffins patrolled that wide, blue Pacific spilling their load of zombie, clean-cut sailors on the shore.
But meanwhile, the land that fed and nurtured her people began to grow a rash of military installations. The island of HAWAII had a hundred and ten military installations nailed onto her back and she became known as the hub in the wheel of the U.S. Pacific Command.
But now, the land that fed, housed and nurtured the people who lived on her began to grow sick and unable to look after the people who lived on her, because not only did the huge military hobnails tear and torture her surface, but now, on her horizon loomed the presence of the nightmare nuclear bomb its cloud blotting out the life and love of all people.
The military men moved onto the island of BIKINI in 1946. “What better place to test our bombs than somewhere not too close to home”, they said. The people of BIKINI wailed and screamed, but they were forced at gunpoint to leave their homes. They were told that the testing of bombs was for the good of mankind and to end all wars. YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE.
The people of bikini were told that the testing of bombs was for the good of mankind and to end all wars – now they know otherwise. Their home was split in two by the force of the nuclear blast and that’s why back home women began to wear the tragedy of Bikini stranded on their navels.
– 2.3.4. TELL THE PEOPLE WHAT SHE WORE. SHE WORE AN ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY YELLOW POLKADOT BIKINI.
The testing for war went on. Whoever noticed that in the testing for war thousands of people have lost or will lose their lives as a result of radiation. The testing for war went on:
…MORUROA … KWAJALEIN … ENEWETOK … FANGATAUFA … CHRISTMAS ISLAND … JOHNSON ISLAND … BELAU … MARALINGA … EMU … SIX ISLAND WERE BLOWN OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH.
So far over 200 nuclear devices have been exploded in the Pacific and have leaked their poison into the lives of so, so many brown bodies that are never talked about.
Because the sea is poisoned, because the land is poisoned, because the air is poisoned. The people eat poison, the people drink poison, the people breathe poison. And they grow sick with CANCER, LEUKEMIA, THYROID ABNORMALITIES, BRAIN DAMAGE.
Women give birth to children who do not look human and who breathe for a few hours only. The women are so terrified at what has come from their bodies that they hide it. But now they begin to find other women who suffer the same. Slowly their grief turns to anger.
Now in the islands of the Pacific the blood of her people begins to beat against those who show no compassion for the victims of the nuclear industry, against those who come to the islands and turn a blind eye, against those who come on a tourist package holiday, against those who choose to call deformed babies bizarre propaganda. The voices of the island people rise up through the military instillations, through the corridors of correct procedure, through the miles of red tape. Their voices rise up together.