From the center ring at the Globalistical Warmening circus in Copenhagen:
Tuvalu, a Pacific island state politically and financially close to Australia, proposed a new protocol which would have the advantage of potentially forcing deeper global emission cuts, but could lead to other developing countries - rather than rich nations - having to make those cuts.
Many developing nations cherish the legally binding commitments that Kyoto places on industrialised nations and fiercely oppose proposals that would change this.
Tuvalu was immediately supported by other small island states, including Grenada, Trinidad and Tobago and several African states.
Tuvalu’s representative turned on the waterworks in his attempt to guilt the world into a payoff:
The lead negotiator for the small island nation of Tuvalu, the bow-tie wearing Ian Fry, broke down as he begged delegates to take tough action.
"I woke up this morning crying, and that's not easy for a grown man to admit," Mr Fry said on Saturday, as his eyes welled with tears.
"The fate of my country rests in your hands," he concluded, as the audience exploded with wild applause.
His country? Not really. It’s just a convenient personification for his cause:
But the part-time PhD scholar at the Australian National University actually resides in Queanbeyan, NSW, where he's not likely to be troubled by rising sea levels because the closest beach at Batemans Bay is a two-hour, 144km drive away. Asked whether he had ever lived in Tuvalu, his wife told The Australian last night she would "rather not comment".
…[Fry’s home is] a long way from the endangered atolls of Tuvalu, with his neighbour Michelle Ormay confirming he's lived in Queanbeyan for more than a decade, while he has worked his way up to being "very high up in climate change".
Fry is the same sort of huckster as those we see on TV urging us to send cash to help starving waifs in the third world. The voice-over tells us that for just pennies a day we can buy food and build schools for Maria and Pablo. Without those innocent faces, the appeal just doesn’t work.
So, what’s the face of Tuvalu? For what does Mr. Fry expect us to sacrifice?
It’s a handful of islands with a population of less than 12,000 humans. It is so remote that it has no tourism.
“Tuvalu has almost no natural resources, and its main form of income consists of foreign aid. Virtually the only jobs in the islands that pay a steady wage or salary are with the government.”
Tuvalu, as a patch of earth, is economically worthless. Actually, it’s less than worthless. It’s a parasite. The only significant value of the place is virtual. Its internet domain is .tv
We could move those 12,000 people somewhere better—where they could rise above subsistence—for the $50 million in royalties we granted them for the .tv domain.
But that would solve the problem. And put Mr. Fry out of work. It might even make him cry for real.