Uncle Ernie: They’ll Never Get My Water

I’ve never liked water, and I don’t trust what they put in it. I’ve always been opposed to the fluoridation of water, because nobody knows for sure what harm it is doing to us, apart from the scientists. The scientists claim it’s harmless, but I never trust anyone who says they have all the answers, unless he’s called Smith and his first name is Leighton.

When I heard those Maoris wanted all the water I was surprised. I began to wonder what on earth they were up to, and what they wanted to do with it. Anyway, how can anyone claim to own the water? It would be like claiming ownership of a cloud or the air we breathe, or the soil beneath our feet. Who ever heard of such a thing?

And if we give them rights to water, what next? Did you know that more than sixty percent of the human body is water? Imagine if these Maoris demanded their water back. They’d be at your door with their water tanks and their tubes and what-not, and you’d have no choice but to hand over your precious bodily fluids. They could threaten you with legal action if you refused.

They wouldn’t actually want the water swirling around in our bodies, because I expect it gets a bit dirty, but they could use the threat of extraction to force us to do anything they wanted. We’d become their slaves. So it’s pretty clear to me that white slavery is their real agenda.

I’ve nothing against slavery in distant lands, because it helps to keep the prices of some of our important consumer products low, but if you think for as moment that I would allow slavery in my own country, well you have another thing coming.

So it’s time we fought back. I’m planning to get the typewriter out, and to write a series of letters to various newspaper editors and MPs, in the hope that we can put a stop to this nonsense. I may be getting on in years, but it’s never too late to get politically active. I’m going to launch a campaign called “LET’S HAVE NO MORE OF THIS NONSENSE, THEN”, which I expect will be hard hitting. With powerful slogans like “I DON’T MUCH LIKE THIS”, “YOU WOULDN’T READ ABOUT IT”, and “DEAR OH DEAR, THAT’S NOT AT ALL WHAT WE WANT”, I expect I’ll have the public rallying behind my cause in no time.

But I need you help. Here’s what you can do to get active and join my cause:

  • My typewriter is on a shelf in my bedroom wardrobe, and I can’t get it down. Would you mind popping around and giving me a hand? My back’s no good, and the doctor says I’m not to put any strain on it.
  • If you’re coming this way, would you mind stopping at the supermarket and picking up some milk? Dark blue top, thanks.
  • Any political movement like this relies on the generosity of donors. Can you spare twenty dollars? You see, I’ll need to photocopy some pamphlets, and I know the local chemist has a photocopy machine. And would you mind dropping me up there when you’re done getting the milk and helping me to get the typewriter down? There’s a good chap. 

If none of that works, and if they still want the water from our bodies, then we shall have to take more drastic measures. We’ll drain the water from our own bodies and then throw it into the sea (isn’t it funny how they’re not demanding the water from the oceans? Maybe the taste of all that salt is just a bit too much for them). I expect life will be a bit uncomfortable for a while as our bodies adjust, but it’s better than letting those bastards have it.

Are you with me?