RUSTY
Musician, Visionary, Permaculturalist, Grandfather and Earth Defender.

Press release from the Rainbow Bunker, January oo7

As ever, I have been so busy in the 'real' world of the garden that I haven't had much chance to change this web site, added to which, I am not much of a typist, in fact I can't type. These words are being typed by someone else, no wonder I feel like a dyslexic time traveller. Actually I find it hard to read and write, a bit like walking on hot coals, don't worry I am getting better every year. ..

Before I talk about my next court case on my birthday on March 12th 2007 in Lismore and before I talk about the all night and next morning fund raising concert at Hanging Rock Hall  and before I mention the fundraising gig about reinstating the Terrania Creek Shire- date and venue unconfirmed, I need to talk about what will be happening in 2007 besides my regular activism with the Nimbin Environment Centre, in 2007 I will be doing my part to help save Lake Cowal by supporting the Cyanide Watch, same as I did at Timbarra! ...

Back to the court case......

I see my role at the NimbinMardiGrass as that of an ambassador, as you may know I have been involved in Cannabis Law Reform, the Nimbin HEMP Embassy and the MardiGrass since they began. In the weeks leading up to the protest rally we recycled furniture and located a huge number of things to bring to improve the MardiGrass atmosphere, perhaps my favourite duty at MardiGrass is to "welcome home" all the rainbow people. We provided an "open lounge chill space" where you could get food, drinks, healing and information on what was happening, not just at the festival, but the overall situation that we face as activists. We had a very powerful sound system that  had a cordless microphone which enabled me to speak to the crowd in between the chill out music.

What a wonderful weekend, MardiGrass just seems to get better every year, this was my 14th and this year was special because of the overwhelming police presence. Before the MardiGrass the police were in town everyday in huge numbers, sniffer dogs were rumoured to be arriving for the weekend and mardigrass looked like it would be one huge bust.

To illustrate how worried people were about sniffer dogs, I heard that emporium sold more cayene pepper in 2 hours than they had for 2 years. Gee, it was a good festival, so many people, so many smiles. I have no idea how many thousand sisters and brothers I welcomed home nor how many listened to everything that I had to say on the loud speakers, shit, I don't even remember every single thing that I said, however, I do know the theme I speak along and that is save the planet, stop the war, change the law, the earth is to be a garden, cyanide and arsenic in the river, stop nuclear energy, plant more trees, you know me, you know I have lots to say on these issues. Total transparency in all that I do. 

There were 2 types of police at this years Mardigrass, a handful of Lismore and Nimbin based local police and a couple of truck loads of riot squad. The local police know about our tribal possession of the streets of Nimbin, they know the culture and they recognize the elders. The riot squad however were ignorant of Nimbin Protocol. They seemed to approach us as if we were just another town having some self indulgent festival. They didn't seem to understand that they were at a cannabis law reform gathering. An example of this was during a healing outside the chill space, I was right in the middle of a healing when a robotic voice informed me that I would be arrested if I didn't clear the footpath. I replied "there's plenty room, just walk around, there's plenty of room". Clear the footpath or you will be arrested. end of healing. I could list so many more of these incidents over the weekend, but I can't write them in here until after I tell the magistrate.

That's right. I got arrested at the very very end of packing up on Sunday night. I was tired but exhilarated, sitting with my family on the last chill out couch to be loaded onto the truck, I suppose it was 8.30, it was dark and Cullen street was quiet. My youngest son spotted someone hiding behind a potted palm tree. I could see that my son was scared so I said "Come out of the darkness where we can see you, you are scaring my kids." Nothing happened and the stalker stood still. I wearily got off the couch, I was gunna pick it up and put it on the trailer soon anyway.

The stalker dint move when I got up, so to calm the childs fear, I walked over to the palm tree repeating "Come out of the darkness where I can see you" when I got to the palm tree I saw that the shadow was one of the riot squad.

He replied "we are watching someone".

I looked around and suddenly I realized that there wasn't one of them, the were heaps of them, hiding behind my car and trailer, on the other side of the road, I was totally surrounded.

"What are you up to?" I asked him, still not sure if I was the one they were watching, there were a few other people around.

"You have been bagging us all weekend with your swastika sign" said another of the policemen.

I replied "Not you personally brother, its who you work for."

He said "I work for the crown".  Another female police voice said "we are just doing our job."

I replied, that's what they said up at Timbarra when they were putting cyanide and arsenic in the river, the police were there defending them saying "I'm just doing my job" . How much has all this policing cost and who put you up to it?

"Ask him, he's the boss" said a 4th police voice pointing to 20 or more police heading my way and particularly at a little red faced chap who wasn't wearing bullet proof sunglasses. As he walked past, I introduced myself to him. I asked him my question. How much has all this cost and who put you up to it? He turned his nose up and walked away, totally snubbing me.

I turned around and continued my conversation with the first dozen of so police who still had me surrounded.

"You are here because we stopped the logging and the mining and most of us use cannabis, you use it as an excuse." I continued to answer my question about why the riot squad were in Nimbin for quite some time, it seemed like they were listening, I wasn't threatening, I really felt I was explaining about who we are and what we are about, I felt I was getting through. When I had finished they all tried to talk to me at once.

You know whats' its like to have 5 or 7 people talk at you at the same time and then try and come up with an answer that will satisfy all of them, if you don't, let me tell you its impossible.

I started to reply to the barrage of questions, I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I do work for the Nimbin Environment Center, I am trying to heal the world. Soon as I said the word heal. A woman's voice said "I suppose you can levitate Jesus", a mans voice said "Yeah, let's see you levitate Jesus". I replied "Yes". Another voice said "come on then show us".

So I turn around to the small crowd that were still around and said "They want me to play".

I thought I would show them what I showed the magistrate during my 22nd sniffer dog trial, a capowera demonstration which is basically a cartwheel with no hands. Now, I had better warn you about a few things about doing a cartwheel with no hands. First thing is to make sure you do one cartwheel with your hands to gather the momentum to levitate your way through the second, make sure you have completely warmed up all your muscles and perhaps most importantly of all, don't be wearing no long Jesus looking robes when to try to fly.

Instead of a magnificent spectacle of mind over matter...., as I dove into the first cartwheel a police woman moved into the "hodda" - which is what a capowera performance space is called - I  was at the highest arc when her hat hit my foot, or my foot hit her hat? Either way in capowera even the slightest physical contact means stop. I managed to stop although I landed all tangled up in the Jesus robe.

I said "I'm sorry, that was an accident" as I started to get to my robe tangled feet, I had both my arms stretched out to her, "Are you okay? " She stepped forward into my fingertips and said "he's grabbed me that's an assault", I said "You know in your hearts it was an accident". Next thing I feel is the riot squad handshake, basically they twist your wrist so that you can't move your arms. I heard one of them say "it was an accident" as they dragged me off to the station, where I was charged with assault. "Righto Jesus, sit down over there and shut up". 

To hear what I said next, join me at Lismore Court on;

 the 12th of march 2007

Free the Bundjalung

The BIG Dream is to return the custodianship of the land between the Tweed and the Clarence rivers FROM the Australian Government TO the native aboriginals (Budjalung) and a group of elected non-aboriginal people, the first step towards the big dream is to start with a smaller area, a province - not unlike the ones the Canadian, Greenland, Alaskan and Russian Governments enabled for the Inuit. The rainbow region province will be 'enacted' in the remnants of the rain forest in the western sector of the caldera of Wollumbin (Mount Warning), approximately where the Tweed/Gold Coast, Lismore and Kyogle councils meet, roughly, the old Terrania Shire Boundary. To this end I will be campaigning throughout the Rainbow Region, talking up the BIG Dream and talking about taking the next "provincial step" and asking for "expressions of Interest" from every inhabitant of the rainbow region. (door to door if necessary ;0)
 

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, it's a garden and it's a seed of life in the universe and we are all children upon it and it's time to move on, time to get back to the garden.


om

rusty

</END = Press release from the Rainbow Bunker. >

THE RASTA WHOSE BALLS WERE SNIFFED
By Bongo Paterson

A sniffer dog from Sydney town was unleashed on Byron Bay,
  She wandered in the streets and parks, she searched about all day
She snuffled here, and snuffled there, but no drugs were found to sniff,
  Until at last, in Railway Park, that dog she copped a whiff.
  "Ere, get away, ya nasty mutt', a Rasta was heard to shriek,
  That bloody dog just stuck her snout right where I take a leak'.

The copper with the pooch was brash, as young coppers mostly are
  He wore a badge of shiny steel, and carried a truncheon bar,
  A humourless galoot, he said: "Respect my authority..'
  I don't give a damn, Rastafarian, if my dog sniffed where you pee.
  You're carrying dope, you renegade, a joint rolled up with grass.
  And so I'm gunna nick you; now get up off your ass'.

There were some slightly stoned young chaps, sitting in the park
  Their eyes were dull, their roaches stubbed, their brains had lost somes park
  At them the copper gave a sneer, twisting up his cold, cruel mouth,
  "You're just a bunch of useless stoners, said the walloper from down south
  I'll make a show of your ganga mate, for the carrying of his weed.
  When next you see this druggo fiend, it'll be "guilty' that he'll plead'.


A groan was all the reply he got, as he carted poor Rasta off,
  to charge him with a drug offence, for the carrying of his pot.
  Yeah, that copper with the dog was chuffed, and paused awhile to gloat
  "You're lucky she only sniffed your balls, and didn't rip your throat.
  You dirty rotten bastards, smoking weed as if it's right,
  It's time you all got sent to jail, 'twould give you all a fright'.
   
Rasta gave a wild up-country yell that might wake the straights to hear,
  And though the copper had him tightly cuffed, that Rasta showed no fear
  He struggled gamely at his bonds, and faced the callous cop
  "Your dog's invaded my personal space, by Jah I'll make you stop
  parading here with a druggo pooch, in your uniform of fear
  Causing trouble for those with hooch; not those all filled with beer.'

He challenged the search in a court of law, and by the 23rd bout,
  The magistrate, he could bear no more, and threw the charge right out.
  After four long years of pot-laced farce, each hearing a protest gathering
  The beak had simply had enough; led from the bench still blathering,
about tribal drums, the constant beat, he was haunted by all who spliffed,
  Crying "Justice! Bloody Justice," for a Rasta whose balls were sniffed

They gathered again in that Byron park, on the day the Rasta won,
  He galloped his horse straight from the court; shouting "Justice has been done'
  Passing round the reefers, he cried: "The law's been proved a joke,
  It was the druggy dog which broke the rule set up for those who toke.
  Yeah, there were photos in the papers, and he made TV that night,
  For all Aussies love a battler, with the guts and pride to fight.
   
And now around the parks and streets, in weed-filled Byron town,
  all tokers reminisce about when the bastards were worn down.
  "Them coppers with their druggo dogs are nowhere to be seen,
  Since they sniffed the Rasta's family jewels, and put him before the Queen.  
  And whether it'll ever change the law, there's one thing to remark,
  that hand-rolled spliffs were glowing that night, throughout the Byron park.
 

Rusty on the cruxifix outside Byron Bay Police Station Easter 2001 ?

 Rusty's teeshirt says- You can't stop Christiania

Rusty's teeshirt translated = You can't Stop Christiania !
photo by Tao Jones

Click here to find out what
you can do to help Rusty

 Click here for Rusty's crucifixion at the
Byron Bay 'Who Let the Dogs Out" Rally Easter 2001

ROUND 13: Byron bay courthouse 23rd October 2003

Round 14: Lismore February 12th 2004

 

 


Rusty Harris, Musician, visionary, Permaculturist, Grandfather and Earth Defender, instantly recognizable from the extraordinarily popular "The Earth is to be a Garden" postcard, has released a C.D. of the same title, which tells the story of the motivation and experiences behind the message.

The C.D. tells the story of the Golden Babies - spirit entities that are to be born into human bodies, but are too afraid to enter this world in its present tumultuous state - they call for our help to spread the message, "the earth is to be a garden".

To buy a copy of the C.D. for $15 AUD within Australia and $20 AUD for international including postage click here.


 

.....imagine....

.....permaculture cities....

.....something shaped like a strangler fig, like the kind you find in a rain forest, all made out of the fiber of the hemp plant, with great big arms and at the end of the arms would be like ponds over flowing, dripping.......

.....and the leaves of the tree would shape the water as it fell, gently pointing each drop in the right direction......

.....and the tree that they created was alive, with the help of all the gardeners and the help of all the people of the earth it became a seed of life in the universe.....

.....buildings like mushrooms in dome like circles on the tree, pulsing in an out with air filters, each with light redirecting crystals shining the light to exactly where it's needed in the garden.......

......with water spinning around and a dome of water as an aura around it all......

Click here to find out what
you can do to help