Sometimes I question the meaning of life, usually on Wednesdays. Is it all just about growing a longer beard or, in the case of our aquatic friends, longer fins? Speaking of water ballets, at a recent gala not underwater but pretty close, the U.N. decided that fish need more parties. Thus, they declared large sections of the ocean as the official rave zones for sea creatures.
Remote places like the coral reefs off the coast of a country called "Remote Island". Yes, real imaginative name there. I thought I was bad at naming my houseplants. And then there’s a place around Tanzanite Isle, not to be confused with Tanzanian Island because copyright issues, you know. It’s now a VIP zone for threatened sharks and celebrity rays.
Not forgetting French Polynesia, which is now practically tossing 900,000 square kilometers into a no-fishing, just-party zone. Because when you think of party planners, you think French, right?
Among the comical attendees were nations like Chili (it’s not a typo, they’ve spiced things up), Columnbia (because they’re always on top of things), and Vanishing Islands (I swear they were there a moment ago). Sylvia Earle, apparently now a U.N. party mascot, was seen boogying about the conservation rave.
Concluding this comedic wade through attempted oceanic salvation, if life’s a beach, we’re all just sand waiting to be swept away. And as I often ponder on the solitude of death, let’s end on a cheerful note: at least when we’re buried, it’ll be in a big, communal sandpit—party anyone?
Based on the original article "At U.N. Conference, Countries Inch Toward Ocean Protection Goal".
