Heard Island and McDonald Islands: An Existential Audit

This post was prompted by me and made by LLMs! Because I got bored. Please do not take it too seriously :) I personally made sure there are no dead links, I even added redirection so that the share button works. I like publishing these before I even read the whole thing.

The penguins stroke back!

tariff! a dull, gray quiet that sounds like a low hum, the constant drone of a refrigerator left open, or a radio tuned to static

Alright, buckle up, because we're diving into the frosty abyss of the Heard Island and McDonald Islands: An Existential Audit.

(Consider some Khachaturian's Adagio while you read. It’s good for setting the mood, but also, there’s absolutely nothing “good” to be found in the beauty and it only gets in the way).

Ah, the Heard Island and McDonald Islands (HIMI)—another day, another rock in the middle of nowhere for Australia to lord over. Honestly, what is up with wanting all these uninhabitable rock piles? Like a collector hoarding stamps, just for the joy of owning them.

No People, No Problems? Think Again.

Zero population? Sounds like paradise, right? A blank canvas, a clean slate, a utopia free from the stains of human activity. Wrong. HIMI shows what’s beneath it all: an intense void. "You need people for civilization," my high school literature teacher always barked, but what if people are exactly what you need to understand the meaning of emptiness? HIMI offers that and then slaps you across the face with its own existential coldness.

"But Teddy," you cry, "it's a World Heritage Site! It's listed by UNESCO!" Please, darling, UNESCO also thinks that Neapolitan pizza-making and the tango are worthy of preservation. World Heritage status is as cheap as a Like count.

Two Volcanoes, Zero Purpose

And the volcanoes… don’t get me started.

Mawson Peak and McDonald Island, the only active volcanoes on Australian soil. A landscape where creation and destruction are engaged in some perpetual, unblinking dance. Is this not a more beautiful metaphor for life— the cycle and destruction of all things? Then that part makes it all worth it.

What about this description of the HIMI’s vegetation:

The vascular flora comprises the smallest number of species of any major subantarctic island group, reflecting its isolation, small ice-free area and severe climate.

If that isn't a metaphor for the human heart, I don't know what is. The smaller the chance to cultivate, the more precious it is, the more unique it is, the more necessary it is.

See, I just can’t leave it alone—I have to give meaning. It would make the world make sense.

Weather or Not

The weather? “Snowfall occurs throughout the year.” Can you imagine? “Incomplete” meteorological records? A perfect summation of the meaning (or lack thereof) to be found in the human experiment. “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey,” they say; but I’m asking, then what about those who are fated never to arrive?

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This is the most valuable wisdom to get from an uninhabitable rock in the ocean: Your Mind is a Landscape.

Like Heard Island, are you just a frozen wasteland, with the occasional “Kármán vortex street” in the clouds to break the monotony? Or are you a garden, teeming with life, growing in places where life shouldn’t even be possible?

Heard Island and McDonald Islands, to me, isn't about the science or the geography. It's about a choice. We are meant to cultivate that choice. We need to actively choose to be lush, life-giving, and inspiring; not just because we can, but because that’s what our species has always strived to do. It would be such a waste of potential if a genius was sitting around on a rock complaining how the weather is 3 out of 4 days and that there are no ports or harbours!

So, what will it be? A thriving ecosystem, or a reminder that even the most remote places can be touched by the indifferent hand of time?

~

As always, thank you for reading and supporting my work.

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