The Beaconsfield mine affair: it's a conspiracy

One thing is becoming obvious: the whole Beaconsfield mine accident and rescue was a setup. If you saw footage of Todd Russell and Brant Webb emerging, with a spring in their step like a couple of newborn lambs, into the merciless blare of television cameras after two weeks of supposedly being trapped in a prostrate position a kilometer below the surface in a wire cage, you will understand what I mean. We were told that they had nothing to eat, and only dribbles of water to drink, for six days before anybody was aware they had survived the supposed tremor that had brought tons of rock down onto their control cabin. Another day had supposedly elapsed before a supply tube was drilled through to them bringing them life-saving food and water and another whole week before the rescue team finally released them from their tomb. Yet here they were, skipping like school children on a picnic at Hanging Rock.

I, too, was fooled when I watched the live broadcast of their triumphant trip — each in his own ambulance — to the Launceston General Hospital. But I must admit that I began to get a bit suspicious when they were both released a few hours later with a clean bill of health — no serious kidney problems in spite of going without water for so long, no signs of deep vein thrombosis in spite of two weeks of being restricted in a prone position and unable to make any but the smallest of movements.

Upon escaping, they quickly appointed a public relations team to handle the publicity for them. And just in time, too, as the first of no doubt many more television appearances occurred. We were all enthralled when they spoke of their amazing ordeal. We were particularly inspired by their account of the pact they made; if necessary, they would cut off each other's legs with a Stanley knife if they had no choice. I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? That bit of horrifying heroism was made up by script writers who were in on the act.

Let's face it. Any group of determined and experienced miners could come up with a plan to enrich themselves by organizing a rock fall and making it look like they had become trapped when all the while they were living in luxury in a well-provisioned underground bunker, waiting for the right moment to emerge. All they needed was a dozen or so trustworthy co-conspirators to pull the whole thing off. The mine manager had to be in on the act. So too did the rescue crew and the specialist explosives expert flown in from the other side of the country. Not to mention the story spinners. They were all willing to swear to a code of secrecy in the knowledge of the riches it would bring them. Two million dollars has already been promised. And that's before McDonalds gets in on the act; can you believe it — one of the miners supposedly relayed a message to the outside world saying that what he was really looking forward to when he finally got out was a Mackers meal. What an obvious setup.

Oh yes. And by the way. The Da Vinci Code conspiracy is true, too.