Barry Manilow as the ultimate weapon

We have written several stories about the growing interest in non-lethal weapon systems. This story from down-under tells of taking “non-lethal” to a new level.

The small city of Christchurch, New Zealand, suffers from what many other small cities and suburbs suffer: Hundreds of bored, nothing-to-do teenagers who roam the malls, making noise, covering walls with graffiti, and disrupting commerce. Following the example of Rockdale, a small city on the outskirts of Sydney, Australia, the authorities on Christchurch have adopted the… Barry Manilow sonic weapon. Yes, yes; Barry Manilow. The Australian experiment showed that Manilow’s music can serve as the ultimate deterrent against “mallrats,” so Christchurch intends to pipe the elevator-music crooner through the central mall district, letting Mandy and Can’t Smile Without You (to say nothing of the ultimate weapon: I Write the Songs) do what law enforcement officials have so far failed to achieve: purge the streets of unruly teens who regularly graffiti walls, get high on booze and drugs and abuse innocent passers-by.

Central City Business Association manager Paul Lonsdale told AP: “The intention is to change the environment in a positive way… so nobody feels threatened or intimidated. I did not say Barry Manilow is a weapon of mass destruction.” The plan has apparently gone well down with the 400-odd businesses affected by the youth menace, but the kids themselves simply laughed in the face of Manilow. Sixteen-year-old Emma Belcher insisted: “We would just bring a stereo and play it louder.” Lonsdale responded to this challenge by threatening decibel-excessive hoodies with the city’s anti-noise laws.

We note that in the United States and United Kingdom, so far at least, the authorities have opted to spare errant children the fearful Manilow treatment, and just let them off with some light Taser gun stunning treatment.

We note that using music as weapon is not new. In December 1989 U.S. forces invaded Panama in order to put an end to the drug-running regime of President Manuel Noriega (in fact, he gave himself the title “Maximal Leader”). The American military made short shrift of the Panamanian gangs defending Noriega, and surrounded his presidential palace. In an effort to avoid storming the building, U.S. Army’s psychological operations officers recommended surrounding the building with large loudspeakers, and then blasting it non-stop with very loud music. The army chose the most devilish music it could lay its hands on: The Birthday Party, Pussy Galore, Sonic Youth, the Sex Pistols, and the Rolling Stones (an extremely scratched copy of Beggar’s Banquet). Noriega came out with his hands raised after less than twenty-four hours of that musical cocktail.