Lev Lafayette's journal

The third part of the conference proceedings involved two nights in the nearby city of Wuxi, which I had visited only several days prior on holiday. Staying at the rather impressive Juna Hubin Hotel, a morning was spent at an industrial park, specifically for electric scooters and bikes of various makes and models, which are widespread throughout the major cities. I was particularly impressed by one which had the capacity for self-driving! I can imagine a future where we'll simply zip around in a self-driving easychair with a coffee and book whilst our vehicle takes us to our destination. After that was a visit to a precision textiles company, which, whilst being the manufacturing centre for some major name brands, didn't quite interest me at the same level. In the afternoon, we finished our conference with a very enjoyable visit to Wuxi's Huishan Old Town and gardens.

With a car deciding to merge into our bus the previous day (our bus was scratched, the car lost three panels), it made narrative sense that, following a return to Nanjing, that the airline company cancelled my flight from to Guangzhou, and then couldn't find my initial booking when arranging a replacement. When I was finally booked on a late-night plane, we found ourselves stuck on the tarmac due to inclement weather. Never mind, everything sorted itself out and I finally made it in their air with a three-hour layover at Guangzhou airport in the middle of the night, before taking the nine-hour flight back to Melbourne town.

I took this window of opportunity to finish the final written requirements for the second course in my doctoral studies (I still find doctoral coursework strange at best). This was a major project on a public debate in New Zealand between two opposing views in climate science, with my former professor and IPCC lead author, James Renwick, debating a soil scientist and AGW "sceptic", Doug Edmeades. Whilst trying to be as charitable as possible, Edmeades engages in extremely sloppy cherry-picking of data and shows a profound lack of understanding of even the basics of climate physics. It is so bad that I am tempted to suggest that he is engaging in malice rather than ignorance, as it seems perplexing that one could complete a scientific doctorate whilst being at odds with scientific methodology. I think I will be writing to him to find out why.

I have again taken the silver bird to China, this time to Nanjing in an official capacity, namely, for the Jiangsu People-to-People Conference and 70th Anniversary Commemoration of the JSPAFFC (Jiangsu Provincial People's Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries). Nanjing, all from my limited experience, is quite a different city from others I have visited in China. Famous for its scholarship, universities, and students, the tree-lined streets have a more gentle (but still vibrant) pace than other cities, and in many ways, it reminds me of inner-city Melbourne. Arriving a day earlier than other conference attendees at the slightly famous Jingling Hotel, I decided to visit the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall, because I'm such a cherry bundle of joy, right? This event, which has haunted me for many decades since I first learned about the event, refers to the brutal Japanese fascist invasion in 1937 of what was then China's capital city. After the city fell, the invaders brutally killed more than 300,000 people (roughly a third of the population of the city at the time) in the next forty days in what has not-euphemistically been called "The Rape of Nanjing". If you can imagine the worst possible atrocities that humans are capable of carrying out, turn it up even higher on the dial, then maybe then you have the Nanjing Massacre.

The Memorial Hall is a vast complex dedicated to preserving the memory of these events and is perfectly organised, starting from the social and political environment prior to the invasion, the collapse of the seriously out-gunned defending Chinese army against the invasion, the occupation itself, the few foreigners who tried to protect civilians and record events, the international court cases following the war, and, interestingly, concluding exhibits on the importance of the memorial and the desire of peace with forgiveness. With written, photographic, and video records from the events, interviews of survivors, and even a hall of a mass grave unearthed in situ, the hundreds of other attendees made their way through with great quietude - I noticed four others of European background present at the time. If you ever find yourself in Nanjing, put aside a few hours at least to visit this "must-see" memorial and give homage to the victims.

It was a curious juxtaposition from horror to beauty that immediately afterwards I would visit the nearby Cloud Brocade Museum, dedicated to the silk weaving and Yun brocade style. It had some very charming pieces, and quite a good story to tell about the development of the craft, along with many quite superb examples and contemporary pieces for sale. Despite the size of the building, the entire museum can be easily completed within an hour, and I get the sense that the exhibition is still in development. Continuing a more aesthetic bent, that evening I ventured to the Confucian temple area of Fuzi Miao. This is pretty much what it says on the tin: a bustling area of vendors, restaurants, and, of course, temples, all beautiful in architecture, historical in content, and located alongside a river and surrounded by parkland. Of course, as is befitting such a place, it is a very popular haunt for numerous young women engaging in historical cosplay.

Leaving the canals and silk stores of Suzhou, the next part of the trip was the nearby city of Wuxi, which is a relatively small 7 million people, notable for the rather beautiful Taihu Lake and freshwater pearl production. After a day there, the next stop was Hangzhou, which, along with Wuxi, is rather notable as a scientific research hub. It is also a very convenient base to visit the rather astounding Longmen Ancient Town, famous for its Qing dynasty buildings. Inhabitants of the town like to claim that they're all descendants of the Emperor Sun Quan, who had Longmen as his hometown almost 2000 years ago. In many ways, it was like visiting some of the preserved medieval streets in some European cities (e.g., Barcelona, Freiburg), but it was superior to both those examples in authenticity. Hangzhou is also famous for its tea and tea research, so a visit to the Meijiawu Tea Village was also in order; delicious and educational.

The final leg of the trip was to Shanghai, a truly astounding metropolis with an estimated 27 million people. Situated at the mouth of the Yangtze River, astoundingly important for trade, the city is famous-notorious for being carved up by foreign powers (French, British, American) with extraterritoriality and consular jurisdiction. If anything positive can be said of these impositions, it would be Shanghai's deserved reputation as a cosmopolitan city and the existence of some fine 19th-century Western colonial architecture alongside the very modern skyscrapers, many with their own truly innovative designs. Alas, my enjoyment of these surrounds was knocked down by a day when I was struck with a literal 24-hour 'flu. One evening, I was shaking, sweating, with joint-muscular pain, convinced that I had COVID or similar, and, after a day's complete rest, I was perfectly fine. Which was just in time for a meeting with representatives of the Shanghai People's Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries (they need a snappier title).

The following day was off to the airport for the overnight flight back to Melbourne. Capsule movie reviews for the journey back: "Panda Plan", Jackie Chan slapstick with an utterly improbable plot 1/5; "Los Tonos Mayores", a teenaged girl starts receiving coded messages through a metal plate in her arm, another superb example of Spanish-language magical realism, mystery, and psychodrama 4/5; "Complètement cramé!" French-English film starring John Malkovich pretending to be a butler for the nostalgia of where he and his recently deceased wife first met. The film location (Château du Bois-Cornillé, Bretagne) is beautiful, the characters and their interactions fascinating, but it's very weak on theme, 3/5. Thus ends a ten-day whirlwind trip to five eastern Chinese cities. The hotels were all excellent, the food is excellent, the Internet is terrible, and the country safe and pleasant. My next trip? In a week to Nanjing.

Last Saturday was my last day in Melbourne for the next two weeks, and it witnessed four significant events. The first was the Isocracy Annual General Meeting discussing the rather extraordinary results of the Federal election. Our guest speaker, John Bade, is a former Liberal Party member of some note (branch president, state council delegate etc) and spoke on how the party really has been taken over by extreme religious activists who think the rest of Australia must move to them, a major factor in that party's decline. Afterwards, I went to the Effective Altruism conference, which concluded with a public lecture by famous ethicist Peter Singer. I spent a bit of time in the company with Adam Ford, who was the official photographer for the event, and then conversed a bit with Prof Singer about his earlier publications and rats (he's a rat fancier himself and speaks highly of them as animal companions). To conclude the evening I went to final session of "Notre Dame After Dark" at the Immigration Museaum, because the opportunity to hear some fine music in such surroundings was quite enticing.

The next morning, Erica and I ventured out to the airport to take the big silver bird to China, where we are staying for the next ten days. The first day was pretty much entirely in transit, first to Shanghai, then taking a connecting flight to Beijing. There is not much to report on this, except to say that the flight was tolerable, the food fine, the staff excellent, and the in-house entertainment limited. "Sirrocco" is a surreal children's animated film of escapism of sisterly love which can appeal to adult viewers with good characterisation and plot, but the animation, whilst creative, lacked a little in technique; 4/5. "Dune 2" was well produced with a good soundtrack, but I felt no sense of appeal with the plot and characters all based around violence and machismo. I am tempted to give it another viewing as I was surprised by how bad it was; 2/5. "Solitude" started slowly, but developed into a grim and tragic tale of loneliness, generosity, and an intergenerational friendship with an ambiguous ending; 3/5.

The first day proper in Beijing started with a visit to Tian'anmen Square, which, of course, is flanked by several important national buildings (e.g., the parliament). The square itself is just a vast courtyard, and it's fascinating in its blandness, even if, with all the usual connotations of Chinese geomancy, it represents the head of the city's land dragon. After that, we went to Qianmen Avenue (the body), which has some rather charming alleyways running parallel to the main drag. In the evening, we were treated to a rather extraordinary theatrical piece, "The Golden Mask", a legendary tale. This show has, in my somewhat considerable experience, the most extraordinary set and costumes, including several performers with actual live white peacocks as part of their costumes and a literal flooding of the stage. Two more days in Beijing are planned, including an excursion to The Great Wall, an evening in the Old City, and finally a morning in the Museum Palace (aka the Forbidden City). But all that will have to wait for the next post on this adventure.

Yesterday I wrote a remembrance-valediction on Rocknerd for former bassist, record-label owner, vocalist, and lyricist, Dave Allen. It was almost forty years ago that I was initially introduced to his extraordinary acumen with the bass guitar through Shriekback, and further explorations would lead me into his involvement in the punk-funk fusion, Gang of Four. Rather like another famous bassist of the period and postpunk style, Joy Division-New Order's Peter Hook, Allen would often play the bass like a lead guitar and dominate a track. I find myself quite affected by his passing; not just because of because I've loved his music for so long, but also because he spent his last several years living with early-onset dementia, a truly horrible illness. For those unfamiliar with his work, I can recommend three particular tracks which really highlight his style; "Damaged Goods" by Gang of Four, "Lined Up" by Shriekback, and, what I consider his anthem, also by Shriekback, "My Spine Is the Bassline".

Continuing the theme, late last night I finished the University of Edinburgh course on "Fundamentals of Music Theory"; I took a lot longer than expected, but, of course, I have a busy life. The content was quite impressive, but there was something that didn't quite gel with me about the presentation. It was neither as comprehensive as J. Allen's Augsburg University course on Udemy, nor the snappy interest of their introductory "Music Theory for Electronic Music Producers". I rather feel I have enough theory notes to compile my own publication on the matter (educator's secret: which is a form of learning its own right), but for the time being, I'll stick to my beginner's practice. My aim in the next few months is to get some competence with Sakamoto's "Solitude" and Satie's "Gymnopédie No. 1". But baby steps first, of course.

Finally, a few evenings prior, Julie A., Nitul D., Emily R., and I caught up at the Hanson Dyer Hall to see a performance of Schnittke's "String Trio". which also included the world premiere of Australian composer Angie Coffey’s "Draevon" and was introduced by Schubert String Trio no. 1. The performance was very well introduced with a little biography of the composers, a little bit of theory, and a personal story of being in the company with Schnittke. Schnittke was a Soviet composer who, finalising this particular piece, suffered a stroke and was declared clinically dead on three occasions before revival, curiously matching his own fascination with decay. Melancholic, brooding, sometimes dissonant and even aggressive. It's definitely worth a listen or three and a copy, with score, is available on YouTube and with Kenneth Woods providing an excellent and insightful analysis.

This past week has witnessed a great deal of the variation in my multidisciplinary life, but a dominant theme has been that it has been disciplined, and that even includes activities of pleasure. Part of it was spent doing the final calculations from my fundraising for the "Isla Bell Charitable Fund", which came to a rather pleasing $15689, even if there are a few payment stragglers. I believe this contribution will provide the initial steps to ensure that there is a practical legacy in her name. Another significant event was finishing off marking for the graduate course, "Cluster and Cloud Computing". For my own part, I've been working on an essay that combines interests in rhetoric - using the classic components from Aristotle (ethos, pathos, logos) and statistical analysis. One might be surprised how they are not that far apart and, as a practical example, my post from a few days ago on why Australian Liberals may wish to reconsider voting to empower Peter Dutton. In my regular linguistic activity, I found that I had topped the Diamond League in Duolingo, apparently for the 24th time, but more importantly, I have started an alternative built on Anki cards; "Liber Lingvo" (Esperanto for "free language"). Early days yet, but there's a solid start on Chinese there.

Speaking of Chinese matters, Sanda classes are back on, and I really enjoyed last Saturday's class. Sanda is just one of the exercise and dietary activities I have with my ongoing efforts to improve my weight, fitness, and musculature, all of which have resulted in weight loss just shy of 30kgs over the past ten months; yes, you read that right. I said that it was a lifestyle change, and I've kept to that commitment, because that's what I do. Still, I haven't neglected my social life with all this either. In the past few evenings I have caught up with my new friend and neighbour, Kate (a mental health nurse, which is truly an honourable profession) on a couple of occasions, firstly to see Michael Haneke movie adaption of Kafka's "The Castle", and tonight with Des, Robbie, and Josh to Eiko Ishibashi performing live to Ryusuke Hamaguchi's "Gift". Haneke's production was a faithful expression of Kafka's unfinished absurd story of theology and bureaucracy, whilst Hamaguchi's movie is a deeply immersive tale of environmentalism and human interaction with nature. Ishibashi's experimental and sometimes almost industrial score contributed enormously to the experience, and it was a joy to exchange a few words with a person of such talent afterwards. But such is my love of art and beauty in all its forms.

Over the past week-and-a-bit, the Australian Centre for Moving Images (ACMI) has been hosting a cyberpunk film festival and I have been fortunate enough to meander across the Yarra a few times to have a taste of these events. Of course, it makes a lot of sense that I should attend; as a self-identified cyberpunk from the 1980s in a dilapitdated duplex with multiple battered copies of Mirrorshades in circulation and our 1970s AlphaMicro AM-100 network along with our gothic rock band in residence, "The Accelerated Men". All such heady days from my well-spent youth, and it set a trajectory to who I am now and, I suppose the "Cyberpunk 2020: Year of the Stainless Steel Rat" conference that I hosted a few years back provided was both celebration and reminiscence. That was quite a day.

Anyway, the first film I watched was with Fiona C., was "Tetsuo: The Iron Man", a thoroughly arthouse production which is correctly described as being similar to the works of Lynch and Cronenberg where a metal fetishist gains their horrific wish and begins to transform into a metallic cyborg in all the wrong ways. Following this, Nitul D., and I caught up for a superb double, "Blade Runner" and "Blade Runner 2049". Those who know me at all know that I consider "Blade Runner" to be my favourite film for its prescience, the story, the characters and their development, and that "Blade Runner 2049" is a truly impressive sequel with a deeply satisfying story and presentation - all of which I have mentioned in the past when I reviewed the film on the LJ Cyberpunk group. Finally, on Monday eve, Liza D., and I ventured to see "Strange Days", which includes all I dislike about Los Angeles culture mixed with influences from David Cronenberg's "Videodrome" and the Rodney King LA riots of 1992 - but who remembers that, anyway? In addition, I managed to get to see the ACMI exhibition, "The Future and Other Fictions", which included various near future movie props (the models from Blade Runner 2049 and Bjork's dress from "The Gate" particularly caught my attention.

I am also going to take this opportunity to spend a few words on an old friend, Sean Doyle. Late last year, I had three friends shuffle off the mortal coil: a neighbour, a dear friend, and my mentor. Somehow, I missed at the time that Sean, who had worked at ACMI for many years, had also died, apparently whilst at his favourite holiday destination on Gabo Island. Sean and I were very good friends during the late 1990s when we did a fair bit of gaming together, along with our interests in left-of-centre politics and Melbourne's history. He was also quite the happy camper, an aficionado of folk music, and loved engaging in the fine arts. I hadn't seen much of him from that period onwards, however, for no particular reason, and whilst I had every intention to go, I missed the "celebration of his life" as I had a different household matter that demanded my attention. I am pleased that the celebration is available on YouTube . Valedictions, Sean. I loved your company, your sharp mind, your sense of the absurd, and your aesthetic sense.

There is much I could write about events over the past week. For example, the fact that the Gamers for Isla fundraiser has reached $10K, double my original objective. Or maybe a political post on the announcement and trajectory of the Australian election. Or perhaps even something on the progression of my studies, whether formal (climatology doctorate) or informal (music and poetry). Maybe even a work-related post with some adventures in installing obscure software on a supercomputer. How about a story for World Rat Day and the antics of my animal companions? All these will have to wait, as instead, I'll sing the praises of one Erica H., who celebrated her birthday this week.

Ever preferring a low-key event on such a day, unbeknownst to her I had plotted a slightly larger gathering. I had offered to take her out to the Royal Standard Hotel, a favoured dining establishment of mine from some twenty-five years ago, and then to a quasi-comedy theatre, "Jane Austen Improvised" which contains the words "Jane Austen" and "Improvised", both of which give me some concern. With a bit of plotting in the background I assembled a small group of friends to be already present at the Royal Standard when we arrived, and even more at the theatre itself. I think we made up a third of the audience at least. Erica was absolutely delighted with this surprise (she normally hates surprises), and I have no doubt that was helped by the light-hearted comedy of the performance, which remained thematically appropriate and, unlike many improv shows, managed to create a narrative with a satisfying conclusion. Mention must be made of Angela's wonderful dress-up, which stood out, even if a few of us (including myself) made half an effort in the frocking.

Those who know us, know that Erica and I have a lot of history. We've known each other for close to 35 years and were partners for around 17 and have remained good friends since then. We've shared houses and bought two homes together, travelled throughout her beloved Europe four times, Indonesia once, and goodness knows how many trips to New Zealand. We have shared and cared for a menagerie of cats, guinea pigs, and especially rats. We shared the same normative and political sense, with red blood and our hearts on the left, and very similar aesthetics formed by our gothic and punk youth. Erica is a person who speaks her mind and establishes her opinion; she is certainly one of my closest friends, my fairest critic, and one whom I trust completely. She is a person whom I have a Platonic love, and a curse on American popular psychology that has infected the minds of the many by establishing a binary opposition between Platonic and Romantic love (clearly, they have not read Plato's "Symposium"). Happy birthday, Erica, and thank you for being in my life for so many years.

In utilitarian philosophy, a "hedon" is a measure of pleasure, a "dolor" a measure of pain, and they occur in a period called "episodes". Well, the universe has blessed me in recent days with the visitation of my dear friend from Darwin, Lara D., who seems to appear with a surplus of hedons which she sprinkles around like Tinkerbell, if you can imagine a punkish version of the fairy with devilish horns. Appropriately, this period started with a visit to my old stomping ground in Carlton North to attend the launch of two new books from Rabbit Poetry Journal where a hundred people were squeezed into a space designed for fifty; Connor Weightman's "Fivehundred Swimming Pools" and Eva Birch's "Pearl". Weightman's style is lengthy, externalised, evocative and heavily descriptive as he navigates the effects of climate change. In comparison, Birch offers a filtered, refined, internalised and psychoanalytic view of the self. I offered these opinions to the two poets (knowing a little bit about climatology and psychoanalysis, and maybe even poetry), with their approval. Appropriately enough, it was also on the evening of World Poetry Day.

Continuing the aesthetic adventures, the following evening, Lara and I visited the newest exhibition of Van Gough at Lume. Having attended this "a few" times in the past, you might think there's nothing else to see, but the additions to the new VR landscape were surprisingly good (except for the active characters). The following day including a lengthy session at Anthony L's annual gathering at "Life's Too Short" with the usual suspects from the left-leaning political and diplomatic world. This was also an opportunity for Lara and Erica H., to finally meet, both of whom I share property with, albeit separated by over 5,000 kms. The following day, Lara also had the opportunity to meet Mel S. (who I don't own property with - yet) at the final Melbourne show of Buddhadatta at Gem Bar. This is the second time in recent weeks I've seen this self-described "legendary Buddhist punk sensation", who were supported by Gold Coast Leathers. Unsurprisingly, I have reviewed Buddhadatta on Rocknerd, which also follows a review I have just completed (completely different style, but also from Japan) of the haunting beauty in Sakamoto's Opus and Kagami.

The big news in my life in the past week was that I paid off my home loan for my Southbank apartment, the Rookery. I am one of those lucky people who, in the midst of COVID, took out a fixed-term loan and had sufficient money to pay it off but chose not to as interest rates increased beyond the rate. I actually made a little bit by not paying off my mortgage. However, the fixed period was coming to an end, so I paid it off before my interest rate increased from 1.9% to 6.8%. I've worked at making this apartment my own space: a combination of library and wunderkammer, increasingly an art gallery and nursery, and with a cosy mini-cinema with pleasant indirect lighting. Most of all, it is a peaceful environment where the ills and tumults of the world are left at the door.

At the very least, my pet rats, Mayday and Mayhem, seem to like the study as their abode. I've bought and constructed a cage for them, but their reaction to it indicates that they prefer to live behind the bookcase. Still, it will make a handy home for them when I travel and require rat-sitters to visit, and various creature comforts (hammocks, wheel) are on their way. Speaking of comforts, Aldi has a knock-off of the famous Squatty-Potty for less than $10, and of course,e I had to buy one. To this day, it has one of the best advertisements ever produced. Finally, with an impending interstate visitor in the form of Lara from Darwin, I have a plumber turning up next week to deal with a couple of minor watery annoyances.

If there was any sense of celebration in paying off my home loan, I guess it took the form of Erica H., and I going to see "KAGAMI" at the Melbourne convention centre last night. This production by Tin Drum with Ryuichi Sakamoto provided an exceptional virtual reality photogrammetry performance, in which Sakamoto collaborated in the production, knowing full well that his cancer was going to get the better of him. It was like being in a performance with a ghost, with extraordinary clarity. I found myself sitting next to the apparition of Sakamoto, less than two metres away, watching the quiet passion of his facial features, the movement of his hair and, of course, his fingers dancing across the virtual piano as he provided beautiful and impassioned music. Of course, I will be writing about this for Rocknerd, but for now, his dulcet tones are on constant repeat in the Rookery.