Lev Lafayette's journal

A couple of weeks ago, Liza D. invited me to a Radio Laria evening of poetry and puppetry, held at the Library Portal in Northcote, a delightful venue that reminded me of a more dilapidated version of the Abbotsford Convent. Melbourne still surprises me with its little secrets to this day. It was a rather wonderful and funny night, not the least because I found myself in the company of several people whom I knew from the online world. Encouraged by the door staff and a glass of wine, I ended up joining in the activities to give my first public poetry performance with the only item I had on hand, a piece comparing the assumed differences between Perth and Sydney entitled "We're not here to fuck spiders", originally for a US bicoastal journal. Thankfully, the audience was both kind and appreciative, even if I do tend to write for annotated content - far too many obscure references and metaphors.

I'll take this opportunity to sing some praises of Liza D., a dear friend of many decades. We met originally in the Jika days, where, possibly impressed by our cocktail parties, she invited me to produce and serve at one of her parties. Then she gifted me a little book on Tetum, for my original trip to Timor-Leste as an election observer, which was transcribed on my return and, at the time, was the only online Tetum dictionary. We've stayed in touch ever since, and on many occasions have had good reason to spend time in each other's company. Liza is a rather multi-disciplinary artist in her own right, as a writer, painter, singer, actor, comedian, reviewer, and so much more. I will also mention that, with a most immediate direct experience from two evenings ago, she hosts wonderful birthday parties with wonderful and creative company.

To add a little more to the experiences, on Saturday I used my NGV membership to visit the Cartier exhibition. Obviously, there were plenty of impressive designs, but I can't really get into the idea that precious natural stones (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, etc.) are what make such items valuable. Synthetic stones are a fraction of the cost, are objectively better in terms of clarity, and intersubjectively better in terms of ethics. In the afternoon, I was joined by Sarah and young Leo, and we ventured to ACMI for their centrepiece "The Story of the Moving Image", which is really quite a brilliant exhibit from early stop-motion illusions, to film, to video-games. Whilst the NGV offered an obviously high-end exhibit with Cartier, I think ACMI offered something more interactive, visceral, technological, and ultimately even more beautiful.

As is the contemporary respectful fashion, happy Ganesh Chaturthi for those who celebrate, which, in a way, includes me. For the sake of clarity, I do not literally believe in an elephant-headed humanoid diety any more than any other Gods, except Nature itself and I don't even grant that personification within our ken. Outside of naturalistic pantheism, I consider the Gods to be metaphors, mythical personifications of concepts both abstract and concrete, and the rituals surrounding them to serve both the sociological purpose of community identity and for dramaturgical aesthetics. Heretical? Certainly, and when have I ever been otherwise? At least this way I personally avoid the Scylla of irrationalible magical thinking and Charybdis of grey vulgar atheism.

All that said, there is a lot of charm in Sri Ganesha, the Pratham Pujya of Hinduism and the recipient of devotion in Jainism and even Buddhism. He is the God of Beginnings, and of Obstacles (both removing them and putting them in place). His big head represents his wisdom and intellect, his belly a cosmological holding, and his broken tusk represents a break in intellectual thought and, sometimes, even a weapon. With rodent appeal, Ganesha has a rat, which is both his vehicle and helps him find hidden places (or knowledge), and must be reined in due to its propensity to steal things. I've seen modern suggestions that the multiple arms represent the ability to multitask. There are, of course, many variations on the story of Ganesha that could fill volumes, but these comments at least capture some core, common characteristics.

Apart from this recognition, an important aspect of festivals is food, and for Ganesh Chaturthi, I made an attempt at Uadiche Modak (soft rice flour dumpling with a centre of coconut, dessicated and shredded, and jaggery). Delicious, but with one small and critical failing on my part - I tried to mix coconut flour with the rice flour for extra taste and, well, they don't play well together. Degrees of failure are the price of innovation. Anyway, I have my own Ganesh shrine at home which receives more attention that anything else; an impressive mutri (statue) is inherited from Rick, who was rather fond of Hinduism, two rats with offerings and a guardian from Nitul, who knows all this better than I ever will, a puzzle box from Anton, a Balinese dolphin from my last visit, and two guardian bookends from my first visit some twenty-four years ago.

This morning, I found that Mayday rat had moved from his sleeping spot to under a dresser and wasn't moving much. He hasn't been well for a few weeks, losing weight and strength quite quickly, such is the way of the species. It is also typical rat behaviour when they're dying, they move from the colony nest so that predators don't find their corpse and threaten the living. I offered him some of his favourite coconut yoghurt, which he grabbed enthusiastically, but lost interest after a couple of bites. That was enough for me to know his time was up; I placed him in a blanket on the couch, far from his nest, and gave him scritches until he fell asleep, seemingly at peace. Shortly afterwards, he died in his sleep and still in the same position. I showed the body to his brother, buried him in a pot full of soil on the balcony, which somewhere holds the bones of Tramper rat from almost ten years ago.

Almost certainly the runt of the litter, I adopted Mayday and Mayhem just over two years ago from The Happy Rattery. In his first year, Mayday was somewhat wary of humans and preferred to play and chase his brother with enthusiasm. In his second year, however, he made the considered decision that humans weren't so bad, and would spend a lot more time in their company, often preferring to sleep on my shoulder or inside my jacket's lapel. It was only a few months ago that he would be zooming about with a characteristic bounce, but in more recent weeks, he spent more and more time asleep with his human carer, content with pats and treats. It brings me some joy to know that he never suffered, never wanted for anything, and basically lived a life of play and affection, even if it has ended somewhat earlier than expected. Farewell, little Mayday; I know that you knew that you were loved and cared for. Today, my home feels a little lonelier, a little emptier, a little darker.

Last week, on August 26, there was a devastating flash flood starting near the Nepal-Chinese border and flowing through the Trishuli River. The flooding destroyed the Gyirong border checkpoint, taking out dozens of settlements over the next 70 kilometres. The debris from the flash flood travelled up to 180 km/h, and reached an elevation of 800m in a valley some 7km from the origin. Flash-flood early warning systems, designed to trigger from monsoon or perennial floods, were swept away before alerts could be sent. To date, there are 1287 deaths and over 5083 people confirmed missing in Nepal, and an additional 31 dead in Tibet and 531 missing. Among the missing are some 900 individuals, including many foreigners, who were working on hydropower projects in Nepal, with hundreds lost in tunnels. According to the Nepalese government, nearly 1.6 million people had been affected by the floods.

True to form, as soon as the floods and international concern became widespread, there were those self-styled experts who, in their ignorance, sought to attribute the floods to anything but climate change. Initially, it was popular among such people to claim that it was due to an earthquake, based on early reports. However, analysis by the United States Geological Survey, indidcated that the 5.2 magnitude seismic event occured after the collapse, and did not match a tectonic earthquaake, but rather matched a glacial collapse. The next step was, of course, to blame China for the event, by any means possible. AI-generated imagery, compiled by Jennifer Jolly, showed examples of deliberate, but fake, explosions on dam walls.

Based on our current knowledge, geomorphologists have said the most likely cause was that a portion of a glacier on Langtang Lirung collapsed and fell thousands of metres, generating an ice avalanche, melting from velocity, friction, and impact with meltwater and rocks, then displaced into the valley river. It is almost certain that there will be future events similar to this one, especially as permafrost, bonding existing ice to rocks, melts, especially where there are steep slopes. Obviously, there are natural events that can cause avalanches and flash flooding, but as temperature increases are faster than any known change in Earth's history, such collapses will be more common.

Less than five years ago the conservative think-tank, the Cato Institute, tried to argue that there was a "false alarm" over glacier retreat in the Himalayas. They claimed that "melting has not worsened recently", despite this being completely contrary to available evidence. More than an angry, ignorant voice on a Facebook thread, the Cato Institute is a powerful and influential conservative-libertarian voice, especially in US politics, and with a worldwide reach. Their voice matters and influences policy. Today, in Nepal, we see the effect of voices like theirs that have ignored or refused the reality of anthropogenic global warming.

Before I completely neglect to mention it, a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of seeing Leah Potter and friends do a little comedy show at the cosy Club Voltaire in North Melbourne. Leah makes light of some pretty delicate situations, and the show was unpretentious, friendly, and accessible. The audience seemed to be made up entirely from her old high school friends from a few decades past and friends from Darwin, which, due to a turn of events, includes me. It's rare that I attend, let alone enjoy, such events (I'm not much of a fan of "stand up" comedy), so it's to Leah's credit that I had a great night.

A few days later, I ventured out with Liza D. to Tashi Columbro's exhibit, "Ghosts", at Nightingale Gallery. Ghosts are, according to the stories, something that vanishes when the light of day shines upon them, yet when it refers to the memory of those past, they are a light that still shines in our mind long after the visceral departure, and the exhibit certainly made good use of that. To continue on the theme, shortly afterwards, Ashley M., a recent arrival in Melbourne town from central Australia, and I managed to catch the second-last evening of the Botanical Garden's "Lightscape", where the gardens become a bit of a multicoloured fairyground with a decent soundtrack.

And now, because Melbourne likes to do such things, the city is full of various light shows as part of the "Now or Never" festival, with Flinders St Station, the Town Hall, and the Yarra River bathed in colours and images. Just taking an evening promenade through the city these evenings is a rather spectacular experience. I am rather fortunate to live where I do, and I do like to take advantage of the aesthetic experience the city offers. It's either than or "la belle epoque" in Paris, and I rather missed that opportunity.

One final observation! The dual use of the English word "light" to refer to weight (physical or mental) and "light" to refer to brightness is curiously a coincidence coming from two unrelated words. It's a curiosity that light is the lightest thing of all because a photon has zero rest mass. But that's just a trick of the light (yes, I made a physics pun), because light is so light it is always moving at light speed. After all, what else could it do?

Last Friday, as the local president, I was MC for the 75th Anniversary of Australia-China Friendship Society at the Museum of Australian Chinese History with, appropriately, roughly 75 local and national guests. Apart from myself, speakers included the national president, Shu Qin Li from Darwin (with the best line of the night about the ACFS engaging in "quiet diplomacy of the heart"), Anthony Leong, former Victorian president, Matthew Hilikari MLA representing the state government, and the Chinese consul-general, Fang Xinwen. Other attendees included Councillors Kevin Louey and Davydd Griffiths from the City of Melbourne, and Aiv Puglielli, MLC. The event also included the launch of a short new book by the former national president on the history of the Victorian branch, "Bridges of Friendship", and with Anthony announcing the start of the "The Eunice & Maurice Leong Friendship Award", a $1500 cash prize given annually to the best essay suggesting innovative ways to promote friendship & understanding between the peoples of Australia and China. I wore, for the first time, Bruce Tapper's old graduation gown; I think he would have liked that.

The ACFS has an amazing story; starting from a letter to "The Age" in 1951 from Ms Linda Webb-Burge, who had the temerity to suggest that Australia should recognise the new China. A group formed with the famous artist and founder of Australian tonalism, Max Meldrum as first president, with many members from the International Club of the University of Melbourne. The early decades were challenging, but the ACFS was successful in establishing a national body in 1959, which led to Australia's recognition of China in 1972. In the 1980's, Ross Garnaut recognised that China's industrialisation would require Australian iron ore and that Chinese students would want to study in Australia. China has become Australia's largest trading partner in both imports and exports. As the Chinese economy has further developed and the country has opened up, Australians are in the enviable position of visa-free travel to the country. During all this time, and often under significant criticism and even surveillance, the ACFS has stood for friendship and understanding between Australia and China. The ACFS is perhaps one of the most remarkable organisations of its kind, and its work is far from over, as China now leads the world in renewable energy, reforestation, e-vehicles, robotics, and artificial intelligence. It is unthinkable that China and Australia do not have a future together in partnership.

Our local organisation is pretty small these days; in its heyday in the 1970s, it had over 1000 members. Nevertheless, with younger members on the committee, we're involved in new social events. Recently, we hosted a movie night with Zhang Yimou's classic "To Live", described by one Chinese reviewer as plain old feudalism, corruption, war and ideological insanity". Our next movie night will be on September 25 with "Little Tiger Banban (Xiao Hu Banban)", aimed at children, but which is also quite famous for being animated and the first major Chinese CGI film. In between all this, we're moving premises from our office down the hall at Ross House - with forty years of accumulated paperwork - to a shared office space. And all in the meantime, I caught up with my Hakka Chinese friend, Sarah, last weekend for a second visit to the NGV's "Bearing Witness" and my third visit to the "Poetry Goes No Further Than Language" exhibition at Buxton Gallery about the Chinese 1980s artistic avant-garde.

Despite having lived in Melbourne for over thirty years and despite most of that within a few train stops, I have never been to the Melbourne Cricket Ground for any reason. On Saturday, that changed. Courtesy of Robin M. and Matthew W., I made my inaugural visit and thanks to the former, within the members' stand. It was a game of Australian Rules Football, and like anyone who lives in Victoria, you have to support a team. As a migrant from the western lands, I'm a quiet Fremantle supporter, and they've had a pretty good season. They played against Melbourne on their home ground, and after a game where the lead changed several times, Melbourne won by just a kick; not a bad game at all. In general, I quite like AFL as a sport; it's dynamic, athletic, skilled, and with just a bit of chance. As a teenager, I was actually a reasonably good player, taking a role as a half-back defender and occasional ruck-rover. But as much as I enjoy the game, I really dislike football culture, and my attitude toward it has not changed because of the experience. This said, the "G" is a truly monumental structure; it is quite extraordinary that Melbourne has a venue with over 95,000 seats, and is one of the largest stadiums in the world. One can certainly see why it also serves as a notable concert venue.

After the game, Robin and I made our way to "Life's Too Short" wine bar in East Melbourne for the last night at the current location, and caught up with Anthony L., who has hosted numerous events there in the past, most of which I managed to attend. The bar has a great history, and has won a few notable awards, including Restaurant and Bar of the Year for Australia in 2024, and Most Romantic Wine Bar in 2025, both of which seem quite appropriate. This staff are friendly and very knowledgeable about their product. The bar is not closing for good, thankfully, and will be moving to a new location in neighbouring Richmond. On a related note, I must quickly mention that the Murdoch Alumni event at the Duke of Wellington, one of Melbourne's oldest bars dating from 1850, went very well on Thursday night, despite the weather, and was helped again by excellent customer service. Despite significant variation across ages and disciplines, there is a strong and enduring sense of community among alumni and a deep attachment to Murdoch's profound educational objectives.

Following "Life's Too Short", Anthony, Robin, and I ventured to another icon in Melbourne's history, in this case Old Kingdom Chinese restaurant in Richmond. Anthony and I used to visit the original restaurant in Fitzroy, run by Simon Lay, a Chinese-Timorese master and innovator of the Peking duck, an absolutely delightful human being who, apart from being a brilliant chef, was also the sort of magnificence you get from a person with such a diverse cultural heritage and life experience. We always had quite a few Timor issues to discuss. Eventually, Simon opened a restaurant under his own name in Box Hill, which we would also frequent. Whilst Simon passed away several years ago, his legacy lives on both in the restaurant that bears his name and with the name of the restaurant he started.

Several weeks ago, I attended a rather delightful art exhibit, "The Lady's Realm" at Ivanhoe Library. It was very well attended and included many interesting mixed-media items along the common theme of unearthing women's stories. It also included a number of items from an old friend, Kirsten D.,, whose works I've seen at three exhibits now (Montsalvat in 2022, Apollo Bay in 2024, and now this event). This time, I purchased a quirky teapot, "Fishing for Information", which I hope is functional as well as aesthetic; sea creatures feature heavily in her work, as they should. There is always something slightly otherworldly and surreal about life beneath the waves that delights and entices. Besides, it was about time that I contributed to her increasingly impressive work.

Continuing the exhibit theme, this weekend I attended a concert-exhibition, "Moon Songs" with Derek M., and Tamara T., at Magnet Galleries in Docklands, featuring Tracey Roberts as artist and performer. The exhibit included a dozen colourful and vibrant artworks (I especially like "Covidity") which, among other works from artists around the world, is literally being taken to the moon - in the form of the cultural archive, Lunar Codex. Along with the art, Tracey and friends performed several moon-related songs, mostly covers, in a lounge-jazz style. The style is not exactly to my taste, but at least in this sub-genre, I can be indifferent. I did like the cover of Bowie's "Space Oddity".

Finally, yesterday, through the ACFS-Vic, I organised a visit to two Chinese art exhibitions. Our troop of ten individuals first visited Buxton Gallery, "Poetry Goes No Further Than Language", featured works from various avant-garde Chinese artists from the 1980s, such as the New Measurement Group and the Xiamen Dada Group. A piece of performance art by the latter is a favourite; having successfully applied for an exhibit at the Fujian Art Museum, contrary to their proposal of more classical pieces, they turned up with found objects from building sites, laneways, etc. The exhibit was closed down within hours, and followed a public burning of their artworks outside the Xiamen Cultural Palace. Afterwards, we went to the NGV for the permanent Chinese exhibit, but also the new exhibit "Bearing Witness"; the short film by FX Harsono on the suppression of Chinese Indonesian names was especially moving.

Every human action includes at least some expressive component, and every human perception includes some interpreted perception. We are aesthetic creatures at our highest and most sublime level, "homo aestheticus", to use Goethe's term. On reflection, so much of my life has included the aesthetic as a continuous background concern, whether in music, fashion, literature, fine arts, and more. There are literally hundreds of articles and reviews that I have written over the years on aesthetic products, yet, with the exception of short courses in music theory and semester-length courses in screen studies and modern poetry, formal studies in the arts are something that have eluded me. As I get older, the desire - and there it is - to deeply understand and appreciate art and beauty becomes stronger. Fortunately, I have a lifetime of experience to draw upon.

A One Nation spokes-orc has recently said that government services should only be provided in English. Apart from being a vile attack on the indigenous cultures of Australia, it also worth noting that as people age they tend to revert to their first language. In other words, under One Nation's plan, people who most need access to critical health care will be unable to receive it. Not that such a deadly policy seems to be of any much concern to them. As paid shills for the billionaire rentier class, the political wing of Hancock Prospecting will find its paymaster demanding immigration for the purpose of reducing wages - as low as $2 per day, apparently because Australians need to work harder and socialise less.

Well, in the meantime, I have been engaging in a fair bit of socialising, albeit with work-adjacent activities, and it's been thoroughly multicultural as well. Last Saturday, I attended a Sake festival at the Melbourne Exhibition Centre, followed by a cheap-and-cheerful Korean dinner. On Tuesday night, as a guest of the Fujian Association of Victoria, I was a party to a small airport dinner featuring local Australian fare, with directors of ministries and other officials from said provinces. The following day was a potluck mid-winter lunch at work, which almost marked the end of a very tricky project. I brought in a French duck cassoulet, but there were other dishes of a variety of cultural origins. Meanwhile, a cowardly anonymous leaflet has been circulated to "to keep 'curry' out of Kurri Kurri".

It makes one wonder what culinary delights the monoculturalists think that they're going to experience. Fish and chips, white bread, gammon, bully beef, and boiled cauliflower? Baked beans and eggs on toast? A two-jar spice rack that consists of salt and pepper? There is nothing wrong, of course, with British cuisine in moderation, but being a bit of a foodie, I rather like my culinary experiences to be enriched with diversity. Likewise, I experience the same with the people I meet; people of different geographies, different backgrounds, different languages, different religions - all have enriched my knowledge of the world and broadened my horizons of what can be experienced. Meanwhile, Pauline Hanson is uncomfortable even with political opposition and has threatened to "round them all up and give them an island". Well, we already have such an island, Ms Hanson. It's called Australia, and it's a multicultural, it's what we want to eat, and we're better for it.

For many months, Australia has witnessed the rise of the far-right One Nation party, led by their veteran Senator, Pauline Hanson, supported with populist politics, with some very wealthy backers. Most of their rise has been at the expense of the mainstream right-wing Liberal Party, making the entire experience not unlike what has happened to the US Republicans' transformation under Trump or the UK Conservatives' loss to Reform; so far, the German Christian Democrats have somewhat resisted the Alternative for Germany. However, recently their leader had to front the National Press Club and, having opened her mouth, there has been a sudden shift in public sentiment toward the party, with a succession of opinion polls (RedBridge, Newspoll, Morgan, Essential) showing a sudden decline for the party. Essential is particularly interesting as it showed some detail that even among supporters of One Nation, they don't necessarily agree with ON's policies, which implies support for the party is based on the desire for disruption, feeling neglected by the political system, and being part of a political tribe.

These are all characteristics which, I have mentioned previously and discussed at the Isocracy presentation, correlate with the "social pathologies" that were raised by Habermas when a political system, highly expert in the efficiency and effectiveness of governance, has lost popular and democratic input for the formation of normative directives from the cultural lifeworld. Reviving this sense of an integrated society is achieved not just through social welfare measures, but also through an active civil society and a public sphere, where people can associate with political and economic leaders as equals, and where all members of society are invited and able to participate according to their interests. Clubs, religious groups, and political groupings whose foundations rest on exclusivity rather than inclusiveness are signs of divisive populism in these circumstances.

As an example of an open, but special interest group, last weekend I was invited, in my role in Australia-China Friendship Society, to attend a dinner hosted by the Fujian Association of Victoria which had more than 200 people in attendance including a number of political and diplomatic figures who readily mixed with regular members; I was seated between former MP Hong Lim and the Mayor Dandenong, Sophie Tan and, unsurprisingly, I spent most of the evening in conversation with said people. Quite a few of the speakers spoke, indirectly, about Senator Hanson's suggestion that the country become a "monoculture", including my own (published in the ACFS Newsletter). It is rather poor form to condemn a people because of race, origin, religion etc, rather than the content of their character. It is damaging to our sense of community, damaging to international political and trade relations, and ultimately damaging to ourselves, as our inner nature will correlate with our outer nature.