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After I moved out of my house, a townhouse if I need to be more specific, I would think of it often. I would visualise the space in my mind, move through the rooms and try my hardest to not forget anything. I adored the murky green, wood grain linoleum. I think about this as I lay on my share house bed, staring at a scrap of paint hanging off the ceiling. People do not worry about things like this when the house is very old and has Art Deco features. I worry the scrap of paint will fall and lay on my bed until I find it. Through my window in this new room I can see my neighboursâ€™ balcony, so close I could shout and they would either shout back, or hurry inside their own house. At the least they would hear me. Last month, I drove past this old house (this townhouse), loved and adored, and folded up delicately in my mind, and felt nothing at all. I have found home pressed into books, in pant pockets (worn and unwashed) and here with you. I have stopped routine tours (in my mind) of my former residence and have taken up embroidery. It is a picture of my loungeroom. Ruth Thomas and Bryce Newton Pelican Editors 2017
Letter from the Editors
Creative writing residency Soap Hannah Cockroft
Day In Lilli Foskett
I know where you
9 Town Skye Newton 27 Typography Is an Art Form That Is Sufficiently Appreciated and Thatâ€™s Cool Tess Bury 40 Home Nathan Tang 46 Presidential Address Nevin Jayawardena
Harry Peter Sanderson
Column Talk IV Harry Peter Sanderson
22 Claudi Isabella Corbett
Pack Up the Moon: Scene V Sophie Minissale
Mai Barnes Speaks Music, Home and Vaccinations Tess Bury
Review: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: Murder of the Universe Review Eamonn Kelly
Corrective Retrospective: Ambera Wellman Lucy Rossen 16
Album Reviews Nick Morlet Matthew Maltman
Pelly Mix Tape
24 I Hate My Body but Thatâ€™s Okay, Right? Isabella Corbett 26 Face Paint: Lulu Brearley Lulu Brearley
36 Rich Complacency Will Cost the Poor: the emergence of the climate change refugee Maddi Howard Artwork by Danyon Burge
32 Cinema Re-view: Event Cinemas Innaloo Bryce Newton
38 The Low-Tech Aquarium John Yaxley
33 The Homeliest of Films Clinton Ducas, Cindy Shi, Jorge Luis Fonseca, Julian Coleman
39 Welcome to Science Friends Clare Moran
34 Discovering Whiteley with James Bogle Ryan Suckling
28 A Roundtable Discussion After Yassmin Abdel-Magiedâ€™s Talk on Unconscious Bias Pema Monaghan
42 Climate Change and the Risk to Security Hannah Smith
Hobbies, Reviewed Rainy Colbert
20 Unsupervised Homestyle Recipes from the Children of Pelican Eva Spiegel, Callista Goh, Laura Strobech, The Yiz, Jade Newton, Amber Fresh, Jack Wansbrough, Tugboat, Tim Gates, Ben Yaxley, Sean Standen, Isabella Corbett, Skye Newton, Nick Morlet, Amy PerejuanCapone, Pema Monaghan, Emma Stark
30 Share It House Jane Lochrie 31
Weâ€™re Reading Eamonn Kelly, Harry Peter Sanderson, Mara Papavassiliou, Pema Monaghan
44 Protecting the Home or Preventing Others from Having a Home? Olivia Roberts 45 Republic? Mike Anderson
Soap Hannah Cockroft When I shower I imagine that I am some kind of feral child that has lived in the woods and been raised by wild dogs. As I shave my armpits and wash my hair and scrub away my dead skin, I imagine myself being slowly transformed into something pristine, like every cell in my body is turning over and I am a whole new person. And when I walk out and look in the bathroom mirror, wiping away the condensation, I can see this transformation, this feral child looking like a functioning woman with dandruff free hair and rose scented skin. In actuality, it is not a very big transformation, because I did not look like a feral child before I entered the shower, I just had oily hair and my armpits smelt a bit like french onion soup. The rose scented shower gel smells a bit like the scented soap at my grandma’s house that she stole from a hotel, which is a small improvement. Soap makes my hands feel dry, like the skin is being pulled tighter and tighter until all the oil is squeezed out. My mum likes to buy that soap that turns into foam as it comes out of the dispenser. I don’t know why it’s meant to be better. When I was younger the cold weather would make my skin on my hands turn itchy and flake off. Hand dandruff. I would put lanolin on it. It left a sticky film over my hands that would leave a greasy mark anytime I went to pick up a glass. Sometimes when I look in the bathroom mirror I wonder what I would do if I ever saw someone behind me. I think I would just accept my fate. I like having baths from time to time. I feel like I can’t have them too often, because then they won’t be special anymore. Like how when I was younger I would only get McDonalds when Mum and Dad had somewhere to go at night and they didn’t have time to cook. And then once I got my license I would go and get McDonalds all the time. Then it stopped being fun and I started hating myself. This is a false equivalency: taking baths everyday is a very different matter to eating McDonalds everyday. The fact of the matter is that you can have too much of a good thing. This is common sense and there is really no point in explaining it in great detail, but I already have, so it is too late for us. When I have a bath I try to get all of the hair out first. My bath collects an obscene amount of hair, to the point where I wonder if I am far more stressed than I allow myself to believe I am, and perhaps will be bald before the decade is out. I hope not. I will usually rummage through my bathroom draws for an old bath bomb. Sometimes it will fizz and turn the bath water into an effervescent kaleidoscope, or it will decide not to cooperate and sink to the bottom like Virginia Woolf. I sit in the bath for 15 minutes or so, not quite sure what to do. There is not much you can do in a bath except to try and get as much of your body under the water as possible and hope that it dissolves whatever grime you have accumulated throughout the day. I think about what meal I would pick to be my last, if I were on death row. I think I would choose a big plate of apricot chicken and roast potatoes. Or maybe a really excellent cooked breakfast, with perfectly poached eggs and crispy hash browns, and perfectly toasted slices of bread that are still soft in the middle. When I get out of the bath the heat from the water leaves me sweaty and I consider taking a shower to rinse off.
I know where you Are Got that dress. It’s expensive Left your keys Were yesterday (so don’t try lying to me babe) Want to be Would rather be Said to meet, but I’m lost and don’t know where I am or how to find you Work Want to be in ten years, and I know I won’t be there Lost your glasses Stand, politically Hide your diary Tried to hide my keys Need to kick the washing machine to make it start (let me show you) Need to improve Hide alone in your car and hotbox Want to eat tonight Are sitting (I can see your head between the bookshelves) Went wrong Make eye contact with dogs Eat breakfast on Saturday Sample deli goods Microwave your lunch Loiter Pretend to smoke Want to build a house, I want to live there too Steal plant cuttings Buy milk Don’t like to be Were when you left me Leave your indoor plants on your front porch, after weeks of not being watered Left your card, you should really call the bank and cancel it Put your sadness (it’s between the couch cushions) Store old wrapping paper, sometimes I take it out and look at the creases it’s folds have left Cried when that Animal Crossing villager left unexpectedly Store bread (I don’t think it’s supposed to go in the fridge) First felt alone Wanted to be, and where you are Sit on campus (you look for places to be alone) You lost your earring (I should have told you by now) Left your lunch, it’s still on the kitchen counter Went hiking Stayed in Kyoto Send love letters, they are all for me (or someone who once lived at this address) Write bad food reviews, but it’s not Urbanspoon so I refuse to read them
and tsundoku. We want to hear what your favourite poem is, and why our favourite poem isn’t. We want to hear
literature and literature that doesn’t exist yet. We are a cocktail party of prismatics; lightening colours mixed into about long books and short books and small writers and big writers. We want to hear about spoken literature and written literature and literature that doesn’t exist yet. We are a cocktail party of prismatics; lightening colours mixed into
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Column Talk IV Harry Peter Sanderson I once met a girl at a party at my friend Francois’ apartment who said she had known Umberto Eco personally. The Republican primary had just been called, and the night had a wistful, end-ofthe-world feel to it. We got so drunk we could barely walk, and then we walked home. On the way, I fell over so much in the snow that my knees and hands were reduced to a bloodied mess. My palms were freezing and blue, with pools of red in their centre. I looked like a papermâché beggar, recently cut down from a crucifix. (The lesser columnist might here comment a crucifix is like a column, but it is not. The cross-bar is uncolumnic, breaking integral verticality. And besides, columns are supposed to elevate us, not punish). We took almost every wrong turn, and only found her house an hour later at the top of a tall hill. She explained to me that her house-lady was a well-meaning but severe Mrs. Hudson type who objected to her coming home in the early hours of the morning, and so we would have to enter through the balcony. This seemed reasonable to me, so I bent over and allowed her to stand on my back to hoist herself over the low balcony wall. Pulling myself up after her proved to be much more difficult. I had no subservient footstool to help me, and the only structural aids I could rely on were two large Corinthian columns made of stone. The thing about climbing up two Corinthian columns to get into someone’s house is that you can’t really do it. Grabbing them was impossible, and they were just so far apart that there was no wedging in between them. Also, they were covered in frost, and burned my hands. My companion tried lazily reaching down to me, but didn’t want to lean too far out of the window for fear of falling. She found an umbrella in her room and tried to extend it down, but when I grabbed it she couldn’t support me, and I fell down like a slow angel, hitting my head on the cold floor. I lay on my back shivering and making snow angels, but with sporadic, random movements that looked like a slow-motion seizure. I was the kind of merciless, incomprehensible drunk that you feel you might never escape from. My companion looked down on me with a mix of pity and fatigued disinterest. My body hurt on account of the fall, and I was tired and lonely. Looking up at the columns, I couldn’t help seeing them as colossal barriers to everything I wanted in the world. I began to weep. “Go home” she called out softly. But where was home? Somewhere else, and very far away. The columns were supposed to elevate us. But they had held things just out of reach.
Pack Up the Moon: Scene V Sophie Minnisale The setting is the same room following the events of Scene 4, however several hours have passed and the sun is starting to set. The lighting is dull, yet oppressive and shadowy on the faces of the actors. TOKUKO remains in the exact position she was left in on the floor. She has not moved and remains untouched by anyone, even MONTY LAWRENCE. MONTY LAWRENCE sits on edge of the bed, defeated and dishevelled, choosing to ignore the body on the ground. There is silence. Slowly and with the utmost control of her body, TOKUKO rises from her position to a stand. She faces the audience and continues to do so as she speaks. However, when she speaks, she makes no noise and instead a voice over by the actress playing DOROTHY WICKOMDEN plays, with TOKUKO mouthing in sync. The voice of DOROTHY WICKOMDEN is controlled and calm. There are no hints of anger or fury. Rather, she is disappointed. MONTY LAWRENCE remains at the edge of the bed, stoic, still and above all, silent. He continues to ignore TOKUKO. TOKUKO: Do you remember what you said to me the night before you left? If my memory serves me correctly, I believe you said, “I promise you everything.” (She pauses). What did you mean by that, Monty? Because back then I knew exactly what you meant. But now, I am not so sure. Were you making a promise to return to me safely? Without harm? With the same devotion and passion and love that you held in your soul when you left me? Was it, dear Monty? Or was it a promise for you to break my heart? To ruin me, to destroy every thread of faith I had sewn into you so dearly. You used to be so committed to your promises. And I used to care for you. I did, Monty. But now I have as much concern for you as a moth being attacked by a battleship. Despite that, part of me still loves you. I don’t know if that’s foolish or the product of almost ten years of our marriage and many, many more of my love. And now look what you’ve done. What happened to the man I once knew? Where is he? Rusted at the edges, devoid of anything resembling a man capable of loving someone. Loving someone properly, that is. You have well and truly defeated me. Part of me feels sorry for you. Sorry that you have this evil, sick longing inside of you. I pity you because you have had to fight this urge to betray me. To betray what we had. How long have you felt like this, Monty? Are you sorry for what you’ve done? Do I even want to hear the answer to that? You need to come home, Monty. There is a long and painful silence. The silence continues past the point of being comfortable. Monty continues to stare forward. There was something else you once said about promises, wasn’t there Monty? “Promises, much like marriage, are…” (she is cut off by Monty who finally breaks his silence. He still does not look at her when he speaks). MONTY: An unbreakable commitment. The body of Tokuko collapses to the floor and as soon as she hits the ground, the lighting snaps to blackout. (End Scene)
I’m unsure whether 33 thousand followers on Instagram can be considered ‘underrated’ but Ambera Wellmann’s art interrupts my scrolling often enough to warrant more of a rating in my eyes at least. Wellmann graduated with a BFA from the Nova Scotia College of Art. Today, her output is split between a website displaying a more ‘serious’ portfolio of gently painted ceramics, and an Instagram page of odd and slightly grotesque photographs. I am drawn to the latter platform, and see this as her most gripping material. Her photos challenge you to think twice about things you see and do every day, but never really examine. The strangeness of these things can be hard to communicate in words – a bend in an elbow, or the fibrous root of a capsicum – but her photos encapsulate them perfectly. They give a feeling similar to a (sort of) horror film which you can’t look away from. There’s something unique about the stilling shock of finger nails seemingly embedded in the wrong side of the hand, or the skin being shaven off a kiwi fruit. But the images also have a satisfying sense of finality and balance. An egg placed in the centre of a halved watermelon simply belongs. The balance of shapes just works so well. There is even a soft sexuality to some of her artworks resembling body parts. She finds objects that fit in unlikely places, often substituting parts of wholes, with unconventional textures that elicit a very physical response. But these photos are never as blatant, which makes a point in itself. Apart from the obvious value of Instagram posts that aren’t taken from a rooftop in Santorini, I think these absurd and indelicate images should be rated highly for their thoughtful composition and provocative nature. To view more of Ambera Wellmann’s work, visit her Instagram @ambera.wellmann
Corrective Retrospective: Ambera Wellmann Lucy Rossen
Where do you make your music?
play hockey for four months and was woke up every night by a deep, blinding pain.
Sometimes I make it in bed on my laptop (in Garageband), because it’s easy and it doesn’t require cables to be plugged into other things, which is daunting to me. But I normally get way too absorbed in what I’m doing and wake up with a fucked neck like 6 hours later, and realise I’ve been just sleeping in front of my computer.
I wrote a song about it, and by then end of the musical process I realised that the pain wasn’t the thing that got to me, it was the fact that someone (the nurse) had invaded my personal boundaries so easily – the thought that I had watched her do this thing to my body, while I entirely lacked control. It was the first time I realised how quickly our boundaries can be punctured in a way that leaves irreparable damage.
Sometimes I make music in the little adjoining room between my bedroom and the laundry, which is why in a lot of my demos there’s the sound of the washing machine, or a tap running. Once, I swear I caught my housemate pooping, but she doesn’t believe me.
Tell us about your record. The record is going to be called Spectator, and I came up with that years and years ago when I was at uni and I was reading Laura Mulvey – she writes about cinema in the male gaze. It made me think a lot about being a spectator and being a spectacle and feeling paradoxically both of those things. Because when you are a spectator you’re passive and lacking agency in a sense, and that was how I felt for a long time. From the weird vaccination gone wrong to a series of other events in my life, it was not having control and having my boundaries encroached upon and not having any power, and passively watching it happen. A lot of my music is about this idea.
You can’t make music in damp or cold spaces, you need to be comfortable and alone. What music symbolises home for you? On a nostalgic level, I always think about Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois, which I bought when I was 16 or 17. I used to listen to it in my bedroom when I lived in my parents’ house. That was the time when I used to feel most at home in that house; because when you live in a volatile space there’s small things you need, small familiar elements to make it bearable. That’s what that album was for me.
And it terms of being a spectacle: all the while, at the same time being taught by society to be desirable to men and aspire to an ideal of womanhood, and as a late teenager I was trying really, really hard to achieve.
But the embarrassing answer would be: now that I live in a house that I feel comfortable in, music that symbolises home for me is Donna Summer, The Supremes, Dianna Ross – things that are upbeat and bring a party vibe, and that is because the nature of my home has changed.
What’s your go-to record for comfort? Tender buttons by Broadcast.
Tell us about an experience that has helped you write music? Find Mai’s band, Telete, on Bandcamp, Spotify and Facebook. Once when I got the Gardasil vaccine, the nurse who did it injected the needle too deep into the muscle and it was the worst pain. I couldn’t
Mai Barnes Speaks Music, Home and Vaccinations. Pelican music editor Tess Bury caught up with local musician Mai Barnes to speak about her music, and what “home” means to her. 14
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Murder of the Universe Eamonn Kelly So, King Gizz seem pretty committed to releasing those five albums they promised in January, (I think at this pace a Christmas themed album might be a real possibility, imagine that for a moment, will you). Murder of the Universe [Heavenly Recordings] is divided up into three sections based on, quote: “three distinct, but interrelated stories,” technically making it a triple album. That said, the album is little over forty minutes long, so it is as much a triple album as War and Peace is a novella. In terms of conceptual cohesiveness, the album works in that it is heavily suite-based, driven by a steady motoric beat, blearing guitars and that squeal that Stu is so good at. However, the narratives, broken up by spoken word interludes, seem like afterthoughts instead of central ideas properly integrated into the album. The interludes very occasionally detract from the music, they’re intrusive and can act as distractions, which is never a good thing in a concept album. This could have been three extremely good EPs if the band took the time needed to forge a cohesive narrative within the music. Instead, it comes across as a teensy bit bloated. The narratives themselves are fine. The aesthetic is like B-movie sci-fi and horror from the 70’s and 80’s. The first section is about something called an “altered beast” (possibly a reference to the 1988 Genesis classic of the same name) chasing after somebody. This person then realises that they themselves want to become altered, and do so by merging with the beast and creating a new beast which is a synthesis of the two. Savvy. It starts off well but after about the eighth minute of hearing “altered beast” over and over it gets pretty old and stale. The second section is about this epic battle between “the Balrog” and “the Lord of Lightning” (but let’s be real, it’s Gandalf). It’s both the simplest concept and the best section of the album. The third section is about this cyborg dude who wants to die or something, who also wants to vomit. In this section, the spoken word narration is text-tospeak instead of a female voice, which makes it seem like a meme. It’s a weird situation at this point in the album, because it is unclear whether the point is the narrative or the music itself – the album seems a little confused in what it wants to give its attention to. Murder of the Universe also takes its fair share of cues from the band’s 2016 album Nonagon Infinity, quoting riffs including ‘Gamma Knife’ and ‘People Vultures’ throughout its span. At times, Murder of the Universe seems like it could be a compilation of B-sides rustled-up from Nonagon Infinity. This comparison comes from the fact that they are using the same scales that were used on Nonagon Infinity, and that they are playing suite-based music with the same frantic energy. I saw King Gizz live both times they came to Perth last year. They played Nonagon Infinity as it appears on the album, mixed with hits off In Your Mind-Fuzz and ‘The River’ from Quarters. It makes sense for the band to have written songs that they could swap in and out of that repertoire. Yet, I still get the feeling that the band have slacked a little between this album and Flying Microtonal Banana. Murder of the Universe just isn’t as inventive or fresh as the previous three full lengths they’ve done. A clear formula has become apparent and now it is starting to wear thin on me. It occurs to me that I’ve been very critical of this album so far. To be fair, I don’t dislike it, but it could have been way better if they did almost everything different.
Alex G (Sandy) Rocket Review by Nick Morlet
Alex G is keeping the indie rock dream alive, and I don’t even mean that facetiously. Coming straight out of his Philadelphian bedroom, Alex G’s latest album Rocket takes its pick of influences from ambient noise rock to pastoral emo while remaining cohesive, held together by solid guitarbased compositions and a very earnest voice – “a brother is a brother and that is that!” Miraculously, the eclecticism on show here serves to reward repeated dipping into, and does not dare to distance potential listeners. This, however, makes the album quite hard to review; there’s something here for everyone and a sizable amount will be into the whole, though the lack of cohesion brings it short of a classic. If you like it, you’ll love it, and your mates will love it too, and you’ll feel real cool for having shown them: this album is good for you.
The follow-up to 2013’s Embracism, Bravado is the sophomore album from Sydney based oddity Kirin J. Callinan, cementing his place as one of the strangest, but most exciting, upcoming Australian artists. One of Callinan’s great attributes is that he doesn’t waste your time; the fortyminute track list here is packed with features, genre-bending tracks and Callinan’s ‘I’ll do whatever the damn hell I please’ eccentric attitude.
Kirin J. Callinan Bravado Review by Matthew Maltman
Callinan’s vocal performance, lyrics and instrumentals are all coloured by this eccentricity; it’s often difficult to work out whether he’s being ironic, trying to make a statement, or just being downright weird for the sake of it. Regardless, it’s clear he has the aim to pull the piss out of anything and everything. His hooks are often ironic, and poke fun at themes in mainstream pop, like on ‘Living Each Day’ where he mocks hedonistic pop bangers, inviting the listener to “Live each day like it’s your last/ Shrug off the urge to systematically kill” or on ‘S.A.D’ where he mocks a ‘yeah the boys’ attitude, declaring “[This is] Just another song about drugs.” Perhaps the most hilarious moment on the album comes on ‘Big Enough’ where Callinan ends the song by literally listing off dozens of countries as an act of ‘unity’ before deciding to end the song by uniting three large world religions in a tone much as an announcer would declare the heavyweight champion of world: “Christianity! Islam! Judaism!” One can’t help but think this is a parody of mainstream pop artists making big (but ultimately hollow) statements like The Black-Eyed Peas on ‘Where is the Love?’ or every disaster relief song Bono has appeared on. Callinan’s lyrical aesthetics are not for everyone, but for those who enjoy irony and surrealist imagery there is plenty to sink your teeth into here. Don’t write this album off as just a vehicle to tell a few lyrical jokes though, the instrumentals here are great with some great soundscapes, beats and guitar lines. Much as his lyrics are unpredictable and challenging, the instrumentals too vary greatly from track to track, from club bangers to piano ballads. The diverse sounds on the album leads to the listener never being able to settle, which is a large part of Callinan’s aesthetic, but it may be a turnoff to some as it gives the album a bit of a disjointed feel. Overall, the colour and energy that Callinan’s eccentric personality brings to Bravado make it one of the more interesting and exciting Australian pop releases in the past few years.
Hobbies Reviewed Rainy Colbert #11 – Yowie Hunting Australian folklore defines the Yowie as an elusive, hairy, sasquatch-like creature, said to move like a crab and occasionally slaughter farm-dogs and livestock. In the late 90s and early 2000s Yowies were better known as the anthropomorphic chocoeggs, who, when splayed open, contained the parts to various plastic animals. Small and fiddly, construction often required the assistance of a dexterous adult, not to mention their watchful eye in case one didn’t heed the choking warnings. When public interest died down in 2005, the Yowie went extinct from Australian shelves, soon reincarnated again overseas. Adapting for the U.S. audience, the Yowie replaced its Australian fauna with groundhogs and bald eagles; parts larger and trickier to fit into the wider diameter of the average American windpipe. Now in 2017, Yowies have apparently returned to our shelves – but what shelves? I’ve hardly been able to find them. Only about 3% of the stores I’ve visited in the last few months have actually stocked Yowies, making their vamped-up return something of an anticlimax. However, during this time I’ve noticed that the Kinder Surprise, Yowie’s oldest competitor, is becoming an increasingly larger and more extravagant presence in confectionary aisles. After having the reign on the choco-egg market for the last 10 years, Kinder must surely feel the threat of losing their kingpin status to Yowie again. In true Murdoch fashion, the Swedish Baby Boomers are doing everything they can to hold on to their crumbling egg-pire. I’m not sure how high I should hold the cut-throat world of marketing, but to me, Kinder’s tricks have gone far beyond the rules of friendly competition. All I see is foul play, and I hope that when you read my notes below, the Kinder egg’s fall from grace will become immediately obvious: • Kinder’s packaging and displays have been significantly enlarged, taking up more shelf room and literally pushing other products from the same aisle. If the Mint Patties and Curly Wurlies can only barely fit in there, how the hell is a box of Yowies going to make the shelf? • Taking a page from the Yowie books, Kinder recently introduced three different variants of their products – boy egg (blue tint), girl egg (pink tint), and minion egg (yellow tint and a picture of minion). The illusion of choice is there I guess, but the execution is completely morally and socially backwards. Didn’t Kinder hear that gender is a construct? How come I have to choose between girl, boy, or Minion? Yowie’s several colours at least represented the diverse ecological biomes of Australia; each colour a distinctive character and personality, guardians of their respective deserts or swamps or whatever. The Yowie colour purchased by the consumer was said to show a deep reflection of the individual’s true Self. Like reading a horoscope or taking the Myers Briggs Test, the act of choosing one’s Guardian was very spiritual, nothing like the capitalist gender-normativity of the godless Kinder egg. • In 2013, Jesse and I had a comic called The Democratic People’s Republic of Yowie, but after receiving a concerning letter addressed from “Yowie Group LTD.” we were forced to add an extra E to the end. I doubt Yowie Corp would have ever taken legal action against us, because that seems to contradict everything that the Yowies were said to stand for: freedom, mateship, a fair go, love. I can guess with certainty that it was in fact Kinder who sent us the letter, wolves dressed like sheep, trying to stifle any public brand-awareness for their competitor’s product. A teen once told me how he shoplifted a Kinder Surprise from Midland Centrepoint. Curious, I asked him what toy he got. “Didn’t look,” he said. “Just walked out, and then I crushed it in my hand.” Hearing that story expanded my borders of reality. Never before had I ever even considered the possibility of anyone doing anything like that – but the next day there I was, standing in the Mundaring Coles beside a freshly crushed egg. I never did this again, nor do I encourage it, but from looking at the evidence above, I do indeed believe that taking from Kinder makes you something of a Robin Hood. Only a short trip from my house stands the Yowie Corp headquarters, an inconspicuous skyscraper on St. Georges Terrace. A true sneakerhead in my Air Jordans, I sprinted through the city, resume flapping in my arms as I weaved between business men and construction equipment. I was looking for jobs that day, and thought that I might as well inquire about employment from the CEO after I’d shared with them my intel on Kinder. But when I opened Yowie’s office doors, I was not prepared for the mess inside. In the middle of the room lay the CEO Alex Howard, bloated, on his back and unconscious. Surrounding him stood a vast landscape of torn-up egg foil and broken capsules, instances of plastic wildlife amidst it. Stepping over bandicoots and sea cucumbers I went to check if the man was still breathing. He was, but barely; dried chocolate had smudged up his airways and even when I cleared them he didn’t arise. Soon enough the ambulance came and there I was, alone in Yowie headquarters. Although I had saved his life (which you’d think was already a pretty good reason to employ someone), I thought I would further demonstrate my initiative by tidying the office before he got back. As I began to sweep up the desecrated Yowie eggs, I noticed
how the foil made the room glitter and sparkle, as if you had just walked in to a cartoon treasure cave. It gave me an idea. Here was a chance to really go above and beyond in impressing the boss: not only would he be coming back to a sparklingly clean office – he’d be coming back to a sparklingly beautiful Great Work of Art. Within three hours the room was clear of foil and figurines, rearranged on the carpet to spell “HELLO HANDSOME” in big, bright, spectacular letters. I had read in a book how employers love to be flattered and bombarded with unconditional love even before you’ve landed a job, because employment is scarce and you have to play the game to win. As I was admiring my calligraphy, the office door whooshed open and the majority of my work was again scattered in the gust. A tanned woman in a pantsuit entered the room, more trashed than before with only the first four letters remaining legible. She gasped “What in the... “Hell?” What is –” “Uh sorry madam,” I cut her off. “The boss isn’t here at the moment and I can’t, uh, there was an accident and like ah, I don’t think I can have anyone in here without like an appointment. But I can give you Mr. Howard’s phone number if you want?” She looked at me, very mad. “Firstly, this is my office, and I demand to know who you are, and what you are doing here, and what our stock is doing obliterated over the room.” “Oh wait, so you’re Alex Howard. Right, cool, sorry, yeah I was hoping to speak with you because I was wondering if I could –” “Wondering if you could what? Write an offensive word on our carpet? What’s next? Pornography? Yowie... Rule 34?” “No, no, uhh I came in and there was a guy, the CEO and –” “We have no CEO here, so that’s not – wait you say there was someone here?” “Yeah, a guy passed out on the floor. He’d eaten too much I think. I had to call an ambulance and then he was gone.” The woman (Ms Howard I supposed) stormed past me to the back wall where there hung a large portrait of Whitegum Wisebeard, fictional grandfather of the Yowies. She dislodged the painting and hidden behind was the unlocked door of an empty safe, contents consumed and torn up on the floor. “Bastards. They’ve taken everything. Our entire first series – gone.” “I reckon the guy ate them. Probably worked for Kinder.” “Shit, that was the last of them too. Several hundred grands worth. Do you know who he was?” “Well I thought he was CEO, but he probably works for Kinder.” “No, we own Kinder. Maybe if we call forensics they could trace him if there’s evidence left.” “I don’t think there will be. Like I polished and cleaned up pretty much everything.” “You did?” “Yeah, I thought... you might’ve liked to return to a clean office.” “With the word Hell?” “It was supposed to say Hello Handsome.” She did not reply. “I thought Alex was a man’s name.” I added, but still she said nothing. “Also, while I’m still here, I was wondering if I could leave you my resume?” I held it out and she took it with limp hands to stare at it blankly. “We’ll get back to you” she said in a faint mumble, nodding in confusion. Exiting the building I saw the reflection of Ms Howard, surrounded in the gleaming litter, elbows shaking.
Unsupervised Homestyle Recipes from The Children of Pelican Before your tastebuds became refined and you learned to eat in a socially acceptable way, what were the go-to meals you’d make after school? I asked a variation of this question to the masses, and returned home with a nice range of new, simple and exciting culinary ideas. Feel free to try these at home. Dirt Dizert I used to mix a horrendous amount of Milo (probably almost a cup) with a tiny amount of milk to create a super thick, grainy mud texture. Then I’d microwave for a minute, stopping it frequently to stir so it didn’t burn. If all that Milo wasn’t enough, sometimes I’d add honey to the sludgy molten sugar packed monstrosity. Sometimes just a can of 4 bean mix with a spoon, not drained. Eva Spiegel Fake Sizzler Toast Spread butter on toast and coat heavily with parmesan. Either fry (butter and cheese on both sides) or bake ( just one side). Callista Goh Four Recipes - tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce - tomato sauce on rice - tomato sauce on popcorn - tomato sauce on white bread Laura Strobech Ursatz Donut Layer a slice of cold brown bread with raspberry jam and whipped cream from a can. Then sprinkle with raw sugar. This recipe was invented by my grandma to teach my brother and I a new word. From then on it became an afterschool staple, and my grandfather seeing us eat would always grumble “this was supposed to be an exercise in linguistics, not an exercise in gluttony.” The Yiz The Graceless and Un-Pocketed Pizza Pocket A piece of bread with ketchup and cheese put in the microwave for 30 seconds. Voila. Jade Newton Pre-adventure Telly Bowl I used to mix up a bowl of icing (as in butter, icing sugar and cocoa) to eat while watching telly, before going to the ocean/bush. Amber Fresh Carrot Hollow out a carrot, mix all the carrot shavings with salad dressing, shove them back in the carrot, carve plugs for each end out of carrot. Jack Wansbrough Dry Mouth Dandies It’s a Weet-Bix wheat brick, with Vegemite and butter on top. A top notch dry treat for all the kiddies. Tugboat
Pizza Balls Place dollop of Vegemite on middle of bread slice. Cut off crusts and roll into a compact, grease-stained ball. Keep repeating until the entire loaf has been turned to Pizza Balls. Tim Gates Fairy Cakes When I first was allowed to be home alone, I’d take a dry Weet-Bix and spread it with margarine and then sprinkle it with 100s and 1000s, which created the worst texture imaginable, but for some reason excited me. Ben Yaxley Mex Goreng Mi Goreng rolled up in a tortilla. Never thought to name it at the time but Mex Goreng would have been the anatomically correct name. Sean Standen Deconstructed Tina Wafer I would take these and slowly peel apart each layer of wafer, lick the cream off, and then dissolve the discarded wafer in my cup of tea ... I don’t know why I did this when it just created a gross sludgy mess, but I enjoyed the different textures at the time. Also, I would have Greek yoghurt with a dash of vanilla extract and those silver cachous that you decorate cupcakes with for a big serving of Cronch. Isabella Corbett Half and half ratio of milk and choc ripple biscuits in a cup My whole family hates me for this. Skye Newton Tuna mayo Ingredients: tinned tuna in olive oil, mayonnaise, bunch of salt & pepper. I learnt to make this much too young, and it still reminds me of being ten years old. You want to tip out most of the oil before mixing in the mayo, unless you’re a particularly oily friend. Nick Morlet Tastebud CLR Slice open a spring onion and spread the inside with wasabi, vegemite, tahini and chilli sauce. Then wrap it around a slice of cheese. I also once knew a dude who put so much vegemite on his toast that he had to eat it upside down or folded, otherwise it burnt the roof of his mouth. Amy Perejuan-Capone Pema’s Choice Take cheddar block out of fridge. Chop 1cm width piece off. Microwave for a minute. Eat cheddar. Lick cheese oil off plate. Repeat. Pema Monaghan Health Tonic Rice, broccoli (chopped finely), balsamic vinegar, basil. Don’t ask me why, I just used to make this. It tasted foul but I was adamant that I had to eat it. Emma Stark
Claudi In a world where fashion is getting faster, Claudi JVR is taking it slow. Exclusively using recycled textiles, sustainability engenders the emerging designer’s work. Isabella Corbett speaks with her about her practise, and keeping fashion cool, and eco-friendly at the same time. Have you always been interested in fashion design? I’ve always been a creative person; the thought of doing anything else never even crossed my mind. I’m a total nerd when it comes to clothing and fashion. What inspires you? My mind moves 1,000 kilometres an hour, so inspiration comes from anywhere and everywhere. Once I saw a lady walking her dog wearing two bum bags, which then led to a series of detachable pockets! Your work revolves around sustainability. What was the catalyst for pursuing this notion? It started when I was a uni student living out of home; I couldn’t afford $12 packets of dye, or silks that cost $80 a metre. I looked for alternative ways, using eco dye techniques, recycling, and up-cycling what we already have around us. I also have a pretty close relationship with the environment around me, so the urgency to protect it has always been part of my lifestyle. Marrying two passions together, fashion and conservation, has always been my vision. I love that your pieces are crafted using recycled materials. How do you source them? Everything I make comes from deconstructed jeans or up-cycled bedding, which I source from second-hand stores. I work with the idea of taking something old or broken and creating something new. There are a lot of references in my work to traditional techniques used around the world; Japanese BORO has always been a huge influence! Does your creative process change with each collection? Depending on what I am working on it may vary, but the stages are always relatively consistent. Your creative process is like a recipe: I always work best when I am scribbling down notes, ripping up paper, or doing anything hands on. What are your thoughts on the advent of fast fashion? Fast fashion sucks. The industry is HUGE and has been around for a long time, but consumers are just waking up to it now. Most people don’t even know what sustainable fashion is. It’s all about planting the seed. To slow it down we need to open a discussion about the negative impacts of fast fashion and encourage more sustainable choices amongst consumers and young designers What do you aim to achieve through your work? I try to make my garments attractive enough to encourage consumers to be like, ‘Hey, that coat is sick AND it’s made from recycled materials.’ I challenge myself to create pieces that are on trend but also made from sustainable practices. Sustainable fashion can be fun and look cool; this has always been my aim as a young designer, because it is still such a young movement. What is next on the horizon? There is no step-by-step guide on how to build a successful career in the fashion industry. At the moment, I am working alone from a studio at home. It’s hard to say, I am working my ass off trying to build something from this, so I’ll keep doing it and see what happens! Finish this sentence: “I hope the future of fashion is...” SUSTAINABLE! I have always said the future of the fashion industry lies in our ability to embrace sustainable design. Without it there simply is no future for fashion; we cannot keep ignoring the negative impacts. It is so important for young designers to open their eyes and start making some positive changes. It really isn’t very hard to cut down on waste or make more ethical decisions! Keep up to date with Claudi’s work @sexy_vegetables, or etsy.com/au/shop/byClaudi Model: Samuel Lebib Photographer: Jeremy Phillips at River Road Studios
I Hate My Body but That’s Okay, Right? Isabella Corbett I don’t like my body. I never have. At least when I was a child my small and wiry clothes hanger-like frame adequately clothed my timid and anxious personality. Things changed in year five, though; seemingly overnight I developed rounded breasts, meaty thighs, and a greasy mop of hair. I felt like the human equivalent of some sort of boxed meal at KFC. When my body began to bleed once a month, it repulsed me. When my body sprouted bristly pubic hair, it confused me. When my body produced a stench so strong that, one day, a classmate unashamedly muttered to my face, “You smell,” it embarrassed me. Above all, my body terrified me. I was petrified because I was trapped in a fatty and bloodied lump of flesh, with hormones and cells that were transmogrifying beyond my control. They were going to keep going until they had matured into their final form: Adulthood. The thing is, I was ten. I wasn’t ready to be an adult. I played The Sims 2 after school and wrote quirky short stories about my cats. My body was developing at a rate faster than my mind, a fact that relatives reinforced by telling me that I was “Turning into a real woman!” and that I had “Grown so much!” They meant no harm and I knew that their words were steeped only in encouragement, but these affirmations still filled me with dread. My curvaceous form meant that strangers showed me attention, too; men catcalled me on the street, barking at my “sexy legs” or “good tits.” I remember walking with my family through Perth CBD one weekend when an old man approached me and simply croaked: “You’re gorgeous, girl.” I was twelve. These behaviours are deplorable in any circumstance, but being sexualized at such a young age sickened me. Health class never taught me how to remedy the thoughts of embarrassment, confusion, and shame that plagued me. Sure, I could insert a tampon and learnt the difference between the labia minora and the labia majora, but my mental health was suffering. My mind was a toxic cesspool, telling me that I was uglier (big nose!), fatter (huge stomach!), and denser (shit at mathematics!) than my classmates. I persuaded myself that this, surely, made me a worthless person; no amount of compassion or kindness could convince me otherwise. I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa at thirteen. The hospital became my home. For days at a time I was confined to bed rest; my body was too weak to move, and any physical exertion risked further weight loss. I sat in bed watching Nickelodeon with a nasogastric tube threaded through my nose that travelled down my throat and into my stomach, which secreted a high-calorie formula. It made me vomit violently. I either showered in a wheelchair, or with my mother by my side to ensure I didn’t fall because my blood pressure was so low. My hair fell out, I stopped menstruating, and my gums bled. I swallowed tiny pills to alleviate my intense melancholy. My eating disorder only exacerbated my pernicious self-worth. My rotten psyche led me to believe that I was still ugly (deathlike pallor!), fat (two saggy teats!), and dense (failing school!). The difference this time, though,
was that with a lot of love and patience, my condition gradually began to improve. This came from therapists, doctors, friends, and in particular, my family. They nurtured and supported me when I could not, and did not want to care for myself. My family, ultimately, fuelled my recovery. They made me realize the magnitude of my actions. Anorexia made me selfish, bitter, and mean; I took virtue in hurting people because I wanted them to understand the pain I was going through. The severe depression and anxiety that accompanied it rendered me emotionally numb to these actions, as well any corporeal changes. I didn’t care that I was killing myself, and bringing those around me down, as well. It was a culmination of several moments where I truly realized that my agony was manifesting within them. I overheard my mother weeping to my father about the persistent black cloud that loomed over her head. My sister broke down in tears when my parents told her that I had to reside in hospital indefinitely for suicidal thoughts. I saw my father cry for the first time ever in family therapy. I have never suffered such immeasurable remorse and dejection as I did during this time. I still carry this guilt and sorrow deep in the pit of my stomach, with constant nausea a physical reminder of my past experiences. I have tortured, starved, and harmed my body to – in some cases – irreparable extents. I have been told that my nausea will probably never go away, and I will need to be medicated for the rest of my life. I nearly broke the people I love more than anything else in this world. I have been in therapy for nearly 8 years. And you know what? I still don’t like my body. I go through prolonged periods where I house a lot of self-hatred that morphs into a punishing internal monologue. Sometimes I force myself to skip meals. On occasion, I have “forgotten” to bring a coat in freezing conditions because I know that my body will burn calories trying to warm itself up. I suck my stomach in every single time I have sex so I appear thinner. I wish I did none of this. It saddens me that I still allow thoughts of self-doubt to overshadow rationality. I know that what I do is unhealthy. Now, though, I have the tenacity to let my grievances only wound, rather than maim me. When a boy asked me for nudes and I declined his offer, he defiantly said: “You probably have pendulous, aubergine shaped breasts with areolae the size of saucers, anyway.” I cried for a bit. And then I laughed. I am not here to give self-love advice akin to that in the Girlfriend Magazine sealed section. My experiences are wholly my own: If there is one thing I have learnt, though, it is to accept that even though I have a mental illness, my mental illness does not have me. My mental illness riddles me with guilt, but there is nothing shameful in having a mental illness. My mental illness can control my actions, but, ultimately, I control my mental illness.
Face Paint: Lulu Brearley I love to experiment with anything that will create a visually pleasing and texturally unique look. Gloss, highlights, petals, colour, water, words, and tears form the foundation of my work. I love anything thatâ€™s slightly imperfect or not quite right. See more of Luluâ€™s work on her Instagram @absolutelynotttt
Typography Is an Art Form That Is Sufficiently Appreciated and That’s Cool Tess “I <3 Comic Sans” Bury I was a keen graphic design student. I’d come into class, headphones in, head down, and sit right up the back in the corner near all the spiders. I wouldn’t talk to anyone, instead hastily open Adobe Photoshop and froth over updated fonts. I loved graphic design, and I still do. I once did a whole project on typography, where I found that it has roots way back before Microsoft Word (shout out to Comic Sans, The Realest Typeface, closely followed by Papyrus). I realised fonts were much more what we know them to be today – people have been working on typefaces since the 1500’s. I think typography is a well-appreciated art form today – people can understand the difference between a tasty Century Gothic and a badly used Bauhaus 93. But for now, I’d like for us to delve a little deeper and look a little further into the typefaces we know and love. Garamond Garamond was created by Claude Garamond (1510 - 1561). This guy was one of the first independent punch-cutters, offering a service for people to come get their stuff printed without having to go through a print company. He is hailed as one of the “Old Boys” in the typeface game. The typefaces he offered to print in were known for their elegance, resembling handwriting more than any other standard print style. We have him to thank for this classy typeface that you can use for when you want to say things like: “Honey, where is the marmalade? I need to feed it to Rover.” Comic Sans – The Joker I’m not joking when I say this is The Realest Font. I can’t read it without a Goofy voice in my head. Comic Sans was originally created for the operating system “Microsoft Bob” — where it sounds like it was right at home. It was offered as an alternative to the more generic fonts like Times New Roman. Times New Roman – The One We All Had to Use in Primary School Times New Roman was initially invented for the Times of London, dear. It is the Woolworth’s Home Brand version of the font family, being quite cheap and readily available, it manages to just do its job. Apparently, it’s not very legible, but you can be the judge of that. Papyrus - The Feminine Touch Papyrus was created over the course of six months – attesting to the fact that good things really do take time (shout outs to Garamond). When you read it, a breathy woman’s voice takes over your head. According to Wikipedia, this font is most recognisable from James’ Cameron’s Avatar, the logo for metal band Lamb of God, and several of Viper’s album covers (the most prolific rapper known to man). (A.K.A. Windings) Windings is for when you want people to know you’re an anarchist, you don’t play by the rules. Windings was originally a Dingbat font, which means it is for purely decorative purposes and was never intended to be typed for any secret code. Its purpose is so people can send message quickly using pictures – sort of like emojis before emojis. Whatever font you choose, just make sure you appreciate its rich heritage before you whack it onto your next assignment (Times New Roman is dearly loved by UWA tutors, evidently).
A Roundtable Discussion After Yassmin Abdel-Magied’s Talk on Unconscious Bias Pema Monaghan On the 4th of July, PEMA, CLAIRE, and JULES, attended a talk given by Yassmin Abdel-Magied, the engineer, writer, public speaker, and 2015 Queensland Young Australian of the Year, presented by the UWA Institute of Advanced Studies. At the end of her talk, Yassmin suggested that the way forward for empathy was conversation. In the spirit of that, the three decided to record their discussion about the ideas presented in the talk. The talk was called ‘Unconscious Bias: What is it and how can we deal with it?’ PEMA: Jules, you said earlier that you were worried Yassmin Abdel-Magied isn’t qualified to talk about the things she talks about. Do you still think that? CLAIRE: Do you think that might be an unconscious bias? JULES: I still think that… don’t get me wrong, I think unconscious bias is completely valid and a lot of the things she said were spot on. The social scientist at the end, as she mentioned, it’s not a new concept. [Editor’s note: the scientist was the chair for the talk, and she commended Yassmin’s depictions and definitions of those terms.] Is she qualified to talk about it? Then again, she didn’t purport to be an expert. I wonder if someone who did actually study it could give a more authoritative description. PEMA: I see your point, but I think what she is doing, is that she knows that these aren’t new ideas exactly, but that they are quite new to the general public. Just because ‘the academy’ has been talking about an idea for twenty years doesn’t mean the public has an awareness of it. And what she’s doing is showing how those ideas relate to everyday experience. I was listening to a podcast, it was an episode of Invisibilia called ‘True You,’ and they had an American cop on the show, and he was talking about how he was required to go to a workshop on unconscious bias for his job, and he was really resistant, because he felt that, as he was black himself, he didn’t have that issue. But he found that he had been having those snap impressions without realising it just like the white police people. And he realised that he could teach those concepts well, because he could normalise the experience, because it is something that we all do in many situations for survival reasons, which is what Yassmin was saying, she was applying those concepts to her own life to make them more easily understandable. JULES: I enjoyed it; I thought it was very good. Most of my issues with her are about things outside this talk, although, you know, I don’t think that she’s an expert in it. CLAIRE: I’ve been thinking about this for a little while, the concept of privilege, and why people have such a problem with it. She was saying that people don’t like to hear that they have any unconscious bias, they say they don’t see colour or race, and how you don’t want to normalise racism, but it’s undeniable that society has influenced you in a certain way, that you’ve been moulded. You are going to do these things, and it’s not your fault to a certain extent. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t apologise for them, or try to correct your behaviour, but it does mean that if you’re more aware of these things that you’re more likely to do something about it. People are so afraid of it. PEMA: They’re afraid to be called out. I feel like it’s easy, when you’re in the position of having to explain yourself, as she described and as certain people sitting at this table might have experienced, that it’s easy to get lazy about how you feel other people perceive you, because you’ve been trained to believe that people assume certain things about you because of how you look. And that’s a sort of bias; although it isn’t one that is harmful to that other person in the way that racial or gendered stereotyping is, though on a personal level it’s harmful for both parties. CLAIRE: Something I find interesting, is that there is an unconscious bias when you look at her that I think that is going to be quite radical, socially and politically. JULES: I would say that she is quite radical. CLAIRE: But is she, though? She’s an engineer, who likes to drive race cars. PEMA: Can you clarify what you mean by radical? CLAIRE: I mean someone who is really on the fringes of their ideas. I’m thinking of feminism and politics. JULES: I think people see her as similar to Milo Yiannopoulos, on the other end of politics. When in fact she isn’t that far on the left, really. CLAIRE: I think that’s an unconscious bias, because people would look at her and be like oh wow, she’s a loud, brown woman who wears a headscarf and see that as radical already. JULES: I thought when she said she was the first young Muslim woman to face criticism, that that is patently false and pretty offensive.
PEMA: What I understood her to be saying is that in Australia she is the first Muslim woman to come up publicly in our digital age, of our age group, living our lives online. She is receiving a specific type of vitriol because of that. She may not have articulated that well, but I think she’s right. JULES: Didn’t you pick up a hint of self-heroism? PEMA: I know what you mean, and I do think she was quite cocky. But I don’t think that’s a crime, and you have to have confidence to deal with the shit she deals with. JULES: I am not saying she was arrogant, and anyway, she can be, she’s ridiculously well-spoken and she’s done a lot for a twenty-six year old. She doesn’t address class at all. She went to a private high school. She discusses all these race and gender issues but she doesn’t seem to discuss the fact that she’s from an affluent background, which to me is the baseline for every other issue. When she said that Indigenous people can’t speak for themselves… PEMA: She didn’t say that they can’t speak for themselves; she said that they shouldn’t have to speak alone. Which I agree with. CLAIRE: It sounds a little nit-picky to me. It sounds a little like you’re splitting hairs, trying to bring her down a peg. JULES: That’s fair. I just am not sure I trust young people talking about subjects that require a lot of expertise. PEMA: I don’t agree with that. Young people may not have the same experience in the industry or in the field, but they do have the benefit of growing up necessarily more progressive than the generation above. I think that young people have broader concepts. CLAIRE: She’s talking about her lived experience. JULES: No, I think she’s talking about broad concepts. PEMA: No, she’s applying broad concepts to her specific experience, which is a classic way to do both identity politics and the essay form, actually. To start with a macro view, zoom in, and then zoom out again. I think that people often don’t want to hear from young people, and I think that you are an age traitor. JULES: Maybe I am biased against myself, because I am an idiot, and she’s obviously incredibly intelligent. I just want footnotes on these ideas. PEMA: But she’s right when she says that she is a pioneering person in the field. Here in Australia, she is a pioneer in engineering because she is a brown-skinned Muslim woman. And that gives her, I think, the right to talk about concepts that affect her in that space. I liked that she talked about why as an engineer specifically she finds these social concepts interesting. She lectures at schools often, and when you’re talking to people who don’t have a background on the topic, you can’t stand on a podium and talk in a lexicon that they don’t have. How do you bring concepts to the public? Well, you bring them by talking in a language that everyone understands. JULES: But you also have to have a deeper understanding of those concepts yourself. PEMA: But you don’t know what she reads. And anyway, those aren’t settled concepts. Unconscious bias is not something that has been finished and thrown on the table like, okay, we’re done with that. I think that the way that she spoke reflected that. JULES: But I am just concerned that her ideas don’t come from much, they are just epithets. PEMA: But they do come from much, they come from her life. I know that you think that money and class are at the root of privilege issues. I don’t agree with you. But neither of us can dismiss the other’s opinion, because neither of us is right about this, because it’s complicated. The answer is in the conversation. [The three talked for twenty-five minutes more, mostly reiterating the same points over and over. CLAIRE left with her boyfriend at that point, because he had arrived to drive her home. JULES gave PEMA a lift back to her house, and they argued for almost the entire drive to Fremantle, before sliding into silence, and then gradually picking up a previous conversation about velvet dress slippers.] Yassmin’s Abdel Magied’s 2015 biography Yassmin’s Story is available in bookstores.
Share It House My History tutor told me you don’t get high distinctions in History My English tutor told me that it is hard to define Modernism I know a lot about the influence of the Franco Regime on Catholicism in Catalonia. My housemates do very well at University. Sometimes I have a feeling that a fig will fall on my head New Fortune Theatre is really fucking nice to look at I think I can make it to my 11.00 class if I leave at 10.45. Drivers in Australia don’t seem to believe in pedestrian crossings. The ‘Leased’ sign went up on the house across the road three weeks ago They haven’t moved in yet and I am curious to know if they are students The rest of our neighbours are families with young children. I hate the sound of recorders The curtains are placed too high so that they float just above the floor But someone put them up for me so I can’t very well say that I don’t enjoy like them Also, they are black. I can’t figure out what time of day it is. Our drains are often blocked The bathroom has flooded twice this week I’ve told the real estate agent that when we shower the water in the bath comes up to mid-calf level. Their response: ‘mature tree roots.’ The lemons on the tree are ripe finally They hang above the shed and sometimes they fall onto the roof of the shed I can’t reach them unless I strike them with an outdoor broom. I suspect they will begin to rot soon. I cut my fringe and toned my hair The front got shorter and all of it greener Apparently, tomato sauce can remedy this. I haven’t eaten tomato sauce for the last fifteen years. We invited friends to our very first house warming I asked them not to put the clove of garlic in the freezer It’s been there for three months now. We are not very good at recycling. I enjoy a vodka lime and soda (real lime not lime cordial, if you’ve got it) One-night-stand culture is really something My housemate says these are our formative years. I hope she is wrong. Jane Lochrie
We’re Reading The Gulag Archipelago 1918 - 1956 – Alexander Solzhenitsyn Where is one to start with such a work? This is a book about a fundamental misuse of power. It depicts the deportation, confinement in forced labour camps, and abuse, of an astounding number of people between the years 1918 and 1956 at the hand of a tyrannical government. It’s a disturbing work to be sure, the descriptions of torture will sicken even the hardiest of readers, but it is also an incredibly hopeful book, in which a history is reclaimed and preserved from those who would see it destroyed. Solzhenitsyn’s narrative makes this book absolutely enthralling to read. There is a surprising amount of gallows humour, irony and sarcasm throughout. Eamonn Kelly A Little Life – Hanya Yanagihara I recently read A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. Jesus it was good. Honestly, I didn’t think novels written today could be this good. If I tried to sum up the plot I would say ‘it follows four friends over a lifetime’ but that wouldn’t really be correct. The book has many different things going on and takes many different turns. It is a difficult book which deals with difficult topics and does very little to comfort the reader. In this way, it is much like Manchester by the Sea. I highly recommend it. It must be one of the greatest books of this century so far. Harry Peter Sanderson The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood The Handmaid’s Tale is a 1985 near-future dystopian novel that centres on the experience of Offred, a ‘handmaid’ or sex slave in the theocratic Republic of Gilead (formerly the USA). Though the sequence of events that lead to the formation of Gileadean society is not so believable when read in the current century (thanks internet), the atmosphere of isolation, suffering and increasing mania constructed by Offred’s dead-inside first-person narrative feels very real. The Handmaid’s Tale is a classic dystopian fiction, providing a palpably disturbing account of the destruction of the human spirit in a sickeningly sexist, claustrophobic, and lonely society. In lieu of the recent TV adaptation, copies of The Handmaid’s Tale are all over the place, but if you want an escape from uni stress or 2017 political happenings, The Handmaid’s Tale won’t offer the consolation or explanations you’re looking for. It does however provide an interesting reflection on the larger mythologies that both control our own actions and contribute silently to our own suffering. Mara Papavassiliou The Price of Salt – Patricia Highsmith I am currently reading Highsmith’s The Price of Salt. It’s a short novel about Therese Belivet, a young woman mumbling her way through late adolescence. Therese is in love with Carol, an enigmatic lady who cut through to her heart in a moment of extreme physical sensation. Therese is sort of heartbreaking; she seems so remote from herself. She is distanced and abrupt in her interactions with men, but she is so affected by female physicality, both those bodies she perceives to be beautiful and those she sees as grotesque. Women totally disrupt her life, and cause her to veer quickly between compassion for their tragedies and fear of those tragedies infecting her own life. At first she seems to be a character ruled by apathy, but it becomes apparent that she just hasn’t had the opportunities to engage in things she finds personally interesting. I am only halfway through as yet, and not much has happened plot-wise, but the prose is so thrilling that I couldn’t care less. Pema Monaghan
Cinema Re-view: Event Cinemas Innaloo Bryce Newton I’m at Event Cinemas in Innaloo. I like the name, it’s straightforward and confident. I have always thought of going to the movies as an Event. I wear a nice outfit and brush my hair, even when I go alone (especially when I go alone). I have only done that once, and I can no longer remember which film I saw. I begin this review with Concerns I Have With This Cinema Number One: the number of entrances. Why are there so many different doors? It’s likely there are only three or four, but I’ve only been here around five times, and each time I am left with a heightened concerned for my spatial awareness and perception of the world in general. Today, we enter through the door that passes by an eatery with a “this is a diner, okay?” type vibe, and a Time Zone sort of space, lit up at all angles by game machines (it’s nice). I have always found Event cinemas a hard space to navigate, and an even harder space to place my body. The ticket and snack area is cavernous, either inspired by or inspiring the trend of openplan living. Much like a flow through of kitchen to lounge room, a flow through from ticket buying to snack acquirement seems ideal. It usually is, but this cinema floor plan just seems excessive. Everything is out in the open, including your unsure body in a social situation. Encountered on all sides by people engaging in activities, but with you falling in their line of sight. I feel like a background, foreground, statement piece in a suburban shopping centre. The cinema has attempted to control this wealth of space with some kind of line barrier — an ideal traffic director on the journey to acquire movie tickets. Tonight, despite being cheap ticket night, the line is empty and I walk through to the front. The movie purchasing process is quick and efficient, interaction with the person selling the tickets is exceptional. There is not enough time for either of us to strike up a conversation. The five of us move to the snack buying area and split up. Procuring cinema snacks is a time best spent together, but this snack area is interactive (rather than over the counter) and breaks the group apart like a KitKat being responsibly consumed. From far away, this area may look quite fun. It is, up close, quite not fun. There are self-serve cool drink and slushy areas (which I personally find quite stressful), and a LOT of movie specific merchandise. I once got a Jurassic Park metal bucket here (at the time, filled with popcorn), that I now use as a bin at home. Unlike many cinemas, you can purchase ice cream by the scoop here. You would think this option would interfere with their choctop sales, but I forget to ask anyone who would be informed on the subject. Feeling dehydrated, I decide to purchase a water. This has actually been on my mind since the arriving here but I have yet to mention it. I go to take a water from the glass door fridge but stop because a Pump is $6.50. At this point I accept dehydration and any further effects this may have on me during this time. My partner purchases a choc top for $5. The interactive nature of this model is fun, however erasing the middle person, the person who obtains your requested snack and places it on the counter, puts a significant spotlight on the snack-to-person interaction. Unlike other cinemas (such as Luna), where you accept you are purchasing the snack after worriedly listing a random selection of items, this model requires you to accept you are paying $6.50 for a bottle of water, and taking this bottle to the counter. A relationship needs to form, a faith in your purchase. The highlight of this cinema, other than feeling something about the exorbitant food prices, are the promotional cardboard advertisements. These are situated along the hallway where you enter the cinemas, and usually have an aspect of involvement, a way to engage with the film on a 2D cardboard level. I once made my partner sit in front of one (courtesy of a cardboard seat) which was promoting Finding Dory, and at another time on which advertised the Ninja Turtles film. Neither image turned out good enough to use on social media, but I keep them saved in my phone (because of the current storage capacity allowances). Today, I make my sister stand in front of a large (huge) cardboard cut-out advertising (yet another) Cars film. She refuses to post the image on her Instagram, it is not even good enough for her Instastory. I have no future career in promotional-cardboard-advertisement-photography. In the cinema as the film adverts play, my partner has trouble consuming the biscuit crumb crumbed choc-top. He realises at this point, that this was a bad decision and expresses regret. The cinema experience is fine. As we walk out, my sister notices that all stars on the floor (rendered in the infinite life of linoleum) are male actors. On later recollection of this moment, she refers to this area as the “star arcade,” which is quite poetic, and sad.
The Homeliest of Films Back to the Future (1985) Arriving almost exactly in the middle of the ‘80s, Back to the Future is the default film of that decade. Its combination of science fiction, comedy, and drama offers the willing viewer two hours of slick and satisfying filmmaking. In a time replete with perilous excess, it chose some of the better specimens (the DeLorean, Huey Lewis and the News) and in the years since, has drawn them into itself. A few seconds of that perfectly deployed synthesizer is enough to induce a memory of the film’s artwork. The video hire era began in the ‘80s, and its business model could not have been better served by Marty McFly. Later, my parents owned a video hire shop, a fluorescent and neon tribute to everything for which Back to the Future stood. The potential of Friday and Saturday nights, for a minor, lay in the wealth of empty cases on the shop shelf. This film was the fulfillment of that potential, in a style now impossible. Watch it, on VHS if you can, with friends on a Friday night. Order some takeaway and see if it doesn’t feel like home. Clinton Ducas
Little Miss Sunshine (2006) Little Miss Sunshine has such a place in my heart that, before even the first scene begins, the repetitive first chords from the film’s title track elicits from me an almost Pavlovian reaction of happiness and nostalgia. Michael Arndt’s charmingly clever script knits together a family that includes an uptight, unsuccessful motivational speaker, a suicidal scholar, a heroin-snorting grandpa, a selfimposed mute teenager, young Olive – an aspiring beauty queen, and a worn out, overly stressed mother attempting to keep the family together. What makes Little Miss Sunshine special, is that it isn’t a victim of the family drama genre pitfall where love conquers all. In fact, by the end of the film, none of the characters’ problems are even remotely resolved. Yet, with the final scenes showing the Hoover family pile into their broken banana-yellow camper van once more, something has definitely changed. Even as they sit in silence, there’s a sense of genuine understanding and unity between them that has possibly never existed before. It’s an unassuming film about a dysfunctional family, and a garish beauty pageant that manages to be genuinely hilarious, heartbreaking, and wise all at once. Cindy Shi
Shrek 2 (2004) Shrek set a new high for animated films by creating a piece that was not only enjoyable for children, but adults as well, with central characters that were anything but conventional. However, Shrek 2 shook the film industry and revolutionized the entire concept that is entertainment. The movie hits all the marks, starting with the iconic use of ‘Accidentally in Love’ in one of the best montage scenes used in film. Shrek 2 does a great job in showing us life for the ogre power couple since the events of the first film. In my opinion, the best working aspect of the film are its conniving antagonists; the introduction of Prince Charming and the Fairy Godmother establishing the standard villains should aspire to be. Also, it cannot be coincidence that Prince Charming bares intense resemblance to Jamie Lannister from Game of Thrones, an example that further establishes Shrek as culturally and historically influential. For me it is both nostalgic and modern, making references to childhood movies such as The Little Mermaid and Lord of The Rings while at the same time being satirical in its representation of consumerism and the medieval depiction of Cops, titled ‘Knights’. I highly recommend everyone check out Shrek 2 this weekend and bask in the most important film in movie history. Jorge Luis Fonseca
Willow (1988) Ron Howard’s 1988 Willow is high fantasy and is so much fun. I first watched it as a child with my older brothers, and we still talk about it. Produced by George Lucas, it is Star Wars in Middle Earth and I have watched it more times then there are hours in The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Extended Edition. Played by Warwick Davis (later to play Professor Filius Flitwick in the Harry Potter films), Willow is a humble Elwyn who must return a baby, Elora Danan, he has stumbled across to the Dikinis (humans). Elora’s destiny is to bring about the downfall of Queen Bavmorda whose powers are growing like an evil plague. Along the way, he enlists the help of a brash and down-on-his-luck swordsman, Han Solo, or was it Madmartigan, played by Val Kilmer. Led by Queen Bavmorda’s daughter Sorsha, the Queen’s men hunt Willow and his compatriots. The film is hilarious, but it is not just the dialogue and characters that keep bringing me back. The score by James Horner, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra is profound and every time I hear it I feel like I am being lifted off the ground. The film features gorgeous painted landscapes that I find so much warmer than CGI in films today. This hero’s journey sounds and looks amazing. I love films that create a sense of place, and Willow’s world is magical and exciting, and a place I love to inhabit for one hundred and twenty-six minutes at least every couple of years. Julian Coleman 33
Discovering Whiteley with James Bogle Interview by Ryan Suckling James Bogle is a Perth director. His film Whiteley, a docu-drama based on the life and art of Australian artist Brett Whiteley, was released this year. To start with a confession, I hadn’t heard of Whiteley before seeing the film, and subsequently the profound, and at times, disruptive effect he had on the Australian art scene. Born in 1939, Whiteley went on to lead a life of artistic success and renown, but also of destructive obsession. His unravelling talent took him at a young age to study classical art in Europe, settling in London for a time in the 60s. From 1967, he was immersed in the experimental frenzy of New York art, and was constantly at pains to make sense of America’s war in Vietnam. After a long and strenuous battle with alcohol and drug addiction, he was found dead in a motel room in Thirroul, NSW. Bogle’s film visually captures the artist’s sensibility, and his chaotic, roaming life with wife Wendy, an artist herself. The film is ambitious in form and scope – traversing Whiteley’s life and works with an archivist’s thoroughness and an artist’s passion. (When I sat down with James Bogle, I guiltily knew little to nothing of one of Australia’s most revolutionary artists, but left with the clear urge to see and learn more.) How did you first get involved in filmmaking and what has your work consisted of so far? I won the Young Filmmakers Festival Award in 1981. Then went off to Sydney and lived there for 20 years, working for some time with Michael Willesee (Four Corners, This Is Your Life) on documentaries. I’ve made four feature films; the best well know is an adaptation of Tim Winton’s novel In the Winter Dark. I’m drama based and I’ve done a lot of children’s drama, over 50 episodes – including Lockie Leonard, Sleepover Club, Foreign Exchange, and Canine. I recently directed a four hour docu-drama for the ABC called The War that Changed Us which screened in 2015. This [Whiteley] is a foray into a new docu-drama style. It’s the first film I’ve made like this, in that I wanted to make it first-person present tense to try and make a film from Whiteley’s point of view. People are aware of him as a sort of rock-star artist, but a lot of people aren’t more intimately aware of him. I was surprised when I started out – my estimates were that eight out of ten people hadn’t heard of him. It is one of the reasons I wanted to make the film. Also, his art – it’s the sort of art that doesn’t age, still excites people to this day. Why this particular docu-drama format and style? I suppose I’ve been influenced by how people are making documentaries now. The rules have loosened up a bit. In Whiteley, we used actors and written material to give the film a specific point of view, rather than a more general telling. With Brett, I really wanted to find out what made him tick, what made him into the person he was underneath that big front. He was very good when he was on show and had a public persona, but I wanted to have a closer look at him. The way to do that was to go through all his notebooks and letters, and find the key ingredients that tell you about his character, his personality, and his behaviour. The idea was to find everything he’d ever said – audio, video, print etc. and collate it. We set a two-hour timeline and got together everything he’d said in chronological order to see how that felt, and then we started building the film around that. I was really interested in using all sorts of textures and styles, because that’s what his art is like. So I felt there was poetic license there. Now you can see art in a completely different way in film, in its absolute pristine state, digitally. I knew it was going to be a kaleidoscopic experience. How did you go about crafting the style and texture of the film? If you look at his art he’s a real revisionist, with layer upon layer, and detail upon detail. When you look at his art close up there’s all sorts of things going on, and it’s incongruent, and that was very much his style. He was very much about dualism in life – love and hate, life and death. A kind of extremist dramatic style. He’d make something beautiful and then rip it apart. Always out to find the tension in the frame. He was so game, and so incredibly prolific, so it’s didn’t matter if he destroyed his work because he would constantly rebuild. So I thought the film should be like that, in a way. I got a very
good editor (Lawrie Silvestrin) who could handle my madness and my approach, and harness it really. And it’s really an editor’s film. It’s as much Lawrie’s film as it is mine, because he had to pull me in with all the ideas I was bringing to the table. He needed to shape it and hold me back. How did you manage the pacing and pitch of this quite grand and encompassing project? I love playing with pace, pitch, tone and the style of things. With my drama background I’m very aware of that. I always had this idea that after the explosion of New York with The American Dream when Brett went to Fiji, there’s a sigh of relief, and then suddenly it’s almost like watching a meditation film. It involved lurching around, and pitching to and fro, which is a reflection of Brett’s life. If he got energy over something he’d be very full on, and then he’d wait for the next thing to hit. Drawing to him was like breathing, if he couldn’t draw it would send him mad. So there’s a sense of therapy in the film, about art and how important art is in all our lives, and how incredibly healthy it is to involve yourself in some kind of art. The thing about Brett is that he had a gift and he didn’t know what to do with it, and it sort of fucked him up. With people like that it’s very hard to manage. Most of them go a bit mad, and his idea was to just paint his way through it, until his body stopped and he literally dropped dead. But you could argue that at times his art was a destructive manifestation in his life? It was sort of like a curse as well as a gift. If the world starts opening up to you in that way it must be crazy because you know in your heart that it’s the right thing to do, but there is constantly a response to it and further stimulation. That’s got to be a good thing if you experience the world as vibes and electricity, connectivity and energy, as Brett did. He was very confident in public but in letters to his mother, even as a forty-something, he was still crying out in a lot of ways for recognition and acknowledgement from her. She was a really controlling and powerful woman, and he married someone like that [Wendy Julius]. How did you approach his very ambivalent relationship to Australia and ‘home’? He had a love hate relationship with Australia, the beach, and the carelessness of the Australian psyche. I suppose we all have a sense of that when we go to other places and see how difficult life is elsewhere, and you come back and everyone’s cruising around. I think he was conflicted in that way. The thing about Brett is that he would celebrate his conflictions visually. He was obsessed with sex and the carnal, and he got annoyed at how everyone would skirt around and only talk tentatively about these things. He was quite the provocateur, with a lot of erotic material. I mean he was as much of a salesman as a painter. He knew what would sell. An interesting tension in Brett was between his art genius and awareness of making a sales pitch. He had a substantial effect on the local art scene, which brought back a sense of internationality to Australia. The culturati were pissed off about that in some ways because he was so audacious and precocious, but in other ways they were absolutely delighted by it, because he reinvigorated the whole scene. Were you not tempted to make a more conventional biopic out of Brett’s life? I think eventually there will be a biopic about Brett and Wendy, but in my mind, this was the first step that needed to be taken in the currency of today. There hasn’t been a film made about him in 25 years. In my mind it’s a first step where you can offer up so much of his art in 90 minutes as opposed to it being a biopic and an actors’ world. There’s a lot of his original art in the film, over a hundred pieces. I thought that was an important first step.
Rich Complacency Will Cost the Poor: the emergence of the climate change refugee Maddi Howard Art by Danyon Burge It’s the age old saying, ‘The rich get richer, while the poor get poorer’. In historic times, this was a saying used in reference to economic and financial wealth, those who had mansions comparative to those who lived on the streets, those who had food, to those with empty tummies. It’s a slogan still meaningful today, but can now be applied and extended beyond basic finances, to include climate change. Recent studies have found that support for environmental protection increases with wealth. This statistic is at risk of being misinterpreted; that wealthier countries are more concerned about climate change, and are doing more to protect the environment, than their poorer counterparts. Ability to implement environmentally protective action should not be considered indicative of concern about climate change. In truth, poorer nations are just as involved in the matter of environmental protection, if not more so than wealthier nations, with a changing climate threatening their lives and livelihood on a daily basis. As if to support this, a 2013 paper authored by A.Franzen and D.Vogl reported that an increase in GDP ensued a decrease in concern of environmental risk. As wealthier countries are more able to take action against climate change, they are generally better adapted to extreme climatic events, and as such, can consider climate change a somewhat manageable risk. Comparatively, poor countries with few resources and less financial capability are more vulnerable to climate change and have a lower adaptive capacity to climatic events – climate change for the poor is a considerably more threatening influence than for the rich. This is problematic for the climate change mitigation movement, as traditionally; wealthier, developed countries direct the policy and decision-making on international matters. If the wealthy countries adopt a sense of collective security around climate change management, they are less likely to be motivated to address climate change as an issue, and more likely to underestimate the level of risk in ignoring the issue. Already there is global inequality in the emission of greenhouse gases by a country, and the vulnerability to the impacts of climate change that country experiences. Recent studies have found that 20 of the 36 highest emitting countries are among the least vulnerable to climate change. Said countries have been termed ‘free riders’; nations that are producing enormous amounts of greenhouse gases, but are experiencing very little of the consequences. For example, China, India and the United States were earmarked as the greatest greenhouse gas contributors, but have received little of the climate change burden to date. Such a finding is heartbreaking in the context of Trump’s recent decision to pull America out of the Paris Agreement; a global treaty to reduce carbon emissions in an effort to address climate change. It is unfair to those currently on the receiving end of climate change, that a nation will not pull its weight on a issue that it is one of the greatest contributors to. Furthermore, this same nation is likely to become a victim of climate change if it continues a policy of ignorance and denial.
Speaking of denial, Trump’s stance on climate change and global warming has reignited the sceptic argument. An argument almost completely flawed in its composition that humans are not to blame for the acceleration of climate change and that the current state of climate change is a natural occurrence of no concern. Through utter ignorance, and refusal to accept the more informed judgement of 97% of scientists, Trump continues to propagate the climate denial movement, convincing millions of the legitimacy of ‘junk’ science. It is unfortunate that this disbelief in climate change (specifically anthropogenically induced climate change) is holding up proceedings in actually dealing with the issue. Time, crucial to action, is slipping through our fingers are the circular climate change argument continues. It is difficult to see where the doubt about climate change originates – admittedly miscommunication and misinformation cultivated by big media plays a role, as does widespread airing of ignorant political speeches. However, when we see such large scale and frequent devastation, as evident through natural disaster events, or the flooding of island communities from rising sea levels, how can we still question the existence of climate change? 2013 saw three times more people lose their homes to natural disaster than war, displacing approximately 22 million people. By 2030 it is estimated that more than 100 million people will be pushed into poverty by climate change. The coastal and island nations will be amongst the worst affected, along with desert countries and overpopulated megacities. Millions of people will be displaced from financial losses associated with drought, livestock and crop mortality, and storms. Millions more will lose their homes from rising sea levels and resultant floods. Furthermore, events seemingly unrelated to climate change are likely to increase – a humanitarian crisis is on the cards, with displaced peoples putting pressure on immigration laws and border controls as they seek new homes and employment. Civil wars and unrest may be sparked by food shortages and impossible climatic stress. For example, the Centre for Climate and Security suggests that in the case of Syria, regardless of political recovery, the country is so climate stressed that it would be on track to lose 50% of its agricultural capacity by 2050. Despite all indicators of the devastating impact of climate change, wealthy nations remain complacent and frustratingly slow-paced at invoking mitigation strategies and environmental protection laws. I believe it is the responsibility of wealthier nations with the capacity to effect change, to do so. Greater investments in disaster risk reduction measures are necessary and will likely prove a worthwhile return for nations globally. According to Kristalina Georgieva (European Commissioner for humanitarian aid and crisis response), “Every dollar spent on prevention brings at least $4 in savings on damage”. With Australia budgeting $130 million for natural disaster aid in 2016-17, investing in prevention is well worth considering from an economic standpoint at minimum. Surely it is better to be safe than sorry – we only have one planet to protect, and if we lose it to climate change, we’ll be sorry for sure.
The Low-Tech Aquarium John Yaxley Before we bring an animal into our care, the first thing we should ask ourselves is if we can offer the pet a more comfortable, safe, and stimulating life than one they might experience in the wild. Some pets are suited to a domestic life; enjoying an abundance of food, shelter, and socialisation with their owner. Other pets lack natural stimulation, and can express this deficiency through destructive or depressive tendencies – far from desirable for both pet and owner. One only has to observe the utter hopelessness of a fighting fish entombed in the equivalent of a locked closet, to understand that fish belong in the latter of the two types of pets. With this in mind, the concept of aquariums can seem a little depressing. In the natural world, fish traverse great distances through wilderness, hunting and being hunted by a dense and diverse range of competitors, and working day in, day out, to maintain their piece of existence. To then be ‘domesticated’; suspended between gravel and glass in fouling water with little or no stimulus is at the best of circumstances a form of limbo. At the worst, a form of hell. But it does not have to be this way! Aquariums can be a setting of comfort and beauty, a stimulating home well superseding any system found in nature. We can consciously replicate a natural environment, using a dense and diverse variety of plants to create a tank as much a terrarium as an aquarium, where fish can live out their days truly engaged with their surroundings. The Walstad tank, pioneered by Diana Walstad (author of Ecology of the Planted Aquarium) is a self-maintained ecosystem that achieves an ultimate fish haven. Not only do these ‘tanks’ look beautiful, lined with lush green growth that provides an optimal environment, but they are also more practical than high-tech tanks, taking away much of the maintenance and expenditure. The Walstad tank is, in essence, a nod to nature and the ingenious complex interactions that constitute our environment. In ignoring ecological principals (as with traditional aquariums) we create work for ourselves that might otherwise be undertaken by nature. By giving nature the means to reclaim a landscape and mould it to its own accord, we in turn receive the opportunity to observe, learn, and co-operate with the clever forces of ecology. For those interested in designing an aquatic system founded on the principles of nature, five factors must be taken into account: plants, nutrient recycling, microbial life, species diversity and natural selection. Plants are the backbone of any aquatic ecosystem. They maintain the water quality by absorbing excess nutrients, CO2, and other toxic substances, and function by recycling them into plant biomass that supplies both food and shelter for fish as well as oxygenation and cleaning of the water. Plant food is not derived directly from uneaten fish food and waste, but rather from the end products made available through the decomposition process. Said process is undertaken by the abundant microbial life that works in symbiosis with fish and plants. This microbial life requires dirt based substrate, rather than the gravel to thrive. Species diversity ensures ecosystem survival. Different sizes, growth rates, colours, and relationships between other plants and animals will create a space that is active year-round. As plants both compete and aid each other’s success, environmental conditions can overwhelm some plants. The system is in a state of constant evolution, leaving the strongest and best suited to succeed. This natural selection for the fittest and strongest ensures the system will gain resilience and persist with time. The Walstad tank relies on environmental conditions that mimic nature, many of which are not usually available in a sheltered glass tank. These special tanks need access to natural sunlight (at least two, but no more than four hours of direct sunlight), external food sources and constant water movement (effectively supplied by an air stone or sponge filter). They work best with prior research and thoughtful consideration into the placement, establishment, maintenance of, and additions to, the tank system. It is a cruel mistake to conquer the wild and domesticate its inhabitants. This is a lesson that has been reiterated through history, as ignorance is phased out and human empathy is extended to encompass all living things. The aquarium trade must go in the same way as the brutish menageries of past eras. With the lakes drying up and fish becoming refugees, it is now possible for us to offer a new home where fish are not merely household accessories, but are celebrated as the wild animals they were always intended to be.
Home Nathan Tang 1 I cannot remember home. 1.1 Home is not necessarily where you sleep or eat. It is self-evident what a home is. 1.11 “Home-ness” is indiscernible through both logic and science. 1.12 It is easy to confuse the definition of home as being “unknown” as opposed to self-evident. 1.13 Home is known when one is there.
2 I do remember my room. 2.1 My room in Claremont. 2.11 It is discernible as my room as I spend the majority of my life in it. 2.12 It has only been my room for a few years. 2.2 The majority of my life can be found within my room. 2.21 Within one corner there can be a pile of papers and many books I attempt to read simultaneously. 2.211 I have run out of bookmarks so I cannot start a new book until I have finished one of the older ones. 2.3 My bed is an important feature of my room. 2.31 My bed is an extension of my floor. 2.311 It is an extension as my floor is used to keep my guitars. 2.312 It is out of laziness and opportunity that I keep my guitars in such a poor space. At times, I am in too much of a rush to put them away or to take them out. Thus, they lay on the floor. 2.32 I do not sleep on my floor regularly. 2.321 I slept on it once after my first night out drinking. 2.3211 I had underestimated the concentration of alcohol within a shot and how long it takes to take effect 2.32111 I had too many in too short amount of time. 2.33 If I need my floor, then things inhabiting its surface area are relocated to the surface area of my bed. 2.34 If I need my bed, then things inhabiting its surface area are relocated to the surface area of my floor. 2.341 I relocate these objects differently depending on the time of day. 2.3411 In the morning or afternoon they are placed in no particular formula. 2.3412 In the evening they are placed away from my bed and doorways.
3 I also remember my other rooms 3.1 My first room was in Hong Kong. 3.11 It was in an apartment. 3.111 It had wallpaper with a teddy bear holding balloons and floating away. 3.11101 Sometimes I wish I could float away. 3.1111 I tried to bring some of the wallpaper with me to Australia. 3.111101 I tried to bring some of it with me to Perth. 3.1111011 My parents thought it was ludicrous. 3.11110111 I think my parents are insensitive. 3.1111012 Apparently, it was against Australian import laws. 3.111102 I try not to think what happened to that wallpaper.
3.11111 Wallpaper was very common in apartments in Hong Kong. 3.11112 Wallpaper is not very common in houses in Perth. 3.12 I shared this room with my brother. 3.121 There were two beds: one for me and one for my brother. 3.122 The floor was not an extension of our beds. 3.1221 We had to share the floor so it was always tidy. 3.1222 Back then we did not play any musical instruments. 3.12221 We did play with a model field of the Battle of Gettysburg our father bought us on the floor. 3.122201 This did not go onto the bed as it was too soft to place the board. 3.122202 Sometimes we did if we wanted mountains on our battlefield. 3.1222021 We made mountains by lifting our sheets gently: resembling the peaks and valleys of a mountain range. 3.12221 My brother always made me pretend to be the Confederates. 3.122211 I rewrote history all the time so the Confederates won. 3.1222111 I only learned what the Confederates stood for when I moved to Perth. 3.12221111 I have rewritten my own history. I have never fought as a Confederate and I have never claimed they won The Battle of Gettysburg. 3.12221321 Slavery is immoral. 3.12221322 This is self-evident. 3.123 Our beds were small so they were easy to move around. 3.1231 We could arrange our beds to make different shapes. 3.123101 This annoyed mum at times. 3.123102 She found it fun at other times and joined in with us. 3.12311 The most basic combination was to put them right next to one another. 3.123111 This way it was like a double bed. 3.1231111 This left a gap of wood in-between the two beds. 3.1231112 I often slept in this gap. 3.12311121 My brother got annoyed as it took up most of the space. 3.123111211 my rational was that the wooden gap was sealed and therefore, temperately cool. This is helpful as it gets humid in Hong Kong 3.12311122 I told my brother about the coolness of the gap. 3.123111221 Soon it became a battle for who got the cool bit of the bed(s). 3.1231112211 It was similar to the American Civil War as we were brothers. 3.12311122111 I am not a Confederate nor am I a Confederate sympathiser. 3.123111221111 War is hell. 3.12312 The most unusual shape we could make was an â€œLâ€?. 3.123121 This would take up all the floor space.
// The next instalment of this work will be continued in Edition Six //
Climate Change and the Risk to Security Hannah Smith Removed from conventional discussions of global security, climate change and its role in conflict now finds itself at the forefront of debate over the changing nature of war and its beginnings. Climate change significantly exacerbates resource scarcity by affecting what were once considered stable environments, including changes in rainfall patterns and rising temperatures. This environmental variation interacts with pre-existing conditions within a community and can lead to serious instances of violent conflict, and potentially mass human displacement. Climate change is a serious force that affects populations across the globe, but it is its ability to influence instances of violent conflict which remains one of the most understated and little understood effects. Climate change has a role as a threat multiplier, which may potentially worsen political, ethnic, class, or religious pressures already putting strain on society. It does this through interacting with pre-existing conditions, most notably resource scarcity. Countries such as Chad, South Sudan, Nigeria, India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh are all at an extreme risk to the effects of climate change due to their level of development and positioning within their continents, but they also have an increased inclination towards violent conflict. Their dependence on agriculture and potential for resource scarcity in the near future leaves them in a position which may become volatile if climate change interacts with pre-existing discontent and societal issues. It is estimated that 65 percent of their combined working populations are employed in farming, which contributes 28 percent of their overall economic output. These countries are reliant on the very thing which climate change will affect most noticeably, and will therefore feel the impacts of climate change disproportionately. If environmental degradation affects agricultural output, these countries will be left vulnerable in a way highly industrialised nations with a smaller reliance on agriculture would not be. Within the past few years we have already seen examples of this vulnerability become reality, most noticeably during the Arab Spring and Syrian Civil War. Throughout 2010, Russia, Ukraine, Argentina and China experienced droughts while Australia, Brazil and Canada received torrential rain and storms, extreme weather events believed to be a result of climate change, significantly damaging the worldâ€™s wheat and grain supplies and doubling the cost of basic foodstuffs in a matter of months. Food crises gripped the Middle East and North African (MENA) regions of the world, which are particularly susceptible to changes in food supplies and prices due to their highly agriculture based economies. A causal link has been proposed, indicating that the food crisis experienced throughout the MENA region had a relationship with the beginnings of the Arab Spring. As food prices spiked and food riots broke out throughout much of the Arab world, including Egypt, Libya, Tunisia, and Syria, it became clear that revolution would be the end to the discontent. However, it is still important to consider increasing food prices as an aggravating factor rather than a direct and singular reason for the revolt. It would be a mistake to ignore other aspects of the uprising, primarily the desire to remove Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, and yet it is interesting to note that by the end of the 2000s, and before the climate change induced food crisis, the MENA region was the only area worldwide to experience a decline in overall satisfaction and wellbeing. Part of this was due to a rise in the cost of living, including house prices, as well as a dissatisfaction with healthcare, job prospects, and public transportation, which were all factors exacerbated by frustration and anger which grew throughout the period of food scarcity they were living through. Riots over food became outlets for the discontent felt throughout the region for years, and incensed populations who were already exposed to several pre-existing factors which negatively impacted their lives. Resource scarcity due to climate change therefore multiplied the danger those pre-existing threats entailed, and while it may not have been a direct cause it created circumstances conducive to beginning the period of political uncertainty that followed.
Part of what many consider the aftermath of the Arab Spring, the Syrian Civil War, can also be contested as having foundations in climate change, where environmental degradation interacted with factors of the regime and living conditions to significantly increase conditions encouraging the beginnings of the revolution. Syria was left acutely vulnerable to climate change and resource scarcity as President Hafez al-Assad introduced policies to increase agricultural production, in doing so exploiting the limited land and water available to Syria. These policies included quotas, land redistribution, irrigation projects, and subsidies for diesel fuel, without thought for long term sustainability. The disastrous effects of these were felt most heavily in the north-eastern regions of Syria, where increasing poverty was coupled with decreasing groundwater reserves. Beginning in 2007 and continuing until 2009 and beyond, Syria and the Fertile Crescent recorded precipitation at below 40% of normal levels, the worst drought on instrumental record. As production rates fell, Syria had to import wheat for the first time in nearly twenty years, after the north-eastern region, originally counting for two-thirds of the countries wheat production, dried up. The drought itself was most severe in the north-east of the country, considered to be one of the most impoverished communities within Syria, and yet it still acts as the country’s breadbasket region and largest source of oil. School enrolment decreased by up to 80% in northeast regions as families were forced to move due to a lack of resources, displaced to larger cities in the south. Thus, the effects of climate change significantly impacted Syrian lives, however it was one of a number of interlinking factors which seriously interrupted and moved people from their homes. Syria’s drought greatly exacerbated pre-existing resource scarcity, namely water scarcity and agricultural insecurity, and led to widespread agricultural failures and a rapid decrease in livestock. The most significant consequence of this interaction between climate change and the resource scarcity that ensued was the migration of as many as 1.5 million people from rural farming areas to the peripheries of urban centres and cities. They joined as many as 1.5 million Iraqi refugees left abandoned following the US invasion of Iraq in 2003. This mass migration and displacement of the rural population swelled the number of ramshackle settlements which grew on the peripheries of Syrian cities, producing poor infrastructure which was often overcrowded, and a high unemployment rate. This came to be at the heart of the growing discontent within Syria. Cities such as Dara’a, Homs, and Hama became focal points in expressing a dissatisfaction with growing poverty, a growing rural-urban divide, widespread corruption, and rising unemployment. These factors were already pre-existing threats in Syria, but were multiplied by the onset of climate change induced forces. Former US Secretary of State John Kerry acknowledged climate changes role in the Syrian civil war, recognizing that “instability anywhere can be a threat to stability everywhere.” Kerry himself understood that instability and pre-existing conditions can threaten global security. In Syria, a dictator mismanaged scarce resources and his population was left in a destitute state. Already affected by resource scarcity, climate change induced factors served to only create more discontent among the populace. Climate change has become one of the newest facets of security analysis over the past two decades, with academics increasingly acknowledging links between climatic changes and instances of conflict. It is now broadly accepted that climate change acts as a secondary threat multiplier, interacting with pre-existing problems to threaten global stability and lead to conflict. It can be determined then that it is the interaction of several factors which creates potential for conflict, and that climate change may multiply the threat upon global stability. With very little end in sight for rising global temperatures and environmental degradation, we must continue to consider the long-term impacts climate change will have on the face of the planet, and how conflict and conflict resolution must adapt to these new threats.
Protecting the Home or Preventing Others from Having a Home? Olivia Roberts “We are not going to allow, given the level of debt that our country is in, for more debt to be run up paying for welfare services for people who are not genuine,” Immigration Minister, Peter Dutton, claimed in his defence of the new time limit set on “fake refugees.” The government have recently proposed multiple changes to the legislation on immigration and citizenship in a claimed attempt to “protect” Australian citizens. Prime Minister Turnbull informed the Australian Chamber of Commerce and Industry that the changes to the Australian Citizenship Act 2007 are aimed to “improve social cohesion” and “enhance security.” It will remove 457 visas, increase the requirements for citizenship and gives Dutton the ability to overrule decisions by the Administrative Appeals Tribunal and revoke citizenship of Australians. Thus, the following changes aspire to protect the cohesion of Australian society and values as well as Australian jobs, yet in practice will unreasonably restrict asylum seekers and refugees from calling Australia home. One controversial change to laws proposed by Dutton is an English competency test. To obtain citizenship, applicants must receive level 6 competency in the International English Language Testing System. This is already a requirement for citizenship in other Commonwealth nations. The Labor party have claimed the test will require applicants to have a university level of English competency, yet many Australian born citizens are not at this level. Dutton provided a sample test to parliament featuring comprehension questions on complex issues like carbon emissions, automated newspaper production, and cinema history. These topics expand beyond the level of English required for everyday life, one question even asking about chlorofluorocarbons, a word I, as an Australian born citizen and whose first language is English, have never heard of. The Bill also gives the Immigration Minister the power to overturn citizenship decisions made by the Administrative Appeals Tribunal. Dutton will have the ability to revoke citizenship of Australians who are suspected of gaining citizenship through migration or citizenship fraud regardless of whether they have actually been convicted. Australian justice is built on the presumption of innocence, by which any person is assumed innocent unless proven to be guilty. The amendments to citizenship will, however, allow for the Immigration Minister to revoke a person’s citizenship before they have been proven guilty. It is ironic that the government’s proposed legislation would undermine the presumption of innocence considering both the Prime Minister and Immigration Minister have claimed the amendments are aimed at promoting Australian values. Greens Senator Sarah Hanson-Young has claimed that the Bill is not aimed at promoting our values, but instead is “more dog whistling from a xenophobic minister.” Given that this provision would undermine the presumption of innocence, it seems that while the government is claiming to be trying to protect our home they are merely taking xenophobic measures to prevent Australia from being a home to others. Dutton has also stated that “fake refugees” will be deported if they do not apply for a temporary protection visa by October 2017. He claims that “fake refugees” are “people who are refusing to provide detail about their claim of protection… or indeed refusing to lodge their protection claims.” This term is disgustingly loaded with xenophobic sentiment and implies that these people seeking asylum are ingenuine. However, refugee lawyer David Manne who successfully challenged the Gillard government’s Malaysian Solution, believes that this is too small an amount of time to apply for temporary protection visas (TPVs). An application for a TPV involves completing forms with over 100 questions and a detailed written statement explaining their fears of return to their home country, both in English. He also said that many applicants require expert legal advice to understand the process. Therefore, to apply for a TPV, applicants must already have a sufficient understanding of English. This seems unreasonable considering most are fleeing countries where languages other than English are spoken and appears to be another attempt to prevent Australia from being a home for refugees. The proposals to replace the 457 visa with a stricter temporary foreign worker scheme are aimed at, according to Prime Minister Turnbull, ensuring “Australian workers must have priority for Australian jobs.” While it is claimed that the changes are aimed at protecting domestic jobs, in reality the proposed changes will not protect Australian jobs any further than the 457 visa did. Only 8.6% of 457 visa holders at the end of 2016 were working in occupations that would be excluded under the proposed visas. The proposed changes will not protect Australian jobs as the government suggests they will, and the claim to protect domestic interests may in fact be a smokescreen for preventing refugees from calling Australia home and an attempt to win votes from those unhappy with the current 457 arrangements. It appears that while the government claims to be maintaining the safety of our home, the changes to immigration and migration laws only have the effect of preventing refugees from having a safe home.
Republic? Mike Anderson In late 1999 Australia went to the polls to decide if we should become a republic. This proposition was defeated with a margin of 55% to 45%. Eighteen years on and Australia is a starkly different place, instead of an ardent monarchist for a Prime Minister (John Howard) we have Malcolm Turnbull, the man who chaired the Australian Republican Movement (ARM) leading up to the 1999 referendum. One would think that with such a prominent republican as Prime Minister we would be all the closer to holding another referendum, this is not the case. Turnbull has stated he would not seek another referendum until after the reign of Queen Elizabeth II. With the ARM having relaunched in 2015 and their active campaigning this year, the question of a republic doesn’t appear to be going away, and it’s clear they want a republic before Charles (or William) take the throne. Why should they? As said by others, surely we would want a beloved monarch being the last, rather than leaving with a bitter taste in our mouth. Further, a republic surge in a post-Elizabeth era would surely place her successor under large amounts of scrutiny, seeing a collapsing Commonwealth. Becoming a republic will not sever any emotional ties Australians have with Elizabeth, nor the United Kingdom, and I anticipate the feeling of loss within an Australian Republic will be no less heartfelt than if it were to occur under a monarchy. Claims that we should wait until after the reign of Elizabeth are merely a delay on a debate that we should be having right now. A thing to consider with the path to a republic is a clear requirement to involve leaders from Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Nations. A treaty must be signed, and the shape that the republic takes must be reached through discussion and consensus with the First Australians. The Uluru Statement from the Heart released earlier this year, following a 3-day convention of First Australians, made a rejection of empty recognition and called for a representative body in which a First Australian voice would be heard. The Statement calls for constitutional recognition and a treaty. Whether this treaty ultimately leads to a republic, the adoption of a new constitution or is the first step in ensuring their voice is heard during the republican debate is not for me, a white Australian, to decide. A First Australian voice must be involved in the debate, whether it be dissenting to the republic, indifferent, or in favour. Following the 1999 Referendum many speculated it was the wording of the question that led to the failing of the referendum. A referendum must be posed as a yes or no question, not an open choice of preference. This meant that the question put forward by the constitutional convention, one that would see the Parliament appointing a head of state (a model known as minimal change republicanism) rather than the public voting. The ARM was comprised of multiple factions that supported different models of republic, roughly split between 4 different camps, radicals, progressives, minimalists and McGarvieminimalists. Ignoring the semantics of the differing models of republicanism, the fact that a minimal change model was put forward is seen to have turned many who would have supported a republic away from supporting the referendum. This has led some to claim that support for a republic is much stronger than the result suggested. The ARM appears to have learnt its lesson, promotional material this year has shown their “republic timeline” detailing they would want a plebiscite on what model should be used – this being a departure from the Constitutional Convention that we had prior to the ’99 referendum. This could foreseeably allow a greater involvement in the choice for which model of republic (or monarchy), the country wanted. This would present a consensus candidate to be put forward at a referendum. This could still lead to divisions within the republican movement and easily result in yet another failing at the ballot box due to a feeling that they would rather a monarchy than a republic they don’t support the model of. The debate about an Australian Republic is not going away any time soon, and is likely to be a recurring feature of Australian Political discourse until either a successful vote is had, or the movement falls apart due to infighting. My hope is for a republic to be attained in my lifetime, with a strong First Australian voice, and one that strengthens our democracy.
Presidential Address Nevin Jayawardena UWA is considered home by many, particularly the 149 Guildaffiliated clubs and societies and all the various representative departments of the Guild. These different groups all cater to the diverse range of students we have at UWA, providing each and every student with the opportunities and support that creates an amazing #studentexperience. In my first year, I first got involved in DESI Students’ Society. If you’re wondering, DESI doesn’t stand for anything. Instead, it means people, culture and products from the sub-continent. Through DESI, I met a lot of people with whom I shared a lot of cultural similarities and because of this club I started coming to uni more, not for study but for a more complete university experience! After DESI, I became the Guild Societies Council President. In this role, my aim was to support all the clubs in providing their members with a great experience just like I had. Now, as Guild President, I have an opportunity to do even more!
Art by Tess Bury
So, I urge you to get involved in a club or a department to experience the best of what UWA has to offer and truly make this your home. Nevin Guild President
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Published on Aug 4, 2017