Since the Odyssey is topical, as are immigration and masculinity, I thought I would publish this old piece I wrote after reading Emily Wilson's translation of it. Emily Wilson’s translation of The Odyssey is a sumptuous experience, at once nostalgic and new. “Nostalgia” is a longing for
“That nothing is mere or only…” The first line of David Malouf’s poem “Seven Faces of the Die” came to me as I listened to the monk known as Brother Spirit describe the connected richness of all things at a Plum Village retreat for climate change and nature advocates.
“Artificial intelligence” and the management of despair “These evils to the men have arisen from that dreadful monopoly which exists in those districts where wealth and power are got into the hands of the few, who, in the pride of their hearts, think themselves lords of the universe.” Journeyman cotton
Famously, it was the effects of extreme weather that triggered the French Revolution. The “causes” were many – gross inequality, urbanisation, weak and oligarchic governance, the circulation of shocking new ideas and pornographic scuttlebutt via populist DIY media – but a decade of failed harvests, bitterly cold winters and widespread hunger brought
“What are people going to do? They are going to start robberies” The subtitle is a quote from a story in The Australian describing Yallourn North in Victoria's Gippsland as the heartland of One Nation's recent surge in popularity, linking this to the forthcoming closure of
One source of bewilderment for climate advocacy in the twenty-first century is the stubborn interval, the hiatus—the chink—between fact and act. Careful sifting and milling of facts for half a century has not triggered transformational change. One of the frequent demands climate advocacy makes is to “follow
Two related problems caught fire in me when forests I love burned in the Black Summer, six years ago now. I began this newsletter in part to explore these problems and am grateful to you all for your interest. Though the newsletter has been sporadic, as the year ends, I&
During two days of parliamentary debate about Australia’s national environment laws this week, I was reminded of the guest lecture I gave in September at the University of Newcastle for Professor Patricia Pender, in her course “Writing for Social Change.” The piece below is adapted from that lecture and
“Come to me, said the world," (Louise Glück, from “October,”) “Computer says, ‘no’," (David Walliams in “Little Britain”) In Tasmania, contrast makes plain the root of the crisis. Wild forest is patched by plantations. Uniform neat rows of adolescent blue gums on bare ground, or the howl of
Australian Government yesterday released a comprehensive National Climate Risk Assessment. It is the first time in over 15 years that a detailed review has been undertaken into the likely consequences of climate change for this country, and really the first time ever that it has all been pulled together like
Theodor Adorno declared that “poetry after Auschwitz is barbarity.” I won’t say this is precisely why it has taken me several weeks to put something new in this Handbasket, but waves of grief have been swamping me and I have not been able to make sense in the turmoil.
The evidence paints a picture of the Pilliga as a cultural landscape where Gomeroi cosmology is alive and the celestial bodies, animals, plants, lands and waters interact with Gomeroi people (Native Title Tribunal Future Act Determination, Santos NSW Pty Ltd and Another v Gomeroi People and Another 2025) Early this