ex Great Southern Streetwalking Nomad

1. AUSNATIONAL HERITAGE
EXCERPT ‘Streetwalkin Nomad’ MJLatham 8 5 21
The baseline of groundandcountry
… this wonderfulold land massof ours.
(Itwas still there lastIlooked);
Thismassive heritage bulkof detailedlandcountrysubstance thatwe pragmaticallyadaptand
renovate;
we all touch itsbroaderearth andthenjoinhands,beautiful naturedplaces,vastcloudroofed
kernel-roomsandforestwalls,valleysandcoves –the awesomeminutiaeasmuch as and singular
with thebroad awe;
all filteredintrinsicwithsunlightsandmoonlightsflickeringeyesresting,throughanotherclear
sheetof rigidmeltedsand,onthe shadowsof eucalyptleavesfallingtothose leafs intheir
shadowedlightlee,all of themwaftingandwavinginthe movingairswiththe coloursof
photosynthesis,whitishreflectedlight,grayedatshadow andmergingwithfleshyfickledlimbsand
theirfractal-likedisseminationtothe fine line enteringeachleaf. All thiscutoff straightbythe
window-sill paintedsimilarincolourandreflectingthe same lightalbeitaverytightmomentlater
ontothe curtain-foldagainof similartone.Butthere’snoughtmuchsimilarityinthe fragrant
fragrance,not odour,scent,or smell butblendedfragrance finelyvariedleafwithleaf tone with
tone,hue withhue andinsectarmpitstoo.
Thisis incountrynot a lot intownletalone cityand megalopolis,huge railwayyardoropencut
impost.Canwe shouldwe notdo withoutall of some or some at least.
It is this baseenvironmenthomeof thezindigian-
australian thatwerenovate,adapt,enhance,filter,
tap,cut & shunt,into quarries,mines,forestcoupes,
rangepasses,building footings,sewerpondsforpublic
realm, workplace,residentialgeographicplace,
houses,very largeconstructions,highwaysand air
strips.
We still usuallysitourcityhallswhere we will,onlytostifle acritical soul of place inour little
townsroom-boomingsprawl.
What will we dowhere will we goaswe renovate the landonwardswithestablisheddemo-
geographicprevail andimpost?Ye
olde handsplittimberslab will rarelyor
nevernow be built – or will itindeed?!
The Aboriginesnosteelen blademade;
trulywas itat all needed.
A eucalyptplantationwithsilicon-cleversplitting
mechanicsmightproduce perfectlysplitundamaged
surface graintimbersthatwill weatherlong-timein
uncut grainnatural resilience torainand rot,going
silvergrayand needingnotchemical sealant. Enhance
the new mechanical advantageswithnew forest
Slab roof.. never
known a liquidcoat
other thanrain&
melting kunanyington
snow.
Photo from old glass
slide: J&MGrist

2. breeding&we may well have abeautiful fine detailedbuildingmaterial.Maybe we haven’tseen
the last of thisessentiallydelightful architecture.
The glowingred-orange tickticktickof the automobile trafficturnindicatorlikelywillbe around
for a while inourpublicarchitecturesthoughenhancedtofacilitatedriverlesssilenttechnology.
For manysuch audio-visualfunctioningshave dailyoftensubliminalpartsinoursensorymelee.
Great Southernandanywhere global share …sowhat isour great southernuniquenessandor
special charactersfromwhichwe grow - red desertandabundantgray-greenandsandcoastal
withpeople of wildernessthatwasisinfact home of endlessoutdoorindoorsmeetingwithpeople
of the seaand back-home foreignvastcadasteredindoorsandabove all …guns bangbang.
BetweenyourAyresRockback to uluruthenacross to the operahouse,streetsweepcleanthe
australianuglinesspillowbuiltonprime lands….Woooopsfeelingsickagainabouttomeltoff the
chair here todayisit too late heyhey.Isthere hope while we play,‘vinegar and brownpaper’the
orderof the day; I have to relyonothersto carry that day. Makingdo withsome adhoc
computeroid ticker-tape clues:the genome is the concentriccentre of the atom-star-gravity
triangle.That’ll dogive me some soul thatIcan breathe.Streetwalkingnomadfindsfocusin
countrysoul,as he walksdownSydneyLane,nosidewaysintofluorescentvoidlike Geogalong
walkingthroughthe house utilisingsome space-floorandnotother. There are parts where people
don’tneedtogo. There are people still…a tad too many,and lookingforoursunnybeachesto
blendwiththeirownculture,andsothe agony-joy of zindigenous acclimations&adaptations.
Theyare there:here withusnowtogetherandapart. Our dance isdisjointedandsome
disappointedwiththe future thathasevolvedfromtheirpast.How manyknow and how many
presume;whichdoandwhichdon’t:goldinthe rabble,rabble aboutthe gold.Sosomany: so so
fewknowanddo. Vietnamese justo’erthere –partof the picture frame of our heritage chunkof
land,suchlovelypeopleasa pairof theirownshoeshumble.Humbleandlovelybutstill bickerand
leanonthe bodythat will fall atthe beginningthattheysee asan end.Quy Nhomtownbysome
watera saltyshore withwavesabubble andthe fisherman’soar.We surge as a teamas a crew
tastingof salt and bite onthe meatdrawn fromthe net.Lookingto the leftandto the right
thinkingof the centre asour self,of the writeras someone else.Takingoff the shoe becauseit’s
become all wet,bothfootandshoe are betteroff dryinginthe warmthof the breeze blownsun.
The fishhooksnagsthe little toe andherbloodwatered,asitmeton herskinthe brine;wasno
worryat all,notat all,take me home fishingpal,take me toshore,we have a fishandmy shoe is
wet,take me home to the mat wovenfloorandthe hot little cookbox thatgrandpabroughtand
uncle installed.The youngwomenrememberedbythe glowingwood,now orange emberedand
saw inhervisiona hintof dangerousfission,notatall far,in fact touchingherskinandher
mother’s,inthisvisionnor-east.Itwasmore a thoughtat the closenessof itall,all the seething
productionsof manypeople otherthanheror hers,a coastal sea awaybut atomicfalloutwashing
up on boardand splashinginfromthe oars.
We care sowe know:it’sthere splashinginfromthe oars,feedingthe gullsonthe shores,festering
the oysterswithmicroscopicsores.The Frenchmanandthe Yank,the Pom and the Kiwi,the
politicianandthe headbanger:theyall dranktoomuchand simplyflushedtheiroars.
It’sall too big,too big,toobig to manage to see: sometimesall we see isdamage shininglighton
whatwas good,that once keptcompanywithwhat isgoodand remains,remainswaitingforthe
goodto come andjoinit ina complete wholistichumof awesome answerdevoidof question.
Simplysomethingthatis simplyfantasticeverydaywhere there isnodisasterforthe mindto
mention.

3. Mentionto who?The eyesoutthere lookinginhere.Orthe mindof the dancer collapsed
ecstaticallyexhaustedonthe disciplinedwoodenchair – manymilesfromanyoar or fission,with
that awesome answerrecliningcomfortablyinherhair.
Reader,myowninteractive position:
There came again time towrite and it’sthisone righthere.What for,whofor,in the middle of the
night. A fragmentof a personreceivinganobel prize,the winddriftingthroughthe sleeping
cavernsleftbythe university’sairsystemandthe pollutantdustpluscosmicdustformingthe
genomicpattern-baldingof herconsciousness.There are timestoread eventhough it’sonlythe
feel of the booksuitingyourinteractiveinteractionandthe anticipationof acosy realm
neutralizingthe urbanstormsthat bringone to ingestthe firstof the endlessstringthatrestsas
the fingerrevertsthe file toitsfolder.The nudgerwhonurturedthe movementtowrite maynot
have intendedone readertoingest.The readerwasnotas apprehensive norasbewilderedat
whatis writtenandinfact convertedthe write tofitthe psychedelicheal,soughttorepairthe
cavernsthat had formedonlythateveningwhenanews headlinecollidedwithalovingnotion -
thisto the highlyinappropriatecelebrationof agroup of youthsstrollingtraffic-defiantattiredina
newtraditional arrayof culturedfabricand colour,itself nurturedbythe same nudgeraspart of
the eternal canvas. Are there people whoknow andpeoplewhodon’t.Of course the reader,the
writer,the prize winnerbutnotthe nudger;forthe nudgermustknow all to allow the wine glass
to ringresonate as the agingcuff linkchinksthe rim.Is a Rolf Harris broadbrush paintingthat
starts as a mysteryandcomesup clearout of the artistsimpressionisticsquintorisa largely
accidental paint-drippedsinglemindrationalethatcan be pointlesslynamedBluePoles(andsobe
celebratedandperpetuated) sufficienttosteal fromthe nudgerthe copyrightthatcreates
regardlessmanyacerebral joy.Oh ourpeople of shallow smilesthatappearfull andcompleteto
the viewersproppedupbywindblowncavernsandbonesdissolvingincoke.The writerknowshe
has caverns buthe knowsnotwhere.Hiseyesstingandclose,he’sabouttofall face to the
keyboardbuta nudgerputsit to bed.
It riseseighthourslaterbrighteyedandbushytailed,eyesrestingthroughanotherrigidtransparent
sheetof meltedsandincityglory.The bestof citieswill alwaysrequiresomethingthatisn’tan
emotional motion-full rushedrashof unattachedpeople;the eternalephemeral handcraftedcountry
village andnomurbicnomadsmayuse the creationsof the cities - okaybut if there are devices we
needpersonalisedzero-roomscreens;especiallyforthe children. The twoshouldflow together.
Let's wary be
of the frontiers of urban planning having us
stand besideourselves idolitic in
wonder atwhatwe can create
ratherthan stand with that of the greatcreator of all.
There wasalwaysat leasta personof character,nearbyina far-off memoryof friendlyconnection,
enhancingthe appreciationswithawilywit,himself anudgerneedinganudge.Thisone inmindis
nowa writeralso.Like the leafyshadowsandinterplaysof lightthe writersof ourpeople are read
invocational relativity;the language grows,the genres,the wisdoms,the turnsof tongue.Some
are stolen,the readerdoesn’tknow.Some are revelation,the readerdoesn’tnotice.A writer
writingof writingisflounderingandflappingfortake-off.The flounderisa fine fish,beneathits
wingsisa brine of its locale.Notthe same preciselyasthe brine cutbya surfboardfinatsome Lion
Rock locale offshore the Melaleucawildernesswhere the waterswearthe minutiafromthe local
creekand the droppingsof the local fishdiet.We are findinglift-offwhere the eagle isrelative to
the flounder;asgo the creaturelylocalesmerginglocal creature typesinthe lifeacidsandsimple
mechanicsof bone fleshandmuscle.We are away.Goingsomewhere.Vietnamese sea,village,city
awe,manmade threat,simple nature,trendyset.Cultural persuasionslocal like brineandspoiled

4. as easy.The god particle,feelinguslooking,awesome canvasandmasterpiece inone.The
internet.The binariednanocircuits.Awesome seductionspowerfulgoods.The trapof built
interior,the newtrapof cyber interior.The lightof dayirrelevanttothe cyber-adaptedsomewhat
snaredeyes,the hunter’sreflex irrelevanttothe zeroroomgameplayer’shandeye.He needsthe
foodfromthe lightof daybut managesthat,thenin to play.The doctor will visitohyesforsure.
He can come throughthe cyberdoor andpost the medicine inthe mail tokeephimgoing‘til he
fallsheadfirstdownstairsthinkinghe’sinhischair.The flounderhasnoideawe thinkbutwe
wonderaboutthe squidandprintinginksnow simplypixel colour.
The date intime,the toolsthataccrue; enoughto sendthe robotto mars and leave aslimysludge
at the factorypipe.Fromthe africanplains,wildanimals,insectsandbirds;we see themaplentyin
the digital screensthathelpedtocause theirdemise,byindustrial footprint:the screensare a
pinnacle onthe industrial rampage thatdrainsenergy,pollutesandover-runs.While thisis
happeningthe catat the corner,as he can, tellshismatesthathe eatsthe same foodas humans
and stretchesatall positionsinfrontof theirfire while the alleycatsgothe binsoutdoorsinthe ice
of winter;
: ) … remindsme of the billionairecowswe saw,sittingsublime withlushfoodjoy,soclose tothem
as to require onlythe mostconvenientof reach andluxuriantdelicacy munch.We celebratedthis
fromopencar on ournarrow windybitumenribbon,tree-overhung,inthe mostaestheticof all
rich longthickchoice-greengrassyravined,delled,hilled,sunnednichelocales,mooingultralush
nearenoughto a battlingaussie homemaker.The holyspiritwiththe greatcreatorcomesby,
passesandreturnsto dwell,oninvitation,makingthe reasoningof itall obviousthoughinvisible.
Humouris ours,ours at least.Funnystoriesandcircumstance loweredusto a gut wrenchinglaugh
unable tostand butonlyto layon the floorlaughingsohard that all thoughtmaybe theymightdie.
It was refreshing;we hadn’tdone thissince we were nine.
There wasnothingbetterthanthat laughter,thatI couldsee.Init the lushest,richestof colours
and musicwere all bound.The laughterneededthe contextthough;be itlight-mottledeucalypt
leavesorrefinedplasterornamentinavictorianerahouse.Itneededcompany,whetheran
audience orfellowlaughers.Itneededanopportunity,forone doesn’tpartake wheninstealth
witha bowand arrow pointedtoa pheasantforthe family,norwhengivingthankstothe
supremelygracioussaviour- forindeedthe bugof earthis contagiousinheritedandusually
ultimatelydeadly.

5. A numberof momentarycircumstancesafterwardcame another‘patch in the quiltof shared lives’;
seeminglyunrelatedlittlepatchesof eventsandcircumstance,of people andactivity,of weather
and screen.Patchby patchand many forgottenuntil the topicof anotherpatchwhenwe reachthe
bottom.Is there a passioninthere;ahthat’ssomethingwe like andif we don’thave one there we
may diminenvyand wonderatthat whichwe don’thave. Microscopicviews,macroscopictoo,
passingconversersinblackshinyshoes.Littlebitsandpieces,butmypicture isinmyownstride
not that of the passers-bynora patch of weathernoreventhe hole inmyshoe.Iknow where Iam
going,youwere coming too;and whenIlost myway,it was me whowentwithyou.It hasbecome
a story of walkinginplace inour world,a storyof identityandpreferenceandwonderingabout
whatwe’re told.If youeverleftwouldIcome too?I’m all rightwhenI’mwithyou.Maybe yoursis
one of the fat people orIalmostwas.Maybe she was one of our few prone gaywho felttofightit
away.Let there be aceswhere once yousoughtdiamondswhile inprayerfordeliverance from
thievesinthe middleof anight.
It’srelative to the eagle andthe flounder,the vietnamese andthe streetkids;toshakespeare and
‘johnthe baptist’. A plunge intothe seanearshore,froma surfboardat the top of a headhighwave,
bubblesall aroundandthe positivityof the negative ionsinthe foam, massagesfull bodywitha
powerful energybornwayoutat sea,small atthe base of an everso huge atmosphericdowndraft.Up
youcome freshwithzestimpassionedandkindanew,notevenwonderingwhatyoushoulddo;doing
the same as being.Forthe man who growshisfingernailsintohisclenchedhand,forthe womanwho
burstswithvigourwithherfamily;doingisbeingisdoing.Beingdoingbeing,doingbeingdoing.There
are billionswhohave beenanddone,here inthisearthypatch;thispatchof richand wonderful
vegetatedabundance andserendipiccomfortandcompany.Thispatchoft timesIhave wished
eternal,forgettingthe dissipationof unconsciouszest,the outwashof feral nuclearradiationsandthe
small murdersof emotional distortionandfouled genomes.Where wasInow,where are you…and
the onesbeside you – inthe companyof yourzestand drive;andus intheirs.There are those withus
intheir’s;there reallyare.
Our buildingsandconstructedrealmsare notthere tobe
garnishedbyourculture selvescountryside neighboursbut
rather are there to shelter,foster,embrace andcelebrate all of
these things.Letbe andmake all these thingsvibrantandgiving
love tosame will ina momentof unifiedtime create the wombat
shopat the oldbank corner withall itsaccompanimentour
buildingsandconstructedrealms.
The gossamerdelicate nomurbicharmonybetweenbecomes
steelenjoy.
Nomurbicsis the architecture to do it.We don’tknow it exactly
yetbut itstarts withan ayre-ulururianparliament-house andgrowstofitour songs - free nomadic
roam, hunting and camp options on t h e d e s i g n - p u r p o s e d r i p p e r
e a r t h e n c o u n t r y r o o f o f o u r h o u s e o f n a t i o n a l p o l i c y c h a t t e r –
but foiledbythe bug’o theworld,rightthere inthe countryabove parliamenthouse,withno
personnel security(foreitherpolitic),shamefullydidn’tbutshouldhave ephemerallypicnickedin
celebrationandelaborationof anepiceventandintent.Petercosgrove governorgeneral,thoroughly
hilariedmalcomturnbullprime ministermetclyntonpryor(Priortomost!) aboriginal ‘citizen’having
freshlyarrivedatthe endof his walkfrom Perthviathe likesof uluru,desertandcommunitiesthe
longway toCanberra.The air wasstill inan echoof silence-nce ...nobodydaubinganythingtonear
match the Clyntonfresh.
Now;
there’s apalatino-linotype (font-style) willy-willy intrusion changing the scenario,righthere dropping inthe writing
page from some weeks hence (this did happen). The scene on the rooftop is now more -so one of the he ri tag e
c o untry l and-b as e ; dozershaving pushedthe earth back over the interiors ofle carcass parlimentaire, bit of re-
Pryor Arrived to..
Traced by Mont

6. engineering, now on the roof the g ums and s e dg e g ras s e s o f l o c al s e e di ng and ai rs hav e
g ro w n and there is no surface constructionyet. This iswhat is grantedby the early hours andsettlesthrough my morning bath,
dust to water into type. Melted faces of hopeless self-disgust humiliated native-boatie visages frozen in the actionless
momentmeltedi n t h e l e af c r u n c h b e e t l e d e ar t h dr ag g e d ac r o s s b y a t h o r o u g h l y u n f e de r a t e d
u n g u t t e d r o o c ar c as s t o b e t h r o w n b y C h e e k y ac r o s s t h e f l am i n g dr y e u c al y p t l i m b s s e t
i n t h e o c c as i o n al e p h e m e r al e t e r n al f i r e . The fire is set, nomurbically drawing an order of land a
comparative entropy into the oldpurely centralisedformality, justaside the ‘top’ in granite, an openchimney -free
fireplace with polished shoulders unengraved with british font similar to this. The top is rehashed, the light can
still get to interiors parlimentaire, but local rock and stock standard simple bush is re-enacted and the built top
newly detailedwithintimacy and hand expressionre-acknowledging itas a s m a l l f r i e n d o f t h e l a n d . The existing
building and site designhad gone some distance but notfarenou
gh; lawnedroofharking notto the local watercourses
and rises, the 100k sniffto the mighty oceaneastand the vastwestcrossing to the macdo nnels central but instead
to petrol mowers motor noise commercial weedkiller fertiliser cadastre and concrete kerbs. While the carcass
scorches fromfragrant dry limbs with gumnuts collected nearby and the adrenalin is built for the adapted footy-
instead-of-chatter-match, the willy-willy makes its way funnelling the smokes, quite poetically blokes, thinks the
womensecretly, emuwinks obliquely. Itis a nomurbic thing, this willy-willy, outofits dust and smokes appear
some minimal architecture landscape – some half-western-height ironbark bench seats and not much else in this
part, the refreshment of tapped water gurgling yabbied into a little lake glistening when the wind settles more
polished than any urban industrial gloss even as it flows over and between the stones of a formed creek it runs
agurgle asmile in its way to the level landwhere the road is moved overheadand a little billabong it forms astill
agloss reflections oflocal eucs, casuarinas and a parliament constructionpiece. The footy ‘oval’ a tad inclined and
distortedis nomurbic for all thoughtit greatand fit for the cultural shared interface ofsuchvastdifference insome
regards; in the end we all are winners, that’s why we call us mates. The spirit that arose was one of many local
peoples inthe fertile groundofdismantled imperialism and pompous whole oflandbig nation. The nations are all
asmall and abright of locally weathered characters. The roo asizzling asmoking is on a million four barbies and
camps amalgamating quite a few hundred local shires; all unitednbn (looking to the vast chinaspace net) withand
slick mechtechtravel legacy ofthe imperial age coordinatedby alotoffriendly bickering acrossthe council’s shire
– notquite the pommy shire-bicker for fear ofaspear inthe leg. Youmay recall this … waita minnie! … ah! … from
a few pages ahead, “…dwellingendlesslyinlocales ofcharacter witharchitectures as friendlyas shells, accessed
by paths and roads as gentle as pademelon trails and as pungent as kookaburra kookas. Built interiors as
delightful as abalone shell interior existing onlywhere theycanbe infair place-loving reason, ladenmother-of-
pearl wealthinvisual creative delights equallyoozingmusic andloudest ofall wonders oflover, mother, father,
children, tribal, family, parliamentary vocal merging indoors with out.” As agreed by the local reps on the
federated council for ‘national’ developments: We’re left nakedof missiles to invasionagainby choice ofthe true
love; just wasn’t worth it as we all came to see. True to the holy synchronisation, the willy-willy came down in
Auscopiaas the New Jerusalem, more dramatic a lot, came downto its home locale,where bloodalot spilled had
been. All afalling together in the almighty cosmic logic as it turns to compost the sludge of the bugs of the earth.
The palantino willy-willy is lifted and the written old present is returned.
I thinksome needtoreviewthe ideaof whatisprimitive andthatmechtechisnotmandatoryforgood
life.Some knowperpetuallymodern nature, whichisnotsubjecttoobsolescence,pollutionsandthe
trap of interior.One can’tmanage papers,screensandkeyboardsinthe windedsun.Mobilityand
ultravioletare greatantiseptics.Huntingbeatssupermarketaisles.Theirlegsare theirfrontdoor,
campfiresthe bushtelevision,the soundsof the weathertheirsymphony,aspearinthe legtheirlaw,
natureslimitstheircontraceptive.
The mindsetcultural differencesthatdidn’tgel intoacountryparliamentpicnicare vastyetall are
terrestrials - pathetic,sublime britishbulldogaussie bankersyndrome,lousy,nearasimmoral or
rather stupidassodomy.Absolutelyfoolishstupidmind-feeblingphysical horror.Itisobvioushere
Grasshopper Day / Perpetually Modern Nature by Mont

7. that the geographicarchitecturestosuiteachmindsetwill varygreatly.Variouspeoplesdon’twalk
variouspartsof any city.Some don’twantcasinos,stupidlylarge housesandcitycentresstarvedof
the breathof the countryand neighbourintimacy.Whenwe pleadforsome countryvitalityinstreet
canyon,we plead
firstly for the great southernchildren
whohave not developed aneconomicrationale forsuchplaces,alongwithamentalitythatknowsto
getin to townand outagain,to holdthe breath andnot fearthe absence of the shysubliminalsky-
blue orgone … butmaybe fearthe absence of airpurity.Back ina day,the nativesof thisland,before
sugar,alcohol,bulletsanddisplacements, wouldhave suffered,if expectedtostayat all ina modern
citystreetcanyon.Beingawayfrom the songsof the landdrove manyto sad ends.
There oughtplacesbe and there are,
like here withthe camelscaravanseringthe Areyongasuppliesbase,smackbanggeographically
central inthe Great South‘Island’,nornoreastof uluru,well westinthe MacDonnell Rangesandafair
haul by crow fromthe Alice.
There,trucksand cars put camelsoutof supplywork;theywentonthe dole slowlyferal.The real
locals,the Pitjantjara,continuedusingcamelstotravel andconnect.Let’ssay a veterancameleer,
austroriginal zindigianCheekybuggaTalkabout,travelledoutfromthe base to capture and grow their
domesticcamel herds.Papunya,evenmore cityremote,three days’walkaway,100kmbycrow, same
distance askunanyi’sorganpipestoBathurstHarbour.
Cheekytalking, “You know Monte, not just Arabs but the comfort slickers should eat
out their heart. We’re out here in the red heart. Not speaking for the locals but
“reckonin’ they’re with me”; we don’t mind some internal combustion in the
ambience and the Levi jeans, checked shirts and hats that come with it; but do we
want a five star wind-water-solar powered litter spitter with ovens, verandas,
helipad, airstrip, electronic music and some of our fundamental needs? Nah … ah
well maybe, if it’s limited in size outa respect for red and the stars, yeah that’d be
great. We nomadic types don’t mind bumping shoulders with the air -travelled
hypertech urban people if they don’t mind bumping with us by throwin’ this goanna
straight on yr kitchmod charcoals there. We can call it the nomurbunya; it’s in our
place, you build it - ta! If you want to dig into the cool of the big hill where it’s
unseen too, you can make it big enough for us to wander into the town square with
our camels to trade and talk, stay if want and move on … yeah that’d be nice. Only
one though, no more. We’ve got 600 centuries under our belt, so they say, as a
continuous cultural thang yknow; I tell y but, there’s likely none alive anywhere in
the world who don’t have rellies that far back. The silly boatie pollies even so are
Photo: Google2018, Landsat Copernicus.Aprx 150km altitude. Grayscaleversionof
some‘’redcentre”;mighthavethoughtitaclose-upofsomebarkoracroc’seyebrow..
Seetherivers.Areyongaisdownthereay!…Free-fallingareyou?

8. pretty silly like ingrown toenails … from shoes; they say that we’re ‘ in the Regions’
here; that’s their synthetically trapped sense of demographic geography. Maate,
this is the heart of the life here, not the bitumen nourished boxes and airterminal
cattleruns that they live in ... bouncy bouncy all go bizzie trip, holiday, tour
package, rubber-neck photo ops, sabbatical, pilgrimage out we go back we come,
ego sustained, hankering for the next run. Do you get my drift; they are saying that
they are not in a Region themselves and that they’re all over everything anyway …
of course they’re in a region, it’s the country there nude under their cadastral giant
3D printout in concrete and tar ink and they are blind to it; they don’t even
manifest understanding that the architect design o’ parliament has the spirit of the
broader countryside intently retained and enhanced above their low little ceilings.
That shows how cut-off they are bro’, bring ‘em out we’ll tell them and show them,
then they’ll grow their constructions ecopically (that’s a word you taught me monte
- found it in the dictionary in back of this book ). Our life and country is well
sustained; the comfort slickers make good movies but they’re going down man,
down - by their own leaderships and politics. “
How dowe lookviasea,to othernationsnz,anglo,kiwi,coconut,ching,nip,indo,sri lankin, canada,
comingincoastal byboat, seeingourneighbourlandsonthe wayand choosingtheirbitof terra
australistocome ashore,orby internetsearch,how dowe look - gdaymate,nice choice bitof realty
and easypickins,we’re movinginstealth - we love youbutyou’re apack of clowns.Maybe not as raw
as that but our locale andnational culturesare have changedradicallybyimmigration,economic
coercion,commercial identifications,mismanagedmicrochiptechnological options,especiallyselling
our potatopatch and importingitall back… mus’be some sort of moneypowercabal.Nothingleftbut
to sell ourverycountryside and/ortoworkfor new landlords. Andreallydoesthatall matter…. S’only
the bug of the worldthatwe needthe bighelpto rid.
Sorry forthat rant package courtesyof Cheekybugga.Bitirrational largelyapolitical poetical;I’m
lookingtofuture options.Keypointiswe’re all inaninteractivestoryof ourown.The state of carousal
isoftenour communal glue andour distractionanddeviance thatleadstoourawkwardsometimes
agonisingembarrassmentsandteeteringonthe edge unsustainable andstifling. Asthe eoniccenturial
sojournsroll,where are we goingorwhat of our conditionsall. Huge impactsfromglobal cultures,
huge impactson our individual gospelicinteractive stories.Thatwrittenorinvitedordevelopedinany
reader’sheart,forsurvival notonlybutalsopeakingeternal momentaryinteractive joy,asIsaid
characterisedbythe painof unstoppable groundrollingbodycurlingbellylaughs the likeof memories
of manyothernine yearolds - exceptinstreetcanyon.If onlyall foodwasas healthyasthat; not
breadalone saysthe bread of life unleavenedandnotevenvegesmited.Knockknockheartof uluru,
kunanyington,of everyhouse,town,city,locale,businessdeal,cultural creation;we know you’re
there raw-underthe bitumenfootpathandthe white demarkedcarpark,the blinkersof hopeless
ceremoniesandwelfare excuse forapologyandcharity.Come outand shake yourfistnot at a foreign
neighbour,visitororpollie butatthe enemyof pure vitalityof individual communallivesandpeople
old,young,quietrowdytall shortsmoothdowdy.
My childhoodvision: shakeitall withthe one simple logicthatfitsall mindsandsouls,nounsettled
disputesall,interlockinflightharmonyinaccordwithpersonal passions,predilectionsandtalentsall
insync.
Great southernbush-embracingarchitect,wildernessisrobustbutstill ourpoisonsspread,peopleare
locale mindedeasilyblinkeredbywirespolessignswalls.Heartsknow while,mindsrebel,thatthe
islandedbroadscale andmyriadzoom-instofractalianendemicsinfragrance profoundlymatter;
colour,sounds,vegetationsandcreatures.The joysof greattravelswithinand,shiningthisbackto

9. that page past, nowdwellingendlesslyinlocalesof characterwitharchitecturesasfriendlyasshells,
accessedbypaths androads as gentle aspademelontrailsandaspungentaskookaburrakookas.Built
interiorsas delightful asabalone shell interiorexistingonlywhere theycanbe infairplace-loving
reason,ladenmother-of-pearl wealthinvisualcreativedelightsequallyoozingmusicandloudestof all
wondersof lover,mother,father,children,tribal,family, parliamentaryvocal mergingindoorswith
out.
Thisword 'ecopical'isbasicallyaboutthatbut includesthe aspect
of social personality - aspeople,we dobestwhatpeople
understand,love andare correctlyprone todo – andso politicsis
part of ecopicalityalso –we cop the truth of our failings.
Ecopicalityisnotyetin our consensusdictionaries,butitsimprints
are inour framesof mindwhenwe developourpublicrealms,
grids,officesandfactoriesourenhancednationalcharacterof
place.
They say as hunting gatherers (ie old-hat anglo-boaties) we have
enjoyed lifestyle, health,lightwork,man-womanharmony,leisure
and freedom from government and using traditional,
nonindustrial, energy resource efficient building. The book, ‘The
Biggest Estate on Earth’, shows complex systems of Aboriginal land
managementusingfire (wellthey use the word ‘complex’ I reckonto counter the
idea of primitivity). It seems to be relating to the wider north eastern
country in the now naked-under, rather than the wholistic
everywhere thatcoppedthe boatie rash.Distinctivelytherewas a
burnless sometimes kinder country interface likely followed by
most Abs across the big island. The first euroboaties noted
frequentlythatthe northeastlandevokedpark-likeanglocountry
‘estate’ - paths,extensive grassy patches, open woodlands, abundant wildlife. The people managed
the land supremely systematically locally sustainably. The anglo-boaties 200 years later still hadn’t
noticed the daisies’ fullness, nude-under their caroused backsides.
Boxlocustsswarmournational estate;more thananythingdoes. Throughtheirbirthandcatylistics,
theyabsorband transformfar beyondtheirlocal geography. Gurglingthe earth,stampingthe psyche
and spawningnewthings.
CheekybuggerTalkaboutmeetsnexuswiththe boaties. Nomadminima,boulevardbold. Albert
Geogalongisof the same land,buta of a people whogenerallyhave seenonlysimple thoroughly
modernnature – no boulevardsandnopark-like ‘estates’.Hunting,manipulatingandgatheringin
sparse central countryinvolvedalotof walking. Theyvalue astrongpair of legsoverand above any
frontdoor, or gush-ladencable carview-window. Theirvalue of home andsociety,physical trappings
scant, isveryrich withoutbrickveneer. Headingfromhome Sydney,where he artfullyenjoysshort
sojournsof cross-cultural jibesanddance asto whatthe boatiesare missing,including,the boxlocust
and the academicprotagonistsof ecopianactivity,Talkaboutthrowsoff hisshirtwrapbefore reaching
hissimple house bypreference withhisfamilyandhiseasternbio-geodiversitysimplyhis‘country’
abundance.
Childof the global West,nomadicurbanaltruistLow Carl forewentpenthouselife forcitytumble-
weedingbecausehe feltthe roomshummingharder. We note thata joyful walkinnature is
Afrienddropsby,
youhavenoashtray.
DETAIL: Nomadin
EveryRoom, byMont
Detailof‘The Big Nothing’
Mont painting.

10. definitivelyimpactedwhere boxlocustsblendwiththisworld. We note thata joyful walkinnature is
definitivelyimpactedwhere boxlocustsblendwiththisworld. We note that a joyful …
Justlike we findroom-kernelsinthe bushCheekyfindsbush-kernelsinthe urbiaincludinginhouses.
A Redfernzindigianmind warp…a plastictoiletbrushdraggingonthe spear,a halfwaynomadstill
makeshisshotat the pizza-lizardscurryingacrosshispathhence as intendeditwastakentothe 40th
floorreceptionforexecutivelunch. Forgreens,he reachesforthe supermarkettuckedunderhisbelt.
On the shelf he findsanarchitect’shouse blueprint;“Inthe trade we call this‘the comic’!”,smirkshis
builder. Tumbleweedsroll,rootsanchor,cityantennae dissolverootsandmake shuttle androoms,
rather thanstrides, inspace. The house seesbothintraand cross-cultural smirk.
We have nanotechsurveillance,robotics,medical.We have the christianbasisbeingscoffedand
dismantledoutof ourconstitutionandpoliticalcorrectness,childrenempoweredbysociotech and
newlysearchingtoreplace whatisscoffed.We have tribulatingwiththatandthe tributaryof
microplasticatedfishwe eat,atribulationcurrentlyflowingtowardanexpandingseaof extreme
discomfortandagonieswithwingsof extincteagles.Tomanyall thisremainsinvisibleunderaseaof
seemingcarousedjoygodsandsomas.
What we lose isnot onlythe naked-undertapestrybutthe whole wildernessoutbackcountryside vibe
watersky florafaunaand air;whenwe hermeticallyseal ourselvesorour people intoboxesoreven
eggshapes,ie a little lesshermetically,evenwithwindows,courtyards,DavidRabbitbourough(sorry
Steve Irwinismore ours)(nowthere’sapommy-aussie shift),indoorplantsandclearroadto the bush.
Our anticipatedgreat southerngeographicarchitects’cultural heritage conservationplansshouldbe
applicable inprinciple toall all all of ourdevelopments - minesroadsdamstowerspizzashops
mcmansions.The professional plannersacceptthisideaandenforce it… a little.The same crew refuse
to understandthatthe daisywe siton is comparablyandmore significantandultimatelysupremely
significantovercultural heritage …“evenaboheritage monte”(steadyupCheekydon’tgetcocky).
Our conservationplansexist - toinformourdevelopment
limitsandcharacter; we desperatelyneedtomake them
as ‘Natural (natural natural) andCultural ConservationPlans’andthese tooshouldbe informed
nomurbicallyintoourbuildingscience regulations,asfreshairandidentityof place andat the
household andworkplace door-steps–wilderness.Itisthe primolife thatCheekyknowsisgoodfor
hischildrenandthe childinhim+ the zap of mechtechand cityculture.Avarice ignorance social
disease iswhatblocksit.Please read thataloudthree (3) times…
on the bus,
on topof uluru,kunanyington,…
or justquietlytoyourself orwhisperitintopreshus’sear.