Chinese in a Cave, Hideous Architecture and One Nation Party in Ipswich

[Ipswich, 6/14/24]

Of Ipswich, England I have two memories. One was nearly stepping off a corner radius onto the path a black, hearselike English taxi. The other was finding in a quaint museum John Clare’s snuff box. His “I Am!” is a naked classic in self-pity or, if you will, existential worthlessness.

Second stanza, “Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, / Into the living sea of waking dreams, / Where there is neither sense of life or joys, / But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems; / Even the dearest that I loved the best / Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.”

I only heard of Ipswich, Queensland a few days ago. Its location at the end of a rail line made it an attractive destination, then I discovered Cocky Jerry Jar, a cave dwelling Chinese immigrant.

“Red Gum” in the Queensland Times of 3/14/1924, “[Cocky Jerry Jar] had been engaged on stations over the Range and saved money to the amount of £200. Then came an alleged love story. A good looking young man, dressed up to represent a woman, after a period of courting, induced Jerry-Jar to part with his hard earnings. Jerry-Jar, finding out he had been duped, went almost mad, and coming to Ipswich—where there were in those days, quite a number of Chinese residents—he took up his abode in the cave.  He made a living by cutting small bundles of wood and selling them to residents. He did other odd jobs, which enabled him to eke out an existence.”

Making 20 stops, it took an hour to travel 25 miles from Fortitude Valley Station. On Queensland trains, there are frequent reminders to behave, as shown on monitors and announced. “Don’t risk a slip, trip or fall. Always hold on or find a seat and sit tight for the duration of your journey.” “Stay safe! Only enter and exit the station at designated access points and always use the pedestrian crossing.” “Feet off seats. Enjoy your ride, but please keep your feet off the seats. Fines apply.” There are more.

In a press release, a rail spokeswoman addresses one problem, “While a rap tune might be one way to wind down, it’s not a banger for everyone.” As for the quiet cars, they “are very popular for those wanting to relax, scroll mindlessly on their phones or perhaps read a book during their journey.” Phones, then, are to shut your mind off! Sharp woman.

Before each stop, there is a wordy instruction. Instead of just announcing, “Toowong Station next,” it goes, “The next stop is Toowong Station. If this is your station, prepare to disembark.” This excess reminds me of a sign I saw in Manchester, England in 2008:

“I’m here to help you…”

[face of a bruised female train conductor]

It’s just wrong isn’t it? We agree. At Network Rail we believe abusive behaviour towards our staff is unacceptable and we will push for the strongest penalties.

If you see anyone assaulting our staff or passengers, call 0800 40 50 40 to report it.

Singapore also has paternal or patronizing signs everywhere. Citizens are conditioned into thinking their government cares about the least aspect of their wellbeing, from crossing the street to being “vaccinated.” It can be fatal to not realize government is not synonymous with nation.

With so much space, urban neighborhoods here are called suburbs. As with my trip to the Gold Coast, 50 miles away, there was not much to see besides trees, grass and a few parking lots. Leaving the station, I crossed the street to enter Tulmur Walk. The first restaurant I saw was the Vietnamese Bun Bun Bao! Seconds later, I passed an ad for Gelatissimo, “Flavours From Around The World—Italian Limoncello, Vietnamese Coffee, American Jam Donut.” Then came Sofia, a Vietnamese nail salon. A woman with Aboriginal blood, hennai tattoo and hair dyed red was getting her nails filed. Though banh mi and pho have become common fare among Aussies of all classes, I didn’t expect to immediately encounter so much of Vietnam in Ipswich.

To Local Ipswich News, Bun Bun Bao’s owner relates, “Since I was born and bred in Queensland, I have grown up eating Vegemite with salt and vinegar chip sandwiches, sausage sizzles and an array of Vietnamese food, all on the same table in one sitting.” Many of her dishes, then, are fusion.

Though settled after Redcliffe and Brisbane in Queensland, Ipswich is old enough. It’s founded in 1827. Though I didn’t expect to find Lavenham here, I was still surprised to find its architecture so hideous. Rare gems are surrounded by shamelessly insulting modern buildings. The handsome Soldiers’ Memorial Hall from 1921 faces the absurd Civic Center, a hulking origami. Date palms can’t hide its ugliness. The Brutalist old courthouse has a cutesy retro bus stop as lipstick. You wouldn’t know any of this from Wikipedia, “[Ipswich] is renowned for its architectural, natural and cultural heritage.” There’s no substitution for walking around.

I passed Pennywise—the people’s pawn broker. It had used lawnmowers for sale and an offer to buy your jewelry. If you need cash to eat, grass can grow wild and to hell with heirloom. I noticed three employment services and a foster care agency. “Life without barriers—share your world,” if just for an afternoon. Jobs and fathers are getting harder to find. They long gone, baby mamas. Subsidized by the state, mental health counselors multiply. One crimson haired lass with one arm fully tatted offered, “We can help with Anxiety, Depression, ASD/ADHD, Parenting support, Grief & Loss, Trauma, Family conflict, Relationship breakdowns.” She knows where you’re coming from.

Government pushed vaccines enriching Big Pharma cause autism spectrum disorder, while TV, video games and cellphone ensure your kid will have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, but don’t worry, there’s a half bonkers psycho major with a pierced nose, tongue or genitals near you who can help.

Vitalhub—THE VITAL WAY promised to “BUILD COURAGE, SUSTAIN RESILIENCE, REDUCE STRESS,” perhaps by slogans alone. On its plateglass was a life sized cartoon man who’s blindfolded.

I noticed two homeless sleeping spots. At one, this was scrawled on a smudgy wall, “You live for your mother / You live for your family / You die 4 your gang.” I passed slovenly men with unkempt hair and nothing to do. Coke, meth and ketamine are popular here.

Ipswich’s unfolding has many familiar components. Its industries are gone. A century ago, Ipswich had coal and limestone mines, lumber and woolen mills, and workshops for building and repairing locomotives. Instead of locals going to Brisbane for work, Brisbaners came here.

In 1987, a downtown shopping mall didn’t just kill mom and pops, it razed historical buildings. There’s a YouTube video, A Culture of Destruction—Kern’s legacy in Ipswich, with before and after photos. Kern was the mall’s developer. Three typical comments:

scrappysally1—So sad to watch—a disgrace that so much history and family legacy/businesses have been lost forever. Those corrupt politicians should be ashamed of themselves!

shagster1970—I went to Ipswich Grammar School in the late 80’s. We use to walk to the train the long way round just so we could walk through the city and admire the place and businesses. I just jumped onto Google maps and had a look and what an eyesore. The charm has definitely gone. Town planning at its worst.

MSMW23—Spent my teen years in Ipswich in the early 80’s before moving to Sydney. Went back a few weeks ago and oh my, what a sad, depressing city it’s become. You can feel the soul has departed the old town and the corpse is all that remains. I doubt Ipswich can ever be turned around again.

The Ipswich Shopping Mall was wiped out by another, Riverlink, in 2007. Opening across the Bremer River, it drove another stake through Ipswich’s heart.

Outside Queensland, people are likely to link Ipswich only with Senator Pauline Hanson. As a child, she worked in her parents’ fish and chip restaurant there. Later, she owned one just outside it. She also tended bar at the “progressive and forward thinking” Boovals Bowl Club. In 1997, Hanson co-founded One Nation, just a year after being booted from the Liberal Party. She opposes massive immigration on cultural and economic grounds, and affirmative action because it’s divisive and reverse racism. In 2017, Hanson wore a burqa in Senate to oppose women’s status in Islam. Hanson’s distaste for that religion has also led her to call protestors against the ongoing genocide in Gaza “useful idiots.”

One Nation, “You’ve got to hand it to the propagandists working for the terrorist group Hamas. They’ve tapped in to the essential anti-Semitism of the West’s political left and have successfully manipulated many thousands of really, REALLY stupid university students to do their bidding.” 

Returning to Brisbane, I sat across a chubby man in his 40’s who addressed just about every woman walking by. They all ignored him, of course. Quite often, a video game melody would ring out from his phone, to be followed by a female voice chirping, “Hello, moto!” This sequence occurred at least two dozen times. As he got up at Roma Street Station, his brown pants sagged enough to reveal his butt crack.

I have just over a week left in Oz. When my Vietnam visa is approved, I’ll buy a ticket back to Saigon. Pauline Hanson railed against “the Asianisation of Australia,” so she’s probably not a fan of Bun Bun Bao. Many in Ipswich, though, have been converted. Sandy D, “I’m so excited for the amazing cuisine we are getting to experience here in Ipswich! […] Keep up the great work for our community.”

Short of buyers for his bundles, did Cocky Jerry Jar club koalas, wallabies or ibises? Caveman skills will come in handy when there are no more Bun Bun Baos.

[Ipswich, 6/14/24]

[Ipswich, 6/14/24]

[Ipswich, 6/4/24]

[Ipswich, 6/14/24]