Lev Lafayette's journal

The Invasion Day long weekend (really, just change the date and adopt something less gross for the national holiday) featured three events of note in my life. The first included a short-notice visit from Adam and Lara from Darwin; we went to Balloon Story, which had some amusing moments, but really was something for the kids. It was nevertheless marvellous to catch up, albeit for a shorter time than usual, and I am sure there will be a next time. Afterwards, I ventured out to the Thornbuy Bowls Club, where my friend of almost forty years, Simon S., was celebrating his birthday party. With a collection of over a score of migrant friends from Perth, the cycling and motorcycle community, and various nerdish characters of various stripes (which much crossover), Simon's plan to hold a relatively low-key gathering was stymied by his friendship circle, who came out in spades.

The following day was my own gathering of the same sort (and yes, it included several people from the day before), with the additional theme of South America and Latin America from the recent trip. With over 30 people visiting my apartment throughout the day, I provided a wide variety of dishes from the different countries I visited (plus a couple from Ecuador, which I did not), various favourite beverages, and music. All along with a slideshow of photos from the trip. I actually didn't end up making everything, but have endeavoured to do so in the following days because, as usual, I overcatered. Blessed with an incredible variety of often brilliant friends, the gathering was really quite lively, and I am rather overwhelmed by the support and enthusiasm that everyone contributed to the day. Photos will be forthcoming, but for now, "Lev's Solar Orbit, South America and Antarctica Voyage" included the following food, drinks, and music:

Los Platos
- Fainá (Uruguay): Chickpea flatbread with parmesan and mixed herbs
- Aji Amarillo Salsa (Peru): Yellow capsicum with milk, vinegar, lime juice, jalapeño, mustard, garlic
- Llapingachos (Ecuador): Potato cake, cheese and spring onion
- Salsa de maní (Ecuador): Peanuts, milk, onion, cumin, coriander, red chilli
- Torrejas De Espinaca (Peru): Fried tortillas with spinach, spring onion
- Ensalada Negra Inca (Peru): Apichu (golden sweet potato), avocado, black beans, quinoa, and chard (silverbeet)
- Salsa Criolla (Argentina): Capsicum with tomato, onion, garlic
- Pastel de choclo con carne (Chile): Maize with beef, tomato, onion, milk, basil, paprika
- Pastel de choclo sin carne (Chile): Maize with soy TVP, tomato, onion, milk, basil, paprika
- Ceviche (Peru): Ocean fish with red onions, tomato, cucumber, capsicum, lime, coriander, jalapeño
- Empanadas (Argentina): Pastry with gorgonzola cheese and puerro (leek)
- Tortillas fritas con Dulce de Leche (Uruguay): Tortillas, ice cream, milk, sugar, cream, chocolate

Las bebidas
- Café de Galeano (Uruguay): Coffee, dulce de leche, cream, amaretto
- Caipiroska (Uruguay): Vodka, lime, sugar
- Piscola Eléctrica (Chile): Brandy and Pepsi blue
- Pisco Sour (Peru): Brandy, lime juice, egg white, sugar, bitters
- Terremoto (Chile): Pineapple ice cream, red wine, pomegranate juice
- Tierra del Fuego (Argentina): Tequila, Campari, spiced vodka

La Musica
- Jorge Morel (Argentine classical guitar)
- Astor Piazzolla (Argentine founder of nuevo tango)
- Los Prisioneros (Chilean post-punk)
- Los Buenos Muchachos (Uruguayan alt-rock)
- Dengue Dengue Dengue (Peruvian electronic-industrial)
- Föllakzoid (Chilean electronica)
- Vangelis, Antarctica movie soundtrack

Every year since 2008, I've taken the opportunity to write about my annual reflections and future plans. The plans really come to fruition as they are more motivational than realistic, but if I get more than half of what I seek to achieve done, that's invariably a good year. Usually, I manage these reflections in the last week of December or the first week of January, but of course, when you're gazing over Antarctica, the sublime beauty of nature gives reason to delay. But now I have left that grandeur and the lively cities of Latin America to return to the relative calmness of Melbourne with my work and study.

The past year wasn't nearly as busy as the previous, but there was still a great deal of activity and progression. I paid off my apartment in Southbank, which hosted four major themed parties, continuing proof that my apartment can hold more than a score of people. I travelled to the Northern Territory, New Zealand, China (twice), Chile, Lima, Argentina, Antarctica, and especially the South Atlantic. From these journeys, I can mark visiting The Great Wall, The Forbidden City, the Nanjing Memorial, Machu Picchu, and, of course, Antarctica as major locations. And I must mention that my health continued a turn for the better with almost 35kg being shed between June 2024 and June 2025 as I have revived a long-dormant athleticism.

In academic life, I completed three units in my doctorate studies at Euclid University, each with A-grade results (I'm a swot), along with two online courses from the University of Edinburgh (music theory) and the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile (Spanish), hosted a Murdoch University alumni event and, for what it's worth, was in the top 0.1% of users on Duolingo for the third year in succession, completing the Spanish language course. In other writings, there were eight articles for Rocknerd, six for Isocracy, and another 15 on other sites.

I gave two conference presentations in New Zealand, as well as brief presentations and panel participation in Australia and China, along with an extensive philosophy presentation on Daoism and Stoicism, which resulted in some permanent ink being etched into my skin. Unexpectedly, I also delivered a Christmas service. At work, I delivered 15 HPC training workshops, organising three researcher technical presentations, in addition to usual technical and managerial tasks. Plus, I've been running three non-profit incorporated associations. Through the ACFS, I hosted and organised at least four events, wrote a dozen articles, attended ten concerts, events, and received delegations. Perhaps one of the most important actions of the year, however, was fundraising for the Isla Bell Charitable Fund through the RPG Review Cooperative; over $15K, mostly through the sales of my personal collection.

Despite all this, there are a lot of things I didn't get done in 2025 that I initially planned to do. These remain on a "to-do" list and will make up the bulk of activity in the initial months of this year. I know I want to travel more, and I have already made plans for my next adventure. I certainly have to continue my current doctoral studies in climatology, economics, and international law, as it remains a great priority in my life. However, I will admit that beyond this, I have yet to build firm plans for the year. Perhaps over the next few weeks, this will coalesce into something more definite. However, as I expressed on the morning of the year, I do have a theme: Do what matters. Live deliberately. Act despite fears. Don't postpone. Memento mori.

Following two days at sea, the next step of the voyage was the Falkland Islands. This collection of islands comprises over 12,000km^2 (by comparison, Melbourne is approximately 2,500 km²) with a total population of about 3,500 (by comparison, Melbourne has approximately 5,300,000), nearly all of which reside in the settlement of Stanley. On a per capita basis, the islanders are quite well off, and to describe them as "quite British and a bit conservative" would be something of an understatement. Despite the small population, it does have an excellent museum. With few people and a rugged territory, wildlife is abundant, especially in the form of birds and sea mammals, and is quite notable. Penguins are, of course, a primary attraction, and a visit to nearby Yorke Bay provided the opportunity to encounter King, Gentoo penguins, and Magallanic penguins. The only land mammal that existed on the Falklands, the Falkland Islands wolf or warrah was hunted and poisoned to extinction by shepherds in the 19th century.

No discussion of the Falklands (or Islas Malvinas) can occur without discussion of ownership, especially in the wake of the 1982 war. To put the situation in a nutshell, the islands remained uninhabited until the French established a colony in 1764. The following year, the British established a settlement, but it is questionable whether they were aware of one another. The following year, the French surrendered their claim to Spain. A few years later, the British withdrew from the islands, and by the time of the Napoleonic Wars, the Spanish abandoned their colony and garrison, leaving behind gauchos and fishermen. Later, a German-born Frenchman of Argentine citizenship established an Argentine colony, but the United States turned up with a warship in 1831 and dissolved that government. The following year, the British returned and reasserted their rule. The British have remained ever since, and the Argentinians continue to vigorously assert their claims. At the time of the war, I recall a young girl phoning talk-back radio and saying: "There are two big islands - why don't they have one each?" Such a sharing arrangement, as charming and persuasive as it might be, is challenged by the assertion of right through violence.

Leaving the Falklands meant another two days at sea before landing at Montevideo. This is an opportunity to describe the exceptional culinary experience offered by the cruise. Every day, with breakfast merging into lunch and then dinner, there is a plentiful and diverse buffet of excellent quality, which varies in theme each day (the Christmas Day French lunch was quite an experience). For those who prefer a serviced dinner, several restaurants are also available onboard. If you pay a little extra, you can access even more restaurants of an even higher standard. Coupled with the grand hotel breakfasts of the pre-cruise weeks, I am quite prepared to say that I have never eaten so well for such an extended period of time, and, despite a wonderful gymnasium that overlooks the bow of the ship, I rather suspect I have put on more than a few kilos in the past month. Still, as a once-in-a-lifetime voyage (of which I have at least one or two per year) I have very few regrets with experiencing this culinary indulgence.

Leaving the fine city of Buenos Aires, we embarked upon the Sapphire Princess to head to Antarctica. It's an impressive vessel, over 300m in length, over 60m in height, weighing 115K tonnes, and carrying 3.5K crew and passengers. I confess that in the past I have looked down on cruise ships, considering them to be places of vacuous culture whose greatest good is the opportunity to hide away and write a novel. Neither of those positions is incorrect; the place is full of bars and gaudy nightclubs, with multiple light jazz bands playing in various nooks, and with incessant piping of the worst of Christmas songs. But my assessment was also quite incomplete. Being the type of cruise this is, the rather impressive theatrical hall is also home to high-quality, accessible, and entertaining lectures, given multiple times a day by geologists, naturalists, and historians, concerning the Antarctic. The same location also hosts evening performances by singers, musicians, and comedy shows, among others. The most impressive was an Argentine tango dance that cleverly melded the history and representation of the dance into its performance.

Due to a curious turn of events, I ended up presenting at the theatre itself on Christmas Day; the ship required someone to conduct an interdenominational service, and, with a bit of a background in such things, I offered my time. A pre-designed service had already been written; however, I was given the opportunity to add a brief introduction, introduce the readings (carried out by other volunteers), and provide a brief address. I took the opportunity to emphasise the importance of remembering how fortunate everyone present was to be on such a voyage, with the time, money, and health, and how everyone must not forget those who did not have this opportunity. I concluded with a reading from James 2: 14-18, which speaks of the need to feed and clothe all as a priority; "Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds". The message seemed to strike a chord; I am guessing that a number of the congregation have more than a sense of unease and self-awareness to be so privileged on such a journey. I will take this opportunity to, once again, recommend my preferred charity (life-years saved per dollar spent), Effective Altruism.

After Christmas, the ship ventured into Patagonian Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost permanently inhabited region on Earth, a wild place of channels, mountains, a plentiful supply of wind and rain, and an abundance of natural beauty. Our first port was Chilean Punta Arenas in the Straits of Magellan, where we were able to tender for a day ashore. It was a town with some charm, including the Sara Braun cemetery that held the remains of not only author Charles Amherst Milward but also the University of Melbourne's Walter Baldwin Spencer. There was a moment of greater excitement when there was a sudden change of weather on the return tender in the late afternoon, with winds reaching over 100kmh, which was interesting if you were on the top deck of a little lifeboat, as we were. The following day, travelling through the Beagle Channel, we reached Argentinia's Ushuaia, the southernmost city of the world, "fin del mundo", a fairly rough-and-ready place, but also surrounded by astounding glaciers and subpolar forests. The next step is the Drake Passage, notoriously known for the roughest seas in the world, and then Antarctica itself.

With Cusco continuing to serve as a home base, a journey to Machu Picchu is definitely necessary. The best and quickest journey there, at least for those who don't have time to undertake the four-day hike along the "Inca trail”, is via train between Cusco and the appropriately-named nearby town of Aguas Calientes. The old train meanders slowly, wobbles often on the thin gauge, and breakdowns are common, as we discovered on the return journey. Nevertheless, the views are quite spectacular, aided by a glass roof. At Aguas Calientes, we checked into the pleasant and stylish Hatun Inti hotel and prepared ourselves for an early morning shuttle bus to Machu Picchu. This is, without doubt, the best to time to go. Not only does it avoid the increasing number of tourists that make this journey, but it is also an appropriate time to give recognition to Inti, the sun god and chief god of the Incas.

Machu Picchu itself is quite an extraordinary complex of buildings with characteristic dry-stone, and is rightly considered on modern lists as a "Wonder of the World", and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Located on an Andean mountain ridge at a height of roughly 2,5K metres, it was probably an emperor's estate, with an average population of around 750, with goods and services coming in from all directions supplementing agriculture "andenes" (constructed terraces). At the time of the Spanish conquest, the site was abandoned, and knowledge of its existence remained lost to the outside world (locals knew of it, of course) for centuries until the rediscovery in the early 20th century by Peruvian explorer Agustín Lizárraga. For myself, I have had a quiet fascination and interest in Machu Picchu specifically and pre-Columbian civilisations of the Americas more generally; the Pueblo, the Iroquois, the Olmec, the Teotihuacan, the Mayans, the Toltecs, the Cañari, the Aztecs, the Incas and many more. This is certainly something I share with my good friend Justin A., whom I visited before leaving Melbourne and with whom I discussed his far more extensive and in-depth journeys from some decades in the past.

I feel like writing more extensively about the Incas now, having some direct experience and extensive conversations with our Quechua guide. However one matter I wish to address the notion of the Inca Empire as being "mysterious" which, of course, leads to all sorts of wild speculations. What we do know is that they were an early Bronze Age civilisation that was the largest in South America. They did not have a fully-developed writing system, but used quipu a sort of rope-based tally system which allowed for complex calculations. They had advanced drywall masonry, extensive agricultural systems, including freeze-drying. They had no currency but used barter and corvée labour for taxes. They did not develop the wheel, but used rollers and stones when required. Their emperor was seen as semi-divine, "the son of the Sun god," and they had a hierarchical and polytheistic religion. They practised trepanation, cranial deformation, and child sacrifice. In summary, they were not so mysterious, but as a result of their geography, they developed a unique society that has a lasting interest.

The next leg of this tour was Lima, capital of Peru, and named after the pre-Incan civilisation that inhabited the place from 100 to 650CE. A desert and coastal city of some 11 million people, it is understandably the political, financial, and historical centre of the country, but is also notable for its urban segregation between wealthy barrios and poor suburbs. We ended up at the Hotel Jose Antonio Lima in the Miraflores District, which certainly sits in the former category, bustling with commercial energy and entertainment, whilst also relaxed with plenty of pleasant coastal parklands. Two particular locations in Miraflores are especially worth mentioning. One is the Park Kennedy, named after JFK, which is better known as "Cat Park" after the dozens of collectively-domesticated cats present, and is everything like it sounds. The other is Huaca Pucllana, an extraordinary 1500-year-old adobe pyramid and grounds designed for managing water resources and religious ceremonies. By pure chance, we also stumbled on an exhibition for two great Peruvian artists, Fernando de Szyszlo Valdemor and David Herskovitz, both broadly belonging to the neo-expressionist school. I especially liked the former's representations from "Don Quixote de la Mancha".

Another significant cultural area of Lima is, of course, the "Centro Historico de Lima", a UNESCO World Heritage site and for good reason. Here is a very fine collection of colonial and Republican-era buildings from the Plaza de Armas and surrounds, including the Government Palace, the Cathedral of Lima, the Archbishop’s Palace of Lima, the Municipal Palace and the Palace of the Union. A visit to the "Museo Convento San Francisco y Catacumbas" was absolutely necessary. Dating from the 17th century, it includes the remains of some 70,000 people. There is also the El Convento de Santo Domingo, which has a very impressive old library. Nearby is the "Basílica Catedral de Lima", which houses the tomb of the conquistador Francisco Pizarro, who conquered Peru for the crown of Castille (awkwardly, the church proclaimed the wrong body as Pizarro's until the real one was discovered in 1977). With superior technology, he led an ambush at the the Battle of Cajamarca where less than 200 Spaniards defeated and massacred several thousand Incan imperial guards and thousands of attendants. The military acumen is impressive, utter lust for blood and treasure despicable. Appropriately, the next stop in the journey is Cuzco, the ancient capital of the Incan Empire.

Last night I hosted the annual Murdoch University Alumni meeting for Melbourne at the Arts Centre with plenty of excellent and intelligent conversation, as would be expected at such an event (well-catered too, I must add). As part of the formal proceedings, we held a panel discussion on what Murdoch University meant and how it changed us. Our panel, quite remarkably, had graduates from every decade of the university's existence, including a foundation student, Dr. Trevor Hogan, and the remarkable story from Lem Bagout, who came to Australia as a refugee from Sudan; he now teaches physics.

For my own part (representing the 1990s graduates), I made the point that the radical parts of Murdoch's original educational objectives ("the Murdoch ethos") are now accepted and mainstream: encouraging mature-aged students and lifelong learning, allowing for part-time and external studies, encouraging interdisciplinary studies, and alternative entry based on experience. I also made a point of mentioning Bruce Tapper, who died a year ago on the day; not just because he was such a huge influence on my life, but in particular, because he was such a fierce advocate for Murdoch University's progressive education and egalitarian access.

In many ways, my alma mater sometimes stands in stark contrast with my employer, the University of Melbourne. Prestigious and conservative, the UniMelb is recognised as the top university in the country, which is really due to the excellent and well-funded research sector, standing on the shoulders of giants past. At UniMelb in the past fortnight, there have been two social occasions of note: an end-of-year potluck lunch for Research Computing Services (I brought along the Polish duck soup (Czernina), and an end-of-year social event for all of Business Services, this year held on campus at the Ernie Cropley Pavilion, a better location, and superior catering to previous years.

As another example of contrast, last Saturday I attended the Thangka Art Exhibition on Tibetan Cultural Heritage and Contemporary Development hosted by the Australian ReTeng Charity Foundation, associated with the Buddhist ReTeng Monastery in Donvale. I was somewhat surprised and impressed by the sheer number of dignitaries from the Melbourne Chinese community in attendance, and extremely impressed by the artworks on display. There was some juxtaposition of this aesthetic event, and the one attended in the evening, with Carla BL, at a little bar in Fitzroy to see a group of post-punk musicians (including my favourite local coldwave artists, Cold Regards) perform. For reasons of international travel, this is the end of EoY Melbourne activities - next stop, Santiago!

In recent days, I have been engaging in my personal Project Döstädning, literally "Death Cleaning" in Swedish. Whilst the original concept is that a person should sort out and minimise their belongings in the event of their death so others don't have to sift through everything, it does have a number of broader applications. It fits with the principle of one should keep in their possessions the things that they will use, along with mementoes of their life experience, all matching a short presentation I gave to the Melbourne Agnostics Society about five years ago, "The Continuum of Needs and Wants". Because disaster can strike at any time, it is recommended that everyone, regardless of health or age, invest in the process. In a more advanced sense, Döstädning also applies to emotional content, relationships, and ultimately is very close to the Stoic principle of "memento mori".

In the past year, I have engaged in several actions on this theme. Earlier this year, I sold off three bookcases' worth of roleplaying games and raised around $15000 for the Isla Bell Charitable Fund. I have also gifted a similar-sized collection of books, initially according to academic requirements (and with a sense of motivating concern), but more recently with a more open-ended approach, and one which will have to be revisited again (I still have thousands of books). In the past week, I've taken a similar approach with my collection of LPs and CDS. Whilst I am not a music collector or librarian, over the many years I've been a reviewer for a variety of physical and online 'zines and, as an enthusiastic attendee and listener, I have ended up with a rather large and eclectic collection, and much of it can be passed on to those who are more likely to use it. Following on from my recent Lightbringers post ("The Phenomenology of Nostalgia and Record Players"), from my collection I have earmarked over 300LPs to give away, and almost 600CDs.

Rather than provide a list of everything that's available (I haven't had the time to type that out), it would be far quicker for people to simply drop me a line about what sort of material they're interested in, and we can take the arrangements for collection from there. With the music part of Project Döstädning reaching this initial stage, the next targets on the agenda are DVDs and that curious collection of oddities that makes up my wardrobe. But with regards to music, books, etc., at my next linner-soiree planned for January, I'll be encouraging attendees to gather and take whatever interests them. After that, the rest goes to charity stores. It's all about redistributing my things to those who can best use them, all whilst preparing myself for one of the most substantial changes in my own life.

I don't think many Australians fully understand the importance of China to the ongoing economic development of both countries. Many might be aware that China is Australia's biggest trading partner, both in terms of imports and exports. As far back as 2019-2020, according to the ABS, 27% of all imports came from China and 39% of all exports went to China, and this has been increasing every year. Iron ore, coal, and education are notable exports, but following the China-Australia Free Trade Agreement (ChAFTA), agricultural produce and pharmaceuticals have also become popular. Imports have mainly consisted of telecommunications equipment and household appliances. Whilst imports themselves are likely to flatten (households can only have so many appliances, a person can only have so many mobile phones and computers), China's dedication to transforming their economy means that "green steel" is on the agenda, produced by hydrogen rather than coal furnaces, and produced here in Australia - but only if we develop the renewable energy to power such facilities. Our economic future is closely tied to China's, and there is really no alternative.

I have emphasised this point in my president's report in the October newsletter of the Australia-China Friendship Society - along with writing reviews of two recent and impressive Chinese films: "Caught by the Tides" (2024) and "Resurrection" (2025). The former I saw in Darwin a few months ago, and it weaves a long-spanning and troubled romantic story with over twenty years of footage, making it part fiction, part historical footage. The latter I saw recently at The Astor as part of the Melbourne International Film Festival, and combines several short period films with a time-travelling science fiction thread whilst referencing several other films in content and style. Further, in my role, I have recently had the opportunity to discuss matters with a number of delegations from China.

A little over a week ago, I hosted an arts and culture delegation from the Chaoyang district of Beijing and took them to the National Gallery at Federation Square to give a tour and explanation of the development of Australian art. They are very keen on following up with an exchange programme. Then, a few days ago, representatives of the Jiangsu Friendship Association and I, on behalf of the ACFS, signed a Memorandum of Understanding with great fanfare at the Chinese Museum, as a photo exhibition on Chinese modernisation in Jiangsu was being launched by the Jiangsu Federation of Literary and Art Circles and Creative Victoria. Last night, I enjoyed the company of the Quanzhou Trade Delegation at a wonderful dinner hosted by the Fujian Association of Victoria, and I gave a brief speech on behalf of the ACFS.

It's one thing to be cordial in a transactional business relationship. But, as I said in my speech last night, relations between people are more important than relations in business, and friendship is more important than contracts. Friendship with China means that both parties will engage in respect, understanding, and accepting differences. It means being honest, open, and inviting. The bellicose attitude of some Australians, including Australian politicians, towards China and the Chinese demeans our national character and, really, is quite embarrassing. Fortunately, through its seventy-five-year history, the Australia-China Friendship Society has stood for building relationships, building partnerships, and building friendships. We have our Annual General Meeting at the end of this month, 1-3 pm. Sunday 30 November 2025. Maybe some of you with a similar mind should come along.

Because I like to plan things in advance (it provides more opportunities for spontaneity), in six months' time I will be presenting at the Existentialist Society on "The Decline in French Philosophy" (April 4, 2026). There can be no doubt of my long-standing Francophile tendencies when it comes to the fine arts, cuisine, republican politics, and yes, especially French philosophy, at least from the Enlightenment to the Situationists. I admire the gentle spirit of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the grand knowledge and scope of Denis Diderot, and the courage of the entire body of "les philosophes" who took on the absolutism of the monarchy, the dead hand of the church and helped establish the modern public sphere through salon gatherings that, scandously, were hosted by women patrons, "les salonnières"!

Fast-forward to the twentieth century, and again I find myself delving deeply into the mathematics and physics of Henri Poincaré, the perceptual phenomenology of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, which would add to the hermeneutics of Paul Ricoeur. I have all the time in the world for the incredible contributions to feminism by Simone de Beauvoir and consider her a better philosopher than her companion, Jean-Paul Sartre. Both, along with Albert Camus' ontological absurdism and the incredible personal standards of Simone Weil, raised and established existentialism a powerful force in the world of philosophy, demanding the primacy of existence over essence, authenticity in behaviour and thought, and recognition to the tension between people as objects and subjects.

These were all great thinkers in hard times. But subsequent to these contributions, things started to go astray. Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze, and Félix Guattari's were all unable to incorporate their necessary criticisms of structuralism into subject disciplines. Jacques Derrida's would engage in intentional obfuscation through words with ambivalent meaning. Bruno Latour's social constructivism would end up becoming impossibly anti-scientific. Jean-François Lyotard retreated to the sublime, and Jean Baudrillard became obsessed with the interrelationship of signs and hypereality. Luce Irigaray asserted that E=mc^2 is a "sexed equation" and fluid mechanics is neglected in engineering because fluids are feminine.

It's not as if it's all bad; Foucault, Deleuze, and Guattari all highlighted abhorrent behaviours in abusive institutions. Derrida's deconstructionism is a useful method to highlight the unity of opposites. Latour does recognise the role of scientific language and practices. Lyotard and Baudrillard both hinted at what could have been a sociology of the information age, and Irigaray really does provide a political economy grounded in sexual difference. But so much of the content produced by post-WWII French philosophers is simply gibberish, ignorant, or both. This, of course, has been explored in the past as "fashionable nonsense", an evocative title by Sokal and Bricmont, who highlight the sort of gibberish that eventually led to the The Postmodern Essay generator, produced by a Melbourne-based computer scientist.

For what it's worth, I do appreciate the use of metaphors and puns; they're often not just witticisms, they can also provide some linguistic-therapeutic insight. But I do wonder whether the success of ordinary language philosophy on one hand and formal pragmatics on the other has led to a situation where much of French philosophy has become more of an art than something tied to logic, ontology, and epistemology. At least, in this context, Catherine Malabou is returning to reality with work on brain plasticity and François Recanati with conditional pragmatics. These are, at least, positive projects after decades of French philosophy providing content that was highly entertaining but ultimately superficial.