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Issue 0, Volume 17 WILLIAM HATELY Congratulations and welcome to Melbourne Law School and by consequence, welcome to Melbourne Law School’s most glorious publication. You’ll find print editions of this little rag scattered throughout the Law School weekly, and you’ll also find your Melbourne JD Facebook group spammed with the week’s articles every Tuesday. De Minimis is the Law School’s independent fourth estate with no allegiances or loyalties. It’s a place for MLS students to debate, argue, create, or to just get whatever off their chest. De Minimis is entirely what you make it. It can be a platform for you to raise issues evident in the industry, faculty or LSS. Or it can be a place for you to express yourself creatively, talk about your passions or even just have a bit of a whine about how rubbish Porta Via is.  De Minimis office receiving your submissions circa next Monday (Image: Wikimedia Commons)
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Issue 0, Volume 17 MAX FERGUSON Howdy. For a week now, you’ve gazed in wonderment at the storied halls of Melbourne Law School. In between lapping up healthy doses of LMR, you’ve been worrying about navigating the new friendships and enemyships of your new cohort. Well, worry no longer. I have gone to the trouble of compiling this helpful guide, to allow you to efficiently integrate into the MLS community. It’s time to buckle up, and get real. In order to maximise time learning, revising, and tending to your growing collection of houseplants, it is optimific to pigeonhole your classmates into one of several easily-identifiable archetypes. By dispelling the illusion that law students have individual personalities, you will free up some much-needed space in the ol’ coconut. An added benefit is that your friends will be easily replaceable should they become lost or damaged, much like IKEA furniture.  Bloody Harveys Issue 0, Volume 17 ILA LOHNING  Ila is a Second Year JD Student and the 2020 De Minimis Layout Editor.
Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 ANISHA THOMAS Hello, welcome, goodbye, bon voyage! This is probably the least interesting article in this issue, but it’s important, as much as we can, to do justice to narrative arcs. This article pays homage to yet another year of this glorious crusty rag, stained by the fingers of curious/bored lunch-eaters on levels one through five. Every year, De Minimis sets out its humble practice, with a dedicated vision for the year. Kidding, that would be truly luxurious for us to do. The editors of De Minimis are more often than not haphazardly trying to put together something on a weekly schedule when most of its audience and writers would much rather study (you’re a law student, of course you’re a bit of a nerd—even if there’s a dearth of Instagram content involving artfully strewn textbooks amid half-drunk glasses of wine, save for Swotvac).  Illustration by Ying Wong Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 MAX FERGUSON Since the airing of Four Corners’ segment “Cash Cows” in April, the issue of international students at Australian universities has been a hot topic in the media. Many of Australia’s most prestigious tertiary institutions have been accused of cashing in on the international student market, to the detriment of academic integrity, quality of education, and both international and domestic student bodies. The University of Melbourne has done little to assuage such fears, choosing instead to adopt an attitude of secrecy. It must be stated at the outset, that the media hype around this issue has exposed some disgusting bigotry directed toward overseas students. This article in no way seeks to further this hardship, or cast any aspersions upon individuals or the countries from which they come. Rather, the goal is to contextualise the debate for all the relevant stakeholders, including international students themselves.  Image: The Confucius Institute on Faraday Street Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 ANONYMOUS This article is based on my experience clerking at an unsafe law firm, going to market and securing a grad role and summer work. Based on my experiences, I hope that the following advice might be helpful to anybody currently struggling with the clerkship process.  Image: LexnGr https://flic.kr/p/8TDkMc Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 JOHNNY UDALL And there I was, staring down the Dark Lord himself. Well, the interviewers for a graduate role at a large international firm. One partner was staring out the window, another screwing their face as my jokes flew over their head, and the HR lead was grinning as if I were the first customer in an American Apple store. The whole experience was a little creepy. I really wanted this graduate job, so I put on my best corporate face, answered their hypotheticals while channelling my inner-Elon Musk, and identified major problems in their workflows and client acquisitions that, honestly, they should have paid me for. Everything was going grand. Now, on my CV I have a cute little note about my mountaineering trips I took in my gap year. A solo glacial ascent of Norestliche Hängegletscher, Watzmann-Ostwand, summits of Steinernes Meer plateau, Mitterhorn, and a near death experience on Großvenediger. The partner who had been staring out the window suddenly got interested at this, telling me that her husband always climbs hills too, but she didn’t understand why. Apparently, it’s just too much effort for so little reward. She returned to her window.  Illustration: Johnny Udall Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 HANNAH HUNTERSMITH *But also go to therapy
 Image: John Krzesinski https://flic.kr/p/bmoQQw Issue 12, Semester 2, 2019 BEN STERN In the Mezzanine I find comfort from my peers They are family I’m on Level 3 People here are not my friends The silence scares me Ben is a Third Year JD Student.
Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019
KARAN DESAI Alright folks, brace yourselves. Just like Pancake Parlour's famous syrupy, multi-stacked, banana-laden, god-tier(debatable?) dessert, or (Stephen King's) Pennywise the Clown — this. is. “IT”. The big one. The doozy. What you all have been waiting for (and by 'you all’, I mean the 1 person who listened to/followed the last playlist I made — shout out to them!). The playlist to end all playlists (... because I will be graduating soon, and this 3-part series is complete). You know how it goes: mo' money, mo' songs. Finally, this one goes out to my fellow third years, ready to leave the halls and exit the (revolving) doors of MLS for the big, wide world out there (source of the mo' money). With good feelings, with bad feelings... with ALL the feelings. There is 1 song for each 5-day week of all 12 weeks in our 6 entire semesters = a massif 72 weeks of the JD (plus a few bonus songs for those who did summer/winter subs or are extending!). Honestly, I think Post Malone's recent release, Hollywood's Bleeding, could've applied perfectly to the JD experience. Trust Posty to appropriate from even as niche an area as a graduate law course. But he did, and he did it well. Although for the sake of balance, there is only a single Post feature. The rest touch other, more discrete genres than 'post-Malone' (think post-punk, post-rock etc). I tried to avoid as many clichés as possible (e.g. Vitamin C's "Graduation Song") and made this playlist as appropriate for a graduate cohort as I could. But inevitably, as we go on into our future lives, we’ll remember all the times we had together at MLS (#JD2017). And as our lives change, come whatever, we will still be departing this degree forever… so it’s only fitting that we reflect upon our lives so far. To conclude, in the wise words of Des’ree -- ‘laife. oh laife. ohhhhh laaaaaiaiaife. ohhh laife (doo, doot doot doooo)’. Karan is a Third Year JD Student and the 2019 De Minimis Layout Editor and Resident Playlist Creator. Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019 ANONYMOUS The queer movement and the LGBT+ community is an undeniable paradox. A movement that calls for intersectionality, diversity, and inclusiveness is awfully hostile towards anyone who doesn’t think like them, anyone who doesn’t hold the ‘right’ view. Which is anyone that doesn’t subscribe completely to their ideology by the way.  Image: ryanhsuh31 on Flickr https://flic.kr/p/dR66f1 Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019 S. M. EAGOL So, it’s come to this. You’ve got about 4-5 weeks left of study for the year (or your life, if you’re lucky enough to be graduating) and you really feel that you should be knuckling down and studying hard to finish off the year strong. Or… you could procrastinate and leave everything till later, which is much more fun. Here are 10 ways to procrastinate that will leave you feeling happy enough to outweigh your guilt from not reading WorkChoices.  Not really OK but OK - Image: De Minimis own Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019 YING W Until recently, I hadn’t shaved in about six months. What started as a way to let my legs heal from a particularly bad bout of ingrown hairs and razor bumps had evolved into an outward proclamation of my femininity and feminism. As I have not been bestowed with the genetics of my Southeast Asian forebears, my pits, and, to a lesser extent, my legs, blossom with hair when unattended, as flowers in spring. But as the weather inevitably heats up, I’ve begun a process of existential interrogation. Would I be able to work at a law firm, or any professional legal capacity, and maintain the hairiness that has brought me such joy?  Image: Music and Lights on Flickr https://flic.kr/p/2b8J2a6 Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019 LESTER OAKES If Melbourne Law School were a country, the cheeseboard would be its national dish. At any one of dozens of events throughout the year, a spread of crumbled cheddar, stilton and brie will invariably be on hand, ranging from the simple affairs of lunchtime lectures, to the thousand-dollar constructions of networking and graduate events. In addition to providing a meal replacement for impecunious students, the cheeseboard itself bears a proud history, ranging from the humble origins of dairy in prehistory, to the heights of gastronomic invention in the modern age.  Image: Gio on Flickr https://flic.kr/p/7zvGDQ Issue 11, Semester 2, 2019 SAM O'CONNOR I recently (finally) got around to watching Netflix’s documentary on Cambridge Analytica (CA)’s use of personal data to persuade voters during the 2016 United States presidential election campaign, and the UK’s 2016 referendum on membership of the European Union.  Image: Netflix Issue 10, Semester 2, 2019 EDGAR BOX For most of us, the logic governing the elevators at 185 Pelham Street appears to be the invention of a cabal of half-crazed building planners after being locked away in a basement for two weeks with nothing but a supply of opium and graphing paper. Elevators are selected and dispatched to calls seemingly at random, with no correspondence to the relative proximity between their destination and previous floors. An upward bound elevator accidentally boarded will sometimes suddenly reverse its direction of travel at your request, whilst other times you’ll be dragged the length of the building before it deigns to deposit you at your location. You might wait three minutes in the lobby at 10:30am, whilst a carriage will instantaneously materialise itself for you on level seven at 4:00pm. As law students our lives are already not our own, governed by the operation of a thousand invisible systems, from the cold Boolean preference weighting in timetable allocations, to the inscrutable calculus of aptitude testing in clerkship applications. We cannot control most of these, but we can at least shine a light into some of these hidden corners, including the rules of by which the lifts operate. In all likelihood, you don’t think too often about the lifts, but behind their seeming insanity is actually a hidden dance of mathematics — fascinating once laid bare, and even in its own way, beautiful.  Level 5 Lifts circa June 2019 - literally UPlifting. Image: De Minimis own. Issue 10, Semester 2, 2019 FINBAR PIPER My recent request to Melbourne Law School to disclose some basic financial and operational data was intended to inform a De Minimis article addressing the communication gap between student body and administration. I felt that by translating from policy and structure to outcome and implication, the student body would be more engaged in the institution of Melbourne Law School and invest something other than the $120,000 fees during their time here. The walls I came up against, both by email and in person, to the release of any information whatsoever led to a startled reassessment of the relationship between administration, student body, and broader society. Rather than continuing in the more fundamental political debate about the value of knowledge as a public good, and a university’s role in administering it, I offer an apolitical proposition to Melbourne Law School: that it could and should do more for the wellbeing of its community. Not only for the sake of the community, but for the benefit of the Law School itself.  Issue 10, Semester 2, 2019 WILFRED HIGGINBOTHAM* *Note: Author is using a pseudonym In light of the current headlines about wage theft in the hospitality industry, I thought I’d add my two cents, in case it helps prompt anyone to take action. You should! I finally quit hospitality work about two weeks ago. I’d been in the industry for roughly five years, and during that time not one employer had managed to pay me consistently and correctly. I received a payout from one of my previous employers around a month ago. Here’s how it happened.  Image: Wikimedia Commons Issue 10, Semester 2, 2019 JACOB KAIROUZ I was dumbstruck a few months ago when I watched an episode of Slutever entitled ‘Do Bisexual Men Exist?’. I thought the question had been solidly answered in the affirmative. I thought the real question was, ‘do hets exist? Aren’t we all bi?’ I thought we had established a consensus! This certainly was a reality check. After managing to pull my head out of that bisexual fantasy world, I remembered that queers are used to having their identity policed. A TV show was seriously debating whether or not I exist. The truth hurts.  Image: Wikimedia Commons Issue 9, Semester 2, 2019 LAURA S A little while ago, being the generous soul I am, I offered a friend a lift. And being even more kind-hearted, I gave them full control of DJing through my phone that was plugged into my aux. Obviously, this was also an exercise in trust – were they going to dig through my photos and find my selfies from when I was eighteen? Or was I giving them full license to creep through my text messages? No – worse. After a few minutes of them flicking through my playlists, they looked over at me, laughed and said ‘wow, your music taste really sucks.’ So, I laughed back, and pushed them out of the car. Not really.  Issue 9, Semester 2, 2019 RICHY GOODLAD Sunshine on my neck trees whispering in the wind Nasonex cleanses Richy is a First Year JD Student.  Image: Chris Eason https://flic.kr/p/4J6LDn Issue 9, Semester 2, 2019 THEA WALTON You are a crisp splash in the pool on a summer's day, sighing, sliding into freshly-washed bed sheets, a cold toilet seat on your soft, warm bum. You are not your grades. You are screaming Mr Brightside at the top of your lungs, laughing so hard you can't breathe, the moment you realise your new friends are now your good friends. You are not your grades.  Image: Amanda Kelso https://flic.kr/p/mWdqB You are
the first time "v" became "and", using Prima Facie in normal conversation, forgetting how to spell judg(e)ment You are not your grades. You are the skip of your heart when your crush texts, smiling at your lover from across a crowded room a soft, gentle kiss on your neck. You are not your grades. You are the hole drilled in your chest when a loved one dies and the memories you use to patch it, every time your parents say 'I love you' and the first time you really hear it. You are not your grades. You are every moment, every feeling, every breath. You are not your grades. You are so much more. Thea is a First Year JD Student. Issue 9, Semester 2, 2019 JIMI MUIRHEAD The De Minimis editorial team revealed the other week that LSS committee members are rewarded annually with a party worth an average of $27.50 per head. It’s important to note how this remuneration compares to other societies representing law students. The Graduate Student Association declares that it provides ‘enrolled graduate students at the University of Melbourne with representation, events, training and support’ and that the organisation is ‘the heart of graduate student life’.The GSA received over $2 million a year in SSAF funding, the student services and amenities fee we all pay each year, as opposed to the reliance on corporate sponsorship by the LSS.[1] The students who sit on the GSA committee, many of whom have been law students in recent years, have been provided ‘honoraria’ payments. It is understood these have been upwards of $8,000 per member in recent years. The GSA admit committee members are paid on their website but fail to disclose how much. The most recent available financial statements show the GSA spend roughly $130,000 on these payments every year. De Minimis contacted the GSA committee for comment recently, however they have not yet responded. 
Issue 9, Semester 2, 2019
DELINNA DING I miss India. It's been more than a month since my internship at Human Rights Law Network as part of the subject Law and Legal Practice in Asia and I am still yet to fully process my time there. Those who know me know that I'm quite a private, but emotional person. I often find myself getting attached to my surroundings, taking things too personally, or thinking and overthinking things. It wouldn't be the first time someone pointed out to me that these are the precise attributes of lawyering which are unwelcome. After all, lawyers are supposed to be objective, unwavering, sharp – nothing less but also nothing more. But hey, I'm still working on it. 
Image: Supplied by author
Issue 8, Semester 2, 2019 CHARLES D Editor's Note: With the culture war between the Mezzanine and Level 3 heating up this semester, De Minimis has decided to pick a side in the battle with a reprint of a love letter to the L3 study area, from the halcyon days of 2012. Online Editor's Note: Mezz is better anyway xoxo I’ve been storing this one up since February Nothing causes me to feel as much as the level three study room: feelings of attachment and knowing, of love and security, of frustration and anxiety, at times of downright loathing. I wrote some months ago that law school is toxic for romance, but that was before I realised that I’ve developed feelings for something that are unrivalled to any I’ve experienced in my relatively short lifetime. I’m in love with the level three study area.  |
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