The chapter argues that Fogarty’s lyric “I” emerges out of questioning and inverting the institutional and political forces that define his work. It traces the development of his poetry as political dialogue through the context of his childhood at Cherbourg Aboriginal Reserve, his participation in community programs, the National Black Theatre, and the emergent Australian Black Panther Party. It includes his role in the Aboriginal land rights movement, the Black Resource Centre collective, and his engagement with Black Studies courses. The chapter also outlines the reception of Fogarty’s poetry and the challenges that his resistant poetics poses to the field of ‘Australian literature.’ The chapter investigates how Fogarty creates an ecology of connections between the human and non-human, distinguishes his writing from a prior generation of Aboriginal writers, fostered inter-Indigenous and cross-cultural connections internationally, and has many intimate addresses, including poems to his brother, whose death in custody triggered political marches and has tragic resonance today.

Critical comparative law, as we know it, defines itself negatively: it stands not for, but against something, that is, traditional comparative law. This state of affairs turns critique into a weak programme for it tends to polarise and polemicise the discussion on comparative law and its methods. Critique divides an ‘us’ (the avant-garde) against ‘them’ (the mainstream). This chapter argues for a paradigm shift, reconceptualising critique as an ethos: an attitude that requires the comparative lawyer to position and reposition her- and himself time and again towards the received methodological tools and themes currently in vogue. Consequently, critical comparative law cannot be identified with advocating a specific substantive proposition or method, yet constitutes a mode of reflection. In this chapter, the critical positional work revolves around the view on (comparative) law from beyond the Western world. It first provincialises and specialises critical comparative law and, on this basis, discusses critically the topics of legal relativism, decolonialism, and orientalism, using universal human rights as its core theme. An integrated excursus on ‘law as such’, finally, clarifies some long-standing critical issues in the triangle of truth, language, and the lifeworld of the comparatist.

This chapter discusses sub-Saharan Africa’s history with rock and metal, where Africa’s scenes are found today, and how those two genres have rooted themselves into the world’s ‘final frontier’ – whether it was during a difficult period of authoritarianism or through the organic passion of fans who found a genre that best represented their interest. As Africa’s various rock and metal scenes have unfolded during different periods in different countries under different circumstances, and continue to meet various challenges such as continued political strife, economic disparities and poorly developed infrastructures, this chapter also highlights what African metal bands sound like, the languages used in metal performances in Africa, and what if any local sounds and instrumentation acts are infusing (or, are they paying homage to their Western heroes?). Though the genres’ introduction into the African continent has met various difficulties, and continues to do so, African heavy metal stories tell of music that is empowering performers and excited fans alike.

Lara Martin Lengel, Ahmet Atay and Yannick Kluch propose in their chapter to theorize decolonization as a framework that emphasizes empowerment through the potential to reframe and re/envision history. The aim is to break away from dominant Western and US-centric ways of studying culture, communication and identity and the relationships among them, including especially the construction and performance of gender. This chapter also presents methodological strategies for critical intercultural communication research, particularly with focus on the intersectional nature of gender, identity, culture and power.