2024 Edition One

Publishing the University of Melbourne’s student writing and art since 1925

FARRAGO

Edition 1 2024: indie sleaze

Acknowledgement of Country

Farrago is published on the lands of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation. We have published on this campus and on this Country now for 99 years. We pay our respects to the Traditional Owners of this land and to all the lands on which our University operates: the homes of the Boonwurrung, Yorta Yorta and Dja Dja Wurrung people.

For near on a century, Farrago has held the stories of students here at the University of Melbourne. A century feels like a long time, but stretching far back, way beyond our birth in 1925, is over 65,000 years of stories from this continent’s first storytellers. Farrago recognises the value and power of these stories and commits to platforming the voices of Indigenous students here at this University. These stories existed long before us and will endure long after us.

CONTENTS

Contributors

Editorial President and General Secretary

Disha Zutshi and Enzhe (Kevin) Li

GSA, Southbank, Burnley

Justine Light De Guzman, Felicity Liston, Amy Rogers, Ariel Teo and Jake Duyvestyn

Office Bearer Reports

AusPol: The Battle for Middle Australia

Pryce Starkey

“Keeping up the fight”: What a post-EBA future brings for University staff

Mia Jenkins

OPINION: Carlton public housing redevelopment the sign of a failing housing system

Finley Monaghan - Mc Grath

Metro Boomin the Depths: Metro Tunnel Explainer

Alan Nguyen

OPINION: Why you should be a socialist

Jaan Schild and Emma Dynes

Artwork

Maleea

Craving

Gunjan Ahluwalia

Jump Mania

Maleea

Satire-in-Brief

The Satire Team

I Cant Stand Dumb Love Songs

Ledya Khamou

YOUNG PEOPLE THINK THAT EVERYONE IS OLD

Michelle Yu

oh to be cool

Cynda Beare

(Where is my Mind?)

Cynda Beare

WHAT DO I DO IF NOT FOR YOU

Elysha English

I wish I didn’t have a body

Aaron Agostini

A Long Road, Walking Alone

Guanhua Huang

Micro-Plastic Past-Times

Eleanore Arnold Moore

one of three

Cynda Beare

I think it began with the cranes

Xiaole Zhan

Omnis-phóbos (or) the feal of all: Astrophobia, the fear of space

Wildes Lawler

The ‘Chasing That Feeling Diaries: The Feeling Helani Munidasa Odds & Ends

Ashlea Banon

All Aboard

Rashdan Mahmood

One Unimelb Year: Semester 1: Week 1 “blueandlilac”

God Stares Back

Donna Ferdinando

A postcolonial peak into the Shakespearean worlds

Claire Le Blond

The Dispatch from Table Four

Sebastian Moore

Featured photography

Alan Nguyen

Weiying (Irene) Lu

Kien-Liem Ling

My First Vibrator: A Love Story

Zoe Quinn

Narratives of Revenge

Rashdan Mahmood

Beating the Nostagia Pinata: Why the Eras Tour Ruined Taylor Swift For Me

Ledya Khamou

I am in a Parasocial Relationship with my Favourite Sick Girl

Aroma Imran

Thread in a Tapestry: How I Cope With Being Half-Fluent in Vietnamese

Elizabeth Pham

Eazy Sleazy: The Definitive 2000s Indie Mixtape

Dom Lepore

Attachment At Its Core: A Convoluted Understanding Of Bonds

Ella Cigognini

What 2012 trend you are based on your zodiac sign?

Veronica Kwong

20 MINUTES’ WALK: the new venturer’s guide to live music around campus

Harrison George

Meet the Fodder: Producers

The Fodder team

Message from the Managers

Harrison George and Lauren Williams

EDITORS

Gunjan Ahluwalia

Jessica Fanwong

Joel Duggan

Kien-Ling Liem

COVER

Gunjan Ahluwalia

Kien-Ling Liem

Mia Walton

MANAGERS

Disha Mehta

Emily Hope

Harrison George

Hayley Yeow

Lauren Williams

Phoebe Sava

Ruby Grinter

Stephen Zavitsanos

Weiying Lu

CREATIVE SUBEDITORS

Aditi Acharla

Amelie Staff

Charli Davies

Danielle Holden

Felicity Smith

Fergus Sinnott

Ilnaz Faizal

Isaac Thatcher

Bella Farrelly

Isobel Connor-Smithyman

Jack Jeffreys

Kartiya Ilardo

Matthew Chan

Olivia Brewer

Sophie He

Veronica Kwong

Yu Zhong

COLUMNISTS

Akanksha Agarwal

Ashlea Banon

Claire Le Blond

Donna Ferdinando

Helani Munidasa

Jack Jeffreys

Jonathan Chong

The Provocative Inklings

Rashdan Mahmood

Sebastian Moore

Olivia Camillin

Wildes Lawler

Xiaole Zhan

CONTRIBUTORS

CONTRIBUTORS

Aaron Agostini

Astara Bell

Cynda Beare

Dom Lepore

Eleanore Arnold Moore

Ella Cigognini

Elysha Kaye

Guanhua Huang

Ledya Khamou

Michelle Yu

Nimrada Silva

Veronica Kwong

ILLUSTRATORS

Amber Liang

Chelsea Pentland

Emma Bui

Felicity

Harriet Chard

Indigo Jessell

Jennifer Nguyen

Lauren Luchs

Leilani Leon

Letian (Lydia) Tian

Maleea

Thomas Weir-Alarcon

Yilan Tao

Zarif Ali

NON - FICTION SUBEDITORS

Amelie Staff

Aroma Imran

Asimenia Pestrivas

Audrey Goodman

Bella Farrelly

Chamathka Rajapakse

Chelsea Browning

Emily Macfarlane

Isaac Thatcher

Isobel Connor-Smithyman

Janice Hui

Layla Zain

Maddie Barron

Madeline Barrett

Mary Hampton

Momoka Honda

Neera Kadkol

Samson Cheung

Srihari Mohan (Harry)

Stella Mcdonald

NON - FICTION STAFF WRITERS

Aroma Imran

Ayva Jones

Chiaki Chng

Elizabeth Browne

Elizabeth Pham

Fergus Sinnott

Jayden Seah

Ledya Khamou

Maria Quartel

Pamela Piechowicz

Rashdan Mahmood

Zoe Quinn

PHOTOGRAPHY

Alan Nguyen

Chatarina Hanny Angelita

Teja

Nirmalsinh Bihola

Piper Jones-Evans

Yurong Xu

REPORTERS

Alan Nguyen

Anastasia Scarpaci

Annie Karkaloutsos

Arjun Singh

Ayva Jones

Billie Davern

Buena Araral

Chelsea Browning

Finley Monaghan-Mc Grath

Hanane Seid

Ibraham Muan Abdulla

Mathilda Stewart

Meagan Hansen

Mia Jenkins

Pryce Starkey

Ravin Desai

Romany Claringbull

Sam Irvine

Sana Gulistani

RADIO FODDER PRODUCERS

Anushka Mankodi

Dom Lepore

Isolde Kieni-Judd

Jack Loftus

Tom Weir-Alarcon

SATIRE

Aaron Agostini

Alexia Shaw

Eden Cater

Jasmine Bills

Jonathan Chong

Lucinda (Lucy) Grant

SOCIAL MEDIA

Duy Dang

King Shi

Larissa Brand

Thanh Thanh An Quach

Alan Nguyen

VIDEOGRAPHY

Christina Arthur

Deidre Chloe

Nirmalsinh Bihola

This magazine is made from 100% recycled paper. Please recycle this magazine after use.

Farrago is the newspaper of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU). Farrago is published by the General Secretary. The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of UMSU.

If you want to raise an issue with the union and with the university, please contact the President and General Secretary. president@union.unimelb.edu.au secretary@union.unimelb.edu.au

Jessica:

I believe we have all just experienced and survived our first ever Farrago-induced insomnia. The stereotypical picture of a 2000s media office of frantic people dashing around with pages of designs and pieces in half-baked states has not proven wrong. Except add in the back-pain, asthenopia, a few sprinkles of sore necks (because after all we are in the digitised age of 2024), a deluge of emails and an intense phobia of Slack and run-sheets! But the final result is our first love child Farrago which we’re excited and proud to be presenting to you. With a more diverse range of pieces in the creative department as well as a revamped radio station and an exciting line-up of events and workshops in the new semester, I can’t wait to see where the media department will be by the end of our terms. Here’s to a fabulous new year of student media!

Kien-Ling:

After a sleepless summer and a balmy Melbourne January, the first edition of this year’s Farrago is finally here. Our shared child with four-way custody. Birthed in 1925, reborn in 2024. This year, we’re reimagining Farrago not only in physical print, but as a whole creative department. For too long we’ve forgotten about Radio Fodder, who will have her own glow-up this year, so keep your ears peeled for her frequency, but this year also marks the official beginning of our long-awaited for Reviews department. So, here’s to new beginnings and rekindling old flames.

I’m glad to call these people the co-parents of our little Media department. We’re wed by a passion for writing, design, art, music, and at our very hearts, the creative arts.

Joel:

I sacrifice my sleep schedule, lung health and general welfare at the altar of Farrago. I hope it is an offering that proves worthy.

I’m the News Editor, so I should probably speak to some of the news we have going on this edition. We’ve got a big update on bargaining negotiations between the NTEU and University and some top-tier, data-driven analysis of the current Australian political landscape, while your UMSU Enviro OBs make the case for socialism. Our resident Urban Planning major gives us the rundown on the Metro Tunnel and in another story you can read about another local development–you know we’ve got hot takes on what’s happening to the Carlton public housing towers.

Gunjan:

After many many sleepless nights, some wrist pain and a hunched back from looking at the screen for hours, we finally present to you our first child. This year we’re bringing a new and fresh look to Farrago, some revamping to the design team with workshops and events and a whole lot of ideas and enthusiasm. We're excited to bring something new to the table and welcome a new era at Farrago, while hoping to continue the legacy ;)

Report not submitted

Hi there and my name is Enzhe (Kevin) Li and I am the 2024 UMSU General Secretary. I am a second-year JD student and have been around Unimelb for a while now. The start of Uni has always been a hectic but exciting time, and I would like to welcome all of our new cohort with open arms! Now, a little about my role. The General Secretary’s role in UMSU is a lot less directly visible than some other offices but is no less important in that it offers the support every other department needs to function! From serving as the official secretary of the organisation, to being the publisher of all communications from UMSU, to processing all minutes and records of meetings for all committees and council, and so much more. Aside from these official roles, the secretary is also someone who serves a triage role for student issues, problems,

inquiries, and expressions of interests. From finding a place for our keen bean volunteers in UMSU’s amazing calendar of events, to bringing key student issues to the attention of the university or advocacy and legal. Like any other student representative, the General Secretary works at the grassroots level with the other officers of the Student Union to unify the student voice, fix student problems, and build student community. However, they are also responsible for, at the organisation and governance level, bringing key reforms and changes to the union as a whole. Please don’t hesitate to get in touch if you have any questions or issues, and don’t hesitate to get involved in your student life and student union.

General Secretary Enzhe (Kevin) Li

President Disha Zutshi

Hello there! We are Felicity, Justine and Ariel - your Southbank Team for 2024. We are always in the midst of planning events and programmes at Southbank, including weekly breakfasts and BBQs. Ever heard of the bread bin shelf at the student lounge? It is now officially renamed to the Southbank Survival Station to make it a little more fun and quirky. At the Southbank Survival Station, you can find food pantry items to make hectic student life a little easier. Items are stocked at different timings, so keep a lookout on our socials for updates! If you have any concerns, ideas or questions, we are here to help. Our

role is to empower and support you by bringing up your concerns directly to uni staff. If you’d like to find us in person, our office is located on level 2 of the Southbank library. If you can’t catch us there, reach out to us via the following:

Email:

southbank@union.unimelb.edu.au

Instagram: @umsu_southbank

Facebook: UMSU Southbank (yes the purple banana)

Do follow us on our socials to keep tabs on upcoming events. We can’t wait to see you around!

Signing off with lots of love, Your UMSU Southbank team

I’m Jake – the current Burnley Department OB. The Burnley department is responsible for representing the needs and supporting the student experience of students at the Burnley campus. Due to the University severely reducing course offerings since they took over our former horticultural college, our student cohort today is entirely post-graduate which creates unique challenges for the department. Students are older, many study part time, and few electives required for our courses are still offered at Burnley. These and other factors all combine to mean that it’s difficult to run successful events as there are few students on campus at any given time and many have busy lives that mean they can’t make it to campus outside of their scheduled classes. As such I’m hoping to focus more on improving our amenities and access to services this year and ensuring that we’re using our budget to really

enhance the on-campus experience. In the few months since induction I’ve been working hard to get our Student Amenities Building spruced up and ready for semester by cleaning what the university doesn’t, clearing out old furniture, rubbish and junk that’s accumulated around the place to make it a more welcoming and useful space. I’ve also continued an initiative started last year to provide basic breakfast supplies in our student kitchen, which have been hugely popular with our February intensive classes. In addition, I’ve been lucky to have the support of the CME team to help set up a campus email newsletter and plan a welcome BBQ for our new students as part of Summerfest. My priorities for the immediate future are to elect a committee and push the University to improve and better maintain our facilities, so we can have a campus experience fit for our needs and on-par with that of Parkville.

Burnley | Jake Duyvestyn

Southbank | Justine Light De Guzman, Felicity Liston, Amy Rogers and Ariel Teo

Activities | Mehul Gopalakrishnan and Amy Peters

Say hello to Mehul (aka Mischief any/all) and Amy (she/her), the dynamic duo running the show at our Activities Department! We kicked off the semester with a blast, throwing an epic Start of Uni Party (SoUP) that everyone’s still talking about. Now, we’re knee-deep in plans for our upcoming St. Paddy’s Day bash. Get pumped, because this year, we’re bringing you non-stop fun with a packed calendar of events every single week. Don’t miss out - follow UMSU Activities on Facebook and Instagram for all the latest updates and sneak peeks!

Clubs and Societies | Azalea Rohaizam and Hanny Teja

What a start to the year! Our Summerfest Clubs Expo was a massive success, thanks to the lovely contribution of staff members at the union as well as clubs! This year, we plan on reworking the Grievance procedures and policies to ensure an effective, equitable, and updated approach. We’re super keen to be representing clubs in 2024 and we hope to do so by ensuring clubs have proper resources to run safe events, support and recognition from our team. Don’t be afraid to swing by our office on Level 1 of Building 168 for any questions !

Creative Arts | Shravya Akkapeddi and Jiajie Zheng

Creative Arts 2024 has started with a successful Summer fest in Parkville and Burnley Campuses. Our enthusiastic committee helped us plan and finalise the fortnightly collectives that will be held on Fridays from Week 2 of semester 1. Many collaborations and collectives await this year and we are more than excited to get students involved in the arts on campus!

Can’t wait to meet everyone and provide fun events and artistic opportunities to the students!

Disabilities | Anishaa Jeyakumar and Adam Whitehead

The Disabilities Department had a fantastic time at Summerfest, reconnecting with old friends and welcoming new faces. Our sensory bottle making event was a highlight, offering students a chance to bond over crafting and take home a fun keepsake. Due to its success, we’re excited to announce that another workshop is in the works - stay tuned for details! We capped off the week with a welcome event at the Disabilities Lounge, introducing over 30 students to the space and sending them home with goodie bags. There are still plenty of freebies left, so be sure to pay us a visit on Level 3 of Building 168. Stay updated on our events and programs by following us on Instagram at @umsudisabilities and don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions or ideas.

Education (Academic) | Julian De Marco and Lucy Rachman Vascotto

Education Academic have been getting the ball rolling on the Student Representative Network, Policy committees and Policy reviews.

We kicked off the year with roaring success at our Summerfest events, chatting with over 750 students about UMSU, our department and the importance of the Student Representative Network (SRN). The SRN currently has an open round of applications and we’re gearing up to appoint a new round of representatives to advocate for students. There’s a swathe of policy review’s coming up this year, so there’s no better time than now to get involved with student leadership to advocate for students.

Education (Public) | Bella Beiraghi and Raphael Duffy

The Education Department held a great banner painting session last Friday in collaboration with the Environment office. It was so great to meet heaps of new students who want to get stuck into activism on campus. I’ve also been helping to organise the weekly Sunday demonstrations in the Free Palestine Melbourne campaign, and planning a national high school + uni student walkout for Palestine (this Thursday 1pm meeting at the amphitheatre!)

Environment | Emma Dynes and Jaan Schild

The Environment Department has kicked off the year with an activist banner painting in collaboration with UMSU EdPub. It was wonderful to get in touch with so many people interested in getting involved with the campaigns the department is planning. We painted a banner for the combined high school/uni student walkout for Palestine which will be happening in two days as of writing. Very exciting! Earlier in the year we attended the annual Invasion Day demonstration here in Melbourne, it was incredible to join the streets with thousands of other people demanding action on Indigenous rights.

GSA | Jesse Gardner Russell

Report not submitted

Indigenous | Hamish Rose

Ngata everyone, my names Hamish and I’m your new Indigenous OB for this year!

I’m a proud Gunditjmara man and was raised on Wautherong Country in Geelong. I’ve been busy planning a bunch of fun events and opportunities mob on campus to participate in such as Welcome Blak and Wear it Blak Wednesday. Please reach out if you have any questions but otherwise, have a great start of sem <3

People of Colour | Denzil Minnaar* and Jania Lam

Coming from vibrant corners of the world – Jania from Hong Kong and Denzil from South Africa – we proudly spearhead this year’s People of Colour Department. We promote equity, representation, and deepen cultural understanding. We recognise that racism isn’t confined to interactions solely between POC and non-POC; it extends to even within different groups of POC. Therefore, our focus is on cultivating an inclusive environment where every student-of-colour feels valued and respected. In 2024, we will be holding a series of cultural and advocacy events designed to connect students-of-colour, providing opportunities to explore diverse cultures. Swing by our office or the POC safe space to engage with us!

* not pictured

Queer | Binderiya Batzorig and Ryan Mittal*

Hello, everyone! Binderiya (she/her) and Ryan (he/him) here, we are your Queer OBs for 2024. Catch us at our office or ‘Queer Space’, level 3 Building 168. Excited to meet everyone!

This Semester in Week 4, we are planning ‘Pride Week’! A week full of exciting activities celebrating queerness of all kinds.

For regular meetups, we host weekly ‘Queer Lunches’ and fortnightly ‘G&Ts with the LGBTs’, both fun social gatherings with the latter including alcohol.

Our autonomous collectives include – ‘Tans Collective’, ‘Ace/Aro Collective’, ‘POC Collective’, and ‘Queer x Southbank Collective’. Follow us along on our socials and website for more details!

Welfare | Divyanshi Sati and Joshua Stagg

The start of 2024 has proven to be a busy time for the Welfare Department. The key issues we have been tackling include the redesign of Union Mart, sourcing suppliers for the Welfare Brunches, training volunteers, preparing the cost of living report, and more.

We recognise that the cost of living remains paramount of student’s concerns and so our resources are being directed towards alleviating the detrimental effects high inflation is having upon our community. We are always here to help, please reach out to us if you have any concerns or just want to chat.

Women’s | Akanksha Agarwal and Micaela Rynne

Hey! We’re your Women’s Department OB’s for 2024, Micaela (she/her) and Akanksha (she/ her). It was a super busy o-week, and it was awesome to meet so many of you at our stall! We’re working on our End Period Poverty on Campus campaign, which means exploring new free vending machines on campus for all students, and working out a way to get them into every single bathroom on all campuses!

We are excited for the launch of the new Respect Modules, and are looking forward to Respect @ Uni Week.

Check out our socials for more events! Follow us @umsuwomens <3

International | Richard Ha | UMSU International President Report not submitted

AusPol: The Battle for Middle Australia

by Pryce Starkey

If an election were held today, the results of the 2022 federal election would likely be repeated. In 2022, the Australian Labor Party under Anthony Albanese defeated the Liberal-National Coalition under then Prime Minister Scott Morrison, winning government after nearly a decade in opposition.

Both parties faced swings against them in the primary vote, while their combined primary vote fell to a record low of 68 per cent. Labor won 77 seats in the House of Representatives, a narrow one above the majority threshold, which allows it to pass legislation through the House without the need for cross-party support.

Should an election be held today, a similar vote margin would likely be replicated, according to an analysis of ten February opinion polls.

In Farrago’s weighted polling average, Labor leads the Coalition on the popular vote 52% to 48% two-party preferred (TPP), the same margin as the 2022 election. On the primary vote, the support for major parties also remains unchanged, with the Coalition leading Labor 36 per cent to 33 per cent. The Greens currently sit at 12 per cent (steady), One Nation at six per cent

(an increase of one percentage point), and other candidates at 13 percent (a decrease of one percentage point).

With a narrow majority in the House, these results could see Labor slip into a minority government, although the party would still defeat the Coalition, who currently hold only 55 seats. Whether Labor can maintain a majority ultimately hinges on whether it can expand its support among the middle and lower-middle classes, collectively known as ‘Middle Australia’.

Middle Australia & the Coalition surge

Throughout their first year in power, Labor and the Albanese government enjoyed positive approval ratings. Labor won the Aston by-election in a historic upset, putting them on track for a landslide victory over the Coalition at the next federal election, and substantiating their appeal to Middle Australia. However, in a catastrophic blow for the government, its Indigenous Voice to Parliament was defeated at the October referendum, including in a majority of Labor’s own safe working-class electorates. The Voice had been touted by Albanese as integral for Indigenous Reconciliation, a major goal for the Labor Party.

Following the Voice defeat, most opinion pollsters recorded a sharp decline in TPP support for Labor, as recorded by Newspoll (a decrease of two per cent), YouGov (a decrease of 1.5), Essential (a decrease of two), and Roy Morgan (a decrease of 4.5).

Support for the Coalition has since been climbing in Middle Australia. Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, who was a key architect of the “no” campaign, has mantled a Trumpian populist persona, accusing the Australian Electoral Commission of rigging

the Voice referendum. In January, he also called for a mass boycott of Woolworths and Big W over their decision to no longer stock Australia Day merchandise. While one poll found that only 20 per cent of Australians supported Dutton’s boycott, the Coalition’s growing support in Middle Australia has nevertheless been troubling for Labor. Between September 2023 and February 2024, TPP support for the Coalition has risen by four per cent to 51 per cent among the lowest incomes, according to RedBridge.

Dutton has capitalised on the cost-of-living crisis and Middle Australia’s subsequent dissatisfaction with the government. He has accused Albanese of being out of touch with ordinary Australians, and in a targeted swipe at Labor, has declared the Liberal Party to be “the party of the worker”.

Freshwater Strategy’s latest poll found that the cost of living is the most important concern for voters at 69 per cent, which the Coalition leads Labor on by six per cent. Meanwhile, 54 per cent of people believe that the country is heading in the wrong direction.

Labor fights back

Labor was initially paralysed by the Voice’s defeat. However, in 2024, the government has pursued a series of measures to alleviate cost-of-living pressures with the goal of regaining support in Middle Australia. In January, they announced a series of independent investigations into alleged corporate price gouging. One inquiry conducted by the Australian Council of Trade Unions found that airlines, banks, energy companies, and supermarkets were artificially inflating prices. These findings have been sent back to the government for further action.

The Senate has also passed an amendment to the government’s Closing Loopholes Bill, which would include an enshrined ‘right to disconnect’. This right would allow employees to refuse work-related communications outside of duty periods, without fearing repercussions from employers.

An Essential poll found that 59 per cent of people supported the policy, compared to just 15 per cent opposing it. In the interests of businesses, the Coalition has promised to overturn this legislation, putting them at odds with Australian workers.

Most important to the government’s agenda however is a planned amendment to the Morrison

government’s Stage 3 tax cuts, effective July 1. Under the proposed legislation, lower income earners would receive a larger tax cut, while high-income earners would see a reduced cut. Everyone, however, would ultimately receive a tax cut.

Coalition leaders initially vowed to roll back any amendments to the cuts, but later reversed their position following the release of polls that showed substantial support for the changes. It is thus expected that the changes will pass both chambers of parliament with bipartisan support.

The latest polls continue to show support for the amendments, including those from Essential (56 per cent), YouGov (69 per cent), RedBridge (60 per cent), and Newspoll (62 per cent).

However, most polls have yet to show a bounce in support for Labor, which is reason for concern for the party. While Freshwater Strategy found that most people supported the Stage 3 amendments, 43 per cent believed that they would not make a difference, which could explain Middle Australia’s reluctance to immediately reward Labor for their overhaul of Stage 3. Alternatively, it is also possible that voters have soured on Labor over accusations of ‘breaking a promise’. Coalition leaders have persistently levied this attack on Labor, on the basis of Albanese’s promises not to scrap Stage 3. Whether or not this has prevented Labor from receiving a boost remains unclear. Should Labor not receive a tax bounce, it could slip in the polls once again, falling into a minority government at the next election. On the other hand, should voters reward Labor, the government may be looking at a swing towards it, which could give it a larger majority. In the coming months, all eyes will be on Middle Australia as Labor and the Coalition battle for the heart of the nation.

Federal Liberal and Opposition Leader Peter Dutton. Credit: M Chan, via Wikimedia Commons

Prime Minister Albanese announcing a review into the conduct of supermarkets. Credit: Anthony Albanese, via X

“Keeping up the fight”: What a post-EBA future brings for University staff

by Mia Jenkins

National Tertiary Education Union (NTEU) branch members at the University of Melbourne voted on February 8 to endorse the enterprise bargaining agreement (EBA) proposed by University management following almost a year of industrial action.

NTEU Science Delegate Darren Hocking from the School of Geography, Earth and Atmospheric Sciences was among the 70% of NTEU members to vote in favour of the proposed EBA.

“I voted yes because I think we can keep up the fight for more equality, more equity, more justice, more fairness for minorities” says Hocking.

The EBA’s key wins for the NTEU involve an 8.5% pay rise across two years, a 75% secure work target, new diversity, equity and inclusion requirements, and a right to disconnect after work hours.

This EBA marks the first to be endorsed by the NTEU since the previous agreement expired in October 2021, coming as a result of two years of negotiations between University management and the union.

Hocking observes that this EBA offers a substantial improvement upon working conditions compared to previous agreements, describing it as “a quantum higher” in terms of its benefits.

“I hope that–and I’ve already seen evidence of it so far–we’ve had casuals, and they are being converted to the ongoing roles.”

In comparison to the prior EBA implemented in 2018, which outlined no concrete secure work target, this newly endorsed EBA commits itself to a core workforce baseline of 75% ongoing jobs and fixed-term contracts of over eighteen months.

The recently endorsed EBA will also work towards 350 full-time equivalent positions in

Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander employment by 2025. This compares to the 240 positions outlined in the 2018 agreement.

The NTEU University of Melbourne Branch undertook three rounds of strikes over the course of 2023: a day-long strike in the first semester, and two week-long strikes during second semester. During these actions, staff members participated in picket lines at entrances to Parkville campus, rallied outside the Raymond Priestley Building and conducted a march down Swanston Street as a gesture of support for RMIT staff.

These instances of industrial action contributed to developing a renewed sense of solidarity amongst unionists at the University, says Hocking.

“It was the strongest positive emotional experience that I’ve ever had in my 20 years of working in the university sector.”

Although the EBA has been accepted by union members and now awaits endorsement from a ballot of all University staff members in coming weeks, Hocking says there is still a lot of work ahead for the NTEU.

“We’ve built up, I think we can go further. I think that we can work on membership a bit more because the more members you’ve got, the stronger you are.”

The endorsement of this EBA comes at a time of broader change in Australian workplace law. The right to disconnect outlined in the EBA mirrors the Labor Government’s Right to Disconnect Bill, which passed through Parliament around the same time.

“The Albanese Government is already saying, echoing, the same things we’re saying in law. So, some of our wins are examples of what the wider labour market is responding to as well.”

by Alan Nguyen

OPINION: Carlton public housing redevelopment the sign of a failing housing system

by Finley Monaghan-Mc Grath

The ‘derelict’ Carlton public housing towers are set to be the first redevelopment of the Big Housing Build initiative which is in the works to be Australia’s largest ever urban renewal plan. Below the surface of this project, there exists multiple bureaucratic factors threatening to exacerbate the current public housing crisis.

In Victoria alone, we have over 120,000 people on the public housing wait list. In response to the crisis, Victoria’s Labor government, supported by the federal government’s new Housing Australia Future Fund (HAFF), announced the Big Housing Build in September of last year. These joint housing packages are set to increase the number of Victorian social homes by 10 per cent.

Then-Premier Daniel Andrews confirmed that 44 of the city’s public housing towers are to be razed and rebuilt to include a hybrid system of social, affordable, and market housing.

To fund this huge housing package, a mixture of state tax revenues, HAFF, and the new federal government’s Social Housing Accelerator fund (comprising of $2 billion for all states and territories) will be used. The redevelopments are expected to increase the number of residents that currently live in these towers from 10,000 to 30,000 by 2051. Increased spending into the desperately deprived social housing sector is without a doubt a positive move in the right direction. However, there are glaring issues within the proposed landmark housing package.

The Labor government’s smokescreen

Only 11,000 of the 30,000 tenants will be considered as public housing residents, meaning that this

massive project will only increase the number of public housing tenants in Victoria by 1,000 people. Clearly these numbers are not aligning whatsoever with the current demand for social housing. The second major issue is the Labor government’s strategic ambiguity regarding how much of the other dwellings will be considered as community, affordable, or market housing.

The key differences

Social housing encompasses both public and community housing and refers to government subsidised housing for people in vulnerable positions. Public housing is the gold standard—as it is owned and managed by the government, while secure and supportive renting conditions sees rent capped at 25% regardless of a tenant’s income (including Centrelink). Then there is community housing, which although it runs on similar principles for supporting people on low incomes, is less secure due to being managed and often owned by private companies. Rents are capped to 30% of the gross incomes of all members within a household, plus any Commonwealth Rent Assistance (CRA) that tenants may be entitled to. Just to reiterate that last point— CRA is syphoned straight into these private businesses without being considered as counting towards the tenant’s income payments. Suspect federal reforms involving CRA play a major role in this story, but more on this later. Affordable housing is harder to define but can most easily be thought about as a stepping stone between social and private housing. Broadly speaking, affordable housing is set at 75-80% of the

private market rate. Considering the current housing market, affordable housing has become, well, not afford able for those reliant on income support payments. Considering these definitions and pairing them against the lack of transparency shown by the Labor government regarding what the remaining 19,000 tenants will be categorised as signifies how serious and timely this issue is.

Our failing tax system

The recent uproar from the public about this issue is a direct result of the decline of public housing over several decades while community and affordable housing have concurrently been on the uptick. These simultaneous trends, broadly speaking, are an issue of chronic underinvestment from all levels of government.

Our tax system has significantly contributed towards the decline of public housing due to the way our federal government funds different states and territories. The service delivery of planning and housing is the responsibility of states and territory governments, while it is the federal government that has the power over fiscal resources, with an absurd 45% of state and territory funding coming from Commonwealth grants. This phenomenon is known as the vertical fiscal imbalance.

For the last 10 years our federal governments have been publicly pushing for more social housing while insisting for state and territory governments to do so while withholding funding that would allow them to.

Although HAFF looks to begin finally funnelling significant funding into social housing—it has taken far too long to do so. The demand now surpasses the proposed current Commonwealth grants, so we are

seeing the process of states, in this case, Victoria, being forced to make dollars stretch as far as possible. This is why the private sector is likely going to take control over the majority of the Big Housing Build as unlike the state government, non-profits are exempt from paying GST. This alone makes community housing a minimum of 9% cheaper to build due entirely to federal government taxation settings. The second notable fiscal imbalance that state and territory governments have to deal with is the fact that public housing tenants are ineligible for CRA, unlike community and affordable housing tenants. This provides community and affordable housing suppliers with the ability to charge extra rent and capture additional federal subsidies only available to non-profits or private businesses.

A report from the Legislative Council Legal And Social Issues Committee found that reforms to federal policies surrounding GST exception and CRA eligibility would increase Homes Victoria’s budget by upwards of $150 million per year. Clearly, by pairing the demand for social housing against what the current Big Housing Build sets out to accomplish, there is a huge discrepancy between what will be done, and what needs to be done. For real change to occur, we need two key things: suitable Commonwealth grants pumped into the deprived social housing sector, and a restructure of our tax system that allows for states and territories to allocate more resources to the crisis.

Metro Boomin the Depths: Metro Tunnel Explainer

by Alan Nguyen

If you have been studying at this university for a while, you may have noticed the ongoing construction work and detours making it challenging to get around. And if you are a new student starting this year, let me welcome you to the world of spending more of your time navigating the campus than actually attending classes. As Melbourne struggles with endless bus replacements, promotional material promising “more trains, more often” in the future only add to the frustration of daily commutes that already make you regret coming to campus in the first place. But why is this happening now, and what will it mean for us?

What is all this construction for?

The impending debut of the Metro Tunnel in 2025 promises to revolutionise Melbourne’s commuting landscape by offering a new link to institutions like the University of Melbourne and the Royal Melbourne Hospital. The tunnel will bypass the overloaded city loop by connecting the Sunbury, Cranbourne and Pakenham lines. It will introduce new stations at Arden, Parkville (the University), State Library, Town Hall and Shrine of Remembrance (Anzac memorial). The project’s benefits extend beyond reducing congestion; it promises to alleviate strain on tram routes that go through Swanston and Elizabeth Streets, enhancing passenger mobility.

Once dubbed “worse” than the Berlin Wall by former premier Denis Napthine, the Metro Tunnel aims to modernise Melbourne’s public transport system, playing catch-up with other cities amidst population growth and rising demand. While rival cit

ies like Sydney are building driverless metro systems, the Metro Tunnel has been beset by delays and controversies over funding stoushes and freeways. The promising slogan of “more trains, more often” teases commuters stuck in endless replacement bus services with the promise that the pain will be all worth it.

But why is there a need for such a change?

In Melbourne, navigating the train lines can feel as challenging as the daily struggle of navigating Redmond Barry’s two elevators and crowded stairs during peak periods. But with the introduction of the Metro Tunnel, it’s like discovering new elevators placed strategically on the opposite side of the building – offering a fresh route to your destination without the congestion of the regular doorway.

The Metro Tunnel won’t bring doom to the city loop; it’s set to enhance the entire network. Let’s paint a scenario: you’re living in Berwick and need to reach the university. Currently, you’d embark on a journey involving multiple modes of transport – a train to Melbourne Central, followed by tapping off at the crowded Myki gates, hopping onto a tram down Swanston or Elizabeth St, and then tapping on again before reaching campus. It’s a convoluted process that feels like piecing together a puzzle.

But with the Metro Tunnel in play, the scenario changes: you’d still get off at Melbourne Central, sure, but instead of manoeuvring through tram lines, you’d smoothly transfer via an underground walkway – all counted as one seamless journey. Further,

Photography by Alan Nguyen

with the separation of the Cranbourne, Pakenham and Sunbury lines it means that other lines, such as Frankston are able to go through the City Loop and integrate services together. This streamlined setup echoes systems found in other cities, including London and Tokyo, where such arrangements effectively manage capacity and facilitate transfers, ensuring commuters reach their destinations with less waiting time.

Speaking of waiting times, the Victorian Government has touted the project as a game-changer, vowing to ditch rigid timetables and reduce train wait times. They claim passengers will only wait up to 10 minutes for a train, which is a significant improvement from the current 20 minutes during off-peak hours. It should be noted, however, that there’s still a lingering question about whether this holds true for those living in the outer suburbs.

So, what will it mean for your academic year?

Many benefits of the tunnel have already come to fruition, such as the construction of accessible tram stops next to the hospital and near the Arts West building. But aside from that, expect more construction and more detours, which is business as usual. With the scary deadline approaching, the government is rushing to finish the project like a last-minute essay they forgot to do. But as we get closer to the opening date, expect a PR blitz and promotions and the university somehow being roped in as the proverbial ribbon gets cut. And once the new Myki system comes in, you can tap on and off with a debit or credit card, meaning the end of the long lines at the ticket machine that never works.

Does this mean the end of bus replacement services finally?

In short, no one knows but probably not.

The Metro Tunnel was just the beginning of a spate of big tunnels and acoustic sheds dotting the city. Melbourne braces for construction disruptions as the promise of long-awaited transportation routes looms and the elusive train to the airport, a saga as enduring as time itself, may finally come to fruition. However, many doubt this will happen and that the city will be resigned to wait yet another 67 years before it becomes a reality.

Some are even saying that the Metro Tunnel is not enough and there needs to be a second tunnel into the city that connects the North and South to further untangle the city’s network.

As the government green-lights yet another multibillion-dollar endeavour, the Suburban Rail Loop from Southland to Box Hill, Melbourne prepares for another chapter in its urban planning saga and very likely more bus replacement services. Areas like Doncaster, Rowville, and the city’s growing West currently have no plans to be serviced—not before the next election anyway—and will eventually be destined to become their own convoluted mess. Amid the uncertainty, Melbourne waits with bated breath, hoping the Metro Tunnel will deliver on its promise of more trains, more often, while bracing for the next chapter in the city’s chaotic transportation existence.

Artwork by Maleea

SOCIALISMRESIST

fight racist oppression

OPINION: Why you should be a socialist

by Jaan Schild and Emma Dynes

The Macquarie Dictionary chose the word “doom-scrolling” as its committee’s choice word of the year in 2020. It’s easy to understand why: the world is getting worse. Today it’s hard to open your phone without seeing the horrors capitalism is causing around the world. Globally, the system is wreaked by a series of crises which seem altogether insurmountable. Economic crisis is causing inequality to skyrocket; each year, the snowballing climate disaster is leading to more catastrophic and frequent fires and floods, often simultaneously; and a wave of far right movements are seeing the rights of women and migrants regress on a scale we haven’t seen for decades.

But there are some bright spots. The last ten years have seen more uprisings and revolts than any other period of capitalism.

There have been mass protests against the overturning of Roe vs Wade, and unions have fought to redress the huge inequality in the US and UK. Just last year there was a huge strike wave in France against the government’s attempts to raise the pension age. At the time of writing, Germany has just seen hundreds of thousands demonstrate against the far right Alternativ für Deutschland party and their racist attempts to expel vast numbers of migrants from the country. In Argentina, the far-right Milei government’s attempt to push through massive austerity, cutting funding for social services and swathes of privatisation, led to a general strike in January which saw the streets of major cities paralysed with protest.

Socialists champion these acts of resistance. We understand that unless we fight for the kind of world we want to see, things are likely to continue to get worse.

And it’s natural that in this period of political polarisation that socialist politics find an audience around the world. Because socialism has the answers people are looking for. Why has the wealth of the richest five men on Earth doubled in the last four years, while five billion people have got poorer? Why is nobody doing anything meaningful to fix the climate crisis? How can we really change the world?

Socialists can answer these questions because we see all the crimes and horrors of the system as deeply rooted in the profit-driven system itself. These are not natural problems of human society, just as much as climate change isn’t the result of natural fluctuations in the earth’s temperature. It’s the fossil fuel corporations that dig up coal to sell it who are responsible for the unprecedented speed of climate change (unprecedented since at least the asteroid killed off the dinosaurs). Bosses who run the system for profit are responsible for the inequality of capitalism today. You only have to look at the way supermarket giants like Woolworths and Coles massively

increased their prices during a cost of living crisis, raking in profit of over $1 billion each. And it’s bosses who benefit from systematically underpaying women workers–the average wage gap is about 19% in Australia now. A recent report in the ABC showed that dozens of businesses have wage gaps much higher. Airline company Jetstar’s pay gap, for instance, stands around 53.5%.

If every horror in the world is caused by the profit-driven system, then the logical solution is to dismantle capitalism. Socialists fight to overthrow capitalism and replace it with a society run democratically by the majority in the interests of human need, not profits for the rich.

That’s why resistance around the world is so heartening. When people are fed up with the way the system operates, and begin to collectively assert their will on society, we are training the muscles we need to take the power out of the hands of the capitalist class and put the power in our own.

Collective struggle is the antidote to feeling powerless under capitalism.

Resistance to the capitalist system is possible. Only four years ago in Trump’s America, the heart of global capitalism, over 26 million people, black and white, took to the streets for months to protest racist state violence. The Black Lives Matter (BLM) rebellion saw police stations burnt to the ground, most prominently in Minneapolis. Polls at the time from the Monmouth University Polling Institute indicated that 57% of American adults supported the rebellion and that 54% saw the burning down of the Minneapolis Police Station as at least partially justified. The movement threw into question a key capitalist institution of systematic racism for many Americans, including calls for the police to be completely abolished.

The BLM uprising was the first time a white cop was sentenced to jail for murdering a black person in Minnesota. It shows that not only can ordinary people fight racist oppression, but they can win small victories for justice.

But in order to overthrow capitalism, things will have to go a lot further—we will need workers’ strikes and revolutions.

To build the kind of movements we need to get rid of capitalism, we need everyone who is committed to fighting against injustice to join us. Everyone who thinks that we should get rid of the racism, the sexism, and the inequality of capitalism needs to dedicate their time to fighting for a world where that’s possible — socialism.

Jaan Schild and Emma Dynes are members of the Socialist Alternative. They are both Environment OBs in UMSU.

“We Hear You” – Government Set to Replace ‘Australia Day’ with ‘Australia Night’ After careful thought and extensive use of their ‘listening ears’, Parliament has finally stepped forward with their solution to the contentious holiday: “We take this very seriously and we’re sorry this took so long.”

by Aaron Agostini

The Earth is Not Just Flat; It’s Hollow

Lead researcher explains: “Imagine something that is very flat, and then, like, the inside is missing.” Dr. Mojo is grateful to have made the discovery, hoping it will “go on to make a positive impact for each and every person around the globe.”

by Aaron Agostini

Katy Perry is Alive and Well

The pop sensation is said to enjoy well-written television, getting Wordle in under three and a good jumper that’s not too itchy.

by Emily Hope

The University of Melbourne Considers Casual Positions for Vice-Chancellor in Alignment with Employment Policy

A statement from UniMelb reads: “We realised that slashing compensation to senior management saves even more money. Pretty cool!”

The proposal seeks to casualise the position of Vice Chancellor, with the employment contract to be renewed fortnightly. This includes benefits such as “flexibility, infinite sick days and introducing a younger, more open-minded work force – though we ask you be at least fourteen and nine months.”

by Jon Chong

Instagram Drops New Feature where is Deletes Itself Directly After You Post

Following strict government-mandated health and safety regulations, Instagram’s ‘Ignorance Mode’ is said to lessen “crippling fear and self-hatred”. So get outside and smell the roses while the paranoia rots you from within!

by Lucy Grant

Brighton Mums’ Book Club Question ‘Who Would You Cast in the Movie?’ Quickly Devolves to “Can you name an Asian Actor?” after this month’s read: Yellowface. “Lucy Liu!” Long-time-clubber Sue yelled following four minutes of silent thinking time.

by Emily Hope

Woman Accidently Breaks NDA After Two Second Lull in Conversation

Although initially grateful to have found the $4 million answer to remedying the elevator’s deafening silence, Judy recounts that the disappointment set in when “the silence sort of… intensified” after opening up to her colleagues (as well as two strangers and a child).

by Lucy Grant

Oscars Sweep: The Academy Forgets to Organise Cleaners so were Wondering if Greta and Margot Could Stay Back to Help Out

The Academy reiterates that they totally got and loved Barbie. They applaud Greta’s reclamation of disparaged markers of femininity as holding power, although remain a bit surprised that she is allowed out of the house without permission! Lucky she made it though because boy did that Oppenheimer themed confetti explosion make a mess.

by Lucy Grant

I Can’t Stand Dumb Love Songs

by Ledya Khamou

You can get anything that you want ‘til we see the sun, ‘til you hit the pedal, heavy metal, show that you care. It was only supposed to be one touch but now we’re two days in the same clothes and I keep coming back for you, back for you.

I wanna be your last, and (Ow!) Baby, you got me sick, you got me in this game I’m destined to lose.

I wanna be your first, want the sound of your voice on tape, and this kinda rush, by the fire, too loud, talk, talk, talkin’.

Why won’t you let me be your— let me be your— Forget it.

We’re snow in September and my feet hurt from running over the worst of my thoughts.

But I won’t go, won’t go ‘til we see the sun, ‘til the seed’s sown, and I’m walking towards the door. Still, like this, with a tight grip anywhere you’ll let me touch.

Heart Attack, One Direction

Kiss You, One Direction

Live While We’re Young, One Direction

Rock Me, One Direction

Over Again, One Direction

Back For You, One Direction

Last First Kiss, One Direction

Heart Attack, One Direction

I Would, One Direction

Last First Kiss, One Direction

Little Things, One Direction

Kiss You, One Direction

Rock Me, One Direction

They Don’t Know About Us, One Direction

Last First Kiss, One Direction

Summer Love, One Direction

Over Again, One Direction (roughly)

Change My Mind, One Direction

Over Again, One Direction

One Direction. Take Me Home. Syco Music 88725439722, Columbia 88725439722, 2012, compact disc Originally released in 2012.

YOUNG PEOPLE THINK THAT EVERYONE IS OLD

by Michelle Yu

18 is old

21 is old

24 is old (even to university students)

I’m old

Young people have a different sense of time –

An offensive one.

I don’t tell anyone my age

There’s only one reaction anyway

Whispered, Unsaid, Or uttered with shock

– “That’s so old!”

When did you graduate high school?

“More than two years ago.”

That’s into old territory for these young people any way. I don’t tell them they’re “so young!”

Why do they keep telling me that I’m “So old!”??

It brings me great joy to say

“Some things never change.”

A young person told me last Saturday that they were going to a Pokémon convention

That Bloons Tower Defense is awesome

That Plants Vs Zombies is hard

I played all those games

Yes, I do think that Bloons Tower Defense is awesome and Plants Vs Zombies is hard

Some things never change.

Some things never change, indeed.

It brings me great joy to say that.

But I think one day, everything will be forgotten

When I am no longer here to remember it.

The games, the joy

The pain I felt

The pain we felt.

And no one will remember what was lost. Perhaps everything will change in the end.

But when I am still alive

When you are still alive And some things change

When you are forgotten, Even as they look at you

When they stare at you And through you

For you are no longer there

For you are from another time

That is not now Another time

That is not now

Even though you are

From now.

Even though you exist Now.

As if you are

From

Another time

That no longer counts

I’m still here

Don’t you forget.

I have lived through pain as well

My days and summers

Sunsets and seasons

Are not nothing

Because you were born.

Content warning: references to queerphobia/homophobia, mentions of body dysmorphia, mentions of body transformation

oh to be cool

by Cynda Beare

Silver on my neck to show I am queer.

Look, I’m just like all of you

Except,

I come from a place where the road is hot and wide,

And the grass is dust, and the hairdresser costs twenty dollars if you stay in the closet, And that makes me better than you.

I am strong of mind and heart and, since the hormones, of arm.

I care so much, but I need you to know that I don’t.

My shoes are platformed so I can see over your heads. I have better places to be, no I will not look you in the eye.

Your neck is stained green, in case you didn’t notice.

You all find it so easy; dream people.

How can you stand it?

Being fog, vaguely shaped as whatever helps. I cannot shape myself so easily because I am solid.

Silver on my neck, wrists, fingers, face, to show I am worth your attention, but I will not give you mine cause that would mean I have lost and you have won, and,

At the end of the day, this is a competition.

Black dye stains the shower floor because I am not boring.

Give me more silver, let me live up to the standard, let me be the boy who writes about the little joys.

Where I’m from, coffee is too hot, The sun melts silver into my skin, I don’t have to try.

I am made of grit from the bottom of muddy mountain creeks, Either not real or the only thing that is.

Three steps behind. Or ahead. Can’t tell.

I beg of you, believe me when I say, I do not believe you.

Vacant stares, frowning under noise cancelling headphones, silver rubbing green onto your neck.

We’re all from somewhere.

Should I bleach my eyebrows?

Maybe another piercing would help.

Oh, I know, I’ll force myself to get used to wearing rings,

If I pretend again, I’m back to where I started. Years of staring at boys just to decide you were a lesbian. Because that must be it. Go on T, bitch, see what happens.

It’s this all over again, The separation, Like windows in bathrooms, Blurry glass between you and the world.

When I was fourteen, I moved to a different school and decided to introduce myself as Cynda.

I am strong of mind and heart and arm.

The art I make is not for you. You can look, tell me it’s great, sing my damn praises, but it is not for you, nor is it for me. It’s for Mum, Terri, Gracie, Rosa, Gabriel, Dani, Cherie, little girls in Far North Queensland listening to showtunes on Spotify with ads.

Silver on my neck to show I am queer, nails painted black to show I am pretty, spending scholarship money on tattoos and jewellery, so fourteen-year-old me can see their choice had meaning.

I have at least two friends who will be here long after silver rusts, Long after I settle back into thick air and wide roads, After ink bleeds out on wrinkled skin, When the stars on my tummy no longer make me sexy, Fond old eyes look into fond old eyes. I’ll know then. I will. Why you all find it so easy.

Maybe I’ll find it easy too. I fuckin’ hope so.

(Where is my Mind?)

by Cynda Beare

And for a moment Annie wondered at this, that her brother and sister, good, responsible, decent, fair-minded, had never known the passion that caused a person to risk everything they had, everything they held dear heedlessly put in danger — simply to be near the white dazzle of the sun that somehow for those moments seemed to leave the earth behind.

– Adapted from Elizabeth Strout’s “Snow-Blind,” Anything Is Possible

Perhaps one day, when I am 72 I will finally understand how to make a decision without taking days and weeks and to stick with it

If I ever manage to live that long, I might even get around to mastering projects and pizza toppings and personalised notebooks with my name printed on top

If I am ever 72, maybe I might meditate more often journal and yoga take vitamins drink less red wine

I suppose at 72 I might have finally figured out how batteries work Or laws of relativity or discipline or love for that matter all these words printed across motivational quotes I read so often voluntarily seeking them out At 72 one would hope that I am selfless and kind and always know

The right time to speak and when that time arises the right words to say And in the right order

At 72, I wouldn’t bother with contact lenses or smudged eyeliner (but maybe I’d spare that red lipstick – 225 Revlon: Wine Goes With Everything, I hope they bury me with it)

At 72, I wouldn’t worry about men I’d have no use for them having used up my heart

My entire heart all my life given it with open hands freely and without reserve

At 72, I wouldn’t worry about ‘love’ or whether my parents would approve, or what others might think of me when I leave a room

At 72, I will make up my mind in a flash at 72 I might even be wise and listen to my mind about what to have for dinner what to wear who to meet for lunch who to trust and who to stay clear of

But I being 22, am not so wise or rational or clever (and thank God) And being 22, having so much heart left to give I refuse I simply refuse To only listen to logistics or live inside lines

Let me swim in cold seas and catch bouts of pneumonia let me walk barefoot on coal stones let me talk to trees and stars let me write meandering poems about those that will inevitably break my heart

Let me be so wonderfully stupid as only 20-somethings can be let me throw myself off cliffs and into your arms not knowing never knowing the odds driven by forces we cannot control

Let me make ten different playlists about this this feeling this need to be consumed completely wholly nothing spared no point looking back Because one day I will be 72 and weathered and wrinkled up and no longer in the state to throw myself into fits of frenzy, running into seas, and running into you, hell I might not be able to run at all, let alone into your arms so let me be stupid for a while, let me use up my heart, because when I am 72, and my heart is all beaten up, no longer able to withstand rigours like this I might smile at my 22-year-old self thankful I didn’t listen to my mind for a fair while

Illustration by Indigo Jessel

Content warning: references to sexual harassment and sexual assault, mentions of sexual intercourse, mentions of domestic violence and emotional abuse in no explicit detail.

WHAT DO I DO IF NOT FOR YOU

by Elysha English

Metronome of heels on city streets

Alcohol waning aching waxes. Dry throat swallows morning air.

Was it two, three / maybe still yesterday, Barrelling towards tomorrow an empty bed.

Sweat sticks leather to bare back.

Still holds faint tinge of smoke—spluttered first cigarette

Bummed from the girl I arrived with I choked Burnt-out butt crushed under boot—the bouncer’s eyes roving up her leg.

I walk home dirty ploughed through alone.

Passed from body to body man to man shouting over bass blown speakers for name drink kiss touch

Scorned all scoff and sulk.

(I am still thinking of you)

Then today/yesterday/tomorrow I emerge Mascara rubbed down cheekbones at the end of your street now.

Are you even in town?

I never could keep track of you even when you were on top of me.

Boys lean out of a car window to leer at me. Grateful. It nearly stops me from remembering Which light is yours.

Each new today you rip me apart from afar

Leave me bleeding soothed only by strangers They tell me you’re the worst woman on earth

Agreeing with the same breath wasted crawling back to you. Revelling in the next kick to the stomach Bloody smile directed at my heart’s benevolent ruler.

One tomorrow it may change.

Smoke swallowed with ease tar under nail

Your name thrown off a rooftop another habit to discard Today my heels pause their song at your curb.

I wish I didn’t have a body

by Aaron Agostini

i used to spend summers at home

Back in cape may, new jersey

Back in tousled cattails

Back seat of my best friend’s bmw

Which was way older than either of us

And the air conditioning didn’t work

But the heat worked great

So after we’d put in the bare minimum at the gym

We’d crank up the heat as far up as it would go

Because the feeling of hot air moving

Was better than the feeling of nothing at all.

Then he’d tell me the same shit as yesterday, This little nugget of wisdom

That continues to ruin my life. Smiling, cigarette hanging out of his mouth like a second tongue,

Yelling I WISH I DIDN’T HAVE A BODY!

Then

it would be my turn to yell

That i had no idea what he meant by that, Though i understood exactly what he meant by that — That being a ball of light would be so much easier Than being this ridiculous little ball of flesh

Which needs food and water and exercise

And sweats when it’s too hot

And cries when it’s too much —

And in that exact moment, With my forehead still mourning from the gym

And the car’s hot breath pouring down my neck

And

My best friend driving like he was born to die, I did more than understand: I agreed.

A Long Road, Walking Alone

by Guanhua Huang

At twenty years old, I embarked on my first journey abroad, flying alone to an unfamiliar country. As I bid farewell to my parents at the airport, not a word was spoken. I checked in my luggage, passed through security, and found my boarding gate. It all seemed like a scripted performance arranged by fate, as if everything were merely a dream. On the plane, I gazed at the runway outside the window, reminiscing about the bygone days. Silently, I assured myself that this day had finally come—inevitably, it had come. The long road ahead would now be traversed solely by me. Seated beside me were an elderly couple from Shanghai. We chatted throughout the journey, and they shared their son’s experience studying at a university in Melbourne years ago, followed by his entrepreneurial journey in the city. In a daze, I found a resemblance between their son and me—we both possessed nonconformist personalities, both experienced loneliness back in our homeland. Separated by over a decade, I felt I was treading a path he had once walked, and it struck me that the process of human growth seemed to transcend eras. Perhaps, in a dozen years or so, there would be another young individual, full of enthusiasm, stepping out of their homeland to experience everything I was about to. By then, I would likely be a middle-aged individual who had weathered the storms of life. I might offer advice to this young person, similar to what the elderly

couple had said to me: “The world is a boundless ocean, and all ups and downs must be experienced by yourself.”

As the plane was about to land, the elderly couple told me, “The lonelier one is, the more one must learn to be independent, to engage in lifelong learning, because there is no one to rely on. Your parents are remarkable; when they plan your future, their only concern is your happiness. They will make choices that suit you, even if it means taking risks, feeling longing, and facing separation. With your personality, from now on, everything will depend on you. Don’t disappoint them.” When they uttered these words, all sorts of feelings welled up in my mind, and moments from the past fused together, gradually forming clear images. Amidst the roaring noise of the plane’s descent, I silently pledged: I will cultivate true strength within the realm of solitude. I choose independence over conformity, and I will leave my mark in this new land, for the sake of my parents and the values I have upheld for years. The next day, I wandered the streets of Melbourne alone, strolling by the Yarra River. I felt as though the familiar and unfamiliar were converging and intertwining within this city. As I walked past the ancient churches in solitude, I seemed to hear the passage of time, sensing a resemblance between this city and the old London depicted by Dickens. I walked for a long time, observing the city—nothing here

belonged to me yet, but soon it would. Years later, my soul would bear indelible imprints left by this city. Perhaps it’s my nature, but I am deeply enchanted by the powerful sense of solitude that this unfamiliar city brings me. I left behind everything familiar in my homeland, and here, I cannot find traces of the past. I have no friends, no relatives. Everything needs to be reconstructed. This loneliness, instilled by being a stranger in a foreign land, brings me joy because it is unlike any loneliness I have felt before; it is accompanied by hope. Over the past twenty years, I’ve been constantly surrounded by others, yet I’ve never escaped loneliness for I couldn’t find my kindred spirits. I could only feel that eternal, galactic loneliness that lies between heaven and earth. It’s a feeling that’s so cold and absolute. Now, I stand before an endless sea, and my loneliness isn’t rooted in an insolvable future; on the contrary, it’s because the future holds so many solutions, each of them elusive. Apart from striving to understand the nature bestowed upon my soul and diligently fulfilling what my nature demands of me, I am powerless. When I attempt to peer through the mist to discern the future, it’s like gazing into an abyss. Yet, I have reason to believe that as long as I bravely continue walking, even an abyss without a bottom will be transformed into a journey of boundless opportunities. This belief isn’t rooted in optimism; it’s born from my ability to sense hope. I know that in this

new land, I will encounter many experiences and people. I will stumble, experience pain and suffer, and due to my imperfect wisdom, I might even make mistakes. However, I fear nothing, for I embrace it all. I remind myself that everything happening here deepens my connection with this city, gradually leading to mutual acceptance. Before all this unfolds, I am a lonely guest; after each occurrence, I will unconsciously become the master. I recollect Mu Xin’s words, “I lived in New York for ten years, just wandering far.” Viewing my current situation, I see the profound meaning behind his statement. Many people’s growth is essentially a process of bidding farewell to their childhood and distancing themselves from their past. Ultimately, it’s a journey toward the distance. Some people find companions early on, while others can only walk alone. Some walk a short distance, quickly returning home; others walk so far that they can’t even find their way back. As I reflect on my twenty years in my homeland, it seems like a fleeting moment, and I’ve subconsciously lost those years. In Marcus Aurelius’s “Meditations,” he wrote that the only thing a person can lose is the present. How fleeting my present is! Perhaps with a mere blink, everything before me will disappear once again...

Artwork by Gunjan Ahluwalia

Micro-Plastic Past-Times

by Eleanore Arnold-Moore

Childhood is an ocean of plastic refusing to decay

sticky fingers staining the air cotton candy cellophane

sandcastles of silica beads gathering in my spidering veins polyester princess dress-ups persistent as wraiths

choking on highlighter kisses Blu-Stik-ed to my calendar day

polyethylene memories sugared with pink lemonade

can I dissolve the saccharine elastane stretching to fit my age?

can I recreate that synthetic escape?

one of three

by Cynda Beare

can i come over?

lay on your chest snore while you hold me watch a terrible movie

can i come over?

listen to you talk about danny and bianca on your dirty sheets that smell like sweat from the sex you didn’t have with me i’d like to come over at 1am

kiss you for a while til finally you’re tired you hold me and hold me breath gets heavy wake up next to you brush my teeth lie there til 12 then you’ll touch me til i cum i’ll be safe there my sweat in your sheets now

you said you’d touch yourself while thinking of me was that the truth?

or just something you say to all the bitches

all your lovers

are bianca and danny on your mind while your hand is down my pants? did you take us all to the white rabbit? buy us a drink, two minutes from your house, just the right amount of awkward which one of us sounds better moaning your name?

can i come over?

just to hear about your day snore on your chest live in a world where i’m attractive and fun and can make you cum a world where i don’t need to eat

where i’m busy and important and have to make time for you where i’m a cool guy a good girl a slut your slut fuck.

it’s raining outside it’d be nice to come over the white rabbit laughs as i walk past holding your umbrella wet hair no binder toothbrush in my bag either not real or the only thing that is one of three cool with it cause i’m a cool guy good girl slut

when i come over my body is mine so um can i?

The Process #1

by Xiaole Zhan

I think it began with the cranes

Begin with a square. Fold. Fold again. Be mindful— sometimes you can only move between heartbeats; even a fingertip’s tremor is too much. I think it began with the cranes. We made too many. You crouched in the corner, crane-snowed, & your hair crane-studded. & on the roof I watched you watch the birds & the moss & I remember it again now—you are kneeling in close and holding one of the spores in your hands and taking apart all the parts (so small you can only dissect it between heartbeats) & you tell me to look closer, my forehead touching the rim of your fringe, & closer, & I laughed into your eyes because your hair was like a shared umbrella & I don’t think about you much at all anymore. The memory now is spore-small— my heart would need to stop dead for me to see it clearly.

Omnis-phóbos (or) the fear of all:

Astrophobia, the fear of outer space

by Wildes Lawler

single malt foam

My father is on the moon with only a bottle of my tears; it is the driest place he knows. Phantasmic during the day, I have felt him push to get back to me. But now he has dragged me

out to his depths of sea foam—single malt. I find myself a crater so dark, my body distils out its colour. He finds his own and will not, cannot stop himself. He drinks the salt water of me. My father is holding on to the moon. I close my lids —it wanes. He is dropped into the bottomless black bottle.

Earth Discus

I would rather be Homer. To see the flatness of his Earth in itself, and truly believe in it. A ponderous discus, humming low and bird-light, flying from Odysseus’ hand. It is all balanced on its top: the powdered whiteness of fields and alps, blood poppies on meadows fertilised by war-bones, dark waters that spill over its edges to where light and life cannot reach. Suicidal blue whales, fishermen losing their nets. Because what is the alternative, a shot put? Both fly in infinite vastness, but for Homer’s Earth discus, at least there would be an end.

Things that sound like Pluto.

An ekphrasis on the sound wave activity of the dwarf planet.

The circulating fluid of a single egg left in a spruce tree, a half-twigged home.

The droning of a whale lost in something larger than itself, unaware the friend they’re crying to is made of metal.

A bell at noon in a thin-aired temple, heard on the other side of the world.

An unknown thing

calling from the bottom of an endless well; both frozen and dry.

My head when it leaves itself—the door hinges wide open for any voice to move in.

—Itself.

The Feeling The ‘Chasing That Feeling’ Diaries

by Helani Munidasa

Content warning: references to homophobia/queerphobia

my yet to come ‘24

Jun Choi peered out the window of his small room, watching the sky dance between erotic shades of yellow, pink and purple, before settling into a comfortable silent night, arranged for the lonely moon and the lonely moon only. It was winter in South Korea. In the suburban streets of Dae-gu, away from its busy, metropolitan city hustle, pink-haired Jun, his family, his neighbours, and their now-grown kids, awaited the quiet, the cold and yet so lovely winter snow.

Summer ‘23. It was summer in Melbourne right now. It was summer back home.

A wave of overwhelming rage took over the 21-year-old. He despised his parents most ardently for twisting his sense of reality, exhausting him, and forcing him to come back for the break to a winter hollow. He despised himself for surrendering to their concerns without explaining himself. Tired, he had given in. With words Jun’s anxiety could feast on, coated in the gentlest form of love, they’d made him come back to the streets of Dae-gu just to criticise him: his pretty, pink hair that had begun to fade faster in the last two months; his dear skirts, from maxi, to mini, to floral; his painted nails; the one subject he thought he would without a doubt fail, but survived with a score of 59—they criticised him. Tired, Jun gave in, and he regretted having to succumb to his parents’ wrath like this every time. They’d brought him back to a dark, empty abyss, where only cold snow fell. It dawned on him that he would not experience summer for the rest of the year. He loathed all of them. They took away summer from him. They took away Melbourne. He had given in, and they took away home.

He stared back at his laptop screen where an open Notion tab sat, showing the words he had typed not so long ago. His cursor blinked next to the simple, uncapitalised lettering: my yet to come '24. He thought of the sad person he had become in the last two months. He resented every bit of time that had purloined everything else he could have done, like being his authentic self and taking care of himself—without being discouraged every two seconds by the people around him. Fury continued to churn inside him, and it was overwhelming. Sighing, he proceeded to type away, tampering with the aesthetic elements Notion had to offer.

He opened Pinterest on a new tab and scrolled the “home” page. He found a post with an empty, dirty-white background with the words “His vibe is pretty” written on it.

He smiled, ever so faintly, at the image. There was hope. He saved it.

Settling on the Gallery View layout, he began organising his 2024 and his new year manifestations, typing: good grades–all H1s, self-care, and money-magnet. His mind started to wander, and he thought of seeing his favourite boy-band in two months. His spirits lifted. His brown, fox eyes gently formed into crescent moons. The world felt better all over again. He knew that the feeling that warmed the pit in his stomach would stretch upwards, blooming

in the centre of his beating heart. A mere journal manifestation would soon be made solid once he embraced the raw cheers of the crowd; the loud and upbeat music made for him and him only. The neon blue lights would paint hues of hope upon his skin as his five favourite people performed in front of him. He was hopeful that his best was yet to come.

Finally he added a section for journaling in his Notion page, titled: Daily Manifestations. He opened it as soon as it was created and began typing raw, unfiltered intentions, the sound of his fingertips clicking on his keyboard ever so satisfying.

Take control of your own life because it’s yours and yours only

Say “no”

I chase my own desires because it's my life, and I understand what brings me the greatest joy.

I stop listening to what everyone else tells me to do and what not to do

I am confident

I fought for my happiness and I keep fighting for it

There’s still hope. Within two months he had lost the confidence and independence that he had built up during his first year at university. He had been losing his grip on himself, but typing and saying the words out loud made him feel better.

He peered at the window again. The moon might be lonely tonight, but she was ever so beautiful. A crescent now, she had hope she would be a full, complete celestial being again.

Jun scrolled through his Pinterest once more.

“In my kaleidoscope are pressed butterflies, reminding me I’ve only one life.”

If that lyric was true, Jun was prepared to give the one life his all—ready, like the moon, to be whole again.

Jun Choi was ready to make 2024 his.

He was ready to chase that feeling.

One Unimelb Year

Semester 1: Week 1

by “blueandlilac”

I didn’t get to talk to you.

I watch as you stride up the lawn towards the tram stop on Swanston, the afternoon sun glaring in my eyes as I manage to trace your silhouette before it disappears off into the distance. I take a sip of water to try to cool down, slightly confused over where to go next. I hadn’t really been listening during the campus tour. I was too busy eavesdropping on you and the guy you were talking to. You mentioned that you were planning to major in graphic design just like I am, and then it took a few more glances for me to realise you were probably hot, though I just wished I put my contacts in this morning. It felt like I was too busy noticing you to even spatially comprehend where the different places the tour hosts showed us were.

I see you again when lining up for pancakes being given away near the precinct. Never have I thought much about fashion choices but damn, you make even the most boring vintage shirt look good. My friend since high school tells me we should go watch the shows at the lawn and I follow without protest. We get a spot in the shade under the trees and fan ourselves with the paper plates we’ve since finished eating from, arguing over whether heat waves or uni stress will end us first. Right in the corner of my eye, I catch you and your friends walking in our direction. You tell them a spot just a few metres in

front of us would be a decent place to sit, giving me a perfect opportunity to take a photo of the stage, just to have you in it.

I am dragged to some sort of club fair and the thought of what sort of club might suit you pops up in my head, but then I see you at the counter talking to the guys in the design club. Knowingly, my friend pressures me to go sign up but by the time we walk there, you’re already off somewhere else. They give us a free keychain and I try to give it to my friend, but she tells me to keep it. I stare at the lacquered blue logo before putting it in my pocket, wondering what to do with it.

What would I have even said to you? Would I have even tried to say hi?

I look at the cup of beer in my hand as someone tries to shout in my ear over the loud club music. Wait, why did I let myself get dragged to an O-week party that I already said no to? I’m so drunk that I also momentarily forget that I know him. He tells me that the rest of our group is sitting at the other corner of the floor. I try to make my way through the ocean of skinny jeans and hipster tops, but get stuck standing in front of a bunch of people jumping like it’s a rave. Bored, I end up looking at someone’s neck, scolding myself in my head that I’m so

goddamn drunk that everything reminds me of you. I sigh as I finally get to sit down and finish the rest of the cup, before spitting half of that sip back in. What the fuck, that person I was behind really was you. It’s almost as if the universe has a thing for taunting me, putting you right in front of me but knowing I’m too passive to do anything. The night goes on, between me having to shout conversations with my friends, and contenting myself with occasional glimpses of your face under the strobing lights. I think to myself that maybe I’m already starting this semester off in a bad way.

First week finally starts and I barely make it to my second lecture. I find a seat at the back of the hall, hiding myself in a hoodie that already smells like sweat from running. Wait, what? You take the same elective? My eyes go wide as you walk down the stairs at the other end, and I hurriedly look back at the front, shocked as you choose my row. The class starts and I fiddle with the keychain on my bottle, detesting the professor’s monotone voice putting me into nap mode if he’s gonna be like this for the rest of semester. Though if it was your voice, I’d be able to recall every single detail without fail. The keychain clinks onto the bottle as I put it down on the floor, and I decide to come to lectures if you’re gonna be here for them too. Shit, maybe I should just ask you a

question or strike up a conversation or something when class ends. I look at you, idly typing away on your laptop in the same Carhartt tee you had on the first day I saw you. Class ends and I try to pack up quickly before noticing that you’re already talking to someone in the row in front that borrowed a pen from you. Defeated, I decide it’d be too awkward for me to stay and wait until you finish, so I grab my stuff and let the seat flip back up, wondering to myself that…

I didn’t even get to talk to you the whole damn time.

Upset with myself, I start making my way out and— “Hey, is this yours?”

I realise it’s your voice and look back. There you are, standing a few steps away from me. Blinking incredulously a few times, I stare at the bottle in your hand, at the logo keychain dangling off the cap. The metal on it somehow seems to dazzle more than it originally did.

“Yeah, thanks,” I say while grabbing it back.

You smile at me, as if it was meant to be that you’d be the one to talk to me first.

God Stares Back

by Donna Ferdinando

Whose eyes are those, then? For this creature—haggard, cold, leering a grin mother’s warn their daughters about—cannot be anything of heaven. Not from the realm of seraphim and cherubim, of teetering harps and trumpets triumphant, has this creature embarked. Is it borne of sulphur and brimstone, then? Surely not, if it emerges from a painting meant to embody divinity itself. May it even be called a creature if its omnipotence, its role and presence, are decried by the title of the image itself? Its eyes coerce one to ponder on the question of its name, so blank are they of the glory and grace promised to saints and avenging angels. The light they emit is weak, like water sullied with murky soap.

Dylan Clark’s short film Portrait of God (2022) would drive my eighty-year-old grandmother into an aneurysm, so acute is its blasphemy. Clark’s portrayal of divinity is more like Lovecraft’s chthonic brainchildren than the Vatican frescoes. Having been raised Catholic, the convent schoolgirl part of me feels the urge to douse myself in holy water for daring to consider this work. But it’s just an urge, of course. Portrait of God begins with a young girl in a dark room, preparing a presentation on a painting. It is said that those who gaze at the blank, black painting glimpse a divine being, presumably God, emerging from its depths. They all have collectively described the sight as beauti

ful, trancelike, ethereal: a moment that transcends time and space itself. The girl wears a crucifix around her neck and she clutches it in her fist, knuckles white, as she searches the shadows of the painting for even a glimpse of a figure. She finds nothing. Upon her second rehearsal, however, the shadows begin to shift. Two pinpricks of light look back at her. The grey silhouette of a humanoid something emerges. It is grinning. The girl rolls up the projector backdrop but the silhouette and its eyes hang in the dusty air. A beat passes. It moves. In delightful contrast to the actions of horror protagonists before and after her, the girl sprints out of the room. However, in a seemingly endless dark space, the creature stands and approaches her. She turns her back to it, not unlike a child who hopes its fear of the dark will dissipate when hiding under its bed covers. Out of sight, out of mind, out of reality. The creature forces the girl to turn back and really look at it, its grin morphing into a gaping maw from which a beam of projector light emerges. Her pupils dilate, taking in as much of the light from the creature as they can. Then the darkness melts away, along with the creature and the beam of light, but her awed expression, the tears in her eyes, remains. She is standing in a brightly lit room with the Portrait of God before her

crucifix, still clutched in her fist, pierces her palm. The blood pools at the hollow of her wrist; when it reaches her cardigan, it stains blooms of red. I cannot fully empathise with the emotion evoked through Clark’s work. How can I, when I have never had to gaze at the physical manifestation of omnipotent divinity? How can I, when I have never witnessed a presence that makes you feel like you are the highest of the high, while also forcing you to acknowledge that you are the lowest of the low and better off crawling under a rock to hide? How can I even fathom the sensation of your stomach caving in on itself upon realising that your rose-coloured, white-robed seraphim is straight up nightmare fuel? What I can empathise with is that final state of inertia, where logic, rationality, locomotion and the laws of physics are made redundant. Being in the presence of something larger than life, larger than comprehension, is an awesome and terrifying experience, whether that be divine revelation, the discovery of a fossilised femur larger than your head, or being out at sea and realising that that shadow right under the waves is not, in fact, a shadow but the colossal body of a slow, stolid blue whale. In that little space of liminality created by the convergence of awesomeness and terror, all that exists is wide-eyed paralysis.

It is in that paralysis that the horror lies, coiled and ready to strike. It is coloured by an influx of realisations: that there exists a reality beyond our own and beyond our control; that our perspective is in fact a mere mirage borne of our brain and our spinal cord, one that is transitory and very much mortal; that the transition from being something to nothing, existence to non-existence, is an inevitable state; that even if resurrection is possible, the face you see may be that of a grinning spindly demon-creature rather than the glowing angelic hand that you have been ardently and unequivocally promised. There is, simply, no guarantee. And so you can only stand still and witness the show, lest one movement shatter the tenuous balance between dread and awe.

I can only hazard a guess as to what the girl does next. Maybe she stands there, for hours on end, stock still, witnessing something only she can see. Maybe she twitches and the trance is broken and she may resume her life, dried blood on her cardigan and a truly vicious scar on her palm. Or maybe, just perhaps, she moves on—one leg ahead of the other, hands grasping at her coat, her dishes, her car keys—going about the choreographed routines that make up her everyday existence, all the while knowing that she has left something of her mundanity well behind.

A postcolonial peak into Shakespearean worlds

by Claire Le Blond (Melbourne University Shakespeare Company)

I would be lying if I said I knew how he ended up in Melbourne. It’s unorthodox! Unofficial and unauthorised. Think of the paperwork. I have enough admin on my hands, and now he shows up in Naarm? It’s an unprecedented event for sure. Where to take the man?

Mayhaps Fitzroy for a quick peak behind the curtains into Melbourne’s queer nightlife?

Brunswick might suit him, or even South Lawn and then Swanston Street.

Or perhaps, to avoid the cyclists, a day out at the footy would do.

(I’m told that’s a big thing for Melbournians).

Everything else aside, I do know for certain that this is the first thing he needs to know.

“Mr? Sir—no, you were never knighted. So, a commoner … Your Shakey-ness? No.”

“Pray tell?”

“Alright then…”

William Shakespeare, do you understand the impact your legacy has had in this postcolonial world?

The thing about this hypothetical conversation is that I genuinely have no idea how Shakespeare would have responded. Beyond the wealth of his œuvre, there are many details surrounding the man’s life that are shrouded in mystery. The little we do know about Shakespeare is still debated, including how we spell his name, as Shakespeare’s England had no standardised spelling system at the time. Dear reader, this author must now address the elephant in the theatre: How do we approach Shakespeare in the postcolonial space?

We have to start by thinking about what postcolonialism means. The term itself is fraught with history, as the institutional, sociocultural, and economic impacts of the Western colonial empires are still prevalent today. Its cultural impact can be seen in how the Western canon is often viewed and taught as seminal works of a global literary archive. So, to approach Shakespeare in a postcolonial space, one should adopt a postcolonial perspective and make an effort to criticise these colonial imprints etched on Western literature. We must be ready to actively look outside of the canon as a deliberate decolonial affront to Eurocentrism.

Shakespeare comes into play here because we perceive Shakespeare’s work to be the pinnacle of Western literature.

If someone is well-versed in Shakespeare, they are viewed as “better”. In 1997 at the inaugural Festival of Dreaming, Australia’s first all-Indigenous Shakespeare production took place with Midsummer Night’s Dream. Its director, artist-activist Noel Tovey, had noted that “Shakespeare’s imperialist image as a conferrer of cultural value and artistic merit” is what garners the play such high regard and that having an all-Indigenous cast would cement this same

Content warnings: mentions of colonialism

cultural merit in his cast of First Nations actors. Prominent Nunukul and Ngugi director Wesley Enoch criticised this, questioning “the desire to prove [that] indigenous artists can act ‘as well as everyone else’ and advocates instead for a celebration of diverse theatrical styles and texts.” If an artistic endeavour emerges from within a Shakespearean context, it inherently has an aura of sophistication about it; that is an automatic association of Western work as being more “cultured” and refined. When we attribute more value to artistic participation that upholds the colonial imprints of the Western canon, we both consciously and unconsciously align ourselves with the imprints of colonialism and western elitism.

Let’s look at this in the Australian context. So-called Australia emerged from a settler-colony under the British Monarchy. Support for the monarchy has started to fall in recent years and as a staunch anti-monarchist myself, I agreed with Shakespeare when in Henry V he wrote: “The King is but a man, as I am… All his senses have but human conditions.”. The monarchy is a redundant colonial imprint that has no tangible use or meaning in today’s Australian context. Yet, it is what the country emerged from. The violent spread of Western ideals and ways of life invented the colonial Australia. That may not be Shakespeare’s fault, but we need to question the colonial imprints that place him on the pinnacle of the Western canon. This association is problematic as the ideas that emerge in such literature as the result of colonial spread are often considered to be universal. To be something that everyone can connect to. When we consider the question of universality, we have to ask why “universal” ideas are only respected if they come from the mouth of a white man?

This colonial universality in Shakespeare’s plays is largely complicated by the fact that Australia is also defined by its multiculturalism, a quality that doesn’t quite apply to Shakespeare’s literary worlds. I myself am keenly aware of the irony of being the child of a Eurasian father from Singapore and a Chinese mother from Malaysia, that is leading a Shakespearean Theatre Company on the unceded lands of the Wurundjeri Woi-Wurung and Bunurong people. I am leading adaptations of these same “universal” works while also living in a multicultural country that is still in the slow process of embracing that multiculturalism in the arts. For an example, according to a study conducted by Victoria University in 2018, “only 3 percent of all books were published by Australian First Nations authors, and only 7 percent were published by writers who identified as People of Colour.”. It is not untrue that Shakespeare’s themes, ideas, and stories have a universal resonance. It is also true, however, that this universality is upholding Western values over diverse cultural contexts that exist in a postcolonial Australia.

In Midsummer Night’s Dream, the fairy monarch’s fight is driven by the objectification of the unnamed Indian boy and the boy’s lack of agency is linked to concepts of orientalism and exoticism. Such colonial concepts persist in several texts from this period and continue to push forth a colonial narrative.

The 1997 Dream incorporated indigenous symbols to re-contextualise the play and to create new meanings in a First Nations context. It created a “dreamtime that is Aboriginal and also Shakespearean” and that was a manifestation of Shakespeare’s postcolonial future. So, thinking about Shakespeare in Melbourne, I think it’s a city suited to him in several ways. At the end of this reflection, what Shakespeare would answer to the question pales in its significance, considering the legacy of colonialism, especially in so-called Australia.

by Sebastian Moore

“Only you understand how much

“Only you understand how much you’ve succeeded or you’ve failed.” Joanna Murray-Smith on life as a playwright. Velvet blazer, white t-shirt, wet hair and tendrils of curly hair. Joanna Murray-Smith cuts an elegant path down Lygon Street towards me. In a way, I would expect nothing else. As a playwright, her oeuvre contains the same stylish quality as her dress. Though she might be writing about collapsed marriages, family secrets, and the presence of past atrocities, they are all set against a backdrop of educated and soigné civility. Since her debut work Honour, Murray-Smith has been one of the most important names in Australian theatre. Sitting in a nook at the back of a cafe in Carlton, we discussed life as an artist, the balance between craft and identity and the shifting landscape of theatre.

You’ve often quoted Graham Greene, saying “Within every writer, there is a chip of ice.” Do you think being an outsider is essential to being a writer?

I think it is inevitable. I don’t think you have a choice. So much of your life is about observing reality instead of being inside it. It’s very hard to live in the moment because there is a part of you outside the experience thinking this is the way people behave. The life of the writer is a very self-possessed one. Your working life is alone. Even though you’re drawing on life in a complex way, it is a lonely activity. Then, of course, the experience of being received is also lonely. When you start being criticised, people react. Only you understand the gap between how people receive how you write and what your intention was. In other words, only you understand how much you’ve succeeded or you’ve failed. I think that is lonely. When Julia was just on in Sydney, it was a very popular play and people were saying great things to me. People say you must be so happy, but really, there’s always a part of you saying “This is what I wanted, and this is what I got.” It’s not always as aligned as people think.

You achieved an immense amount of success at a relatively young age with your play Honour. How do you feel about the earlier works in your career?

Your feelings about what you’ve created keep changing over time. I find it very hard to read earlier plays. I don’t

want to remember what I’ve done before, because it is inviting my self-criticism. There is a reckoning right after something has been published or performed. There is a very difficult accounting of one’s cleverness and inadequacy. That is the recipe for the writing mentality – because you have enough ego to think it’s worth anyone’s while and enough humility to recognise things could be better.

The day-to-day work of writers is so different. Some writers wake early and spend hours at their desks. Others scribble away in notebooks on the tram. How do you go about writing?

It’s completely haphazard. It always has been. I write whenever I can unless I designate a particular period when I feel bored of myself. That’s when I need to absorb more — I read more, see movies and plays, travel, and meet people. I spent three months in Paris. I had lots of work I could do, but I realised it was better for that work to be stimulated by other things. Inevitably when I do that, the period after is very productive. But, at the same time, I’m conscious that I will never be able to write everything I want to write before I die.

Does the knowledge that you have a finite amount of stories that can be told scare you?

We’re young for so long now. What has been good for me is that in the last ten years, I have taken my writing far less seriously. I no longer feel as though I have to be a global sensation. I realised that the anxiety that was being absorbed in my status was using up valuable time for writing. In the process of accepting that everything will end, everything leading up to the end becomes more important. There is a payoff to facing your mortality.

How has your writing changed? You mentioned that you don’t particularly like to revisit your older plays. What has changed to cause that?

It’s partly about how the world of theatre has changed around me. Many plays I’ve written were written when theatre companies were more or less prepared to commission me to write the play I wanted. Now, the theatre companies have shifted generationally. The artistic directors are all younger, and their tastes have changed. They still want me to write, but they are more prescriptive

much you’ve succeeded or you’ve failed.”

about what they want me to write. The shift in taste has been about plays that are easier to market, which means selling an idea that is easier to comprehend than most dramas. Kind of imaginative works of art. For instance, It’s easier to sell a play about Julia Gillard’s misogyny speech. It’s easier to write a play about a historical event or a social issue. I have resisted that because I don’t want to write those plays. But as it happened with Julia and another play at the Milwaukee Rep, they brought me ideas. I said I don’t write to other people’s ideas, but I’m prepared to think about it. Then, when thinking about those ideas, I found I was interested. In some ways, the play for Milwaukee was one of the best pieces of writing I had ever done. That did not begin with my idea. It began with their idea. I have become by necessity more receptive to other people igniting the idea, and more open to the idea of writing different kinds of plays than straight dramas. But at the same time, I lament that if Chekhov was trying to get commissioned now, he would never if he was saying “I want to write a play about three sisters trying to get to Moscow, you know.” It just wouldn’t happen, because it’s not about feminism or refugees. It’s not about a particular historical moment. It’s hard to sell straight dramas.

What do you think of the independent theatre world?

I think it’s never been more necessary. The mainstream theatre companies are so straight-jacketed by all sorts of things. They have so many hats to wear. Within their season they have to support new Australian writings, classics, something on the school curriculum, something that’s the talk of the town. There is such an algebra to what the main companies are doing that it’s the independent theatre that is doing the hard work of developing new voices and giving all writers the opportunities for new writers to get their work performed.

You mentioned that Switzerland could be developed for the screen in an interview. Can you tell us more about the adaptation?

I just met the director in Paris. The director is Anton Corbyn, who made a film that I always adored called Control about Joy Division. Charming man, very intelligent, very European. Helen Mirren will be playing Patricia Highsmith and they are casting the young

man. They are shooting in Italy or Switzerland. I’ve just been looking at the various potential locations. Screenwriting is a lot of fun, I love doing it. But it’s also absolutely dogged by endless frustrations by the writer, not least of which is that the writer is not considered important in the grand scheme of things. Of course, the rehearsal room is completely different. In the rehearsal room, the word of the playwright is god, and everyone wants to please the playwright.

What then is the necessary art of our time? Is it in the hands of the marketing departments or the artists? What is the imperative to write?

There is always an imperative to write. On the weekend I started writing a play for fun because I had an idea and I thought it could be a fun little play to write. …. The imperative is always there. Does the world need me to write? No. But that said, I am pleased that I did write Julia. It wasn’t until after that I realised what a need there was for that play in terms of an audience wanting an entertaining and thoughtful recognition of that event. I mean, I think that the most important thing is that artists keep dreaming of ways to tell stories that are reflective of the world they live in and that there is a place for those stories to be told. … It’s hard to make a living. It’s hard to talk people into doing the plays, and it’s hard to discipline yourselves. It’s hard to manage the zeitgeist pressures of what plays are fashionable — if you are not writing those plays, is there a place for you in the theatre world? All those things are incredibly difficult.

The coffee cups are empty on the table, and the conversation traverses other territories. We talk about the films we love and the books we are reading. Recommendations are exchanged. We both rise from the table at the back of the cafe and step out onto the street. After shaking hands, and Joanna wishing me the best of luck on the story, a final thread of a sentence lingers. It stays with me.

“Your big job now is working out what makes your heart beat faster.”

My First Vibrator: A Love Story

by Zoe Quinn

I bought my first vibrator after a very disappointing hookup with a Tinder guy. He picked me up in his Tesla (I’m only adding this detail because I didn’t know how to open his car door and it was super embarrassing), told me his parents weren’t letting him go to Bali anymore because he totaled nine cars while driving high, finished in 5 minutes and then drove me home. I went inside, laughed, cried, journalled and called my friends to tell them I was taking a vow of celibacy and never opening Tinder ever again. The usual routine. And then I bought a vibrator. It came in the mail a few days later—thankfully, in subtle packaging. Yellow, waterproof and oh so flexible. A Demi Wand. My Demi Wand. We fell in love quickly and beautifully. My new nine speed, battery operated boyfriend and I were a perfect match. As someone who grew up with a Catholic school education, the topic of sex was very taboo for me. We learned the classics—safe sex is abstinence, having sex before marriage makes you a whore, etc. etc. Masturbation? Disgusting. As I got older and the internet and my peers became my teachers, I learned a new message; sex is fun and masturbation jokes are super funny, but only if you’re a man. Men get to be unapologetic and upfront about their sexuality while women are expected to hide theirs like a shameful, embarrassing secret. I listened to my friends discuss how long they should wait to sleep with a boy and what they should pretend their body count is in order to protect their reputations in our small, gossipy town. All while being painfully aware that the boys we knew were definitely not having those same conversations. I watched everyone laugh along with male comics when they made jokes about their sex lives while women were being called crass or inappropriate for saying the exact same things. Because of this, my first sexual expe

riences revolved around performance. I worried about the way I looked, the way I sounded, every movement. I tried desperately to be good in bed for boys who wouldn’t even be able to find my clit if it glowed in the dark. I never took the time to think about what I wanted. It was something I was doing for another person, never for myself. My vibrator changed my entire perspective on sex. With the removal of penises and the power dynamics that can come alongside them, I was able to kick back and enjoy my new Demi Wand in the sanctuary of my bedroom. No more navy—who knows when they were last washed—sheets! It was freedom and it was fun. I think that the widespread success of this sex toy comes (pun intended) from more than just a desire to actually orgasm. I think it connects to a deeper sense of bodily empowerment and a way to divert from the typical heteronormative roles of sexual relationships. However, there has been contention, especially amongst the queer community, on the phallic shape of many sex toys including vibrators. Some believe it is a tired and unnecessary reflection of the patriarchy and upholds the notion that sex is just penetration, while others contend it is actually a subversion of the expected power of a man and his penis. It’s like saying, “Screw your penis, we can buy our own and we can buy it in a fun colour, like hot pink.” Regardless, vibrators have generated a sex positive and thoughtful dialogue for both queer and straight people looking to change the classic narratives of sex. Besides, they now come in a variety of shapes and sizes, so you can find whatever you are looking for.

While the first electromagnetic vibrator was invented in 1880, the cordless electric vibrator that we know and love didn’t hit the market until the 1960s. This second wave of commercialised

vibrators was brought by the second wave of feminism and reflected a growing shift in mainstream culture. It was a time of liberation for women—socially, financially, politically and sexually. In many ways these little handheld tools were a symbol of the era, an emblem of freedom and empowerment. Women had just as much of a right to pleasure as men did and they didn’t need a husband to help them get there. And with all the stress of fighting for their basic rights, they probably wanted to relax with a wank every once in a while. The stigma of female masturbation continued to reduce more and more through increased references in popular culture and western media. It became cool to be an independent, self-sufficient woman who took her sexuality into her own hands (or fingers, or electronic devices). Since then, vibrators have remained a widely enjoyed tool, easy to purchase through a simple google search. My stint with celibacy came and went, as it tends to do, but my trusty vibrator has remained by my bedside. Sometimes we spend countless passionate nights together and other times we don’t even share the same bed, but we will always be lovers. It marked a period in my life of growth and learning. A time period when I, just like my ‘60s feminist icons, realised how much empowerment can come from the simple act of separating pleasure from shame. Also, if I want something done right, sometimes I just have to do it myself. In the past couple of years I’ve had good sex, bad sex, and most commonly, forgettable sex. But I’ve done it all on my own terms instead of someone else’s. Whether it’s a vibrator, the two finger dj method, or maybe even a stray couch cushion, take the time to love and understand your own body before you let someone else inside. We can all find ourselves, one orgasm at a time.

Content warning for violence, colonialism, bigotry, and abuses committed by the criminal justice system

Spoilers for the anime and manga series Pluto

Narratives of Revenge

by Rashdan Mahmood

Revenge has been on my mind.

Not against anyone, to be clear. It’s just that it’s difficult not to think about revenge. It’s a common focus in the stories we create about people and their violent acts, whether constructed in fictional worlds, or interpreted from real-world events.

Revenge is the harm inflicted in response to received harm. Person A hurts Person B, so Person B hurts Person A back. However, beyond mere definitions, revenge is also a narrative we are conditioned to feel a certain way about. Chiefly, revenge is sympathetic, yet inexcusable.

“I wanted justice, and took it with my own hands.”

It’s an easy explanation to understand. But it’s a justification that must be condemned.

“You took it in your own hands, and you took it too far.”

I recently watched the anime adaptation of Naoki Urasawa’s sci-fi murder mystery Pluto, where revenge is a central thread in the story’s tapestry. The main antagonists are victims of an invasion initiated by the “United States of Thracia” against the “Republic of Persia,” devastating Persia and its population. Said invasion was enacted over false claims that Persia was producing “robots of mass destruction.” The antagonists seek retribution against Thracia and its allies during the war, without consideration for who else gets hurt in the process.

This is, of course, a direct parallel to the U.S. invasion of Iraq and the resultant Iraq War. Just replace “robots” with “weapons.” Pluto was serialised on the pulse of the conflict, starting in September 2003, a few months after the initial invasion concluded in May. The manga’s chapters would continue being published as the Iraq War progressed, though it concluded over two years before the War did.

The Iraq War was another part of America’s “War on Terror” campaign, a reaction to the events of 9/11. Determining if or to what degree the War on Terror was motivated by an “actual” desire for revenge is beyond the scope of this article (though it is notable there is no equivalent to 9/11 in Pluto, which characterises Thracia as more explicitly imperialistic in its motives). The fact is that revenge was the narrative sold to justify the initiative. It was simply packaged as “justice.”

What is the difference between revenge and justice? It’s an uncomfortable question to ask, because justice, like revenge, is reactive and (in our current world) punitive. The difference comes from how the terms are characterised. Acts of justice require neither excuses, nor sympathy. It is simply right. That’s how criminal justice systems want to be seen. Right in their judgement and their punishment of wrongdoing. Despite any and all evidence that said punishments don’t work in their efforts to stop the perpetration of crimes.

The state doesn’t take revenge. It delivers justice. If you try to deliver justice without the state’s approval, that’s revenge.

However, characterising the state’s violence as revenge or justice is irrelevant. I call it what it is. Cruelty, plain and simple.

In the first, and only good episode of 2017’s adaptation of Kino’s Journey – the Beautiful World, our titular character finds themselves in a country where people are allowed to kill each other. Contrary to expectations, the citizens are peaceful and kind. Most of the episode has Kino interacting with and befriending them.

However, another traveller, excited at the prospect of killing without repercussions, draws his gun on Kino. However, before he can shoot, the people all brandish weapons and stop him. It becomes clear that while murder is not prohibited by any laws, it is not permitted by the values held by the people. They will kill anyone who’d try to murder another person in their country.

This episode depicts justice that isn’t under the purview of state institutions like the police or military. It is the citizens who agree on this form of justice and enact it collectively. However, were it enacted in our real-world, it would probably be called unjustified revenge.

Now, I’m not advocating for this type of violent justice in our world. Frankly, once the citizens have the perpetrator pinned down, there’s little reason they need to kill him. But real-world justice and carceral systems in the real-world are hardly less violent, including those that have abolished the death penalty. The convicted (perpetrators or not) are kept in torturous conditions, subject to abuse and forced to do labour with little to no compensation. And that’s without addressing deaths in custody, whether acts of negligence or deliberately perpetrated.

Moreover, when the imprisoned are members of marginalised communities and identities, injustices compound. Indeed, even when we aren’t behind bars, none of us are liberated in a world of imperialist, colonialist, capitalist states. What happens when the marginalised fight back? Recall that revenge is a narrative, and that narratives are written. It is in the state’s interests to portray desires for its disestablishment as violent, unfocused revenge. Conservatives castigate the “inexcusable” actions of those who make enemies of the state. Liberals condescend with “sympathy” for the “reasonable ones” before condemning those who “go too far.” Both cherry pick the most violent among the marginalised to justify brutal violence against us. Cruelty packaged as revenge packaged as justice.

For as much as I enjoyed it, the ultimate fate of Pluto’s antagonists left me somewhat unsatisfied. One suffers a death of personality, becoming a weapon of mass destruction. The other enacts a redemptive sacrifice to stop it. There is no comeuppance for Thracia. There are no depictions of legitimate, effective movements to dismantle the state responsible for the suffering faced by the antagonists and their people.

One might say, that’s beyond the scope of Pluto’s story. I’d be inclined to agree. But I’m left asking questions. If the antagonists’ use of violence was “revenge,” then what does proper “justice” look like? Can it be violent? And if not, why not?

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Beating the Nostalgia Pinata: Why the Eras Tour Ruined Taylor Swift For Me

By Ledya Khamou

In 2012, I used to come home from third grade every day and watch fan-made lyric videos of Taylor Swift songs. I would have done anything to see her in concert. Now, in 2024, I roll my eyes and scroll past every Taylor Swift headline about the Eras Tour on my feed.

The Eras Tour commenced in 2023 during a time of unfathomable fame for Taylor Swift. Within a brutal three-hour runtime, Swift guides the audience through a time capsule of her catalog. The entire nostalgic sentiment of the Eras Tour is tied to a specifically Swift-ian meta universe. Taylor Swift professed in a 2023 interview with The Washington Post that she loves leaving “elaborate hints (and) Easter eggs” for fans as she goads the audience to constantly rehash their shared history. In the audience, tax-paying adults who grew up with Taylor Swift hand out friendship bracelets (a reference to a lyric from ‘You’re On Your Own Kid’), and dress up in elaborate costumes (the lime-green dog from ‘The Last Great American Dynasty’ is a noted outfit). Taylor Swift beats the pinata of her career over and over (with the ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ baseball bat, if you will), until the candy of nostalgia bursts out in tickets, in merch sales, in the constant regeneration of celebrity.

Cashing in on nostalgia is not a new business model or strategy. In Hollywood, we are seeing the perpetuity of remakes, reboots and biopics of famous figures, a constant re-diving into the past. As Cosmopolitan culture writer Daniella Scott points out, reboots and remakes come with a “ready-made audience” which studio executives “can capitalise on…while tapping into the feeling of nostalgia we’re all so readily intoxicated by”.

But there is something inherently cheap and tacky about nostalgia, even in discussing its perks: “ready-made” like a frozen lasagna, “intoxicated by” as in duped, tricked, seduced and restricted. Nostalgia is easy, unchallenging, and wholly unrevolutionary. Journalist Simon Reynolds in his thought-

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piece Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to its Own Past argues that our involvement with nostalgia becomes “necrophiliac”, in that “we can’t get past the past”. Steeped in our own narcissistic filth, we cannot create anything original or unique—everything becomes empty. Specifically, inorganic nostalgia, when farmed to make money, works in the other direction. The heartwarming aspects of nostalgia are rooted in spontaneity and briefness, like hearing the opening jingle of Play School, or falling into “remember when” conversations with an old friend. When Taylor Swift struts onstage with her Koi fish guitar and sings ‘Long Live’, I don’t feel nostalgic, I feel cheated. I know what she’s doing, and I know that it’s working.

The North American leg of the Eras Tour massed $1.04 billion within 60 tour dates. Swift has been commended for singlehandedly boosting the economy in every US state she performs in, as Bloomberg Businessweek famously announced that “Taylor Swift is the music industry”. In a Northeastern Global News article about the ‘Swiftonomics’ of the tour, Nada Sanders, a professor of supply chain management, says that “The Taylor Swift brand cannot allow any disruption on the tour”. Sanders dubs the tour a “major supply chain management feat (wherein) every piece has to arrive on time”. In that sense, the Eras Tour, now stretching into 2025 with added dates as “encores”, has morphed into a money-boosting business endeavour more than anything.

In 2023, for the first time in my decade-long conviction as a Swiftie, I found that it was no longer about the music. Taylor Swift is not interested in making new music, in finding future inspiration, in innovating anything other than the amount of revenue she can produce.

On a cultural level, Swift’s insistence on elongating the Eras Tour contributes to the spectacle of nostalgia as a restrictive measure on original art. And on a more specific

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level, I cannot help but worry about the impact of Swift locking herself inside an echo chamber of her own past. Taylor Swift’s emotive songwriting is the main reason she was my favourite artist (see: the fan-made lyric videos). I found that Swift had the marks of a great songwriter not in her most overtly spectacular tracks, like ‘Enchant ed’ or ‘Ivy’, but rather in her quieter moments. To this day, I’m left winded by stray lines from her deeper cuts (“You played in bars, you play guitar” from ‘Superstar’, of all songs, makes me want to weep). I find that the Eras Tour, wrapped in the rearview mirror of nostalgia, colours Swift’s most vulnerable songs with the glossy shimmer of irony. ‘Dear John’ becomes a snarky punchline; the red scarf in ‘All Too Well’ is meme-ified. The Eras Tour emp ties the nuance of Swift’s artistry for the sake of spectacle. In our contemporary post-capitalist culture, which breeds cheap entertainment, artists achieve success by be coming brands. They need to advertise their work like prod ucts, and settle for cheap streaming instead. Taylor Swift has the power to invoke change within the money-hungry, exploitative industry—we’ve witnessed her means to sup port smaller artists by removing her catalog from Spotify in 2014 to advocate for artists to be paid more in stream ing. However, I find that, in becoming the music indus try, Swift has morphed into the very exploitative machine itself—it should be noted that Swift reinstated her music onto Spotify after her album 1989 sold ten million copies. Perhaps it’s my fault for expecting billion aire businesswoman Taylor Swift to be above the money and glitter of the status quo, the same sta tus quo which has fostered her entire career. In her polarising 2023 TIME Person of the Year feature, Swift ends her interview with a question to you, the reader: “Are you not entertained?” I felt this line like a nail in the coffin, a full-stop to my idolisation of Swift. Taylor Swift is primarily an entertainer, a celebrity, a brand for you to con sume—she’s a songwriter somewhere else down the line.

Image source: The West Australia

Taylor Swift

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Content warnings: mentions of mental illness, suicide, eating disorders, body dysmorphia and death.

I am in a Parasocial Relationship with my Favourite Sick Girl

by Aroma Imran

About a month and a half ago, I finished reading The Virgin Suicides and ever since, I have been completely and utterly incapable of making it through another book. Yes, I have read a chapter of something here and there, flicked over something in a magazine, and read the back of some very interesting shampoo bottles, but it is just not the same. I want to be able to tear through a book again—maybe a thriller, a slow romance, or maybe a classic! But the images of girls doing terrible gorey things and dying horrible deaths will not leave my mind. I am sick. I am so sick of sick girls getting into my head, eating away at my brain, consuming the flesh, leaving me disgustingly and madly obsessed with them. Why am I—no, why are we—so obsessed with the ‘sick girl’?

As I read, I wonder if I am fundamentally bad. I question why I find myself relating to the characters so much. Bunny’s Samantha, The Virgin Suicides’ Lux, and The Bell Jar’s Esther were all me and I was all of them at some point. I wonder if these characters’ actions, worst personality traits, and deepest fears are akin to mine. Their actions are so monumental and so earth-shattering that my character lapses suddenly seem so minuscule. After all, wasn’t everyone 13, 14 and 15 once? I felt the world was crumbling around my feet. Didn’t you? The Lisbon sisters understood me in their sad haze. We were all confined to our rooms once, cursed to walk those wretched hallways and watch our disfigured bodies deteriorate in the mottled mirrors. Like voyeurs, we watched the Lisbon sisters take their lives and for a second, wondered if it was us instead. We wondered what it would have been like if we had just given up when we were 16 and 17. The Lisbon sisters came to us as an answer to our more twisted thoughts. Of course, things might have gotten better for me and you; our frontal lobes developed, life suddenly got very real, and perhaps everything melted away. However, the Lisbon sis

ters are stuck in purgatory, confined within the pages of a book, and while we will be something else, they will always be sick girls. So, we read to understand them and obsess to comfort ourselves. They wrap around us like a mother’s bosom and rock us till we fall asleep. Do sisters know so much about each other? I look at my sister and I wonder who she is, who she was, and who she will be. My favourite character in my favourite book spills her deepest secrets to me. She’s told me about her first sexual experience, her darkest desires, and the trauma her mother handed her like a gift. She twists her words so sweetly, and I want to be in the pages of a book with her. Is that the root of my obsession? I wonder, if I knew every thought that passes through my sister’s beautiful head—if I knew every rage, joy, and intrusive feeling—would I be obsessed with her too? However, it is a double-edged sword. These girls’ aversion to privacy is what makes them sick. They tell me too much sometimes and I wish they would just shut up. I love her but she should not have done that. That is how I feel about my sister sometimes. After all, my favourite sick girls are my sisters and as an extension, their authors are too. Sometimes our obsession with sick girls bleeds out of the fictitious pages and into the real world. Esther Greenwood’s slow deterioration through The Bell Jar felt as if it were my own. She is my sister slowly rotting away and she is me slowly drowning, losing oxygen. The novel acts as a prophetic oracle through which Plath speaks of her own depression. Head in the oven, Plath died and, in her wake, left behind her children, a book, and a cultlike fanbase of sick girls. With obsession comes this inane idea that we are ‘owed’ something for the words and actions our Godly writers bestow upon us mortals. When the curtains of their lives are pulled hastily and the doors slam shut across our expectant faces, we begin to draw our own conclusions on their work, their relationships

and their moments before death. We get a fig tree tattooed on our arms, tear through the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and make poetry of her death. Plath died of asphyxiation but stuffed sheets between the gaps in her children’s bedroom door—left bread and milk for them so when they woke eventually, they could eat. Such a good mother! Holy mother! Fig trees! We guess and guess and analyse and hyper-fixate to the point where we re-enact her death—we put our heads in the cold oven, bid farewell to our non-existent children and wonder what it was like.

This obsessive perversion toward sick girls, sick authors, and sickness itself is leading us into a parasociality. We find romance in sickness; in drugged-up girls sleeping and rotting away for a year. Yes, she may be depressed, but she is pretty and so, so skinny. We crave our own year of rest and relaxation. We shut our blinds, lay under the covers, take secret swigs of vodka, read every sick girl manifesto and make Pinterest board upon Pinterest board. Skinny, pretty girl, My Year of Rest and Relaxation aesthetic, dead girl, coquette, cigarette aesthetic, gross girl, gore girl, sick girl. I sit amongst piles of tornup pages and question the state of my room, my life and myself. I ask: am I bad? I haven’t left my room in days and I have forgotten my real sister. My head is covered in blood, underwater, lodged into ovens and in the middle of a book. I have become her.

Works mentioned:

Awad, Mona. Bunny. United Kingdom: Head of Zeus Ltd., 2019. Eugenides, Jeffery. The Virgin Suicides. London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 1993.

Moshfegh, Ottessa. My Year of Rest and Relaxation. Great Britain: Jonathan Cape, 2018.

Plath, Sylvia. The Bell Jar. London: Faber and Faber Limited. 1966.

cô là gì ạ? Con tên là Hannah Cho con hỏi siêu thị gần nhất ở

FAR OUT! RIGHT WHAT ARE YOU GETTING

Con gốc Việt nhưng sinh ra

by Elizabeth Pham

Half-Fluent In Vietnamese

Saying you’re alright with never feeling wholly Vietnamese feels like telling yourself you don’t miss your dad when he’s on business overseas. But when he’s back, you hug him with tears welling up but never falling because he’s said missing someone doesn’t bring them back faster, so what’s the use of missing? And you want to ask him if you miss Vietnam hard enough, could you bring back your childhood? I wish to rewind my childhood so I could devote time to reading Nguyễn Nhật Ánh’s coming-of-age books instead of pensive Tumblr posts that reminded me of the New Zealand I had freshly left behind. I thought a bridge between my Vietnamese and New Zealand identity would be doing voluntary translation work. But I soon came to realise that I felt more comfortable translating Vietnamese to English rather than English to Vietnamese. I could display the nuances of English but not capture the spirit of the Vietnamese language.

I’ve lost sleep over the many ways to translate “I” in Vietnamese. Mình sounds like something I’d see in a middle schooler’s maths textbook, whereas tôi sounds too formal, bordering on self-importance. Tớ is perhaps the safest but the most childlike, or is used to talk to people you’ve just met, and tao is reserved for either close friends or people you trade verbal blows with. My classmates transitioned from tớ to tao when we moved from grade five to six, yet I was forever stuck in my old ways.

ARE YOU

UP TO Thread in a Tapestry: How I Cope With Being

TALKING ABOUT YEAH,NAH. I'MFROMNEW ZEALAND

GOTANY SNAGS? THE BEE FLIES ANYWAY

Even with close friends, I either used our names at the risk of sounding like Elmo, or I acknowledged that they were most likely accommodating me by using tớ. I wanted to accommodate them too but tao just felt so jarring to me that I constantly felt the compulsion to wait for the taste of the word to subside. My pause each time I said the word was noticeable for me, and probably for my friends as well. I felt like I was sucking all the fun out of our conversations. This eventually gave rise to my (incorrect) mindset that it was better to be misunderstood of my own doing than to try and still be lost in translation. I occasionally expressed my frustrations to my mother. She’d always tell me to translate the general feeling of the sentence rather than to translate them wordby-word. I wanted to tell her I couldn’t translate the gist of it if I couldn’t even grasp the rhythm and flow of the language. This was not for lack of trying on my family’s part; my mother has always loved Vietnamese literature, so naturally, every sentence said at the dinner table sounded like a proverb. To our disappointment, I could only appreciate the artwork’s beauty but not recreate it. When I talk to native Vietnamese speakers, they’ll always ask if I grew up abroad. Have I spent seven transformative years of my life in Hanoi just to have a Vietnamese not good enough to show? What makes me sound lơ lớ? I think it was the tones that didn’t quite hit or the choppy slow pace I’d speak to make sure they

ANYWAY

ARE YEAH,NAH.

HOME'S DOWN THE STREET

Con chào cô, cô khỏe không Tên cô là gì ạ? Con tên là Hannah ạ. Cho con hỏi siêu thị gần nhất đâu ạ? Cho con đặt bánh mì thịt ạ. Con gốc Việt nhưng sinh lớn lên ở New Zealand và vừa

Việt Nam ạ. Cô có biết một tiếng Anh không ạ? Con không biết từ này trong tiếng Việt

were proper. They don’t even need to hear my tones to know I felt foreign—just the way I round my “uhm” compared to my mother’s flatter ừm gives me away. My English is tinged with an unidentified accent as well. “Fluent in English and Vietnamese” sits uncomfortably on my CV. “Fluent” doesn’t quite encompass it, but neither does “native speaker”. I sometimes joke that my English is better than my Vietnamese, but over the years, it’s become more of a statement than a joke. I recognise that it’s a privilege to speak two languages, though I just wish I spoke either language like a native speaker so I could have a sense that I belong. The times when I did feel like I had a place in the language were when I shared the language with others. I enjoyed exchanging words with my friend who had a Southern dialect that differed from my Northern one. It was our very difference in accents that was our source of joy. She joked that I wasn’t respecting the elderly (her being a year older) as her dạ that led a sentence was my ạ that finished a sentence, which often blended in with the word before it. Her dialect was lighter. Her hỏi and ngã tones almost sound the same, and her sắc had a more piercing quality to it. We would have bonded regardless, but the underlying fascination we had for each other’s dialect laid a solid foundation for our friendship. In the same way that I found joy in these differences, I was drawn to YouTube videos that compared

Mandarin, Cantonese, and Vietnamese—the unknowns complimented the knowns. There were just enough similarities between these languages for me to struggle to identify whether the grandpa on the noisy bus was speaking Cantonese or in a heavy Southern Vietnamese dialect. Still, there were also just enough differences for me to fall down the rabbit-hole of how these languages evolved. Despite both languages being influenced by Middle Chinese, Cantonese was in the Sino-Tibetan family, while Vietnamese was in the Austroasiatic family because it kept some of its pre-existing Proto-Viet-Muong features. The Middle Chinese genes still come through in the two languages though: my Chinese and Malaysian friends noted Elsa sounded Cantonese while watching the Vietnamese dub of ‘Let It Go’. I have accepted that there is no straightforward solution to my complicated relationship with the Vietnamese language. However, I have found the closest thing to a solution being surrounded by the cultural diversity in Melbourne. My awareness of cousin languages and friendships formed from our divergences put my Vietnamese in the grand scheme of languages. I may still struggle with wholly grasping Vietnamese, but I feel soothed knowing that I’m a part of one big network of languages that are so deeply entwined with one another.

Eazy Sleazy: The Definitive 2000s Indie Mixtape

by Dom Lepore

Travel back in time with the classic songs that soundtracked excess.

PREFACE

Most aesthetics are indisputably linked to music. A special beauty is evoked when listening to songs so strongly associated with a cultural moment, as they are so deeply engraved in its simulacrum. Retrospections of indie sleaze reveal it was nothing short of chaotic spontaneity. Dodgy Polaroid self-portraits, side-swept bangs, perpetually smudged lipstick and eyeliner; essentially, the hipster reigned supreme. Dressing with a hint of opulence, while owning an IDGAF attitude, meant you were ‘in’ with the times. It was cool to look camp.

Do you know what was the backbone for that?

The crazy, overcompressed bit-heavy electropop, and decadent electric indie rock that crossed hyper-niche musical borders, all of which stuck as indie sleaze’s staple soundtrack. These ‘cool’ songs were distributed through Tumblr, MySpace, and music blogs, the latter now a struggling art form following the tragic unfolding of pivotal counterculture mag Pitchfork into the macho GQ. Despite this media setback, the aesthetic’s apparent comeback has also seen the music dominating the parties of the late 2000s become widely celebrated once more. Music festivals such as America’s Just Like Heaven have brought back the big names that scored these maximalist dance parties: Phoenix, Passion Pit, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, M83, and MGMT are just some on the roster. That, and the recent discourse substantiating the aesthetic’s revival, must be more than enough.

As we’re ageing into adulthood, perhaps what we need is a bolt of optimism to strike our lives, making us feel a blissful naivety once more. With the aforementioned artists remaining active since indie sleaze’s initial dissipation, it’s almost as if the aesthetic never really faded. More people than ever are in the know, thanks to TikTok distributing these hits to new generations, who weren’t even there for its heyday. The 2000s–era and its smattering of mashed up indie, disco, and electro rave doused in a vaguely ‘70s–80s throwback is still of interest. Its continued admiration has formed a new kind of indiedom within itself, with younger generations seizing its novelty, and those older—there in the moment—owning it once more. So, to revel in this kitschy nostalgia, here’s a musical time capsule curating the party iPod’s very best dancefloor anthems that made the roofs of those parties explode.

‘Dance Yrself Clean’ (LCD Soundsystem)

If there’s one sure-fire way to kick off a party, it’s with LCD Soundsystem’s most cleverfully boisterous song. Opening quietly, this portion emulates the trickling of keen guests into the home of whoever’s hosting the function, as they discover through friends that a party not to miss is already underway. Bandleader James Murphy emerges by mutedly humming beneath tinny hand claps. Then, unsuspectingly, as if welcoming everyone for finally rocking up, the beat drops. The party livens up as a sudden surge of synthesisers pummel your eardrums while you dance all over the place in the best way possible—without a care in the world. Murphy makes a profound call to arms as he vigor

ously holds his notes: ‘Put your little feet down / And hang out!’ Fit for any party’s initiation—or conclusion, when everyone’s living on one last sliver of energy—this song’s placement at either end of the playlist is appropriate; ‘Dance Yrself Clean’ is indie sleaze’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

‘Walking on a Dream’ (Empire of the Sun) Aussie electropop heroes Empire of the Sun spearheaded the genre’s crossover into mainstream discourse around the late 2000s. In retrospect, their over-the-top, lavish costumes and visuals that bordered on the other-worldly and supernatural, mirrored indie sleaze’s grip on maximalism. ‘Walking on a Dream’, however, is the perfect middle-ground that balances the exaggerated extravagance and earnest artistry surrounding the aesthetic. The pastoral, psychedelic tune floats with a light acoustic groove, emitting good vibes with its key motif of coming together by love: ‘Is it real now? / Two people become one’. The song’s reach is boundless— American rapper Wiz Khalifa brought it into his world as ‘The Thrill’, effectively resampling it into a party rap jam. In any form, ‘Walking on a Dream’ is a unique deflection of indie sleaze’s overt hipsterism—it’s a musical comedown that paradoxically lifts any party’s spirits.

‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ (Arctic Monkeys)

It’s a no-brainer that the high-octane, raw rock ‘n’ roll of Arctic Monkeys irreversibly altered the indie rock landscape during the 2000s. If their contemporaries The Strokes had a sleazy undercurrent to their undemanding

garage rock, then Arctic Monkeys in their infancy—before their clean-cut bluesy AM phase in 2013—held onto a sense of debauchery. The British rockers’ debut single ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ is the band at their most authentic, drawing upon Britpop and the like. Whether it’s played at its original energetic tempo or dialled back with lead vocalist Alex Turner’s modern Bowie-isms, it’s still a banging tune capturing the youthful exuberance of nightlife that’ll never get old. Its enduring appreciation that extends to the band—who reached superstardom with this single—attests to its brilliance. ‘Dancing to electropop like a robot from 1984’, Turner exclaims—we sure are.

‘Last Nite’ (The Strokes)

Without the repetitive garage rock of America’s ordinary leather-jacketed heroes The Strokes, indie sleaze wouldn’t be what it is. Had they not emerged, the revivalism of all things blues rock to grunge—a practice sewn into the very fabric of the aesthetic—wouldn’t have existed. It’s hard to imagine a musical climate without The Strokes cementing themselves as a cultural touchstone for revolutionising rock. Like the Arctic Monkeys, their debut carries the most authenticity, but unlike Turner and Co lauding excess, lead vocalist Julian Casablancas explores the navigating of urban youth—the vulnerable side of the indie rock coin. ‘Last Nite’ is the definitive Strokes number that soundtracks both dancing heartily and post–party depression. On the latter, Casasblancas defeatedly says ‘Oh, people, they don’t understand’. No other rock song guilt trips us with ‘you just had to be there’ better than this one.

‘Standing In the Way of Control’ (Gossip)

Gossip’s strutting dance-punk hit sounds like the riot grrrl rock of Sleater-Kinney, only it’s tamer. Still, it soars with its own idiosyncrasies, like frontwoman Beth Ditto’s shrieky, razor-sharp vocals cutting through the song’s grungy guitars. Hearing her bellowed chorus, ‘Standing in the way of control / You live your life / Survive the only way that you know’, makes the hedonistic ‘lose yourself’ energy of the aesthetic manifest into reality. When we were younger, living without a care in the world, surfing the internet and all, this stilted Strokes-y stomper makes for an appetising way to feast on that. It’s giving responsibility the middle finger.

‘NY Lipps’ (Soulwax)

Soulwax’s bleep-heavy nu-disco in ‘NY Excuse’ is already a renowned underground phenomenon circulating in the indie sleaze musical canon. However, this mashup of Lipps Inc.’s famous ‘Funkytown’ takes the tune to a whole new level, by tapping into the scene’s eccentric ‘80s homages. The famous cowbell-heavy groover and its chirpy guitar riffs are distorted to fit Soulwax’s track with its sassy narration: ‘This is the excuse, that we’re making (we’re making)’, exuding a carefree demeanour just like the aesthetic itself, reviving past genres and tropes. ‘NY Lipps’ is a bizarre time machine to the parties of yesteryear that urged anyone to boogie; Soulwax successfully took us back in time.

‘D.A.N.C.E.’ (Justice)

The bit-crushed, electro house hit ‘D.A.N.C.E.’ is one of Justice’s best—derived from its parent album, Cross, which samples over 400 pieces of music! Its infectious

guitar and bass lines, with a melody boldly inspired by Michael Jackson, puts any partygoer in the mood to dance. Although Justice’s jittering disco floor anthem has its origins in pop, the way it twists into something musically maximalist makes it a perfect fit for the colourful world of indie sleaze’s excessiveness. Its sole mantra becomes clear with the line ‘Just as easy as A-B-C’—Justice is right, dancing to it is effortless.

‘24 Hours’ (Sky Ferreira)

Sky Ferreira was perhaps the poster girl for indie sleaze’s unwashed aesthetic, once hanging out with the likes of Taylor Swift (who is, no question, well outside of today’s indie sphere) and donning mascara-ringed eyes and fashion with a vintage edge. Her discography is the ultimate summation of the aesthetic, since her output is largely frozen to when it was at its most prevalent. The ‘80s-esque synthpop ballad ‘24 Hours’ booms with heartfelt twinkles akin to New Order’s ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’, and sparkles just as luxuriously as Blondie’s ‘Heart of Glass’. As Ferreira valiantly begs ‘I wish these 24 hours would never end’, she’s speaking to the youth in all of us—we don’t want our carefree optimism to fade. The skyrocketing resurgence of indie sleaze screams nothing but a yearning for the era’s heyday, and with this song playing out like poignant end credits music, Ferreira has intimately captured that. A sincere, tear-jerking alternative dance anthem that takes us back to our exuberant glory days.

Attachment At Its Core: A Convoluted Understanding Of Bonds

by Ella Cigognini

When I was 10 years old, I read Percy Jackson and the Olympians for the first time. I fell into the world; the five books and their characters became my close companions. The stories became my pre-sleep fantasies; I’d miraculously discover my entire life was a lie, and that I was really the child of a god, waiting to be found. Waiting to be picked up and taken to a summer camp where I’d fight monsters and learn special powers.

I finished the series, but never allowed it to stray too far from my growing mind. I kept it in a corner of my brain, next to Disney Channel shows and fruit roll-ups. I became obsessed, if not infatuated with Greek mythology, constantly wishing I was part of a world that only existed through generations of spoken stories and in the pages of history books. Soon enough, I grew up, left the mythical world behind, and picked up higher fantasy, romance, or nonfiction pieces.

Like any teenager who grew up in the 2010s, I dabbled in Tumblr lore, memorised Wiki pages of The Hunger Games, Divergent, Twilight and any other young adult novel or movie that came out. I fell in love with the YouTube Boy Band. You get it. I was in the thick of emerging online media, as I’m sure you were, and every few years I’m drawn back; to reread, rewatch or relive the nostalgia.

I felt and continue to feel such a profound connection to this media, to tangible pages, or scenes on a screen. I try to compare this to real people; real relationships I’ve had through high school, sports or work. I think back to the friendships I valued when I was 15 and think how different my life would be if I had kept those friendships. For me, this comparison observes that relationships are dynamic, non-linear and complicated. But media, like music, art and novels are unchanging. Instead of turning to real people, are we more likely to turn to ones without emotions, without the ability to answer back or constantly test our standards? Ones that aren’t breathing, but instead are permanent.

Is it because I find safety in familiarity that I turn to childhood books in times of stress or uncertainty?

Comparing an insentient object to a real person asks us deeply if we truly regard our friends as defenders of our feelings and harbourers of our secrets and wishes, especially when relationships are never guaranteed. It asks who comes to mind when ‘best friend’ is written. Are they the people who speak with you as if your mutual language is laughter? Those who always champion your strengths and have a compliment ready on the tip of their tongue. Like you’re two halves of a whole working in tandem.

A ‘best friend’ is a confidant, a companion, a teacher. Merriam-Webster says it’s “a person’s most desirable or valuable possession or resource.” You could count your favourite book or vinyl in that description.

I imagine this declaration paints me as some sort of loner; someone who chooses books over people, isolation over socialisation, and I can’t deny that that might be true on occasion. In periods of anxiety, depression, and uncertainty, I would reach for these books; reach for their comfort when relationships around me were forever changing. Where we constantly expect growth in real people, we revel in the unchanging predictability of physical media.

It might seem isolating to regard something like a book as your closest friend; to me it’s a form of self-care. A personal acknowledgment that your memories with this media make you feel secure and help you form a routine of peace when life is troubling. Books grant us the idea that there is stability in something that is physical and unbreathing, offering a sense of permanence that life cannot afford. Lives end but stories live on.

Whenever I search for nostalgia and familiarity, I find it in words written on pages. Remaining unchanged and unburdened to live up to any standards, words hold us closely when life’s fickle temperament challenges us.

Illustration by Thomas Weir - Alarcon

What 2012 trend you are based on your zodiac sign?

by Veronica Kwong

Aries - Wearing a red plaid button up over a Panic at the Disco shirt and bedazzled combat boots

As the start of the zodiac, you pave the way for fashion and art, setting 2012 trends with a classic red plaid button up from JayJays. This is paired with bedazzled combat boots and a Panic at the Disco shirt to show off your daring and unconventional style choices, as well as your impeccable music taste. With Brendan Urie being a fellow Aries, you wear this shirt with pride while shopping at your local Westfields.

Taurus - Doing a photoshoot with your polaroid in a flower crown

Ruled by Venus, planet of beauty, you have a strong commitment to the Tumblr aesthetic. You know how to take the perfect polaroid to post on instagram, how to get the lighting just right to take a photo of your Starbucks drink, what statement necklace to match with what patterned leggings. For you, there’s no bigger compliment than getting reposted on Tumblr.

Gemini - Reading Larry fanfiction on Ao3 As a sign ruled by Mercury, planet of communication, you’ve most likely always been drawn to work of literary greatness. A work that you regard as one of the most well crafted pieces of literature is, of course, Ao3 Larry fanfiction written by a 13 year old staying up past their bedtime to write their best friends to lovers slowburn #mlm #nsfw #sharing a bed #larry stylison is real #awkward

that works in your favour when Harry Styles sees you reading your feminist fiction at the Up All Night Tour. You look up mid sentence and hold back a gasp when your beautiful brown orbs catch his gorgeous green eyes. Pretend to scoff, you’re not like the other girls, you could never fall in love with the biggest pop star of the generation…

Cancer - Listening to Royals on your iPod on the bus to school

Sitting at the back of the bus listening to Lorde singing to you about how you’ll never be a royal at 7:40am doesn’t mean you’re the emotional Cancer stereotype, it just means you have incredible taste in music. With Lorde being a fellow water sign (Scorpio) it makes sense that you are drawn to her moody lyrics because you too love laughing till your ribs get tough and competing for a love you won’t receive.

Virgo - Making Pinterest boards of room decor, nails and outfits

Virgo is mostly known for being a bit of a perfectionist. You guys are labelled as the most organised and detailed-oriented sign. This might be why you are so drawn to making Pinterest boards to plan out every single aspect of your life. Whether it’s what dress, nails, shoes, hair and makeup you want to wear to formal or what your future apartment will look like (fairy lights hung up on turquoise walls) you guys will have a Pinterest board for it.

Libra - Relating to JustGirlyThings posts on Tumblr

Libras can be considered to be charming, beautiful and naturally social, which is why you might relate to the JustGirlyThings posts. You love ‘Spending the day at the beach with your friends’, ‘Wishing your life was like The Notebook’, ‘Dancing like no one is watching’ or ‘Having bags to match every outfit’. All of these things that just girls do speak to the side of Libra that seeks out the feminine, as you are ruled by Venus, goddess of love and beauty.

Sagittarius - Wanting a moustache tattoo at the age of 12

Sagittarius is all about spontaneity and not taking yourself too seriously. At the ripe age of 12 you want to display your comedic genius to the world in the form of a moustache tattoo on your finger. It’s the perfect party trick! Imagine how funny everyone would find you with your fake moustache! And of course you’d never regret it.

black eyeliner to school

Ruled by the ice giant, Uranus, you’ve often been described as cold or unfeeling. Unfortunately, your mum thinks this is just a phase and doesn’t understand your teenage right to self expression. Every morning you face the toughest battle - a fight with her over your makeup choices. As an Aquarius you always feel like you are just too unique, too edgy, too much black eyeliner.

Scorpio - Alex Turner’s Love Letter to Alexa Chung

Known as one of the most intensely sexual and romantic signs, as a Scorpio you’re instantly drawn to the most passionate and earnest displays of love. Your understanding of love was forever changed and a very high bar was set when you first read Alex Turner’s love letter. ‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’ was, and still is, the most romantic thing you’ve read.

Capricorn - Wearing leopard print skinny jeans on mufti day

As a Capricorn, establishing your position of power and popularity is incredibly important. What better time to show everyone at school that you should be taken seriously than mufti day? Leopard print skinny jeans show off your Capricorn confidence and independence. You aren’t like the other girls who are wearing galaxy print leggings, you’re better.

Pisces - Thinking you’re not like the other girls because you like My Chemical Romance

Pisces has always been a misunderstood sign - you are cursed with the plight of being much wiser and unlike any other sign of the zodiac. This misread, tortured artist persona may be why you relate to the profound lyrics of Gerard Way. When he sang, ‘You said you read me like a book But the pages all are torn and frayed now!’, was the first time you felt truly understood.

20 MINUTES’ WALK: the new venturer’s guide to live music around campus.

by Harrison George

Those of us lucky enough to study at the Parkville campus are surrounded by a wealth of independent music venues, all a short walk away. For a beer or a bop, these are some of the Fodder team’s favourites:

THE NIGHT CAT.

I was lucky enough to work at the Night Cat for a couple years. Whereas the other venues on this list cross over into pub territory, here you’ll find a venue purely for the music. Imagine a nightclub with the grammar-school DJ substituted with an eclectic mix of international and local acts alike, a unique 360-degree stage and an immaculately engineered Meyer sound system. The venue has hosted local legends like King Gizzard and Amyl and the Sniffers, alongside international heavyweights like Nightmares on Wax and Sun Ra Arkestra. Ask your parents about the Night Cat—they’ve probably been a few times. As one of Melbourne’s oldest independent dedicated live music venues, the corner of Johnston and Kerr St beholds the greatest spot for a boogie in Melbourne.

BENDIGO HOTEL.

Lovers of all things heavy, the Bendi is your home. Resembling cannily a country Victoria pub more than an inner Melbourne venue, the Bendigo Hotel is noisy and grimey, where Jesus hairdos and studded accessories are welcome. Be warned of a stiff neck the morning after a guaranteed night of headbanging here.

THE TOTE:

Recently saved by the lovely folk at Last Chance, the Tote is a time capsule of Collingwood before the 2010s yuppy intrusion. Cheap beer and cheaper tunes, the Tote has been a breeding ground for young local bands since 1981 (though the pub itself has been situated here under different monikers since 1873). Read up on the history of the Tote and you’ll see that the venue has stood strong against controversy and hardship to remain a testament to the enduring love for independent music in Melbourne.

THE RETREAT.

A favourite for those posted off of Sydney Rd, with ashtrays still built into the hardwood front bar. A strong contender for the greatest beer garden in Australia, the Retreat is the stomping ground of first gigs and seasoned favourites of the Aussie music scene. Pumpy’s Pub Quiz on Monday and Tuesday evenings is a favourite, with karaoke, analogue synthesis and good trivia married together by long standing host Pumpy. A must visit for the thirsty first years.

THE EVELYN.

The Evelyn declares proudly its weekly performances on its chalkboard mounted to the questionably intact facade; having hosted live music for more than fifty years, the Ev has become an institution for up-and-coming acts and local favourites. With possibly the greatest smoking area outfront and a charitable Happy Hour (from 2-7pm every day), keep this one in mind for a post-class beer(s). Just watch out for the private-school-turned-millennial-goth crew… they usually don’t bite.

Meet the Fodder: Producers

DOM Lepore ANUSHKA Mankodi

BIO:

Hi! I’m a second year BA majoring in Media and Communications. My record collection is always growing and I’m guaranteed to have a song playing in my ears whenever I have the chance.

SONG:

“Sweet Trip” - Dsco: Dsco is a dancey, relentless rush of uplifting positivity exuding bright rays of colour. This multicoloured blend of indietronica, shoegaze, and noise pop is not only impressive for successfully combining these genres, but also for still sounding fresh after its release in 2003. Dsco will forever cure anyone’s bad day.

BIO:

Hi! I’m Anushka and I’m one of the 2024 Radio Fodder producers! I’ll be working on connecting Reviews to Radio Fodder, as well as updating website and blog content! I’m a second year student from India and Oman, studying Media and Communications. Hoping to make Radio Fodder the coolest thing on campus :))

SONG: I chose the song “thinking 2 much” by Jeremy Zucker because of the mood and layering, that makes me feel like I’m floating in a massive pool.

ISOLDE Kieni - Judd JACK Loftus

BIO:

Isolde (They/Them)

Failed hobbyist detective. Enemy of baked goods. Man of (some) of the people. Isolde is a Creative Writing and History and Philosophy of Science third year. Isolde has a lot of experience in theatre, hence why they’ve written this bio in the third person. They have a broad and varied taste in music but have chosen ‘Charlie’s Inferno’ as their favourite to seem unique and likeable.

SONG:

“Charlie’s Inferno” (That Handsome Devil) - They have a broad and varied taste in music but have chosen ‘Charlie’s Inferno’ as their favourite to seem unique and likeable.

TOM Weir - Alarcon

BIO:

Hi, I’m Tom, a first-year Bachelor of Arts student and one of your producers for this year’s Fodder team! In particular, I will be involved in the design and production of promoting the station, particularly through our very own Instagram account. I hope you tune in and keep up with us throughout the next year!

SONG:

“A-Punk” - Vampire Weekend: If anything is to scream the messy freedom of late 2000s’ indie sleaze, it has to be this. Everything from its high-pitch guitars to its stop-motion music video exclaims a lively and amusing energy.

BIO:

My name is Jack Loftus, I’m a student of Psychology under a groovy arts degree. You may know me from the hit show Belly of a Whale produced with Radio Fodder last year. I love all sorts of music, and make music myself. I’ll be supporting other show hosts as a producer this year; we have some good work to do!

SONG:

“Cut Your Hair” by Pavement

I love how music careerism is pulled apart here using a metaphor of changing hairstyles. It paints an incredible image of the underground music scene, and it urges you to remember what’s really important.

listen to the producer’s song picks here

UMSU and the Media Office are located in the city of Melbourne, on the land of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation. We pay respects to the elders - past and present - and acknowledge that the land we are on was stolen and sovereignty was never ceded.