2016 Edition 1

FARRAGO EDITION ONE • 2016

KANYE • MUSHROOMS • VAGINAS

2 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

CONTENTS PAGE 55

PAGE 60 4 • NEWS IN BRIEF 5 • CALENDAR 7 • GENDER X • ACCESS ALL HOURS 8 • FUNDING THE PARTY LINE 9 • IN SSAF HANDS • ATAR: JUST A NUMBER 10 • THE EXPLAINER 11 • SPOTLIGHT ON UoM • VCA GETS A FACELIFT 12 • THE NUS DOESN’T CARE ABOUT BLACK PEOPLE • ARTISTIC DIRECTIONS 13 • CHAIN LINK CEILING 14 • WTF IS UMSU 15 • MEET YOUR OFFICE BEARERS 20 • WHOSE REALITY? 22 • COUNSEL IN COUPLETS 23 • UNDERGRADUALISMS (COMIC) 24 • AM I HERE? 25 • THE VAGINAL FRONTIER 27 • THE FEMININE CRITIQUE 28 • COMEBACK KING 29 • FOR & AGAINST: KANYE WEST

PAGE 19

30 • IT’S A WORLD WIDE WEB OUT THERE 31 • WHY DO WE...

32 • RIO & EVIE (COMIC) 34 • UNIFORM OF CHAINS 35 • WHERE WOULD WE BEE? 36 • IT’S ALL GREEK TO ME 37 • ALWAYS READ THE LABEL 38 • THE WORST PART ABOUT BEING A STORMTROOPER 39 • THE OSCARS: TAKIN’ IT BACK TO ’77 40 • ONE OF US: CULT REVIEWS 41 • ALL BREATHS ARE ONE: REVIEWING THE REVENANT 42 • THE VISIT TO M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN 46 • JENNY ONDIOLINE 47 • BUTTON MASHING 48 • FRUITING BODIES 51 • TRY A LITTLE TINDERNESS 52 • OVER WHERE THE RAGGED PEOPLE GO 55 • OPULENT CRAVINGS 56 • AISLE OF CONSCIOUSNESS 59 • NOTES FROM THE WEIRD SIDE 62 • AN HOUR IN THE LIFE 63 • RISE OF THE FLATTENED FAUNA 64 • FLASH FICTION FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 3

THE FARRAGO TEAM EDITORS

Danielle Bagnato Sebastian Dodds Baya Ou Yang Caleb Triscari

Contributors

James Agathos Alexandra Alvaro Bella Barker Iryna Byelyayeva Carly Cassella Chelsea Cucinotta Nicole de Souza Martin Ditmann Katie Doherty Rose Doole Simon Farley Nathan Fioritti Amie Green Andy Hazel Tyson Holloway-Clarke Candy James-Zoccoli Rose Kennedy Angela Keyte Belinda Lack Jack Langan Charlie Lempriere Ken Lim Sean Mantesso Eleanor McCooey Madison McCormack Jeremy Nadel Mary Ntalianis Evelyn Parsonage Alessandra Prunotto Kit Richards Alexander Baky Tran Peter Tzimos Ben Volchok Jenny Van Veldhuisen

4 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

Subeditors

Bori Ahn Brian Allen Ayche Allouche Alexandra Alvaro Natalie Amiel Jordyn Butler Cara Chiang Ben Clark Jess Comer Gareth Cox-Martin Nicole de Souza Simone Eckhardt Simon Farley Jessica Flatters Hayley Franklin Amie Green Ashleigh Hastings Paloma Herrera Emma Hollis Annabelle Jarrett Audrey Kang Rose Kennedy Jack Kilbride Eliza Lennon Jack Musgrave Jeremy Nadel Kathleen O’Neill Emily Paesler Jesse Paris-Jourdan Alanah Parkin Evelyn Parsonage Elena Piakis Finbar Piper Ed Pitt Lara Porczak Lotte Ward Jenny Van Veldhuisen Dzenana Vucic Matthew Wojczys Jessica Xu Yan Zhuang

COlumnists

Graphics Contributors Edie M Bush James Callaghan Lynley Eavis Amie Green Tiffany Y Goh Adam Joshua Fan Taliza Ho Anwyn Hocking Carolyn Huane Lucy Hunter Jasmin Isobe Emma Jensen Kerry Jiang Tzeyi Koay Han Li Mabel Loui Eloyse McCall Sam Nelson Dominic Shi Jie On Katia Pellicciotta Anais Poussin Frances Rowlands Ella Shi Bonnie Smith Ellen YG Son Sophie Sun Aisha Trambas Agnes Whalan Jialin Yang Reimena Yee

Ben Clark (Online) Gabriel Filippa Patrick Hoang Thiayasha Jayasekera Kerry Jiang James Macaronas Nick Parkinson Adriane Reardon Eliza Shallard Felicity Sleeman (Online) Lotte Ward Xavier Warne

WEB OFFICERS

Sorcha Hennessy Lucie Greene Allen Gu Kim Le

Social Media

Jack Fryer Ilsa Harun Monique O’Rafferty Lachy Simpson

Cover

Amie Green

FINE PRINT

Farrago is the student magazine of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU), produced by the Media Department.

Farrago is published by the General Secretary of UMSU, James Bashford.

The views expressed herein are not necessarily the views of UMSU, the printers or the editors. Farrago is printed by Printgraphics, care of the near-divine Nigel Quirk. All writing and artwork remains the property of the creators. This collection is © Farrago and Farrago reserves the right to republish material in any format.

ARTWORK BY KERRY JIANG

EDITORIAL T

DANIELLE BAGNATO

he first time Farrago published my writing I spent three hours lurking around Union House waiting for it to hit the stands. I was too scared to walk upstairs and ask for a copy because, in my mind, the editors were mythical creatures whose level of cool knew no bounds. Seeing my name printed in a magazine that I revered, in a magazine that had been kicking since 1925, filled me with joy and purpose. Farrago is the magazine that will print your defence of Justin Bieber, your feminist column and your long-arse piece about mushroom foraging. Farrago is the place to find your voice, hone your skills and meet like-minded dorks. I joined the team because there was no way I was letting a magazine like Farrago keep rolling without me. This year I have the honour of editing Farrago with Sebastian, Baya and Caleb – who are clever, who make me cry-laugh and who don’t blink an eye when I need to hide under my desk. Together, we have the honour of leading a team of talented writers, artists, broadcasters, producers and other media-savvy folk who spend their time making us look good. So thank you for picking up a copy and make sure you get involved, it’ll be the best decision you ever make.

F

or a really long time after first reading Farrago, I never felt I had the knowledge or connections to get involved. Then, at the urging of a friend, I applied for a subeditor position using a woefully inadequate series of Seussian couplets to sell myself. Somehow, it worked. I got a job helping new writers like me to improve their work. I got published; a piece about my sleep disorder, something to show my mum. I saw my writing go out into the world. From that first taste, I knew I wanted to be editor; I needed to pass that feeling of acceptance on. Twelve months later and here I am – which just goes to show how easy it is to immerse yourself in this fantastic community.

I’m so desperately excited for the year ahead, for the chance to publish new voices, new ideas. If you’re reading this and wondering if maybe you should submit: do it. You will never, ever regret it. Get writing, get painting, get fucking naked and run across South Lawn with a GoPro taped to your butt.

However you do it, start creating.

SEBASTIAN DODDS

T

BAYA OU YANG

here’s this locker in the Farrago office. Whenever anyone comes in, I show it to them. “Check this out,” I say as I fling open its doors. Inside lies shelf after shelf of Farragos throughout the years. It’s glowing like a cartoon treasure chest. The victim glances inside: “That’s pretty cool”. “Pretty cool?” I say, “You’re looking at 91 years of Australia’s greatest student magazine, show some goddamn respect.” And then they get a little offended. “Why are you like this?” they ask me as they show themselves out, “Also why are you stroking that magazine?”

My love affair with Farrago started three years ago and has only grown stronger since creating this edition with our team, who have made Farrago the beautiful clusterfuck its name demands. You can’t fill lockers with people, but that’s what I see now when I look at the locker – people sitting on the shelves, arguing over Kanye and giggling over Storm Troopers. This, dear reader, is Farrago. So welcome, apologies for the zeal. I hope you love Edition One as much as I have loved making it. Thank you for joining the conversation we’re having inside the locker.

T

he attraction to Farrago was natural for me. As a naive first year, I feared my university life would revolve around classes and nothing more. Luckily, I was welcomed with open arms and a piece of naan bread at the first Farrago gathering for 2014. My love and devotion to the publication and the community has grown rapidly ever since.

As I lead campus reporting this year, I will aim to ensure every piece answers the question “what does this mean for students?”. There remains a disengagement between students and the environment, and I hope to close that gap further. I also aim to lead some investigative pieces surrounding transparency and accountability within the university. A body is only as strong as its constituents and I think people need reminding of that. As for the magazine in general, I hope this first edition brings with it an array of pleasant surprises. Farrago, as the name suggests, shouldn’t be something that is easily defined or limited. Oh – and hi Mum!

ARTWORK BY EDIE M BUSH

CALEB TRISCARI FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 5

CAMPUS

NEWS IN BRIEF NO HECSCAPE

The Federal Government has fulfilled its promise in closing a loophole which allowed Australians living overseas to avoid repaying their student loans. The change will commence from July 2017.

FEE INCREASE

RISKY BUSINESS

The transfer of funds to an external communications firm from the Graduate Student Association have come to light.

Over two years, the GSA have given $135,000 to Essential Media Communications for an education campaign against fee deregulation.

MIDSUMMA

The University of Melbourne marched for the first time in the Midsumma Pride March.

The march is an annual celebration of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans and intersex community.

WA SHAKEUP

Students at the University of Melbourne have seen a 3% increase in domestic fees from 2014 to 2016.

International students have faced a higher increase ranging between 4% to 6% since 2015.

The ‘Australia Needs a Brighter Future’ campaign has provided limited information on how the funds have been spent or used, raising concern.

The Western Australian Education Minister has advised that legislation will be proposed to reduce the size of university governing councils.

WA student unions are opposed to these changes.

TALK ABOUT IT

NEWDENT PRECINCT

GLYNTINUES

The National Union of Students’ Women’s Department released its 2015 Talk About It survey. The results state 72.75% of respondents experienced sexual harassment on campus.

HECS NO

Liberal senator Chris Back has proposed a funding model in which student loans can be paid off from their superannuation.

Student organisations have condemned the suggestion, arguing it is a slippery slope into a mandatory repayment model.

Back is “very hopeful it will find its way into our policies going forward into 2016 election”.

Under the proposed plan, the super used would need to eventually be repaid.

6 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

The University of Melbourne is inviting students to participate from early stages in the co-creation of a new student engagement precinct on campus.

Aimed at enhancing the ‘Melbourne experience’, the proposed studentcentric precinct will include a range of student services and activities.

The university will be giving updates through its social media channels.

STANDING STRONG

Standing Room has opened a new storefront at the Melbourne School of Design. They will also be opening stores at Melbourne Central and Monash University’s Caulfield campus soon.

Vice Chancellor Glyn Davis has accepted an invitation to continue his position until the end of 2018. Davis first began his post as vice chancellor in 2005 and has overseen many structural changes.

FOLLOW-UP LETTER A second open letter has been signed by over 900 academics to the PM condemning the treatment of children on Nauru.

The letter was started

by Unimelb professor Philomena Murray.

INDIGENOUS OFFERS

Unimelb has reached a five year high with indigenous students, offering 68 applicants a place to study in 2016.

This fulfills the enrolment goals of the Reconciliation Action Plan.

BRAND NEW DESIGN

Farrago understands the University of Melbourne is set to establish a new Bachelor of Design to commence in 2017. The future of the Bachelor of Environments is unclear at this stage.

IT’S FAPPENING

Eyes have been drawn to the University of Melbourne’s Flexible Academic Program.

The unfortuantely named FAP will investigate curriculum and teaching structure at the university.

While the FAP is in early stages, UMSU Education says it will aim to make sure that students are given the opportunity to provide input on the potential restructures which affect them.

The FAP Terms of Reference list lecture class sizes, timetabling, and trimesters as subjects of interest.

Very little has yet been confirmed. Farrago will be covering the FAP as further developments unfold.

EUREKA MOMENT

The Bachelor of Science continues its streak of being the most in-demand undergraduate course.

The two year streak has taken the title from the Bachelor of Arts.

UMSU

MARCH CALENDAR WEEK ONE

WEEK TWO

WEEK THREE

MONDAY 29

MONDAY 7

MONDAY 14

12pm: Welfare – Monday Mingle

12pm: Enviro Collective 1pm: Queer/Disability Collective TBC: GET INVOLVED IN STUDENT MEDIA

12pm: Wom*n’s – Feminism 101 12pm: Enviro Collective 12pm: Welfare – Monday Mingle 1pm: Queer/Disability Collective

12pm: Enviro Collective 1pm: Queer/Disability Collective

TUESDAY 8

TUESDAY 15

TUESDAY 22

9-11am: Enviro – Bike Co-op 11am: Trans Collective 1pm: BBQ & Band – Pierce Brothers 1pm: Wom*n of Colour Collective 5.30pm: Enviro – Play With Your Food

9-11am: Enviro – Bike Co-op 11am: Trans Collective 12pm: Wom*n of Colour Collective 1-2pm: Union House Theatre – Rowdy Reads 1pm: BBQ & Band– Kate Miller Heidke & The Darjeelings 5.30pm: Enviro – Play with your Food 6-8pm: Creative Arts – Life Drawing

9-11am: Enviro – Bike Co-op 11am: Trans Collective 1-2pm: Union House Theatre – Rowdy Reads 1pm: BBQ & Band – Jakubi & Flying Bison 5pm: Wom*n’s – Mentoring Network Panel 5.30pm: Enviro – Play with your Food

9-11am: Enviro – Bike Co-op 11am: Trans Collective 1-2pm: Union House Theatre – Rowdy Reads 12-2pm: Creative Arts – Life Drawing 1pm: Wom*n of Colour Collective 1pm: BBQ & Band – Lunchbox Laughter 5pm: MEDIA – WORDPLAY 5.30pm: Enviro – Play with your Food

WEDNESDAY 2

WEDNESDAY 9

WEDNESDAY 16

WEDNESDAY 23

12pm: Wom*n’s Collective 12pm: Education Action Group 1pm: Lunch with the Queer Bunch 2pm: People of Colour Collective

12pm: Wom*n’s Collective 1pm: Lunch with the Queer Bunch 2pm: Wom*n’s – Crafternoons 2pm: People of Colour Collective 7pm: Activities – Start of Uni Party (SoUP)

12pm: Feminism 101: Does Feminism Speak for all Wom*n?

12pm: Education Action Group 1pm: Lunch with the Queer Bunch 2pm: Welfare – People of Colour Collective

12pm: Wom*n’s Collective 1pm: Lunch with the Queer Bunch 2pm: People of Colour Collective

THURSDAY 3

THURSDAY 10

THURSDAY 17

THURSDAY 24

8.30-10.30am: Welfare – Free Breakfast 12pm: Wom*n’s – Queer & Questioning QTs 12pm: Enviro – Fossil Free BBQ 2pm: Queer – Queer People of Colour Collective 4pm: Queer – Thursday Fun Times

8:30-10.30am: Welfare – Free Breakfast 12pm: Wom*n’s – Queer and Questioning QTs 2pm: Queer People of Colour Collective 4pm: Queer – Speed Dating 7pm: Enviro – Screening of Black Hole

8:30-10.30am: Welfare – Free Breakfast 2pm: Queer – Queer People of Colour Collective 4pm: Queer – Thursday Fun Times 6pm: Activities – St Patrick’s Day Trivia TBC: Wom*ns: Movie Night

8:30-10.30am: Welfare – Free Breakfast 1pm: Wom*n’s – Queer and Questioning QTs 2pm: Queer – Queer People of Colour Collective 4pm: Queer – Thursday Fun Times

FRIDAY 4

FRIDAY 11

FRIDAY 18

FRIDAY 25

12pm: Queer – Ace/Aro Collective

12pm: Queer – Ace/Aro Collective

12pm: Queer – Ace/Aro collective 6-8pm: Creative Arts – Talking Out Of Your Arts

TUESDAY 1

ARTWORK BY EDIE M BUSH

International Women’s Day

WEEK FOUR MONDAY 21

WOM*N’S – RESPECT WEEK

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 7

8 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

CAMPUS

GENDER X

MARY NTALIANIS QUESTIONS UNIMELB’S GENDER IDENTIFIERS

T

he University of Melbourne has introduced a new gender identification option that will be made available to all students in 2016. The third gender identifier, ‘trans/intersex/other’, will be added alongside ‘male’ and ‘female’ in an effort by the university to be more inclusive of transgender, intersex and gender diverse students. Available through the student portal, the university hopes this change will allow students’ personal details to more accurately reflect their identity.

By adding a third gender identifier, the university is acknowledging the existence of non-binary, transgender and intersex students. Individuals who identify as non-binary are not exclusively or solely male or female. This effort to validate the identities of gender diverse students has largely been met with a positive response from the university’s queer community.

However, the new gender identification option has received some criticism from transgender students highlighting the importance of having proper consultation between the university and queer students. Many students oppose the term ‘transgender/intersex/ other’, as it seems to lump intersex, non-binary-transgender and binary-transgender students together.

ACCESS ALL HOURS JACK LANGAN PULLS AN ALL-NIGHTER

I

n the lead up to semester two exams for 2015, the Eastern Resource Centre left its doors open to the public 24/7. In a three-week trial encompassing the SWOTVAC period and the first week of exams, students had access to the first level of the ERC after hours. This provided access to computers, as well as a silent study area outside of regular library operation times. Overall, the initiative was deemed to be a success.

Doubts regarding the demand for after hours ERC access were quelled, as more than the expected number of students used the space for last minute revision prior to exams.

James Henshall, a student who used the library facilities in the period leading up to examinations, said “I have many competing demands on my time and having access to a quiet study place where I could work on my assignments and exam preparation made things much easier”.

However, despite glowing reviews, the trial did encounter some logistical and practical issues. On a particularly hot day, the air

ARTWORK BY ELLEN YG SON (LEFT) AND SOPHIE SUN

“It’s harmful to reinforce the idea that all trans men and women and all intersex men and women are not actually men and women, but fall in the ‘other’ category,” said one transgender student who is critical of the changes.

“But ideally, the university wouldn’t have to categorise students by gender at all.”

Other students labelled this a ‘token act’ by the university.

“There are [other] moves that the uni could take to show support for trans people, such as creating a gender neutral bathroom [and] having sports that allow non-binary people to participate without having to misgender themselves,” said a non-binary student.

“But when it comes to supporting marginalised groups, language matters.”

The student union’s queer officers reflect these concerns.

“We’re disappointed by the use of ‘transgender/intersex/other’ which groups trans and intersex individuals with ‘other’…we are hoping to work with the university to amend this and would prefer to simply have a third gender option as ‘other’. Ideally the university would have a fourth option ‘non-binary’ to further validate non-binary identities.”

Despite this, the queer officers regard this change as a positive step in the right direction.

“We’re excited to have the university provide another option for students who do not identify as ‘male’ or ‘female’ while simplifying the process for transgender students to change their identification whether it be to the third gender option or to ‘male/female’. This is a great step to making the university a more inclusive environment.”

conditioning system on the first floor of the ERC malfunctioned due to overheating, most likely caused by the extended hours of use.

Accompanying this were safety concerns for the students using the facilities. While the university does offer security escorts after hours, a safety issue arose within the ERC itself. Entry into the building is granted through swiping a student card to activate the automatic doors. However, upon seeing people outside, students already inside would often open the automatic doors for people who couldn’t enter.

Library staff and members of the UMSU Education and Academic Department are looking into minimising these safety risks for future trials.

Regardless of these minor concerns, “the extended hours during SWOTVAC were a great service,” said Henshall.

Given the success of the trial in 2015, the ERC is likely to remain accessible to students after hours during the lead up to exams in 2016. If no major issues arise, the after hours program may expand to other libraries on campus, providing students with more convenient study spaces in the future.

When asked about the future of 24/7 libraries at the University of Melbourne, a member of library staff said “students need access to facilities, and of course they should have that access”.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 9

CAMPUS

FUNDING THE PARTY LINE

JEREMY NADEL SHOWS YOU WHERE YOUR MONEY IS GOING AND WHY

T

he 2016 UMSU Students’ Council has met for the first time, discussing issues including the allocation of student funds and cuts to student department budgets.

The make-up of UMSU’s governing body mostly consists of the Grassroots Left, the Labor Left, the Labor Right and More Activities! (a grouping that prioritises clubs and activities over representing students in the political sphere).

The political arrangement of last year’s general elections centred on an agreement More Activities! made with Stand Up!, outlining that they support More Activities’ presidential candidate, James Baker, in exchange for the Labor Left securing General Secretary, Education (Public), Welfare and Wom*ns offices.

A central point of division in UMSU politics is attitudes towards the National Union of Students, the chief representative body for Australian university students. The NUS are viewed as responsible for defending students against proposed changes by the federal government – fee-hikes, cuts to tertiary education, the recent antiSSAF motion – through lobbying, coordinating rallies and other forms of political organisation.

In 2015, UMSU’s NUS affiliation dropped from $106,000 to $55,500. The cut, which was proposed by President Rachel Withers from More Activities!, was justified on two grounds.

Firstly, supporters of the cut argued the savings could be used to increase funding for on-campus events, clubs and student welfare services. Supporters of the cut also alleged that the NUS is hamstrung by factionalism and inaccessibility. Similar reservations towards the NUS were recently expressed by student media organisations who criticised the NUS’ ban on recording devices at their National Conference. For instance, Farrago and Honi Soit (University of Sydney) claimed the ban reflected poor standards of accountability and transparency.

For the 2016 budget, the Labor Left succeeded in increasing the NUS affiliation fee to $70,500, 16 per cent of total budget expenditure. Labor Left Councillor Millicent Austin-Andrews defended funding the NUS.

10 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

“[NUS] does a lot to oppose fee de-regulation and will be needed to fight for SSAF – the lifeblood of this organisation – and is currently running a national survey into women’s safety on campuses,” she argued.

The budget also included a cut to the VCA Department from $35,000 (2015) to $15,000 (2016). Van Rudd, VCA Campus Coordinator and member of the Socialist Alternative, argued that the VCA was being “treated like it’s a committee when it’s an entire campus.”

“Students at the VCA are in their studios eight hours a day. They don’t have time to catch the half-an-hour tram up to Parkville where all the services are concentrated... since the merger, there have been successive cuts to VCA, gradually diminishing the culture on campus!”

Rudd listed many services and utilities used by students at the VCA, which he claimed would not be able to continue under the new budget, such as yoga classes. It was when Rudd mentioned “printing infrastructure” that a number of hands-on-mouth giggles rippled through the Students’ Council, revealing the true reason behind the dramatic decrease in funding to the VCA Student Association.

During the UMSU general election last September, Socialist Alternative members were discovered to be using union funds to print their own election campaign material. When General Secretary James Bashford from the Labor Left defended the 2016 budget cuts to the VCA campus, he argued it was reasonable to be suspicious of VCA expenditure following the events of the 2015 election and that departments based in Parkville had tried to cooperate and organise events at the VCA several times throughout the year but had “been met with a brick wall”.

However, a compromise was reached when former Farrago co-editor, Martin Ditmann, successfully motioned that it become mandatory for all departments to run at least one event at a nonParkville campus each semester.

INFOGRAPHIC BY TALIZA HO

CAMPUS

ATAR: JUST A NUMBER atar meanS nothing? Angela Keyte reports

V

IN SSAF HANDS

Caleb Triscari EXPLAINS THE NEW SSAF STICKER

A

motion passed by the governing body of the student union will aim to raise awareness of services provided by the Student Services and Amenities Fee (SSAF).

The motion, proposed by UMSU General Secretary James Bashford, requires that all publications, including Farrago, must clearly display a graphic which demonstrates that the product was funded by the SSAF. “There’s a disconnect between the popularity of these services and the popularity of the SSAF because organisations like UMSU and other services that receive SSAF haven’t clearly promoted where their funding comes from,” said Bashford.

“Our aim is to improve our promotion of SSAF funding and make it clearer to students where their money is going.”

The push for awareness follows a growing concern surrounding the future of the SSAF. In November 2015, a motion was put forth by multiple independent and crossbench senators to replace the compulsory fee with an annual ballot which determined whether the SSAF would be charged for the year. The motion was defeated 35-6 with the majority of Liberal members abstaining from the vote. Labor, Greens, Nationals and some crossbench senators opposed the motion. Liberal senators Cory Bernardi and Eric Abetz crossed the floor.

Since the motion, student organisations have pushed to make known how the SSAF is being used to fund student-oriented services and opportunities.

In 2015, the university distributed approximately $13 million collected from the annual payment to organisations and departments such as UMSU, the Graduate Student Association, Melbourne University Sport and Wellbeing services. In 2016, the SSAF will increase to $290 for full-time students and $217 for parttime students.

Currently, there are only plans for UMSU to advertise services funded by the SSAF. However, Bashford hopes that other organisations will soon follow.

“For the campaign to be truly effective, we hope all services and organisations funded by SSAF adopt the logo. One of the biggest misconceptions about SSAF is that all the funding goes to [UMSU], when in reality we only get around one third.”

When contacted by Farrago, President of the GSA Jim Smith has stated his support for UMSU’s motion, but is waiting to receive the final SSAF review before any additional measures are implemented.

The SSAF review is expected to be presented by the university in the upcoming months.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY MABEL LOUI

ictoria University’s vice-chancellor Peter Dawkins stated recently that clearly-in ATARs are “a meaningless piece of information”.

His statement comes in response to the Victorian Tertiary Admissions Centre’s decision not to publish clearly-in ATARs for courses where at least 60 per cent of first-round offers go to students with ATARs below the clearly-in.

Only 25 per cent of university courses in Victoria had a clearly-in this year, down from 40 per cent last year.

“VU does not view ATARs as a critical measure of determining student success,” said Professor Dawkins, citing research from the university that shows that some low-ATAR students perform very well while high-ATAR students often do poorly.

However, Sue Elliott, Deputy Provost at the University of Melbourne, says that they are not looking to consider other selection tools, such as personal statement submissions.

“These have not been shown to be predictive of undergraduate performance at university and so [we] do not use them,” she says.

“We will continue to examine selection instruments as they are developed and rigorously evaluated.”

It’s true – analysis performed by the University of Melbourne shows that a student’s performance in secondary school is the most reliable predictor of academic success at university. Even the research Professor Dawkins cited concludes that students with high ATARs outperform students with low ATARs on average.

However, Professor Dawkins pointed out that high ATAR requirements discriminate against students from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, who tend to have lower ATAR scores.

Unimelb will continue to recognise these disadvantages through the Access Melbourne scheme. Through this program, students who have experienced disadvantages, not only financial, have their ATAR scores adjusted. About a third of students admitted each year come through the Access program. “[Unimelb] strives to ensure that the students with the best potential, independent of background, have the opportunity to study at Australia’s top-ranked university,” says Professor Elliott.

Tom Crowley, UMSU Education Officer believes downplaying the importance of ATAR scores can be beneficial. “[Placing too much emphasis on VCE results] puts undue stress on Year 12s and makes them feel like failures if they don’t get the ATAR they want”.

“Your ATAR doesn’t determine your worth.”

However, Crowley acknowledges that different courses have different demands. “Students need some sort of indicator of level to help them choose courses that suit them,” he says.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 11

CAMPUS

STOP (1) RIGHT NOW, THANK YOU VERY MUCH MARTIN DITMANN VISITS UNIMELB’S ONE-STOP STOP 1 SHOP

I

n the most notable shake-up to frontline student services in a generation, the University of Melbourne has opened Stop 1, the new student centre.

Stop 1 now handles everything from enrolments to student support to administrative services.

In a website run by the university, Stop 1 will aim to be “the new face of student services online, on the phone and in person”.

“With our staff working side-by-side, you will be able to access the right service when you need it.”

The new student centre replaces all previous centres as part of the university’s aim to create a one stop shop for services. Staff will continue to specialise in different faculties but they will operate out of the same building.

Stop 1 is located at 757 Swanston Street, on the corner of Grattan and Swanston Streets, in the new student precinct. The building also houses the Co-op Bookshop, which has shed most of its bookshelves in favour of light merchandise and electronic goods.

The university eventually aims to move other organisations into the precinct, including the student union and the Graduate Student Association.

12 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

At the Victorian College of the Arts, Stop 1 has replaced the previous student centre.

This latest change follows a major realignment of student services as part of the Business Improvement Program.

Like other aspects of the program, Stop 1 initially faced heavy opposition and scepticism from both staff and student unions.

“One of the more well-known and concerning BIP changes is the merging of all student centres, and an end to faculty-based student centres,” said 2015 UMSU President Rachel Withers.

Stop 1 follows years of student centre readjustment. Now, many are predicting it won’t last.

“The word on the floor is that Stop 1 will only last a year until the university changes it back,” said one Stop 1 staff member, who did not wish to be named.

Others argue that the university needs to do more to address issues with student services.

“Amalgamating the student centres at a single ‘stop’ makes no material difference to the ongoing deficiencies of the university’s student advisory system,” said UMSU Education Officer Tom Crowley.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CALEB TRISCARI

CAMPUS

SPOTLIGHT ON UOM

VCA GETS A FACELIFT

I

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CHELSEA CUCINOTTA MOVES IN FOR A CLOSE-UP

n recent months, the University of Melbourne has been the set of an Australian film called Ali’s Wedding, a romantic comedy that documents the life of migrant Osamah Sami. In a true-life story, Osamah becomes caught in a web of lies as he fabricates his status as a medical student of the university in a bid to uphold the expectations of those around him.

The University of Melbourne is no stranger to the big screen.

Films such as Knowing, starring Nicolas Cage to other films like The Moon and the Sun and Other Catastrophes, highlight the campus’ versatility as a film set. The underground South Lawn car park is notorious for its use as a police garage in Mad Max. Ali’s Wedding producer Sheila Jayadey says that the university was a “special place to film...for the array of visuals” including “the grandeur of its sandstone arches, to the stunning designs of its newer buildings”.

The subtleties of the campus are not lost to the students, who reflect on it themselves. Some are discriminating, or aesthetically tuned, valuing the culture of their surroundings. This applies to students past and present, with Tony Ayres, executive producer of Ali’s Wedding, being a Victorian College of the Arts alumnus.

Bachelor of Arts student Olympia Nelson notes the suitable quality of the campus.

“If you want to evoke ancestral privilege and professors with tweed jackets, then this is the scenic backdrop for you. Courtyards such as the Old Quad have the intimacy and sonic magic that you will not find in modern architecture anywhere,” she said.

“Tranquil, serene and otherworldly, the nineteenth century architects of the University of Melbourne knew the art of genuinely intimate space.”

And with award-winning modern architecture too, like the Melbourne School of Design, which has been recognised for its architectural and environmental excellence, the university certainly makes an ideal filming location.

The university’s Executive Director of Marketing and Communications Lara McKay says, “Usually these films don’t actually depict the location as the University of Melbourne, so Ali’s Wedding is interesting in that regard, and we are so pleased to be able to support such an important Australian film.”

With the city of Melbourne holding such high regard internationally for its liveability, and the university’s distinguished ranking, the Parkville campus is sure to continue serving as the location for many future films.

GRAPHICS BY SOPHIE YG SUN (LEFT) AND TALIZA HO

BELLA BARKER BREAKS GROUND ON A DEVELOPING STORY

he Victorian College of the Arts (VCA) is set to expand its horizons – literally and figuratively – with its visual arts wing due to be completed this year. The space will be accessible to students as well as the public. This will provide more opportunities for the VCA’s visual art students to showcase their work, in addition to regular exhibitions.

And where will these horizons expand to, you ask? The visual arts wing is a renovation project, replacing the Victorian Police Mounted Branch stables behind the VCA campus. Professor Barry Conynham, Dean of the Faculty for the VCA and Melbourne Conservatorium of Music, said that the concept of renovating the stables has been on the drawing board for several decades, as UMSU reported in 2015.

The project has been put in action, with $8.5 million funding from the Victorian Government. It intends to draw in members of the public to engage with not only the visual art, but also the physical performance aspects of VCA, such as dance and music.

VCA student Nicole Ng says she is looking forward to further engagement with the community and future students, as well as more space.

“It would definitely bring more attention to Fine Art courses for Melbourne University. It would bring more open space for Fine Arts students to work with,” she says.

However, when contacted, the VCA Students Association did highlight a concern about the renovations – a lot of money is going into them, which means it is not going into staffing at the Southbank campus.

“We just saw the biggest job cuts in Australian university history with the Business Improvement Plan and this is already having a negative effect on students’ experience,” says James Crafti, VCASA’s Campaigns Coordinator.

“The fact that the university is spending money on renovations when they should be spending it on hiring and maintaining staff shows their moves are more about prestige than... education.”

The Business Improvement Plan (BIP) has certainly had a ripple effect. At face value, fewer staff suggests a less enriching education experience for students at all campuses of the University of Melbourne. It’s important to note that the BIP is a relatively recent occurrence due to federal government funding cuts, while the stable renovation idea has been around for over thirty years. Perhaps staffing needs should be addressed along with renovations, in light of the BIP.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 13

CAMPUS

ARTISTIC DIRECTIONS Nicole De Souza ON ART FOR ART’S SAKE

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THE NUS DOESN’T CARE ABOUT BLACK PEOPLE Tyson Holloway-Clarke tells it like it is

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he dead of night, Mannix College. Sleepy eyes trace words across bound books and luminescent screens. Coloured shirts have been pulled over heaving chests and the infamous National Conference (NatCon) has reached chapter seven in the policy book; Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Policy. For the second year, running policy concerning my family, my friends and myself has been relegated to the early hours of an exhausting day. Discussion has been insincere; people are simply going through the motions and it is anticipated things will continue on in the same fashion.

Some speak, but for what purpose I don’t know, as the outcomes are premeditated, rehearsed and nothing more than tokenism. I suppose we should have expected as much – the National Union of Students has made it abundantly clear that Indigenous students and policy for us is an afterthought at best, a waste of time if honest.

I am awake too, speaking with a good friend of mine who is sitting on the conference floor. I am reading and rereading the seventh policy chapter trying to extract substance. I let my friend know that I am in support of 7.16 as it would make some steps towards delivering a mandate for me at a local level and leverage against NUS to make good on their commitment to Indigenous students. Alas, it was proposed by a Liberal student and was cast aside without a second thought. The rest of the policies are the lowhanging fruit of the least ambitious, concerning topics such as flags, healthcare outside of their mandate and complaints about school curriculums and Close the Gap policy to the relevant ministers and shadow ministers.

The list of things that will not get done includes the creation of a meaningful Reconciliation Action Plan for the NUS, real student support of a partnership with Recognise, national comprehensive student representation or the reparation of the relationship between NUS and the Indigenous student body. I do not blame the Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander Officers. I blame the people that put them up to it, knowing they are under qualified and unprepared for the task at hand. I blame the NUS for fostering a culture of mediocrity and monotony. I blame myself for letting it slide.

Who gives a fuck about flags when students are homeless, indebted to the government and more likely to go to jail than finish their degree. Like Kanye said, “The NUS doesn’t care about Black people”. Ultimately the NUS is failing to live up to what it could be and is pissing away whatever mandate it has left. It is only a matter of time before mediocrity turns into toxicity, I just pray my family are out of the way when it does.

14 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

rt & Australia, one of the country’s premier art magazines, will be relaunched in 2016 as a research and publishing body at the VCA. Eleonora Triguboff, the previous owner, editor and publisher of the magazine since 2003, gifted the publication and its archives to the University of Melbourne in December 2015.

Triguboff will now become an honorary Chair of the journal while Professor Su Baker, Director of the VCA, takes the reins of editorin-chief. Dr Edward Colless will also join the team as an editor.

The new Art & Australia will aim to be a forum for polemical and experimental ideas and focus on artistic, historical and critical debates.

“Students at the university will have direct access to key writers and will be mentored in their own work through this higher level of debate, particularly at Honours and graduate levels,” Professor Baker said.

Having been in print since 1963, Art & Australia is the country’s longest running art journal, with its predecessor, known as Art in Australia, beginning in 1916. Students will be able to access over 53 years worth of historical content through the publication’s immense digital archives for their own research purposes. Staff and students will also be able to use the online version of the journal as another academic tool.

“The web presence will have a more dynamic character as it will be an immediate resource,” Professor Baker said.

“We expect there to be two print versions a year, but the website [will hopefully] be more dynamic and have [richer] material.”

The project is expected to expand to include visiting speakers and artists, who have the potential to enhance the learning experience of students from the VCA by hosting exhibitions, conferences and events. The editorial team also hopes to establish a publishing culture that students can participate in.

“We find that there are many articulate art students who become extremely good writers. Their voices as the new generation of artists are really valuable. And of course, we have highly motivated young art historians in the Faculty of Arts. The students are, after all, the future writers and readers.”

Art & Australia will relaunch in June 2016 with a focus on contemporary art and its relationship to broader theoretical, socio-cultural and geo-political contexts.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ANWYN HOCKING

CAMPUS

CHAIN LINK CEILING ALEXANDRA ALVARO LOOKS INTO BARRIERS TO EDUCATION

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unding barriers at the University of Melbourne are preventing refugees and asylum seekers from pursuing an education.

A recent report by the Refugee Council of Australia has found asylum seekers and refugees are blocked out of the education system due to funding restrictions. It paints a damning picture of tertiary institutions’ funding allocations. This is particularly unflattering for the University of Melbourne, who is yet to announce any specific funding or scholarships for refugees and asylum seekers pursuing qualifications.

Deputy Provost and Deputy Vice-Chancellor International at the University of Melbourne, Professor Susan Elliott, blames the current lack of governmental support for the underfunding of such programs.

“With hundreds of thousands of displaced people in Europe and elsewhere, how do universities respond to their needs when usual funding mechanisms are not available?” She asks.

The report, released in December 2015, finds refugees holding temporary protection visas, as well as asylum seekers holding bridging visas, are ineligible for government subsidisation.

Without access to financial support, asylum seekers in the middle of having their claims processed are required to apply as international students, paying tens of thousands of dollars in upfront fees, even though their visas provide them with the right to study.

Unable to secure Commonwealth Supported Places, FEE-HELP or HECS-HELP schemes, or receive income support, the opportunity to complete tertiary or TAFE qualifications is severely hindered.

Nicholas Haslam, the director of Researchers for Asylum Seekers, believes universities need to do more, and that allowing refugee communities to participate in the higher education system is an opportunity “that will pay great dividends for social engagement”.

“Universities also need to see it as their responsibility to open their doors to displaced people and remove barriers to participation. They can’t wait for governments to take the first step, but should invest their own resources in enhancing the access and involvement of refugee students,” he said.

“Enabling refugees to find meaningful work and economic independence is crucial. Education plays a key role in... enabling refugees to engage and participate fully in their new society.”

ARTWORK BY ELLEN YG SON

Eleven Australian universities offer scholarships tailored to refugees and asylum seekers; the University of Melbourne is not one of those institutions. Rather, potential refugee and asylum seeker students requesting financial support must apply for the International Undergraduate Scholarship, valued at $56,000 AUD. While this would cover the cost of a full degree, the likelihood of receiving this scholarship is slim as it is open to most international students, with only fifty spots on offer.

Further requirements include that students must have successfully completed their final year of high school with ‘excellent results’ and are a citizen of a country other than Australia or New Zealand.

Many refugees cannot fulfil these prerequisites due to the circumstances of their migration. The plight of a young woman pursuing higher education is detailed in the report: “I lost my dad, I lost my brother and I couldn’t stay anymore. ... I’m not allowed to work, there are no funds for me to study… I escaped from my country because I couldn’t go to school. The only thing I wish to have was a better life, a safe life, to be educated, and I couldn’t have that.”

Dr Les Terry, a research fellow at the University of Melbourne’s Refugee Studies Program, believes having one scholarship for all international students is incredibly problematic.

“It is important to note that there will be great variation in the education background that exist both within and across [refugee] communities,” he explains.

Aiming to highlight the disparity, the Melbourne Refugee Studies Program and the Centre for the Study of Higher Education are currently looking into the unmet needs in refugee background communities and ways of making the system more accessible.

“Many refugee background people will enter Australia with high levels of education while others will have faced major barriers in their schooling and therefore have different needs”, he said.

While the University of Melbourne’s response to the findings is still being considered, it acknowledges change is inevitable in order to support these potential students.

“Though the timing of the report’s release means it is still being fully analysed, it’s clear that this is an issue which needs consideration by many countries and change over the next five years seems very likely”, said Professor Elliot.

Currently the university offers support services such as financial advice, counselling and English language support to all students.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 15

UMSU

WHAT THE FUCK IS UMSU? YOU’VE HEARD IT BEFORE, YOU SEE THE PEOPLE IN PURPLE SHIRTS. WHAT IS GOING ON? DON’T SWEAT IT, THE EDITORS ARE HERE TO BREAK IT DOWN FOR YOU.

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he University of Melbourne Student Union (that’s UMSU to you) is the representative body for all Unimelb students! Everything that unique shade of purple touches is your kingdom oyster.

If you’re a student at the University of Melbourne, you are already a member and have access to an incredible range of services to improve your campus experience. The kids who organise these services? They’re your Office Bearers (OBs) – they get elected each year by you, so pay attention! You can get to know them and their plans for the year in the next few pages.

So what services does UMSU give you?

Ever seen your fave band play in North Court or nabbed a free breakfast? That’s UMSU. That free legal advice on how to get out of your Myki fine? Also UMSU. Those free condoms you tried to subtly smuggle out of the queer space? UMSU. If you’re new here – welcome! Your loving O Week host is part of an UMSU volunteering program. UMSU offers volunteering opportunities for all students to be a part of.

UMSU is funded by the Student Services and Amenities Fee (SSAF), that pesky $290 you’ve probably deferred on your loans to pay later. That little bit of dough goes a long way. It helps clubs and societies throw incredible parties and organise professional networking opportunities. By paying the SSAF, you’ve helped save yourself from $100,000 degrees – and you didn’t even know it!

Even your beloved Farrago is funded by the SSAF – without you, there’s no us. We are Farrago editors but our official role falls under the title of UMSU Media Office Bearers.

UMSU is run by a group of student councillors who are also elected every year. Councillors decide how the money from the SSAF is spent and other key functions. Any student can run for election to be a councillor. If governing a multi-million dollar organisation isn’t really your style, you can also run to be a committee member for most UMSU departments.

If university is the first chance you’ve had to fully express yourself, you may be interested in what various UMSU representative departments have to offer. Students are able to catch lunch with the queer bunch or relax in the Wom*n’s Room in Union House. If you think you’ve been mistreated in class or given an unfair mark, the UMSU Education Officers are there to make sure you salvage that P. UMSU provides advocacy services for those who are the most marginalised.

So if you want some help, or simply want to get involved on campus, hit us up. You can be sure UMSU has something you’ll dig. The map to our offices is below. For more information, visit umsu.unimelb.edu.au Danielle, Sebastian, Baya & Caleb UMSU Media Officers 2016

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MAP BY ELOYSE MCCALL

UMSU

MEET YOUR OFFICE BEARERS

PRESIDENT JAMES BAKER

Hi, I’m James Baker, and I am your UMSU president for 2016. I am currently in my 3rd year of a Bachelor of Arts, and I’m majoring in Ancient World Studies. I strongly believe that every person at the University of Melbourne is able to benefit from UMSU in at least one way, depending on what makes you passionate. Being the representative body of all the students at the university, we try and create an atmosphere that is accepting of all people, and we will try and help advocate for your rights as well. If you ever have any questions about how to get involved in some facet of the student union, feel free to come and have a chat about what is best suited for you within the UMSU. I am located within the offices on the first floor of Union House.

GENERAL SECRETARY JAMES BASHFORD

Welcome and welcome back! For over 130 years student unions have been a central part of the Unimelb experience. UMSU runs so much across the University from O-Week to representing you on university committees. Our focus includes defending the quality of our education, supporting students in need and creating a vibrant, inclusive campus life. As General Secretary I’ll often be involved in a little bit of everything while also making sure the union’s running properly and effectively. We have everything from environmental activism to massive parties to advocacy for students with a disability – there’s something for everyone so put yourself out there and get involved! Personally, I got involved protesting against funding cuts and the Liberal Government’s plan for $100,000 degrees. 2016 is an election year, so we’ll be keeping up that fight, but I also want to make sure UMSU continues to grow and offer you more. Remember, we’re here for you, so if you ever want to know more, get in touch!

ACTIVITIES MEGAN POLLOCK & ITSI WEINSTOCK

BURNLEY ERANTHOS BERETTA

Yeah, working hard and getting good grades is great and all, but anyone who’s anyone knows that studying is the least important part about going to uni. When people think about UMSU Activities, they think “whoa, groovy” or “hey, that’s pretty cool” and there’s a good reason for that. Our job is to make sure everyone’s having a fun time for as little money as possible. Check out our FREE weekly Bands & BBQ every Tuesday at North Court. This includes free sausages and veggie burgers, free soft drinks, free alcoholic beverages and free entertainment: acts and bands which are often quite famous: Pierce Brothers, Lime Cordiale and The Beards have all played. We also throw quite a few parties including Start of Uni Party, Cocktail Party, Oktoberfest and a number of really fun trivia nights featuring very cheap booze (drink responsibly, kids). UMSU is nothing but diverse, but the Activities department is the place where the whole uni can come together to have a bit of fun. What do we want to achieve in 2016? Embracing the YOLO lifestyle.

With a global focus on climate ever increasing, UoM’s Burnley Campus is at the forefront of hands-on sustainable environmental education, delivered with the tertiary excellence of one of the world’s leading universities. Haven’t heard of us?

Perhaps keeping our (not so) little botanical Garden of Eden a secret hasn’t been a mistake! But really, we are only a fallen leaf away from the Parkville campus, plus, it’s our birthday! That’s right, we are celebrating 125 years of continuous horticultural education! We will be holding events about growing green, eating green and living green. Once you visit our campus you’ll be green with envy over how impressive our diverse urban sanctuary is. So get your gloves on and let’s get dirty. Come down by the Yarra River for a visit, attend one of our events, or even take an elective with us. While 2016 is a big year for us, raising the profile of Burnley and connecting all of you to one of the international leaders in practical sustainable education is important for everyone!

Facebook: facebook.com/BurnleyStudentReps

CLUBS & SOCIETIES RYAN DAVEY & YASMINE LUU

Hi, we’re your new Clubs Officers! 2016 is set to be a huge year for the C&S Department, with several exciting events lined up. The first of these is the Clubs Expo. This extravaganza is run on South Lawn over two massive days: Thursday 25 and Friday 26 February, providing you with the best chance during O-Week to discover just how much the university has to offer. With over 210 affiliated clubs to choose from, we guarantee that there is a club for you! The clubs themselves have events planned throughout O-Week and the first few weeks of semester for you to enjoy. If you don’t get the chance to catch them at the expo, all of their details will be in the Clubs Guide, a booklet that will be available during the year. By the end of 2016 our goal is to have more clubs than ever for you to choose from.

Email: clubs@union.unimelb.edu.au Facebook: facebook.com/UMSUClubs Website: umsu.unimelb.edu.au/jump-in/clubs

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CALEB TRISCARI

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 17

UMSU

CREATIVE ARTS JOSH LYNZAAT & JEAN TONG

The Creative Arts office is about you, in all of your art-making, art-raving, art-hating, art-having. Whether you’re directing three musicals, curating an exhibition on dogs, or toying with the idea of wrapping wire around a stick and chucking it in a pool under the light of the moon. Whether you’re looking for the theatre office, the arts program coordinator, help on the arts grant form, or friends. Whether you’re looking for life drawing, open mic, performance art, art talks, workshops, deeply political discussions about the nature and purpose of art, or just directions to the bathroom.

We’re here to make sure you get to do it all. Just because you can. If you want. In 2016, our goal is to meet you and get to know you. To say hello. To find out who you are and what you’re interested in. To ask you to bring your hopes and dreams to the first floor of Union House and visit us in that weird corner office that few realise is actually an office containing some arts officers. Help us achieve our goal.

DISABILITIES JESS KAPUSCINSKI-EVANS & CHRISTIAN TSOUTSOUVAS

This year in our campaigns and events we are planning to focus on intersectionality and the department’s openness to all levels of disability. We have made plans for O Week to hold a screening and discussion event of a TV pilot episode or feature film featuring disability. This is part of a series of similar screenings we are planning on holding throughout the year. At our stall we will be giving out department guides, which this year will have personal stories and tips from successful disabled students as well as a map marking out the quiet and accessible spaces on the Parkville campus. We are also planning to hold a workshop at the VCA campus and at Union House Theatre on how to portray disability in the arts, working with Creative Arts on projects related to access representation and demystify disability. We will also continue the work of previous Office Bearers towards the offering of sign language studies by the School of Languages and Linguistics.

EDUCATION (ACADEMIC) TOM CROWLEY & PAUL SAKKAL

Hola! We’re your Education (Academic) officers. We deal with all things courserelated. There are two sides to that: student-facing and uni-facing. On the studentfacing side, we run an info service. We can help if you’re confused or curious about anything to do with your course, and we also publish a whole lot of handy info about subjects and courses in our Counter Course Handbook. On the uni-facing side, we sit on the uni’s senior decision-making committees, representing the views of students in academic policymaking. We’re always looking to hear from you, either to help you out or hear your views on the way the uni runs, so drop us a line on the UMSU Education Facebook page! In 2016, we want to make sure every student in the university receives exam feedback.

Email: educationacademic@union.unimelb.edu.au Facebook: facebook.com/umsueducation Website: umsu.unimelb.edu.au/need-help/education-academic

EDUCATION (PUBLIC) AKIRA BOARDMAN & DOMINIC CERNAZ

In the Education (Public) office we focus on the big picture, paying close attention to any changes to higher education proposed by the university or government. We engage students around campus but also act on a national level, organising and participating in campaigns run by the National Union of Students . The last couple of years have been really busy. The liberal government tried and failed to introduce deregulation, which might have prohibited you from attending the University of Melbourne and reading this right now! We bring like-minded students together in a social and activist environment. Come along to an Education Action Group (EAG) and email educationpublic@union.unimelb.edu.au to get involved! We believe that higher education should be free. We believe that the university can and should improve the quality of education that it provides. We believe that you as a student can protect your education when uniting with other students. In 2016, we want to talk to you, see you, engage you, and fight for your education.

ENVIRONMENT ANISA ROGERS & ZACHARY POWER

The UMSU Environment Department exists because climate change and environmental degradation are concerning realities which students can play an important role in addressing. From offering opportunities to get involved with different campaigns and organisations to advocating for increased campus sustainability, there are so many opportunities. Our collective meetings run every Monday, 12pm at Graham Cornish A, offering updates on campaigns, planning events, great conversations and snacks! We run regular events, including opportunities to learn how to fix your bike, how to cook vegan meals, documentary screenings, forums and workshops! Come and ask us about the Community Garden, the Fossil Free Melbourne University Campaign and participating in environmental programs, along with any new ideas or issues you want to raise.

Email: environment@union.unimelb.edu.au Facebook: www.facebook.com/umsuenviro

18 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CALEB TRISCARI

UMSU

INDIGENOUS TYSON HOLLOWAY-CLARKE & EMILY KAYTE JAMES

QUEER FRANCES CONNORS & LOTUS YE

VCA VAN RUDD

WELFARE SARAH XIA & YAN ZHUANG

Womenjika! Welcome! Our great union and university sit on the lands of the Kulin Nation and the Wurundjeri people and we are the grateful guests of the elders while we study and live here. With Indigenous students from around the country, our collective is a diverse and proud group of people. In our capacity at UMSU our department represents the interests of Indigenous students and do whatever we can to improve their university and life experience. Our department has a stake in just about everything from fun and games to serious representation and support.

So if you are an Indigenous student looking for a community to connect with, look no further. You can get in touch via email or over Facebook. We look forward to helping deliver an amazing year for our biggest cohort ever.

Email: indigenous@union.unimelb.edu.au

The UMSU Queer Department aims to represent and support all LGBTIQ+ students at our university. Get to know us: Frances and Lotus, by attending the queer picnic Wednesday 24 February. Also come and check out our stall at the carnival on Tuesday – we’ll be handing out our brand new zine that has a bunch of info about the Queer Dept, regular events happening and contributions from other students.

Come to the Queer Space (level 3 of Union House) to chill out or attend our regular events, such as Lunch with the Queer Bunch on Wednesdays 1pm and Thursday fun times at 4pm. We’ve also got weekly collectives running all year round.

Keep an eye out for events such as gender diverse clothes swap, Pride Ball, and a Queer Networking Night! Find us on Facebook at UMSU Queer, or email us at queer@union.unimelb.edu.au! We would love to hear from you <3 VCASA fights all forms of oppression, sexism, racism, homophobia and stands for the rights of workers, the poor and marginalised people. We have another battle looming as a result of FAP (Flexible Academic Programming) driven by Melbourne Uni’s desire for increased profits. It’s the biggest proposed university restructure in Australia’s history. It includes introducing the trimester, larger class sizes, longer teaching hours and further casualisation of staff. And this on the back of Melbourne Uni’s BIP (Business Improvement Plan) which is the ongoing axing of 540 jobs – the largest mass redundancy in Australian University history. So our university breaks records. For the wrong reasons! But students fight back. Abbott couldn’t pass plans for $100 000 degrees due to our actions. Besides important protests against cuts and restructuring, we’re running the popular yoga classes, spoken word, student film, murals and other events.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/VCAStudentAssociation/ Hi there, we’re Sarah and Yan, your Welfare Officers for 2016, and we’re here to help make your university experience as inclusive and enjoyable as possible!

We are responsible for connecting students, supporting students’ rights against discrimination and marginalisation and promoting both physical and mental health awareness. We hold a wide variety of programs from free breakfast on Thursday mornings to Stress Less Week and our welfare volunteer program is a wonderful way to get involved in uni life. In times of particular need, we have services such as our emergency Food Bank available and can direct you to the right university support service. We have an abundance of useful resources and information available in our office and we are always happy for a quick chat via email or in person. Our departmental email address is welfare@union.unimelb.edu.au and our office is on Level 1, Union House. What do we want to achieve in 2016? We want to make sure that student wellbeing is consistently prioritised at university, particularly through increased awareness of support services.

WOM*N’S ADRIANA MELLS & HIEN NGUYEN

The Wom*n’s department stands up for all women students on campus! We work to make uni a safe place for women and facilitate feminist activism, plus hosting exciting and fabulous events. Most of our activities take place in the Wom*n’s Room, which is an autonomous (women-only) space on Level 1, Union House. This is a place where women can feel comfortable and safe to be themselves without having to cater to men. The Wom*n’s Room is for you, so make sure to come by!

This year we hope to increase the accessibility of the Wom*n’s Room and continue to foster our different collectives for wom*n. There will be weekly events, special workshops and the Women’s Mentoring Network, so follow us on Facebook and sign up to our newsletter to get involved and keep updated!

Email: womyns@union.unimelb.edu.au Facebook: facebook.com/umsuwomyns Website: umsu.unimelb.edu.au/be-yourself/women

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CALEB TRISCARI

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 19

radio fodder The University of Melbourneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Student Radio Station

www.radiofodder.com ARTWORK BY LYNLEY EAVIS

ARTWORK BY SAM NELSON

WHOSE REALITY? SEAN MANTESSO PLUGS INTO THE VERY REAL WORLD OF VIRTUAL REALITY TECH

V

irtual reality was for decades something that existed solely in the realm of science fiction. I remember watching The Matrix as a child and being blown away by the very idea of a virtual world.

Beyond a few visionaries, most believed virtual reality to be a frivolous pursuit, and rightly so, as the technology could never justify the idea.

The very thought that we could produce a reality that even came close to mimicking actuality was a pipedream.

Yet 2016 could be the year that virtual reality becomes not just viable but profitable. We could be taking the first tentative steps into the vast and uncharted territory between humans and their machines.

The great psychonaut Terence McKenna once said that virtual reality grants “the possibility of walking into the constructs of the imagination”.

The world of reality is constrained but the possibilities of the imagination are endless. It is this enthusiasm that industry heavyweights including Facebook, Sony and HTC are hoping will come to fruition.

The hotly anticipated Oculus Rift has just made its commercial launch, with shipping to begin later this year. Sony’s aptly-named Project Morpheus and the HTC Vive are not far behind, with their official launches set to take place in 2016.

Reports are emerging that Google has decided to join the party as well, with CEO Sundar Puchai moving a key deputy to oversee the development of a dedicated virtual reality division.

The Oculus Rift, the mainstay of virtual reality headsets, was the brainchild of Palmer Luckey, a Californian hardware engineer and self-confessed virtual reality evangelist. He was frustrated at the inadequacy of head-mounted displays back in 2011 and began tinkering in his garage, eventually creating a crude prototype of what would become the Oculus Rift.

Following a hugely successful Kickstarter campaign in 2011 that raised $2.4 million, Facebook acquired Oculus Rift for a staggering $2.2 billion in 2014.

At a glance, the Oculus Rift doesn’t look like much; a headset with a screen on the inside. However actually using this technology, even only as I did with an extremely simple demo, is undoubtedly compelling if not merely for its potential.

As I put the headset on, I certainly had limited expectations.

How transformative could this headset really be? I thought as I strapped it on in the confines of my brother’s bedroom.

22 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

I was instantly transported and found myself looking around a rather basic room containing little more than a desk and some other bland furniture.

However it quickly became somewhat unnerving as I heard music playing and then turned around to notice a faceless gentleman playing the piano behind me. This foreboding and fear-inducing moment was so unexpected that despite the knowledge that it was a simulation, the immersion alone was awe-inspiring.

This simple encounter was enough to have me boarding the hype train and tingling with anticipation for the technology’s potential.

Kyle Mantesso, a software engineer with NAB Labs and my brother, is another who is well and truly on board with virtual reality. Among a growing number of other eager entrepreneurs, he is attempting to develop a new business using virtual reality. ‘360 Reality’ aims to use the Oculus Rift to allow potential buyers to inspect yet-to-be-built houses and apartments.

He points out that while virtual reality is currently pinning its economic hopes in the gaming and entertainment sectors, entrepreneurs like himself are starting to experiment.

“We’re seeing people and businesses innovate and use virtual reality in all sorts of ways. Virtual travel in foreign countries, charity and communication. The health and science sectors are using it for training.”

The most significant step in virtual reality technology is not necessarily visual fidelity but rather the improved tracking and software capabilities of modern devices like the Oculus Rift. The average consumer is able to create and publish software content that can be used anywhere with the headset.

According to former Senior Vice President of EA and current publisher with Oculus Rift, David De Martini, the returns of brute hardware strength are quickly diminishing.

“We don’t need things to look even better; we need the experience to fundamentally change, and the Oculus platform is a fundamental change to how people will experience games.”

Gaming has traditionally been played through a controller on a 2-D screen. One entrepreneurial Melbourne startup, Zero Latency, has used virtual reality technology to do exactly as De Martini predicted and fundamentally change how people experience games.

Zero Latency, which launched midway through 2015, makes interesting use of virtual reality technology by combining it with real world space.

The game taps into the hugely popular ‘zombie horror’ theme

SCIENCE

and uses an empty warehouse combined with an Oculus Rift headset to transport the player into the midst of a zombie invasion.

“Essentially we’re taking the computer from your desk and putting it on your back, combining it with the headset to create a virtual space inside our warehouse.”

Scott Vandelkaar is the creator of Zero Latency and the huge success of his start-up is indicative of how quickly the industry is growing.

“With the rift launching this year we are all excited to see how consumers take to it, it seems like all the major players are dropping their gear this year... we have big plans for more games, not just shooters but more broadly, things like puzzle games.”

This fervent enthusiasm hasn’t convinced everyone however, as some remain sceptical. The virtual reality cynics like to point out that history is littered with the corpses of discarded ideas and devices. Nintendo’s failed 1995 launch of the ‘Virtual Boy’ headset is just one example.

Vandelkaar also points out that there are still flaws in the hardware itself.

“There’s a lot of issues we’ve discovered with VR and all the major companies are doing their best to address them but the number one problem is going to be people hurting themselves in their own homes.”

Motion sickness has been a thorn in the side for virtual reality pundits. Many, if not most, people will experience motion sickness when using virtual reality headsets, however Vandelkaar points out that this usually only occurs when the player is sitting at a desk.

“Playing a first person shooter, you just can’t move around or you’ll get really sick… in Zero Latency though you get to walk around naturally and it feels extremely normal, it’s great for immersion too because your body is completely at ease and it becomes extremely convincing.”

Despite concerns about motion sickness, the numbers are starting to come in and they are undoubtedly compelling. Virtual reality is set to make $510 million in 2016 and predicted to make as much as $20 billion worldwide by 2020 according to Forbes. It is little wonder then that industry powerhouses like Facebook and Google are beginning to take virtual reality seriously.

Given the promise of future investment and a now hugely enthusiastic consumer base it is pretty clear that virtual reality technology will continue to develop and improve.

This begs the rather irresistible question that, in the future, is

ARTWORK BY DOMINIC SHI JIE ON

it possible mankind will be able to create a virtual world that is indistinguishable from reality?

Long before the advent of modern virtual reality, scientists and philosophers harking right back to Plato’s shadows in a cave have been asking whether our current reality is merely a ‘simulation’.

The simulation hypothesis has been developed by Swedish philosopher Nick Bostrom and purports that we have empirical evidence which could suggest we are existing in a simulation.

Without getting caught up in the semantics of what is a very complicated idea, Bostrom argues that if it is physically possible to create life-like simulations it is very likely we are already living inside of one.

Consider firstly that if humans do reach a point of technological advancement where simulations are easily created, it is not unreasonable to predict that they may soon vastly outnumber legitimate organisms.

Then it begs the question of what makes us believe we are a part of the small minority of truly living beings in amongst a vast swathe of simulated realities.

Vandelkaar points to our technology timeline and how quickly it is advancing. The notion of a simulated reality that even 15 years ago – when The Matrix first infiltrated the zeitgeist – seemed impossible is creeping ever closer to viability.

“The saying goes that if it’s possible to create a virtual world where you truly feel like you’re in another place, what are the chances we’re the first ones to it?”

Before we all get too caught up in the inevitable existential angst these types of questions provoke, Kyle rightly points out that simulated reality is light years beyond an Oculus Rift headset.

“Think about how more vastly complicated it is to replicate all 5 senses, combining them to form a single experience and to a point that it is indistinguishable from reality. Audio and visual is one thing but real simulation requires the manipulation of the brain, a far more complex endeavour.”

Whether we’re already living in The Matrix or truly are the first daring pioneers to colonise the vastness of the imagination, virtual reality is here to stay and has potential to be a transformative technological breakthrough for mankind.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 23

COLUMN NICK PARKINSON PRESENTS

COUNSEL IN COUPLETS A COLUMN OF POETIC PROBLEM-SOLVING FROM: Mary F, Melbourne East Hi Nick, it’s only Thursday and I’ve already bought nine Boosts this week. Help!

It all starts with that one inevitable drink: “Why not get a Passion Mango smoothie?” you think.

After two hours of French and then chemistry, Your body is screaming out, “Get Boost, I’m thirsty!”

You intend to save some money and get a small But you end up with a large, ‘cause you want it all.

Six dollars ninety: a small fortune for crushed fruit But it’s all that will get you through your next tute.

More than your bank statement, you’re selling your soul – A deadly addiction leaving you on the dole.

Enticed by the attractive teens in visor caps, You’ve fallen into another corporate trap.

This destructive cycle: it has gone on for weeks And without that vivid lime logo, each day is bleak.

The only way out lies in finding cheaper bevs – Warm chai from the Food Co-op or coffee from Lot Sevs.

Pretend you belong to the Eng Society, Free cider from Christian Club for feigned piety.

Drink from the sprinklers that fill the Systems Garden Steal distilled water, sneak it past the lab warden.

Stinge money off friends and have them buy you a drink, Or, quite simply, fill your bottle up at a sink.

After all, water is always a fine option, Although lacking the flavour of Boost’s concoctions.

Look to your friends: they’ll get you through these hard times After all, a love for Boost beats snorting crack lines.

Every week attend Boost Addicts Anonymous, Rally against this company nefarious.

And soon you’ll celebrate a month sans Kiwi Crush Slowly purging yourself of that sugary mush.

So, dearest Mary, I have faith in your resolve Yes, Boost is evil, but this problem you can solve.

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DEVELOPED A WOE THAT WON’T LET YOU GO? SEND IT TO FARRAGOMEDIA2016@GMAIL.COM ARTWORK BY LUCY HUNTER

COLUMN

COMIC BY XAVIER WARNE

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 25

COMMENTARY

AM I HERE?

ELEANOR MCCOOEY GETS REAL ABOUT DEREALISATION

I

was on my way home when it first happened. Walking back from the train station, the same way I walked every day, twice a day, I suddenly felt as if I no longer knew where I was or who I was.

Had these houses always looked like that? Why was everything so bright? Who am I and what am I doing here? Am I here at all and if not, where the hell am I? These thoughts crashed through my mind at a terrifying rapidity. Familiarity had been ripped from beneath my feet and I was left swaying in a world I could recognise but not comprehend as normal.

These strange sensations began to follow me. At work, I found myself serving customers and wondering if they really existed or not. Around my friends I would zone out of conversations and watch myself as if from the rear of the room. My hands were no longer mine but belonged to a body I knew I inhabited, yet felt barely alive in. I felt estranged from reality – my body detached from my mind and the world around me, my life unfolding behind a glass veil.

After months of grappling with these bizarre feelings and too embarrassed by them to seek help, I turned to the internet in search of reassurance that these experiences were not the first stage of madness or cognitive decline. According to Doctor Google, this pervasive state of feeling “unreal” is one of the first symptoms of Depersonalisation/Derealisation Disorder (DPD), a psychological condition in which the mind’s perception of itself and the external world become warped and distorted.

Not wanting to rely on the internet, I affirmed my knowledge with a mental health worker who assured me that DPD is a normal response to prolonged stress, anxiety, depression, recreational drug use or trauma. Depersonalisation refers to a sense of alienation from selfhood and derealisation describes feelings of detachment from one’s surroundings.

DPD is one of the brain’s coping mechanisms against a perceived threat. When the mind decides it can no longer endure a reality deemed too bewildering to handle, it copes by shutting the world out. This is somewhat ironic – after all, the last thing one needs when one feels anxious or fearful is a heightened and acute sense of having totally lost the plot.

If you have never experienced the terror of no longer being able to fully comprehend a once familiar reality, this idea of estrangement from one’s body and surroundings may seem

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understandably bizarre and unbelievable.

A recent Guardian article quotes studies that have suggested up to two per cent of the population may experience DPD at some stage in their life. Despite this, it is rarely discussed. Perhaps this is also due to the fact that the brain suppresses memory during the attacks, making the feelings and sensations of “unreality” difficult to recall once the mind has regained a sense of safety.

While there is comfort in knowing that DPD is not a psychotic disorder (i.e. sufferers are never convinced of an alternative existence) in some instances this tentative yet unwavering connection to reality can make things worse. You know that these feelings of alienation are amiss but emotionally you fail to accept this logic and descend into panic.

DPD can also be difficult to treat because the more you focus on the feelings, the more you exacerbate them. While cognitive behavioral therapy has been known to benefit some cases of DPD, the lack of awareness and limited research has stymied attempts to prove effective treatment programs.

Over time, I have learned not to fight DPD but instead accept its visitations as temporary. Meditation and yoga are some of the best antidotes; for me, they are as much a prevention as a cure. Awareness is also one of the most important assets in understanding and eventually overcoming the loneliness and fear associated with DPD. Although the stigma surrounding mental illness has thankfully begun to break, we still come to associate people who suffer with those who live in the shadows – people who are not us. The rambling homeless person or the Woody Allen-type neurotic are stereotypes we rely on in order to mitigate our fears about the subversive nature of mental health issues.

And yet, these do not uphold reality. My family and friends had little knowledge of how I was feeling during my experiences of derealisation and depersonalisation – partly because I didn’t talk about it but also because I was able to uphold a semblance of normality. It can be hard to talk about DPD seriously, especially amongst young people who are often invested in exploring the limitations and possibilities of altered consciousness.

DPD is not fun and it certainly isn’t funny. For all its attempts at supplanting you in the unknown and probing your relationship with reality, the destabilising nature of this condition remains very real.

ARTWORK BY BONNIE SMITH

COMMENTARY

THE VAGINAL FRONTIER KIT RICHARDS DISCUSSES WHAT’S UP WITH DOWN THERE

W

ell this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down, and I’d like to take a minute just sit right there, I’ll tell you why I can’t have sex.

I first noticed that something was wrong two years ago. I felt discomfort downstairs and assumed it was thrush, so I selfmedicated. The treatment didn’t work, however, and I noticed that my vulva appeared red and inflamed, so I went to the doctor.

They ruled out STIs pretty easily as I had never had sex. They then tested for bacterial infections, but all the tests came back negative.

The only other thing it could be, according to the doctors, was eczema, so they prescribed me nappy rash cream.

It was the most humiliating thing imaginable, being a grown woman having to use nappy rash cream on her inflamed vagina.

It forced me into a weird predicament; I had to connect to the universe to predict if and when I might possibly hook up with a boy, so I would know to stop using the cream a day or two beforehand. I’d be damned if I became known as the girl whose pussy tasted like Bepanthen.

After a year and a half of living in pain, I finally requested to see a dermatologist for my eczema. I explained my symptoms and she performed an exam on my vagina. After poking around for a little bit, she told me that what I had wasn’t a skin condition at all. It was in fact a muscle condition called Vulvodynia, a chronic pain disorder that affects the pelvic floor muscles.

Basically, my brain associates being penetrated with pain, so whenever a penis-shaped plane requests permission to land, my body automatically braces itself for pain. This causes it to hurt even more, leading my brain to remember that it’s going to hurt and so on and so on. It’s a vicious cycle that takes the same

ARTWORK BY LUCY HUNTER

amount of brain training and will power to overcome as does casting a powerful patronus.

Treatment is different for every woman, as every woman is different but in my case, I had to start seeing a physiotherapist who specialises in pelvic floor conditions. This involved paying a stranger $70 a fortnight to slowly insert her finger inside my vagina to retrain my brain to realise that penetration doesn’t have to hurt.

I joke around about my condition a lot because laughter is the best medicine but I figure now that you all know enough intimate details about me, I can get real with you for a second. The one thing the doctors and specialists won’t discuss with you is the emotional toll that this condition puts on you. The fact is that I have had two boyfriends in my life and both of them have cited my inability to have sex as a major factor in their leaving.

Now I have a compulsion to spread the word about Vulvodynia, not just so other women can be aware of the condition and not have to live in the dark like I did for so long, but to make men aware that just because a woman can’t give you sex doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have worth.

One in five women will experience vulval pain at some point in their life. However, because we are taught to not talk about our vaginas and proper education about women’s health is rare to say the least, many will live in pain for years before seeing anyone about it. So: if you feel like something isn’t right down there, listen to your instincts. You have nothing to be ashamed of and taking control of your body is the most rewarding and empowering thing you can do. As the great Helen Reddy once said, “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman”. Love your va-jay-jay and all the power that comes with it. It’s just trying its best to look out for you.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 27

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ARTWORK BY ELOYSE MCCALL

COLUMN

THE FEMININE CRITIQUE: #SL/ACTIVISM

ADRIANE REARDON INTERVIEWS SLUTWALK MELBOURNE ORGANISER JESSAMY GLEESON TO DISCUSS SLACKTIVISM AND USING SOCIAL MEDIA AS A VEHICLE FOR PROTEST

F

rom #bringbackourgirls to #droptheplus and #freethenipple, 2015 was a year packed with feminist hashtags that came and went. As a form of online protest, Hashtag Activism allows social issues to trend on social media and although Hashtag Activism has proven highly popular to spearhead online campaigns, it has often been criticised. Slacktivism is a term defining a new generation of lazy activists that participate in Hashtag Activism for the sake of trending without serious consideration of social issues. It also suggests that a traditional protest, like a march or a rally, is a more reliable and authentic protest.

The Slacktivism versus Activism debate has directed me to SlutWalk and question if social media protests can actually empower the public, or simply create a temporary online trend.

The term Slacktivism was coined by The New Yorker’s Malcolm Gladwell to define a new generation of lazy activists who use social media to support online petitions. Gladwell’s term suggests that a traditional protest, like a march or a rally, are more reliable and authentic compared to protesting online. This is because traditional protests represent the public’s support more accurately when they occupy a physical space compared to a trending hashtag produced by anonymous users.

SlutWalk is an annual protest that combines a traditional march with online activism. Jess Gleeson, a SlutWalk organiser, considers both traditional and new-age forms of activism as a necessary means to support participants of SlutWalk.

“Activism is really important… social media is really empowering for someone who can participate online.”

Jess credits both online and offline supporters of Slutwalk as anything other than disengaged. SlutWalk began in 2011 in response to the Toronto Police’s statement that “… women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimised”. This was soon followed by global protests against victim blaming and slutshaming carried out in the form of an annual march.

According to Jess, the growing support and engagement of the protest is credited to the online activity of SlutWalk as well as offline activities such as fundraising and the physical protest.

“There is equal participation between our online and offline participants… some people just show up… and some people hashtag on the day.”

The combination of online and offline participants challenge the concept of Slacktivism based on the pretence that Hashtag Activism is any less effective to encourage participation from the public compared to a physical rally.

As Jess explained, “Critiques view Hashtag Activism as an ‘easier’ way of doing activism, or protesting, rather than marching down a street or attending a rally.”

Jess noticed that SlutWalk’s combination of live protests and online mediums encourage participation from a young audience.

“We have noticed in the last two years a haul of contingent supporters at SlutWalk Melbourne … it shows our ability to get new ideas constantly… and gain more diversity and inclusivity.”

Jess essentially rejects the term Slacktivism in any sense by crediting social media as one of the most valuable tools to enhance engagement amongst their organisation. She explains that “… Hashtag Activism is a modern day equivalent of ‘consciousness raising’”. This is a form of traditional activism used during Second Wave Feminism in the 1960s and 1970s, whereby a feminist collective informed the wider public of issues of gender inequality.

Criticising online protests and Hashtag Activism, as Jess would explain, is virtually outdated.

“The ‘demonisation’ of social media and the internet promotes the concept that things were better in the good old days. This is the 21st Century… – a lot of the time it’s not about activism but it’s about connecting to other people in remote communities so they are not disconnected.”

Jess’ comments are a nod towards feminist protests that have occurred on social media. Hashtags in 2015 such as #solidarityisforwhitewomen and #heforshe have the ability to challenge mainstream ‘white, liberal and western’ feminist campaigns and encourage participation and collaboration from alternate feminist groups. These include Black feminism, ecofeminism and radical feminism on a global scale. Social media, as Jess points out, helps encourage feminist participation in all forms.

“The platforms that we use hashtags with (Twitter and Facebook) are necessary and the hashtags are a means for people to track what we’re doing.”

The old-new dynamic of SlutWalk suggests that one of the most valued aspects of social media activism is to allow those that could not participate in a protest previously, whether that be physically, emotionally or systemically, to contribute ideas and access resources online in order to recognise intersectional feminism and encourage feminist diversity.

It’s fair to predict that the Slacktivism vs. Activism debate will continue to exist in 2016 where, like 2015, a number of feminist protests will gain awareness on social media. Some hashtags will consider important issues of gender equality in our society and some hashtags won’t be in our newsfeeds forever.

For now, social media does not simply offer you the opportunity to hit the like button, it can empower people online and offline amongst different generations, genders and locations to engage with their communities and explore feminism in all its forms.

Jessamy Gleeson is currently studying her PhD on social media’s influence on feminism in Australia. She is currently moving into her third year as an organiser at SlutWalk Melbourne.

SlutWalk Melbourne will next be held in September, 2016. For more information on their protests, or if you would like to get involved, visit their website http://slutwalkmelbourne.com.au/ or their Facebook page ‘SlutWalk Melbourne’.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 29

COMMENTARY

COMEBACK KING PETER TZIMOS IS PROUD TO BELIEB

I

stand up and feel queasy, the sweat sticking to the back of my shirt. My heart is trembling and I find myself saying the words I’ve thought about for so long but could never escape my mouth.

“My name is Peter and I’m a Belieber.”

There is a round of applause, a few nervous coughs and the faint pulse of ‘What Do You Mean’ – some fucked-up hair of the dog method of therapy – playing in the background. I take a seat and breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, I have exposed my sins to the world. The process of healing has begun.

This is how I imagine the world’s first Beliebers Anonymous session would go. Unless someone has already gotten a head start, in that case I personally apologise for the pain that you’ve experienced, and I hope that you find peace in your attempts at leading a JB-free lifestyle.

The Biebs’ comeback came as a surprise, what with the vandalism, drugs and general pre-pubescent tomfoolery seen from the teen sensation in the last few years. To me, a newly successful Justin Bieber is like a freshly toupéed Donald Trump – fun to laugh at but terrifyingly powerful. His reach has defied all age and gender boundaries – even the Straight White Male can now acceptably find comfort in the tunes of J-Biebs. There must be something about the coupling of bleached blonde hair and poorly veiled sexism…

Alas, the initial perception of JB as ecstasy for pre-teen girls has certainly matured. The certified, Tom Haverford approved bangers ‘Sorry’ and ‘What Do You Mean?’ have dominated radio charts and the Ed Sheeran-written ‘Love Yourself’ has become my dad’s favourite jam (trust me, that’s saying something – he still listens to ABBA). Bieber’s new album Purpose, although marred by the token humanitarian-inspired ‘Children’, is catchy and well produced. It seems the teen heartthrob’s musical break gave him some much needed insight.

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Whether you and I like it or not, Justin Bieber is still a pervasive part of our culture. He’s no Jeff Buckley but your middle-aged neighbours love him and it’s still his song you don’t skip on your morning run. He is inescapable, omnipotent to the point that I am constantly trying to find ways to dodge the vaguely symbolic and Illuminati-inspired album cover. Take it from me, listening to the Star Wars soundtrack on repeat does not help. You could say that ‘The Feeling’ for JB is unavoidable.

Revealing holiday snaps, rumours of Kardashian escapades and an extremely uncomfortable father-son tweet have also reminded us of the ways in which the Biebs has grown up. He has become the sleazy, tantrum-throwing brat that we all knew he’d grow up to be. Yet this stain on our musical sheets will remain. Twenty years in the future, ‘Mark My Words’ will play on Gold 104.3 and we will jam as our children and bionic pets reel in disgust. His comeback, despite his shittiness as a human being, has been profoundly and confusingly successful.

Missy Elliot, Adidas Superstars, moustaches, Adele, the brilliantly dubbed ‘Mcconnaissance’ – none have been able to alter the public’s perception like the Comeback King has. As a teen, there were two things I vowed to never support: Justin Bieber and flared jeans. At this rate, it seems that I’m headed for a disastrously dressed 2016.

To all those confused by this longing for the Biebs, I provide you with a warning: stay away from Canada, Selena Gomez and snapbacks. It is only in this way that you’ll be safe. It’s too late for me. I’ve already written this… is it too late now to say sorry?

Try to escape the phenomenon that is Justin Bieber and refrain from slipping his lyrics into everyday conversation, boths feats that I have yet to achieve.

Sincerely, I hope you find a more deserving purpose than Purpose in the start of this cultural calendar year.

ARTWORK BY KATIA Pellicciotta

COLUMN

FOR & AGAINST

BY TYSON HOLLOWAY-CLARKE

I

KANYE WEST

t’s clear why people hate Kanye. He may be the most divisive contemporary figure, a point that Kanye outright admits, stating “I’m too Black, I’m too vocal, I’m too flagrant”.

You might hate him for his fame and fortune. There is a good chance you hate him for his wife, the love of his life. It might be his personality, though who among us can claim to actually know him?

What I do know is that you will struggle to find a more passionate and outspoken artist. No one else had the balls to call out Bush on Katrina. No one else is denouncing fashion and clothing companies for their deceit and disrespect. My favourite moments were when he let the paparazzi know just how pathetic they are and wouldn’t let the smug Jimmy Kimmel off the hook.

The good comes with the bad and I would not change a thing.

The most referenced Kanye moment would be his show-stealing Taylor Swift confrontation at the Video Music Awards (VMAs) in 2009. Few remember that he was once similarly overlooked at the American Music Awards in 2004, Kanye missing the honours for Best New Artist for The College Dropout at the hands of another country artist (Gretchen Wilson – who?). As uncomfortable as his VMA antics were, it was undeniably an empathetic act for a close friend and a once in a lifetime performer. Who else would do the same? He was also one hundred per cent right in his assessment; ‘Single Ladies’ and all its artistic components still reverberate in our minds to this very day and I’d wager you can’t remember the song or video that won Taylor Swift the infamous award.

The worst thing Kanye has done is express himself and try and be the best. Album after album, Kanye pushes himself and his contemporaries to new heights. Don’t believe me? Here is your taste tester: ‘Hey Mama’ live at the Grammys and his full interview on Sway in the Morning. Actually pay attention and follow along. If you don’t want to listen or be witness that is your choice. You can hate him if you want. I’ll wait here for when you are ready to grow up and appreciate what this man does for us. To deny his talent and heart is to deny truth itself.

With the frequency of Kanye-bashing, let’s pause for perspective.

Fifty years ago Kanye would have been shot in the street. If it wasn’t the Klan, it would have been the government. If it wasn’t either of them it would have been one of the brothers cutting him down out of jealously. In the face of hostility, Kanye still gives us the gift we probably don’t deserve, the expressions of an artist still trying to climb to that next great peak. If you don’t believe in Yeezus, remember what the Romans thought about Jesus.

ARTWORK BY KATIA Pellicciotta

T

BY ROSE DOOLE

here is so much wrong with Kanye West, I’m not even sure where to start. His permanent pout, his history of throwing hissy fits over losing awards or his announcement of his intention to run for the US presidency in 2020? In fact, Kanye’s sole virtue may be the amount of fodder he provides the world with to make fun of him.

For years I assumed the Kanye fandom was a big inside joke or statement of irony that I wasn’t quite in on. This is a guy who labels himself a lyrical genius and the voice of a generation and so pretty much sets himself up as a massive wanker from the start.

With song titles like ‘Drunk and Hot Girls’ and ‘I Am A God’, who could argue with this clearly deep and modest artiste?

Poor Kanye doesn’t have it easy though and he shared his inner struggle in a 2009 interview, stating, “I am God’s vessel. But my greatest pain in life is that I will never be able to see myself perform live.” If you can hear someone say that about themselves and not have your douche-ometer start beeping, then you need to get it checked.

Kanye West is someone who charged $120 for a plain white t-shirt in his latest clothing line, setting him up not only as an overrated musician but also as a face of materialistic capitalist consumerism. He’s a guy who interrupted T-Swizzle’s acceptance of her 2009 Video Music Award and later labelled it a selfless act in the name of maintaining artistic integrity, despite being a selfdeclared “proud non-reader of books”.

While the declaration of his intention to run for the US presidency in the 2020 elections have provided wonderful material for internet humour and ‘Yes We Kanye’ jokes, stop and ponder for a moment the idea of his success. Doesn’t Kanye just come across as someone to whom the idea of an authoritarian dictatorship would appeal, with portrait photos of his face hung Mao-like in every classroom and lounge room in the US? Pumping out the occasional club banger does not, in my opinion, erase these cold hard arrows which point to him being an enormous tosser. However, despite all these reasons to hate on Kanye, it seems unlikely he’ll be heeding the haters any time soon.

As he himself said, “When you’re the absolute best, you get hated on the most”.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 31

It’s a World Wide Web Out There BELINDA LACK BROWSES THROUGH THE HISTORY OF THE WEB

T

here’s a piffling argument about when to celebrate the birthday of the World Wide Web. Many mark 12 March 1989 as its day of creation. It was on this date that Tim Berners-Lee submitted a proposal for a new Information Management System to his boss at the European Organisation for Nuclear Research (CERN).

Almost exactly nine months after his proposal, Berners-Lee physically brought the first web page, web browser and server software into the world. This was on 20 December 1990, an alternative date some celebrate instead.

Perhaps the day you choose depends on whether you view the web as a conceptual or physical invention.

We tend to use the words internet and web interchangeably, thereby blurring crucial distinctions between infrastructure, software and abstract ideas about information sharing. What many people might not know, is that whilst Berners-Lee was in the midst of refining his project, the internet had already existed for some time.

Back in 1965, two people had managed to connect a computer in Massachusetts to one in California using a dial-up-telephone line, impressively creating the first wide-area network. The problem with telephone lines however, is that when you speak, there is only one line to transfer your conversation to the other end, meaning that when the line is in use no one else can make a call.

Imagine if every computer in the world had to be rigged up to all the others with separate phone lines? How slow! And who would pay for all the wiring?

The solution was packet switching. Say you want to send a friend an IKEA coffee table for their birthday, sending such a big thing via post is unwieldy and expensive. So you break it into smaller parts, give the pieces to other friends and ask them to drop those pieces off when they next visit the lucky friend’s place.

The table can be assembled on arrival.

This is a thoughtless manner by which to send gifts but a great way of sending data through networks. In packet switching, data is broken down into packets and each one has the address (IP) of the computer it wants to get to. When there are lots of smaller packets, they don’t have to follow a direct route down one wire in the way that your telephone conversation does.

Data can break up and go all over the place (sometimes to different countries) before it arrives where we want it. Routers help the data decide which direction is the most efficient at any given moment. Once all the data has been delivered, Transmission Control Protocol (TCP) tells the computer how to reassemble the data in the right order, just like an IKEA instruction manual, but probably easier to understand.

During the Cold War, the US military was interested in protecting sensitive information being conveyed to and from distant installations. They were convinced enough of the potential of packet switching to see through its development. On 30 August

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1969, four computers were connected to each other in what was called ARPANET, the world’s first internet.

So if computers can send data to one another with ease, what do we need the web for? It all comes down to user friendliness.

The idea Berners-Lee proposed was actually intended to solve internal problems at CERN. CERN is that place in Switzerland where they smash tiny particles together (ostensibly at the world’s peril). It’s a hub of extremely intelligent, creative physicists who work on large, brow-furrowing projects.

Back then, they had trouble sharing and keeping track of the all the information they produced. Berners-Lee noted: “…all the information could be written in a big book. [But] keeping a book up to date becomes impractical, and the structure of the book needs to be constantly revised.”

His solution was to do away with a classical hierarchical and fixed system of information sharing in favour of “a ‘web’ of notes with links (like references) between them”.

In his proposal, Berners-Lee referenced a term that was coined way back in the ’60s by a guy named Ted Nelson – Hypertext.

Nelson describes Hypertext as “non-sequential writing”. It allows users to follow ideas, breaking from a text or media and moving to another at their will.

Nelson noted that speech and books have to be sequential for the sake of convenience, but that “the structure of ideas are not sequential. They tie together every which way”. Hypertext thus gives power to the user, allowing them to seek information in a way that mirrors their brain’s own functions much more closely than say, your mum’s old Encyclopedia Britannica set.

CERN scientists came from all over the world and so they used many different kinds of computers such as old Unix, Macs and PCs. If different computers are going to talk to each other efficiently they need a common language, a set of rules. So Berners-Lee developed Hypertext Transfer Protocol (HTTP), a computer language that enabled these computers to request and retrieve information from each other using hypertext links.

He also invented the first web server, Nexus. A web server is a computer that waits for a request to come from another computer – a browser. When you click a link in your browser, it builds a request in the computer’s common language (HTTP). The server reads it and sends back the requested files.

These languages, processes and wires were all weaved together

by Berners-Lee to support the world’s first webpage, which still exists today – Google ‘World’s First Website’ for a geeky and underwhelming experience).

Following the success of ARPANET, commercial internet service providers showed up in the late ’80s. Finally in 1991, CERN very kindly bequeathed the World Wide Web to the world – another possible birthdate, if you view the web as something that should be accessible to everyone.

ARTWORK BY Frances Rowlands

COLUMN

Thiashya Jayasekera PRESENTS A COLUMN ABOUT THE BIG QUESTIONS IN SCIENCE

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nakes and fish do it. Cats and dogs do it. Fetuses in the womb do it. But despite being such a common phenomenon, the reasons we yawn remain a mystery.

You may be ten minutes into a lecture about Drosophila, or maybe you’ve just woken up, dreary eyed and slumber-faced, or perhaps you’ve just witnessed someone else do it. A compelling urge seems to manifest from deep within your being and the more you try to suppress it the more it consumes you. And now you’re yawning and so is that person you awkwardly made eye contact with. Before you know it you’ve started an epidemic.

A yawn is a true test of the physical capabilities of your face to stretch without dislocating your jawbones. But really, it’s a coordinated, purposeful (however inexplicable that purpose may be) movement of your thoracic muscles.

In the late ’80s, Robert Provine, a leading expert in the not-solucrative field of yawning, wrote that “[yawning] has the dubious distinction of being the least understood, common human behaviour”. It’s been more than three decades and scientists have yet to reach a consensus as to what purpose yawning serves.

It’s mystified scientists and laymen for almost 2,500 years.

The famous Father of Medicine, Hippocrates, theorised that during fevers, yawning releases noxious air. He wrote that “…the accumulated air in the body is violently expelled from the mouth when the body temperature rises”.

In the 18th and 19th Centuries, scientists challenged this theory and proposed that yawning is a mechanism that increases alertness by raising blood pressure, heart rate and oxygen levels.

This logic persists even today – the most accepted explanation of our jaw-widening, mouth-gaping incidences is that it brings an abundance of oxygen-rich air to the brain, keeping us alert during periods of boredom or sleepiness.

But that myth has been busted.

Studies have shown that yawning doesn’t increase oxygen levels, and if it did, wouldn’t you expect to be yawning while exercising?

Turns out, yawning has less to do with respiration and more to do with thermoregulation.

First up, Andrew Gallup, a psychological researcher from SUNY College proposed that the stretching of our jaw increases blood flow to the skull, carrying away excess heat, whilst the simultaneous inhalation cools the blood flowing into the brain.

That’s why we yawn the way we do.

Furthermore, Steven Platek, a psychology professor at Georgia Gwinnet College, found that in studies of mice, yawns were preceded by increases in brain temperatures and followed by significant cooling.

In a nutshell, yawning prevents the brain from overheating. All the things that we associate with yawns – sleep, stress, boredom – are characterised by fluctuations in brain temperature. The body and brain are at their highest temperatures before we fall asleep and when we wake up, accounting for those typically sleepy yawns.

Finally, Jorg Massen and his team from the University of Vienna conducted an experiment to see if people were more or less likely to yawn at different temperatures.

Participants holding a warm pack to their foreheads were likely to yawn 41 per cent of the time when watching a video of others yawning, compared to nine per cent for those holding cold packs. The brain functions more efficiently when it’s working at its optimum temperature, which may explain why we feel more alert after a hearty yawn.

If this is the case, then why is yawning contagious? Some have suggested that it is a positively contagious phenomenon which maintains herd behaviour. Perhaps the subconscious mimicry cues other individuals to regulate their neural processes, or perhaps it serves a social function.

Studies have shown that our susceptibility to contagious yawning correlates to our capacity for empathy. The areas of

ARTWORK BY Reimena Yee

the brain activated during contagious yawning, the posterior cingulate and precuneus, are involved in processing our own and others’ emotions.

Platek states that 60 to 70 per cent of people yawn contagiously, and this occurs more frequently in individuals who have a high score on measures of empathetic understanding.

Yawning is so contagious that we only need to think about it to want to yawn. By this point, you’re probably stifling more than a few yawns and hopefully it’s not from boredom.

A word of advice: if you ever find yourself in a situation where you cannot appropriately satisfy that yearning to yawn (perhaps during a particularly tedious conversation), breathe through your nose and you’ll be rid of the sensation completely.

The yawn remains a brain-boggling phenomenon, but the next time you find yourself jaws astretch, know that you are revelling in one of life’s most enduring mysteries.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 33

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COLUMN

COMIC BY KERRY JIANG

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 35

COMMENTARY

UNIFORM OF CHAINS I

words BY Madison McCormack

magine a place that is so green you can barely look at it.

Imagine that this place has a sky so enormous and full of incandescent constellations you have never seen before.

Imagine that beneath that sky lives an elephant named Kamlin.

She has been alive for 89 years and has only experienced the respect and reverence her magnificence demands for the past three, due to the horrors inflicted by ignorant Western tourists.

I met her two hours North of Siem Reap, where the Save Elephant Foundation maintains their 25,000-acre Cambodian Wildlife Sanctuary. The sanctuary consists of a sweltering stretch of tropical forest, which needs to be patrolled by the military in case illegal loggers decide they would like a piece of its pristine beauty.

Volunteers with dirt under their fingernails and hair crusted in sweat swing in hammocks between jobs. The labour is strenuous but the peace is immense. When night-time casts itself over the sanctuary, you cannot help but feel the gentle presence of the wild animals that sleep in the forests close by, free of the captivity and exploitation they were once harnessed by.

Kamlin likes to eat pumpkin and papaya. She despises baths.

She is completely blind due to old age but she is well aware when you stand next to her with some delectable food in your hand.

Naturally, she is enormous. Yet as she grinds her sugar cane and tastes the air with her trunk, sitting quietly beneath her feels entirely safe. It is so hard to believe that anyone ever wanted to make this gentle, ancient creature bleed.

The fact is that Kamlin, alongside many other elephants that were rescued from the Asian tourism industry, has a painfully dark past.

Although most would be opposed to elephants being injured and treated as mere tools in the ruthless logging industry, it often comes as a surprise to people when they discover the elephant they rode on their Thailand holiday at fourteen suffered the same maltreatment.

There is no authenticity in riding an elephant, only naivety. In order for an elephant to become submissive, it must be separated from its mothers and withstand torturous ordeals at the hands of humans, so that it may learn the concept of control. Clubs and bullhooks are used throughout the process until the fear of being stabbed motivates them to carry sweaty, camera-bearing humans on their backs, who later go home to post their photographs on social media as a means of sharing their ‘spiritual experience’.

And the scary thing is, we all know that it isn’t natural for an elephant to willingly cart a human through the jungle it should be wandering freely in. The problem is that we just see what we want to see through our rose-coloured, knock-off Ray-Bans.

Approximately 30 per cent of the entire Asian elephant population are currently living out their days as puppets of human entertainment. They are often kept in solitude, deprived of the warmth of large family units that wild elephants tend to stay within.

Cambodia Wildlife Sanctuary is a rarity within a culture so violently fuelled by ignorant tourism. There are no crowds, no chains and no stage shows, only elephants being elephants.

Although it was life-changing to spend time with Kamlin, it’s truly heartbreaking to know how many are left shackled, destined to play their part in the unnatural circus constructed by humans.

The only acceptable way to interact with elephants is from a respectable distance chosen by the elephant itself. Reducing them to the point at which they become a spectacle, useful only for human novelty, is equally as immoral as poaching them for the opulent ivory of their tusks.

If I could go back to the day I sat perched upon a nameless elephant feeling cultured and magnificent, I would.

But I would tell myself to look more closely at the way the mahout presses his bull hook firmly against the creature’s ancient skin. I would tell myself to stop ignoring the uniform of chains that cry out in metallic shrieks of injustice with each movement the elephant makes.

I would weave my fingers through the dirty forest of hair on the creature’s heavy head and I would apologise, over and over again.

36 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

ARTWORK BY Carolyn Huane

COMMENTARY

WHERE WOULD WE BEE? I

WORDS BY Carly Cassella

magine the world 135 million years ago. Imagine a time when dinosaurs roamed the earth and the planet did not look anything like it does today.

If you could pry your eyes away from that T-Rex for one moment you would notice something remarkable. There were no flowers. No orchids, no daisies, no Valentine’s Day. Yet all of that was about to change, because one little creature became the most specialised and successful pollinator the world has ever seen.

The emergence of the bee enormously diversified the flora of our planet. Before insects, plants relied entirely on wind pollination. It was pure chance whether a male plant’s pollen found its way to a female plant. Wind pollination was a dating nightmare. It was an extremely inefficient and wasteful system with about 99.99 per cent of the pollen just going to waste.

Bees became the most efficient way of distributing pollen for plants. Visually attractive plants like flowers essentially evolved as a marketing campaign to attract bees and other insects. Bees made the process of finding a female flower infinitely easier and far more predictable than it had ever been before.

The first bumblebee emerged 30-40 million years ago and became a backbone to the world’s ecosystem. But the real problem is: what happens to plant life – in fact, all life – on earth when you take away that structural support?

The relationship that bees have with plants is responsible for billions of dollars of food products and 85 per cent of flowering plants. Bees pollinate one third of global food supplies. Yet honeybee colonies have decreased by 20 per cent in Europe and nearly three times that in North America in the past twenty years. In Australia, the honey and bee products industry is valued at approximately $90 million per annum and pollination services contribute millions of dollars to the value of Australian agricultural production each year.

The reason for the rapid decline in bees is still under contention. Global warming and pesticides like neonicotinoids, used for agricultural seed treatment, have been named as leading culprits. Native bees are responsible for 90 per cent of watermelon pollination and produce far more apples, blueberries and tomatoes than honeybees. Unlike honeybees, native bees are not under the protection of humans. In North America, 50 per cent of native bee species in the Midwest have disappeared.

We must act soon if we want to save our crops from further degradation.

In 2014, President Obama established a Pollinator Health Task Force and the USDA promised $8 million in incentives for farmers who create new habitats for honeybees. In Australia, the National Bee Pest Surveillance Program carefully monitors the introduction of pests that may affect bee populationsS and the National Bee Biosecurity Program has been set up to increase the preparedness and surveillance of pests and diseases in the honey industry.

Yet economic harms are often difficult for the average citizen to fathom. If bees disappeared tomorrow, it is not just honey that would vanish. The human diet would suffer a great loss. Many staple foods like corn, wheat and rice would remain, however your cup of coffee each morning would cost exponentially more.

Almonds would likely not exist. Blueberries, avocadoes, apples, onions, grapes, walnuts, watermelon and strawberries would become scarce. Kiss that summer pavlova goodbye.

As an individual, you can start by planting flowers free from pesticides in your backyard or in community gardens. Buying locally grown fruit, vegetables and honey will go a long way in supporting local beekeepers. The Queen Vic markets or The University of Melbourne farmer’s market are perfect places to start.

However helpful these changes will be, if we want long-term protection for our ecosystem, global climate change must be combatted on an international level. Otherwise, bee populations will be as exhausted as humans will be if our morning cup of coffee doesn’t come cheap.

ARTWORK BY Amie GREEN

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 37

COMMENTARY

IT’S ALL GREEK TO ME JAMES AGATHOS GRAPPLES WITH HIS GREEKNESS

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rowing up, the closest thing I ever felt to Hellenic pride was after Helena Paparizou’s ‘My Number One’ won the Eurovision Song Contest in 2005. It’s not that I resented being Greek or anything. It’s just that as a kid, I never really felt any connection to that part of my identity. It was kind of inconsequential to me – like the AFL or Kim Kardashian’s butt implants. It just wasn’t something I thought about that often.

Anyone who has ever been friends with a Greek Australian can attest to how weird this is. No one does national pride like the Greeks. When you combine that kind of fervent patriotism with the fear of being forced to assimilate into Australian culture, the nationalism gets amplified up to eleven.

For most of us, the pressure is on from an early age to track down a Good Greek Girl™, churn out some children and start a family. Unsurprisingly, the few Greek kids I knew in primary school grouped together like pack animals by shared virtue of Greekness. Their weekends were spent being relentlessly drilled with grammar while crammed into tiny desks at Greek school.

My Australian-born parents were far more lax. They refused to force us into doing anything we didn’t want to. And so, lo and behold, I turned out to be the embodiment of any old papou or yiayia’s worst nightmares – I am the poster child for cultural assimilation.

I know next to nothing about Greek culture and my language abilities border somewhere south of abysmal. Family gatherings usually consist of the same dialogue repeated ad nauseam in extremely broken Greek.

“Oh sorry, I don’t speak Greek” “You don’t speak Greek? Why not?”

“I dunno. I understand a bit but I can’t speak it.”

“But why?” “…I don’t know.”

For the response this usually garners, I may as well have expressed the desire to do the Zorba dance on my ancestors’ graves. Offending older family members became somewhat of a theme. They clearly didn’t agree with my choice of barbies and goon sacks over gyros and ouzo.

I can remember sitting in my aunt’s lounge room with my extended family when the Socceroos played Greece in a friendly match in 2006. I was a lone figure in green and gold amongst a sea of blue and white. For that night I took on a new identity, referred to only as “Skippy” and “Skipboy”.

Weirdly, this was never an issue that plagued my siblings.

Both speak the language to a passable extent but somewhere along the line I fell through the cracks of Greekness. So there I was, too Australian to really be Greek, but too Greek to really be Australian. On the outside I was tzatziki but inside I was Coles tomato sauce.

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Funnily enough, it’s only recently that this has started to change. Now, when being Greek is probably more uncool than ever, I’ve started to develop a much stronger association with my background. Just last year, I was over at a friend’s house and met his father for the first time. After we exchanged pleasantries he squinted at me, scrutinising my facial features.

“You’re Greek, yeah?” I confirmed that I was.

“Oh, well then I guess I should congratulate you guys on inventing sex!”

I immediately knew where this joke was going. I’ve heard it thousands of times before and yet I struggle to think of a time when it had ever been funny. I brace myself for the punchline.

“Yeah, luckily we Italians decided to introduce it to women!”

He pauses briefly, before letting out a howl of laughter that must have registered on the Richter scale, his sagging jowls bouncing with mirth. My insides shrivel up a little bit. I manage a forced laugh in response, but I’m dead inside.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not adverse to a bit of good-natured ribbing. Yet, with Greece’s recent economic troubles, I find myself getting more and more defensive whenever I see my country coming under attack. The more I’m forced to defend it, the closer the connection I feel to my heritage and vice versa. I’ve never been a particularly patriotic person. However, it’s always enough to get my blood boiling when I see recent graduates of the ‘Facebook School of Economics’ impart their wisdom about how the crisis is “’cos of those lazy self-entitled Greeks who never work.” In those moments, I’m tempted for a second to smash a plate on the ground, yell “Opa!” and shank them with a souvlaki skewer.

My relationship with my cultural background has been a rocky one, at times filled with neglect, but we’ve started to reconcile our differences. Over the last few weeks I’ve been trying my hand at some Greek courses on the internet, attempting to wrap my head around all the intricacies of grammar that has tortured me for so much of my life. I’ve even started making friends with other people based on mutual Greekness. My newly honed tzatziki senses allow me to sniff them out at will.

In retrospect, it seems pretty ridiculous that I was so keen to ignore my background. Sure, I’m Australian born and raised but that doesn’t negate my Greekness. There’s no reason why my cultural identity should have to be one or the other.

I mean, in a country where we supposedly pride ourselves on multiculturalism, why on earth would anyone want to assimilate into some homogenous cultural sludge? Why have a melting pot when we can have a mosaic?

ARTWORK BY Sam Nelson

COMMENTARY

ALWAYS READ THE LABEL KATIE DOHERTY ON THE IMPORTANCE OF LANGUAGE

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he other day, a straight friend told me there were too many labels. She told me people should just be what they are.

She told me this like she had ever lived a day without a comfortable box to fit in, like she knew what this felt like.

It’s not exactly an unpopular opinion so I don’t blame her. As a society, we’ve barely gotten over the idea that some people like people of the same sex. Trying to explain the full spectrum of sexuality and gender can be difficult. Trying to do away with labels is, for some, an attempt at kindness and acceptance. But in our heteronormative society, all this will do is strip away our identities.

I identify as falling on the spectrum of asexuality. Asexuality – an orientation loosely defined as a lack of sexual attraction – may be one of the least visible groups and certainly one which people often doubt, given our culture’s preoccupation with sex. It’s hard to realise that you are asexual, not only because it can be hard to accept, but because most people just don’t know it’s a thing. It’s not something you want to bring up, because when everything you know about the world suggests that sexual desire is part of the human experience, the natural conclusion to come to is that someone who doesn’t feel it is wrong or damaged.

I vividly remember tearful nights spent googling various mental illnesses, searching for psychopathy tests – I was trying to put a name on what was wrong with me. Everyone else seemed to have all these feelings, all the time. Surely there had to be something awry. I later found my answer, on a different corner of the internet, under the title of ‘demisexuality’.

But it’s a story I hear over and over again. People think they are broken until someone explains these words to them. It’s always a relief. Roger Fox, an asexual man, was once quoted in the Washington Post saying he “didn’t know it was an actual thing that other people experienced… when [he] realised there were other people, it was really kind of a joyful moment”.

I can’t speak for the other letters of the LGBTQIA+ alphabet, but

ARTWORK BY Jasmin Isobe

I imagine it would be the same. Someone who doesn’t fit binary genders discovering all the other things they could be. Someone finding out that pans aren’t only an implement for cooking.

In some ways, the dream of a world without labels is a good one. After all, gender and sexuality tend to be so fluid that it would almost make more sense to lose any and all descriptors, and simply live as people.

But we don’t live in a perfect world – we live in reality, where everyone is assumed to be straight and cisgendered until proven otherwise. And flexibility is rarely seen as proof – bisexuals are ‘just doing it for attention’, or asexuals ‘just have to find the right person’. Usually, the mere suggestion is met with a blank stare.

Clinging to our labels allows us to tackle the ignorance that exists in the outside world.

But this ignorance is also internalised: we hear the same things so often that we begin to say them to ourselves. By having both a name for what we are, and the community that comes along with that, we at least have an internal rebuttal. Wanting to erase labels isn’t being accepting of us, and it isn’t trying to make us more accepting of ourselves. It’s this ‘special snowflake’ idea – people think we just want to seem different, interesting or individual.

But all we’re doing is giving names to age-old phenomena with an intention that is the opposite of self-obsessed individualism. We want to know that there are others who are the same.

To do this, we need to give names to our experiences. Humans build our world out of words, more than any other material. Not everyone feels the need for a specific label but for many people, giving a word and a definition to our identities legitimises them and makes it possible to explain ourselves to other people. It allows a person to understand their own experience. It makes them feel less alone.

Words are important. They can even be lifesaving. So please, stop trying to take them away.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 39

COMMENTARY

THE WORST PART ABOUT BEING A STORMTROOPER MARY NTALIANIS ON THE DARKER SIDE OF THE DARK SIDE

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he worst part about being a Stormtrooper is needing to pee.

Think about it.

The rigid white plate that covers my pelvis holds my junk so firmly in place that it practically inverts. Every time I need to take a leak, my standard issue belt needs to be unclasped so carefully and slowly around the back that it can take up to five minutes to remove it. Once I was in such a rush to take a wizz that I forgot my blaster was clipped onto the back of my belt and nearly shot myself in the foot!

What’s even worse is that with a helmet on, aiming is almost impossible. I have to stand a metre back from the bowl just to see which direction the stream is heading in. The poor blokes in sanitation have had to scrub my piss off the walls more times than you could count.

And you’d think they’d give us some time out of those suits to sleep. Wrong again!

We’re allowed to remove our helmets to sleep but otherwise, unless we’re showering, the suits stay.

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night to run to the loo.

You’re half asleep and stumbling. Your belt won’t unclasp and you’re leaking in places you shouldn’t be leaking. All of a sudden Captain Phasma is behind you: “Did I give you permission to leave your bunk TD-1002?”

We Stormtroopers have fought against some of the greatest armies, from the Rebellion to the Resistance. We are brave warriors and yet half of us have pissed our pants just trying to get to the potty. Just the other day LX-5077 jammed the clasp on his belt and near shat himself before an engineer could come fix it.

You’d also assume that on this freaking giant Starkiller Base there’d be plenty of places to relieve yourself. Well, you’d be wrong.

Fifty-thousand laser guns, eight-thousand TIE fighters, a hundred-thousand Stormtroopers, even a giant thermal oscillator and I have to walk for up to fifteen minutes just to find a fucking bathroom. Honestly, it’s no wonder FN-2187 betrayed us. I bet the Millennium Falcon at least has a decent place to take a piss.

So you’re probably thinking: if peeing is so hard then how do Stormtroopers masturbate?

Well, I tell you it’s no easy feat. Group showers with other Stormtroopers make jerking off almost impossible. Once I tried carefully removing my pelvic armour in bed to get the deed done.

The clinking and clanking of the rest of my suit nearly woke up half the dorm. You may have felt sorry for Vader, needing his helmet to breathe and all, but at least he was entitled to some goddamn privacy!

You’d think that the worst part about being a Stormtrooper is being brainwashed into obedience and conformity. Or maybe you’d think that it’s being stolen from our families at birth, or being forced into dangerous and life threatening battles. I promise you that none of these are the worst part of being a Stormtrooper.

The worst part about being a Stormtrooper is needing to pee.

Going toe-to-toe with Luke-fucking-Skywalker would probably be easier.

40 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

ARTWORK BY ELLA SHI

COMMENTARY

The Oscars: Takin’ it back to ’77 Diversity problems! UniMelb dropout Cate Blanchett! A septuagenarian Aussie up for best director!

No Meryl Streep! Andy Hazel calls the 2015 Oscar race.

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month ago, the 2015 Oscars promised to be the year a group of rich, overwhelmingly Caucasian men with the average age of 62 embraced the ‘real’ world. Surely, awards-friendly fare such as Carol, The Danish Girl and the surreptitious feminist tales of Mad Max: Fury Road and Star Wars: The Force Awakens would see 2015 looked back upon as the year Hollywood finally overcame its Caucasian, male heteronormative bias.

But no. The Academy’s long-documented problem with gender and race has continued into 2016. Last year’s #Oscarssowhite meme has been getting a solid workout since the 20 acting nominees were announced, barely a freckle of melatonin amongst them.

The 94 per cent white, 76 per cent male Academy voters are naturally drawn to films that feature smart white people doing smart white people things like Cold War diplomacy (Bridge of Spies), North American colonisation (The Revenant) or Wall St financial dealings (The Big Short) over a game-changing dramedy about multiracial transgender sex workers like Tangerine.

Academy president Cheryl Boon-Isaacs’ radical overhaul of membership and voting rules has alienated many in the Academy, outlining a four-year plan to double female and minority membership while limiting membership terms to 10year stints. Her response sets the scene for an unmissable Chris Rock-hosted ceremony.

Look over the nominees and one thing becomes clear: 2015 is looking more and more like 1977 – the year a dialogue-heavy thriller about plucky investigative journalists was a Best Picture favourite (All the President’s Men/Spotlight), a savage exposé of a national institution enraged and entertained (Network/The Big Short), Sylvester Stallone was nominated for playing Rocky Balboa (Rocky/Creed), a franchise-booting Star Wars film set box office records and Hollywood made a well-overdue leap by nominating a woman for Best Director.

In 2015, women took on urban gun violence (Chi-Raq), attacked a futuristic totalitarian state (Mad Max: Fury Road), shared illicit love (Carol), won the vote (Suffragette) and saved the galaxy (Star Wars: The Force Awakens). Merchandisers may be taking longer to catch on but females are leaping to the top of the marquee and into the heart of the blockbuster.

Despite this, leading the pack with twelve nominations is The Revenant, in which Leonardo DiCaprio fights a bear, sleeps inside a horse carcass and doesn’t even care that he has frozen snot in his beard. It’s the sort of overtly masculine, Man vs. Wild performance that the Academy’s ‘steak-eaters’ can easily deem worthy. It’s also one of the biggest ripostes to anyone who hoped 2015 might be the year the feminine triumphed. Instead, The Revenant sees its only two female characters raped and murdered.

A notable omission from the Best Picture nominees is Carol – a finely wrought tale of repressed love which won widespread acclaim. Similarly, The Danish Girl earned praise for its acting but was savaged by many LGBTQI+ viewers for its superficial take on womanhood and unwillingness to cast a transgender actor in Eddie Redmayne’s role – the recipient of one of the first ever surgical procedures for gender reassignment.

Other surprises (no Best Director for The Martian’s Ridley Scott or Carol’s Todd Haynes?) were the nods for Room and Ex Machina. The former is a gut-wrenching story about a

ARTWORK BY Tiffany Y Goh

mother introducing her five-year-old son to the world after years of imprisonment in an urban bunker, the latter a tale of a Zuckerberg-like tycoon developing the world’s first Turing Testacing AI. Room’s Brie Larsen is the favourite to beat University of Melbourne dropout Blanchett to Best Actress and the staggeringly endearing nine-year-old Jacob Tremblay was unlucky not to score a supporting actor nomination. Ex Machina is unlikely to win for its nominations in visual effects and original screenplay, but its appearance is a boon to the low budget indie and marks director Alex Garland’s next film, 2017’s femme-centric sci-fi Annihilation, as one to watch.

The year’s biggest surprise, however, has come in the form of a $150 million blockbuster sequel to a 1985 film chiefly known for its haircuts. Mad Max may have started in a University of Melbourne car park, but it could reach its zenith with director George Miller (also the creator of Happy Feet and Babe) tipped to accept a ‘lifetime achievement award’ in the form of a Best Director Oscar.

Speaking of animated classics, it would be a huge upset were Inside Out not to win Best Animated Feature, though Charlie Kaufman’s R-rated stop-motion animation Anomalisa is one worth investigating.

Hidden way down the bottom of the nominees is Don Hertzfeldt’s animated short film, World of Tomorrow, a 16-minute lifeaffirming gem. If you’re ever feeling abandoned or at a loss, time spent in Hertzfeldt’s world is a poignant reminder of the power of cinema and the transformative vision of a human being.

The Academy’s changes are a necessary corrective to enable Hollywood to continue to sell the idea that it reflects the dreams of an increasingly diverse America. Next year’s Oscars could well feature the slave-revolt drama The Birth of a Nation, which recently became the biggest ever sale of a film from the Sundance Film Festival, where many Oscar winners have first screened. 2015 may not be ‘the year everything changed’, but it could come to be seen as the year ‘everything began to change’.

Farrago Predicts Best Picture: The Revenant Best Director: George Miller, Mad Max: Fury Road Best Actor: Leonardo DiCaprio, The Revenant Best Actress: Brie Larsen, Room Best Supporting Actor: Mark Ruffalo, Spotlight Best Supporting Actress: Rooney Mara, Carol Best Animated Feature Film: Inside Out Best Foreign Language Film: Son of Saul (Hungary) Best Documentary: Amy Best Cinematography: The Revenant, Emmanuel Lubezki Best Costume Design: Jenny Beavan, Mad Max: Fury Road Best Makeup and Hair: Mad Max: Fury Road Best Production Design: The Revenant Best Editing: Hank Corwin, The Big Short Best Adapted Screenplay: Phyllis Nagy, Carol Best Original Screenplay: Josh Singer & Tom McCarthy, Spotlight Best Score: Ennio Morricone, The Hateful Eight Best Song: ‘Earned It’ by The Weeknd, Fifty Shades of Grey

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 41

COLUMN

LOTTE WARD PRESENTS

ONE OF US: CULT REVIEWS DONNIE DARKO AND THE APPEAL OF GENRE TRANSCENDENCE

H

ere’s the thing: teen angst sells. Even accounting for the ageing West, 35 per cent of the world’s population is under 20 – and at least 99 per cent of them are angsty1. Teens are, or certainly have been in decades past (prior to the rise of Netflix and Co.), the main class of cinemagoers. So: take a healthy helping of teen angst, add just enough science fiction to appeal to the nerdgeist, then smother the whole thing in grit and darkness, and what have you got? The perfect recipe for a cult hit.

The feature debut of writer-director Richard Kelly, Donnie Darko bombed once in 2001 and again at the theatrical release of its (albeit better lauded) director’s cut in 2004. However, when – as these things go – its DVD release began to rally a following, the film hit a turning point: it scored the midnight slot. New York’s Pioneer Theatre started Donnie Darko midnight screenings, and that was it. The film’s cult status had been affirmed.

Peer back through decades of yore and you’ll see that the cult classic and the midnight screening go – quite romantically – hand in hand. Rocky Horror found its devotees in Greenwich Village at midnight. So – in other theatres, in other cities, but always at 12am – did Eraserhead, Night of the Living Dead and countless B movies. Now, in what is often deemed the age of nostalgia, the midnight movie has evolved, reviving previously mainstream films and awarding them fresh cult status. At the forefront of this group is just about any title preceding the words dir. John Hughes. (I digress.)

Donnie Darko follows its eponymous character (a thenunknown Jake Gyllenhaal), a deeply troubled boy who has more reason than most teenagers to believe himself the centre of the universe. As it happens, Donnie’s actions determine whether or not the fabric of reality collapses in on itself (it’s a whole thing).

Despite its nerdcore appeal, the overarching time travel plot – complete with terrifying six-foot bunny guide – is perhaps the least interesting part of Kelly’s film.

Instead, what Donnie Darko primarily offered midnight viewers and their more introverted DVD-purchasing counterparts was a macabre glimpse at a richly inhabited universe. In a thirty second, one-shot, dialogue-free high school montage, Kelly manages to tell us more about several characters than some films allow in an hour. And although for most of the film Donnie is ironic and sarcastic2, creeping moments of genuine vulnerability — the regret on his face after calling his mother a “bitch”; his heartbreaking response of, “Ooh, I have those too!” when Gretchen (Jena Malone) mentions her father’s ‘emotional problems’, and of “I’m sorry,” to “You’re weird” — give the film emotional credibility beyond its dark premise.

Cross-universal wormholes aside, Donnie’s struggle to interact normally and connect with his family and innocent, doomed Gretchen speak more to the existential and the Absurd than to simple teen angst. Teenagers live in an almost constant state of

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flux; to be between the ages of thirteen and twenty is to be ‘finding oneself’. Darko takes this option away from its protagonist, and asks, instead: who am I, if the world ends right now?

What are my choices?

One could call Donnie Darko a horror film, and shelving habits of DVD stores, when they still existed, might have given that categorisation credence. However, few pure horror films have room for the intricacies of character and interpersonal relationships that are somehow as potently felt through Darko’s two and a bit hours as its menacing countdown, “Twenty-eight days, six hours, forty-two minutes, twelve seconds”. Where in horror tropes do we find poor Cherita “Chut up” Chen, earmuffed and teased and enamoured of Donnie, whose total of maybe five minutes’ screen time provide some of the film’s most profound insights into Donnie, the sulphuric pits of hell that are high school and into the world? (You’ll forgive me this overindulgence of phrasing; melancholic ‘Mad World’ is still muffled in my ears.) What about liberal English teacher Ms. Pomeroy (Drew Barrymore), a frustratingly liminal character, young enough to understand Donnie and Co. but too young and powerless to intervene? Similarly powerless, the audience can only absorb the cathartic “FUCK” she hurls into the sky, and watch as she and her science teacher boyfriend try desperately, and fail, to help the ghosts of children in front of them, “Crystallised in the pain of puberty”. Darko is a supernatural film of which the primary attribute is a very human dedication to character, not any tricks of the mind or the eye.

With the perfect soundtrack to the gloomy early-noughties teen life (remember, in the noughties, when you woke up in your pyjamas on a mountain and biked home to your worryingly nonchalant family with ‘The Killing Moon’ ringing in your ears?

No? True nineties kids do) and some excellent snippets of faithful teen dialogue – “please tell me, Elizabeth, how exactly does one suck a fuck?” – it doesn’t do well to dwell on what kind of film Donnie Darko is while you’re watching it. The atmosphere is too wholly mesmeric.

Donnie Darko is not a horror film; it is not sci-fi, nor a romance or a comedy. It manages, however, to weave elements of these genres gracefully, if not seamlessly, through its two-and-a-half hours. It might be this refusal to adhere to convention that makes it difficult to exorcise the film from your psyche for weeks after viewing; it might be the brain-aching physics content. For whatever reason, it’s exactly this longevity that affords Donnie Darko its continuing claim to the Cult.

A true fact.

The Teen AngstTM wet dream.

1

2

ARTWORK BY Aisha Trambas

COMMENTARY

reviewing The Revenant

All breaths are one

BY ALESSANDRA PRUNOTTO

T

he wind, swelling and receding in the darkness, is the first sound of Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s The Revenant. At first, its hollow murmur seems to have little significance. But as we travel through the fierce landscapes of 1820s Montana alongside fur trapper Hugh Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio), we realise that the wind is integral to one of the film’s central metaphors.

“The wind cannot defeat a tree with strong roots. If you look at its branches, you swear it will fall. But if you watch the trunk, you see its stability.”

This allegory, murmured in the Pawnee language by Glass’ dead wife (Grace Dove), haunts his dreams. Iñárritu visualises the metaphor with recurring low angle shots of trees that shudder in the wind during moments of rising tension. Where the wind evokes adversity and the flailing branches represent suffering, the trunk embodies fortitude and the strong roots draw up determination to fight for survival.

The roots of Glass’ own being similarly draw strength from his relationship with Hawk (Forrest Goodluck), his half-Pawnee son whom he protects by any means. Solidarity is paramount in this dangerous land, where the pair’s ambiguous ethnic affiliations render them semi-outcasts. After a confrontation with fellow trapper Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), Glass reminds a distressed Hawk, “You are my son”. A simple affirmation of kinship is the taciturn Glass’ way of expressing his deepest affection.

Indeed, the dialogue is as minimalist as the soundtrack, evoking the untamed landscape across which human societies are still scattered. Instead, breathing becomes both a communicative tool and a second survival motif that counterpoints the wind metaphor. Glass believes that, “as long as you grab a breath, you fight”, and he lives it too, weathering strangulation by an Arikara, a bear slashing his windpipe, Fitzgerald’s attempt to smother him and a journey down a succession of waterfalls.

The breathing motif is emphasised at the film’s most gutwrenching moment, when Fitzgerald knifes Hawk and flees with the ingenuous Jim Bridger (Will Poulter), leaving a crippled Glass half-buried. Wheezing, Glass claws out of his shallow grave in search of his son. Dragging himself laboriously across the snow, he notices a spot of red and his breath catches. He follows the trail of blood, crawling towards Hawk’s rigid body. He lays his head on his son’s still chest, and all is silent but for Glass’ griefstricken, faltering breaths. The camera intrudes so deeply into this moment that Glass’ exhale mists the lens. With the slow rhythm of Glass’ lonely breaths in the background, the camera pans up and around; the scene changes before we realise, in the characteristic style of cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki. Glass’ breaths are seamlessly joined into those of Fitzgerald, who is smoking a pipe on a rise, his breath tainted by his reprehensible actions.

ARTWORK BY CAROLYN HUANE

“That boy was all I had,” Glass says, “and he took him from me.”

The blow is as powerful as a raging blizzard, but Glass’ roots are so strong that they continue to clutch where there is only a memory.

His love for Hawk is intensified by his hatred for Fitzgerald. These powerful emotions raise him from his grave in a manner booming with Christian symbolism, which certainly cannot go undetected after Captain Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) exclaims, “Jesus Christ!” upon his discovery. But this revenant returns with destruction in mind, not forgiveness. Hikuc (Arthur Redcloud), the lone Pawnee who renounces retribution against his persecutors, examines Glass’ wounds and concludes, “Your body is rotten”. Likewise, Glass’ spirit festers with a desire for vengeance. Though Glass’ narrative reflects the archetypal Christian story of resurrection, Iñárritu displays it in a warped mirror. The audience must look elsewhere for true renewal.

Signs of transferred life pervade the film, from the moss that Glass places in his dead son’s mouth to the sparrow that escapes his wife’s bullet wound. Foremost among these are the bison that are so culturally important to the Plains Indians. The mounds of bison skulls that punctuate Glass’ dream sequences recall the government’s drive to repress the Native Americans by destroying their livelihoods. But through Glass’ perspective, we are shown symbolic proof of revivification. He scales a river bank to a crescendo of drumming hooves and, at the sight of an immense herd of bison, falls to his knees.

On a cosmic scale, survival can be deferred. But on a human scale it cannot. This fact makes Fitzgerald’s final stab cut all the more deeply: “You came all this way for your revenge, Glass… but ain’t nothing gonna bring your boy back.” Despite his rage, Glass restrains himself from delivering the fatal blow. Hikuc’s faith has sparked in him a half-formed memory of an abandoned Creator, whose churches crumble in his dreams. But as the truth of Fitzgerald’s words sink in, Glass appears truly cold for the first time in the film. The grief of losing his wife and son to senseless violence engulfs the glimmer of faith. The apparition of Glass’ wife gazes at him tenderly before turning away, and he shivers with the finality of the separation from his kin. Yet his breaths continue into the credits, suggesting that he will cling to life enough to grow new roots.

By book-ending the film with wind and breath in darkness, Iñárritu draws parallels between the two. He does not resolve the tension between these symbols of destruction and life; the two are caught up in each other as part of natural cycles of renewal.

Despite its intense human tragedy, in the world of The Revenant, life is transposed. The bison downed by a pack of wolves lives in those that escape. The flaming tree that falls lives in the forest that stands.

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CREATIVE

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CREATIVE

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CREATIVE

FOR A TRANSCRIPT OF THE ACTUAL INTERVEW VISIT FARRAGOMAGAZINE.COM

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 47

COMMENTARY

JENNY ONDIOLINE CHARLIE LEMPRIERE LOCKS INTO THE GROOVE OF ‘E’

I

t occasionally bothers me that on first listen I wasn’t crushed

by Stereolab into the deepest depths of musical infatuation.

This encounter was footage of them playing ‘French Disko’ on The Word, a stylistically confused British TV show on Channel 4 in the mid-1990s. The audience were freaking out in rave gear; they must have been paid to be there. I can imagine instead a sea of swaying hips at the Hullabalooza festival, nonchalant kids with sweaters tied around their waists. Stereolab paints a picture of post-modern slacker heaven, severe-faced and glued to their instruments, their performance bizarre against the enthusiastic television studio audience.

Despite being weirded out that initial time, I return to the video often, with positive vibrations rushing through my soul; Stereolab have become the most important band I know. ‘French Disko’ appears as a B-side on the Jenny Ondioline EP from 1993 and the title track from that release is untethered sonic glory.

But it is the album version of ‘Jenny Ondioline’ on Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements that is the true epic voyage, the defining song of the band’s early minimalistic and progressive style. Spanning 18 minutes, it takes heavy cues from the krautrock sound of 1970s West Germany, sucked through a vacuum of obscure intellectualism borne from the 20th Century.

Lead-singer Lætitia Sadier often interprets Marxist theory in her lyrics (from ‘Jenny Ondioline’: “The unbeatable system engenders rot / that’s what is exciting / the challenge as the new nation”), herself being a neo-Situationist uncannily born in France in May 1968. It’s never dogmatic though and her concoction of French and English words, usually sung in a low monotone register, act harmoniously as an unplugged instrument.

Part One of ‘Jenny Ondioline’ extends the EP version and marks it at both ends with an expansive gust of distortion from Tim Gane’s guitar. This is a repetitive song. It barely strays from E for over seven minutes, only interrupted by short harmonic pseudochoruses. While ‘Jenny Ondioline’ doesn’t have a club drop, there is a high level of anticipation created by those choruses, a powerful desire to return to that initial chord, chugging along.

When the tune strays from the riff, you are reminded how

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intensely you were locked into the groove, digging every bar as though it was the first hit. It’s odd that some songs that last only two minutes become boring soon after beginning. Yet, in the krautrock tradition, cruising on three chords or less can remain engaging ad infinitum.

The Ondioline was an analogue keyboard created by Georges Jenny in 1941, and has been used on many seminal electronic albums, including Jenny’s contemporaries Perrey-Kingsley on their playful The In Sound from Way Out! (1966). That album’s title was later adapted by fellow counter-culture icons, Beastie Boys, a few years after Transient Random Noise. Part Two emerges from the dust with a slightly altered tune and slowed down tempo. The Ondioline returns too, vibrating incessantly over the motorik beat, a drumming technique pioneered in the krautrock era. There is a strong resemblance in Part Two to the legendary ‘Hallogallo’ by Dusseldorf group, Neu!, with added vocals and random noise bursts. Stereolab member and Queenslander, Mary Hansen often interplays vocals with Sadier, adding punch to a repetitive refrain in Part Two, before both drop out entirely. An announcement shuts down the music at 14 minutes with an instructional voice that I hope is Delia Derbyshire, saying, “The following sequence is recorded equally on both channels / but is out of phase”. Then the band launches into a sonic freak-out, more a reflection of their punk influence than any German nod. This is the transience, spewing out reality’s madness into a brief mess of noise, before pegging back to the safety of a 4/4 rhythm, all the way home.

There is chunkiness to ‘Jenny Ondioline’. Splitting apart the tune’s repetition, minute performances trickle and develop, shifting just enough without actually tampering with the beauty of its simplicity. Searching for different instruments in the thick of the forward movement is a meditative practise and I can never fully grasp all of them at once. This elusiveness in the wall of sound is addictive. When it’s finished I long to return to the E chord.

Dedicated to Mary Hansen

PHOTOGRAPHY BY Tzeyi Koay

COLUMN

GABRIEL FILIPPA PRESENTS

BUTTON MASHING IN TOKYO

BUTTON MASHING IS A COLUMN ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS, VIDEO GAMES AND GROWING UP IN A DIGITAL WORLD

T

his place smells like cigarettes. Like plum wine and Nintendo 64 cartridges. It’s dark. Musty. A few Game Boy screens emit little pockets of white light. Next to me, someone picks at chicken popcorn.

I look up.

Video game controllers dangle from the wall as if venerated in a trophy room. Buttons, joysticks and cables from the Sega Mega Drive, Atari 2600 and Dreamcast all hang relieved from duty.

Then there are these strange objects. These deformed figures that look like they’re the result of technological inbreeding.

There’s a purple claw with a bloodshot eye replacing the start button. A Mario figurine with a bloated waistline for keeping memory sticks. Inexplicable blue discharge that I’m told is Sonic the Hedgehog.

I’m at a gaming bar in Akihabara, a district of Tokyo known for its neon lights that flicker and burn in perpetuity. Japan may be the land of the rising sun but Akihabara is indifferent. It’s in these streets that the separation between sunlight and streetlight; natural and artificial; man and machine becomes confusing.

Battery-powered cats evade storeowners. A mechanical cyclist rides along the roof of a convenience store. Elevators and escalators engage in unsettling discourse. A robot raves outside a pharmacy. Schoolgirls beckon you into cafes wearing panda paws.

Vending machines blink at you from every street corner.

I buy myself a hot coffee and a few sticky drinks and crash down the streets like I’ve just been inserted into a pinball machine. Long legs, candy, sex; advertising, breasts, businessmen; lights, eyeballs, paranoia.

I stagger into a sex shop feeling nauseous and aroused. I’m not sure if I’m going to vomit or ejaculate. I just stand there helpless and immobile staring at a dildo labelled ‘Man O’ War Solid Dong’ and listening to Michael Jackson’s ‘Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough’ while men and women moan from TV screens.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY Emma Jensen

Respite finally comes in a place called Super Potato – a retro gaming bar. I start playing the 1987 beat ‘em up classic Double Dragon with a packet of Lucky Strikes and a bottle of coke.

I’m smiling, nodding, smoking and drinking the bottle of coke beneath an artificial canopy thinking this is it. The gaming Mecca I flew 5,000 miles to experience.

Storyline: Some thugs beat up my girl and sling her over their shoulders.

My mission: Get her back.

Tools: Crowbar.

I nailed Double Dragon on the Game Boy as a kid. Most of the time I was in the backseat of Dad’s Ford Fairlane. There was no backlight on the original Game Boy so when the sun went down I had to use passing streetlights on the highway for support.

Those slithers of light moving through the car were enough for me to beat up gangsters all the way up and down the east coast of Australia.

Now I’m swaggering along the same virtual streets as a 26-yearold thinking I can smoke a cigarette in one hand and rescue my honey with the other.

Nope.

Some dude in leather with huge thighs and a black whip is forcing me to insert more coins to continue.

I open my wallet and take a look around.

There’s a young Japanese kid entering a dome to become a mech warrior. There’s a group of girls laughing as they change their avatar’s outfit. There’s a wide-eyed teen connecting neon lights on a screen. There’s a schoolboy leaning over a claw machine to calculate how to win a prize for his girlfriend. Then there’s an old man who has brought in a faded blanket to bet on digital greyhounds.

I turn back to Double Dragon.

I’m wearing a cut-off denim shirt and sunglasses. My curly blonde hair sits neatly on my 12-bit shoulders. I pick up the crowbar and once again punch, kick, knee and head-butt my way through a hoard of delinquents beneath a great blue pixelated sky where the sun never bothers to rise nor set.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 49

CREATIVE

FRUITING BODIES AMIE GREEN GOES MUSHROOM FORAGING, FINDS HERSELF

M

y sister advises me that nobody should go picking without a guide. At first you need somebody who knows the specific musty smell, bruising spongy texture, dark ruffled veils and small conical caps of the mushrooms. The most experienced foragers know their local seasons. As the autumn rains arrive, they return to the same patches that have been faithfully fruitful. The peak of the picking season is usually in June, providing that the previous May has soaked the ground and temperatures have been consistently below 20 degrees.

The sun barely breaches through the winter fog, puddling lazily at the horizon. It is early morning and 10 degrees out when my sister and I pack my little old car. The usual winter attire is appropriate – a parka with decent pockets, scarves and runners with a good sole and grip. Although a dark monochrome clothing scheme is preferable, at this time all but the elusive 5am Monday jogger are surely burrowed in their beds, as my bleary eyed sister usually would be. We don’t need maps as we take the narrow, winding (mostly dirt) roads south-west and trace the curve of the peninsula.

Long since removed from the town we grew up by, nestled between unkempt dry bush and eucalypt woodlands, mushroom gathering for me is a return. A homecoming to that smell that you only get after a big rain, to substrate that squelches underfoot and cakes at the bottom of your shoe, to that childlike freedom of being a new explorer, invigorated with a confident curiosity. I’m captured by the mandala patterns imprinted beneath mushrooms – their spiralling gills, scalloped edges and frilly veils. However, my sister’s motivation is nobler. She partakes in a cyclic tradition shared with her years ago through a friend and her mother, who took her on her first trip.

We find the area fenced off and access restricted to two small locked gates. But as we track the large roads circling the bushland we see several holes ripped into the wire. The signage is clear: loitering and suspicious behaviour is reportable.

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These days, as my sister has discovered, with her fair share of daytime run-ins with other enthusiasts, mushroom picking has become incredibly competitive. Trusted circles have grown into communities as word of mouth shifts into popular public forums and social networking pages. Co-ordinates posted on these sites attract slews of newcomers, who disrupt previously respected local habitats. Some locations are fully raided by early winter, the loam disturbed, the red bark dug up and the complex root system of the fungi, the mycelium, exposed and damaged. Bodies are pulled when still small, damaging the structures underneath, allowing the underground stalks to rot and preventing bigger and healthier caps from reaching maturity. It’s important to be gentle by harvesting mature mushrooms with tall stalks and descended veils with a pair of scissors. Being careful when adventuring off

footpaths and into beds is also a stressed factor of ethical picking and preserving the bushland we pass through. However, once spring arrives, the only concern for many is to harvest as much as possible, as mushroom picking gains popularity for both culinary and recreational purposes. As the availability decreases, the demand and prices for dried mushrooms are driven up.

A long road divides the land. On one side a difficult walking trail has been cut through the dense foliage, and on the other is a round grassy clearing with a dilapidated wooden playground at the front. Behind the area an old wire-bottomed bridge tops a stagnant algae-carpeted creek, which runs parallel to the thicket.

Beyond that is more bushland. In the clearing I search for the old tree stump where years ago we found a small plastic container jammed within a knothole. Inside there were assorted miniatures and trinkets and a signed notebook from other visitors. We added our names, and I added a small green-handled crosshead screwdriver and a ridged yellow game token that I had pocketed while on the walking track.

CREATIVE

For a landscape that once seemed empty, there sure is a lot of litter and various bits of crap – I unearth an entire soggy sock and a bucket handle from inside a rotting log. On the surface there are touches of the people that were here before us – a set of boot imprints smudged across the mud, threatening graffiti and strips of hazard tape strewn about. Now in the tree stump’s place I find chunky fragments of obliterated wood.

Australia’s fungi populations are incredibly diverse. As well as their culinary benefits they also are utilised as dyes, medicinal ingredients and in paper manufacturing. Observation is the key skill in mushroom foraging as many edible mushrooms have poisonous doppelgangers. Psilocybin mushrooms can at first look similar to Galerina mushrooms, the former being hallucinogenic fungi and the latter deadly poisonous. Upon closer inspection, minor differences such as gill shapes, bruising and the colour of the spore print can confirm the identity of a mushroom species.

Spore prints, the powder ring left behind when a mushroom cap is left on top of a piece of white or black paper, can show distinct gill patterns and the colours of the spores. For instance, death caps have white or pale yellow prints, most magic mushrooms have blue prints and common field mushrooms have brown prints.

Once, I unintentionally sowed spores in the room under my house while feeding my fascination for fungi through growing

Prosecuting foragers of magic and culinary fungi seems nearly impossible, especially in small-scale recreational pickings. So each year as mushroom season transpires, news programs are flooded with stories and warnings of mushroom poisonings to discourage foraging in public and private gardens. In April 2015, Julia Medew penned an article for the Sydney Morning Herald titled ‘Poison Mushroom Warning For Victoria’, which featured a long and graphic list of the dangers of picking and eating wild mushrooms, including death within hours of consumption. Effects of mushroom poisoning also include gastrointestinal distress, liver failure and hallucinations. However, according to the Victorian Government’s own Better Health Channel, statistically speaking, mushroom poisonings are extremely rare and occur mostly in children who eat mushrooms from their home gardens.

On our trip, my sister and I see many different species of fungi.

Death caps are ever-present with their pale yellow pinnacles, as are tons of unidentifiable little brown mushrooms. I snap pictures of some corky orange Pycnoporus, the wood-digesting shelf fungi, and some spectacular shaggy mane mushrooms, whose fish-tasting, flaky flesh is stained with blue ink. The rule of thumb is to not pick anything, especially if you are not with somebody experienced. Even though some people do eat poisonous mushrooms by parboiling them to specific temperatures, mushroom foraging is definitely not something that should be taken lightly.

Public space, with the flora and established habitats therein, is a landscape where different activities, ideas and traditions are negotiated. Despite authorities’ official health warnings against foraging and repeating its dangers, people are still coming back to their favourite spots and continuing to use public parkland as a source of rebellion and adventure, whimsical sustenance, harvest and bounty. As we prepare to leave the park, we spot, in the bed across from us, a group of three figures on their knees sifting through the red bark. Both parties stand up. It is two younger men, accompanied by an older balding man. We wave and continue on our separate paths.

mushrooms in straw-stuffed boxes and washing baskets. Some species spawn a cloud of spores when they reach maturity, spores that, I discovered, can discolour surfaces. Now I line the brick walls beneath my house in newspaper and reserve my spore prints to a collection of folios.

One of my Nan’s stories – something she recounts at family gatherings – is about how closed off an inaccessible public space has become. When she was a child, her family travelled parallel to the Nepean Highway, picking buckets of massive brown field mushrooms from the paddocks. However, that was private property. When it’s public land, what stops the community from transgressing these spaces and abusing the landscape?

ARTWORK BY AGNES Whalan

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CREATIVE

TRY A LITTLE TINDERNESS

By Iryna Byelyayeva

she’s smiley and polite what a pretty, small delight! and she’ll laugh at all your jokes even though you’ll forget she ever spoke but don’t assume she’s weak uneasy silly dumb or meek she’ll go home and all those feelings she won’t be able to postpone will find their way into her little black book a nook for all her rhymes and riddles which she sends out like irretraceable ripples into a world where old women knit a grand tapestry to reveal that, really, you ain’t shit. it’s not that she lied to you everything she said was true – that you are an artist and worth the effort but so is she, and she is not for your comfort. maybe you, in your Ray-Bans and poetic, black coat who thinks he can float without ever falling down needs to briefly feel like a clown to give your dreams reality to show you the ugly truth behind creativity. one photo says it all, so swipe that finger, I promise you two will have a ball.

ARTWORK BY REIMENA YEE

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 53

CREATIVE

OVER WHERE THE RAGGED PEOPLE GO

BY ROSE KENNEDY

Over where the ragged people go is a field of frost cackling underfoot grass that bends and snaps at the ends Over where the ragged people go seas rage, boiling feathers and fins sleek bodies and wings Over where the ragged people go I see just the tip of your ear poking out from beneath spreading rubble catching like shadows on the footpath

Over where the ragged people go you see me an outline with no body framed by the wind.

Over where the ragged people go under clouds upon clouds peeling snow

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ARTWORK BY James Callaghan

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ARTWORK BY lynley eavis

CREATIVE

OPULENT CRAVINGS

BY ALEXANDER BAKY TRAN

On empty stomachs we stroll through streets With desire to be sat down At tables with sparkling water and menus bathed in genuine leather Desire to be greeted as Sir and Ma’am Unlike the he and she in allusions of contempt Or accusation The waiters are paid to be patient But they aren’t always and reasonably So we scroll through menus, with anxious fingers Bare, ashamed, and stripped of diamond rings The waitress hums a song, and we assume it’s about us Tempted by dishes with fancier names But the vulgar flavor of affectation We’ve bad taste anyway Select from the cardboard a dish to impress the chef Wait for the hefty garnish, and the sourdough on which they lay Their perfectly poached eggs Mastered by sixty-three degrees For our liking It does not concern the chef as much as it concerns No one in actuality Serves the kingfish as they do so disgracefully The pink flesh we mistook for radish but whose smell betrayed The notorious Seafood fragrance Squirt a squid’s ink on some pasta and call it class Scoop some caviar and say et cetera We’re more concerned about the nicknames the waiters bless us with Behind our backs We can hear them snickering Our nerves are boiling and our faces a red radius of beaming Embarrassment It ruins the appetite To starve in loops of repetition So home is on the agenda again To serve something fishy regardless

ARTWORK BY James Callaghan

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CREATIVE

Aisle of Consciousness

BY Candy James-Zoccoli

I

I

I

realise, as the post-transaction compliments of a Mediterranean customer linger in the cool, cologne-spiked air, that this place is probably my major social outlet and prime source of esteem building, and this epiphany leaves me feeling stale, like the top slice of bread that doesn’t get picked until that public holiday when you forgot to get groceries and you’re strapped for options, even then furtively glancing over at the pantry for alternatives. I wonder if they notice that my lips disappear when I smile or that my right ear produces starkly more wax than its counterpart?

Whenever I think about a member of the opposite gender I end up with head-cold symptoms. The more water I drink the worse my headaches get. Swig. Throbbing left temple. Sip. Throat throwback. Gargle. Hand sanitation. Rub.

III

pass each of my co-workers in turn on my way to the tea room, each stair a different face to say hello or goodbye to – are you just starting now oh you’re finishing how long were you on for?

And then we whinge or joke or simply ponder our respective lots, and how we got stuck with the four or seven hour shift, and which is worse, and who on the floor is going to make it go quicker or drudge along even more dismally, and we’ve almost completely passed each other now, sometimes daring to break stride completely in order to properly regale one another with tales about that regular bitch with her regular scowl, or the regular guy with his regular OCD, and – in leering higher-pitched drawls of mutinous mimicry – would you swap my ten dollar note for some gold coins please, and – discernibly deeper now – what do we look like, a bank to you? And no, you can’t have more than two baby formulas, you can’t have more than four cigarette cartons, there’s a cap on your consumerism, but it’s alright, we’re here to direct you to that well-placed rack of uncapped glutinous desserts. You can’t separate your transactions for the fuel voucher, no, look behind you mate, there’s a line all the way past the fresh produce and deli sections, snaking around beyond the curries and Hello Panda chocolate dipsticks. If you look properly you’ll see it ends right over there, by the clearance novelty instant custard flavours.

II

W

hat if I end up like that guy who comes into the store every so often – the one with the silver comb-over and perpetual scowl – who was on a career roll for a few decades until somehow, somewhere, something in his brain detonated, leaving the innards of his skull a hardened, fatty mush? He spends his life in the same shirt and suspended trousers, both black and scattered with dandruff remnants, and his shoes are mouldy and maybe a size too big, and every person he passes wrinkles their nose in disgust, and if they’re travelling in multiples they whisper to each other – get a load of that BO. Some even have stories to tell, like that one Sunday in church when he made derogatory comments about the female altar servers, or that conversation they were forced to sit through outside the local Bottle-o, with four dollar Moscato dribbling down his chin and their final ruling whispered – this guy is a fucking racist – but at least he’s entertaining, right?

58 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

I

IV

watched a David Foster Wallace speech recently, in which he used supermarkets as an example of choosing to understand your fellow man, and it seems uncanny to not even consider it now, when that chronically phlegm-ridden man throws the receipt for his $54.30 transaction back, or when the woman in black who got done last week for trying to flow through the double-entried self-serve without paying for two-thirds of her triple-digit trolley tells the new guy that Peter Stuyversant Classics can’t be $19.50, and I tell her with feigned distaste for the system that the prices are always changing, that she should see those smoke jukeboxes at bars, Winfield’s like thirty bucks – oh really in monotone, really in mock monotone, here’s your change, enjoy the rest of your – she’s gone. Or the tradie who tells his friend and the rest of the store that if the self-serve machine doesn’t offer cash out after he’s put through a 99c Turkish Delight he’s going to lose [his] shit, [his] fucking shit, he swears, and as they walk out afterwards they turn around to see who’s still watching, to make sure they caused a stir in the humdrum, because when you don’t really like your career, making it your job to disturb the peace in the carefully rostered lives of others seems like the most satisfying solution.

CREATIVE

T

V

hey all want to know when I get off, whether I can get them Rothman’s Gold in the 40s, not the 25s, sorry for the confusion, have a lovely night won’t you, they wink or grunt with chins depressed deep into their necks. My job title retains its ever-evolving appendage – Check Out Chick or, Masturbatory Maid for the Middle-Aged Man and his Mental Misfortunes. The role now officially includes the humouring of ringless forty-nineyear-olds with their untraceable accents and differing strains of dry humour as I swing my mane around, bending over to find them their smokes or retrieve their dropped coinage, and in those four minutes we have together I look past their crow’s feet, their hereditary hair troubles, their downturned lips now set in place – so that’s why they tell me to smile – and I see the young men, I see the vigour and the vitality, the hope for the return of a misplaced life, unexpectedly dashed or faded over time, and I think of the resigned woman on self-serve who lamented her forty-year-old son’s reluctance to leave home and find someone, because all his friends were getting divorced – she’d said it like they were all married to each other – and I remember that shift ending on a solemn note, one in which I ascended each stair with just a little more rust and squeak than I’m used to, and I was reminded of the very plausible possibility that, just maybe, they stare and cajole and snap and flirt and optically invade my space because they’re looking for something they either lost or never had to begin with, and for those brief few moments at the end of the day I let them forget, or force them to look more closely inward, and maybe they’re not sure which is worse, but at the very least they feel something by the time the PayWave finally goes through. So I’ll continue to smile and do my duties, because I always wanted to make a change, and if they can go home to their TV dinners and ramshackle weatherboard homes with some semblance of interest for the rest of the night then I understand why altruism gets such a good rap.

T

VI

he light at the end of the tunnel, or through the sliding doors just past today’s promotional display, is made closer by the few who apologise for mistakes they didn’t make, who remember your last conversation, who stand there, their bike helmet straps slapping their cheeks as they say with smiles devoid of sleaze that filter out to their furthermost edges, see you next time. The ones eager to learn – where are the dates? The eggs? The tea tree oil?

When it comes down to it, we’re all social creatures, really, and for four hours at a time that’s exactly what I get to do, at its most basic level: dealing, assisting, looking to help those who are looking to feed their most basic needs. The woman in self-serve is trying to direct a customer. Gluttony is everywhere, sloth towards the back, lust exclusive to Aisle 7, just past the man with the combover, between the Panadol and BandAids.

ARTWORK BY Anais Poussin

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 59

60 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

COLUMN

JAMES MACARONAS PRESENTS

NOTES FROM THE WEIRD SIDE NUMBER 28: DONOGHUE JONES AND THE SPACEMAN TAPES

M

usic does not exist in a vacuum. Then again, there are very few songs about vacuums, so presumably there is a mutual agreement between the two.

The 1970s were a time of great innovation for music. Pink Floyd, Kraftwerk, David Bowie – all took existing trends and pushed them in new and different directions. For the most part this was met with critical acclaim. But in the story of Donoghue Jones, experimentation took a very different turn.

Donoghue Jones was, by all accounts, a competent if mediocre musician. His solo acoustic work had a small following and was inoffensive enough to earn an income playing at supermarkets – the so-called “Sainsbury’s circuit”. However, Jones was looking for more. He wanted “a different sound” for his next album, as recorded in his diary. Renting a studio in Shoreditch, Jones began to compose what he refers to repeatedly in his diary as his “magnum moped” – Spaceman. It was – as far as we can tell from Jones’ diaries – to have been a concept album drawing on science fiction themes that were prominent in the music of his contemporaries.

In 1975, Jones’ manager Benjamin Cleaver arrived at the studio, accompanied by the landlord, having heard nothing from the musician in several weeks. Finding a locked door and no sign of Jones, the pair summoned the police, who broke into the building.

Their discovery is recorded in both a police statement and Cleaver’s autobiography: Upon forcing an entry, I was confronted by the sight of the studio in disarray – scorched sheets of paper were everywhere, the recording equipment was sparking and instruments lay strewn across the room. In the recording booth was what I can only describe as the silhouette of Donoghue Jones – the shape of a man, filled in by a flickering light.

– Statement of DC Nicholas Edwards, first officer on the scene.

It was like someone had scrubbed him out with TV static. Same thing with the guitar slung across his chest.

The microphone just hung there in front of this … nothing.

– Excerpt from One Foot in the Rave, best-selling autobiography of Benjamin Cleaver.

And that, however remarkable, should have been the end of it. But, against police instruction, Cleaver pocketed the cassette tapes of Jones’ earlier sessions, which had survived undamaged by whatever it was that had burnt the rest of the studio. Stopping at a newsagent on the way home, Cleaver’s car was broken into and his

ARTWORK BY ELLA SHI

briefcase – containing the tapes – was stolen.

The police tracked the stolen briefcase to a student house in Dalston, but found nothing, save an empty cassette player and three unusually large yellow butterflies. There was no sign of the house’s three residents or the tapes. In early 1976, amateur musician Dan Lorne was sent to a private hospital after walking down the street naked, claiming he had seen the future and shouting, “Everyone’s a goddamn monkey!” to passers-by.

Constable Jane Burrows, who examined Lorne’s belongings, is reported to have wept tears of liquid chromium upon listening to one of three unmarked cassette tapes in Lorne’s collection.

These tapes were sent to music critic Ferdinand Baxter, who took them with him on holiday to the United States. There, on a scrap of notepaper in a Lower Manhattan hotel room, Baxter gave us the only insight into what Donoghue Jones had recorded for Spaceman: confident guitar work unusual chord progression can’t place the meter electronic sounds?

A day later, police were called to the hotel. Baxter had been found lying on his bed, frozen under a layer of ice. His belongings were untouched, save for his cassette player, which was gone.

In 1977, six music students disappeared from a motel room, leaving only silhouettes scorched onto the walls. Musician Annie Tremble has kept her hands gloved since an alleged incident with the tapes in 1979. A Colorado radio station tried to play one of the recordings in 1982, by which point the Spaceman tapes had become something of an urban legend. Three seconds into the broadcast, the station’s transmitting antenna collapsed. Rushing outside, station attendants found a mass of gold lizards where the debris should have been. In 1990, patrons fled a Sunset Strip nightclub as it was engulfed in electric blue flames.

At the time of writing, the exact location of the Spaceman tapes is unknown. Perhaps they are in the hands of a collector or gathering dust in an archive. Perhaps some naïve listener is about to press ‘play’. Or perhaps they’ve disappeared, just like Donoghue Jones himself.

He took it all too far But boy could he play guitar – ‘Ziggy Stardust’, David Bowie.

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 61

COLOURS OF PERU

62 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

CREATIVE

PHOTOGRAPHY BY Jialin Yang

FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE • 63

COLUMN

PATRICK HOANG PRESENTS

AN HOUR IN THE LIFE 8AM

I

fall in love on the train at eight in the morning. For most people, 8am is about as romantic as that ‘look-away and rapidly swipe right’ thing you used to do on Tinder when you were bored, but for me it’s as romantic as actually having read someone’s bio – then swiping right. There’s something about the bleary-eyed naïveté of the hour that gets me in the mood. It’s not coy and mysterious like twilight or sexy and unrestrained like midnight. The sun is bright and glaring; nothing is hidden – nothing is secret. 8am is plain, unfurnished and frankly kind of pissy. It’s not draped in a gossamer gown or wrapped in a velvet suit, but is rather poured into an illfitting business suit with some tomato sauce stains on the lapel, or a damp denim jacket which inexplicably still smells like Revolver: sex, sweat and regret. 8am is beautiful.

I always get on the train at exactly 7:58 and as I sit down on the dusty, graffiti-ridden seat (nothing in life is inevitable except taxes, death, and penises sharpied on trains), I’ll share a brief moment with the girl across from me. A second of eye contact, a courteous smile. I’ll politely smile back. The clock’ll tick over from 7:59 to 8:00 and the magic of the hour will begin.

The strange metallic smell that pervades all Melbourne trains will suddenly disappear and I’ll start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, this stranger is The One. The soulmate whom Zeus, fearing our combined power, split from me so long ago? I’ll summarily decide that she unequivocally is. This is the moment all those hours of Friends, How I Met Your Mother and countless rom-coms have prepared me for. The exact moment where my life will finally be given the greatest of all meanings: love worthy of a sitcom. I’ll close my eyes and imagine our future together.

On our first date, we take the 96 out to St Kilda. I joke nervously about my lack of a car. She doesn’t mind. We stroll down the Esplanade and she tells me about her keen interest in

64 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

18th Century French history¸ The Libertines and the work of Alfred Sisley. I make a joke about Molière and our hands briefly touch as we meander along the pier. The moment is perfect. The rain comes down. We kiss and the little girl and her band from Love Actually sing ‘All I Want for Christmas’ in the background.

Fireworks pop overhead.

Six years later and we’re living in a nice double-storey in East Malvern. We wear a lot of brightly coloured pastel cable-knit jumpers and one of the kids is named Tarquin or something (maybe Jacob?). We still look at each other the same way we did all those years ago (oh and the girl from Love Actually still sings Mariah Carey in the background every time we kiss). We really have found true love. I sit down at the kitchen table, smile and sip my decaf sugarless chamomile with honey. A letter addressed to me lies on the table amongst copies of Town and Country (hers) and Donna Hay: Fresh + Light (mine). Bemused, I open the letter with one hand, bringing my tea up for another sip with the other.

My eyes widen. The teacup comes crashing down with the force of a thousand thimble-sized suns. ‘My dear,’ it says, ‘I simply cannot abide by this boring life any more. I love you, but you have become the human equivalent of stale white bread – stale and white bred. I have decided to move to Rio de Janeiro with the dog and my lover. You can keep the kids. I’ve left you hotdogs for dinner, they’re thawing in the sink.’ My breathing quickens, my left arm tingles, pain envelopes the left side of my body. I die, heartbroken in my blue morning robe as the hotdogs silently defrost.

I awaken from my daydream to see my love has left the train. I sigh. Oh well. There’s always 8am tomorrow.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY Adam JOSHUA Fan

CREATIVE

RISE OF THE FLATTENED FAUNA

BY NATHAN FIORITTI

In reference to Flattened Fauna by Roger Knutson Tyres reversing over this flat thing, not just merely dead but really, most sincerely, dead.

Many tyres, reversing over and over, removing their tracks, and this flat thing becoming a not-so-flat thing.

And this not-so-flat thing drawing closer and closer to the living thing it once was, the living thing it will be again.

So much so that when the flat thing, becoming not-so-flat thing, becoming living thing, becomes, parts un-fall apart, connections rejoin, the Earth grasps again.

And then the living thing will wander once more, through street, through grass, through field, through bush.

Will wonder: What harsh mechanism ended me, flattened me out?

And then, what miraculous force brought me back?

ARTWORK BY Han Li

FARRAGO 2016 â&#x20AC;˘ EDITION ONE â&#x20AC;˘ 65

COLUMN

ELIZA SHALLARD PRESENTS

FLASH FICTION

WHEN EVERY STORY IS 100 WORDS, EVERY WORD COUNTS PROMPT 1 – CLIFFHANGERS: LEAVE US WANTING MORE Flashes

C

BY ELIZA SHALLARD

lark Polker wasn’t finished.

His first steps were in his mother’s kitchen. He watched his son’s steps on that same floor. His stepfather taught him to read. He read at his dad’s funeral.

He was a poker player, a zealous singer, a runner of marathons.

Clark didn’t take the slow lane. Clark was lively.

But that night none of this mattered. He didn’t hear his son’s voice or his mother’s laugh. Instead his wife’s scream echoed through his skull.

Clark didn’t even get the courtesy of seeing his life flash before his eyes. One moment he was here, the next –

LET IT BREATHE

KAFKACYCLE

A

BY JENNY VAN VELDHUISEN

s soon as she woke, she had a hunch that something was off.

She was an intuitive person, and the feeling made a lot of sense upon looking down and finding two little motorbikes where her arms once belonged. They revved, the fumes tickling her nose.

This was a far from ideal start to her Tuesday. She’d gone in for an ingrown toenail removal, so the motorbikes seemed unorthodox, though she was definitely not one to question a doctor. She needed answers, but picking up her phone was impossible without thumbs.

How was she going to collect Maddison from calisthenics?

C

harles didn’t know why he had come into the room that day. It had been a stressful day of filing, photographing and air-hockey and he’d just wanted somewhere he could go to that didn’t have the strains of ‘Let It Be’ soaring through the air directly into his ears.

He’d found the door to the room warm to the touch, as if it was some kind of living, breathing entity. Entering, he heard, not “when I find myself in times of trouble”, but the faint movement of air. In and out. The door snapped shut behind him as he screamed.

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

H

BY EVELYN PARSONAGE

e exited without bravado. The finale was far from grand. A body slowly eased off the edge of the world.

The audience dissipated after the meds mopped up the leftovers.

She stayed. The accomplice.

Now, He opens his eyes.

The room is fetid.

It smells like cat piss.

An old woman sits across from him. Her lips form a cheshire grin that teases him silently.

“Where…?”

The ring of a telephone stifles his bewildered babbling.

The woman reveals a cellphone and passes it to him.

He hesitates.

“Hello…is this…God?” Putrid laughter emanates from the device.

“Oh honey! Not even close.”

BY ROSE KENNEDY

THE BIRDS AND THE BEERS

“W

BY SIMON FARLEY

ant another?”

“Thanks, pal.”

A long sip. The bubbles sting the back of my throat. Wind catches flecks of spray and guides them to our faces. A long way down, the ocean heaves against the sandstone.

“I like coming here with you.”

I cease fiddling with the grass for a moment and look into your eyes.

“I like coming here with you too.”

You’re smiling. I’m smiling. And then, we’re kissing. And still smiling.

You pull away and look back out to the horizon. Overhead, an osprey soars.

“Oh no,” you say. “‘Oh no’?”

You shake your head.

“Oh no.”

Next edition’s prompt – Workplace Horrors: This One Time at Work Submit your 100-word Flash Fictions response to farragomedia2016@gmail.com

66 • FARRAGO 2016 • EDITION ONE

ARTWORK BY Edie M Bush

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