CONTENTS
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46
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4/ News in Brief 5/ Calendar 8/ HELP! New Scoreboard 9/ Budget Breakdown 10/ MUP in Turmoil 12/ Stalling Course Student Accom 13/ UMSU Experiments with Drugs 14/ MAD About Inequality 16/ Bursting the Parkville Bubble 17/ #VicVotes 18/ Campus Sustainability 19/ Satire 20/ Office Bearer Reports
24/ Consent Matters 25/ Diaspora Dilemmas 26/ A Cup Above the Rest 29/ My Boot-Box of Rocks 30/ Beyond subtle asian traits 31/ Living Well When You’re Unwell 32/ Straws 34/ Baggy Greens and Blue Suits 35/ Kiss and Tell 36/ Regulating Language 37/ Double Take 39/ Mythologies 40/ Grieving for an Acquaintance
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43/ Flash Fiction 44/ Paint to Poetry 45/ Peaches 46/ washin’ ya dishes 47/ I’m Ready for the Acid to Wear Off Now 48/ Moss 49/ Fairytale Gazette 50/ How to Stand Still 53/ You Are Safe Here 54/ A Thing With Feathers 56/ I’m a Poorly-Rated Sitcom Doctor and I Still Love You 57/ make way 58/ Casino Downs 60/ The Great Moth/Bee 61/ Crossing Over 62/ The Remarkable Quests of Raddish and Quill 64/ For and Against
COVER ART BY STEPHANIE NESTOR /
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COLLECTIVE
THE FARRAGO TEAM Editors Katie Doherty Carolyn Huane Ruby Perryman Stephanie Zhang Contributors Lauren Berry Madeleine Chetcuti Kaia Costanza Dan Crowley Marcie Di Bartolomeo Vanessa Jo Di Natale Natalie Fong Chun Min Alison Ford Jamisyn Gleeson Emily Johnson Stephanie Kee Tiia Kelly Vanessa Lee Hamish Litt Jasper MacCuspie Finbar MacDonald Maddy Simran Monga Andie Moore Rosalind Moran Alain Nguyen Jemma Payne Sonja Repetti Maddy Ruskin Elizabeth Seychell Callum Simpson Chiara Situmorang Carly Stone Angus Thomson Medha Vernekar Lucy Williams Lindsay Wong Mark Yin 4
Subeditors Ruby Adams Daniel Beratis Clare Bullard Jessica Chen Bridie Cochrane-Holley Claire Thao Duong Nick Fleming Emma Hardy Asher Harrington Ashleigh Hastings Stephanie Kee Tiia Kelly Wing Kuang Finbar MacDonald Marilla Marshall Sloan Amber Meyer April Nougher-Dayhew Ella Patrick Sarah Peters Yiani Petroulias Romios Ed Pitt Bella Ruskin Chiara Situmorang Carly Stone Greer Sutherland Alison Tealby Teo Jing Xuan Taylor Thomas Finley Tobin Tharidi Walimunige Sophie Wallace Charlotte Waters Reina Wibawa Caitlin Wilson Lindsay Wong Freyja Wright Catron Allen Xiao Claudia Young
/ ART BY AMANI NASARUDIN
Graphics Jennifer Luki Andreany Jean Helen Baulch Debjit Bhowmick Alexandra Burns Cathy Chen Bethany Cherry Van Ahn Chu Sonia Jude Reann Lin Hayley May Freya McLeod Amani Nasarudin Stephanie Nestor Monique O’Rafferty Sarah Peters T-Dog eXtreme Charanja Thavendran Tiffany Widjaja Lucy Williams Raymond Wu Yushi Wu Lizzy Yu
Social Media Sachetha Bamunusinghe Ashleigh Hastings
Columnists Conor Clements Creative Literature and Writing Society (CLAWS) Jocelyn Deane Alison Ford Kaavya Jha Madeleine Johnson Sarah Peters Veera Ramayah Luke Rotella A’bidah Zaid Shirbeeni Iris Shuttleworth Haley Zilberberg
Farrago is the student magazine
Cover Stephanie Nestor
of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU), produced by the media department. Farrago is published by the general secretary of UMSU, Reece Moir. The views expressed herein are not necessarily the views of UMSU. the printers or the editors. Farrago is printed by Printgraphics, care of the goodest man 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.
COLLECTIVE
EDITORIAL
W
e acknowledge Farrago is created on land that always has and always will belong to the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nations. This land is stolen and sovereignty was never ceded, and no acknowledgement is enough to give it back. We pay our respects to elders past, present and future, and to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, people who have been sharing stories and making art longer than anyone in the world. We thank readers for picking up our magazine and listening to what we have to say, and urge you to actively seek out, and listen to, the people whose land you exist on too. In the week leading up to sending this mag to print, each of the editors had a work-related stress dream. Caro dreamt she brought her cat to work and lost it, and woke to her boyfriend asking what she was snacking on during the night because she’d been audibly grinding her teeth. Ruby dreamt she hated the cover so she ripped it off, scrunched it up into a ball and ate it (obviously this premonition didn’t come true—Stephanie Nestor’s cover is so special Ruby cried when she saw the draft). Steph dreamt we went to election week without Media candidates for 2020 and without having made any magazines this year. Katie dreamt [redacted]. (N.B. It was a bit dark.) Regardless of the stress it caused us, we’re so proud of all of the content in here. Find the dirt in Medha Vernekar’s exploration into the University’s sustainability policies (pg. 17), or read your peers’ concerns about an insulated Parkville community in Alison Ford and Alain Nguyen’s piece (pg. 15). Steph really wants you to read the news section, it’s so important to stay informed about what’s happening around campus! In nonfiction, Dan Crowley draws together the joy of summer and the horrors of capitalism in a call to nationalise Cricket Australia (pg. 34), and Lindsay Wong looks at the tremendous impact of ‘subtle asian traits’ (pg. 30). Carly Stone’s short story ‘How to Stand Still’ (pg. 50) made Ruby cry every single read (she’s Very Emotional okay), and Tiia Kelly’s poem ‘I’m a Poorly-Rated Sitcom Doctor and I Still Love You’ (pg. 56) is the perfect mix of angst and satire. Check out Freya McLeod’s cowboy art that looks like a rock album from the 80s (pg. 38), and Raymond Wu’s white dude finding out what “”discrimination”” is (pg. 19). We poured lots of liquid into this mag, much sweat and many tears. Mostly because it was summer and we’re all depressed. What a whirlwind, what a toll on our mental health. Nah, but we really are so thankful for the opportunity to put this bad boy together. We’re also thankful for Mitski. And for Tim, UMSU’s new resident kitty. We once spent a whole day watching him peer out of a cardboard box in our office. And for our massive iMacs, on which we watch videos of rabbit jumping competitions in HD (except Katie, hers is broken). Catch ya next edition, Ruby, Katie, Caro and Steph P.S. To our collective mums: we’re fine, don’t worry about it. Love you <3 P.P.S. Fine? In this economy??
PHOTOGRAPHY BY SARAH PETERS /
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CAMPUS
NEWS IN BRIEF INVASION DAY A rally of approximately 80,000 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and allies took to the streets on 26 January in recognition of Australia’s history of colonial violence and structural oppression.
GLYN’S BUILDING The Melbourne School of Design building has been renamed after former Vice-Chancellor Glyn Davis, who left the University of Melbourne last September.
FRESH WIND INDIGENOUS RESIGNATIONS Serena Rae Thompson and Alexandra Hohoi, the two Indigenous office bearers elected last year have resigned on 4 December 2018. After a committee meeting on 25 January, Jordan and Marley Holloway-Clarke were appointed to fill the casual vacancy. A byelection is scheduled to occur later on in the year.
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The University, in partnership with the Melbourne Renewal Energy Project, have welcomed the operation of a new wind farm in regional Victoria.
REPSELECT 4EVA
After three previously failed attempts at electing representatives, the University of Sydney Union’s office bearers have finally been appointed, spelling major implications for collectives on campus.
PRE-BUDGET RECS
DIGGING
Universities Australia has released their pre-budget submission pending the 2019 Federal Budget. It includes a statement emphasising the social benefits of university education and research, and urges the government to end the two-year funding freeze and restore a demand-driven system. The submission also calls for an increase in international mobility for Indigenous students and for the government to consider an increase in student income support.
Excavation has begun for Parkville Station as part of the $11 billion Metro Tunnel Project and will continue for most of this year. Around 80 Olympicsized swimming pools worth of rock and soil will be dug up.
TIM
Union House has a new kitten! He was rescued from a hole in the wall by Goldie Pergl, the coordinator of volunteering and student representation, and is named after a Leatherman.
AND THEN THERE WAS ONE Education (Academic Affairs) Officer Ru Bee Chung has resigned, leaving Elizabeth Tembo the only Education Officer for Academic Affairs.
BREKKIE UMSU’s Welfare department holds a brekkie bar daily in the Ida Bar from 8:3010:30am, with a BBQ on Thursdays in North Court. Head over for any breakfast food you can think of!
NUS’ AGENDA The National Union of Students (NUS) has announced their plan for campaigning for student issues in the lead up to the 2019 Federal Election. The organisation is fighting for a National Taskforce into sexual assault and harassment on campus, a taskforce that Federal Education Minister Daniel Tehan axed. It is also demanding action on climate change, student poverty and accomodation. “The future for young people is looking increasingly bleak so we’re calling on the government to implement positive policies for our future,” NUS President Desiree Cai said. “Students deserve action on these issues, we deserve to have a future worth fighting for.”
GROUP OF EIGHT
Professor Dawn Freshwater, the vicechancellor of the University of Western Australia, will chair the Group of Eight, Australia’s elite university body in 2019. Under Freshwater, the organisation will affirm a strong advocacy position ahead of the upcoming Federal election, emphasising the role of universities in a nation.
THE NEW KIDS VTAC’s first round preferences showed that the University of Melbourne’s arts and science degrees remain the most popular undergraduate courses in Victoria.
DULDIG DEPARTS Paul Duldig, former head of University Services since its inception in 2014, and custodian of the student precinct project, has left. The nature of his departure remains unclear. The position has been temporarily filled by Neil Robinson, who was previously deputy head of University Services.
CAMPUS
CALENDAR : MONTH O WEEK
WEEK 1
WEEK 2
WEEK 1
MONDAY 25 FEB
MONDAY 4 MAR
MONDAY 11 MAR
MONDAY 18 MAR
1pm: Special consideration (am I eligible?) information session—Disabilities
TUESDAY 26 FEB
1pm: Speed friending 5:30pm: PoC Summerfest film screening
5:30pm: PoC film screening
TUESDAY 5 MAR
TUESDAY 12 MAR
TUESDAY 19 MAR
12pm: WoC collective 1pm: Trans collective 1pm: Enviro collective 1pm: Tuesday bands ‘n’ bevs 1pm: Southbank Queer collective 3pm: Special consideration info session
12pm: WoC collective 1pm: Trans collective 1pm: Enviro collective 1pm: Tuesday bands ‘n’ bevs 1pm: On Track & Syndicate 5pm: Welfare—Yoga
12pm: WoC collective 1pm: Trans collective 1pm: Enviro collective 1pm: Tuesday bands ‘n’ bevs 1pm: Southbank Queer collective 5pm: Welfare—Yoga
WEDNESDAY 27 FEB
WEDNESDAY 6 MAR
WEDNESDAY 13 MAR
WEDNESDAY 20 MAR
1pm: Word (games) play 1:30pm: Boardgames with PoC and UMSU International 4pm: Anxiety Support Group 5pm: Mindfulness Workshop All day: Clubs day one
12pm: Women’s collective 12pm: Welfare collective 1pm: Queer Lunch 1pm: PoC collective 4pm: Anxiety support group 5pm: Mindfulness Workshop 7pm: Start of Uni Party
12pm: Women’s collective 12pm: Welfare collective 1pm: Queer Lunch 1pm: PoC collective 2pm: Queer Political Action 4pm: Anxiety support group
12pm: Women’s collective 12pm: Welfare collective 1pm: Queer Lunch 1pm: PoC collective 2pm: Queer Political Action 4pm: Anxiety support group
THURSDAY 28 FEB
6pm: Beer and Boardgames
All day: Carnival day
THURSDAY 7 MAR
THURSDAY 14 MAR
THURSDAY 21 MAR
12pm: Anti-Racism 101 12pm: Queer PoC collective 1pm: Mental wellness and disability collective 3pm: Enviro picnic 3pm: Speed friending 4pm: Farrago launch party All day: Clubs day two
12pm: Queer PoC collective 12pm: PoC reading group 1pm: Mental wellness and disability collective 6pm: Arty Party
12pm: QPoC collective 12pm: UMSU Int’l x Welfare info session 12pm: Southbank Women’s collective 1pm: PoC in media collective 4pm: Fitness class 5:15pm: Meditation
12pm: QPoC collective 12pm: Southbank Women’s collective 1pm: Mental wellness and disability collective 1pm: PoC in media collective 4pm: Fitness class 5:15pm: Meditation
FRIDAY 1 MAR
FRIDAY 8 MAR
FRIDAY 15 MAR
FRIDAY 22 MAR
12pm: Mudcrabs—Rowdy writing 3pm: Art Therapy
12pm: Mudcrabs—Rowdy writing 6pm: St. Patrick’s Day
2pm: Botanical drawing workshop at Burnley 3pm: Art Therapy 7pm: Union House sleepover
12pm: Mudcrabs—Rowdy writing 5pm: Gaming Night
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/ ART BY ALEXANDRA BURNS
Has something happened on campus thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s made you mad? Did you hear about something dodgy? Or just have a story you think Farrago readers should know about? We want to bring you the best news possible. Let us know if you see or hear something you feel we should look into by emailing us at editors@ farragomagazine.com or stephanie@farragomagazine. com. Confidentiality will always be upheld. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be afraid to speak up.
ART BY BETHANY CHERRY /
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NEWS
HELP!
NEW SCOREBOARD
EMILY JOHNSON TELLS YOU WHAT TO EXPECT
ANGUS THOMSON REPORTS
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niversity students supported by Higher Education Loan Program (HELP) will start paying back their loans earlier than before, as the repayment threshold of the program will be lowered to $45,881 from July this year. The new repayment rate will sit at one per cent of taxable income, which amounts to around $500 a year for low-income earners. The amendment that brought the new threshold will also see all tuition fee assistance programs combined under one lifetime loan limit beginning in 2020. Some students at the University of Melbourne have concerns about the increased financial burdens resulting from the adjustments made to HELP. “The combining of HECS and FEE-HELP loans will put students like me into a lot of debt as they’ll have to pay tens of thousands in uni fees upfront,” said postgraduate student Katrina Bell. Sophie Wallace, a student from regional Australia, also worries the change could discourage potential students living in rural areas from attending universities, particularly those who are struggling financially. Other students believe the changes are fair. “For Indigenous students especially, completing a university degree breaks the intergenerational cycle of economic disadvantage,” said an Indigenous student who wishes to remain anonymous. University of Melbourne Student Union President Molly Willmott has expressed disappointment over the new HELP system. “Putting into account the cost of living increasing and more graduates failing to find employment, added pressure to repay a degree so early is unfair and puts low-income graduates at risk,” said Willmott. “The threshold should at least be raised back to $55,000.” “The University is opposed to the reduced cap on HELP loans and has informed the Government of its view,” said a University spokesperson in a statement to Farrago. “The University understands the serious financial implications of the cap for some students. The University is committed to access and equity and is currently examining alternatives for minimising the impacts of the HELP cap. The University reminds all students of the financial services available on campus.” 10
/ ART BY STEPHANIE NESTOR
A
$250,000 state-of-the-art scoreboard has been installed at University Oval. Completed in September, the scoreboard is part of Melbourne University Sport’s (MU Sport) threeyear plan to upgrade facilities at the Oval. The electronic scoreboard runs remotely from the scorers’ box and sits on the southern side of the Oval, accessible to players and spectators. The old scoreboard was purchased for $30,000 twenty years ago by Melbourne University Cricket Club (MUCC). According to Facilities Manager Paul Reading, the upgrade was needed as the old scoreboard had become impossible to find replacement parts for. “$250,000 is obviously a lot of money but [it] will be an asset to the Oval for decades to come,” said former Newman College football captain, Liam Maiden. The project was facilitated by MU Sport in consultation with stakeholders, primarily Melbourne University Football Club and MUCC. According to General Manager of MUCC, JeanLuke Desmarais, the upgraded facilities at University Oval will attract student athletes wishing to combine athletic development with their studies at the University of Melbourne. “Certainly [the new scoreboard] only consolidates the University of Melbourne’s position as the best university for sport in the country,” said Desmarais. The scoreboard project follows the $6.7 million refurbishment of Ernie Cropley Pavilion on the Oval’s northern side in 2014. The new scoreboard is part of the University’s plan to attract larger crowds of students to representative matches at the Oval. The first of these is set for March 11, with Melbourne and Monash University going head-tohead in both men’s and women’s T20 cricket. Future plans for University Oval include renovations to the western grandstand and a refurbishment of paths around the precinct. Maiden believes the project will attract more people to watch sports, from the heritage-listed pavilion. “Once the [western grandstand] gets upgraded it’ll be a great place to watch footy and cricket from as it is positioned in a perfect spot around the oval,” he said.
CAMPUS
BUDGET BREAKDOWN SIMRAN MONGA BRINGS YOU UMSU’S BUDGET FOR 2019
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he University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) passed its budget for 2019 on 7 December 2018, with several funding increases to autonomous departments as well as considerations for the election year ahead. UMSU’s budget is partially funded by the mandatory Student Services and Amenities Fee (SSAF) all students enrolled are required to pay. Roughly one third of SSAF funds are allocated to UMSU, with the 2019 SSAF income being $7,211,020. It is anticipated that an additional SSAF grant of roughly $240,000 over the 2019-2020 period will be approved. The rest of UMSU’s budget comes from sponsorships and other third-party servicing. This year, discussion from the budget council focused on funding for the National Union of Students (NUS) and financial reimbursement for student volunteers. Money allocated towards NUS affiliation has been upped significantly over the last few years, and, after lengthy discussion, was proposed to be raised from $50,000 last year to $65,000 this year. Some members of council opposed this allocation, criticising the NUS for its inefficiency and lack of transparency. Others believed the increase was necessary given that students face a federal election year in 2019 and higher education funding has continuously been cut by the federal government over past years. The education department’s budget has also been increased to a total of $49,100 due to concerns over the election. The increase of $5,000 from last year was added with the aim of campaigning to educate students about the insand-outs of the upcoming federal election, as well as continuing the work of previous years of campaigning for better public transportation for students and working on the book co-op. In addition, due to changes in UMSU’s management policy which were made in an effort to increase student control, most departments received an increase in funding allocation. The clubs and societies department remains the
recipient of the most funding, receiving a total of $308,850. The department received an extra $2,000 from the previous year, and supports over 200 clubs on campus. Autonomous departments in particular have experienced an increase in funding over the years due to an increase in SSAF allocation and an increase in planned initiatives, doubling in size from budgets of around $20,000 each back in 2016. The disabilities department in particular hopes to start new initiatives in 2019 including the inauguration of a disability space, a publication, and an expansion of collectives and department activities. In an attempt to address the inactivity on satellite campuses, the Southbank department received a total of $54,200—almost $20,000 more than last year. Students at the Southbank campus can expect a carnival during O-Week, as well as regular lunchtime events, a drag show, and a ball. However, funding allocated to the Burnley department has decreased due to services deemed redundant and outside of UMSU’s scope. Burnley’s budget was also decreased last year, putting its current budget at $40,000. There were a few other highlights from this year’s budget. This was the first year that UMSU has decided to affiliate with the Australian Students’ Environment Network as a whole, rather than it falling solely under the environment department’s jurisdiction. Additionally, following recommendations from the Union’s Chief Executive Officer, options are being examined currently on how best to incorporate reimbursement to student volunteers. The media department is the most affected by these recommendations, as honoraria allocated for Radio Fodder, Farrago Video, and other managers have been frozen. On the budget as a whole, UMSU President Molly Willmott said, “The budget was finalized out of utmost respect for students and the money they pay and values of representing and delivering the best for students.” ART BY STEPHANIE ZHANG /
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NEWS
Content warning: mentions of child sexual abuse
MUP IN TURMOIL STEPHANIE ZHANG ENSURES WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE
I
ndependent members of the Melbourne University Publishing (MUP) board and Chief Executive Officer Louise Adler have resigned over the new proposed direction of the publishing house to focus on academic works over trade publishing. In a statement, the University of Melbourne said that MUP will “refocus on being a high-quality scholarly press in support of the University’s mission of excellence in teaching and research.” The decision was made in December 2018. The refocus comes after a review of the publishing house, ordered after the publication of the 2017 Walkley award-winning Cardinal: The Rise and Fall of George Pell by ABC journalist Louise Milligan. A University spokesperson told Farrago, “There is no connection between the decision to refocus Melbourne University Publishing on being a highquality scholarly press and the Pell book.” The University of Melbourne’s chancellor, Allan Myers QC, was Cardinal George Pell’s barrister during the royal commission into institutional child sex abuse. Farrago is not suggesting Myers’ representation of Cardinal Pell influenced the University’s decision. The five independent directors that have resigned in support of Adler include former NSW premier Bob Carr, former chairman Laurie Muller, PwC executive Tony Peake, businessman Danny Gorog, and former human rights commissioner Gillian Triggs. Triggs, in an interview with ABC RN Drive, however, said that the latest review was a positive one, but that it revealed the original objectives set out for the publishing house had been met. “I feel that as they’ve adopted a much more narrow scope for MUP. I think it’s only fair that the University should have the opportunity to appoint new directors that would give effect to that more narrow interpretation of that kind of work they want to publish,” Triggs said.
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/ PHOTOGRAPHY BY DEBJIT BHOWMICK
“My understanding is that the vice-chancellor is keen to look at the models of Cambridge University Press and the Yale Publishing Companies as models that he prefers, and he thinks that focus on scholarship and of academia and the works of the academic community is a desirable way to go,” Triggs also said. According to The Australian, a memo sent by ViceChancellor Duncan Maskell to MUP board members ordered a “reset” of the publishing house’s missions. In a piece for The Canberra Times, former chairman Muller writes, “given the gravity of what is planned for MUP, communication from the new vicechancellor has been minimal.” Farrago understands that Adler was blindsided at the council in December, when the decision was revealed. Others believe that the shift is being made over financial concerns. The publisher has received $1.25 million a year in subsidies from the University for 15 years. Only recently under Adler was the company able to break even, making a profit of $286,000 last financial year. The financial state of the publishing house had prompted three separate reviews over the recent years. In a lengthy statement for The Australian, Maskell writes that the publishing house has a “bright future” and that the decision was unanimously supported by council. He states that the three reviews over the last decade “highlighted the need to secure MUP’s future”. However, Muller believes that “in addition to the sustained editorial achievement of MUP, the business and financial side has never been in better shape”. In an increasingly competitive industry, some have speculated that moving to focus on academic works may not be financially viable for the commercial publishing company, especially given Australia’s small publishing market. Additionally, MUP will be commencing an open-
NEWS
access service for academic works, leading to further questions about MUP’s financial future. Muller, in a response to Maskell in The Australian, points out that open-access is “all cost and zero income”, and the repurcussions of the loss in sales is “unsound and in conflict with [MUP directors’] responsibilities”. MUP will also be creating an editorial advisory board to determine what will be published. While Maskell claims this practice is to ensure the quality of publications, Muller questions the editorial independence in the publishing house’s future. Adler, a prominent Australian publisher, had been with MUP since 2003. Under Adler, commercial titles such as Rachel Perkins’ First Australians, Mark Latham’s diaries, Tony Abbott’s Battlelines and Bill Shorten’s For the Common Good have been published to widespread impact and notoriety. “The MUP board has consistently upheld the mandate to publish fine writing from the academy and beyond that contributes to public discourse and documents the national story,” Adler said, thanking writers and the board for their work in a statement. “MUP has been receiving a significant university subsidy for a long time. These changes have been a long time coming featuring extensive consultation within the university community,” Tyson HollowayClarke, student-elected representative on University Council and former University of Melbourne Student Union president, said. “I trust that with this refocus we will see a better use of university money,” Holloway-Clarke said, adding, “I think this change in direction will facilitate more opportunities for academics and some more clarity about what it takes to get published.” Political pressure mounts as a potential public funding model has received bipartisan backing. Labor’s shadow research minister Kim Carr, and former education (now defence) minister Christopher Pyne have suggested funding MUP in a model similar to The Conversation.
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DEBJIT BHOWMICK / 31
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NEWS
Content warning for ‘Stalling Course’: mentions of sexual assault
STALLING COURSE
STUDENT ACCOM
VANESSA JO DI NATALE CATCHES YOU UP
LAUREN BERRY REPORTS
T
he University of Melbourne, despite accepting all recommendations of the Australian Human Rights Commission’s (AHRC) Change the Course report on sexual assault at universities, has failed to respond to the commission about what’s being done to address one of the key recommendations. Recommendation four requires universities to “commission an independent, expert-led review of existing university policies and response pathways in relation to sexual assault and sexual harassment”. However, the recommendation stipulated that the review had to be commissioned within a year of the 2017 report’s release. “Melbourne Uni did accept all of the recommendations made by the Australian Human Rights Commission,” said Director of End Rape on Campus Australia Sharna Bremner, adding, “Without external reviews, we found that nobody was really questioning what was being done and there wasn’t much accountability, either.” Bremner suggested that “unis and colleges have been saying the right kinds of things, and making it look like they are taking action” without taking action and complying with the report’s recommendations. Following the release of Change the Course last year, news broke of widespread sexual assault at Ormond College, with an October report in The Age alleging at least 15 cases at the University of Melbourne college. Master of Ormond Lara McKay subsequently announced plans to introduce anonymous reporting, but there has been no public statement or apology from the University. This response followed the release of another report in early 2018, The Red Zone, which alleged that “university leaders use residential colleges as a scapegoat to abrogate their own responsibility”, and that “universities are quick to portray colleges as separate institutions”. Additionally, the University shows no signs of adopting anonymous reporting.
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/ ART BY CATHY CHEN
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new scholarship program commencing in 2020 will award talented domestic undergraduate students who face financial challengers with free accommodation, general allowance, and financial and personal support. Recipients of the Hansen Scholarship will receive housing at Little Hall—a new student residency currently under construction on Swanston St, Carlton. Set to open in 2020, it will house 669 students, including 20 Hansen Scholars, and is funded by a $30 million gift to the University from the Hansen Little Foundation. According to the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) welfare office, Little Hall will be an improvement on student living at the University and offers many benefits which other residential colleges do not. “University colleges are very expensive … most colleges have 35-week contracts, whereas Little Hall offers 48-week contracts,” said Welfare Officers Natasha Guglielmino and Ashwin Chhaperia. Little Hall will also provide an Academic Enrichment Program to all residents that aims to support residents’ academic and career endeavours as well as personal welfare during their bachelor’s degree. 303 Royal Parade, another new residency opening ahead of Semester 1 2019, will be providing 285 rooms and high-quality facilities, and will be within close proximity to the Parkville campus. “Less time spent on travel means students get more time to study at university and rest at home,” Guglielmino and Chhaperia said. Students would also save on overall living expenses as rent is all-inclusive. They also highlighted “substandard conditions” that students reportedly still live in, even under “approved accommodation providers”, adding that many international and interstate students find themselves living in “shoddy and/or expensive accommodations”. 303 Royal Parade is part of the newly launched Melbourne Accommodation Program (MAP) which aims to aid students in finding the right accommodation. Through MAP, students can apply for multiple accommodations through a single application.
NEWS
UMSU EXPERIMENTS WITH DRUGS LUCY WILLIAMS ON THE NEW POLICY
T
he welfare department of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) has introduced a new drug policy this year involving pill-testing kits and workshops as harm-reduction becomes the focus. This policy is in collaboration with Students for Sensible Drug Policy (SSDP), and has been approved by Victoria Police and UMSU Students’ Council. To begin the trial of this new Safer Partying Initiative, UMSU Welfare has begun hosting pill-testing workshops, the first of which occurred in January, from which free pill-testing kits are being provided. Workshops include first-aid and legal advice, education on drug testing, literature on campusbased medical services, and disposal instructions for illicit substances along with a strong reiteration to not bring illicit substances to any university campus. These changes have come about amidst broader societal discussions around drug testing as a result of recent deaths and several hospitalisations at the Knockout Games of Destiny dance festival in Sydney in 2018, and at the Rainbow Serpent festival in Victoria in 2019. Rather than shutting down festivals, as suggested by the NSW Premier, Gladys Berejiklian, UMSU believes that pill-testing is a useful method of dealing with a widespread issue, that can and does extend beyond the festival grounds. Welfare Officers Natasha Guglielmino and Ashwin Chhaperia said that the basis for the project began in 2015 after Students’ Council “passed a motion to support harm reduction principles and the distribution of reagent pill-testing kits”. Then in 2016, “UMSU Welfare created a harm reduction policy which was expanded upon in 2018. UMSU Welfare’s Safer Partying Initiative came to fruition in 2018 in collaboration with the SSDP Australia,” they said. UMSU literature over the policy’s formative years explains that the fundamental principle of harm reduction is a more holistic approach to minimising harmful effects over broad recommendations of
abstinence, and while UMSU does not condone illicit substance use, their duty is first and foremost to the student body, including students who do partake in illicit substance use. This holistic approach encourages an openminded and noncoercive attitude to deal with what is ultimately a multifaceted phenomenon. Guglielmino and Chhaperia added, “We realise that the initiative is susceptible to criticism due to the ongoing stigma associated with drug use. However, licit and illicit drug use is a part of our community. Harm reduction is a way to reduce the negative consequences of drug use which saves lives.” The State Minister for Health Martin Foley could not be contacted for comment, but told The Guardian in January 2019 that Victoria Police were concerned that pill-testing might give “a false, and potentially fatal, sense of security about illicit drugs”. However, the welfare officers believe pill-testing should be viewed as a public health initiative, “just like the state government’s safe injecting room and needle exchange program”. “Neither of these programs seek to normalise drug consumption—only to reduce harm and protect the wider community,” they add. The most recent cost estimates for the continuation of on-campus workshops is $2,500, which was passed by the Welfare Committee earlier this year, of which a portion comes from the Student Services and Amenities Fee. UMSU also recognises that there are factors that make certain communities particularly vulnerable to drug use, which can subsequently affect their capacity to deal with drug-related harm. Harm reduction, as a principle, aims to include drug users in the creation of programs and to empower them as the primary agents in harm reduction, while not minimising or ignoring the danger associated with substance use. It is hoped these policies will enable all students to make healthier choices and share information with their communities. ART BY CATHY CHEN /
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CAMPUS
MAD ABOUT INEQUALITY MADELEINE JOHNSON ON GENDER REPRESENTATION IN MATHEMATICS
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ast semester, upon walking into the first class of my Master’s degree, I was surprised to discover I was just one of only two women in my entire program. Masters in pure mathematics is a small group, but female and non-binary students make up just 10 per cent of the cohort. We’re in a time when feminism and gender representation are major talking points in the media and it appears that a real effort is being made across multiple arenas to address these sorts of issues. So why do some areas of study at our university seem to be stagnating at representation figures that seem like they belong in the 1960s? Gender representation in maths is an issue close to my heart and it is the reason I wanted to start writing these columns. But inequality at our university doesn’t stop at issues of representation. Racism, transphobia, ableism and various other forms of discrimination still prevent students from fair and equal access to tertiary education. I want to explore particular aspects of inequality at our university through interviews with students affected. I hope it will generate a platform for discussion of the issue and brainstorming of potential solutions. In mathematics, there’s a big drop-off in percentage representation of female and nonbinary students between undergraduate courses and postgraduate courses. So, to explore this further, I interviewed five women and one nonbinary person who are currently undergraduate maths students at the University of Melbourne. When I asked these students about what they intended to do after completing their undergrad degree, the reasons behind poor postgraduate representation quickly became apparent. Only one of the six indicated explicitly that they were considering postgraduate studies in maths. Four indicated intention to pursue either study in another field or enter the workforce, and one gave an “I’m not sure” response. But why is this the case? I asked these students about whether they felt their gender had affected their studies of maths, and whether it was likely to affect their decision about studying maths in the future. Five out of the six students I interviewed
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identified a way in which their gender had negatively affected their experience of studying maths. Four out of the five women I interviewed identified a sense of isolation, or lack of belonging, as a result of their gender: “As a female I found studying maths to be quite isolating. It can be hard to form meaningful relationships with your peers when most of them are male.” “I do find [my gender] limits the people who want to work with me—I tend to see students band together in their gender groups which is very exclusionary as the gender balance is so skewed in the STEM fields I’m studying in.” Some of this sense of not belonging seems to stem from lack of female and non-binary role models, and some from implicit societal expectations about what a typical mathematician should look like. “I feel that the lack of female role models has given me a distinct sense of not really belonging in maths. Out of 15 lecturers I’ve had for 13 maths subjects, two have been female. I think it’s really hard to feel that you belong when you don’t see many people who look like you.” “People were often surprised when I said I liked maths and was planning on majoring in maths/mathsrelated majors. While some of these reactions I can attribute to the general population’s perception of maths, when it came from guys who were also studying STEM majors it seemed that they were surprised because I don’t fit the ‘maths-geek’ stereotype which is typically thought of as male.” The non-binary student I interviewed also felt that their gender had affected their studies, stating: “I’m often not comfortable being out as non-binary in class the way I could in my previous arts degree, because I’m less sure my tutors have had the training or experience to know how to handle any issues that arise and back me up if another student is being an asshole.” Three students I interviewed also explicitly stated that their gender was going to affect their decision about whether or not to continue studying maths in the future: “If the field I’m going into is hostile to someone of my gender so that I will never really belong nor be afforded the same opportunities, then I have to seriously question whether it’s worthwhile pursuing it knowing I’ll have to
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constantly put up with these attitudes.” “Unfortunately, my gender will absolutely play a role in what I do after my undergrad. It’s somewhat bearable when tutors and lecturers and classmates you won’t see after that semester misgender you (because it’s often a matter of me not having the energy to strictly enforce pronouns or provide a gender 101 to people when I’m just trying to get through the class material), but I won’t be able to do postgrad without finding a niche where my gender is respected.” “[My gender won’t] be the main issue stopping me but it still has some influence over my decisions. In some ways also being aware that there’s underrepresentation makes me even more determined to study maths or other male-dominated subjects, and though this counterbalances some of the obstacles, I’m not always sure that stubbornness will get me through.” It is clear that further action must be taken if gender representation is to improve. Five out of six students identified areas where more could be done to address gender representation. The main ones included: • Better gender representation in teaching staff across mathematics subjects at all levels. • Mentoring programs for female and nonbinary undergraduate students. • Scholarships for female and non-binary students. • Training for teaching staff on supporting transgender and non-binary students in the classroom. “I feel there are some great organisations (e.g. [the Australian Mathematical Science Institute]) trying to decrease or offset the difficulties women experience, but ultimately every institution needs to make sure that they aren’t being biased or negatively influencing people, intentional or otherwise.” “[Actions that could be taken include] connecting young maths students with mentors who can guide them, and who can also make students feel less alone, would be helpful I think (to be honest I’m not sure if this is already happening at UniMelb). Also, the lack of scholarships for female / non-binary maths students seems like an obvious opportunity that is currently being missed at UniMelb.” “I would like to see a comprehensive training program regarding respecting gender diversity, not
assuming pronouns, and giving tutors the tools to back up trans students who experience pushback from fellow students. There are so many trans people in this field—I think tons of tutors, academics, etc. would want to support us but simply don’t have the training.” Additionally, the initiatives that do exist that were mentioned by the students were largely ones external to the University (for example, the Australian Mathematical Science Institute’s ChooseMaths program). One student noted that they hadn’t seen many “active efforts” by the University or School of Mathematics & Statistics to address gender representation, and other students were uncertain about actions either of these organisations were taking. Given that most of the actions suggested by students are within the capabilities of the School and the University to deliver, I hope these organisations are able to consider implementing of some of them and to improve communication to students of any work they are already doing to address gender representation. After all, as one student noted: “This maths department and maths community in general are very traditional in a lot of ways, and this tends to suit traditional students only and makes it difficult for students who don’t fit the mould. And you can’t really expect this cycle of underrepresentation and homogeneity to change without changes being made first from within.”
To see the interviews in full, please go to farragomagazine.com. I welcome feedback, criticism and comments, particularly from anyone affected by an issue discussed in these columns, and can be reached at madeleinej@student.unimelb.edu.au. I am currently looking for students with disabilities who would like to be interviewed for Edition 3. If you are interested please contact me at the above email address.
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BURSTING THE PARKVILLE BUBBLE ALISON FORD AND ALAIN NGUYEN EXPLAIN
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any forget that the University of Melbourne doesn’t begin and end at Parkville. In fact, its community is far-reaching and extends to satellite campuses, such as Southbank and even Dookie, across Victoria. It has been acknowledged that there is a “Parkville bubble”, where borders have been drawn and campuses have become more insulated. With most student services and events located at the Parkville campus, the student experience (or the lack thereof) at the satellite campuses is often overlooked in favour of their bigger Parkville counterpart. As such, there is talk of a “Parkville bubble” when it comes to the University’s quality of life. These problems have been acknowledged by the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) President Molly Willmott. Speaking to Farrago, she acknowledged that a “Parkville bubble” does exist, and she aims to be more “proactive” in her term as head of the Student Union. “It is really easy to stay at Parkville,” Molly Willmott said, “especially if everything, including UMSU offices, are here.” The comparable ease of studying at Parkville and a different set of expectations may be the cause of allegedly high dropout rates at the Southbank campus. These dropout rates could be reduced if more active intervention was undertaken by UMSU, said Willmott. Farrago tried reaching out to the VCA Student Coordinator Lily Ekins but she did not respond to a request for comment in time. However, the imbalance in student engagement does not stop at the proximity of the campuses. It also extends to issues surrounding the resources and infrastructure relevant to Southbank students. Some of these pressing issues have unfortunately been neglected in favour of the single-minded focus on Parkville, with Willmott commenting that food initiatives were delayed for implementation at Southbank. “[We could use a] proper canteen/eatery,” said Justin Tan, a student at the Southbank campus. “But hey, the building’s under renovation and they’re providing food trucks and a cafe, so it’s something. We can always walk to nearby places for food anyway,” Tan said. Tan believes that the lack of awareness may also stem from an indifference towards UMSU. “I don’t personally know anyone who participates in the student union stuff. The only 18
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time I saw an [UMSU] person was when the elections were going on. I think it should be called a ‘VCA Bubble’ rather than a ‘Parkville’ one since the main campus is the Parkville campus. We don’t need to interact with the UMSU much, and even more so considering the distance.” Whilst Tan’s perception lies upon the onus that Southbank students don’t “need” UMSU, recent graduate Cheryl Ho believes that the Parkville bubble is really due to logistical issues. “Because there are so many more students at the Parkville campus we often get left out on a lot of events/gigs and opportunities. And lots of facilities as well.” Back at Parkville, Willmott concedes the Parkville bubble is “an ‘us’ problem rather than a ‘them’ problem”, with UMSU historically and currently based in Parkville. This is compounded by the mentioned indifference towards UMSU and its services. As such, the lack of student interest across University of Melbourne campuses is the “biggest threat to the union,” says Willmott. However, with time, frustration towards the lack of resources might be placated when renovations are eventually completed. The Southbank campus that hosts the VCA and Melbourne Conservatorium of Music is undergoing a facelift with new facilities set to open at some point in the next few years. In addition, VCA students have their own Stop 1 centre for any student enquiries. Students have also expressed their views on the efforts being made by the University staff with repeated mentions by the students interviewed about the work of Senior Enrichment Officer Dove Rengger-Thorpe. Ultimately, the “Parkville bubble” can’t be popped physically, but through effective cross-collaboration between the campuses, its communities and the administration. Willmott identifies that it is a University-wide problem, with campuses being highly insulated the “crux of the issue”. “We represent every University of Melbourne student,” Willmott asserts. “Satellite campuses have gotten a lot louder with Southbank students being more active and Parkville’s starting to listen properly now.”
NEWS
#VICVOTES JASPER MACCUSPIE TAKES ON THE STATE ELECTION
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aturday 24 November of last year saw Victorians head to the polls to vote in the state election. What was initially forecast to be a close Labor victory resulted in a rare political landslide, with Daniel Andrews regaining the premiership with apparent ease. The Labor Party gained eight lower house seats, taking their majority to 55 out of a total 88 seats; the Liberal-National Coalition lost 11 seats to shrink to 27. The Greens picked up a single seat, taking their total to three. The final three seats were won by independent candidates. Labor’s victory came on the back of a strong push towards infrastructure, launching proposals for an airport rail link and outer suburbs rail link, along with the ongoing construction of the Metro Tunnel in the CBD. “[The Labor Party] were not only dealing with an opposition that seemed determined to focus on niche culture-wars-type issues (e.g. Safe Schools), but voters could see the results of what the government had been doing in terms of upgrading infrastructure that would benefit a huge number of people,” said Conor Clements, a member of the Australian Labor Party. While the Victorian Labor Party is widely considered one of the most left-leaning branches in the country, more socially progressive students may be disappointed by the poor returns of the Greens. Some pundits saw the Greens winning as many as five seats, though this did not eventuate: the party lost the seat of Northcote to Labor, won in Brunswick, and fell just short in Prahran. If the party had attained the five seats they were targeting, they may well have had a better chance of chasing their key policies, including the declaration of the Great Forest National Park. “It is disappointing that [the Greens] missed out on the opportunity to form minority government with Labor and force more progressive policy positions, but we made gains
in most seats we heavily contest and we will certainly be back in greater numbers in the future,” said Callum Simpson, a member of the Moreland branch of the Greens. Despite these results, it is important to look at the impact that this election is likely to have on students. Labor returning to power will see the improvement of key public transport infrastructure that will likely benefit many at the University of Melbourne. The continuing construction of the CBD subway will allow students to head straight to Grattan Street from Melbourne Central or Flinders Street stations. In addition, the airport rail link will give students living north of Melbourne better access to the campus, with Sunshine set to receive a new transport hub. For the Liberal Party, meanwhile, this election was nothing short of a disaster. The seeming inability of voters to distinguish the state branch from the failings of the federal government saw a loss that will be hard to overcome in just one election. Even formerly safe seats such as Hawthorn were lost. “The disappointing performance of the Liberal Party at the state election can be attributed primarily to their inability to coherently and effectively translate their message,” said Melbourne University Liberal Club representative, Henry Kerr. It is also worth noting that some controversy occurred in the Upper House, where preference allocations directed by Glenn Druery, working for Derryn Hinch’s Justice Party, saw some seats won by candidates by miniscule primary vote percentages. This was due to Victoria’s preferencing legislation, which has been outlawed in most other states in Australia. It will be a little while before students start to feel the impact of last year’s state election. The effect of policy on students is only set to increase, however, with the federal election all but confirmed for May.
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CAMPUS SUSTAINABILITY MEDHA VERNEKAR FINDS THE DIRT
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he University of Melbourne’s new sustainability policies have been riddled with miscommunication between its implementation and its advertising. Some of the changes introduced in the last academic year have included the introduction of mixed recycling bins and the switch to use 100 per cent recycled copy paper across the University. According to bright yellow posters plastered across the campus, mixed recycling bins can recycle everything from paper, and steel cans to takeaway food containers and disposable coffee cups. However, the University’s own sustainability unit, Sustainable Campus, have included in their FAQ page that these bins are not able to recycle takeaway coffee cups. Despite this, the University continues to advertise false information online, at the time of writing. The University of Melbourne Student Union’s (UMSU) former environment officers, Lucy Turton and Callum Simpson, confirmed to Farrago that the University’s recyclers are unable to strip the plastic linings from the disposable coffee cups, and never have been. Sustainable Campus’ claim contradicted the environment officers, saying, “Up until recently, our recycling contractors were able to take coffee cups.” “I don’t think the Uni was maliciously trying to ‘lie’ about the cups being recyclable, but I would imagine the real issue is communication between the various institutional arms of the University,” added Turton. In response, a spokesperson from Sustainable Campus said, “We’re currently overhauling our waste strategy to ensure our recycling streams are free of whatever is considered contaminants. With this, we will be updating our posters and other such communications to align with tightened industry guidelines and our new waste strategy—this can be expected by orientation week.” Last year, the University announced that it was switching to 100 per cent recycled copy paper in March “across the University”. However, Esther Le Couteur, an English honours student and a former editor of Farrago, couldn’t find 100 per cent recycled paper for printing flyers during the student elections last September. As per UMSU regulations, printouts needed to 20
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be made from 100 per cent recycled paper, and since the University had made the announcement in March, Le Couteur went to the Baillieu Library instead of the usual stop at Officeworks. “I was rifling through all these different cupboards in the old printing room at Baillieu for some printing paper and just got interested in the fact none of them said recycled. I had this awkward walk around a few printers in the library and when there were paper packets in the bin they didn’t say recycled either,” said Le Couteur. The University’s student printing service clarified that only the Fuji Xerox printers were run by the university and other HP and Toshiba printers were run by different departments. Le Couteur had used an HP printer before the Baillieu Library made the switch to Fuji Xerox printers in December last year. Sustainable Campus also responded saying that the University has been using 100 per cent recycled copy paper but “depending on previous stock levels held by various departments, it is possible they have not yet made the switch. For all staff purchasing new paper, they can only access 100 per cent recycled paper through our preferred supplier.” Zhang Qun, a Masters design student, hopes the University puts more effort in sustainability, particularly in the Melbourne School of Design (MSD) building. Qun alleged that the two cleaners who are stationed at the MSD regularly empty the recycling and the rubbish into the same bins. He claimed he has raised this issue during the student-staff meetings for MSD students but was told that “because of ‘recycling becoming contaminated’, the cleaning contractors will not sort them through.” A spokesperson from Sustainable Campus said that the claim is very difficult to prove and monitor: “Sometimes the cleaners put the bin bags of waste and recycling in the one trolley to take down to the bins in the loading bay and separate them there. This can look like they are putting it all in together. Every effort is made to train the cleaners in correct procedures and to emphasise that they must not only do the right thing but also be SEEN to be doing it as well. This issue is why the black and clear bags system was introduced—to differentiate the two streams.”
SATIRE
Is My Tutor Flirting with Me or Does He Just Want Me To Do the SES?
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t’s the age old, end-of-semester question: is your cute tutor from PSYC20006 vying for your affections before you move onto PSYC30013 and split ways forever, or is he just trying to get you to complete the Student Experience Survey? Sure, it’s tough to tell sometimes, but, if you’ve ever heard any of these before, we’ve got news for you: Cupid has finally shot his arrow your way! “Make sure you start studying for the exam early, so you can take out a few minutes to do the SES.” Even though he says this to the whole 2:20pm tutorial group, you know he’s trying to just avoid coming on too strong to you. And the way he says it is SO not in the regular ‘it’s week 12’ sort of way, but in the way that says ‘I care about your future, baby. I want the best for you, not just in your academia, but in your mental health. Relax that brain, baby girl.’ “Historically, it is the information gathered from the SES, that myself, and many other tutors, use to shape the teaching methods we use in forthcoming years.” Aw! He wants you to know that he’s a forwardthinking guy! He’s so the type you could bring home to your folks. They’re obviously going to fall in love with his long-term mindset. Your dad will be raving to you about what a ‘well-intentioned man’ he is after he meets him at Sunday brunch! “Look. I’ve got chocolates. Vegan ones too, if anyone needs them. Just fill out the fucking thing now and I’ll give you some. For fuck’s sake.” A MAN THAT LOOKS OUT FOR YOUR DIETARY REQUIREMENTS?! HE WANTS TO FUCK YOUR VEGAN ASS, EMILY. Now, go on, make your move and enjoy your semester break knowing that you’ve found love.
Caucasian Student “Gets How Racism Feels Now” After Experience as Minority in ECON10004
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s excited as he was to embark on his Microeconomics breadth, Connor White, 18, has not found it easy to fit in. “When I walked into the lecture theatre and saw this sea of black hair, to be honest with you, I was intimidated. Me and my mates never hung out with Asians or anything like that back in school,” he recalls. “I just couldn’t do it. I had to get out and get a Grape Escape from Boost to calm down.” Despite the rough start, White worked up the courage to attend his tutorial later that week. He has since maintained a steady attendance for the sakes of both his 10% Participation grade and his hunky tutor. However, he continues to feel alienated in class. “Sometimes the internationals speak their own languages to each other and I’m like, hey? Bit rude to exclude me from your private conversation, don’t you think?” “They do use English with me but I don’t engage because they’re pretty hard to understand,” he adds. “They’re as un-ocker as you can get.” White has also been unable to connect with his AsianAustralian tute mates. Eyes brimming, he describes feeling ostracised when they talk about bubble tea and strict parents, as he has never had either. Nevertheless, there is a silver lining. White’s painful experience, he believes, has opened his eyes to social injustice. “I never understood what the big deal was about racism—I mean it’s not like it’s 1920, right? But now I get it one hundred percent. No one should have to feel marginalised because of their race the way I have.” When asked what he would change to make the University more racially inclusive, White’s suggestion was stunning in its simplicity: “Affirmative action for my culture, for once, would be a start.”
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OFFICE BEARER REPORTS PRESIDENT/ MOLLY WILLMOTT Hi there! Welcome to your UMSU for 2019. My name’s Molly, and for me, my university adventure started in an UMSU club, and has taken me to volunteering opportunities, activism, and now as your President. As you navigate the jungle that is the University of Melbourne, UMSU will be with you every step of the way. We support you to make your experience as a student the best it can be—from the classroom to campus to work to home. My office is level 1 of Union House, I’m always down to have a diet coke and a chat about your issues. Whether it be the good times or bad as you venture through your degree, come say hi to UMSU—you won’t regret it!
GENERAL SECRETARY/ REECE MOIR As Stitch once said: “Gootcha! Aga tookie! Toga meega student union.” I don’t know what that means but I hope it’s something positive. WELCOME to UMSU. This student union is your gateway to some of the best experiences you could imagine – whether it be through clubs, collectives, or campaigns. Through collectives and campaigns, you can get involved in department committees and maybe with Students’ Council (as a proxy or through the elections, uwu). According to the Australian Financial Review, 2019 will be a year of lower returns but oh boy, that is far from the truth for you! Please see your student representatives on level one and see how you can get involved!
ACTIVITIES/ LIAM O’BRIEN AND OLIVIA PANJKOV Hey, we’re Liam and Liv. Here are some big things planned to kick off the year. Union House Sleepover 1 March—what better way to learn about your union than joining us for a massive 12-hour celebration overnight. Start of Uni Party, 6 March— start uni by partying with those you’ll see throughout the year, with pizza, a DJ and a bar. St. Patrick’s day, 22 March—alcohol and food all included in the price of one ticket. Scrape together your best Irish outfit and celebrate into the night. Tuesday BBQs—free with beers and concerts. Wednesday BBQs—runs weekly during semester. We’re located on level 1 Union House next to the Ida bar. Come say hi.
BURNLEY/ JAMES BARCLAY
As the new semester begins, our desire to become organised and set out good habits for the year can be a last-minute rush. Picking out stationary, spending lavishly on ‘compulsory’ textbooks and organizing concession cards, which really should just be a student ID (current concession cards expire feb 28th btw). What helps me stay in rhythm for the new year is the seasonal changeover of my veggie patch. Obvious mental and physical health benefits aside, the routine and responsibility of taking care of living beings inspires further productivity in our day to day. You may be thinking ‘but I’m already so busy’ and that may be true, however taking five minutes to water some plants can act as your necessary escape to meditate and plan out your day. So why not get your semester started with a living salad box?
CLUBS AND SOCIETIES/ JORDAN TOCHNER AND CHRIS MELENHORST Hello!! We are the Clubs and Societies department; here to assist, oversee and encourage all things clubs! If you are part of an existing club we hope to see you at some point throughout the year if you have any questions or want to meet our friendly penguin mascot Gunter. If you are not part of an existing club, we encourage you to pick up one of our clubs guide and join in. Or if one our 200+ faculty, course-related, food & beverage, sports & games, special interest, culture & language, spiritual, community service, political & activist, music & dance or theatre clubs fail to pique your interest, you can always create your own! We look forward to seeing you all!
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CREATIVE ARTS/ ELLIE HAMILL AND LUCY HOLZ Hello!! We are Lucy and Ellie and we’ll be your Creative Arts Officers for 2019! And what a year it’ll be. We’ve been busy beavering away with preparations for the year including diving right into Mudfest, the biennial creative arts festival, which will be held in August - so many opportunities to get involved! So keep your eyes peeled for production team opportunities, artist applications, workshops and soooo much more! We’re very excited for O-Week from Arty Party to a Botanical Drawing Workshop, to getting crafty at Carnival Day and getting to meet all the gorgeous new humans keen to be involved in Creative Arts this year! Here’s to a funky fabulous year of Creative Arts wooh!
DISABILITIES/ JOCELYN DEANE AND LUCY BIRCH Welcome to semester one 2019! We are UMSU’s Disability office bearers, Lucy and Jocelyn. Uni can be chaotic for anyone, especially those with ongoing/chronic conditions, and it is our job to ensure a space for such at Unimelb. Apart from running information nights so that you’re aware of your medical rights, we also run regular social events. From February to March, we have our inaugural disability collective and anxiety collectives, speed friending, wellness and art-therapy sessions, as well as the opening of the brand new disability space. If this sounds like your jam, or are just looking for a calm, accessible space, feel free to come along. And if that doesn’t impress you...yes, the food is free :)
EDUCATION ACADEMIC/ ELIZABETH TEMBO Hi! I’m Elizabeth and I am your 2019 Education Academic (“Ed Ac”) Officer! I’m a 3rd year science student and boy, if there’s one thing I love more than education, it’s equitable access to it! Ed Ac works directly with the Uni to influence policy and practice, ensuring they’re student-centred. The radically transformative nature of education is what makes it an invaluable human right. That’s why I believe it’s integral to ensure our diverse student body is given every opportunity for success on and off campus. One way I’ll strive for this is by combatting highly weighted exams across faculties, from music to commerce. Why not pick up a booklet at Summerfest to find out more, and join me in this endeavour!
EDUCATION PUBLIC/ CHARLI FOUHY AND CAMERON DOIG G’day friends, mates, pals and haters! We’re the new Education Public Affair Officers of 2019 (EdPub for lingo purposes). Charli Fouhy is a rad chick from regional Qld, tryna make sparks in an Electrical Systems Science degree and Cam Doig is the coolest JD student south of Grattan St. We’re two activists who are passionate about climate change, refugees, workers’ rights and general inequality in this society we live in. We meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays and have the most relevant s**tposting Instagram @umsueducationpublic in the vicinity of Union House. There’s 10,000 ways to get involved in our campaigns, but a good starting point is on our website: bit.ly/ umsued. Cannot wait to meet you and get activisting!
ENVIRONMENT/ WILL ROSS
Love the environment? Hate the fact that climate change, fossil fuels, and big biz are still destroying people and the planet? Come join the Enviro community, where you can meet like-minded folks and work together to be heard. Learn skills for community organising, direct action, dumpster diving, cooking, gardening, and more! This semester there’ll be regular Skills Workshops, Play With Your Food and Community Garden events, and the upcoming Radical Education Week. Our Fossil Free and Lockout Lockheed campaigns will continue to demand full divestment and call for the Uni to cut ties with weapons manufacturers. Collective meetings are on Tuesdays 1pm-2pm, in Graham Cornish A (Lvl 2, Union House). Snacks and chai provided. Come visit us at our stall during O-week!
INDIGENOUS/ JORDAN AND MARLEY HOLLOWAY-CLARKE Wominjeka! Welcome new and returning students, we are the new Office Bearers for the Indigenous Department! Our first upcoming event will be the Carnival Day on 26th Feb at the Parkville campus. Murrup Barak will be hosting their Welcome Back BBQ Lunch for Aboriginal/Torres Strait Islander students on the 5th March in Deakin Court.The department will be releasing its social calendar in the upcoming weeks so keep an eye out for it! Our main goal for this year is to support the Indigenous student community by bringing everyone together through social, community, arts and sporting events. The department is located on the First Floor of Union House in the Student Representatives wing so swing by or send us an email if you wish to chat.
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PEOPLE OF COLOUR/ FARAH KHAIRAT AND MARK YIN
*waves enthusiastically* Hello! We’re delighted to be your 2019 People of Colour officers. Our department strongly believes in Empathy, Awareness, Compassion and Harmony <3 We also love a theme. This summer, Mark’s been sunbathing in our office, while Farah’s been frantically finding WiFi in Morocco; we’re keen to get the (beach) ball rolling, stat. Regular events set sail from Week 1, so whether you’re coasting or just drifting, we’re shore to have something for you! Film screenings and reading groups run in odd weeks (starting with Crazy Rich Asians), and there’s always our weekly collective (Wednesdays 1pm—FREE FOOD! We’ll see ya there). Dive into our socials (@umsupeopleofcolour) for our Anti-Racism workshops and publication, Myriad! Seas the day and say hi—we can’t wait to meet you.
QUEER/ ANDIE MOORE AND WILL PARKER
SOUTHBANK/ LILY EKINS
Hi! We’re your Queer officers! Our job is to run cool events, look out and advocate for LGBTQI+ students! This year Queer’s getting bigger and better. Alongside our free Queer Lunch Wed 1pm, Trans collective on Tues, Queer People of Colour Collective on Thurs, and Coming Out Support Group, we’re running a casual drinks event (G&Ts with LGBTs) at the Ida Bar every Thurs night, hosting kick-ass activist speakers every second Wed with the Queer Political Action Collective, and launching a fortnightly Southbank Queer Collective picnic! During Summerfest, pop by our stand, pick up a zine, munch with us at the Queer Picnic, and meet friends at our Speed Friending! You can also stop by our Queer Space on Level 3 of Union House, and chuck an email at queer@union.unimelb.edu.au if you have any queer-ies.
The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legends fade to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the third age by some, an Age yet to come, an age long pass, a wind rose in Southbank Campus. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings or endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning. Welcome to 2019! We’ve got an exciting year ahead. Drop in to see us to see us at the UMSU space on level 2 of the Hub building to chat how we can help you, support you, or get you involved!
WELFARE/ ASHWIN CHHAPERIA AND NATASHA GUGLIELMINO Hi, we’re Ashwin & Natasha, your Welfare Officers for 2019! To new students, congratulations and welcome to our lovely community at the University of Melbourne. To those joining us from last year, welcome back to a year of fun-filled events designed to help you get the most out of your time here. The Welfare Department is excited to see you all during SummerFest. We don’t believe in saving good things for the end so, starting Week 1, we will be back with our daily breakfasts and weekly fitness classes. Get involved in the community, meet like-minded people and make friends by joining the Community Involvement Program (CIP). Join us to have a say in making university life better for all students!
WOMEN’S/ ARIA SUNGA AND HANNAH BUCHAN Hey there, we’re Hannah and Aria, your 2019 Women’s Officers! The Women’s Department is welcome to all women and non-binary students and we exist to make your life at uni better. In the Women’s Room (Level One, Union House) you can find a bunch of free things like pads, tampons, and safe sex supplies. We’re really excited to meet you all and we have a lot of great things planned for O-week, like picnics and a special UMSU Women’s moonlight cinema. This year we are focusing on making women students at this university feel safe and supported. This includes providing resources to all students, and advocating for safety on campus. We hope you love engaging with our department just as much as we do.
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Content warning: sexual assault and harassment
CONSENT MATTERS MADDY ON THE UNIVERSITY’S NEW CONSENT MODULE
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he story so far: in the beginning the University of Melbourne was one of many institutions that introduced the Consent Matters program as part of their response to the 2017 Australian Human Rights Commission (AHRC) inquiry into university sexual harassment and assault. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” — Douglas Adams, probably. If you read the AHRC report, you can see the advice it gives universities on how to tackle sexual violence on campus. Among other things, it recommends targeted education programs—and it stresses that these programs should be evidencebased and ongoing. This last part is where a lot of the public concern seems to stem from. One year on, many people are still baffled that Consent Matters was chosen when the AHRC report outright states that “education programs which are one-off or which are just a ‘tick a box’ exercise are not effective”. If you’ve done the Consent Matters quiz, you’ll know just how tick-the-box the program is. Furthermore, a review by Women’s Health West found that, beyond being ineffective, one-off programs can actually be counterproductive and result in a “backlash in attitudes”. There are also problems within the course itself. The modules use scenario-based learning; each is a sort of choose-your-own-adventure task, with every decision moving the story forward in a different way. But even if you make all of the right choices, the module will still send you to the page with the worst-case ending. It’s not graphic, but for some people it could be very triggering. Other universities give students the option to complete a different task if needed, but if the University has that option, it’s not advertised. Instead, there is a slide at the end of the module listing support services for students who find its contents distressing. It’s things like this that make me wonder if enough thought went into who would be using the program. For many students, both local and international, this program may be the first
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sexuality education that they receive. The course is very comprehensive, but to get the most out of it you really need to be comfortable with its frank descriptions and language. It reminds me a bit of the girl I worked with once at a TAFE open day. She dealt with students who were uncomfortable with the topic of sexual health—whether for social, cultural, personal, or religious reasons—by chasing them down with a condom and metaphorically whacking them over the head with it. To be fair, I don’t know how to go about reconciling sensitivity with the very real need to destigmatise discussions surrounding sex and sexual health. But I do think that people are at their most receptive when they are not made to feel upset or unsafe by what they are reading. None of this means that the program is useless—especially for many of our generation who received their primary sexuality education from pornography. As a 2016 paper by White Ribbon New Zealand indicates, there is a strong link between porn consumption and increased sexual coercion and aggression. People’s “sexual expectations, practices, and repertoires” are shaped by what they watch, and this can have serious real-world consequences for their partners (if we’re being honest, the paper points to men as the main consumers of porn, and therefore the main perpetrators). But as the report also states, the best way to combat this is with alternative education that encourages mature and ethical decision making in relationships. The Consent Matters course is as good a place to start as any; it explores some of the ambiguities that can pop up in relationships, whether casual or committed, and could potentially be a bit of a wake-up call for some of the people who don’t think that their behaviours are wrong or harmful. The University is doing a lot of other work on this issue, such as boosting their student support services. It’s just in the area of education, ironically, where they seem to be falling short.
Content warning: death
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DIASPORA DILEMMAS VEERA RAMAYAH ON LOSS AND DISTANCE
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he evening we found out that my granduncle had been brutally taken from us, my childhood home no longer felt like home. The air hung heavy and the humidity that served as a reminder of the inevitability of summer clung to my skin, making it hard to breathe. The loss of a loved one is a pain that always seems to hit an exposed wire deep inside your soul. No matter what spiritual or religious principles of impermanence guide you, nothing can quite prepare you. I’m lucky, or unlucky depending on how you look at it, that I haven’t had to experience many instances of loss during my life. This, alongside a deep-rooted love for Disney films, has resulted in me having a slightly naïve worldview, and the inherent belief that everything will always be as it has been. Although, when I realise the reality of morality, I am weighed with a feeling that time on some unseen clock is soon running out. My family spans the globe like someone picked us all up, held us above the earth and shook us out at random. Scatterings of cousins, once, twice, thrice removed seem to exist everywhere, and like most immigrants can tell you, family group chats tend to involve people that you didn’t even know about. Most immigrants share my experience of living in a country that is different from that of the majority of their extended family. Instead of being connected by a vast expanse of highways or train networks, we rely instead on delicate strings hung carefully between satellites. The result? Sending and receiving WhatsApp chain messages, and/or a plethora of ill-timed phone calls due to the enemy of different time zones. When you throw loss into the spiderweb, oftentimes we silently reel, miles away from “ground zero”, and have to be creators of our own closure. We find our own ways to say goodbye. In our case, we gathered silently around our altar, thousands of kilometres away, whilst the rest of our family were gathering at the temple for the funeral processions. And due to the blessing (or curse) of being geographically distant, we begin to move on, in our own ways. Geography spares us the agony of being present and experiencing the aftermath of any passing, especially when it is sudden. In the case
of my grand-uncle, on reflection, it often feels like someone picked up the book of his life and tore out the rest of the chapters so roughly that even the spine collapsed. Routine falls back into place, albeit a little haphazardly, and we rely on yet more updates in family chats or calls. In all the distance it creates, the physical ache of not being able to be there and provide menial comfort to your loved ones is a hard, stiff and bitter pill to swallow, yet most immigrants will tell you that it is merely a spoonful of a medicine we have been taking our entire lives, with rarely a spoonful of sugar to chase it. The artisan craft of creating our own closure is one that our communities know well. It’s something that gets unknowingly passed on through generations, and it’s there at almost every waking step when we are fortunate enough to reunite with family overseas. Among family dinners and reunions, everyone always saves a small amount of room for unsaid realisations of the theoretical possibility of it being “the last time” that everyone around the table, is sharing a meal together. In today’s fast-paced world where even taking a moment to catch your breath seems impossible, loss is a brutal and ugly speed bump that forces you to put things into perspective. In the midst of pain, we are forced to take a step back, stop and reconsider our priorities and the equivalent weightage we attach to things in our lives. For whatever loss takes away, it also has a funny magnetic ability to bring people together. Drifting, potentially estranged relations tether themselves to each other in the hopes of better survival odds against the seas of grief. It has now been three months since my grand-uncle passed away, and some of us have clung to bits of driftwood: work, family commitments or spirituality in order to remedy the incomprehensible nature of his departure. The few stories of my grand-uncle that have come trickling out leave us all with a warm feeling of fondness. Although our family ecosystem will never quite be the same, I take a small amount of comfort in knowing that the stories we tell will keep his memory alive. And I’d like to think he’s looking down at us with fondness too.
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Content warning: menstruation
A CUP ABOVE THE REST SONJA REPETTI ON AN ALTERNATIVE TO DISPOSABLE PERIOD PRODUCTS
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lthough the taboo surrounding menstruation is waning, pads and tampons still tend to triumph in popularity over the humble menstrual cup. According to a fascinating article by Natalie Shure in Pacific Standard magazine, the menstrual cup has a long history dating all the way back to the 1930s. That menstrual cups are today still largely unheard-of is, in my opinion, a travesty. I am by no means an expert, but I have tried a range of different menstrual products: pads, tampons (with applicator and without), and even that weird period underwear that is advertised incessantly on Facebook. I have found the menstrual cup superior to absolutely everything else I’ve tried. So, at risk of becoming a female university student cliché by talking about vaginas in the student magazine, allow me to sing the praises of this little cup of silicon. The premise: you place the cup inside your vagina where it chills happily, collecting fluid for up to 12 hours depending on your flow. Once it’s full you tip it out, give it a rinse and wash with scentfree soap (in a public bathroom stall I just give it a wipe with toilet paper) and stick it right back up there. When your period is finished, you boil it in water for five minutes to sterilise and then it’s all ready for the next month, and the next, for up to five years according to manufacturers. Like tampons, the smell when you have it in is negligible, which is nice. But unlike tampons, next to no link has been found between menstrual cups and toxic shock syndrome, a terrible bacterial disease that is rare, but that I nonetheless can’t stop thinking about whenever I have a tampon in longer than like an hour. The big reason I love it, however, is environmental. It’s hard to go through an environmental science degree without feeling that sweet, sweet guilt for your 28
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negative impact on the world. Using cups (both Keep and menstrual) helps me assuage some of this guilt when I come home after a day of producing plenty of plastic pipette waste. Yet, menstrual cups also have their difficulties. You become a lot more familiar with your bodily fluids. I experienced some sticky situations early on working out how long I could leave mine in based on my flow, and getting the hang of removing the cup (which goes in a lot easier than it comes out) is also tricky at first—I recommend doing it in the shower your first few tries. Plus, if you have an intrauterine device (IUD) and still menstruate, you have to be a bit more careful when placing and removing your cup to avoid dislodging the IUD. Finally, there’s the cost. A menstrual cup is around $50, which is pricey upfront, especially if you’re buying for the first time without being able to try it beforehand. But if you think about the fact that they can save the cost of five years’ worth of menstrual products (albeit now at a marginally lower price in beautiful post-tampon tax Australia), it’s a pretty sweet deal. If this all sounds appealing, the internet is your friend, as is your doctor if you are comfortable talking with them about this kind of thing. There are heaps of videos and articles where people share their experiences using cups. Online is also the best place to get one, and there are many brands to choose from. Of course, menstrual cups just may not be for you. The cost, ick factor and unfamiliarity are the main reasons cited online as to why cups have not been widely adopted, along with resistance to change. Whether or not sticking things into your vagina is your cup of tea, by knowing about the range of menstrual products available, including menstrual cups, you can be informed to choose the best option for you.
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MY BOOT-BOX OF ROCKS CALLUM SIMPSON SHARES THE STORIES OF HIS ROCK COLLECTION
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ome people store collectibles in shoe-boxes, but I need a boot-box to store my rocks. Why rocks? For some, it’s the polished beauty of a gemstone that tickles their fancy or the perfect shape of a well-cleaved crystal which strikes awe. However, you will find my collection dominated by earthy colours and imperfect shapes. I find that the greatest thing about a rock is the story it tells. As a youngster, I would spend a lot of my pocket money on small gemstones at the local health food store. These were small, colourful and polished to catch the eye. I collected them by the dozen. I even bought a copy of The Crystal Bible, only to be disappointed to find more information about chakras than the stones themselves. There’s a common perception that scientific understanding removes the “magic” and romance from an object, but I couldn’t be more in dissent. My favourite gemstone from those days was the tiger’s eye. It comes in many colours, particularly red and brown, but its distinctive feature is its thin banding. How this banding forms is the most interesting feature of the gem. Many tiger’s eyes are small pieces of banded iron formations (BIFs), which are massive stone formations kilometres thick and many kilometres wide. BIFs are bands of iron-rich haematite and chert, which individually are only centimetres thick. It is these ancient rocks, up to 2.6 billion years old, that provide much of central Australia’s most impressive landscapes. But these rocks could only begin to form when the first bacterial life began photosynthesising light and oxygenating oceans and skies. This process drove the most dramatic climatic event of our planet’s history, Snowball Earth, when the earth was covered in ice as potent greenhouse gases combusted away. Glacial deposits became the dominant rock in this era and BIFs disappeared deep into the crust. For the avid rock collector, nothing beats the experience of finding your first fossil! Over two summers, I volunteered with Dinosaur Dreaming, the Cretaceous period fossil hunt run by Melbourne Museum. It’s hard work, breaking large chunks of hard, grey sandstone into pieces the size of sugar cubes in the hot sun and sandy wind of the Cape Otway coast. I kept my first bone, which was an underwhelming coin-sized brown patch, likely from a fish. More exciting was my third find, a slightly squashed, but still whole, vertebra. This bone was kept by the museum for later preparation and research, for it likely came from a small polar
dinosaur by the name of Leaellynasaurus. Leallynasaurus lived some 100 million years ago in the polar forests of Victoria. The climate was far warmer than today and the polar regions were covered in conifer forests. Australia was rifting apart from Antarctica at the time, which produced wide and deep river systems to rival the Amazon. Among these forested valleys lived tiny, agile herbivores like Leaellynsaurus, as well as predatory newt-like amphibians the size of crocodiles, named Koolasuchus. All the clues to this alien world, from the fossils to the ripple marks left by rivers, can be found under the sands along the coast of Cape Otway and Gippsland… if you just know where to look. The prized items of my collection are the stunning gemstones I collected whilst on a fieldtrip to Broken Hill. For third-year Geology, one can choose to spend two grueling weeks under the beating sun criss-crossing the desert-like scrub, looking for the next outcrop to map and observe. But on our day off, we visited a local rock collector within whose shed lay a magnificent collection of huge, polished gemstones expertly arranged. He took us out along dirt tracks to find impressive gems of our own. Amongst the gems, my favourites were the many garnet crystals I took home. Their earthy colours may be relatively dull, but it is their habit of forming perfectly shaped dodecahedrons that impresses me. What awesome forces could produce such a crystal? Broken Hill is on the eastern edge of the Australian Pre-Cambrian Craton, a landscape dominated by deserts above, containing ancient rocks below. Rocks deposited in shallow, lifeless seas over a billion years ago were then buffeted by continental collisions and crushed by growing mountain ranges. Rocks that befall this fate are called metamorphic, because, much like an insect from a larva, they are reborn; their crystals are regrown under immense heat and pressure. For my little garnets to form required temperatures above 530 degrees Celsius and over four thousand atmospheres worth of pressure. I struggle to comprehend the billion-year ordeal this 50-cent piece-sized gem underwent before being dug up by a curious human. My years of amateur rock collection have imbued me with a deeper appreciation for both the fragility and power of nature. I hope that by sharing such stories, we can all learn to appreciate the full 4.6 billion year story of the earth beneath our feet.
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Content warning: mental illness, racism
BEYOND SUBTLE ASIAN TRAITS LINDSAY WONG LOOKS PAST THE MEMES AND BUBBLE TEA JOKES
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hat do you get when you combine memes about bubble tea, hilarious reaction videos, and multilingual puns? The answer is “subtle asian traits” (SAT), a Facebook group aimed at Asians living in the West. Originally started at the end of 2018, the group now has over a million members. Most of the people in this group share one trait in common: being the children of Asian immigrants in Western countries. In its short—but impactful —existence so far, SAT has made Facebook a more enjoyable, inclusive network to be on. SAT was originally started by a group of young teenagers living in Melbourne. Inspired by a group called “subtle private school traits”, 21-year-old radiology student Angela Kang decided to start the Facebook group after realising that she was not alone in her experiences; many of her friends could relate to the jokes and stories that she shared with her brother. Because it is a public group, friends started adding their other friends. Now it has over a million members, not only from Australia, but also the US, UK, Canada and more. On SAT, content ranges from bubble tea appreciation to crazy parent stories, Tinder conversations, and many other snippets of secondgeneration Asian life. A common occurrence is bilingual play on English words, where many posts combine one—or even multiple—Asian languages with English to form humorous, often elaborate puns. This kind of clever content is not solely for those who understand both languages—it allows users to connect with their mother tongue, or potentially learn a new language. And of course, people bond easily over similar experiences like music lessons, tuition school or just their parents’ funny habits at home. Even Asian-Australians can relate to the (often identical) experiences that their American counterparts post on the page! Beyond the K-pop and anime, users have also taken to SAT to discuss taboo subjects usually not raised at the dinner table. Mental health features prominently; Asian households sweep it under the rug because it is seen as degrading. For many older Asians, having a mental health
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issue indicates something wrong with the person who has it. As such, SAT has become a safe place for users to discuss their stories and their family’s reactions. When one user posted about her yearslong struggle with anxiety as a result of parental pressure, comments numbered in the hundreds, ranging from “I related to this so much” to “you are not alone”. Another pressing topic are incidents of racism and discrimination, especially in Western countries. Users discuss the negative experiences they encounter, as well as suggestions on how to react, further increasing the sense of community within the group. Many Asian-Australians live between cultures: they grow up in Australia, immerse themselves into the Aussie lifestyle, identify as Australian, yet their heritage is anything but. This also applies to Asians in other Western countries, like in the US and Canada. Seen in this light, the effect of SAT is remarkable. Members realise that other people have similar experiences to them, and as such become more comfortable with their identities. Instead of feeling embarrassed about being Asian, a new generation of Asians are displaying their “Asian-ness” with pride. The establishment of SAT has inspired similar Facebook groups including “subtle curry traits” for those of South Asian descent, and even smaller spin-off groups like “subtle asian dating”, a matchmaking group where friends advertise each other in hopes of attracting dates. Funnily enough, there’s now a “subtle white people traits”, and a “subtle bogan traits” in (mock) admiration for Australia’s most beloved culture. “subtle queer asian dating”, “subtle asian networking”, “subtle asian food”... the list goes on! “subtle asian traits” not only brightens up Facebook feeds with hilarious memes and relatable stories—it fosters a cultural identity, a sense of togetherness between people with an Asian background across the world. As the group expands, the positive impact that it has on Facebook will only continue to be tremendous.
Content warning: chronic illness
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LIVING WELL WHEN YOU’RE UNWELL HALEY ZILBERBERG ON DISABILITY AT UNI AND BEYOND
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elcome to Living Well When You’re Unwell—a column that answers all your questions about navigating uni, life, relationships, and jobs with disability and chronic illness. Help! I’m a second-year student and I’m really struggling with my classes. I was finally diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome a few months ago after suffering from it for ages and I’m hoping to do a bit better in uni this year since I’m finally getting treatment. The problem is I get flare ups in my condition which are really painful and zap me of my energy. How do I keep from failing assignments if I keep getting ill? -Scared of Failing Dear Scared of Failing, Although it isn’t necessarily a good thing, I wanted to say congratulations on finally getting a diagnosis. Putting a name to an illness that has affected you for a number of years is no small feat. It’s great that you’re finally getting treatment and starting to feel a bit better. Disability means something different for everyone, but the one thing that holds true across the spectrum is that those with disability are experiencing barriers: to education, to employment, to relationships with friends and family, to romantic relationships, to physical spaces, and to much more. Navigating uni on top of health issues can feel overwhelming, but there are options that might help. If you’ve never heard of Student Equity and Disability Support, they’re going to be a great resource. They can help you obtain necessary accommodations like alternative exam arrangements, flexibility for attendance, and assignment extensions. Registering for ongoing support might be all you really need to feel comfortable and confident as you start your second year of uni. If you give them a ring, they’ll be able to tell you your options and make sure you receive the support you need to do your best in uni without exacerbating your health conditions. Good luck! I’m doing well in uni but terrified of the ‘real world’. How can I get and keep a job if I have a disability? Do you have any tips? -Not Ready to Graduate
Dear Not Ready to Graduate, I understand what you mean when you say you’re terrified of the ‘real world’ after graduating uni. I’ve been there before. I am a survivor of meningococcal disease and currently deal with fibromyalgia, chronic migraines, anaphylactic allergies, Multiple Chemical Sensitivity and chronic fatigue. My health issues make it difficult to navigate life, uni and work. Personally, I’ve found success working from home. I took a gap year to work between my bachelor’s and master’s and struggled to get my employer to accommodate my needs in the workplace. Here are some tips I have from real-life experience navigating work as a person with disability: 1. If you have difficulties with chronic pain, fluctuating energy levels, or other barriers to working in person, try to find a job that you can do remotely. More and more jobs allow employees to work from home, which might be the only modification you need. 2. Look out for jobs at companies that seem to be understanding of disability. Some job listings will specifically mention this. 3. Make sure once you’ve landed a job that you let your employer know what kind of accommodations you might need, whether it’s a fragrance-free workplace, a flexible work schedule, an ergonomic chair, special lighting, or something else specific to your needs. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. 4. Don’t give up. Even though it is illegal to discriminate, you may still face employers who hesitate to hire you or give you the accommodations you need. This isn’t a reflection of you, but of them. You deserve the resources you need and should never feel guilty or ashamed of that.
Have a question on the general topic of disability and chronic illness? Send an email to livingwell@ farragomagazine.com. You don’t have to be living with a disability to send a question—any questions about disability and health are welcome.
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BAGGY GREENS AND BLUE SUITS DAN CROWLEY ON WHY WE SHOULD NATIONALISE CRICKET AUSTRALIA
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he bourgeoisie has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation.” — Karl Marx, Communist Manifesto You might well need a Foxtel subscription to notice, but a spectre is haunting Australian cricket— the spectre of capitalism. Cricket, a once universally accessible national pastime, is now the plaything of “high performance managers”, big money corporate sponsors and empty managerial suits. Fans that watch on through baffling TV rights deals, scheduling decisions and team selections are confronted with a simple reality. The baggy green belongs not to us, but to them. The geographical heart of our game is no longer the beach, the backyard or even the turf cricket pitch, but wide-windowed, air-conditioned board rooms. Cricket in this country has been, to use Marx’s phrase, drowned in capitalism’s proverbial icy waters. Few fans would be able to pick Cricket Australia (CA) CEO Kevin Roberts out of a line-up of bluesuited, middle-aged white men, and fewer still board chairman Earl Eddings. Roberts’ first-class cricket career lasted just 23 games, and his previous tenure as CA chief operating officer oversaw the bitter pay dispute with the Australian Cricketers Association, and the “arrogant and controlling” corporate culture within which the infamous “sandpaper-gate” took place. Eddings is a former Victorian cricket administrator and the managing director of a financial risk management firm. For all the talk about transparency and accountability to the public, Cricket Australia’s administrative hierarchy is perfectly circular—administrator answers to administrator answer to administrator. Under the tight grip of mega-corporation Cricket Australia, our game has been turned into one big market. A corporation exists only to be profitable and sets its priorities accordingly; lengthening the Shield season, trimming down the Big Bash, and keeping all TV coverage free to air is best for the health of the game, but so long as it reduces the 36
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bottom line, Cricket Australia will continue to defy experts and pundits alike. As Marx argued, there is no room for sentiment or service in the cold waters of “egotistical calculation”, just “naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation”. There is, however, something even more fundamental at stake than season lengths and broadcast deals. In What Money Can’t Buy, Harvard philosophy professor Michael Sandel argues that, contrary to standard economic belief, markets are not morally neutral, but rather “express and promote certain attitudes to the goods being exchanged”. In short, a market does not just distribute a good, but reflects that good’s moral value; is it a commodity that can be bought or sold, or a public good to be preserved, cherished and shared? You don’t have to be a socialist, or even politically engaged, to believe that cricket belongs in the latter category, not the former. Cricket should not be the property of Cricket Australia, Kevin Roberts or any faceless blue suit. It belongs not to a subset of this country, but to the country as a whole. Nationalising Cricket Australia would be an easy and effective lifeline. A publicly owned board, voted annually by registered CA members, would oversee all aspects of the game—marketing, scheduling, team selection, ticket pricing and organisation of grassroots leagues. Membership, through a simple online registration, would be free. Australian cricket, like much of this country, prides itself on its egalitarian spirit, a rough and earthy reimagination of the English elite’s once exclusive pastime. Within underdog stories like Bradman’s, the kid from Cootamundra who perfected his craft with a stump and a golf-ball, we see aspects of not just ourselves, but our collective national identity. But until power in our national game is wrested away from vested monetary interests, our egalitarian project will remain incomplete. To reappropriate one final Marx quote, in reclaiming what is rightfully ours, the cricket proletariat have nothing to lose but our chains. Revolution beckons.
Content warning: biphobia
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KISS AND TELL A’BIDAH ZAID SHIRBEENI DOESN’T WANT A THREESOME
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t was a Monday afternoon. I was sitting in bed working (read: procrastinating) on an upcoming essay when the infamous “heyy” text lit up my screen. Here we go again, I thought to myself. That’s usually the case with modern dating, isn’t it? You match on Tinder, talk for a bit, inevitably lose interest and then never speak again. But sometimes, in times of raging hormones and desperation, you get that “heyy” or “you up?” text. They usually come through late at night, and the longer the “heyyyyyyy”, the more drunk their senders are. Not this time, though—this one came in at 2:40pm. “What’s up?” he asked. “Hey, nothing much. Just uni stuff, wbu?” I could’ve ignored his text but I was bored (and if I hadn’t replied, I wouldn’t be here telling you this story). We texted back and forth about university, his new apartment and his music. “So what brought you out of the shadows?” I asked. The last time we’d spoken had been a year ago and it hadn’t been a conversation exciting enough to remember. “It’s not what you think,” he said. “Oh, and what am I thinking?” “That I want to hook up? Well, I don’t.” I shrugged. We talked a little bit more about chocolates and my brand new hobby, pole dancing, until he responded by calling me Caramel. This was an alias, alluding to my skin colour, that my close friends had given me for potential stage performances. He, though , was not a friend. I told him I had an essay that required my attention, put my phone aside and began typing. Half an hour later, DING! “My girlfriend’s in the mood though. Do you want to have a threesome?” I screamed. Literally. I’d had a feeling this would be coming since he’d asked me if “Caramel” would share chocolates with his girlfriend. I’d thought it was a rather odd question but hadn’t cared enough to ask. I declined the offer. He asked again.
I told him that I was in a monogamous relationship and was not at all keen on “riding the tricycle”. And still he asked again. When I stopped replying, I received a message that read: “Lol I thought you were bi?” Now this was when I finally snapped. I took a deep breath, took screenshots for future reference, and argued with him more fervently than I did for the essay I was supposed to be writing. Was I seething with anger? Yes. I’d made a mistake letting it slide when he called me Caramel, with its objectifying and sexualised undertones, but I can only be nice once and boy, was I ready to bite back. Bisexuals have been stereotyped time and time again—we’re “confused”, “greedy”, and nothing more than “sexual creatures” who have an insatiable thirst when it comes to relationships. We’re also seen as sexual objects to be used for the enjoyment of those in hetero relationships. These stereotypes are not only frustrating for any bi person, but are also harmful to the bi community as they minimise the challenges we face on a dayto-day basis, such as a lack of visibility and multiple forms of oppression. Furthermore, they contribute to the biphobia that exists in the realm of dating, in both heterosexual and LGBTQ+ communities. So, ladies, gentlemen and non-binary folks, if there is anything that you should take away from this article and my experience, it’s this: JUST BECAUSE A PERSON IS BISEXUAL, DOES NOT MEAN THEY WANT TO GO DOWN ON BOTH YOU AND YOUR PARTNER. It’s a common misconception about bisexuals and it’s definitely one I do not appreciate. Many people think bisexuals are “down for anything”, and some even assume that queer women are performing for the male gaze. But let me tell you a little secret: our bisexuality is about ourselves, and not for anyone else’s enjoyment or benefit. Do some bisexuals enjoy threesomes? Heck yeah. You can bet on it. But we’ll let you know if we’re interested. ART BY CHARANJA THAVENDRAN /
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REGULATING LANGUAGE CONOR CLEMENTS ON HAITIAN KREYÒL AND LANGUAGE IN POST-COLONIAL STATES
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ne of the first problems that you must solve when setting up an education system—though it’s probably not something that an Australian would ever think about—is what language it will use. Ideally, it should be one spoken widely by students, which is why English is a good fit for classrooms in Australia, Japanese is a good fit for classrooms in Japan and so on. It might seem redundant to state this, but for some nations, this is one of the most fundamental issues to pervade the education sector. Obviously, there are countries that are home to enough languages that it’s not always easy to decide which one should be the primary medium for instruction. There are, however, more pernicious cases, where languages spoken by a fraction of the population are exclusively used in government education, which can perpetuate inequality for its students. The Caribbean nation of Haiti is an exemplary case of this. The linguistic legacy of Haiti can be traced back to its roots as a French sugarcane colony. As was the case with most colonies during the Atlantic slave trade’s height, farming was rarely done by European colonists, but by those forcibly taken from Western Africa. To oversimplify, the slaves revolted, inspired partly by the French Revolution, leaving Haiti as the first non-African country in the world governed by people of African descent. While France no longer directly controlled Haiti, its language remained entrenched in Haiti’s aristocracy. However, as descendants of former slaves, this was not the case for most Haitians, whose diverse linguistic backgrounds had coalesced to create an entirely new language: Kreyòl ayisyen— Haitian Creole. Kreyòl developed between the late 17th and early 18th centuries, combining much of the vocabulary of French with the grammar of Gbe languages such as Fon, Ewe and Anlo, which are today spoken in West Africa. Haiti’s enslaved people, who rarely shared a language, attempted to use French to speak with one another. Eventually, after 38
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a few generations of combining and changing, Haitian Creole was born. A new language, different to all of the languages it was created from, and from 1804, spoken by the people of the world’s first nation to abolish slavery. With this, Haiti is in a difficult situation: with one language spoken by only the most fortunate Haitians, and the other used by nearly all Haitians, but with such a strong stigma attached that French is still the preferred language in Haitian schools today. It was not until 1987 that Kreyòl was recognised as a national language. This has proven an impassable obstacle for countless Haitian children abandoned by their education system, which uses French almost exclusively. This is like expecting a French speaker to understand being taught in Latin, which was ironically enough tried in France (and much of Europe). It didn’t prove particularly successful. It’s easy to look at Haiti’s situation and assume it’s a product of a conservative government, but this cannot explain everything. Post-colonial countries are constantly reckoning with the legacies of their colonisers, and selecting a teaching medium is just one manifestation of many issues that set them back. The stigma against Kreyòl is so strong that many who don’t speak French still support its use in Haitian education, and Haiti’s elites only fuel this discrimination. Education is in many ways a tool to counter inequality. For Haiti to tackle the stigma towards Kreyòl and allow it to gain the cultural capital it needs to be seen as a legitimate form of language would simultaneously take further steps to improve the lives of all Haitians. To paraphrase New York Times columnists Michel DeGraff and Molly Ruggles, Kreyòl is the key to democratising knowledge in Haiti—it is a country that has come very far in very little time, but to progress further its people must be able to become active participants in the structures that have let them down for so long.
NONFICTION
DOUBLE TAKE KAAVYA JHA ON THE CORRUPTION OF MODERN DECISION-MAKING
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t’s the start of a new year. Returning students promise themselves that they’ll study earlier in the semester. Freshers undergo self-reinvention that inevitably boils down to an unflattering haircut. Despite intentions of becoming shiny new people, we slip up, unable to compete with our idealised selves. Eating habits never change and the iPhone’s screen time notification continues to shame us. Yet every decision is nestled in a complex web of psychological and economic rationales. Only when we start to untangle this, do we have a shot at being content with who we are and how we act. Recently, a Buzzfeed essay titled ‘How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation’ struck a chord among young people. It discussed the term “errand paralysis”—the feeling that small, daily grown-up responsibilities are too overwhelming to carry out. Decision fatigue is a theory suggesting our ability to make successful choices depletes after a long series of making decisions. The paradox of choice demonstrates that the more options we have to choose between, the less happy we are. Australia has unprecedented opportunities from the convenience and freedom that comes with technology. It’s important to recognise just how fortunate we are, but why do so many young people feel overwhelmed by everyday living? Older generations could argue that we are simply not mentally strong enough to handle the harshness of reality. Still, there are multi-billion-dollar industries that capitalise on temporary lapses in effective decision making and have more tools to do so than ever before. We’ve grown indifferent to tech giants farming personal information. Spotify billboard campaigns call out users with questionable music habits. Netflix uses viewing history to create personalised thumbnails to entice audiences. But at what point do we draw the line? Despite the massive fallout of Cambridge Analytica, nobody’s use of Facebook changed in my network. Young people have grown apathetic to being
denied data privacy and view it as an inevitable part of using the internet. Data is used to shape the way we shop, pay bills, and interact with family and friends. Without knowledge of what and how information about us is being used, we are vulnerable into being manipulated into choices we would not otherwise make. Businesses profit by convincing customers to make actions outside their best interests with techniques like neuropsychology-based marketing and using MRI scanners to see what advertisement provokes a subconscious emotional response. Phones with infinite feeds and auto-play eliminate any reason to put them down. Apps are a slot machine where every refresh means the chance at another round of instant gratification. Social media emphasises social approval and reciprocity (the need to return others’ digital gestures). Netflix welcomed 2019 with two wildly different shows: Marie Kondo’s Tidying Up and Bandersnatch. Kondo shows the transformative power of making decisions based on ‘sparking joy’. The latest instalment of Black Mirror allows the viewer to guide the plot through choices. In an odd form of escapism, these shows offer the chance to feel agency over one’s actions, after feeling overwhelmed and frustrated in real life. Motivational lifestyle blogs and YouTubers will suggest many solutions to take back control of your life. Simply become a hardcore minimalist in which the only possession you ever need to buy is their e-book! Live a life separated from technology: you can spend your newfound free time meditating using their app on your iPhone! (That was mean—I love you Headspace.) There is no easy answer. One must take a harsh look at the complex external and internal forces at play behind their every decision. It might be easier to blame big business, but long-term happiness will only come from a solid understanding of knowing not just ourselves, but also the objects and technologies that now play a significant role in our lives. Or maybe not. In the end, it’s your choice. ART BY RAYMOND WU /
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NONFICTION
MYTHOLOGIES IRIS SHUTTLEWORTH ON THE RISE OF THE COWBOY 1. The man in the broad-brimmed hat 2018 has been a good year for cowboys. They are no longer confined to your grandfather’s favourite Clint Eastwood films and the bitter dust of myth and history. The cowboy can be found on the catwalks of Milan and the bike paths of Brunswick. Where did all these cowboys come from? Where are these lonesome souls going? I don’t mean that my local barista has started rounding up cattle, or riding a horse to work, or killing the owners of the café next door and calling it manifest destiny. I only note an ironic revival of the lonesome genre hero. The Cut offers ‘24 ways to embrace the rise of Western Wear’. Cult favourite indie rock musician Mitski Miyawaki instructed her listener to “Be the Cowboy” with the title of her fifth studio album. Solange Knowles appeared in a studded cowboy hat. It is uniquely American, and so it feels universal, because Americans believe that they are the world, and self-conscious Australians tend to believe them. The myth of the cowboy is one soaked in blood. It would not be new to tell you that the iconic image both romanticises the stealing of native land and a kind of Randian individualism, a hopeless dedication to braving the wilderness on your own. I am interested in the tender instances of cowboy subversion. The cowboy is doomed to be part of a system while remaining perilously alone. Most contemporary cowboys are women. They are not cowgirls—which carries another connotation entirely (sexual freedom, blonde hair, a lone woman in an unswept Texan sports bar). Cowboys are distinctly less sexual (though not without their charms). They perform a lack of performance. They are stoic. I can see why this is appealing. It is hard to be a woman. Masculinity keeps the self trapped within the body, but the body wanders free. 2. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us There is something wonderfully camp about the cowboy. Susan Sontag writes, “Camp sees everything in quotation marks. It is not a lamp but a
‘lamp’.” Not a cowboy but a “cowboy”. It is a matter of tropes, repeated self-consciously, a reference to a reference. In 2018, to “be the cowboy” is to have what Sontag calls “good taste in bad taste”. Not a cowboy but a “cowboy”: Dick Hebdige as portrayed in I Love Dick, Django in Django Unchained, the star-crossed lovers of Brokeback Mountain, the Walmart yodelling kid, the sheriff emoji, Westworld. There’s nothing modern, cool nor new about the cowboy. It is not an aesthetic that can be reproduced without irony yet, there is a sense that on some level one takes the image seriously. Is this not the tension from which camp emerges? From the awareness that something is “too much” stems a tender and protective embrace of its “too much-ness”. 3. Lonesome love I loved a cowboy once. Not a real cattle rustler, or even a “cowboy” but I can’t help but remember him as such. This is the way memory works. The truth itself cannot hold, so stories are put in his place. I cannot quite remember his face but I remember his strange freedom, how lost he always seemed. I remember the gentle and indifferent isolation of someone who feels above the routine of the day utterly at the mercy of the world. First love is another camp experience. You recognise it is in poor taste but that doesn’t stop you from feeling it anyway. To quote Sontag again, it “finds the success in certain passionate failures”. The cowboy lives on because he is a relic of an irretrievable and irredeemable past. He is saved by camp, which rescues his form from his content. He is now a matter of appearance. You may find a local cowboy on a frameless mattress, still eating beans from the can. She poses on Instagram in a big red hat. She gets out of bed in the morning, and tries to find beauty and meaning in solitude. 2018 was the year of the cowboy. This means they will be forgotten again, and their image will be demoted from a good taste in bad taste to just plain bad taste. I’ll miss the cowboy when he goes. The trend will stroll out into the desert, utterly alone again.
ART BY FREYA MCLEOD /
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Content warning: death
GRIEVING FOR AN ACQUAINTANCE MADDY RUSKIN ASKS HOW TO GRIEVE FOR SOMEONE YOU BARELY KNEW
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wasn’t close to Lucy*. We were regular performers in an annual low-budget student theatre show. A rag-tag collation of short plays, performance art and poetry readings. Lucy and I didn’t talk very much. She was quiet and pensive, whereas I managed my shyness by rambling about nothing in particular at a hundred miles an hour. We weren’t best friends, but we were more than acquaintances. I liked her company, her sharp sense of humour and her thoughtfulness. She was never afraid to be herself, pure electric on stage and soft-spoken empathy off stage. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be her, befriend her or watch her light up the theatre. I’ll never know now. We shared many moments squeezed backstage in the wings with our elbows banging against one another, united in nerves and exhilaration. Or celebrating at post-show drinks in a scruffy bar, high off the applause and drunk on cheap cider. It was a comforting ritual enjoyed for the past three years and I assumed it would go on forever. But it can’t happen anymore. Lucy died a few months ago. No one could have seen it coming. It was devastating, shocking and sudden. Most of the time, I don’t know what I’m feeling or how I’m supposed to feel. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to feel. All I know is, I feel. But I wasn’t friends with Lucy. Technically, I was an acquaintance, a thread that wove in and out of her life as she did in mine. Every life is an intricate web of relationship threads and without them, people would not exist outside of their own consciousness. Some threads are strong while others lace in and out, unravelling and tightening over time. Relationships can typically fit into three categories, friends, family and co-workers. Any relationship outside of that and it becomes harder to explain. From school playmate, classmate, friends with benefits, local bartender, gym instructor, waiter who always remembers your
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order, ex-partners, the cheeky flirtation, slightly closer than acquaintances but not quite friends. Everyone has these loosely threaded connections. How are you supposed to feel when someone who you weren’t close with dies? Do you have the right to mourn? Suddenly you’re stuck, frightened to show too much, frightened to show too little. There’s no brochure or pamphlet for how you’re supposed to and allowed to feel, especially, if you weren’t that close. Our society finds it hard to tolerate grief. It’s alright for an afternoon, acceptable for a week, but any longer and you’d better keep it behind a firmly closed door. If you weren’t ‘really close’ to the person: take a moment, acknowledge it and move on. Grief isn’t an easy topic to discuss. It reminds us of our own mortality and with that, brings a lot of baggage. The less we talk about grief and death, the more power it holds over us. We can’t ignore a fundamental part of the human experience. We can’t expect to be mentally sound if we block out death until it happens to someone close to us. I can’t simply move on. I can’t stop thinking of Lucy. I keep trying to come to terms with the fact that we will never share a smile or a drink again. I don’t know how to stop my heart shuddering, stomach churning every time I remember that I won’t see her again. I have been locked in an unending battle with my emotions. The confused and dismissive reactions of family and friends have made me question whether I’m allowed to grieve for Lucy. Do I have a right to feel so bereft? Am I so self-absorbed that I’m drowning myself in the tragedy of a young woman who I barely knew? I don’t have answers to any of my questions. I haven’t stopped second-guessing my feelings; I’m still as lost as before. All I know is that emotions are strength, not weakness. All I know is that I think about Lucy every day. But we weren’t even really friends. *Her name has been changed to protect privacy.
ART BY YUSHI WU /
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Content warning for ‘Fibre and Protein’: cannibalism
CREATIVE
FLASH FICTION PROMPT: BREAKFAST TELEVISION BREAK BY JEMMA PAYNE
“What were you doing, when you heard?” But me? It’s my voice immortalised & the tearoom telly always on /a waiting room /a shirt with a little hole that’s snagged on the iron The autocue tells me BRAKING (I read it Bra King first) & you need a coffee /sorry the doctor’s running late /time to toss this shirt? (crawl across my chest...DOWN FROM SIX GAMES TO FOUR, FOLLOWING REVIEW…) The coffee machine /the receptionist /the iron draws a breath. The lens squints expectant. I think of the pattern on your ironing board. “We’re just receiving reports...”
FIBRE AND PROTEIN BY KAIA COSTANZA “Get plenty of fibre and protein - best foot forward. Our donation boxes accept all high quality feet. Change someone’s life.” The jingle plays. You eat your oatmeal with corn flakes on toast and sip your Weet-Bix. High in Fibre, says the corn flakes package. The flakes relax you. On occasion they instil domatophobia; “get plenty of protein,” your walls hear when you—having left something important in the dining room—leave the TV on. Each pack comes with cheap toy sunglasses. Your feet have grown back again, ready for donation. Phalanges squelch. You peel them off, hoping the protein is enough.
on average BY NATALIE FONG CHUN MIN draw the light-cancelling blinds but only enough to allow light to wash its face, brush its teeth, then let it go back to sleep, as you flick the telly on to drain the room of its silent sorority, between channels, the clink of cereal and spoon, milk and goo, indistinct presence of someone’s rhythm, someone’s tandem, not necessarily words but mistaken attention, you trivialise time, volunteer it as service charge to electronic deities, for temporary amnesiac bliss. you wipe your mouth, in a preoccupied, philosophical way, and with it, your entire palate and your plans for the day. REMEMBER, REMEMBER BY VANESSA LEE Remember, remember a softer time, watching dancing hues weave tales together, promising us the world with the press of a button? Light and lilting, childlike and sweet, like the milk and honey my father swirled together for me. The harsh clang of spoon against bowl, the scent of hot raspberry jam, the blonde in mother’s hair in the sunlight; our old morning noise. A flash of light, the screen blinks. The box speaks in a cacophony of voices, droning on with the morning news. Hell, I’m still riding the tail end of that sweet dream. ART BY BETHANY CHERRY /
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Content warning: domestic abuse Sarah plays on the association of colours and words to write her poetry using Taubman’s paint samples from Bunnings.
CROSSFIRE BY SARAH PETERS When you first drew lipstick in circles around my neck tethered to a ribbon you fingered at fifteen waiting to burn up like chillies on my tongue, You called it ‘love’. Patches of strawberry smashed under my eye after we rained. I wish I’d been mixing blood into your alcohol. Just so you could taste ‘our love’. Pain that still lingers like pomegranate kisses. Spilling blood and purpura into nipples squeezed until there was nothing but you saying ‘We should die’. I wish I bled for you. Into a bouquet you’re supposed to give someone not caught between love and abuse, uncoloured and still misunderstood.
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Content warning: ill family member
CREATIVE
PEACHES BY ELIZABETH SEYCHELL
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ext to the congealed broth and pallid sandwiches, those fluorescent peaches look sickly. The sliced chunks float ominously in radioactive syrup. They remind me of the liquids by your bedside, the chemicals coursing through your veins. You haven’t bothered peeling the cup lid. Your limbs are now fastened to the side of your bed, held hostage by the weight of your gown. I stare at the glowing cup. It wasn’t always like this. Those limbs used to lift me high into the treetops of your orchard. You’d prop me up, arms strengthened by years of labour, while I searched among the greenery. I’d giggle with fear and excitement as you’d pretend to drop me. You’d always catch me, though. Always kiss me on the nose as fruit tumbled to the ground. Back then you were unshakable. Invincible. The veins poke through your skin as the nurse comes round to change your fluids. She pulls up the left sleeve of your gown. She could easily fit her hands around your whole upper arm and bruise you removing the tubes with her delicate fingers. The black splotches from last week’s nurse are now yellowing. You nod towards your untouched tray. “Here, have, Bec…” “Oh, I’m fine, Nannu. You should really eat. Here, try to have these at least.” The peaches from your orchard always blistered with natural juice. You’d sit with me in the kitchen after we went picking, cutting off the fuzzy skin. The inside flesh always the most glorious yellow, bleeding orange and crimson towards the pip. You shake your head. The phosphorescence repels you. You’ve realised by now that nothing really cuts through that perpetual tinny taste. There’s no flavour other than lead, no smell besides sterilisation. You don’t even notice how the peaches’ artificial scent permeates the room. You could always smell Nanna’s peaches on the stove, stewing in sugar and cinnamon. She’d be stirring them for hours, the summer breeze wafting the scent of spices through the house.
She never served them without a generous dollop of fresh cream. You’d gulp down seconds before she’d playfully tell you you’d had enough. And you’d look at the last few spoonfuls left in my bowl, and steal one right in front of her. There was always the moment where you and Nanna would look dead in the eye at one another. It always ended in an outbreak of giggles. And her spooning up thirds. She stopped bringing you food a few months back when she realised you couldn’t taste it, let alone hold it down. You stare at the tub of congealed fruit and feel nauseous. I try to think of something to say to loosen the invisible strings tightening around my throat. But the monitor suddenly beeps. The instant scuttle shatters the silence. “I think we might just need another nurse or two in here. Sorry, Miss, it’ll get a little crowded—” The nurse’s words are my cue to leave. I kiss you on the cheek, your chapped skin rough against my lips. Two more nurses enter the room, clamouring around you as your eyelids flutter closed. You’re tired, they say. The treatment was always going to be the worst part. I hurry out of the ward, choking on the chemical air. The scent of those syrupy peaches clings to my skin. It burns my nostrils, poisoning my insides even after I’ve left the room. I pass the markets on my way home. There’s a man packing a crate of bruised peaches into his boot. Their skin is stained with black smudges, furry coats sliced and bleeding. I notice one that’s fallen to the ground. Withered and weeping. Even the most succulent peaches on your orchard would sometimes end up like that, shrivelling up. You drift into consciousness later that night. You’re startled. You haven’t been able to smell anything for months, yet this scent is heavenly. It’s the scent of stewed peaches, radiating through your house in the gentle, summer breeze. Your skin feels warm, your bones don’t ache. For the first time in too long, you’re alert. You’re here.
ART BY LIZZY YU /
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WASHINâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; YA DISHES BY HAMISH LITT scrub scrub scrub scrub scrub everywhere steam dizzies damp bread bits spinning in spillover currents squelching feet so soggy fingers fry shelving hot clanging pans from conveyor belt sprays chemical concoction jszcschhhhhhh makes sticky tees smell like wet pork carcass fat creeping up arms unplugging scrappy sink waste arrestor not stopping sloppy plates nor wrinkled noses at kitchen hands working at wasting meals created before this cycle
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CREATIVE
I’M READY FOR THE ACID TO WEAR OFF NOW BY FINBAR MACDONALD It’s out west at 3AM I’m a bathtub against a concrete wall flushed of oil and rainbow-slick a crumbling ornament too foul to be inside and He, increasingly resembling my father, says Take the valley Ride the river Enter the crowd His big eyes pulsing light, feeling less of himself
Find your friends.
But I’m out of valleys there is no water the crowd’s a flesh whirl strangers like friends and friends like strangers so I’m stuck throwing dead fish words in the corner as a toddler look lost mine please hard Look, He says, Stick your hand in your head twist the oyster-grey tubes. Feel their pulse. Still nothing? We’ve been through this Twice tonight. No matter how hard I twist I can’t grasp it He falls out my head saying You’ll be fine. This is all temporary. So I drank warm beer and waited for the sun to rise
ART BY FREYA MCLEOD /
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MOSS BY JAMISYN GLEESON 1.
Is sponge-like, encouraging soapy suds, moisture to develop in its hide. You pull at its hair and come away empty handed.
2.
Why do you grasp this crumpled collection of tulle with such force? Your skin is stained with emerald life you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t quite possess.
3.
An eager tug makes you slip and wait for the wicked crack of splintered bone. Moss softens the blow, though, with a blanket knit by its bruised fingers.
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hops are being forced to recall all spindles by royal decree. All spindles or anything sharp resembling a spindle must be voluntarily surrendered by the end of this month in time for Princess Briar Rose’s sixteenth birthday celebrations. All those who comply will be refunded in full. Anyone who disobeys this direct order and is found to have a spindle in their possession by month’s end will have it confiscated and a fine of five gold pieces* imposed. Regardless of who owns it, if it is in your possession at the time of inspection, you will be found at fault. Multiple spindles will only implicate you further. Depending on the severity of the offence, you may be questioned, tortured for information on the whereabouts of other spindles and thrown into the stocks. A conviction will result in indefinite imprisonment. The nature of the spindles defect is classified but the royals insists that it impacts the royal family’s, and hence, the kingdom’s safety. *One gold piece is almost equivalent to $400 AUD with the total amount exceeding $1500.
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fter revelations that corruption had rotted the foundations of the once trusted and prestigious factory, the Golden Goose has officially filed for bankruptcy, meaning that their lucrative assets have run dry. Suspicions remain over the whereabouts of its namesake, the goose that laid the golden egg. There are rumours circulating about its recent and rather mysterious disappearance. Tip offs that we have received cite tax evasion and tax havens as to its possible location.
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redited with the advancement in Artificial Intelligence with the newest Pinocchio model sculpted to look like “a real boy”.
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n old woman has been hospitalised after being found with severe burns on her body, and two young children are being charged with her assault. The old woman claims that the children held her hostage in her own home after she offered to take them in from the cold night, demanding that she give them dessert. If she didn’t comply she would receive death threats from them. A witness in the woods heard lots of screaming coming from the house before bravely running towards the scene. “It was awful.” The witness said, “She had been tipped into the oven and was moaning that ‘It burns!’” The witness was perplexed over how two young children could have pushed an adult into the oven, let alone why they would do so. The children’s lawyer has responded by stating that the hallucinogenic mushrooms that grow wild in the woods are to blame for the children’s behaviour. “There was nothing else to eat in the woods when the children were cast from their home. They foraged for food but didn’t realise that the hallucinogenic mushrooms looked slightly different to edible mushrooms. They had never been out of home to fend for themselves before. They thought that the old woman was a witch and her house made from sweets. You’ve got to understand that they were starving at the time. These are extremely young children who are very traumatised by these events and very remorseful.” The children will both be tested for traces of these alleged mushrooms by doctors to see if it will support their claims. The old woman blames the emerging youth culture of entitlement and disrespect to elders. She also places the responsibility on the children’s absent parents. Unfortunately, a search to track down the children’s parents has been futile. “They are too ashamed to come out of hiding. Scared and ashamed of the consequences,” the old woman says.
ART AND LAYOUT BY TIFFANY WIDJAJA
ART BY SOMEONEBY SOMEONE ALISON FORD/ / 51
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Content warning: suicide
HOW TO STAND STILL BY CARLY STONE
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nd she is still there in the morning, freshly showered, standing in the doorway with hot wet skin: a hard-boiled lover. Alice watches her from bed. She’s still tangled up in linen, soft and bitter with sleep. Mikah closes the door and sits down beside her. Did you dream about it? Mikah asks. Alice kneads at her eye with a knuckle, smudges the residue of her dreamscape. A train, my boss, a drowning sensation. She responds, No. I haven’t even thought about it. It’s true. When Mikah told Alice that Pete was dead, Alice didn’t feel the need to ask questions. It was like this: yesterday, I could call Pete and expect him to pick up. Today, I can’t. Mikah winds her fingers through Alice’s hair and says, I don’t know how you do that. What? You pretend that there’s nothing going on, she says. I don’t know how you do it. Alice rolls over and mumbles, I’m not trying to pretend that he’s still alive or anything. I just think we’re allowed to talk about other things. Then she half-wriggles out of bed and tugs at the curtain. The sun quivers in the sheets and burrows into her pupils, making doubles and triples of everything she can see. Three bookshelves, two neat bundles of blouses, twin Mikahs gazing through the window, staring at a hundred different versions of the same orange day. I love you, says Alice. Mikah smiles absently. You too, she replies. Mikah kneels into the bed and kisses her, toughlipped and absentminded. Mikah smells like soap and shampoo and shower-water, like somebody who has just spent thirty minutes scrubbing herself clean. Alice moves the sheet around her left leg and tugs her closer.
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She feels her way down Mikah’s crooked spine. Mikah touches Alice’s hip bone and tastes the caustic sting of her mouth. Then she wriggles back and makes a rule. No, she says. We shouldn’t do this. Not now. That’s what you do when your friend commits suicide, Alice thinks. You make rules. This morning, they aren’t allowed to enjoy things. You should go see how Oliver’s doing, Mikah suggests. Alice tries to make up a reason not to go, but words harden like calluses on the underside of her tongue. So she nods silently, gets up and gets dressed and heads out the door. She walks down the street, past the sunbleached ice cream shop, past a motorcycle seething quietly at a red light. The clouds are inflamed by sunrise, but the street-lamps are still on, pressing their sharp light into the damp stench of the pavement, making ghosts of the pedestrians that pass beneath them. Her brother’s sitting on his front porch with a dead rat in his hands. She looks at him and his red nose and his mad eyes. He looks at her and her white knuckles. He thinks: ghost. Then he jogs the rat in his hands like he’s looking for the right way to hold it. He says, I found it in the backyard. You’re fucking kidding me, says Alice. It was on Pete’s chair, too. Alice looks up at the sky, where a storm-bruised cumulus is tightening around the curve of the horizon. A hot air weighs itself against her body, and she feels an eversoslight tug of deja-vu, as though they’ve been there before. But Alice and Oliver have never been here before. Do you want me to get rid of it? Alice asks.
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No, I need to do this myself. And so Alice stands by the patch to watch him dig the hole. The rat makes a thud as it hits the dirt. Oliver pats the ground with the back of his shovel, then pours the last drops of a watering can over the dirt as a kindofjoke, but neither of them laugh. Instead, they instinctively clasp their hands over their groins, in mourners’ poses. Out of ironic respect, Oliver closes his eyes. At midday, they’ve run out of things to talk about, so Alice calls Mikah and tells her meet them at the fish and chip place. The shop is white and sparse and needs another window. On the display counter, mayflies kill themselves against a neon sign. A thin skin of dust is superimposed on the walls, leaving a white rectangle by the fish tank where a painting should be. The door goes bzzt when Mikah walks through it. Alice goes to kiss her but decides not to. Mikah sits down across from her and goes to ask how Oliver’s doing but decides not to. She points to the tank behind him instead. Isn’t it macabre, she says. I reckon it’s appropriate, says Oliver. We should be aware of what we’re eating. We know they’re going to die, she replies. And we’re just watching them swim around in circles. I know you’re gonna die one day. Does that make me macabre? Mikah realises she should do something with her face. She grins. The twins start talking about going vego or vegan or something, they’re giggling and nudging feet under the table. Mikah watches them, feeling like an outlander to a mesh of tangled genes and emotions. She imagines that Oliver and Alice, after seventeen years of practice, know exactly how to unpick one another’s grief. She imagines that they’re keeping things lighthearted for her sake. The manager of the store comes around to take their order. He’s a shiny-headed polo-shirt wearer who’d taken Pete and Oliver to be best friends. After they broke up, he’d ask, Where’s yer mate? He’s off travelling, Oliver would reply.
The routine is the same today, but Oliver doesn’t look up to make eye contact. Mikah’d always had the feeling that the owner secretly knew that Oliver and Pete were in love and now they aren’t. She had the feeling that Oliver knew that he knew, too, and that the routine was all just an elaborate pantomime that they acted out to keep everybody else comfortable. But Mikah had a lot of feelings about a lot of different things. After the owner comes back with a hot stack of chip packages, they take them down to the beach. They take off their shirts and shoes and stretch out like drum-skins on the hot sand. Mikah rolls over with a chip in her mouth and looks at Oliver. Did you dream about it? she asks. Oliver feels a pang of guilt. Nah, he says. I don’t think I dreamt about anything. They go quiet. Oliver worries that his guilt is somehow palpable. So he says: I have been thinking about him a bit. Alice lifts up the chip packet and peers into it. She asks, Do you regret any of it? The break-up? Oliver swallows a bit of calamari. Pang pang pang. I regret all of it, he says. He rolls around on his stomach and stares out at the beach. The sand stings with memory. He can see Pete running it through his fingers, shaking it out of his hair, washing his feet of it. He presses his fingers into the damp grain and thinks about dead biomatter being ground up by the wind and scattered across beaches. He thinks about Pete’s dad standing in Royal Park and throwing his ashes at the native grasses. He thinks about Pete turning the gas switch and falling on the ground and dryhumping the kitchen tiles. And then he thinks about Pete the last time he saw him, alive and throbbing with resentment, when they hated one another so wholly that it was all kind of boring. Heat rises in his throat. It’s fucked to think about Pete now, he says. Anything we imagine him doing is like a fantasy. Because it can’t happen. It’s like he’s magic, Mikah says. ART BY ALEXANDRA BURNS /
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CREATIVE Mikah thinks about Pete on the beach, Pete in the front garden, Pete on the train. All of it magical, more magical, now that he isn’t here. She feels the heat of her thought press into the backs of her eyes. She announces, I’m gonna go climb up the rock, then grabs a fistful of chips and scuttles off. Alice watches her running and growing distant. Look at her go, she says to Oliver. She’s imagining that Mikah isn’t far away at all— she’s just very, very small, like a little sea creature exploring a rock pool, too tiny to contest the surface tension of the sky above her. Are you gonna go after her? Oliver asks. Then he rolls onto his back and props his cap over his eyes. She lies on his chest. Here, she can hear the thump of his ribcage, pounding faster and faster. She pictures the chambers of his heart gasping and clenching, gasping and clenching. Then she hears his breathing go rough. He begins to cry. It doesn’t feel like a mourning cry. The sound has sharp corners. Oliver had loved Pete and then had hated Pete and now he hated him still. She keeps
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her head on his chest, as though to pin him down, as though the weight of her mind can hold the parts of him together. He shimmies himself out from under her and says: Fuck it. Let’s go after Mikah. We should go after Mikah. He clambers up and smudges his eyes and runs to the rock. Alice follows him. When she gets to the first little rock pool, she looks at the deep stream frothing between the sand and the cliff. She hesitates. Hop up onto this one, Mikah yells from above, gesturing to a slick wall of stone. She lets Mikah’s voice honey her limbs, then leans over the gap and grabs the stone. She wriggles up, eeeurgh, and sits down next to Mikah on a tough chunk of dry seaweed. Mikah leans her head on Alice’s shoulder. Her skin is marbled by sand and water and prickles on her cheek. She says, Do you remember the last time we were all here together? When you told Pete to put on sunscreen and he called you a fucking bitch? Oliver laughs. He closes his eyes and tips his head back into a technicolour memory. He remembers standing upright on this rock with Pete’s hands massaging tanning oil into his neck. He imagines Pete’s fingers pressing into the soft soap of his head, digging into the meat of his mind, stretching out of his mouth in long and greedy sentences. He asks, Do you remember the first time we all got high up here? And so they sit and talk about the summer of 2015, when everybody was turning sixteen and hedonism was in, and so was drinking spirits and smoking herbs and snorting lines, the last of which Mikah had no firsthand knowledge, but pretended otherwise. They talk about Pete and all his favourite powders: bleach and blush and ket and crack and cumin. After a few hours, they stop talking. They watch sun slip into the ocean, draining the blue from the sky. Colour sediments and turns dark on the horizon. It’s getting late, says Mikah. I should head, says Oliver. Alice watches them scuttle down the rocks, bravely grappling the dark oily surface and leaping over the stream. From under the rock, she hears Oliver yell: Alice, come on. It’s gonna get dark soon. Alice slips tentatively across the surface. She watches the water frothing between her and the sand. She looks up at Mikah. She says, I’m nervous. Mikah says, Maybe you can take off your shoes and walk through it. I don’t want to get my feet all wet and sandy, says Alice. Just jump, says Oliver. Don’t think about it, says Mikah. But Alice is thinking. Her thoughts are calcified and literal. They’re seeping out from her brain and stiffening on her skin. Grab my hand, says Mikah. Just jump! says Oliver. Jump!
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YOU ARE SAFE HERE BY CHIARA SITUMORANG Close your eyes. You are surrounded by a shield of light. You reach out and it curves under your fingers, it hums softly where you touch it, welcoming you into its warm embrace. The many conversations buzzing in your ears have dimmed into a pleasant murmur. You f l o a t; the chair against your back disappears. You feel magic around the corner instead, the dryadâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s song guiding you through a maze of gentle oaks. You smell the blooming of blossoms, gold streaks sparking off white petals; it is the smell of new life, of impossible bliss. You turn to touch the flaming light of fireflies. You are drawn deeper into the unfamiliar, but you feel only warmth, you see only wonder. You smell the dewdrops glimmering outside your window in the morning. You lean back, shoulders dropped. You feel warm, like the sun has accepted you as one of its own. You smile. Open your eyes. You are safe here.
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A THING WITH FEATHERS BY JOCELYN DEANE 1.
“M
r Higginson, Are you too deeply occupied to say if my Verse is alive? The Mind is so near itself—it cannot see, distinctly—and I have none to ask— Should you think it breathed—and had you the leisure to tell me, I should feel quick gratitude— If I make the mistake—that you dared to tell me—would give me sincerer honor—toward you— I enclose my name—asking you, if you please— Sir—to tell me what is true? That you will not betray me—it is needless to ask —since Honor is its own pawn—” Letter from Emily Dickinson to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, April 1862 So. Emily Dickinson died in Amherst Massachusetts, 1886, in the same house she was born. The physician attending her had diagnosed Bright’s disease, inflammation of the kidneys and accompanying cardio-problems, as the cause of death. She had instructed her sister, Lavinia, to burn their correspondence. At her funeral Thomas Higginson—the critic/ radical abolitionist with whom Dickinson had ambivalently shared her poetry—read Emily Brontë’s ‘No coward soul is mine’. When Emily’s sister Charlotte discovered the poetry and insisted on publication to support their increasingly destitute family, she was horrified but acquiesced. They appeared with Charlotte and Anne’s work under masculine pseudonyms: Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell, in accordance with the letters of their first names. Only two copies were sold. Anne and Emily, as children, created a shared imaginary world called Gondal. During their lives, and at different ages, they created several such games/worlds. First, the Glasstown confederacy, their older siblings joining in: island nations, like Yorkshire, derived from a box of tin-soldiers given to their brother, named after British luminaries like Wellington, the explorer William Parry and Arctic navigator John Ross. Each capital was called Glasstown. Charlotte describes, 56
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“Mine was the prettiest of the whole & perfect in every part. Emily’s was a Grave looking fellow we called him Gravey. Anne’s was a queer little thing very much like herself. [H]e was called Waiting Boy”… This later became “Angria”, a world/game in which the Duke of Wellington and his large sons were heroes. Anne and Emily—as the youngest— were often given subordinate roles. They staged a rebellion, and christened the world of Gondal, for the two of them. Eventually, their games—like people in ancient myth—transformed into prose, poetry and diary entries, and have been called early examples of speculative fiction, coded auto/biography and Real Person fan fics. The prose is lost, but poems from Gondal survive. Apparently, but it’s not sure in any case, Anne and Emily played Gondal to the ends of their lives. 2. We pause, listening politely to them finish, waiting for Dominos and soft drink. We offer our pronouns, however many. We talk about gender assignation and our characters. On the table is a mess of D&D sheets and prismatic, n-sided dice, glittering higher-dimensions of geometry. This is the pre-session, we agreed, in that no game-play happens. We simply describe our characters and the Dungeon Master, after outlining the fictional multiverse of the campaign/story, will help us map how they relate to one another, which is a hassle for Emily Dickinson, who is present, waiting for introduction. The DM ssshhhes, lowers the lights, cinematically but subtly, as if slightly embarrassed: So. The premise is there are three planar components to the multiverse. The inner planes are the houses of elementals: dimensions of the spirits, and energies that set the universe going like a fat gold watch. There are dimensions here for the elements, for matter and antimatter, and however many smaller planes for all the forces that roll through the cosmos. The outer planes, by contrast, are governed by conscious thought and belief, organised by alignment—imagine Good and Evil, Law and Chaos on x/y axis—into a Great Wheel, like a flat earth
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resting on a turtle. The Outlands, the wastes of true neutrality, sit at the centre, with all the other refractions of the outer planes—the lawful good Mt Celestia, the chaotic evil Abyss, the neutral evil Hades, etc.—radiating from it like individual spokes, or beams of light. Have you read The Dark Tower, by Stephen King? It’s like that, without cowboys. In the centre of the Outlands—residing at every point in space, the circumference of which is nowhere—is an infinite mountain, above which hovers a torus. On its interior side is Sigil (pronounced “Siggle”), the city of doors and nexus of the planes. I haven’t seen the ending of Interstellar, but apparently it employs an nth-dimensional quantum realm that transcends space and time, and Sigil is like that. It bridges the material and immaterial planes, the real and unreal. Presiding over it is the Lady of Pain, a god-like figure who has outlawed the worship of gods. The outer planes are strewn with the corpses of gods skewered with needles and blades like the ones that form her crown. Every plane and world is linked to Sigil: there is a door from which you could go from a highfantasy, Lord of the Rings allegory to a sci-fi future to a world where the Glasstown confederacy, Angria and Gondal all exist in physical space, in the same way England exists, or Emily Bronte’s poetry does, or the colour red. The last is prime material plane aka the real world. We can safely ignore it for the time being, except that we are sitting there currently, drinking Monster energy drinks for spoons, discussing our D&D characters. 3. Andi (she/her) is a druid whose mums run a local tavern and who taught her to supervise the natural order and defend it from imbalance, even in Sigil, a steampunk nightmare. Drimlock (he/him) is a dwarven bard and soft-boy guitarist, the kind that plays ‘Yellow’ on Swanston Street, on the Chinatown entrance in the style of Passenger and Ed Sheeran, in sincere, recurrent pronouns. He performs in Andi’s mum’s tavern and hates a fantasy band called The Smiths, led by a fantasy person called
Morrissey. Kazimir (they/them) is an arrakocra—a bird person, if angels had bird features as well as wings—assassin who drinks to forget at Andi’s mum’s tavern and is Drimlock’s long suffering roommate, alongside 12 roosters, who between them have emptied their tenement. This is a running gag. We decide Emily Dickinson, the bard (she/her), arrives in Sigil at the Slags—imagine the Texassized heap of garbage in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, or the burning tyre piles in America that never go out. We discuss how she came to be there. Did she fall asleep in Amherst one day and come to in a literal hell-scape? It could be an astral projection of hers, she could be dead or dying, did she find a portal to Sigil from our world? Is this Emily Dickinson from our world, or an adjacent one, of minute changes? Or a resident of the Slags who—for whatever reason—passes out one day and awakens with the memories and writings of Emily Dickinson from Earth lodged in their brain? Are they recognisably who we’d point to and say “Emily Dickinson”? They may not even be human. We wonder how long it would take Emily Dickinson to acclimatise to Sigil. What happens that Emily Dickinson becomes a D&D character? Someone at the table mentions Gondal in passing, and the idea of coded biography, through the medium of Shatter —a spell dealing 3d8 thunder damage— imagined worlds and charisma modifiers. So. We give her a minimum of two weeks, in a shelter for denizens of the Hive—Sigil’s slums— without housing. She makes a friend named Veronique and is discharged, found by Andi’s mum and passed on to Rosa, of the Black Rose Anarchist bookstore, which we name together. She writes poetry and violent agitprop for a faction called “The revolutionary league” as well as journalism for a New York Times style newspaper. Even if she didn’t think she were dreaming, the only frame of reference she’d have is literature, fantasy or no. She goes on a date with Veronique and runs into everyone at Andi’s Mums’ bar. This is where we break for pizza.
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I’M A POORLY-RATED SITCOM DOCTOR AND I STILL LOVE YOU BY TIIA KELLY I keep forgetting to donate the coat in my car boot The black one with button-lined breasts that I never wore, not even once If I could tell previous me anything I’d say: Do not buy the coat! It is a bad, woollen dream! You are anticipating a future, coat-wearing you! She does not exist! Buy an anorak! It’s the middle of whenever, which means I’ll scratch my neck into a blush I drop a mint in my bag and in that spot, I still love you I try not to think about microwave meals on couches, chip packets licking leaves in the gutter A stranger on the train says to Keep the dream alive! and it’s code for: interminably this hillside still loves you In another life I am a malpracticing physician Rotten under pressure, my training was for naught It’s a comedy! People die! The parents weep for my jilted law practice but I meet you You have a concussion and we bond over bad weather and I love you and the narrative arc is tolerable It’s anorak season and my fists are half-formed A scarf unravels and the cold clicks its heels, with my tall sitcom teeth I still love you
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MAKE WAY BY NATALIE FONG CHUN MIN coloured lights police the flow of humanity, defiant amidst the morning crowd, people aching for a place to put their shouldered worlds down. while they sandwich their hearts between convenience store wrappers and spare change, they figure their shoe horn could be used in more ways than one: to poke and tease the new year out of the Jenga that is both history and existence. will time be different this year? will time paint us faceless, careless, past-perfect, will time be appeased by our resolutions? will there be time to custom-make our age, brand it with our initials and tie them tight around our necks? after all, people have to know who to give up their seats for, who to slow down for. we’re trying our best not to take that seat. the green man is not enough to signal make way for the pedestrians people only begrudge the red man for his insistence that we wait— colour’s not supposed to get in the way, but we’ve been through this, you’re not still mad about it, are you? as they walk and talk and fault their boots, and walk and gawk at the pigeon-ed routes, and walk and muse that birds have more than just legs and of course we’re not jealous, are we? after all, weather subjects us to its temper; thunder sweeps us all undercover, wings or not, we choose where we’re comfortable: ignoring a storm or two, while others march through unfazed, determined to bleach the yellow sun when it comes out of hiding. do we make way for them?
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CASINO DOWNS BY LUKE ROTELLA
FADE IN. EXT. Bridge Underside, Casino Downs. Night. A slender, green-tinted arm extends, casting a shadow over the amalgamated skyscrapers below. Its long, feeble fingers slowly wrap around the southern bridge as it tries to rip the rest of itself out of the black mirror on the side of the old casino. The void spits out a head encased in a blue bob and a body with armour hugging its figure so tight that a single wrong movement could crush its bones. Its eyelids slowly rise revealing a hollow, red circle with a slight glimmer and its mouth parts. REI AYANAMI (In a demonically deep and wavering tone) You don’t want to be by yourself, correct? Please, find me at your local Quickstop. I only cost 50 rupees. It closes its mouth and winks towards the open skyline, then recedes back into the wall like the bird of a cuckoo clock being drawn back into its cage. The woman remains behind the black mirror for four seconds before re-emerging and reaching out towards the bridge once again. Doc is entranced by the seductiveness of the woman’s movement and his eyes lock on her fingers as they snake around the underside of the bridge. His pupils dilate. Saliva begins to drip from the corners of his mouth down onto his thick, grey beard and settle into the wrinkles hidden behind it. A swift crack breaks the trance and Doc jumps to his feet and darts his head left to right. The crack echoes and bounces through the empty streets causing shrieks and screams amongst the underlings as they trample and claw each other desperately trying to reach the nearest manhole. Amongst the chaos, Doc looks through the woman’s transparent figure as a bullet buries a hollow tunnel straight through her chest and clips the tail of a whirlybird. His left eye twitches as the aircraft flails through the sky distorting the image of the woman. DOC Boss! We got one mate. Fuckers down! Skeggs and the boys look up in unison. They stuff their gear into their satchels and run towards Doc. Mac is looking down at his feet, shifting a foot from side to side in a little artificial crevasse in the rubble. He squints his eyes and violently shakes his head in a petty attempt to scream the chiselled image of rubble and burning tires out of his head. He claws hands over his ears to muffle the congregate of chatter to his right, the clink of metal colliding with Earth to his left and the cacophony of distant drones and ambient hum of neon lights. The boys pile into the broken aircraft like ants, ripping it apart and devouring the food supply but Mac just stands, watching individual specks of dirt rising into the air. The particles scatter and split amongst saturated, red lights seeping through holes and cracks in the underside of the bridge and clenches his fist. He squints, obscuring his vision of the bridge underside as the shadow of a memory flashes like a strobe light through his brain. HARD CUT IN. MONTAGE. VARIOUS. 1. A POV shot through the eyes of a vagabond dog following a trail of blood that leads to a collection of viscera piled up on the banks of a river. 2. A CRT TV displaying the 1982 film adaptation of Cannery Row sits on a table in front of a makeshift metallic bench. Deep focus as a man’s arms and legs are restrained to the bench by leather straps. He jolts around as if he is unable to wake up from a nightmare. 3. Low frame rate tracking shot of MAC following closely behind SKEGGS down the derelict streets of Casino Downs. MAC holds his head tight as if trying to keep it attached to
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CREATIVE his neck. SKEGGS Rid the world of the traits we detest. 4. POV shot of a cold, metallic pick entering a man’s nose and tickling at his brain. CUT IN. EXT. Bridge Underside, Casino Downs. Night. Mac appears distressed. Yet, his gaze still returns to Skeggs and the Boys. It always does. He opens his eyes and glares at Skeggs who carelessly rests his entire weight on the bridge pillar as he himself pays no attention as his ‘boys’ rip apart the aircraft. Water rushes against his feet yet he pays no attention or care as clumps of dirt and mucus gather to form small, sticky walls that build up against his boots before being washed away. He cradles a compact, orange book in his hands as if trying to soak the words up with his eyes as he holds a tethered light to his mouth like a microphone over-exposing his cracked, pursed lips. Skeggs clears his throat and holds his head high, mouthing the words on the page as if preparing to deliver a sermon. A wave of silence washes over the boys as they slowly turn their heads towards Skeggs who is now raising his left hand into the air, tightly clenching Cannery Row. SKEGGS (Begins with a slight whisper) The wisdom offered by the intellectual cornerstone of Cannery Row will bring end to chaos through understanding of the human condition lest those who reject its words have their detestable traits removed.
(His voice grows more confident) Passage 2. Doc 5:17. It has always seemed strange to me... The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first, they love the produce of the second.
Mac’s attention detracts from Skeggs as his eyes throb, the irradiating light of the distant city climbing into each individual pore of his body and ripping his skin to shreds. He starts violently swaying his head once again as he rips the soggy Winnie from the corner of his mouth and throws it into the debris. However, the flow of water catches the end of it and rips it into the current pulling it down the muddy stream. A rusted, metal pipe covered in algae stops the adrift dart. It washes up next to Doc who sits atop a pile of car tyres and unidentifiable scraps as he slowly whittles away at a scrap piece of timber. He places the knife against the wood and swiftly swipes forward in a smooth and consistent motion. As the shavings fall, the wood slowly begins to resemble a human effigy. A booming yet soothing voice emerges from the pile of rubble to the left of Doc. What’s happening here boyos?
CULTIST
Not recognising the voice, Doc cautiously returns to his whittling but slows his motions and acts with far more precision. CULTIST (With confidence and a slight tinge of aggression) Surely that isn’t Cannery Row I hear! You know as well as I that the sibling-like rivalry chronicled in Otomo’s epic ‘Akira’ is a far greater model for human progression. He freezes in place as a cold, pointy object is thrust against his throat.
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THE GREAT MOTHBEE MOTH/BEE BY MARK YIN
H
emaris diffinis, the snowberry clearwing, is a moth of the order Lepidopteria, family Sphingidae. Notable for its nicknames, such as “hummingbird moth” or “flying lobster”, it bears close physical resemblance to many other animals, albeit genetically unrelated. However, the clearwing bears the greatest resemblance, perhaps, to bombus impatiens, the common eastern bumblebee, among which it can blend in almost perfectly. The golden sun filtered through the greenery outside and fell on her weathered hands. She leaned forward, elbows resting on the pine tabletop. “So tell me a bit more about what you’re researching—moths, is it?” “Yeah…well no, I’m actually writing a paper about morphological mimicry among various animals, but I’m interested in one specific species of moth at the moment, the snowberry clearwing? I hear they’re native around here and I was wondering if any had ever gotten mixed in with your bees.” I passed the beekeeper a photograph of an insect. It had a fuzzy golden thorax, thin black legs, and a black abdomen adorned with two yellow stripes. The snowberry clearwing doesn’t just look like a bumblebee—its behaviour is also remarkably similar. Like bees, it consumes nectar from flowers, and unlike other moths, it flies diurnally. Their main distinguishing factor is their flight patterns; bees move their wings far more swiftly than moths do, making the moth look slightly clumsier in comparison. “I actually think one of them might’ve,” she replied, mildly fascinated. “I had a funny-looking bee appear a while back, dunno where he came from really. Stuck around and blended right in with all of mine for a little bit, thought I was going a bit nuts; I even went and dug out my old specs. Then I realised the bugger was flying a little funny, and its wings were pointy. I didn’t know what it was, so I had to kill it. It’s a pity...” “What do you mean, ‘flying a little funny’?” The snowberry clearwing reproduces like other moths—after the male locates a potential mate, he chases the female until she falls for him, literally mid-flight. Therefrom, the male flaps his wings and 62
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moves his antennae in a sort of ‘dance’, releasing pheromones to allure his mate. The clearwing is a rather more ostentatious performer, with a more concerted, elaborate routine than other species. “You’re telling me it was this moth trying to seduce my bees?” “Probably just one bee, but yeah—sometimes clearwing moths will see bees and confuse them for other moths, and honestly who can blame them?” She laughed drily. “Well, does that help with your research at all?” I paused to grab some pen and paper. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you observed any changes in your bees’ behaviour while the moth was around. Was it business as usual, or did anything feel a bit off?” Animal mimics are generally harmless. Sometimes, the mimicry is an evolutionary outcome where a vulnerable species adopts the phenotypes of a more aggressive, intimidating one. This is the case for clearwings, having evolved to look and behave like the venomous bumblebee. Meanwhile, the mimic and the species being mimicked usually coexist in peace, only ever interacting accidentally. What makes the case of the clearwing interesting is that it mimics a species renowned for its swarm intelligence, a species that frequently exhibits complex, coordinated behaviour as if an entire hive was one single organism. I met with a beekeeper who’d witnessed such a response to a snowberry clearwing. She noted an increase in the aggression of her bees, behaving markedly more erratically while the harmless clearwing was present. The moth had appeared in the ecosystem during its mating season, and made repeated failed attempts to mate. It was when these attempts became too overt that the beekeeper eliminated what she perceived as a potential threat to her bees. However, I posit that even without intervention, the bees would’ve eventually purged the imposter by themselves. Animal mimicry is oft understood as an evolutionary defence, yet we should concede that it can be imperfect. The mimic evades predation, but without the guarantee of safety from the species being mimicked. And so the world beats on…
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Content warning: drowning
CROSSING OVER BY ROSALIND MORAN Ships Over swirling waters Low prows, high tides… People missing possessions Lovers and daughters Small individuals making history. Forgetting Italy. Tracks covering oceans Ebbing strokes and flowing circles. Promises glittering for all… Figureheads splitting breaking waves Waters swelling underneath. Nonno bearing boxes Lia preserving photographs Watermarks seeping with memories Hope in embracing farewell… Lungs full of anticipation Laughter of children Gurgling babies Saltwater on lips— Were never they Found? They never were Lips on saltwater— Babies gurgling Children of laughter Anticipation of full lungs Farewell embracing in hope… Memories with seeping watermarks Photographs preserving Lia Boxes bearing Nonno Underneath swelling waters. Waves breaking splitting figureheads All for glittering promises… Circles flowing and strokes ebbing. Oceans covering tracks Italy forgetting. History making individuals small. Daughters and lovers Possessions missing people Tides high, prows low… Waters swirling over Ships.
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THE CREATIVE LITERATURE AND WRITING SOCIETY PRESENTS: THE REMARKABLE QUESTS OF RADDISH AND QUILL
THE DELIGHTFULLY WHOLESOME GENIE BY MARCIE DI BARTOLOMEO CLAWS is a club about writing, reading, discussing, and performing creative works. Ultimately, we’re a club about story-telling, self-expression, socialising, and, of course, fun! We plan to do a lot of stuff this year: weekly workshops, semi-regular open mic nights and seminars, DIY zine-making workshops, as well as our publication, Inkspot. Our email is claws.unimelb@gmail.com. You can also find us on Facebook and Wordpress, where we post regular updates and other fun stuff (including a blog by Raddish and Quill themselves!)
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GHH, this won’t do!” Quill banged their wings on the desk, their breath haggard and ragged. One would think they’d flown a marathon—a bird’s marathon that is: two days, six leagues and a third. Their leg wouldn’t stop quivering and their neck vein was right ready to burst. Quill’s outburst caught the eye of their roommate, their best bud, Raddish. Raddish scampered over to Quill’s side and placed a paw on their shoulder. “What’s wrong pal? You seem right ready to burst!” Quill shrugged off the paw, their eyes still lost, their brain befuddled by a maze of squiggles and symbols. “I’m fine, Raddish.” “Doesn’t look like you’re fine.” Quill took a moment to breathe (and then another). “... If you really must know. I’m stressed about—” “My friend, that’s easy to fix! We’re on break, SUMMER break! What better time to sit back, read a book, catch a fish? You can smile, you can sing, you can do everything! Especially here at the treehouse, on such a bright sunshiny day! And especially with a good friend like me! Why didn’t you say so? Come on, let’s go—” “That’s the thing...” Quill turned their head away, their beak struggling to form the next words. “... I can’t relax... To be perfectly honest, I’ve forgotten how.” Raddish was at a loss for words. How could their best friend—their fellow adventurer—have 64
/ ART BY STEPHANIE NESTOR
forgotten how to relax? Then again, Quill was never the most easy-going of ravens. They would often be beak-deep in poem after poem, sometimes pulling all-nighter after all-nighter for the sake of their next anthology. Raddish pouted; how could they help out with a predicament like this? Suddenly, as if the heavens above had heard their plea, a light bulb went off in Raddish’s head. They grabbed Quill’s wing and pulled them right off their chair. “Wha—Where are we going?” Quill asked. “Why we’re going adventuring! To the kitchen!” The rather pungent smell of rapidly boiling tea permeated through the treehouse. Quill slumped on the couch, trying with no avail to catch some z’s. Apparently Raddish’s idea of an adventure was boiling up some ancient nerve-soothing tea while Quill took a nap. Raddish was at the stove, staring at the teapot like it was some sort of ancient artifact, thousands of years old. Which it probably was; it had been found on one of their adventures to the tea fiefdom a while back. According to Raddish, the herbalist who’d sold them the teapot had called it a pure relic—“with a cryptic smile too!” Or so Raddish insisted. God that simpleton is so easy to impress sometimes, thought Quill. Still, it was nice that Raddish was going to such efforts to help them. That cat really did care, despite the funny way they showed it. So then why was Quill so cold to them? “Kettle’s ready,” said Raddish. “Also there’s a
genie with us.” Startled by this revelation, Quill hastily flew into the kitchen. And indeed Raddish was correct; emanating from the tip of the teapot was a magnificent goat spectre. Adorned with technicolour robes and the most stylish of goatee beards, the genie really was a most mesmerising sight to our two questers. A moment (or seven) of silence later, the genie cleared their throat and grinned.
CREATIVE “Why hello there! I am ummm... now what was my name again?” It would seem that a millennia or so of slumber had left quite a bit of rust on the poor genie’s memories. “Can we call you Peppermint?” asked Raddish. Seems the cat got over their shock, thought Quill. And are we seriously going to pick the genie’s na— “Why yes of course! What a wonderful name!” The aptly named Peppermint then cleared their throat with a mighty bleat. “Now down to business. I’m a genie, as you may have guessed, and I grant wishes. Three of them in fact. However—” The genie raised their hoof very high, their expression growing more serious. “I am a different kind of genie; I’m
what you mortals might call a wholesome genie. And so the wishes I grant must be suitably wholesome as well.” Raddish gasped, their cheeks turning rosy with unbridled exhilaration. “Define wholesomeness, Peppermint,” asked a bemused Quill. “Why, generally kind, more or less selfless stuff.” Quill groaned. Only the marvellous questers Raddish and Quill could stumble upon a genie with such specific guidelines. All Quill wanted was some gems to spice up the treehouse. Or the best poems to read. Or the ability to work on their anthologies without sleep. Or— “I wish that Quill would relearn how to relax!” Peppermint smiled. “And what a wholesome wish
indeed. Doing something to help your bestie out, it warms my 5000-year-old heart. “However, while wholesome, it sadly is beyond my powers. For a start, the art of relaxing is already quite a complicated and nuanced process, and each mortal has their own special way. Not to mention how... difficult your friend here found relaxing to begin with.” “Awwwwww... how sad,” Raddish said, their head down. Quill’s head was also down, more so due to the immense wholesomeness of the wish. “However, I’m willing to provide you with ways to relax. Like so.” Moments later things of all kinds appeared:
books, herbal teas, soap, video games and their respective consoles. But still, Quill sighed. All of these things they had tried. None had worked. “What about world peace?” asked Raddish. “Maybe if the world was more peaceful, Quill could be too?” Now it was Peppermint’s turn to sigh. “While that is a nice thought, it again is beyond my power. The idea of world peace means different things for different people; one’s idea of world peace could be another’s worst dystopia. It really is a headache, and a sad one at that.” Quill slumped to the ground in despair. They didn’t even want to de-stress purely for themself anymore. They wanted to do it for Raddish. And that was when the light bulb in Quill’s own brain shone out like one of the many suns they’d encountered on their adventures. “Can you provide Raddish with the thing that will make them happiest?” Peppermint mused for a little bit, twirling their hoof through their beard. Eventually they smiled. A click of a hoof later, Quill was on the ground fast asleep. Raddish beamed. “Awww—thanks Peppermint. Quill is all nice and asleep. And look!” Indeed, in their sleep, Quill seemed to be oddly peaceful. It really was
something, well, wholesome to behold. “Now, your last wish dearies! And then I’ll be back in my teapot...” It was Peppermint’s head that slumped this time. “Oh that—for your freedom of course!” “...That’s one of the most wholesome wishes anyone has ever made... It’s up there with your friend’s just before.” Peppermint attempted to wipe away their tears. However, their hooves did make doing a thorough job of it difficult. Seeing this, Raddish offered them a tissue. “Why thank you. Now to spread wholesomeness wherever I go!” After a flurry of goodbyes, the genie departed their teapot and dispersed in peppermint green flashes of light. Raddish, left with the sleeping Quill, carried them to their room, tucked them in, and turned on their favourite playlist of Beethoven and David Bowie. Taking a moment, Raddish smiled before collapsing to the floor. They had practically run marathons too after all—what with all the tea-making.
ART BY STEPHANIE NESTOR /
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FOR AND AGAINST: CORPORATE JINGLES FOR BY ALAIN NGUYEN
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ello, it’s Alain Nguyen from Farrago Magazine. I hope you read that in Frank Walker’s voice, his annoying drawl, the very one that keeps me up at night. You may think, if the ad is so annoying, why do you memorise it? Shouldn’t organisations tell their marketing sources to stop creating such terrible content and make a new ad? The reality is, corporate slogans and jingles are a necessary evil, to distinguish brands, goods and services. Whether you can “beat it by 10 per cent” or find your local Chemist Warehouse “in the middle of the street”, Australian culture (whatever it is) has been ingrained by iconic moments on the screen. It is done by the ingenuity of creative marketers to annoy, generate laughter, or make it memorable. At their core, social value is what many brands thrive on because it generates debates, stories and even ambassadors in the way products are marketed. The National Reading Writing Helpline, for example, gained more exposure from its iconic “One Three Double Oh Six Triple Five Oh Six” than it would have from an information booklet or a random internet ad. Consequently, fewer people would have been able to access adult education providers for literacy and numeracy. These iconic slogans and jingles make it easier for your heuristic understanding (memory triggers) by differentiating between similar products in the process of purchase. It’s argued that brand familiarity and exposure prevents people from making objective and sound consumer decisions, without the added pressures of social and cultural norms as well as peer opinion. True, it’s hard to find an unbiased viewpoint about products, brands or organisations even when there are multiple competitors. The success of brands do not depend on how truthful they can be, rather how convincing they can be. They need to show that somehow, this will make a customer’s life easier. Who needs to go to that chemist “in the middle of the street” or even the ones that are “feeling better now”? It is a matter of standing out and being creative. The message is the most important aspect of a brand. It’s how you make a decision, whether it’s based off feelings of annoyance, amusement or both—just like it was for me with National Tiles. I’ll be seeing you after I renovate my non-existent house with a whole pallet of them. 66
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AGAINST BY ANDIE MOORE
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ow can I support corporate jingles when they’re bloody awful? Their point is not to please people, or provide some sort of benefit to their lives. The point is manipulation. And manipulation is fundamentally wrong. Corporate jingles are hollow, and deliberately so. They provide no selling point and no information about a product to a consumer. They’re brought in when advertisers can’t think of any advantage over their competitors except for a memorable jingle. And their purpose is explicit: to jam a brand name into your head through a rhythm that never escapes your head. Imagine you’re watching TV. Your show ends for the break, and a Bunnings ad airs. You’re greeted with a long organ tune which flows on from key to key, and which massages your eardrums behind a montage of lawnmowers. Inevitably, you sing to the rhythm, before chanting “BUNNINGS WAREHOUSE! LOWEST PRICES ARE THE BEGINNING!” Great! That was fun. But now that tune is stuck with you all day. Bunnings is holding you hostage with an inescapable tune. And suddenly you’ve privileged Bunnings in your memory over every other hardware store. Bunnings has rearranged your mind, with Bunnings on top. Other ads and companies might have better products, but too bad! You’re at the mercy of a corporate jingle. Corporate jingles exist to crowd out rational thought by producing groovy songs that entice and enslave the senses. They substitute for reasoned thought and bluff us into remembering the brand. We never asked for these songs. Corporations created and held them against us. Knowing the irresistibility of jingles, they were co-opted to reshuffle and reorder our priorities: to lead us into buying more. Let us imagine a jingle-free world where our minds roam, free of corporate interference! A world where we remember companies for what they offer us! A world where we ask what companies can do for us, instead of being led into mindless consumption. A world of sober thought, where we possess sovereignty over our thoughts. A world free of the corporate jingle: free of manipulation writ large.