Issue 08 ✦ Climate Crisis

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The Unedited Session

Salient Podcasts

Editorial

Climate in Crisis Mode

In the face of existential doom, it’s not unusual to ask how in the world another magazine writing about climate change is really going to help.

The Salient “Climate Crisis” issue doesn’t reduce emissions, nor build new public transport routes, nor burn down capitalism. If anything, our beloved print medium kills a big boy chunk of trees (at least we’re self aware right?).

But our words fill a need just as great—they get us talking about the crisis.

There are many days when the news becomes too much for us. We’ll avoid headlines as we become numb to the barrages of bad news. Nobody likes the guy (Maia) who brings up the rapid global warming hurtling us into an unlivable future at Friday night pres. But it’s so important that we be that guy.

The facts of the climate crisis—mitigation, adaptation, net-zero emissions, overshoot, and carbon budgets—mean nothing without communication. By communicating, telling our stories, and sharing our fears, the facts of the crisis feel real to us. Storytelling, artistry, and creation are all integral to understanding the dire state of the climate crisis and its impacts. Creativity also helps us to imagine a better future.

On the cover of this issue, you’ll see a vision of the not-sofar-away future if we continue as we are—burning fossil fuels, over-consuming, polluting, and creating a climate that is uninhabitable in many parts of the world. If you feel afraid, then good, you should be. On the back cover, you’ll see a vision of a world where we have embraced change. It’s not perfect. We will still bear the impacts of climate-altered weather events, as we do today. And in many ways, this world will be a struggle to adapt to. But in the future, we might have embraced renewable energy, rewilded our cities, and embodied climate justice and mātuaranga Māori. As far away as this might seem, it is possible.

If we don’t allow ourselves to imagine this future, and if we don’t find ways to cope with the climate crisis, then there is no hope. But if you treat this issue as an invitation to question, converse, and imagine, then we’ve got something to work with. Dive into the storytelling of the climate crisis, and get fucking angry. Be that guy who brings climate injustice up at the party. Argue with your uncle about reducing emissions. Look at your politicians, and if they aren’t doing enough, bring the anger to them.

This week, Maia kicks us off imagining a climatealtered future by unpacking the crisis we are already in. Kiran jumps into how to approach climate nihilism from a positive lens. Pippi investigates all things climate denialism, and Lauren shares her hot takes on the environmental impact of festivals and live music events.

In our News section, Niamh covers staff cuts at Otago uni and asks whether we will be next. Zoë figures out just what is the new cost of living scholarship, and with Fran, they investigate the Save Passenger Rail protests. Ethan Sr susses out National’s new candidate for Wellington Central, while Ethan Jr dives deep into the controversial billboards appearing around Pōneke. Podcast Manager Alex makes his News debut, telling us his opinion on why we should make trains sexy.

After reading this issue, go get an ice-cream— climate change is heavy. Then go take some action.

Arohanui, Maia and Fran xoxo

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LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Like Rupi Kaur? Check out her predecessor, Nayyirah Waheed: Response to ‘milk & (m)oney: rupi kaur in wellington’ (published in Issue 7, “Brain”).

salt., Waheed’s first poetry collection, was published in 2013, before Milk and Honey a year later, and ever since, Waheed has reached out to Kaur on the blatant similarities between the two works. Kaur has stayed silent on the subject—the perfect way to deal with criticism, as it leads to it going ignored—and claims there are no similarities, while simultaneously claiming Waheed as inspiration.

I personally do not like Kaur’s poems, and see most coming across as surface level, vapid, and like something a drunk girl would say to you at a party. Waheed’s works, whilst still being in the same short, instagramable style, have depth and metaphor. If you’re obsessed with Kaur—please pick up a copy of salt., or Nejma, her second work. Use Kaur as a jumping off point to leap into the world of good poetry. Another name to check out is Warsan Shire, whose work was adapted for Beyoncé’s Lemonade.

Anonymous Clown (any/all)

CALL OUT

Calling out for all creatives with immigrant and/or refugee backgrounds to help fill Issue 11!

We are looking for a range of creative voices to contribute to Issue 11: the immigrant and refugee issue. We are looking for writers, designers, and artists to create arts and culture content, features, essays, the centrefold and cover, poetry, photography, and news. Send your writing pitches to editor@salient.org.nz

Send your design/visual pitches to designer@salient.org.nz

We are also on the look out for review writers, news writers, opinion writers, poets, and photographers to contribute to Salient! If you're interested, email editor@salient.org.nz to get involved.

Think your art belongs on the walls of VUW students? Send your work to designer@salient.org.nz to be considered for our centrefold.

News the

VUW Not Ruling Out Staff Cuts Following Otago Debacle

Words by Niamh Vaughan (she/her)

The University of Otago has announced it will be considering a large number of job cuts in the near future, and it appears Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington may not be far behind. VUW has been unable to guarantee there will be no staff cuts, stating that, “The university is looking at a range of cost-saving options but has not yet made any decisions with regards to redundancies.”

Alongside Otago, Massey University is also planning for a restructure, hoping to cut 178 jobs and replacing them with only 144 new ones. Stuff reported last week that Massey’s academic board was “unequivocally against” the change, believing that it would have a negative effect on staff.

Earlier this year, Salient reported that at the time, enrolment rates at VUW had dropped 11% from last year. The total has moved up to 12.1%, giving VUW the biggest decrease in enrolment numbers out of all the North Island universities, with each one seeing a lower turnout in students this year.

VUW remains determined that this low position has nothing to do with the issues students were having with the new enrolment system, Tītoko. They stated the low enrollments are owed to “changes in student demand, demographic changes, low unemployment, and the growing cost of living.”

The university currently employs nearly 2500 staff. Salient spoke to Alex*, a member of a university faculty that has had an ongoing battle with staffing issues.

“We have had three years of uncertainty about our employment. People are worn down and burning out. It’s increasingly obvious that this is a sector wide problem of how universities are funded and managed,” they said.

One university department at VUW is already at risk. VUW is currently “working through a consultation process related to the work of the Institute for Governance and Policy Studies,” said a spokesperson. “No decisions about the future of the institute have yet been made.”

If VUW is to follow in the footsteps of fellow universities, the effect could be detrimental. “Massey’s proposed restructuring would... place a massive extra burden on already overworked staff and come at a cost of enormous institutional knowledge in the process. This leads to big inefficiencies: it slows everything and exhausts more junior staff,” Alex said.

VUW is already making moves to fill the $15 million hole left in revenue, placing an operational spending hold across the entire Faculty of Science.

Last Wednesday, an email was sent out to all Science departments, providing an extensive list of what the faculty will no longer be able to spend school money on, ranging from office supplies such as coffee and printing, to equipment maintenance , staff development, and training. Research grants are exempt from the hold. The purchasing ban has no specified end date, which is subject to an operational spending review by senior leadership staff.

*names have been changed

Disrupted Highways and Disgruntled Drivers: Restore Passenger Rail

Recent disruptive climate protests have riled Wellington motorists, as activists from Restore Passenger Rail (RPR) have blocked roads and glued themselves to highways.

Five protestors are in police custody after a blockade in which protestors glued their hands to State Highway 1 at Vivian Street last Monday, lasting 30 minutes before police intervention. This followed another protest the week before, blocking Adelaide Road by the Basin Reserve on 20 April, and another on 17 April, blocking the southbound lanes of the Terrace Tunnel. Protestors were arrested in both incidents.

The group first appeared in October last year, when they scaled the gantry above the Wellington Urban Motorway near Bowen Street, hanging a bright orange banner reading "Restore Passenger Rail".

A representative of RPR told Salient that the incentive behind these displays of activism are to make the government aware of the crucial need for free public transport and “a passenger rail system” to decrease Wellington’s collective emissions. They say that disruptive protesting is the only way to get noticed: “[We are] taking action which cannot be ignored.”

“[The government] are knowingly and willingly leading us into an unlivable future. We are on track to hit 2 degrees [global] warming within the next 20 years. We will see crop failure, mass migration, and societal breakdown, so we are demanding that our government act now.”

Mayor Tory Whanau supports the group’s cause of working toward free public transport city-wide, but disagrees with the “disruptive” protesting style. “Even though I support the use of rail, I do not support Restore Passenger Rail or their protests which are… of great inconvenience to the general public,” she said.

Whanau believes the civilian disturbance is “unacceptable”and she refuses to meet RPR to discuss their demands. Instead, Whanau says she will

“continue to lobby the Greater Wellington Regional Council… the organisation responsible for setting public transport fares.”

RPR told Salient they have tried other, less obstructive, forms of protesting, but blocking motorways is what “gets people talking”. “It gets the attention of the government and the media, and it puts the public in a position of needing to have an opinion,” they said.

“The bottom line is that rail is a super energy efficient way to move big numbers of people, it creates very low emissions, and is a technology that already exists that can get people out of planes and cars as we need to do very quickly,” said Paul Callister, a Senior Associate at the Institute for Governance and Policy Studies at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington.

Callister is a core passenger rail advocate and a part of the group The Future Is Rail, previously Save Our Trains. He told Salient that despite being passionate about the cause, the RPR protests are concerning, and that “currently”, he and The Future Is Rail will not “engage”. “I worry a lot about who might end up getting hurt, probably accidentally as these are peaceful protests,” he said, mentioning however that RPR as a group “are deeply committed to looking after our planet and future generations.”

Callister told Salient, “[RPR’s] message does reflect the simple reality that there is overwhelming support for reviving passenger rail... [RPR] methods may not hit the right note with everyone, [but] a great number of people share their frustration that such the obvious 'quick win' of using our existing rail infrastructure is being ignored.”

For now, RPR would like to see the government upgrade the existing passenger rail network, starting with the return of daily services on the AucklandWellington and Picton-Christchurch lines. The group have been spotted by Salient on VUW’s Kelburn campus talking to students, and RPR flyers have been found lurking in Salient stands.

Words by Francesca Pietkiewicz (she/they), Zoë Mills (they/she), and Maia Ingoe (she/her)

New “Cost-of-Living” Scholarship Announced by University

Words by Zoë Mills (they/she)

Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington has announced a new “cost of living scholarship” to help support students as the cost of living soars.

In an article published by Re: News, the university shared news of a “recently announced” scholarship, aimed at helping Te Herenga Waka students who are feeling the burden of the cost of living crisis.

The scholarship is yet to be listed on the university’s scholarship database, but can be found under a donations page on the university website.

Members of the public are encouraged to fund the scholarship with donations. “Every single gift made in support of our Emergency Cost of Living Scholarships will be matched, dollar for dollar, by Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington until the end of May 2023,” the university writes.

Students will be able to apply for the scholarship in early June, and will be informed in July of their application status. While the university is unable to confirm the exact criteria of the scholarship at this

stage, the university told Salient that the scholarship will be open to all returning students.

While the unusual approach of fundraising for a scholarship has been met with confusion from the student community, a spokesperson for the university told Salient that VUW carries out “many fundraising campaigns each year” for different student support programmes.

“This year we have asked our alumni to support this cost-of-living scholarship, in response to the unique set of circumstances currently facing our students.”

The foggy nature of the scholarship has meant details, such as how many students the scholarship will actually be able to help, are unclear.

As of this week, the fund for the cost of living scholarship has received over $13,000 in donations from alumni and other donors. The donations campaign will close on 30 May, when the final donations number will be assessed.

“The number of scholarships we will be able to provide with this fund will depend on the total amount raised,” the university told Salient

National Party Candidate Announcement Solidifies Wellington Central Race

Words by Ethan Manera (he/him)

The three big contenders are finally known in the race for Wellington Central after National announced that international human rights lawyer Dr Scott Sheeran will contest the seat in this year's general election.

Alongside the Greens’ Tamatha Paul and Labour’s Ibrahim Omer, Sheeran says he’s already underway in campaigning for the seat, which hasn't been held by National since 1981.

Sheeran currently lives in Abu Dhabi and plans to move back to Aotearoa in July. “I'm really excited. I'm really looking forward to meeting people and hearing more about what matters,” he said.

An outsider to politics, Sheeran was motivated to run after watching “the way that New Zealand is going”. His three main priorities are tackling the cost of living, supporting social enterprise, and infrastructure.

Currently working as a human rights lawyer for the United Arab Emirates Government, he describes himself as “socially liberal” while still caring about the economy. “I've learned that if you want great social services, you need to have a great economy— the money has to come from somewhere.”

Sheeran’s competitors aren't too concerned about his campaign, with Paul calling it a “two horse race” between herself and Ibrahim.

“I don't see him as a threat... I think it's a massive sacrifice to move all the way back here to run for a seat that he doesn't have a very good chance at winning. I'm not sure what their thinking is there.”

Sheeran last lived in Wellington in 2019, residing in his family home in the Rongotai electorate. He currently rents out this property and plans to move elsewhere within the Wellington Central electorate upon returning to New Zealand later this year.

Billboards for Voices For Freedom’s New Media Platform Spark Concern

Words by Ethan Rogacion (he/him)

CW: Homophobia, Transphobia, Racism.

Anew billboard erected above Cuba Street promoting Reality Check Radio has caused controversy amongst Pōneke residents sparking discussion online. Reality Check Radio (RCR) is a new media venture by Voices For Freedom (VFF), an organisation infamous for promoting disinformation about the Covid-19 pandemic.

Launched in March, Reality Check Radio is an exclusively online media network which, according to their website, seek to be “an oasis of rational thought in an age of cancel-culture, censorship and false narratives.” The outlet has previously produced content that has denied climate change, spread false claims about vaccines and Covid-19, and amplified transphobic rhetoric in an effort to combat the “woke agenda”.

The website features four main hosts, including Chantelle Baker, an online disinformation influencer who rose to prominence during the 2022 occupation of Parliament. Baker is joined by former 1News newsreader Peter Williams, former RNZ presenter Paul Brennan, and former Act MP Rodney Hide. The outlet also features a cast of other prominent voices from the disinformation space.

According to the New Zealand Companies Register, the directors of RCR’s holding company are the same three founders of VFF.

The outlet claims to be the “fastest growing media platform in New Zealand” and encourages donations from listeners. However, its parent organisation, VFF, has been scrutinised for its nontransparent financial sources, with questions about their links to overseas disinformation networks. VFF’s website encourages supporters to donate to them in an effort to “beat censorship using oldschool marketing such as flyers and billboards.”

This isn’t the first time that VFF have come under fire for their campaigns. Billboards promoting anti-vaccination rhetoric have been spotted around Pōneke in previous years, prompting a number of submissions to the Advertising Standards Authority. The company that has hosted their billboards in the past, Jolly Billboards, is the same company hosting the current RCR campaign.

According to her LinkedIn, Sally Cogle, a former candidate for Christchurch’s Linwood Ward, is Jolly Billboards' National Sales Manager. According to Stuff, Cogle has repeatedly promoted anti-vax rhetoric on her Facebook and has ties to VFF, although she denies being a member. Cogle is also connected to Christchurch’s conspiracy theory network, with Stuff reporting that she is a member of Room 102— an organisation that has associations with far-right extremists—which interrupted a drag queen storytime at the city’s Tūranga library in March.

Wellington City Councillor Tamatha Paul has expressed unease about the billboards, saying that she “has long been concerned about racist, antiabortion, and transphobic billboards that have sprung up across Wellington.” Paul said that “there is no place for hatred, bigotry and discrimination in our city”, and that RCR “simply feeds into the high volumes of misinformation the public are exposed to.”

Salient has approached VFF, RCR, and Jolly Billboards for comment.

HEADLINE

MYSTERY COW ON THE LOOSE IN WELLINGTON SUBURB

Wellington residents were left bamboozled after a light brown cattle beast was seen roaming Scorching Bay. The sight of the runaway heifer prompted locals to take to social media with Wellington City Council soon getting involved. “We’ve no idea how it got there.

It’s a total mystery to us,” a council spokesperson told the media. It was later revealed that the cow is a repeat offender, often escaping from its home above Scorching Bay Domain. The beefy beast has now been affectionately named Harriet Houdini by the council.

VUW FLIP FLOPS OF TWITTER CLOSURE

After Salient reported on the mysterious closure of the university’s Twitter account last week, a bizarre development has transpired. The university had “closed” their main @WellingtonUni account earlier this year and urged users to interact with their research account @WgtnUniResearch. But after reporting by Salient last week, the main account has announced its return, and the research account is now closed. Twitter users have been left perplexed by the open-close switcheroo, with one labelling it an “enigma” and another sorrowful user commenting “no more research :(”. The announcement received two likes.

HOT TAKES

Physics

Rob (he/him)

Master's of Environmental Neurology

Start with the small things like incentivising cycling to work, then I would heavily advise a train route across the country… Although New Zealand's farms are the most sustainable in the world, they're still pretty unsustainable so I would shift to increasing indoor farming.

Erin (she/her)

Works at Wai-te-ata Press

I

Sociology

I

and International Relations

As the world responds to the climate crisis, what kind of change do you want to see?

Kennedy (she/her)

would love to see more meat alternative products on the market… I think that there's lots of exciting things to be done in the food space to create more sustainable food systems.

would love to see more incorporation of indigenous knowledge in climate change policy response and definitely free public transport so more people take it, that would be great.

Sophia (she/her)

Definitely a lot more public transport use, not using my car so much… just making sure you’re doing your recycling every week and stuff like that.

Re:

OPINION : Inter-city rail brings Aotearoa together

Words by Alex Marinkovich-Josey (he/him)

We need to make inter-city rail sexy.

The fight for action on the climate crisis is missing a crucial campaigning opportunity. We need to get more people interested in transportation policy, while taking our environment into account. Let's romanticise our lives through inter-city rail.

Everyone’s dreamed about a rail trip through Europe— travelling between countries, relaxing on trains that speed through gorgeous landscapes, not having to worry about the hassles of flying or the cost of gas. It’s a mode of transportation that allows us to relinquish control, but also allows us to be grounded in the places we travel through, relaxing and admiring the scenery.

I’ve always been a fan of trains. As a kid, I went nowhere without a booklet of Thomas the Tank Engine trading cards. Visiting my parents in Europe last year, I finally took the trains I’d been longing for to travel between cities and countries, and it changed my world. In Aotearoa, there's a lot of conversation about buses, cycleways, and light-rail or streetcars, and for good reason too. They’re all necessary in transforming the way in which we get around our cities and connect our communities.

I refuse to believe that flying and buses are the only viable public transportation options between cities. I hate flying. I always panic about passports and boarding passes, losing my luggage, and being stuck in a flying metal tube with no real grasp on where I am. I prefer my metal tubes to be moved along rails, thank you very much.

There are a number of groups that are campaigning for rail infrastructure and the improvement of our existing networks, which are used mostly for cargo. I think these groups are missing an opportunity to let people know just how much fun train trips are—sitting in a booth with your friends, watching the rolling hills and great forests pass by, being able to stand up and move around properly rather than being confined to a seat with absolutely no leg room. Even better, electrified rail networks come without the tonnes of emissions of a claustrophobic jet.

It's time for railway campaigns to get a makeover. Lettrains be the hot new thing (again). We need to resource Aotearoa with a network of reliable, accessible, and climate-friendly trains to connect communities between cities and towns, and to bring the country closer to a climate resilient, carbon-zero future. Then we can realise our dream of a European rail journey to fantastic, inter-regional holidays right here in Aotearoa.

Train conductor Alex captured by Ethan Manera

‘What if We Just Made Art, Not the CLIMATE CRISIS ?’

Words by Xavier Farrow-Francis (he/she/they) and Maia Ingoe (she/her)

Generation Zero’s opening night for their exhibition, ‘What if we made art, not the climate crisis?’, felt close and touching. Run by the youth climate activism group, their aim was to curate art through community hui leading up to a competition, receiving over 80 submissions. The winners were featured in the exhibition hosted at Te Auaha from 15-26 April. The focus of the art was imagining what the world in 2050 could look like through art.

The opening event was hosted by Janine Kaminski and Annalis Veldmeiger, the coordinators of the competition and exhibition. In their opening speeches, their devotion to the climate and the communities of Te Whanganui-a-Tara was clear to see. This was partially due to the sheer amount of like-minded people lining up out the door, trying their hardest to share the intimate space. But, it was also because of the passion, emotion, and hope put on display throughout the evening.

Their speeches were full of emotion, as they welled up over the sight of everyone and getting to share what they’ve worked hard on since May 2022. “As young people, it is easy to look around and see what a bleak future holds for us and our world. Now, more than ever, it is essential to imagine a world where we and our planet can thrive,” said Kaminski. Imagination and hope were a recurring theme throughout the night, and a focus of the exhibition. “We believe that imagining a planet where humans, nature, and animals thrive is not only necessary, but it's a radical way that we can challenge the status quo,” Veldmeiger echoed.

There was plenty of talent on display—murals, paintings, drawings, and other pieces featuring skilled, creative, and well-informed artists, with categories ranging from the

ages of 10-18-years-old and beyond. A real sense of unity and community was felt in the murals, as the young artists depicted nature, humanity, technology, and coexistence. The other pieces on display echoed these feelings of hope for our climate, utilising many different art forms and styles to convey optimism. From drawings and collages, to graphite and photography, to song and poetry, the exhibition was teeming with inspiration.

The exhibition was something different for Generation Zero, as an activist group that has worked across climate action campaigns and policy development. “Throughout this project, one of our main goals was to show that activism comes in many forms, whether it's through art, whether it's for policy, or whether it's through purchase or any other form of activism,” Kaminski said in her opening speech.

A couple of these pieces were performed at the opening night too. 10-year-old Bill Kelly’s poem served as an accompaniment to his Dalí-inspired artwork, strikingly describing a ticking clock counting down to our future. Shan Jordan performed a song written for the exhibition after she saw a river filled with plastic bottles on the news. Next to the entrance, a space on the wall for visitors to share their thoughts and hopes for the future via sticky notes was an encouraging and heartfelt way to create more engagement with the community.

Kaminski and Veldmeiger’s hope for their exhibition is that more spaces like this one get the opportunity to materialise— spaces where people are encouraged to discuss climate change in more creative ways. “For me, I'd never painted before, and it helped me to feel like, ‘Okay, this is a way I can get some of that anxiety out so that people can come to the exhibition and think about how they can put hope into practice in the community,’” said Veldmeiger.

The Ballad of Matty Healy and His Brain: The 1975 At Their Very Best

Words by Bella Maresca (they/them) and Maia Ingoe (she/her)

On 19 April, crowds gathered in their hundreds at TSB Arena to see indie-pop band The 1975 for the Wellington leg of their At Their Very Best tour. Every concert-goer was ready to live out their 2013-Tumblr-girl fantasy.

The show opened with ‘The Birthday Party’, in the wrong key, prompting a re-start with frontman Matty ‘The Ratty’ Healy saying, “There are no rules to this show.” There was not a dull moment in the 25-song long setlist, delighting fans and bringing a high-energy intensity to the arena. Hits such as ‘Happiness’, ‘UGH!’ and ‘Robbers’ were highlights of the first half of the set. ‘Love it if We Made It’ sent us all spiralling into existential dread, and an acoustic mashup of ‘Paris’, ‘Me & You Together Song’, and ‘Wintering’ felt like a lil treat, just for us. Crowd-pleaser ‘The Sound’ had the entire arena jumping together in one of the most joyous concert experiences we’ve had.

Matty is known for his erratic, boundary-pushing performance, which gathers as much controversy as it does popularity on TikTok. His performances prompt the question: how much of it is truly concerning, and how much is part of his social experiment?

Matty confessed to the crowd, “I’m trying to be myself, which is a weird thing to do in public.” Fans noted that he appeared tired of the ‘Truman Black’ alter-ego he presents on stage and on his social media accounts, which were deactivated only days prior to his appearance in Wellington. “Being single and a bloke is mental, and if you're on the internet, you go a bit insane. I went a bit insane and then I made a show about it,” Matty explained to the crowd. Now, he said, he’s “starting to come down from this social experiment.” The show was full of moments of sincerity, despite ‘Sincerity Is Scary’ not making it onto the set list (a disappointing moment for fellow Brief Inquiry girlies).

The crowd delighted in the Matty moments, regardless of concerns over his well-being. He chain smoked through the performance on TSB Arena’s smokefree stage, tucking half-smoked cigarettes into guitar strings, and swigging from a red wine bottle, which never

appeared to get below half-empty. Matty dedicated ‘I’m In Love With You’ to the boys in the audience in a speech beginning with, “I’m not a meninist, but…” He acknowledged mens’ mental health struggles and compared their lack of socialisation to the wine nights that girls and “people of all different creeds, and gender expressions” have. Men, he said, needed “football, and shit like that” to tell each other “bro, I fucking love you.” He added, “You can love dudes, and it’s not gay. [But] it’s a bit gay when I do it.”

A Wattpad Y/N dream became reality for one fan when Matty recognised them in the crowd, telling us how they went on a walk together in New York, but “it wasn’t weird”. This fan was Emily Sachs (@emilyxinfinity on TikTok) who has followed the band around half the world. Sachs told Salient, “It caught me quite off guard to see the sincere, down-to-earth version of Matty that I’d met in New York up on stage just being himself.”

Nearing the half-way point of the show, Matty declared “I’m bored of the show now.” Not wanting to be “exposed”, he harassed the lighting technicians into turning the house lights on to give the room “democracy”. Sitting in the centre of the stage with a towel covering his head, he sang a harrowing rendition of ‘I Like America & America Likes Me’. In this moment, Matty truly appeared to be sick of the social media sensationalisation of his performance, transforming his joking moments into meaningful soundbites.

The 1975’s shows don’t often end with an encore. When the lights went down and Matty remained on stage, with only his silhouette and the soft glow of his cigarette visible, we waited in anticipation. He told us that he’s been working on a film and asked that we stick around to be part of it. He ventured into the centre of the crowd and began an acoustic version of ‘Be My Mistake’, wanting to end the show singing together. However, this was Aotearoa, and any moment of silence brings someone out to sing, at the top of their lungs, ‘Tūtira Mai Ngā Iwi’. The crowd couldn’t help but join in, drowning Matty out. This was a real moment of sincerity.

CW: Auckland Flooding, Cyclone Hale, and Cyclone Gabrielle.

“[This] is a code red for humanity. The alarm bells are deafening, and the evidence is irrefutable.” - UN Secretary General António Guterres on the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Sixth Assessment Report, 9 August 2021.

12 January 2023

I check the news as I wake up (not doing my anxiety any favours). A Guardian article tells me there's a new study analysing a stack of research carried out by ExxonMobil scientists. The article reveals they predicted climate change, with striking accuracy, in the 1970s.

The ExxonMobil scientists projected warming rates of 0.2 degrees per decade due to carbon dioxide emissions —a near match to the climate changes we’ve witnessed. It’s not a surprise to me that oil companies like ExxonMobil predicted climate change. Yet, as I read, I struggle to perceive how, with such knowledge, these companies still lobbied, discredited, and paid for disinformation campaigns against what their own scientists had confirmed. They spoke out against climate science, doubting its connection to human consumption of greenhouse gases.

In 2022, as the climate continued to suffer, ExxonMobil’s earnings totalled $56 billion. They knew.

13 January 2023

Cyclone Hale hits the East Coast of Aotearoa. It’s the first State of Emergency for the region this year. Emergency controllers call the storm a ‘one-in-20-year event’.

There are headlines about the summer holidays in the Coromandel being cut short. A week ago, I travelled two hours through gravel roads to get to the very top of the peninsula, testing Mum’s old Mazda through the windy Coromandel roads. Today, major state highways are forced closed due to flooding and slips.

In a few weeks from now, pictures will surface of landslides ripping through State Highway 25, carving caverns 110 metres wide.

In Tairāwhiti, my hometown, defence force vehicles are used to reach isolated communities north of Tolaga Bay. Telecommunications in the upper East Coast are patchy.

The widespread damage is described by property owners as ‘devastating’. Storm-dislodged forestry travelling downstream is the major source of carnage for the coast, prompting calls for an inquiry into the industry—and it’s not the first time. In 2017, forestry slash ripped apart rivers and farmland in Tolaga Bay. The images of a coastline coated in a thick layer of twisted logs made headlines.

After Cyclone Hale, carcasses of dead crayfish were mixed in with the mess of slash-coated beaches. The silt washed downstream, suffocating the shellfish and washing them ashore alongside debris.

Mana Taiao Tairāwhiti starts a petition, urging the Gisborne District Council to support an independent inquiry into land use regulations in Tairāwhiti. It’s shared by UAWA LIVE on Facebook. The coastal radio station consistently provides updates through social media while communications are down.

They repost the petition, saying:

E tangi ana nga maunga

E tangi ana nga awa

E tanga ana te whenua taurikura nei Mawai rē enei mahi hē e whakatika?

Our mountains are crying

Our rivers are crying

Our paradise is crying

Who will come forward and fix this mess?

30 January 2023

Heavy rainfall causes floods through Auckland City. I watch the news roll in all night long, waiting for a State of Emergency declaration. I'm meant to travel up there tomorrow. Even as scenes of flooded streets and drenched Elton John concert-goers fill my TikTok For You Page, we remain unsure of the extent of damage.

31 January 2023

The flooded Auckland Airport terminal, now closed, looks like an opening scene from a disaster movie. Cars blocked by floodwaters. Supermarket shelves turned into swimming lanes. Headlines on homes gutted by floodwaters, punctuated by that ‘media-drongo’s’ press conference. I tweet, from my dry bed in Wellington, “The rain may be out of human control, but this disaster is man made.” I get 523 likes.

Words by Maia Ingoe (she/her)

12 February 2023

Yesterday, I had my 21st. I talked to family members about their drives home the next day. We hoped they’d get back before the storm rolled in. I didn’t think much of it.

16 February 2023

On the morning of Tuesday, 14 February, a National State of Emergency was declared. I waited, watching as the news came in. Cyclone Gabrielle caused devastation all along the East Coast. The so-called ‘one-a-100-year storm’ caused river levels to reach record heights—some up to 18 metres. The floods came fast, turning Hawke’s Bay vineyards into flood plains. Silt submerged homes and livelihoods in the Esk Valley. Cars were carried by floodwaters to land lodged into the wall of homes. Entire communities were evacuated from rooftops in the early hours of the morning. In Tairāwhiti, all telecommunications were cut off for five days. Those of us far away from home gathered information through Facebook pages. Family members living out of town made desperate posts on community groups asking if anyone had heard anything from up the coast.

No internet meant no EFTPOS machines, leaving people without a way to buy supplies. Water usage had to be kept to a minimum after a break in the main water supply. For five days, we didn’t know how bad it was.

14 March 2023

A month later, as the East Coast slowly cleaned up the woody bones of its valleys and hillsides out of silt-packed river beds, the Willow Project was approved by US President Joe Biden.

These two things have no direct correlation. But the climate-change-natural-disaster wrought destruction was front of mind as I read about the 51 million barrels of oil that would come from drilling in Alaska on indigenous land, locking in carbon emissions for the next 30 years. The Willow Project is the biggest source of carbon emissions in the US, confirmed just two years before greenhouse gases need to peak, seven before they need to halve, in order to limit warming to the globally agreed upon target 1.5 degrees. 30 years.

It felt as if a stroke of the US President’s pen on the opposite side of the planet, in another country altogether, had fucked my community back home. Entirely.

Today

For a long time, my biggest fear was being cut off— either physically, or virtually—and alone. When that overdue earthquake finally hits Wellington, my biggest concern is being unable to contact home in Tairāwhiti (an 8 hour drive away). I’ve made lists for an emergency survival kit, and found out, very quickly, that survival gear comes at a cost too high for a student budget. I’ve looked at roading routes—how far would I have to walk to find friends and family in a Last of Us-esque scenario, if all the highways out of Wellington caved in.

My fear did come to pass, but in reverse. Cyclone Gabrielle cut off Tairāwhiti’s roading infrastructure. State Highway 2 through Napier and Wairoa was destroyed. On State Highway 35 North, the No 1 bridge between Tokomaru Bay and Tolaga Bay was ripped away by the wall of wood carried downstream by the Hikuwai River. The carnage looked as if it was created by

a bulldozer. The Waioeka Gorge turned out to be traversable, making passage for cargo vehicles during the State of Emergency. But during those first few days, we didn’t know if the valley had slipped away, again.

While we waited to hear, I had no choice but to go on with what daily life demanded of me—a plasma donation appointment, meetings with new staff in the Salient office, applications for training opportunities.

In the end, my worst fear—the unknown —didn’t manifest in some dystopian, The Day After Tomorrow-apocalyptic-type situation. It happened on any other day, and I had to keep going. The world didn’t end, and I couldn’t stop, no matter that all I could think about was if my grandparents had stoked sandbags.

That’s when it hit home for me: climate change will not cause some sudden societal collapse. There will be no final, permanent loss of contact with loved ones. We will have to keep going as the climate shifts around us. That doesn’t mean climate change won’t be catastrophic, cause destruction, or take people’s lives. It already has—the death toll from Cyclone Gabrielle rose through the days of no contact, taking 11 lives. It’ll take years to rebuild the damage.

There will be no ‘end of the world’ moment. We will have to live in whatever climate-altered world we create for ourselves. We will have to rebuild the world around us with every pillar that falls.

✦ ✦ ✦

“I’m trying to be really honest with myself and other people about the state of the climate crisis. Is the situation bad?” I ask.

“Absolutely. It’s hard to oversell how bad it is,” replies James Renwick. James is a professor in Physical Geography at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington, specialising in large scale climate variations. He’s been a leading voice in science communication for as long as I’ve been tuned in. He was a lead author for the 4th and 5th IPCC Assessment reports, and a coordinating author on the 6th Assessment report, released last year. This was the report that gave damning evidence on the dire state of the climate crisis. He also sits on the Climate Commission, contributing to the expert advice provided to the New Zealand Government on the path to a zero-emission Aotearoa.

James let me pick his brain on the science of climate change, in my attempt to take stock of the climate crisis. As of the last IPCC assessment, the Earth has warmed 1.1 degrees above pre-industrial temperatures. That's the baseline the IPCC uses, placed around 1750, pre-industrial revolution. This is unequivocally caused by human-made greenhouse gas emissions.

At 2 degrees of warming, the number of hot days roughly triples—hot days being by their local definition, because a hot day in Te Whanganui-a-Tara is more like a regular summer’s day in Tāmaki Makaurau. So in Te Whanganuia-Tara, James explains, that looks like 30 days above 25 degrees Celsius. At 3 degrees, it’s more like 3 months of hot days, some of which reach record temperatures. “Sydney and Melbourne are good examples. They’ve already hit days above 40 degrees, and have done so for a long time. As temperatures go up, the expectation is they’ll get days above 50 degrees before, well, the end of the century,” James says.

As temperatures increase, parts of the world—namely the tropics and the Pacific Islands—become uninhabitable. In Europe, we’ve already seen deathly heatwaves, with record temperatures breaking above 40 degrees Celsius.

But in Aotearoa, we are unlikely to get those kinds of extremes. Climate change here causes extreme rainfall and droughts. “One of the issues with climate change is, the warmer the air is, the more moisture it can hold,” James explains, causing extreme storms to happen at greater intensity.

The flip side of this is that as temperatures increase, we are prone to more frequent dry spells and longer drought periods. This dries out the soil, weakening its capacity to hold water. So when rain falls heavily, it can’t be absorbed by the ground, causing flooding.

“We’ve seen Cyclone Gabrielle on the East Coast, and the Auckland floods before that,” I say to James. “Can we reliably relate these storms to climate change?”

“We can—but it depends what question you’re asking,” James replies. “Often I hear people say, did climate change cause this event to happen? And that's not a sensible question. We've had extremes in weather forever. And climate change doesn't cause any particular weather event to happen. But it weights the dice and pumps up the amount of energy in the storm or even an individual thundercloud with moisture and heat.”

James and I share the experience of watching the Auckland floods unravel through social media. Seeing images of disaster in Aotearoa and within our biggest city can be surreal—no one expects the worst to happen to them. “It’s really sad that you need to have extreme weather events to [bring climate change] home to people,” James laments.

As we talk about the extremes we are on the trajectory to reach, I can’t help but think about the IPCC projection that, by current global commitments to reduce greenhouse gases, we will exceed 1.5 degrees of warming this century. I put the question to James. “For as long as I’ve been aware, 1.5 degrees has been the goal, the limit that we're going to stop at. But have we now surpassed the ability to limit warming to 1.5 degrees?”

“It’s hard to say for sure,” James starts. “My seat of the pants feeling is, yeah, it’s too late. We would have to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases incredibly fast from now. The last three [IPCC] reports have been saying that we need immediate, transformational change. And the latest report, it said again—we have totally run out of time.”

That doesn’t mean nihilism should kick in just yet. At whatever point we can stop emissions, it will be worth it, as each decimal point of warming is incrementally better than the next. There are thresholds, however, where changes are locked in. James explains that at 2 degrees of warming, there is strong evidence that the melting of the west Antarctic ice sheet, and 5 metres of sea level rise, would become irreversible. “That wouldn’t happen overnight. We’d have to relocate, spend trillions of dollars to do so, and it’s unimaginable how much disruption that would cause,” he says.

As someone who has been communicating the science for climate change for a long time, James says, “It’s been very frustrating.” Prior to the Covid-19 lockdowns, he was able to attend in-person meetings overseas for the writing of the 6th Assessment report. “There wasn’t a lot of optimism in the room, that’s for sure. But of course, doing something like writing an IPCC report, you do have to be optimistic. You have to believe it’s worth making the effort.”

That degree of optimism comes from the developments in legislation we’ve seen in Aotearoa, such as the Zero Carbon Act, setting up the Climate Commission, and putting in place a plan toward zero emissions.

As we talk, James and I look out the Salient office windows to a view of Wellington Harbour. James gestures that, here, we have the bones of a zero carbon future—green spaces are never far from the eye. And while progress is still to be made with public transport, most people in the CBD can live without a car.

“If a country like New Zealand can get to zero emissions,” James says, “and lead the world on that, a tidal wave of zero emissions, totally green energy production, it’ll be pretty inspiring.”

✦ ✦ ✦

I began writing this piece after the country was battered by cyclones, floods, and even more cyclones. My anger felt like it was directed at a brick wall. This spell transformed into a new existential crisis about our climate-altered world.

The movie Don’t Look Up brought many into existential dread— but it ends with a bland acceptance of fatality, leaving no room for imagination or creation. Earth will not be destroyed in a moment, as easy as it is to imagine it so. We will have to survive in the climate-altered world we create for ourselves. How bad it gets is up to governments, corporations, and policymakers. And us—how we choose to use our vote, voice our concerns, and embrace change. How will we cope with the years to come, as the situation gets worse and our ability to act is limited?

I want to translate this anger into imagination, in the hope that, under these dire circumstances, the pressure will create action. Looking at my home, our world, it feels so hard to imagine a climate-altered future where we have carved out new ways of living that aren’t so harmful. But over the course of this writing, a desire to imagine reappeared with persistence. This hope is born in communication— conversations about solar punk cities and foliage-covered railways. It’s alive in activist art featured in an climate exhibition.

I don’t know what the climate-altered world will look like in 2050. But I can imagine it. And as I start imagining, some of that world-ending pressure begins to lift.

Words by Kiran Patel (he/they)

or the most part, VuW: Meaningful Confessions adds a glimmer of silly goofiness to your Facebook feed, which is more often than not filled with Boomer humour (code for offensive) and your distant relative’s chronic oversharing. Occasionally, however, the tongue-in-cheek admissions are permeated by the slightly terrifying reality of our entire planet’s collapse. Cool cool cool.

On one particular morning, a confession aptly titled ‘what the fuck are any of us doing?’ popped up at the top of my feed, mere minutes before I was about to put on my big boy pants and start a 3000 word assignment. That familiar, cold emptiness I’d become accustomed to began circulating through my body.

“You think your BCom degree is gonna see you through the apocalypse?”

“What good is settling yourself up for retirement when there’s nothing to retire to?”

“Your vegan diet is a step in the right direction, but it’s like trying to obey the road code in Naenae, fucking pointless.”

Admittedly, the post might’ve just been the confirmation bias I needed to put off my assignment and even consider giving up on my little postgrad endeavour. But the daily purposelessness I feel every time the climate crisis rears its ugly head echoed vehemently in my psyche, targeting any hopes for ‘normality’ that I still hang onto. It’s an intrusion that’s all too familiar for our generation.

Although I reeled a bit after reading the post, it wasn’t the first time my thoughts had traversed into nihilism. In the late 1800s, philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche would see the decline of Christianity as a sign that “God is dead.” But although it was an observation on the rise of atheism, Nietzsche also

believed that the death of God meant the “transvaluation of all values.” Life would essentially be rendered meaningless without a shared morality.

Returning to the present, this confession basically exemplified how the climate crisis has turned his theory into praxis. Given how deep in the trenches we currently are, climate nihilism has become an ingrained reaction for many towards the helplessness of our situation. What’s the point of living if life has a fatalistic pointlessness? As I headed to uni to finish my pointless degree, I thought about every half-planned trip, potential career aspiration, and goal for the future that crumbles at the reminder of our magnitudinal doom.

Staring out at the uncharacteristically blue skies of Wellington on the bus, I recalled my first inklings of nihilistic numbness during the 2020 Australian bushfires. Imagery of the volcanic skies and apocalyptic scenery flashed through my vision like electric shocks. I shuddered at the memory of post after post of unmistakably grief-stricken animals clinging to each other while their entire habitat was destroyed. At the time, the harrowing news was punctuated by water cooler conversations with workmates about their housing renovations the very next day. My body shook with rage at everyone’s callous indifference to the planet’s fate, and yet I felt so enslaved by my own mundane uselessness. As I got off the bus, I bought my overpriced iced coffee and wondered whether the green bin needed to go out just as I had that day, allowing the world to burn around me.

Trudging through the city centre surrounded by shining examples of late-stage capitalism, I thought about how any real efforts we make at meaningful change is undermined by our fucked systems. Buying something from Amazon basically means you’re helping to cut down the actual Amazon rainforest. Everything we do is trapped inside a web of self-destruction.

We’re sold hope through greenwashed capitalism convincing locals that keep-cups and sustainability sections on fast fashion websites are the deus ex machina to prevent this crisis. In actual fact, we’re all sitting at the dinner table in the final scene of Don’t Look Up, patiently waiting for the destruction of our planet while debating the difference between supermarket-bought and home-made apple pie.

In the essence of Nietzsche: earth is dead. So what’s the point of anything?

In desperate need of a temporary dopamine hit with the fresh weight of meaninglessness, TikTok offered up something that could comfort me more than another hope-based industry, or Kourtney Kardashian as BooHoo’s sUsTaInAbIlItY aMbAsSaDoR being our saviour for humanity. For the first time, I considered that perhaps the solution to my climate nihilism lies less in a silver bullet and more in the person standing behind the gun. Maybe it’s the sign I needed to actually start embracing the uncertainty of our future.

Optimistic nihilism is the philosophy of accepting that everything is meaningless, but that it’s actually a pretty great thing. It puts the onus on you to make meaning of a meaningless existence, or as Jia Tolentino puts it, a “carte blanche to wild the fuck out.” So what if our lives are destined to come to a crashing end?

Time to get on the piss with your friends, go backpacking around Europe like you’ve always wanted to, and spend these stupid moments of insignificance with the people that you love. All the pressure of making something of your life is gone when life doesn’t mean anything.

Embracing optimistic nihilism doesn’t mean discarding basic human goodness and having the freedom to hurt people for your purposeless hedonism. And no, it’s not ideal that the destruction of our natural habitat is the thing that finally makes our lives feel meaningful. But at some point, we have to accept the fact that reality as we know it is already a facade. As long as the climate crisis is flippantly referred to as ‘one of those things' by our decision-makers and much of

meaningful life. Climbing up the career ladder or making things work in a toxic relationship goes out the window when the world’s on fire. Any perception of you is basically Thanos-snapped from existence.

On a more serious note, embracing the fact that our planet is doomed was, and still is, fucking scary. But acknowledging the fear of our collapse means that life is in fact meaningful. It means that we do have a purpose. And that purpose is to survive.

When we’re put in a situation where our survival is fundamentally threatened, your fight or flight instincts are probably ringing loud and clear. Optimistic nihilism finally offered me a path to let my fight overcome my flight. If you’re feeling the same, scream your lungs out! Break some windows! Tell your conspiracy theorist aunty that the climate crisis is already happening and we’re on track to experience its full wrath! Protest, get angry, protest some more! Allow yourself to finally disengage from the predominant narrative that shit’s all good, because it means that you don’t need to keep fighting what your body is telling you.

Living in a postmodern world already means we have to question every truth that’s ever been fed to us. But with the realisation that we’ll most certainly be dead in 50 years, it’s now or never to flip that nihilism switch, make meaning of what truly matters, and protect the certainty of our existence. Not to be cringey on main, or confess meaningfully, but all that really matters is us.

Words by Pippi Jean (she/her)

Climate change isn’t real,” I say to my friend, who takes an earbud out, nods, and agrees by saying, “Neither are women.”

“No,” I explain, with rising urgency. “Listen.”

Nobody understands. Since I was hit by the magic fairy godmother of god-fearing, fuck-damnit-in-fuck-science three minutes ago, I have been convinced there is no such thing as climate change. And I am going to prove it.

One week later, I’m in the office of Wokje Abrahamse, a senior lecturer at the VUW School of Geography, Environment and Earth Sciences with a PhD in Social and Behavioural Sciences.

“Are you aware,” I say, “climate change is not the biggest problem we have at the moment.”(Quote from Heather du Plessis Allan, editorial in the New Zealand Herald, 2020). She blinks at me. “Seriously!” I go on. “We are responsible in this country for only! About! Zero point one seven percent! Of global emissions!”* Okay, look, I’m not gonna argue climate change isn’t real, even though me and fairy godmother deeply believe it. But, get this. Climate change is a tiny goldfish swimming around in a goldfish bowl that I own.

“This is an argument that’s used a lot,” Wokje tells me. “Sure, on a global scale, New Zealand has low emissions compared to say, other, bigger countries. However, we have really high emissions per capita.”

So high, in fact, that New Zealand is in the top five Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries for total greenhouse gas emissions per capita. As of 2018, according to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) Data Interface, emissions per person in NZ were equivalent to 16.9 tonnes carbon dioxide (CO2-e) per capita.

“Per person, we have a really high ecological footprint, a really high impact on the planet. And that’s a real issue,” Wokje says.

So onto my next interviewee, Lila Madden. She’s events officer for the VUW Climate Clinic (@vuwclimateclinic on Instagram), a student group aiming to address the challenges and causes of the climate crisis. A third-year Geography, Environmental Studies, and Public Policy student, she’s been involved in climate activism throughout high school and university.

I pose her the same question as Wokje.

“Uh, that doesn’t neglect our ability or our accountability to still do what we can and ensure our country is climate resilient,” Lila says.

She goes on to explain that while we make up a small percent of global emissions, our high level of agricultural production means we produce a lot of methane and nitrous oxide, which has a greater warming effect compared with carbon dioxide. “And we still have a responsibility to our future generations. And especially like in te ao Māori, for tangata whenua, there's a responsibility to care for the land that we get all our resources from.”

I’ve gotta say, I’m starting to be like... what the hell am I doing? But before I can get too rational, the magic fairy godmother swoops in and whacks me on the head once again.

“Well,” I say to Jonathan Oosterman, climate justice activist and sociologist, and lecturer at the VUW School of Social and Cultural Studies. “Climate change is already here. Like, we’re doing okay, people are keeping their spirits up! We’re gonna be alright.” (John Roughan, the New Zealand Herald, Feb 2023).

“I'm totally up for talking about societal collapse as a possibility,” Jonathan replies. “You do have to acknowledge that huge numbers of people are suffering, and are going to suffer,” he tells me. “And we need space for all of our different emotional responses for this.”

Jonathan then talks to me about two opposing perspectives within environmental sociology. One camp of literature says we should avoid evoking fear, as it’s disempowering and not encouraging of climate action. The other camp argues that as long as you combine fear with efficacy, so that people can sense there are solutions, evoking fear in climate change messaging can actually be a positive thing. “Here’s the point,” he says. “If we do something, we can reduce the suffering.”

So, after that thrilling conversation, I pace the campus dejected for a couple of days. But, ya’know, as Dory says, “Just keep swimming.” Onto my next interviewee, Eva Davis, third-year English and Sociology student, who’s currently taking a class called ‘Literature of Ecology and Climate Change’ (ENGL 336).

I sit down with Eva and try to ply her with hot chips. I try the ‘she’ll be right’ argument on her, and she says, “Yeah, I feel like this definitely comes from a position of privilege.”

According to research on attitudes carried out by Ministry of Environment in 2018, about one in three New Zealanders are worried about climate change. There is support (61%) for the government to set a more ambitious emissions target. However, 48% of New Zealanders do not agree that climate change is likely to have a big impact on people like them. “To an extent you gotta be hopeful,” Eva tells me. “But there’s a line between a we-can-change-it thing, and a we’re-going-to-ignore-it thing.”

Okay, that is it. I am livid.

“It is slowly dawning on climate activists that the fight against global warming is lost,” I announce to my next interviewee in the middle of Cuba Street. “Their cause is… hopeless!”(Chris Trotter, The Daily Blog, Feb 2023).

“For climate change deniers,” says Woody Timalsina, who also goes by Jarrod Wood, Tree, and Bush Man. “I would say spend a little less time in your head and more time in your heart, and then you'll know what is right and wrong.” He lowers the volume of his speaker so that his voice, soft and delicate like the world’s most perfect ASMR artist, can be heard over the backing track for his saxophone solos. “Anything that is a challenge to life on earth, you should take it seriously and stop with the pseudo-intellectual claptrap type of stuff.” Then he gives me a high-five.

So. Dead end. What are my options? I turn to my fairy godmother, who has magically turned the size of a pillowcase and dissolved in the wind. I’m not sure where she came from or where she’ll go, but I’ll treasure our time together.

Or will I? I think back on my favourite moments with climate denialism. That time my friend sighed and put her earbud back in. That time my hot chip trick didn’t work. That time Tree gave me an encouraging-not-patronising high five, and then deliberately withheld his stash of free lollipops from me (I know he has them). The memories are uncomfy. I have to dig my heels in so they sit right. I have to cognitive dissonance myself into a tiny, fairy-sized ditch.

Will I miss fairy godmother? What did she ever do for me? Didn’t she make me feel excused, but not empowered? Totally reassured, but also helpless? Wasn’t I hit on the head a lot? What my friends said sounds a whole lot more real, for real. Climate change is serious. It will affect me. As threatening as it is, I can make a difference. Angrily, I breathe the air in her direction.

DISCLAIMER: Salient does not condone or share the views of climate denialists.

hen you hear the word ‘festival’, it’s not surprising that dancing, drinking, and glitzy costumes paired with unfashionable wrist bands are what first come to mind. Amongst the many selfies, long queues to the bathroom, and memories made, we don’t think of the countless plastic cups on the ground, the abandoned tents, or the excessive emissions used for transport.

The reality is, while music festivals and concerts seem like harmless, glittering fun, you'd be surprised how much waste these events create. Not so harmless, glittering, or fun. In this Woke™ age, sacrificing our climate for the sake of some entertainment does not pass the vibe check. Live music? More like live pollution.

Since these events aren’t great for the climate, it’s safe to say the hills really aren’t alive with the sound of music. They haven’t been for a while now. In 2019, each of the major US music festivals, such as Coachella, Stagecoach, and Desert Trip, generated around 100 tonnes of solid waste per day. For those of you who don’t math, that’s the same size as a singlestory house, or about 14 elephants! The Wellington Guns N’ Roses and Eminem concerts created four and two tonnes of waste each. At Soundsplash, over 500-600 tents were left behind, on top of a mass of food and drink litter.

Anyone remember Jack Johnson’s ‘The 3 R’s’ song from primary school? I reckon it’s about time we bring that bop back!

One company that is actively involved in the Wellington live music scene is Illumination and Optics Wellington (IOW). As you can guess from the name, they specialise in lighting,

LED screens, and projectors—the things that drive up costs for live music events. The growing climate impact from events has affected the way IOW plan their lighting. While energy usage has reduced, the plans have just become more detailed, and the math has gotten harder (but anything for mother nature!).

Morgan Whitfield, Director at IOW, said that regardless of the environmental impact, the rule of thumb is that “the larger the event, the more power we use, and the more remote the location, the higher the chance for the use of generators.” Morgan told me that IOW is “very aware of the pollution caused by large scale events”. With their larger gigs they “plug into the local grid” where they can, “instead of relying on generators”, which can be large emitters. ‘Lights Up’ by Harry Styles is starting to hit a bit differently now…

Another local organisation involved with large events is Nonstop Solutions. As an organisation, Nonstop Solutions actively works towards waste reduction, assisting event organisers to become more climate conscious. They do everything from conversing with “every food and drink vendor before an event [and] approv[ing] or finding alternatives for… their packaging.” “[We] form a relationship with [organisers] prior… so we can minimise what materials are coming onsite to begin with,” said a Nonstop Solutions Spokesperson.

Although progress is being made towards events using sustainable practices, the enthusiasm and openness to reducing climate-unfriendly practices ranges widely between organisations. While some organisations are just interested, there are some laws that require big events to have a strategy to minimise their waste, so “many are quickly realising that reducing their impact has shifted from a ‘nice to have’ to

Words by Lauren Pemberton (she/her)

a ‘need to have’.” In Nonstop Solution’s opinion, the New Zealand Government should be “introducing regulation and policy around the need for music festivals and events to have a waste minimisation plan and a post event report… and single use items [should be] banned.”

Nonstop Solutions’ advice for Salient readers who are avid music festival fans is to “find alternatives for as many non-recyclable, compostable, or reusable items as possible”. This could be things like a reusable water bottle, your own coffee cup, or some aesthetic eco-friendly containers (because who said you couldn’t be stylish while saving the planet). But most importantly, “there is so much power in letting your favourite events know that you want them to be more sustainable. Many events turn to our services if they feel their attendees want to see them being more sustainable,” they said. So, my friends, literally ‘sing out’ if you want events to change, or if they’re putting in the mahi.

Regardless of the climate-unfriendliness of past events, it looks like some are changing their tune to not muck up our climate any further. Coldplay’s Music of the Spheres Tour has made the “pledge to cut the tour’s direct emissions by more than 50% compared to our previous tour.” They are also being sustainability-savvy by offering discounts to fans who commit to low-carbon travel, and making the effort to plant one tree for every ticket sold in an effort to counter the tour’s carbon emissions—bloody brilliant! As part of the Auckland Arts Festival in March this year, one artist, Dan Roosegaarde, created a fantastic light show full of biodegradable sparks in the sky which didn’t create air pollution!

If the Jaffas can do it, so can we—and we are!

Splore and Cuba Dupa have also jumped on the bandwagon by implementing practices such as reusable cups for festivalgoers to take home, a focus on waste-reduction, recycling, and the use of solar power. Not all music festivals and events are terrible, and action is certainly being taken on a global and local scale.

While organisations are making an effort to implement better practices in their events, the biggest source of change ultimately comes from the party animals who attend them. So bestie, it’s up to you (yes you) to be ecoconscious while dancing the night away at your next boozefuelled concert. While music festivals and concerts seem like a nice excuse to get intoxicated in the presence of booming loud music to compliment the chaos, your fun isn’t great for the climate. Apologies to all the party animals and music fans. Love On Tour-goers, Solar Power Tour folks, and The 1975 At Their Very Best attendees, this one's for you. We go to big events and lose our voices. We don’t want to lose our climate too, but that’s the unfortunate reality!

It’s important to be mindful of how your actions affect the climate. I know, it’s largely the 1% and the big corp who are responsible for our climate disaster, and it can feel like individual action doesn’t do much. But, as consumers of the music industry, we have the power to influence it for the better. Like Nonstop Solutions says, we need to speak up, and tell our event providers we want them to be more sustainable. So screw it, make some noise for our planet! Let’s create more memories and less pollution. Be the ‘annoying friend’ who brings a reusable cup, walks to the venue, and doesn’t buy a new outfit for that night. Take it from me, saving the planet isn’t annoying. Afterall, concerts are one night, but our climate is forever.

If you’re keen to help towards a better future for our climate, consider becoming part of the Nonstop Solutions casual event crew for their exciting next event season!

Feel free to get in touch with them using the details below:

Web: nonstopsolutions.co.nz

Email: crew@nonstopsolutions.co.nz

Instagram: @nonstopsolutionsnz

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P ODCASTS

Words by Alex Marinkovich-Josey (he/him)

Talking about the climate crisis can be really overwhelming. We’re the generation everyone expects to fix things, but the issues just seem too big, complex, and interconnected. Where do we even start?

The first step is communication. There is an essential need for conversations about the climate, its changes, the crises, what it will take to set our planet on the right path, and how we can play a part in supporting ourselves in a climate-altered future. This week at Salient Podcasts, we’re bringing you the episodes from across our shows that talk about our climate crisis solutions, where our politicians are failing us, and the specific gaps in our current approach. So listen in, and remember that the change we need is possible! We may not be able to get back what we’ve lost, but we can adjust. If we embrace the changes in our world and prioritise caring for the planet.

How to Lose A Girl in 10 Days—‘Hot ‘n Cold’

Politicians talk the talk, but never walk the walk when it comes to climate change. They're super vague and say they will ‘better climate change policy’ without ever telling you what that even means. They want to be 'down with the youth' without putting in real effort. They also love to let farmers sweep their carbon emissions under the rug so they'll keep donating lots of money to their political campaigns. In this episode, co-hosts Hollie and Xandi talk to you about what climate change policies already exist, debunk all the myths, and cut all the shit that parties talk smack about. In this episode, you’ll learn what each party wants and get familiar with the basics of Climate X Government.

Rock Dog—‘Narratives of Ecology w/ Margo Montes de Oca’

Host Tharushi is joined by guest Margo, a fellow interdisciplinary traveller existing between the science and arts spaces. The two talk about narratives, and how different forms can mediate or express ecological concepts. This episode covers the need for interdisciplinary thinking, how art can support science to create solutions that address climate catastrophe, and how ecology as a discipline provides evidence of human-nonhuman interdependencies.

Stranger at Home—‘100% Pure NZ?’

To investigate the image of Aotearoa as an environmental haven, host Alex brings on his friend Michael to discuss conservation efforts across the country. Tourism marketing often brands Aotearoa as '100% Pure', depicting sweeping landscapes and images of flourishing wildlife. However, as Michael and Alex discuss, the effort to curate an ecofriendly image often leaves gaps and isn’t the full picture. The two discuss what work is needed here, alongside what makes the local ecosystems special to them.

Zeitgeist—‘Glass half full?’

Co-hosts Kate and Jess bring on Jesse Richardson, a local youth activist and campaigner, to chat about the mountain of issues facing younger generations. They talk about engagement, youth politics within the political landscape, the urgency of climate policy, and hating Jeff Bezos. Additionally, they talk about radical optimism: having hopes and dreams for the climate-altered future. Jesse shares his faith in humanity's ability to change our path and fight for the future.

Salient Podcasts Weekly

Find all these episodes and more on the Salient Podcasts Weekly Playlist, and follow to get your weekly fill of student podcasts!

WHAT TOP AOTEAROA

POLLUTER R U ?

What makes up your signature scent?

a) Cow farts and smoke

b) Vanilla and freshly laid concrete

c) Seaweed and toxic waste

d) Burnt rubber and oil spills

e) Muddy puddles and BBQ

What do you study?

a) Politics

b) Education

c) Commerce

d) Film

e) Agricultural Science

Who is your favourite musician?

a) Shakira

b) Taylor Swift

c) Ed Sheeran

d) Drake

e) Bob Dylan

What is your go-to beverage?

a) Whole, unpasturised milk

b) Cheap, slightly burnt coffee

c) The blood of dead sea animals

d) Monster Energy drink

e) Strongly brewed black tea from a thermos

What’s your ideal night out?

a) Poker with lobbyists and politicians

b) A charity wine-tasting event

c) Gaslighting, girlbossing, and gatekeeping

d) Burnouts at the street racing meet up

e) All-you-can-eat ribs with a whiskey pairing

Mostly As: Fonterra

“Farming is the backbone of our economy” is your favourite phrase to whip out at the dinner party. You love wearing gumboots and a Swanndri to parade as everyone's favourite uncle, distracting from the coal boilers and methane emissions that make you the biggest polluter in Aotearoa, producing 13.1 million tonnes of emissions in 2021.*

Mostly Bs: Z Energy

You need to do some self-reflection, bestie, because no amount of community programmes can make up for how you’re literally fucking over future generations. You’re the bougie bitch in the fuel retailing trio, but your clean-girl aesthetic is hiding a twofaced interior and 6.8 million tonnes of emissions.* If you're going to be in the business of killing the planet, own it.

Mostly Es: Silver Fern Farms

You exist in an echo chamber and you need to be more open to other people’s perspectives. Stop judging your mate for their Impossible Burger, and don’t walk out on a first date just because they’ve revealed themselves to be vegan. Your meat exporting caused 4.7 million tonnes of emissions in 2021—have you ever considered diversifying into hydroponics?*

Mostly Cs: BP

Even Ursula hates you, BP. When you’re contribution to the climate crisis makes you worse than a Disney villain, you know you’ve fucked up. Stop blaming others for your toxicity and problematic behaviour, and then you might make some friends. Instead of telling consumers to use your carbon footprint calculator, maybe do some calculating about the 4.9 million tonnes of emissions you contributed to Aotearoa.*

Mostly Ds: Mobil

You are the edgy bitch of the fuel retailers in Aotearoa, loved by broke students and bogans alike. You know you're warming the planet while you line your pockets with the pennies of broke drivers, and you don’t pretend otherwise. Your 4.7 million tonnes of emissions make you a bad person, but at least you know it. *

*Figures are from 2021 data published by the Environmental Protection Authority (EPA), using data companies have to provide by law. To see the full top ten climate polluters, check out ‘New Zealand's biggest climate polluters, ranked’ via Stuff.

Words by The Salient Quizzard (quiz/quizzle)

PATA WAI

CW: Cyclone Gabrielle

Water is one of the most important elements to all beings on earth. It is sacred to many cultures. In my family, us Vietnamese consider the ocean surrounding us to be the ancient root of life, wisdom, and wealth. That ocean births and feeds, gives and takes. Every drop of water is a treasure, and as far as I can remember, that was the first knowledge my elders ever passed down to me.

In Te ao Māori, we consider water to be just as tapu, every body of water has its own mauri and wairua. Each individual has a connection to their roto, awa, and moana. Nō reira, acknowledging te mana o te wai is indispensable.

“Ko Oakura me Waitara ōku awa Ko au te wai, ko te wai ko au”

As the climate continues to change, the intensity of storms is likely to increase. A warmer climate increases rainfall, hence sea level continues to rise. Those effects together add up to a greater possibility of flooding, especially in coastal areas. Seeing those who have an indescribable connection to their wai suffering when their awa gets destroyed is absolutely heartbreaking. Like how Mangahauini river in Tokomaru was washed away after flooding in Cyclone Gabrielle not long ago. No one deserves to go through the pain of losing a sacred part of their identity. I count myself as lucky since my awa weren’t affected. They are in the place where my ancestors grew up, where all of our mātauranga Māori come from.

The proverb above literally translates to “Forest is gold, ocean is silver”. I recite it to show how valuable the ocean is to the people of my island—Phú Quốc. We are surrounded by silver, the type of silver that you can’t just sell to become rich. The richness it bears is humble yet mighty. Still, a lot of people don’t appreciate what we consider our most precious gift. The ocean has been suffering for a long time from pollution, rapid development of industry, and the abuse of tourism by many organisations. All they care about is the profit.

As I said before: the ocean doesn’t just give, it also takes. I was devastated last time when I visited the island. The whole town was drowned in flood for days—sea water, rain water, and polluted water all mixed in one. The locals had to suffer terrible physical and mental damage.

Who's it to blame? Not the ocean, but mainly the shit caused by us humans. Deforestation, poor awareness of people, houses built blatantly encroaching on streams and rivers. Some people even built houses on the canal to block the drainage. A few years ago, the beautiful big beaches were still wild and empty. Now, they are divided into lots of tens or hundreds of hectares to be sold among investors. Heaps of construction is still going on throughout the whole island, regardless of nature’s response.

Yes, disaster happens and that’s normal. But when will we stop ignoring the fact that every terrible thing we do to the environment has an impact on the frequency of disasters and the outcome?

Chur,

Huy

“Rừng vàng, biển bạc.”

Words by Te Huihui o Matariki Chí Huy Tran (he/him; Taranaki, Te iwi o Maruwharanui)

Dear Aunty Vic

We all know that completely codependent couple who have, essentially, become one person. They share all the same emotions and are booked into the same schedule.

First of all, congratulations. You’re self aware and have recognised that you’ve been neglecting your other relationships.

You’ve identified the issue—the next step is to take action. I would suggest communicating this to your friends and flatmates. Whether it's face-to-face or over text, tell them you miss and care about them! Friendships, like any relationship, require mutual effort. Sending a single text saying “Hi… I miss you :( Can we catch up soon?” is enough to get the ball rolling. Find a time, make a plan, and commit to it (no cancelling just because your S/O wants to cuddle).

I can empathise though. When you and your partner have been accustomed to spending, say, every night together, any change in that routine might feel like you’re deliberately avoiding them! This is where open and honest communication with your partner becomes crucial. Let them know that they’re not doing anything wrong, you just miss your besties.

.AIf you find yourself having to justify why you want to spend time with your friends, that’s a sign that your partner is possessive. I would be gravely concerned if your partner cannot understand why having dinner with friends is important to you. A healthy relationship is one where both parties can respect the importance of having other relationships (flatmates, family, friends).

Next step: to make time for all the important people in your life, you’ll need to get organised. Everyone's newly-adult lives get busier. Schedules become packed, priorities differ, and relationships, as a result, get complex. Treat maintaining your relationships like a job, schedule time for them in your calendar, and take it seriously. Don't just casually say you'll catch up with someone without making concrete plans, it likely won't happen.

Even if you manage your time efficiently, you'll still need to decide who to prioritise. The best approach is to consider who energises and brings you the most joy after spending time with them. If you leave a hangout feeling drained, it might not be the best use of your time and energy. Treat your time and energy as a valuable commodity. Invest it in those who will provide the most value in return.

For all I know, you may be spending most of your time with your boyfriend because your friends are toxic, dull, or draining. If that’s the case, don’t beat yourself up for spending all your time with your man, it’s okay! Maybe it’s time to go on a frienddetox and look into the other areas of your life where you could build some core connections.

Q.

I feel like I spend too much time with my boyfriend, and not enough time with my friends and flatmates. How do I balance it all?

Pasifika Students’ Council

CW: Effects of Nuclear Weapons.

T“here are only 90,000 of them out there. Who gives a damn?”

- Henry Kissinger, former US Secretary of State.

When you think of Tahiti, you probably imagine beautiful black-sand beaches, ripe and ready coconuts, and smiling women with flowers behind their ears and colourful sarongs wrapped around their waists. This is not the Tahiti I know.

I spent my childhood in Huahine, a small island off of Tahiti, riddled with poverty. I remember the main street littered with stray pieces of plastic food wrapping, emaciated dogs so skinny you could count their ribs, and old shirtless vāhine wearing stained bras with the underwires poking out and stabbing their skin.

We were lucky, though. We grew up in a lovely fare close to the beach. But my Grand-père and Grand-mère lived on the main island in Pirae, in a small concrete house with my two aunties, my uncle, and three cousins.

My Grand-père was a beautiful old man. He was quiet and would spend his afternoons beneath the banana tree, a cigarette in one hand and the Bible in the other. Most children grow up with cute stories about their grandparents. How they met in a little Parisian café in the 60s, or how they were highschool sweethearts, married for 50 years and counting.

The story I grew up with was my Grand-père stationed in the Tuamotu islands during the French nuclear testings. How he saw his best friend, who had been exposed to nuclear waste, scratch his leg down to the bone.

This story has haunted my nightmares ever since. How could this possibly happen to my beautiful people, my beautiful family? What did we do to deserve, as of 2012, the highest rates of thyroid cancer and myeloid leukaemia in the world? What did we do to deserve no ‘maximum radiation dose limit’? What did we do to deserve 5844 tonnes of radioactive materials just dumped into our precious moana?

The last time I saw my Grand-père, his skin had turned grey, he was covered in sores, and he had gone blind in one eye. This was not the beautiful old man I knew. The doctor said this was caused by the ongoing effects of the radiation. In 2021, when he died, the doctor said the same thing.

French Polynesia wasn’t the only one. The Marshall Islands (Bikini and Enewetak Atolls), Johnston Atoll, Kazakhstan, Novaya Zemlya (home to the Nenets people), Lop Nur (home to the Uygur people), Australia (in the lands of the Maralinga Tjarutja people), Algeria, Tuvalu, Kiribati, Hiroshima, Nagasaki.

With Indigenous populations around the world, and especially in the Pacific, there’s a malicious narrative that we are a small, dependent, and needy people. And, because we’re such a tiny population compared to the rest of the world, we can be sacrificed for the ‘greater good’—a phrase we’re all too familiar with.

Our moana feeds us. Many of us back in the islands still rely on the gifts of the sea to provide nutrition and nurture. But what do we do when our life-force is poisoned? And what will we do when our ocean engulfs and drowns us?

We are tangata o le moana. We come from the sea, we are nurtured by the sea, and we will return to the sea. To poison our moana is to poison our people. And that is the blood of millions.

Words by Mauatua Fa’ara-Reynolds (she/her)

TANGATA O LE MOANA

Manawa Ora

FYI: CLIMATE ACTIVISM INCLUDES YOUR OWN WELLBEING

Words by Cileme Venkateswar (she/her)

Being at university can feel like you’re so close to being given the keys to the kingdom. Every year you're arming yourself with a new awareness of what it means to exist in the world—all you need now is to be given the opportunity to change it.

Every so often, it all comes crashing down with the reminder that being a fired-up and resolutely determined university student isn’t quite enough. Not against the world’s billionaires, apathetic politicians, capitalist industries, and the ebbs and flows of fascism.

It’s hard to feel like our own self-care is justified when we’re seeing the impacts of climate change in Aotearoa before our eyes. The insane rainfall last winter, cyclones this past summer, and tornados hitting the country. But activist work comes from a community that you can’t help if you’re burning yourself out to the point of hopelessness and your own apathy.

When it comes to climate change anxiety and ecoanxiety, maintaining your wellbeing follows many of the same tenets as dealing with activist burnout.

• Care for your body and mind (try using Te Whare Tapa Whā model to identify your needs and how they can be met).

• Create healthy boundaries with your activism, scheduling time to focus on these issues so that they don’t consume your entire life, especially as a student.

• Develop a balanced relationship with media and social media to avoid becoming disillusioned with your climate activism.

• Remember that you are not the only person working towards your cause—you aren’t alone.

Build a community to keep you motivated, and with whom you can share wins and losses.

• Create the support system you need to maintain your activism, whether this includes a therapist or other spaces where you can step away from climate change work.

• Keep track of the wins because they’re real, they’re happening, and they matter!

Indigenous communities have been bearing the brunt of global warming and climate change for centuries—never giving up, and never deciding it’s too late or they won’t be able to make a difference. Find the people in climate activist spaces who understand the value of patience and fortitude in creating change, and indigenous activists are always a good place to start. Look for the MPs and city councillors who are committed to these issues too. Vote for them in elections so that they have longterm opportunities to make change.

Get involved in protests, rubbish clean-ups, adjust your diet as you feel comfortable doing if it helps alleviate eco-anxiety, and commit to public transport over your own vehicle. We need large-scale institutional, economic, and political change to happen worldwide to truly make a difference to climate change. But that doesn’t mean your individual choices don’t matter, contribute, or provide you with a sense of purpose.

And finally, remember that the victories are rarely reported on as much as the concerns. Find a source that updates you on the wins—one of my favourites is the Good News Network’s climate tag!

If you go away from this with anything, let it be this: you’re not alone, this fight isn’t helpless, and what you do matters, even (and especially) when it doesn’t feel like it.

Ocean’s Child

Words by Flynn Rodger (he/they)

It’s the early morning and we’re alone in the world. Nothing but quiet roads and an overcast have woken up Warm brine and cold water, it takes first our feet And then our hands

A dance incomplete, skin covered in sand

The heat of your body seeps into my chest Ocean’s child, eyes dark like the deep Brown and green on the water, the swaying of the sea The tide pulls at your legs, Anchors you with its breadth You lie on your back, It holds you to the sky.

All water blackened hair and chill bitten skin; Soft marks on your cheekbones; Refracted sunlight caught in your eyes.

It’s a cold morning in May and we’re alone in the world

Nothing but watching you slip through the shallows around me

Let me fall in love

With the winter water

The taste of salt, something ancient and undying

With a child of sea and storm

I kiss the unknown.

Does someone owe you money? I usually don’t say this, but stop being so generous. They, for sure, are not planning on paying you back.

Taurus is getting some clout this week. This is a viral TikTok moment for you, or an Instagram post with four digits worth of likes. The attention won't last long, so don’t drop out to pursue your influencer career just yet.

This is gonna be a fucking week for you. You’ll have an epiphany about your self-destructive behaviour ($80 on weed a week=not good), you’ll have the best op shop haul of your life, and then a cutie will hit on you at work.

You’ll construct the best break-up fit of your life. He’ll be crying into his starter whilst you’re sitting there, lashes done, wearing your latest Recycle Boutique purchase, and the fur coat you fought tooth and nail for at last week's clothes swap.

Ha ha. Someone has to do a speech and they’re not looking forward to it. Sucks to suck. My social anxiety could never. Oh well. You’ll get a good grade.

Poor, easily embarrassed Virgo. Someone in your friend group has a crush on you and they’re telling everybody. Other friends, colleagues, fellow students, strangers. No one’s off limits. Their proclamations will be constant and everywhere.

God, you are just so tired of people only thinking about your looks. Must be hard, huh? If only they knew there was more to you. People don’t understand how hard it is to be pretty

Oh wow, another identity crisis for Scorpio. What else is new? Calm down. Breathe. You don’t need to have an ego death everytime you notice your taste in music has slightly changed.

Are you arguing with your S/O over house shit?

I’m seeing petty arguments about whose house you spend more time at, or maybe someone always leaves their dishes in the sink. It’s annoying, but don’t break up over it.

This is a good week for meeting the love of your life hehehe. Or maybe just someone real cute. That’s it. That’s the horoscope.

So, you went for it and it didn’t work out. Chin up chicky. It’ll end up okay. It’s not deep— try whatever it is again later. Shit feelings don’t last forever.

Alright, I’m gonna do something I don’t do often and give you some validation. That argument you had with your flatmate? You were right. They have a bit of a shit-don’tstink attitude and you weren’t being unreasonable.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

I only knew Ken from afar. I didn't know Ken from within and if I'm being really honest, I doubted my Kenergy. I didn't see it, but Margot and Greta, they conjured this out of me somehow.

Ryan Gosling, talking about his role in the upcoming live-action Barbie movie, directed by Gerta Gerwig.

On Top of the World

ACROSS

1. German word heard after a sneeze (10)

6. Brainstorming result (4)

10. Painter famous for his garden of water lilies in Giverny, France (5)

11. Echoes; makes an impact psychologically (9)

12. Michigan city where you can visit the Motown Museum (7)

13. Unit for a binge-watcher (7)

14. Suffering from acrophobia (6,2,7)

17. Cancels out (7)

20. Tells a story; empathises (7)

22. Italian explorer who traveled the Silk Road in the 1200s; swimming pool game (5,4)

23. Only state in the USA to border exactly one other state (5)

24. Scottish loch with a famous monster (4)

25. Temperature scale where water boils at 212 degrees (10)

DOWN

1. Streamed on Twitch, probably (5)

2. 'Come Fly with Me' singer Frank (7)

3. As well as (3,2,7)

4. He says "Goodnight, sweet prince" to Hamlet in Act V (7)

5. Problem; printing of Salient (5)

7. Purple blob Pokemon that can transform into any creature (5)

8. What you're writing in this grid (7)

9. 'The ___________' (H. G. Wells novel or its 2020 film adaptation) (10,3)

14. Word that can follow 'Mr.' or 'Enter' in the titles of hit songs (7)

15. Port; actor David of 'Stranger Things' (7)

16. Drake hit, '_____ Bling' (7)

18. Microbes (5)

19. Italian restaurant on Cuba Street known for its hot chocolates (5)

21. Perspire (5)

✦ NGĀ MIHI ✦

THE TEAM

CO-EDITOR

Maia

CO-EDITOR

DESIGNER

Bella

SUB-EDITOR

SENIOR STAFF WRITER

CHIEF REPORTER

ARTS & CULTURE WRITER

Phoebe Robertson (she/her)

Ethan Rogacion (he/him)

Flynn Rodgers (he/they)

Puck (cross/word)

Xavier Farrow-Francis (he/she/they)

Ella Hoogerbrug (she/her)

STAFF WRITER

EDITORIAL SUPPORT

Joanna Fan (she/her)

Te Huihui o Matariki Chí Huy Tran (he/ him; Taranaki, Te iwi o Maruwharanui)

Cileme Venkateswar (she/her)

Anonymous Clown (any/all)

CENTREFOLD ARTIST

Antipodes Sale (she/they) @sylk.iies

PODCAST MANAGER

DESIGN & VIDEO INTERN Lauren

Francesca Pietkiewicz (she/they)

Ingoe (she/her)

Maresca (they/them) @cupids.kiss

Willem Koller (he/they)

VIDEO CONTENT CREATOR Seren Ashmore (he/him)

SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER

Alex Marinkovich-Josey (he/him)

Ethan Manera (he/him)

NEWS EDITOR Zoë Mills (they/she)

NEWS EDITOR Niamh Vaughan (she/her)

Bridget Scott (she/her)

Tessa Keenan (she/her)

Pippi Jean (she/her)

Jessica Arndt (she/her)

Pemberton (she/her)

POETRY

&

STAFF WRITER