Salient EAT THE RICH
Vol. 83
Issue 09
11 May 2020 1
Contents EDITORIAL.......................................................................................................................................................................................... 03 LETTERS
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NEWS It's High Time We Began Thinking About Cannabis..................................................................................................................... 05 Social Media–Harmful to WCC and Other Public Reps?.............................................................................................................. 06 Unemployment Woes for Students Under Level 3....................................................................................................................... 07 In Case You Missed It........................................................................................................................................................................ 08 Opinion................................................................................................................................................................................................. 10 In Other News...................................................................................................................................................................................... 11
FEATURES Shiny Happy People............................................................................................................................................................................ 12 You're So Vain...................................................................................................................................................................................... 16 Breaking the Fast................................................................................................................................................................................ 20 Stick it to the Man............................................................................................................................................................................... 22 CENTREFOLD
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POETRY
COLUMNS Going Nowhere.................................................................................................................................................................................. Liquid Knowledge.............................................................................................................................................................................. Off Record........................................................................................................................................................................................... Bachelor of Parenting....................................................................................................................................................................... VUWSA................................................................................................................................................................................................ UniQ..................................................................................................................................................................................................... REVIEWS The Clothes Off a Man's Back The Adams Family Uni Responses to COVID-19
We Watched Cats High So You Didn't Have To
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Salient is funded by VUWSA, partly through the Student Services Levy. Salient is kinda, sorta editorially independent from VUWSA. It’s a long story. Salient is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA). The perspectives and opinions in any issue of Salient do not necessarily reflect those of the Editors.
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ENTERTAINMENT Occupation Station Horoscopes
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Complaints regarding the material published in Salient should first be brought to the Editors. If displeased with the Editors’ response, the complaint should then be brought to the Media Council. Complaints should be directed to info@ mediacouncil.org.nz.
Editorial DEFAMATION IS HARD TO PROVE Would you believe us if we told you that we plan these themes over a month in advance? The irony of this week’s theme has not escaped us. But do you think empty threats from Big Vic are going to stop us? Fuck. Naw.
In an attempt to get the halls debacle out of the headlines, Vic has just announced to all media (except us) that senior staff are taking pay cuts. We love meaningless PR moves.
The truth is, we’re getting fucked by the rich and powerful at all times. Eating the rich is a plausible survival method any ol’ day. Not just when it’s happening right under our noses.
Grant made $587,000 in 2019, meaning his salary this year will be around about $469,000. Grant will still make more than our lord and saviour, Dr Ashley Bloomfield, and that is the biggest crime of all.
We’re all academics here and you knew that already. We once had a lecturer at Vic tell us we weren’t academics until we had a PhD. Bro also tried to convince us that the mayori were responsible for most of the deforestation of New Zilin.
Should we be worried that Vic removed us from their PR list? Probably. Are we gonna come crawling back to them for forgiveness? Probably. We’re nothing if not simps for getting you the information you’re entitled to.
Basically what we’re saying is for $50,000 we’ll be calling ourselves whatever the fuck we like and you should too.
Before we send you off into this chaotic issue, here’s how we’d eat the rich (for legal reasons, this is a joke).
Salient is at the literal asshole of the liberal, Wellington bubble. Apparently, this qualifies us to have an opinion on just about anything. So this week, we’re letting our inner ~discourse~ rip.
Kirsty: I’m passionate about ethical eating, so they’d have to be sustainably caught using legal entrapment methods. Pan seared, medium-rare.
If by some grace of god you missed the epic showdown between Vic and students in halls in the last two weeks, then fuckin’ power to you. You clearly have the good sense to avoid the cesspit of social media at the moment.
Rachel: Boil up.
The tldr: Vic agrees to briefly halt the milking of students for everything they’re worth. Dw, they’ll be back at it soon though—they don’t call us cash cows for nothin!
Kirsty Frame (she/her) Rachel Trow (Kāi Tahu, Ngāti Tūwharetoa | she/her)
After kicking students out of the Halls of Residence with less than 48 hours notice, Vic kindly paused fees during the crisis period. Big Vic gave himself a pat on the back because the bar is literally in the seventh circle of hell. Then, right before the long weekend, Vic emails most halls students saying they’ll need to start coughing up the cash in a matter of days. They would’ve gotten away with it too if it weren’t for some amazing leadership and the strongest mobilisation of students we’ve ever seen at Vic. It was a big win. But we’re only cautiously optimistic. Vic tends to wine ‘n’ dine us right before it fucks us. Don’t believe anyone who tells you Vic gives an iota of a fuck about the people living or working in halls. Fun fact: Grant accidentally called the halls, ‘Halls of Revenue’ instead of ‘Halls of Residence’ during an interview we had with him the first week of lockdown. It was the ultimate Freudian slip.
K&R in their bougiest, borrowed get-ups infiltrating the ASPA Awards, 2019
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Letters Young Matt I’ve written you a haiku:
dancing in your dunks like a pigeon on the loose not quite born again
Happy birthday & lots of love Sally
A big ol’ Rā Whānau, Happy Birthday to our Salient TV Creative Director, Charlie! Lots of love from the whole team xx
GOT A PITCH FOR SALIENT? SEND YOUR RECKONS TO: •
Poetry: poetry@salient.org.nz
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Reviews: reviews@salient.org.nz
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News: news@salient.org.nz
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Centrefolds: designer@salient.org.nz
Everything else—features, columns, creative writing, prose, shenanigans: editor@salient.org.nz
Did we do something right? Something wrong? Enlighten us. Send through your letters to editor@salient.org.nz
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LETTERS
News
MONDAY 11 MAY 2020
It’s High Time We Began Thinking About Cannabis ANNABEL MCCARTHY | TE WHAKATŌHEA | SHE/HER
In four months’ time, New Zealanders will have the opportunity to decide whether the country legalises recreational cannabis. The Government has just released the finalised Cannabis Legalisation and Control Bill we’ll be voting on come election time, but at 150 pages long, it isn’t exactly a light read. Lucky for you, Salient has done the research.
"This Bill places stronger restrictions on cannabis use than currently exist for alcohol and tobacco."
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A cap on national production to reduce overall consumption
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A restriction on production so businesses can only produce up to 20% of the national supply
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A ban on importing, exporting, or selling cannabis online
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A ban on advertising or promoting sales outside premises
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A restriction so only specialised cannabis shops can sell cannabis
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A tax on cannabis products, including a higher excise tax for higher potency products, a levy to be put towards harm-reduction programmes and education, and GST
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Limits on potency and standards of quality
What does this Bill hope to achieve? Essentially, this piece of legislation seeks to minimise cannabis related harm. Like alcohol and tobacco, cannabis poses a series of health risks to users, particularly those who use it daily or too early in life. By legalising and regulating the drug, the aim is to control access to cannabis, treat it as a health issue and “reduce overall cannabis use and limit the ability of young people to access cannabis,” as Justice Minister Andrew Little put it. How will this be achieved? This Bill places stronger restrictions on cannabis use than currently exist for alcohol and tobacco. Under the proposed regime, only those over the age of 20 years can legally use cannabis and a purchase limit of 14g a day will also be enforced. Additionally, cannabis use will be permitted only in private homes or licensed premises, and individuals can grow just two personal plants, or up to four per household. Other aspects of the Bill include: •
A requirement for commercial operations to hold a license and meet a “responsible person” test, in which a criminal record for cannabis possession may not be disqualifying
How will the Bill affect Māori? Under the new Bill, a Cannabis Regulatory Authority will also be established to oversee the cannabis market and ensure harm is being reduced. The Authority will be required to include iwi and Māori representation with appropriate expertise. It is also required to have regard for social equity principles when allocating cannabis cultivation licenses. These principles include partnering with communities disproportionately harmed by cannabis, such as Māori, and promoting employment and career opportunities for Māori. Criticisms The NZ Drug Foundation has raised concerns over the proposed limit of 15% THC—the main psychoactive ingredient—on dried cannabis. Director Ross Bell believes this is too high a restriction, noting that cannabis on the black market in New Zealand generally contains 6-8% THC. What does VUWSA say? Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association said it welcomes the opportunity to legalise and control cannabis
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and will be advocating for students to vote in favour of the Bill in the referendum. Engagement Vice President Joanna Li told Salient she supports a harm reduction approach to drug use as “prohibition has simply not worked and has disadvantaged a lot of individuals”. “The fact is that many students are already smoking cannabis, and criminalisation is not going to reduce usage,” she said.
“The Bill not only specifies that the strength of each product and its exact contents need to be explicitly stated, it also legislates for specific spaces where people can try it, and know they are safe and will be taken care of should things go wrong,” she said. “It means that students can make an informed choice about deciding to use, and in the case they do, they can do so in a safe and supportive environment.”
Social Media—Harmful to WCC and Other Public Reps?
TE AOREWA ROLLESTON | NGĀTI RANGINUI, NGĀI TE RANGI | SHE/HER
Councillor Diane Calvert has lodged a formal complaint against Paul over a social media post. Image: WCC
Social media plays a key role in connecting elected representatives with the wider community. In these current circumstances of a global pandemic, this has proved to be a necessity. Following a conflict between Councillor Diane Calvert and Councillor Tamatha Paul discussed widely on Facebook, there are questions around the harm that can come to public representatives from social media. This was reflected recently when National leader Simon Bridges posted to Facebook condemning the Government’s pandemic response to an overwhelmingly negative reaction. This highlights the link between social media and the role of the public as a jury in online discussions. Salient has contacted Wellington City Council Mayor, Andy Foster, and several of his fellow Councillors to discuss how social platforms have influenced their professional work. Councillor Tamatha Paul commented on her involvement on social media saying, “I think [social media] adds value [...] across different platforms you can engage with different communities”. In regards to the possibility of there being more guidelines needed for elected members who use social media,
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Paul explained that this would be concerning for freedom of speech. Mayor Andy Foster responded to Salient in regards to the benefit and harm that social media can bring to the professional work of elected members, saying, “[Social media platforms] certainly allow more information to get out and that’s valuable, the risk of cause is that information may either be partial or inaccurate and depends on whether you’ve got a full picture of any given situation.” “[Social media platforms] are very powerful tools but with those powerful tools comes responsibility.” Councillor Jill Day also shared a response to Salient explaining that, “Overall though the benefits outweigh the challenges. I have had positive experiences on social media with a few minor issues.” “I do think that more can be done to develop guidelines to help people be safe and interact appropriately online [...] I believe that anything that helps the community be able to interact with community leaders is beneficial.” Councillors Diane Calvert, Teri O’Neil, and Simon Woolf were not able to return a comment to Salient for publication.
Unemployment Woes for Students Under Level 3 TESSA PORTER | SHE/HER & TE AOREWA ROLLESTON | SHE/HER | NGĀI TE RANGI, NGĀTI RANGINUI
The rocky state of employment for students throughout the lockdown period has triggered a major demand for financial assistance to ease the pressure of paying for essential costs such as rent and weekly expenses. VUWSA has told Salient that, “VUWSA supports NZUSA’s
petition for the Government to introduce a Universal Education Income and we encourage students to also sign”. The current system puts students into great debt and too often, poverty. “Students should be able to focus on their studies and their tertiary experience.” Salient spoke to an essential worker, Isabella Haworth, who has been working to cover her rent costs for her flat while also being a second year law student. “I was working 5 times a week at the peak of lockdown [...], and was extremely tired afterwards, but [...] I dedicated my time outside of work to get on top of my papers.” Salient reached out to a student who has become unemployed, Azaria Howell, who shared that after losing her job, she is uncertain about the work she will be able to get once the levels move down further.
“This has made it a lot more difficult for me to finance my studies and pay my Hall costs.”
“Students should be able to focus on their studies and their tertiary experience.” A student hospitality worker, Inès Delgado Perez, explained they’ve depended on the 12 week wage subsidy which they were grateful to receive from their employer. In a statement to Salient, VUW responded to the uncertainty that students are facing with finances and unemployment saying: “The University has uncapped its Hardship Fund and has already paid $500,000 in support of students this year.[...] the University has also supported calls for the Government to provide an emergency hardship fund or a universal student allowance.”
The desolate street of Courtney Place.
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The Highs and Lows of Grant Guilford’s
Presentation to the Epidemic Response Committee RACHEL TROW | KĀI TAHU, NGĀTI TŪWHARETOA | SHE/HER
Grant Guilford speaking in his presentation.
Vice-Chancellor Guilford presented to the Epidemic Response Committee last week, representing the tertiary education sector at the education-focused session. Here’s a rundown of all the best and worst bits with varying degrees of detail. Because you definitely missed it. Warning: contains references to the “international education baby” being thrown out with the bathwater for reasons unbeknownst to Salient. Opening statement Guilford first covered a few points he felt universities had handled well throughout the pandemic. Stating that “most students will still be able to graduate on time”. Guilford commended the blended model of most New Zealand universities which “were quickly able to shift the balance of physical and virtual delivery to maintain students’ academic progress”. Guilford also highlighted that the teaching and learning model “has proved to be resilient” and that “student support services are also able to be successfully moved online”. Despite the economic circumstances, Guilford stated that universities had worked well to support their students financially. For VUW specifically, Guilford explained, “We uncapped the budget of our hardship fund so any student who needs support can get it, that support now stands at $500,000. We’ve also subsidised student accommodation by over $5 million, committed to continuing to pay student scholarships, totalling approximately $20 million, and maintained many hundreds of students in part-time roles by continuing to pay tutors, research assistants, and RAs.”
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In areas where the tertiary education sector wasn’t faring well, Guilford commented that “university revenue has significantly reduced on all fronts”. “For the University sector as a whole, we are anticipating a swing from a collective surplus of $115 million prior to COVID to a collective loss of $397 million in 2021 and an adverse swing of over half a billion dollars.” Guilford focused particularly on the loss of revenue from international students. Guilford stated that “there appears to be a growing risk that the international education baby will be thrown out with the COVID-19 bathwater”. Yikes. Guilford then pitched a few ways the government could assist universities such as emergency funding, Universal Student Allowance to support students through the pandemic, and “perhaps even a virtual reincarnation of the University of New Zealand” to bolster New Zealand universities in the international market.
“There appears to be a growing risk that the international education baby will be thrown out with the COVID-19 bathwater” Finally, Guilford explained that “to reduce reliance on international students to fund world-class universities in New Zealand, Government can help by significantly increasing tuition subsidy rates”.
Question 1: Hall Fees Simeon Brown (National) Brown thanked Guilford on behalf of all New Zealand students for changing his mind about charging students for empty rooms in halls, before asking how the government can help get other universities to the same position. Guilford first outlined who is responsible for students’ living costs, stating that it was “first and foremost students and their families” before it was the responsibility of the Government. It was then the responsibility of the Universities. Citing all New Zealand universities’ increased accessibility to their hardship funds, Grant stated that universities were supporting all students in doing so, “not just a small proportion that are in our Halls of Residence”. “In my University, we’ve spent $500,000 through our student hardship fund, but we’re spending around about a million dollars a week cross-subsidising 3,000 out of 22,000 students to support maintaining the readiness of the halls of residence for their return.” “So the argument for continuing to part charge students for those halls that they can’t occupy is simply that the universities are having to maintain their Halls of Residence in an advanced state of readiness for the return of those students.” “So most universities have formed a view that they should pass on all the savings from students not occupying their halls back to the students. Things like savings on catering costs, for example. Were universities being able to access the wage subsidy those savings would be passed on as well, but continue to charge for the fixed cost of the Halls of Residence that have to be paid whether or not the students are in occupancy.” Grant commented that convincing other universities “to take the more generous stance of [his] university” and drop hall charges for empty rooms was a complicated matter, before turning his answer towards the Government, “It does irritate us a bit though when we see Government tossing rocks at the universities when we haven’t yet seen Government step up with a hardship fund of its own, or with a Universal Student Allowance to help students get through this period” Question 2: Universal Education Income Marama Davidson (Green) Davidson asked if Guilford personally, or Victoria University specifically, supported the New Zealand University Students’ Association proposal for a Universal Education Income. Guilford simply stated, “Yes, I do”. When asked whether Universities had been run too much like businesses and too little like education providers,
Guilford argued that universities needed to be “businesslike” as they are “responsible for large sums of money” or face squandering “vast sums of taxpayers money”. “There is a large misconception about university revenue and university surpluses or profits. Some people seem to think that the profits would go into the hands of some wealthy elite that would run off into their superyacht or something like that. Of course, that’s not the case. There is no shareholder running off with the profits or surplus of the university [...] they all get reinvested back into the university’s mission.” Question 3: Communication with Government Nikki Kaye (National) Kaye asked Grant if there had been any pleading with Government for assistance by means of funding because, in the lack of support from Government, students have turned to their tertiary education providers for support. Grant offered that in response to the complicated issue of hall charges, universities had reached out to the Government, asking for access to the wage subsidy. Guilford was clear that he was cautious in doing so as a public sector, as he understood there was worse suffering in the country. However, as halls are operated outside of the University’s core structure and previously supported just 3,000 of the University’s 22,000 students, there was a case to be made to cover these operations. No university has received an answer from the Government on the matter. Question 4: Moving Forward Jan Tinetti (Labour) Honestly not exactly sure what the question was here but she was real enthusiastic about it. Most of Guilford’s response was repeating previous facts and figures. Something about shared brands overseas and Universities coming together with polytechnics and wānanga. Question 5: Universities Quarantine Capacities Shane Reti (National) Guilford told Stuff in February about NZ universities being more than able to quarantine international students by their own means and reiterated most of the same points. Y’all know how to google. Question 6: Conglomerating Tertiary Providers on the World Stage David Seymour (Act) Bro is in desperate need of a haircut. Yarned about having too many philosophy schools in NZ. Guilford politely diffused the situation.
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Opinion Sparkly Vampires and the Film Industry FINN BLACKWELL | HE/HIM
So, we’re getting another Twilight book. Long time fans will no doubt already be starting to reread the series in preparation for the new arrival. However, as someone who has neither read the books nor seen the movies, my immediate reaction to this surprise announcement was more along the lines of “another one?”. I’m sure they’re perfectly fine books, but the fact that the lead actor of the films has stated that (if he wasn’t working on them) he would “mindlessly hate it” does leave one a bit sceptical. Which brings me to my point, seeing as we’re getting another book, does this also mean another movie? Hollywood has had a pretty reliable track record for turning books to movies over the years (Hunger Games, Maze Runner, and Divergent to name the obvious ones). With new material ripe for adapting, can fans expect Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart to return to their respective roles? If you were living under a rock in 2012, you may have missed the earth-shattering revelation that Stewart was supposedly cheating on Pattinson, so the odds aren’t looking likely. According to an article from CNN, the new book is supposedly set from the perspective of Edward (the main sparkly bloodsucker) rather than his paramour Bella’s. The book was infamously leaked in 2008 to an overwhelmingly negative response. Meyer canned the release in return, and Twi-hards thought the story was finished forever. So what’s changed? As far as I’m aware, predatory relationships are still gross, so it's probably not the quality of the writing, but arguably, our desperate need for content. With the original saga in its entirety earning an estimated 3.34 billion USD, the opportunity for box office returns seems to be obvious. But do we need another one? The film industry seems intent on regurgitating stories that are already out there in some different format, rather than supporting and developing original content. This is not to say that remakes aren’t enjoyable or that they’re poorly made. One needs only to look at films like 2019’s Little Women, Joker or The Irishman (titles all based on
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books) to see the massive mainstream success that they can have. If you look at some of the major films released last year, you’ll find that most of them were original concepts. Films like the massively successful Parasite, Marriage Story, Midsommar, and The Lighthouse garnered wide critical and audience praise, a novel turn of events in a world where popularity based titles are often favoured.
"...it's probably not the quality of the writing, but arguably, our desperate need for content." There is, however, another important trend we need to talk about when it comes to movies based on a book series though, that being Hollywood’s knack for dragging the story out by splitting the final film into ‘Part 1’ and ‘Part 2’. This craze that the film industry has been using for at least the last 20 years has affected the likes of Twilight, The Hobbit, and Harry Potter. While this can aid in building the hype for “the final chapter in the saga!”, it can also leave the audience feeling alienated at the end of a half-finished story. The last thing we need right now is a movie exec taking a look at this book and going “ah yes Midnight Sun, part 1 of five (not including the prequel story we’ll make)” rather than focussing on making a project that would do justice to both the source material, and the fans themselves. At the end of the day, all of these decisions are based on the bottom line, what’s going to make the most money? “Yes, these books were successful—can we make them into movies? Yes, the movies were successful, how can we stretch it out to make MORE money.” And fair enough. Money makes the world go ‘round. Capitalist ideals permeate through society like sunlight around the silhouette of a sparkly vampire, so why not just enjoy the film for what film was created to be, an escape from everyday life. Who knows, maybe they won’t muck this one up.
In Other News NZ BREAKS FAST FOOD RECORD
SIMON BRIDGES LEADERSHIP TROUBLE
KIM JONG UN ALIVE
In the first week of Level 3, Kiwis ate the equivalent of five weeks worth of fast food based on pre-COVID averages.
Simon Bridges is holding on for dear life after bad poll results and leaks from his MPs bring his leadership into question.
Despite rumours of his death, Kim Jong Un has appeared in public for the first time in over a month.
BORIS JOHNSON A DAD
MARAMA DAVIDSON STANDING IN MĀORI SEAT
Weeks after leaving intensive care, UK PM Boris Johnson is a father for the sixth time after his fiance gives birth to a baby boy.
In an interesting move, Green co-leader Marama Davidson has announced she is taking on a Labour MP in Tāmaki Makaurau.
GRIMES AND ELON MUSK WELCOME NEW BABY And they called him X Æ A-12.
AUSTRALIA INTRODUCES CORONAVIRUS APP The Australian Government has introduced the “COVIDSafe” app to trace close contacts. Our govt says it is working on something similar.
BEAUDEN AND HANNAH BARRETT EXPECTING
TAIKA WAITITI TO DIRECT STAR WARS FILM
All Black Beauden Barrett and his wife Hannah have announced on Instagram they are expecting their first child.
Vic’s own Taika Waititi has been announced as the director and co-writer of Disney’s new Star Wars film.
MICROSOFT ANNOUNCES NZ ARRIVAL Microsoft has announced it’s setting up shop with its own data centre in NZ, expected to create hundreds of jobs.
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A Y e H N l I H P S p o A e P H Y N INY HAPPY SH People Y P P A H e l Y p o N e I SHIN YHAPPY P H People SHINY HAPPY SHI People N Y Y P P A H Y H N I e l APP SH Peop P P e o p l
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SH I N Y H A P
WORDS BY SHANTI MATHIAS | SHE/HER
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Y P P A YH N SHI People
People
H I N Y H A P
eo
Y P P A le Peop
I’m opening Facebook. I can’t remember why. Maybe I needed to find a Zoom link sent on Messenger. Maybe I wanted to post a Tweet I’ve screenshotted in a meme group. Maybe I wanted to check the details of an assignment on a class page. I’ve forgotten the reason, because I’ve seen an advertisement for a novelty sock company. They claim to be going out of business due to COVID-19 and everything is on sale.
I add enough items to my cart to get free shipping, then I think about the environmental costs of international packages and if I really need novelty socks. I conclude that I do not, so I close the tab. In the days since, I’ve gotten increasingly needy emails from the website, promising discounts on further purchases, begging for my credit card details, shilling some environmental initiative that involves planting trees. Each email is addressed to me, but I don’t respond, feeling a little smug about withholding satisfaction from an advertising company trying to be creative. *** I was in Hong Kong with my sister and we emerged blinking into the central streets. We had passed through five airports and train and metro stations to get to the Central part of Hong Kong Island. I was overwhelmed with the glossy marble, everywhere so much the same that I was convinced we hadn’t arrived anywhere at all. Everything in Hong Kong was grey: slatey sky reflected in mirrored buildings, dark concrete pavements. The only colour was the advertisements. Shimmering ads for Givenchy, pastel dreamworlds sprayed over rattling double decker trams that sold chocolate. Massive billboards offered the latest luxury car, looping videos of high heels told women to live the love stories they longed for.
PPY o
“Money is its own country,” the characters of Emily St. John Mandel novel The Glass Hotel repeat to each other as the shores of their wealth erode. In Hong Kong, the advertisements were nowhere. The same ones were also displayed in Times Square and Milan and Dubai, everything shiny and substanceless. The people who purchase perfume and cars are the same people in the same places, although the people and places have different names.
ple
In No Logo, Naomi Klein writes about the shiny resilience of brands, how the logos of multinational corporations are able to conceal exploitative labour, water pollution, and dead animals. In a foreword to the 10th anniversary of the book, Klein said that the dominance of brands is such that
her polemic against them became a brand of its own: she had people asking her to capitalise on the No Logo logo. She, too, was constructed as the image of her ideas. A picture of her drinking a Diet Coke at a restaurant was printed in newspapers with accusations of hypocrisy. How easily we ask others to live lives of the image; how we let the image be enough, when it gives us permission not to think about the systems it represents. In Hong Kong, my sister grabbed my arm when she saw two people—white men—in superhero suits, Thor and Captain America, posing for photos. She sidled up next to them, while I grabbed her phone and took the picture. Then the suited men asked her for twenty Hong Kong dollars. At their feet was a cardboard sign in Cantonese where these terms of exchange were presumably spelled out, but we couldn’t read Cantonese. Seeing our panicked eyes—twenty Hong Kong dollars was most of our money for dinner—they relented, beckoning the next person forward.
“Money is its own country” We were on a covered walkway. It was Sunday, the day off for Filipina domestic workers. Beneath us, the clamour of women crouching on their own bits of cardboard; living often in small cupboards above the kitchen in the apartments of their employers, on their day off there was nowhere to go but out. Little tents were selling prepaid SIM cards with minutes for calling home. Women huddled against their friends, eating food from home in plastic lunch boxes. But the women got in the way, so it was easier to go between metro stations on the walkways, not having to engage. Unlike the superhero men, no-one was interested in the image of poor brown women far from home. Around them, shiny happy people lived glossy on billboards far above the ground. I don’t feel like an object or an image. Maybe this is only because as a woman under capitalism, I am privileged
FEATURE: SHINY HAPPY PEOPLE
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enough to be able to avoid interacting with domestic workers living between hard choices. I assure myself that I’m a good person because I read two and a half New York Times articles about their plight. I don’t need to sell images of my body, or have them taken from me: I can use words, and feel like that makes me different or better. Occasionally, on Twitter—my only public social media—I am followed by accounts with display pictures of girls with their boobs out and bios promising private messages. I block these accounts, uneasy with either reality: whether these are images of real girls who have learned to sell themselves, or stolen images used by the profiteerers of the sex industry. It is so easy to become an image, and to be sold an image. Everywhere, the dealers of images are looking for eyes to grab. The logic of capitalism tells me that I should try to earn money for writing. Consequently, I’ve dabbled uneasily in writing SEO copy for travel websites: heartless writing that leaves me sick. I’ve written blog posts and stories and articles, even Tweets, for years without being paid for it, and the quality of that writing has nothing to do with whether or not it manifests in my bank account. I fall easily for the cultural narratives which say that money determines value. I have an Oxford t-shirt given to me by my cousin, who studied there. I wear it, filling out the logo with my body. The image of the Oxford crest helps me file ‘ultra-prestigious university for a postgraduate degree’ in the too large part of my brain that holds maybe somedays. I like being that image, the world of education and power that I am connected to simply by the logo that I wear.
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WORDS BY SHANTI MATHIAS
One way to understand the way that branding narratives structure our lives is to consider the institution of university. Universities hawk a narrative where learning is valuable because it will help you to earn more money, and wearing the brand of a university I’ve never attended makes me complicit in that story. My degree means I pay to write: according to capitalism, the debt I accumulate for education is worthwhile for a piece of paper that will supposedly mean I can earn more.
"Everywhere, the dealers of images are looking for eyes to grab." At present, New Zealand’s universities are owned and subsidised by the government; in return, they are expected to milk international students and hall residents for every last dollar. Thus the universities engage in expensive branding exercises to attract the students who will pay the most. However, another story can be told by universities, a story where knowledge is valuable against all circumstances, rather than a byproduct of delivering profit to the government. C. S. Lewis tells that story, when he writes of learning during a war with all of its attendant futility, that “Human life has always had to be lived at the edge of a precipice. Human culture has always had to exist in the shadow of something infinitely more important than itself. If men postponed the
search for knowledge and beauty until they were completely secure, the search would never have begun.” The university, all the debt that will give me a degree, is also a home for this search for meaning, which makes me glad. Stories are built by systems. The years C. S. Lewis spent as an Oxford don were the product of a system of oppression, where the elite of society were allowed to dream and ask questions while the empire that fed that particular stony walled institution continued to appropriate the ways of life of millions of people around the world. This is often at the hands of the erudite powerful people that Oxford itself spat out. I know which images and narratives hook me. I listen to YouTubers talking about the products they use to stay shiny. I look up the book my friend recommends and place it in my cart. I follow the promoted account about Indians in New Zealand and I laugh at the advertisement for home loans in the article I’m reading but I’d still quite like to own a house. I pay attention to the images and what they sell because I’m human. It is in my nature to listen to other people, and turn the systems I exist within into stories. During the coronavirus crisis, delineations have been made between essential and non-essential activities: what we need, and what we don’t. Food is essential. University, it turns out, is not. Banking is essential, so I open the ASB app and see that my rent has disappeared, automatic payments waiting for no virus.
trust that they will do the same. I need to build a world where these actions of care are more possible. Some of the things I need are not essential, according to the government—seeing my family, being held by people I love —and this denial is only tenable because it is supposed to be temporary. I tell myself that my need to have the warmth of other people’s bodies close to mine is less important than a world where fewer people succumb to the random cruelty of a virus, which knows only how to fill cells and nothing else. I can deny my needs for the greater good. In this time of coronavirus, my wants are the same as ever, thoroughly entangled with the advertising I consume. I am part of a society, a system, where I can only want things when I am told to want them, and feel like these wants come from myself. The slick spiel of capitalism says that in all circumstances images must be made, pointing to a story where purchase is allievation for every indiscriminate kind of yearning. *** And so I’m opening Facebook again. I can’t remember if I’m opening it to find a Zoom link, post a meme, check an assignment, or contact a friend who is out of reach. Every gap in the jumble of ideas and images that is my newsfeed is filled with an advertisement, things I am foolish enough to want.
I think I know what I need. I need to care for my mind, body, and spirit, and the minds, bodies and spirits of others, and
FEATURE: SHINY HAPPY PEOPLE
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You’re So Vain You Probably Think This Is About You WORDS BY SALLY WARD | SHE/HER
What do you want? Not much has changed in terms of human desire since the 2nd Century AD. That’s when Juvenal wrote Satire X, a giant pisstake of the vain. The worst part is, despite the passage of time, the vAniTy of hUmAN wishes has not changed as much as one would hope now that we have flushing toilets. I’m sorry if you are a Classics major and are about to witness me butcher this fundamental text.
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Juvenal lists off a bunch of things people wish for in life. The first verse is a warning, akin to the 2008 classic “When I Grow Up” by the Pussycat Dolls: be careful what you wish for. You just might get it. Most people can’t tell good from bad; we want things that will hurt us. Sounds eerily similar to my attempts to get with hot-but-toxic boys. So what does our classical friend think people pray for? Power, fame, glory, long life, and beauty. Not on this list, is the wish for wealth. This seems like a huge omission. I reckon a few people have rubbed a teapot or two and asked a genie for more money. Money is the enabler behind all these other wishes, sitting in the corner of our desires. For example, you need money to be a powerful political player, or to upkeep your appearance, so let’s just read that in for fun. You might have asked yourself at one time or another, why am I here? Aside from the debt, what am I trying to walk away with from Victoria University of Wellington? Am I here for the promise of a good job? Did I come here to look hot? Am I here to be the loudest in the class, the one who should have stopped talking approximately three and a half minutes ago? Do I want to be a political big dog? Who knows. Maybe you just want to make friends and learn some stuff. What does Juvenal think of power, fame, long life, and good looks? It’s important to remember that Juvenal does not think that these wishes are inherently wrong, but observes that other people or your own ego will ruin them for you eventually. The Emptiness of Power | So you want to be the leader of a youth wing. You want to be the team captain. You will be mobbed by haters, aka Taylor Swift haters gon hate hate hate. And if the power goes to your head, well, the people who once voted for you will turn against you on Facebook cc: Simon Bridges. At best you’ll achieve enough status to have your face slapped all over the tacky mugs that no one reaches for in the shared kitchen. Juvenal concludes by saying that simply seeking a place at the top is an “extravagant prayer granted by spiteful gods.” Few kings have stood free from blood and carnage. Few tyrants achieve a tranquil death. So idk, maybe make sure you’re in it for the rights reasons. The Rewards of Fame and Eloquence | Juvenal bases this point on two famous Roman orators—Cicero and Demosthenes. Cicero has his head chopped off and displayed by his enemies on the Rostra, the very podium he once spoke on. Demosthenes killed himself before his enemies could. Who would embrace virtue if you took away the reward? I am trying to move on from Tiger King but Joe Exoctic really did come to mind as someone whose mouth got the better of them. Locally grown, we’ve got Bob Jones. You might recognise him from the defamation proceedings he initiated against Renae Maihi after she called him a racist. He withdrew the claim, after taking the stand and proving himself to be, in fact, racist. He loved the sound of his own voice so much he shot himself in the foot.
The Paths of Glory | This one was about being really hot shit on a battlefield. I’m not going to elaborate on this because the only war I’m trying to win is against my landlord. The Penalties Of A Long Life | We’re a bit young for this one, but there may come a time when we wish for youth. Besides, university has aged me. I might need some of those years back. But are people really trying to be immortal vampires? Peter Tiel, the owner/whatever of PayPal does blood transfusions from young people in an attempt to stop ageing. Interestingly, he owns a large parcel of land in New Zealand. Having been in the country for less than a week, he was granted citizenship. He offered to make a substantial investment in NZ ‘business,’ which he has not actually done. Maybe he just pulled Mr Key’s… ponytail. Anyway, Juvenal warns that in old age “the pleasures of food and wine are no longer the same”. All the viagra in the world won’t fix your “limp prick”. You’ve got a bad hip and you can’t remember the face of the person you had dinner with last night. Even if your mind and body survive, you’ll have to nourish yourself with funeral food as you say goodbye to all your friends. And As For Good Looks | I’ll be honest, this one has not aged well. It mostly concerns the fate of good looking young men. At the time, good looking young men might become the object of some Emperor’s sexual desire. Nero collected them like trophies. If not, then a good looking fellow would most likely have a doomed marriage because apparently “it’s rare for beauty to coincide with restrained behaviour”. A.k.a, a man with a jawline carved by God will cheat on you. The penalty for cheating in the 2nd Century AD was lashing yourself. What can we take away from this? Good looking people gon’ cheat? Being good looking does not entitle you to cheat? Watch out for creepy people trying to hit on you at the bar? It’s pretty dreary. Juvenal does suggest one thing that is safe to wish for. It comes in the form of a latin phrase. It’s probably been reblogged a hundred thousand times on Tumblr: “mens sana in corpore sano,” which means a “sound mind in a healthy body.” Good luck achieving this one. “Know Your Mind” is NOT an accurate representation of what one goes through here at Victoria University. It’s more like ‘Lose Your Mind and spend the next two years trying to find it’. But imagine not having to worry about where you are on the social scale, if you’re articulate, if you’re hot. Imagine just waking up like yeah, I feel calm and I’m strong enough to carry my groceries home without getting back sweat. What more do you want?
FEATURE: YOU'RE SO VAIN, YOU PROBABLY THINK THIS IS ABOUT YOU
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18BRIAR LOMAS, LET THEM EAT CAKE
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Breaking the Fast WORDS BY LOFA TOTUA
Each week during lockdown, Samoan oldies are invited to share their slam poetry on the topic via Radio Samoa. My grandparents are in my bubble, and they listen intently. The show is in the afternoon and around the same time I’ve dragged myself out of bed, for breakfast. While Mama sips on her ipu ki, Papa is fidgety. He stands up, takes eager strides to the kitchen window, scratches his head and moves behind to where my Nana sits, hovering. He makes a judgmental comment on one and gifts a nod of approval to another, a professional radio listener. 20
If he’s not listening to the radio, he’s watching the news or reading the paper. Most days I’ll find Mike Hosking’s face and column scribbled on. Interestingly, during these slam poetry sessions, if it’s not ‘good enough’, he blames it on the Sāmoan old person’s lack of education. In my life, he represents an age group of people both stuck in their old ways and hungry to learn. In Aotearoa’s worst case scenario, Papa’s age bracket would have made up 89% of the death cases. According to the Potential Worse Case Health Impacts from the COVID-19 Pandemic Report, loved ones aged 60 and up would have been amongst the most disproportionately affected. The numbers in the report exceeded the deaths from WW1—18,000. There was no definite data that shaped the impacts on Māori and Pasifika elderly in the report. However, modelling predictions shared in an RNZ article titled “Covid-19 deadlier for Māori, Pasifika”, estimated that “the death rate for people in their 60s and 70s was 7.9 percent for Māori and 5.5 percent for Pasifika, compared to an overall rate of 2.8 percent. For those 80 and older, it was 13.9 percent for Māori—one in seven people—and 11.8 percent for Pasifika—one in nine people—compared to 6.8 percent overall.” It is no secret that at our worst and at our best, the most vulnerable will be the incapacitated majority in every category. Economist Shamubeel Eaqub shared his concerns in an RNZ article, where existing problems outside of COVID-19 and a recession already make winter hard for families. “The worst of it will happen through winter... Unfortunately, it's also going to mean that it happens in those minority communities—Pacific people, Māori, recent migrants, people with disabilities. They're the ones who are going to struggle the most.” Figure.NZ organises data to help measure and understand New Zealand’s workforce. The data is from the 2018 Census; combined with Statistics NZ, it proves Māori and Pasifika have higher proportions of people working jobs with higher levels of physical contact, and are therefore more exposed to the virus. These jobs continue to be paid the bare minimum, despite their quick shift from being ‘low-skill’ roles to ‘essential’. In this time, initiatives have stepped up to serve. Wellington students have formed a Volunteer Army, aiming to support as many people in isolation and removing prejudices which have prevented parts of the community from reaching out. From the week Aotearoa entered Level 4, food banks such as The Village Trust, founded by Pasifika hero Sir Michael Jones, have formed partnerships from Foodstuffs to Blues players, catering to families in need. Food banks all over have felt the increased demand, with many families losing their main source of income due to COVID-19. Depression. org has recognised that impacts of COVID-19 on Pasifika people are not just physical and has dedicated information and tools tailored to the realistic complexities within Pasifika homes as well as a range of other groups. Suggestions such as: live streaming a family lotu/prayer once a week and learning more about your cultural roots, villages, and family history have been listed; whilst acknowledging that
the lockdown rules go against the way Pasifika connect culturally. Le Va has created the tag #catchyourself, offering necessary support with answering the tough question: How do we maintain respectful relationships in our bubble? It is no secret that low paid work, unemployment, access to education, poverty, housing insecurity, suicide, mental health, and violence in our Māori and Pasifika homes are all connected. This balance ultimately connects us to the land and how we act as stewards. Or, how the people with power and money don’t act as stewards. Oh what? You didn’t know that secret? Uh, never mind... I forget what hasn’t been voiced before in mainstream media and in academic textbooks, written from the sole perspective of the white authors. Are our voices still not loud enough? Are Indigenous ways of life still not worthy? Are our successes and breakthroughs only important if we are labelled New Zealander or Kiwi? It took a pandemic for our colonial governing structure to give people what they deserve. Facts and figures prove what life was like for Māori and Pasifika before COVID-19 arrived. However, the aftermath of COVID-19 and our month lockdown, may entrench these existing inequalities. We’re going to do something about it. Let’s talk about $takes real quick. COVID-19 has thrown hundreds of students into a scary headspace, especially in regards to finance. The ‘broke college student’ takes on a new meaning when the immediate future of your family relies on your success, a reality for many Pasifika and Māori in tertiary education. Prayers up for the students in a household where they have to cover for essential working parents, are essential workers themselves, or have to settle yelling kids, while continuing study in a time like this. What keeps Pasifika and Māori in tertiary institutions is captured by Wellington City Councillor and Indigenous trailblazer, Tamatha Paul: “Education is a transformational tool and has the potential to shift the family cycles of poverty and inequality.” It gives us the understanding to put names to things we have seen our whole lives and the ability to “... imagine a new reality, challenge unfairness, to use the tools that society gives us to participate, stand up and be heard.” I’m still here. I’m still hungry to learn. But I’m tired too. Our generation shares this exhaustion, but we also share the willpower—there is work to be done. We are no longer tolerating lethal statistics, the risks our Pasifika and Māori communities face. We are not accepting degrading headlines and stories with “details” on how rough, tough, and brown the subjects are. We are exhausted from seeing loved ones being the working poor, never graduating to the paradise that was promised. We are doing something about being last place in our country’s collective wellbeing. Our struggles may be different, with varying degrees of agency, but this lockdown has shown how our generation can respond with the same mana as our parents and elders —the backbone of New Zealand’s workforce. In the words of Indigneous climate leaders 350 Pacific, we are mātagi mālohi, strong winds that will bring about change. The change that we need to break our fast.
FEATURE: BREAKING THE FAST
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Stick it to the Man Not your mate who drinks Nitro through a straw WORDS BY GRACE CLARKE | SHE/HER
As a member of the ~vegan community~, I spend a lot of my time scrolling through vegan food on social media, and no time at all writing that essay I was meant to do last week. One thing I’ve noticed as I scroll through delicious plant-based food while ignoring all responsibilities is that vegans can be total dicks to other vegans. 22
Reducing environmental impact is a major reason many people eat a plant-based diet, but this can lead to floods of angry comments every time a well-meaning animal lover posts some food on their feed that came wrapped in plastic packaging. It’s time to start hating on Coca-Cola instead of your friends. We need to stop hating on ourselves, and each other, for not being perfect environmental warriors all of the time. This polluted, melting, and suffocating planet isn’t all our fault. Whether it’s a vegan drinking a bottle of Coke on their lunch break, or your flatmate drinking their vodka Coke through a straw, corporations have as much of a responsibility to the planet as us consumers. Plastic has become a hot topic of environmental activism over recent years, and for good reason. Plastic in our oceans kills millions of animals a year, with nearly 700 different species currently known to be affected by plastics. According to National Geographic, there’s also growing evidence that the microplastics our plastic waste breaks down into could be harmful for humans too. Plastic doesn’t only pollute our oceans, either—plastic is made of oil or natural gas, and so its production results in significant greenhouse gas emissions. 8% of the world’s oil produced is used just to make plastic, and this is predicted to rise to 20% by 2050.1 Now, you might be thinking that the angry vegans are right, and that we should be getting riled up every time someone uses A Plastic. Plastic, after all, sucks. I’m not saying it doesn’t. But, can you really blame your friends/consumers for this crisis? If corporations are producing this plastic, and most governments lack the regulation, infrastructure, or will to recycle it, can we really put the onus on the consumer? I hate to burst your bubble, but no amount of students bringing their reusable cups to the coffee shop can save the world when we’ve still got companies producing a metric fuckton of plastic. The plastic packaging sector, for example, produces the most plastic waste out of any sector by a large margin—around 140 million tonnes of plastic waste per year.2 Coca-Cola recently revealed that they alone produce over 3 million tonnes of plastic packaging a year—the equivalent of 200,000 bottles a minute.3 So, while, yes, maybe you should choose to drink tap water over a bottle of Coke, remember that this choice means fuck all really as long as companies like Coca-Cola continue to give no fucks about the planet. I can hear the “what about recycling?” question from everyone that I’ve now made feel utterly useless in the fight against climate change (sorry). Recycling plastic is nowhere
1. 2. 3.
near as effective as just reducing plastic production itself, but let’s float the idea for a minute. Recycling plastics is obviously far better than dumping them in landfill or on the ground, as keeping plastic from becoming waste can help keep it from entering the ocean. But, less than 20% of plastic is recycled globally, and no, this isn’t because of that time in first year when you drunkenly left your empty scrumpy bottle on the Dixon Street steps instead of recycling it.1 It’s because countries just don’t have the infrastructure in place to recycle the sheer amount of plastic waste that corporations produce. Plastic pollution isn’t going to go away until governments and corporations work together, and start taking the health of the planet seriously. China spent 30 years importing around half of the world’s plastic recyclables, but in 2017 it banned the majority of these imports due to environmental concerns.4 Due to this ban, it is predicted that there could be over 100 million tonnes of displaced plastic by 2030.2 While stopping this import can be seen as a progressive step by the Chinese government to focus on their own environmental issues, imported plastic only made up around 15% of China’s entire plastic waste.5 China only recycles around 25% of it’s own plastic waste, choosing to incinerate most of the rest.5 Which, as a bonus, releases carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. Countries relying on other states to deal with their mess for them, only for those states to then refuse their waste or burn it up into greenhouse gases, isn’t exactly what we might have pictured when we smugly put our old marmite jar in the recycling bin. While we can continue to use recycling facilities as much as possible, to make a true global change it is up to governments to regulate and disincentivise the production and waste of plastic by big corporations. Let’s imagine something insane for a second—a world where free-market capitalism doesn’t dominate our society. A place where those in government actually cared more about their grandkids having a livable planet with breathable air, than the money in their pockets. Sorry, I should stop making such hilarious jokes in such a serious issue—let’s get back to reality. Yes, the world sucks, and will probably continue to suck. I’m not saying we’re totally doomed, or that you may as well start littering the streets with plastic bottles and throwing plastic straws directly at turtles. I’m just saying that every time you direct your anger to someone using a plastic straw, remember that’s how the corporations want you to feel. So please, keep reducing and recycling, but from now on direct your anger about dying turtles towards the Man, not your friend drinking coffee out of a single-use cup.
Parker, Laura. "Fast Facts About Plastic Pollution." National Geographic,
4.
Sean McNaughton and Kelsey Nowakowsi, "How China’s plastic waste
Hannah Ritchie and Max Rosner, "Plastic Pollution," Our World in Data,
5.
Lin, Chen, and Shinichiro Nakamura. "Approaches to Solving China’s
2018.
Plastic waste generation by industrial sector (2020)
The New Plastics Economy Global Commitment 2019 Progress Report, Ellen MacArthur Foundation UN Environment Programme (2019), 19
ban forced a global recycling reckoning," National Geographic, 2019
Marine Plastic Pollution and Co2 Emission Problems." Economic Systems
Research 31, no. 2 (2019): 143-57.
FEATURE: STICK IT TO THE MAN
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Going Nowhere VIC BELL | KĀI TAHU | SHE/HER
Age mellows you out. I grew out of my doc martens and Noam Chomsky phase at the end of Obama’s first term in office. So when instructed to write some #discourse or “anything academic” I chose to be contrary and talk about BBQ pork buns. You don’t come to this column to read political discourse from a highly-strung lesbian. You come to this column to be taken on a journey through time, space, and public transport by a highly-strung lesbian. BBQ pork buns are the perfect light dinner or drunk snack. They are a pillow for your teeth. A pillow filled with sodium. Wellington is the food capital of New Zealand, and there are many spots for your next bun fix. Fujiyama Cafe - CBD
Taste of Samoa - Porirua On a long road just past Cannon’s Creek is a building that’s corrugated iron on the outside and salvation on the inside. I wanted to include this as a shout out to all Pasifika peoples that have taken stewardship of the BBQ pork bun and made it their own. It’s dope the bun has spread far and wide across the Pacific ocean. It is the Lapita pottery of the modern era. Me and my sister gorged ourselves on mini BBQ pork buns at our last rūnanga hui. Thank you to all the aunties behind steamed-up glass sneeze guards. Aunty Mena’s - Cuba St
Down the far end of Lambton Quay, these mid size and suitably mid price buns are just like every boyfriend I had whilst in the closet—pretty average but does the job. Close to the train station, the only time I’ve ever eaten these is going in or out of town late at night. With so many other options I think it will likely stay that way. But it’s commendable that they’re always there when you need them.
Okay so technically they’re not pork. And I’m pretty sure they’re not made in house. Suspiciously identical vegan BBQ buns can be found at the Asian grocery in Kilbirnie opposite the Pak’nSave if you want to steam at home. However, they are almost as good as the real thing and no one should be deprived of BBQ buns on the basis of dietary requirements. Unless you're gluten-free. In which case you’re shit out of luck.
Smokin BBQ Grill - Capital Market
Mekong Cafe - Vivian St
Now we’re talking. If your bun isn’t the size of a baby’s head, I don’t want it. Capital market is halfway up Willis street. There’s something for everyone and it’s a nice place to be both inside enough that you can’t smoke but outside enough to get rained on and bothered by pigeons. The dough is the perfect texture and the filling is evenly seasoned. Highly recommended.
Are these the best BBQ pork buns in Wellington? No. But Mekong Cafe is more than the sum of its parts. Ambience is key in fine dining. I only want to patronise the establishments with the worst quality food photography, the rudest of wait staff, and the most children zooming around my ankles. It’s tiny and always packed except for that one table that miraculously becomes available right as you walk in. Everything on its overwhelmingly large yellow menu is delicious. It is my favourite restaurant in Wellington and I have graciously decided to blow up my spot as they really need your business right now. Try the durian milkshake if you’re brave.
O’Sushi - Moore Wilson’s One of the nicest by far. But this is a good place to pause and debate prices. If you see it as a complete meal, $4 or $5 is a steal. However, when viewed as a hearty snack it is extortionate compared with the mouse traps at Midnight Espresso or a feta spinach filo from the pie warmer at any dairy. 24
ISSUE 09: COLUMNS
Liquid Knowledge CAITLIN HICKS | NGĀTI RANGINUI | SHE/HER
MONEY MONEY MONEY (IT’S SO FUNNY) Money is an uncomfortable topic. Nothing else is quiteso-adjacent to the worst social phenomena: privilege, shame, insecurity, suffering, slimy opulence. We literally cannot survive without money, because maintaining our physiological existence relies on whether we’re really getting that bread. Wu-Tang was right, Cash Rules Everything Around Us.
phenomenon which can occur when there is increased activity in the economy. More people want to buy things, so sellers can charge a higher price, and now things cost more than before although nothing about them has changed. Your money has lost value because you need more of it to buy the exact same thing. Now we’re handing over two notes to the barista, for a drink that’s no different than yesterdays.
Armed with one chaotic Spotify playlist full of songs about moolah, I’m gonna go back to basics and get you in the know, on the dough.
If prices increase more than 50% in one month, it’s called hyperinflation, and we risk the real value of currency becoming totally eroded. In November 2008, the prices in Zimbabwe were doubling every 24 hours. A loaf of bread cost 2 billion dollars in local currency, which became so worthless that people reverted back to bartering. People transported their money around in wheelbarrows, which became a target for theft. Incredibly, people would pinch the wheelbarrows, and leave behind the worthless piles of cash. In the end, they switched to using US dollars, a currency which people believed had value.
Bills, Bills, Bills You can tell your Dad he was right, unlike what Kendrick Lamar would have us believe, money doesn’t grow on trees. New Zealand banknotes are printed on a type of plastic called polymer, and have been since 1999. Before that, they were printed on ‘paper’ made from cotton and linen, like US dollars and the euro still are. These latter two currencies tear so easily, and frequently, that if you damage one, banks will reimburse you with a fresh new note provided you still have at least 51% of the old one left. Cutting all your banknotes in half could be a real get-rich-quick scheme, but proceed with caution. While the dead old white men on our banknotes make them ~fancy~, money is only really worth the value that we assign it. The notes themselves have no inherent value—they’re worth about as much as any other piece of paper. We only think money has worth because we can exchange it for goods and services and receive it in exchange for our work. Somehow, as a society, we decided that a coffee is worth $5, and a car is worth $5000, and we’ll happily swap those items for the appropriate number of banknotes. As long as enough people believe in the value of money, the system will work. If people stop trusting that Sir Ed is a fair trade for a flat white, it could lead to a shutdown of the economy as we know it. Enter, inflation; an economic
Increasingly, we’ve phased out cash and relinquished our private financial information to Zuck & Co for the convenience of using our phones and smartwatches to pay for things. Some people have completely abandoned currency as we know it, and have made stonks investing in the crypto variety. Think blockchain technologies like bitcoin, which, one day, might replace cash completely. National banks, like The People’s Bank of China, are poised to issue their own national cryptocurrency, with other central banks in Europe and even platforms like Facebook exploring the creation of “digital legal tender”. Whether you’re Hustlin’ like Rick Ross, working 9 to 5 (just enough to make a living) or, by some stroke of luck, getting Money for Nothing (and your chicks for free) remember, Money Can’t Buy You Love, and sometimes, Mo Money might mean Mo Problems.
ISSUE 09: COLUMNS
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Off Record HANNAH POWELL | SHE/HER
ARJUNA OAKES Arjuna Oakes is beloved in the local scene. With his funky groove and uplifting soul, you can’t resist those sweet, honey -gold tunes. Having moved from Auckland to Wellington early last year, Arjuna has settled in as a local musician—and it sounds like he’s here to stay. Describing the Wellington music scene as “brilliant”, Arjuna explains it’s the reason he made the move down. Growing up in Auckland, he admits it has a great music scene too, but it has its differences. “[The bands] are more cliquey, in a way,” he says. “When I first came to Wellington it’s like everyone just opened their arms.” Arjuna says that in Auckland you don’t get paid much attention unless you’re “really getting somewhere”. Here, there are plenty of opportunities for artists to start up and shine. He can’t praise the music collective enough. “I think it’s really cool,” he says. “It’s what a young music community needs.” Starting out as a very musical child, Arjuna described himself as a “natural performer”. “As a kid, I always wanted to show off and be the centre of attention—I’m an only child so that makes a lot of sense,” he laughs. Going from family performances to talent shows, to two years of studying music at Auckland University, it’s always been abuzz in his blood. At the end of his first year at university, Arjuna was invited by a member of The Shambles for a jam. Long story short, he joined the band as their keys player and toured with them for the next two years. With New Zealand influences such as his childhood favourites Fat Freddy’s Drop, Tom Scott, Marlon Williams, and Tiny Ruins, Arjuna describes his own sound as “a melting pot”. “Not too rooted in one thing,” he says. “If it’s rooted in anything it’s hopefully rooted in soulful integrity…a genuine nature.” His musical process starting out as an improvisation, he explains it as accidents informing his songs. “It helps if you don’t have a lot of expectation,” he laughs.
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ISSUE 09: COLUMNS
Now, he’s live-streaming once a week. Having been lucky enough to have won an award from the Arts Foundation, he’s gladly helping to boost the platform Boosted Live—a fundraiser for fundraising and struggling artists in the current climate. Releasing a lot of music, but not writing, he explains isolation as a “weird time creatively, because you’re kinda pressured to create”. Staying inside and having so much time, well “it’s not that inspiring, to be honest.” His EP, The Watcher, was released in November 2019. Describing it as a “soul, psychedelic sound”, Arjuna says he wanted it to be a mish-mash of tunes. He admits he feels as if he’d over-produced it, “I feel like I should’ve let it breathe”. Moving on to record tracks live in the studio, he gathered a band and went for it – producing tracks such as his latest April release ‘One For’, and ‘Nobody Knows’. Having a backlog of recordings to release, he says the other songs are of a darker tone and look at climate change—better suited for when we return to normal. “A good reminder of what we need to do next,” he says. Nevertheless, he’s optimistic about the future. “I hope that with this lockdown, we have more respect for each other.” Talking about the correlations between success and busy -ness, he hopes there will be a bit of a culture shift. He hopes that “actually living your life is [actively] being more successful than being rich or having lots to do”. Looking at climate change, he hopes we review our resources and “get rid of the ‘fat’—the things we don’t need”. “Art needs to give us a reminder,” Arjuna says. “‘Hey man, remember what happened a few months ago?’ Be grateful for what you’ve got, and maybe don’t spend so many resources so we can help the planet too”.
Bachelor of Parenting
VUWSA
ROSIE AND MIIA VAN BEUSEKOM | SHE/HER
GRACE CARR | SHE/HER
BITE SIZED PIECES
EAT THE RICH
Eating the rich sure would be good for the bottom line of our weekly budget.
Let’s face it, COVID-19 has exposed many of the shortcomings of capitalism and the skewed priorities of ‘developed’ countries. We're thanking essential workers by applauding them daily instead of paying them a living wage. The ethics and efficacy of the people running giant organisations are questionable at best. The viability of a business should never come at the cost of human life.
This pandemic has highlighted the ongoing struggles of working classes to stay afloat in an ocean of uncertainties. We want to tell our children that the other kids at kindy would have more food in their lunchboxes and shoes that fit properly if we just ate a single billionaire and redistributed their wealth. But sometimes telling the truth is irresponsible. For us, having children is a commitment to working to make a better world. One that won’t be destroyed by an impending climate catastrophe. One where we recognise inequalities and actively work to fix them. We know that the mega rich, with their incessant drive for more unnecessary and unearned wealth, are the main drivers of these problems. We want our children to know this while also teaching them about their responsibility to the environment and to other humans who may be in a worse situation than themselves. The ideology that working-class individuals are the ones responsible for the downfall of humanity is a fallacy. One which has caused us innumerable hours of stress as parents. Being the perfect environmental goody-two-shoes is hard enough by yourself. Add in the energy, time, and brain power required for parenting even on a good day, and it’s more than most can handle. However, it is also our responsibility to encourage our children to employ a positive disposition and faith in humanity, along with all that stuff about being the change they want to see. This can often prove to be the most difficult lesson to teach. It places you in front of a mirror in a dark room to look your own trembling nihilism in the face. Perhaps all we can do is encourage future generations to seek out the tools, knowledge, and nagging skepticism they need in order to curate a better society? For now, we will settle for teaching our babies how to use a guillotine and season a wok.
Society’s current trajectory and economic model aren’t sustainable or healthy (and this is coming from an economics student, so I know my stuff). We cannot continue to exploit the working class, women, minorities, and the planet for the sake of profit, GDP, political popularity, and maintaining the status quo. But with these flaws in the system exposed, there’s a real opportunity to advocate for systematic change. COVID-19 has brought to light the importance of having healthy and affordable homes, an equitable welfare system, and paying people the living wage. There is, and always was, the possibility for transformation. We need the government and society to have the will and compassion to fight for change. This isn’t the time to be complacent—it's the time to champion radical change. VUWSA submitted on the Residential Tenancies Amendment Bill. Our submission called for increased renters’ rights in termination of tenancy, rental prices, healthy home standards, and the tenancy tribunal. In our general election campaign, we’ll be advocating for everyone to get out and vote for laws and regulation changes regarding housing, climate change, mental health support, and more. We won’t stop fighting for change and justice for society, and especially for our student community. We won’t stop prioritizing the rights and interests of our communities over the top 1%. So, get out your pitchforks, Molotov's, and guillotines for a feast x (oh, and please vote).
ISSUE 09: COLUMNS
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UniQ ELLE KINGSBURY | SHE/HER
TRUSTING HUNGER “Eat the rich!” is ambiguous as a slogan. How should we take it, metaphorically or literally? Is it jokingly literal and seriously metaphorical—or seriously literal behind a cover of humour and metaphor? Is the whole thing a joke? Is it a command, or an expression of desire, is it a summoning of a body who could command and desire? In what kind of potential or fictive universe are the finger-bones of our oppressors yielding up their marrow to our teeth? The force of the slogan is in these questions, speculations towards a political alliance as yet future, tasked to embody and bring to fruit a struggle as yet sapling. In their unresolved state, the questions hold as well as a certain power, a certain pleasure of exhilaration: “We don't know what we mean! We don't need to! The future will tell.” As LGBT+ people, these sorts of questions may be familiar to us. Though our own alliance has functioned usefully through struggle and reproduction across decades, its terms are always being re-drawn up. What does it mean to be queer? Who is included by what? What conduct is acceptable? How can we protect and perpetuate our family? What is our struggle and how is it to be carried out? Our diversity of experience and politics produces a diversity of answers. Their clash and interplay defines and redefines our communities, even as the historical terrain for that clash and interplay shifts and is shifted. There is no one queerness. Even to an individual, there can be no one queerness: contradiction is impressed on our consciousness.
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ISSUE 09: COLUMNS
Of course, this is a contradiction of an embattled past, not just an uncertain future. I can't say “I don't know what I mean!” when talking about LGBT+ things. I know exactly what I mean and a dozen meanings refracting off that meaning and interfering with it, too. If I don't, other people will have those understandings. I might disagree with them and we should talk about it, or fight about it, depending. So it goes on, gritted and usually painful, the past processed into the changing present, quite unlike the current biting dream of mass class alliance. Yet in that more worked out, bloodier cultural irresolution of ours, there is that same headrush pleasure: we are together, and we may not know where we're going but we're sure going there. The roller coaster plunges! It's the night of the 30th of April as I write this, sitting on my girlfriend's flatmate's sofa in our bubble in Island Bay, the wind outside, everyone else gone to bed. I don't know what I'll do tomorrow. Maybe go to the beach and watch the sea. That's a good place to go in lockdown, if you're close enough: the waves going back and forth, and the wide sky. When tragedy is everywhere, and none of us are strong enough, that play of force, fluid, solid, space, chance gives more than just pleasure: it consoles. History takes its own way, and we all buoy with it. Even as we learn, even as we fight, even as we change, even as we fail, even as we love, even as we hunger.
…in my white capris
Where is Lambton Quay, in my white capris Lining up for the cable car, in my white capris Do you take American Express? Can I have a GST receipt? I want a refund, in my white capris Why can’t I connect to the internet? I need to email my cleaner How do I log into my iPad, in my white capris It’s 24 carat gold darling These wedges go with everything I’m really into colour blocking, in my white capris It’s happy hour somewhere Can I have the dressing on the side Skim milk only thanks, in my white capris My husband never looks at younger women My son Spencer goes to Harvard The Range Rover’s at the airport, in my white capris We’re spending Christmas in Hawaii I thought this was Australia There’s golf on the boat, in my white capris We must get going, the buffet opens soon And we’ve got salsa class at 6pm…
–Flora Hansen and Sally Ward
Send your poems to poetry@salient.org.nz
POETRY
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The Clothes Off a Man’s Back
STELLA PEG CARRUTHERS | SHE/HER
UK based textile artist Anne Kelly says art is a way of “creating our own small worlds”. Kelly’s words speak of that spark of inspiration when being creative makes you feel, if not fully god-like, then at least with some power over your personal world. Power over the personal could be considered a key theme in domestic-centred textile art. Long associated with women’s work and the home, textile artwork is seen as Fine Art’s poorer, less educated, and rough around the edges cousin. As a country bumpkin, textile artwork is an outsider in our modern post-industrial world. She speaks of things made slowly. And by hand. She talks of second-hand materials and comfort over cool. Textile art has long been considered uncool. That is, when it is deigned to be an art at all. Consider the stereotype of the granny knitting afghans or crafts as therapy on a mental health ward. These cultural tropes mean textiles are equated as either antiquated or an activity only good for those who are neurodiverse. Kelly’s work is neither of these things. Although she does firmly state the influence of folk and outsider art on her work. Both are made by people who are self-taught. Their style is refreshingly naïve. Kelly melds these two ideas in a way that implies unselfconscious creativity and a style marked by its simplicity. One of Kelly’s common motifs is to use discarded clothing as the basis for her artworks. Clothing items such as a dress or apron serve as the background with additional textile elements for detail. Kelly then adds her signature technique of machine stitching the whole surface of the work. This technique both holds down the disparate fabric features and adds textural interest. Kelly’s use of second-hand clothing elements is a nod to eco art in its exploration of textile waste. It also reflects a more holistic view of art and humanity than is common in much of the mainstream art world.
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REVIEWS: ART
Another motif Kelly uses is the universal tree of life symbol. This tree form creates a core compositional structure. The linear effect of the branches could be interpreted to imply a hierarchy of values. The additions of foliage and flowers soften that implication to one of a more egalitarian value where all life is cherished. The tree of life form is interesting when considering both spatial linearity and iconography. Formally, it creates a path for the eye to follow around the surface space. As a symbol, when considered in its socio-political context, the straight lines can imply a reference to linear thinking. It can thus imply the support of assumptions about textiles within the art world. Textiles are perceived as a secondary creative medium by many. They are often devalued for their associations with minority groups. That is, with women for its domestic origin, and the mentally ill or disabled as actioned in a therapeutic context. Considered poor in medium and in relation to their maker, textiles are at the bottom of the art world according to values of wealth. The value of a practical craft that can be applied in the everyday realm is given little recognition in the world of the wealthy. I read Kelly’s work as attempting to initiate discussions about these issues of wealth perception in the art world. By working in the textile medium, Kelly also engages in an exploration of gender and disability narratives within wider society. Her work shows a way of being creative that transforms discarded textiles into beautiful things that speak of the kind of wealth money cannot buy.
The Adams Family
WILL ELAND | THEY/THEM
This whole issue is about how we should dunk on eco-fascists. I’m very in favour of this take, as someone with disabilities who would like to survive this pandemic and not die for the ‘greater good’. This is why my review this week is of my Countdown delivery drivers. I don’t know any of their actual names, as our interactions pre-pandemic consisted of them handing me very heavy bags of rice and watching me nervously. Now they consist of us waving through the kitchen window at each other. They shall, therefore, all be named Adam. Each Adam will be rated according to my highly scientific and well thought out criteria: •
How they delivered the bags
•
Did they warn me about heavy things/eggs
•
Niceties
•
Vibes
Before we rate our Adams, I would first like to rate the general concept of Countdown grocery delivery. As someone who cannot drive, and finds it difficult to carry a week’s worth of food for the twenty minute walk between the train station and my house, I am very grateful to have my shopping brought to me (most of the time). I can go online, get all the food I want and order delivery for the next morning. The time slots are, in my opinion, far too big (on average about 21/2 to 3 hours) but they do give the option to text you when it’s nearly at your house. Though, the timing of that text has been questionable. I have received the warning text 45 minutes before my shopping as well as ten minutes after. The price is decent, as my flat banded together and bought the “delivery saver” for six months to get free delivery. There’s some maths that someone should work out but we paid about $20 per month through the
delivery saver, when each week we would have to pay $13 for delivery. All in all, the service is good but could do with some tweaks. 4/5 Adam #1: my first delivery driver. Old, very sweet. Gently handed me my groceries, told me what each bag had, warned me about heavy items. Honestly seemed to care about my flatmates and I. 5/5 Adam #2: this dude was literally from my partner’s primary school. Was very weird for him to give me groceries. Just left them on the doorstep and basically ran. Luckily we’ve only had him once. 2/5 Adam #3: I don’t know what was up with this dude but he liked to place the bags on the doorstep as I reached for them, and then watch me bring them in. Don’t know if the careful watching was out of concern for my strength or because he… wanted to? Otherwise nice to interact with. 3/5 Adam #4: the pandemic begins. It’s been several weeks since I was able to get groceries delivered, due to everyone else in the country wanting to do the exact same thing as me. I cannot rate him on the bag-handing-over etiquette due to the whole social distancing thing, but he did place them neatly on the porch and waved at me. 4/5 Adam #5: we’re in deep lockdown now. This Adam looks through my kitchen window, flustered. It’s 7.40pm and I believe we’re the last house on his list. I feel sorry for this Adam. He hurries down my garden path, lit from behind by the lights of his truck’s brake lights. In his arms, he brings me the goods I never thought I’d see again: pasta, flour, tinned tomatoes. Our eyes lock through the window. I smile and wave, he nods his head solemnly. After he unloads my groceries he leaves again, into the darkness of a winter night. I need to see more people. 5/5
REVIEWS: DELIVERIES
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Who Said Salient Never Does Negative Reviews? Uni Responses to COVID-19
BROCK STOBBS | HE/HIM
Victoria University of Wellington – 0/5 I flipped and flopped with this review. I was going to give a middle-range rating in light of all of the work the support services have done to help students during the lockdown. These staff continue to provide us with essential support and I’m thankful. But then good ole GG, William Grant Guilford, decided now was the time for a fuck up. Charging a ‘placeholder fee’ and then excusing it as necessary to avoid cutting costs via staff pay reductions is a money-grubbing act. Why is their go-to response always pitting students against staff? Shit like this is honestly just irredeemable —even after backing down. You’d think being a veteran of Grant Guilford’s University of Wellington would mean these decisions wouldn’t come as a surprise. Good ole GG always manages to top himself. A rotten cherry on an already rancid cake is what this is. University of Otago – 0/5 I’m not going to lie, it’s hard for me to overlook the giant shit show that is the decision to cut ties with Critic, the student magazine at Otago. What can I say, I guess I’m just a shill for student media? Considering universities are not exactly renowned for their effective communication and engagement with students, depriving them of one generally successful information provider is nonsensical and reeks of pettiness. And surprise, surprise, students are being charged accommodation fees during the lockdown as well. I’m starting to see a trend here. However, credit where credit is due, the recent (as of writing this) announcement of Pūtea Tautoko, a $1.5 million hardship fund for students facing financial hardship as a result of COVID-19 is a positive development for students. A silver lining in an otherwise spectacular shit show.
University of Auckland – 0/5 Screwing over students in hall accommodations seems to be a Vice-Chancellor’s favourite pastime at the moment. As I'm writing this, I am reading of a student who has had to pay $263 a week for a room they can’t live in. Sound familiar Vic students? They, likely many others, will keep being charged until they can move back in. Love that for them. Another nugget of immoral decision-making I found was the university asking some contract staff to work for no pay. The staff in question are running a foundation course aimed at securing University Entrance for those who didn’t whilst at school—a group who largely come from disadvantaged backgrounds and a majority of whom are Māori and Pasifika. Everyone else – ?/5 I have done zero research into how every other university has responded to COVID-19 (not entirely true, I mostly ran out of space). This is not to mention all the polytechs and private tertiary institutions across the country that are composed of students just like us. Would I give a rating despite knowing bugger-all about their tertiary institutions? Of course I would! My prediction, based on absolutely nothing at all but my unbridled pessimism, is that it consists of middling support and piss poor communication. Am I wrong? Maybe, but I doubt it. That isn’t to say there hasn’t been some great work across the board. I mentioned in the beginning the support services at Vic are doing the Lord's work. Truly they are. I’m sure the same can be said for many academic and other staff at these universities too. But this isn’t about them, it’s about the institutions and their leadership. I will always respect the workers who are there to teach us, support us, and contribute positively to our university experience (BIG UP the cleaning staff at Vic, please pay them more OCS). It’s just unfortunate the leadership teams running these universities suck so bad. Image Credit: Hayden Fisher
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REVIEWS: UNI RESPONSES TO COVID-19
We Watched Cats High So You Didn’t Have To
ALICE MANDER
I first saw Cats the musical when I was 15. While I didn’t hate it, per se, it did leave me feeling like a part of my youth had been robbed by the theatre. So, weed or not, the movie couldn’t possibly be worse, right? I got some mates together. Some of us got stoned while some of us stayed sober (because you gotta do what feels right for you). As the authentic journalist that I am, I made sure to get some pre-intoxication thoughts: “How are you feeling about watching Cats?” “I love Cats. I know all the words” “I think it’s gonna be weirdly arousing” “I’m just here for the weed” The film opens with a bang. A bag is dropped into the streets of London. “Alright who's in the bag? Oh it’s Taylor Swift”. It was not Taylor Swift. The Not-Taylor-Swift-Cat was let out of the bag. She then experiences a weird initiation into the Jellicle Clan where they sing a scary song about... cat names? Despite us all falling into a silent trance during this, no one knew what was happening. Personally, I was too focused on the human hands. I also began to wonder, with increasing horror, how many erection jokes they would make with the tails. “I literally know one piece of exposition and it’s that they’re cats”, says our friend after watching close to two hours of this film. The other half of us were planning our niche Masters thesis. I was in this camp because I had finally got the key to Cats. I made a simple and quick note on my phone: Cats is a Marxist revolution. The Jellicle Cats are the working class. The James-Cordencat is our token fat cat capitalist kitty. We even have some petite bourgeois in there in the form of the Judi-Denchcat, and the Ian-Mckellen-cat (FYI, this is pretty much where my theory lost any rhyme or reason). I’ll admit that I couldn’t quite explain the cats’ dislike for Grizabella, the Glamour-cat who our friend confidently exclaims is definitely
a “prostitute” and that’s why she was outed from the Jellicle Cat society. That raised questions. Why would Marxist kitties be so mean to this hard-working kitty? Also, if Grizabella is indeed a sex worker, and all power to her, then who are her clients? Are the only cats in town the Jellicle Cats—because it sure looks that way and, if that is true, I repeat, WHO ARE HER CLIENTS?! Wait, also, WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE HUMANS??!! Cats had officially broken us. The proportions. Those bloody proportions. The Jellicle Cats appear to exist in a post-human world in which human artefacts remain, right? Naturally, the cats also found time to create their own human-inspired, albeit cat-sized, items like hats. BUT, why is there also furniture which is slightly too small for a human, but still too big for a cat? AND there is stuff which is clearly WAY too big for either human or cat.“The train tracks are too big !!!! What the tuck”, another note in my phone. The most disturbing thing throughout was the inherently sexual implications of the film. For instance, if some cats wear clothes, are the other cats just naked all the time? My friend confided in me, “I close my eyes and I see naked Idris-Elba-cat” which is less enticing than you’d think. When James-Corden-cat appeared another friend piped up, “I’m….”, a pregnant pause, “... scared?”. Cats and the weed had him questioning so many things about himself that he suddenly felt the need to confess to us that, the other night, he was lulled to sleep to the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. By the time Grizabella ascended into cat-heaven most of us had descended into chaos. From snacking on corn chips; talking about those lamps “with the tassels” that they wanted to buy for the flat; and giggling about eating plastic (???), the somewhat chilling tune of “mAgicAl mister mistOffElees” was but a distant yet concerning memory. However, I—the forever responsible journalist—at least caught one departing comment: “I’d rewatch it”. And that, my friends, is the power of cannabis.
REVIEWS: MUSICAL
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Occupation Station Capitalist Quiz with Comrades
1.
How many billionaires are there in Aotearoa?
2
3.
4.
11.
Who was the first elected head of state to give birth while in office?
How many times have Trump’s businesses declared bankruptcy?
12.
Who was the only British Prime Minister to be assassinated?
What is Queen Elizabeth II’s net worth?
13.
Who is the richest woman in the world?
14.
What animal is the symbol of the US Democratic Party?
Who holds the record for the most expensive grill (jewellery) in the world?
5.
How many seats are there in New Zealand’s Parliament?
15.
How much did Cats (2019) lose at the box office?
6.
How much did the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle cost?
16.
Who is the shortest-serving, European monarch in history?
17. 7.
What is Grant Guilford’s salary?
When was New Zealand’s first Labour Government elected?
8.
The word ‘bankrupt’ comes from an Italian word meaning A. light purse, B. empty bank, or C. broken bench
18.
What is Jacinda Ardern’s salary?
19.
Which MP had a dildo thrown at him at Waitangi
9.
What did the ancient Romans use instead of money sometimes?
20.
Which political party faced a donations scandal at the start of 2020?
10.
True or False—There is more Monopoly money printed each year than real money?
Answers: 1. 2, 2. 6, 3. About USD530 million in assets, but she gets a nice wee top up from tax payers, as a treat, 4. Dr William Dorfmanm. Worn by Katy Perry in the Dark Horse music video, the grill cost over a million USD to produce and was probs never worn again, 5. 120 seats plus one overhang seat. Idk what this means, ask a law student, 6. 53 million USD, 7. Toooo much. Most recent figures say $587,000 per year, 8. Broken bench, 9. Salt, 10. True, 11. Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan in 1990, 12. Spencer Perceval in 1812, 13. Alice Walton, the only daughter of Walmart’s founder, Sam Walton, 14. Donkey, 15. About $100 million, 16. Louis XIX of France, for 19 minutes, 17. 1935, 18. $471,000, 19. Steven Joyce, 20. NZ First 34
OCCUPATION STATION
Word of the Week: ‘equal/ fair’
Te Reo Māori:
New Zealand Sign Language:
ōrite, taurite
5/6/2020
Web Sudoku - Billions of Free Sudoku Puzzles to Play Online
5/6/2020
Web Sudoku - Billions of Free Sudoku Puzzles to Play Online
NZSL: https://www.nzsl.nz/signs/1202
Sudoku Easy Puzzle 6,645,931,331
4
3
7 5
3
8 6
8 7
4
3
6 1 7 2 4 Back to puzzle
2 3 6 4
5 1 6 7
Evil Puzzle 10,322,426,218
2 4
8
1 7 9
7 3
7
4
2
4
4
9 6 5
1
9
Print another...
8 2
4 2
9
1
5
4
Samsung
9 7
6
6 8 4
5
6
1 7
Back to puzzle
Print another...
Apple
© Web Sudoku 2020 - www.websudoku.com
© Web Sudoku 2020 - www.websudoku.com
Brain Teasers 1/1
1. I dig out tiny caves, and store gold and silver in them. I also build bridges of silver and make crowns of gold. They are the smallest you could imagine. Sooner or later everybody needs my help, yet many people are afraid to let me help them. Who am I?
https://www.websudoku.com/?level=4
1/1
2. What word starts with E and ends with E but only has one letter in it? 3. The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I? 4. What 4-letter word can be written forward, backward or upside down, and can still be read from left to right?
Answers: 1. The Dentist, 2. An envelope, 3. Finger prints, 4. Noon
https://www.websudoku.com/?level=1
8
OCCUPATION STATION
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Horoscopes MADDI ROWE | SHE/HER
I never thought I’d get to intersect my two personality traits on a public platform: complaining about capitalism and the ruling class, and being a token astrological bitch. But here we are. I’d like to thank the academy, my filthy commie parents, and RIP Jeff Bezos. He isn’t dead, but for when he dies, coz we all know it’s coming.
ARIES Make Daddy Zedong proud. Choose your guillotine wisely; it’ll be illustrated in history books.
GEMINI
Put your mediation skills to the test and trick capitalists into elaborate, socially persecutory traps on Twitter. Incite a revolution from the comfort of your own home.
We’re holding auditions for a golden-throated leader, with a thirst for collective action. Contact our horoscope curator for further info.
CANCER
LEO
VIRGO
Holding hands and making daisy chains won’t work this time around. Sharpen your knitting needles.
Consider this: a strip tease to the celebrity Imagine video. There’s GOT to be a fetish you can capitalise off there.
So now that we’re planning the Feast, can I put you down for goblets and menu font design?
LIBRA The revolution will be televised. Time to tie-dye your shit red.
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TAURUS
SCORPIO You’ve definitely drunk human blood before; just do your thing and we’ll faithfully write down your wisdoms.
CAPRICORN
AQUARIUS
I know you have savings. Redistribute or you’re dessert. xx
The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Mark Zuckerberg is the Lizard King. Stay woke, comrade.
HOROSCOPES
SAGITTARIUS Fuck the system before it fucks you. Exploit your local philanthropist.
PISCES I hope you’re making room for others in that bunker, bitch! I’ll bring casserole!
The Team EDITORS Rachel Trow & Kirsty Frame DESIGN & ILLUSTRATION Rowena Chow NEWS EDITORS Te Aorewa Rolleston & Finn Blackwell
CHIEF REPORTER Annabel McCarthy
SUB EDITOR Alfred Dennis SOCIAL MEDIA & WEB MANAGER Kane Bassett PODCAST MANAGER Matthew Casey STAFF WRITERS Lofa Totua Sally Ward Shanti Mathias TV TEAM Charlie Myer & Julia Mattocks
FEATURE WRITERS Shanti Mathias Sally Ward Lofa Totua Grace Clarke
COLUMNISTS Vic Bell Caitlin Hicks Hannah Powell Elle Kingsbury Grace Carr Rosie van Beusekom Miia van Beusekom
CONTRIBUTORS Maddi Rowe Brock Stobbs Will Eland Stella Peg Carruthers Alice Mander Taylah Shuker Ethan Griffiths Tessa Porter
POETRY EDITOR Janhavi Gosavi
POETRY Flora Hansen & Sally Ward
REVIEWS EDITOR Brock Stobbs
CONTACT US editor@salient.org.nz designer@salient.org.nz (centrefold artwork) news@salient.org.nz socialmedia@salient.org.nz poetry@salient.org.nz reviews@salient.org.nz
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FIND US fb.com/salientmagazine instagram.com/salientgram twitter.com/salientmagazine salient.org.nz
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