Issue 22 - Eve by Salient

Ka pĹ?ti au kia whai reo He aha te take me pĹ?ti koe? Why will you vote?

I vote to have a voice Local Elections 2019

wellington.govt.nz/elections

EDITORIAL

UNIQ

LETTERS & NOTICES

MAURI ORA

NEWS

VUWSA

SHIT NEWS TWEETS OF THE WEEK

SWAT

NGĀI TAUIRA

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

POEM

PAST BONES, PRESENT REALITIES

SPORTS

CENTREFOLD

MUSIC

THE APPLES ARE NOT FLAVOURED

FOOD

SKELETONS IN YOUR CLOSET

FASHION

GO THE F*CK TO SLEEP

ART

CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

PROCRASTINATION

Editor Kii Small editor@salient.org.nz

Advertising Josephine Dawson advertising@vuwsa.org.nz

Designer & Illustrator Rachel Salazar designer@salient.org.nz

Feature Writers Shanti Mathias Pablo Monteverde-Young Janhavi Gosavi Tessa Keenan

News Section Finn Blackwell, Johnny O'Hagan Brebner, Emma Maguire, Shanti Mathias, Sophie Dixon, Esme Hall (Critic), Rachael Brown, Annabel McCarthy, Jackson Graham, Reid Wicks, Elliot Blyth

News Editor Johnny O’Hagan Brebner news@salient.org.nz Sub Editor Janne Song subeditor@salient.org.nz Social Media Callum Turnbull socialmedia@salient.org.nz

FM Station Managers Jazz Kane Navneeth Nair TV Producers Monique Thorp Joseph Coughlan Centrefold Elliot Blyth @elliot.blyth

Contributors Yoon, Brock Stobbs, Jude West, Finn Carroll, Alex Walker, Rachel Trow, Dixie Normous, Sally Ward, Niva Chittock, Campbell Giddens, Maya Neupane, Nina Weir, Puck, Felicia Evangelista

In the winter of New Zealand in 2012, Frank Ocean gave us the coldest gift we could ever receive. Among promises that the world would be crushed, implode, or both—Frank Ocean gave us the worst present in the form of an album. Channel Orange, a beautiful album focused on his repressed emotions during an emotionally laden adolescence. From “Thinkin Bout You” to “Lost”, Frank offers vulnerability in the form of a metaphorical highway, full of different vehicles of all shapes and sizes—some travelling at ambitious speeds, others awfully lethargic. Drivers with dissimilar motives, all travelling to the same destination. No matter which track we focus on, or which vehicle we end up in, understanding our emotions is the shared destination. Then—Frank disappeared, musically. It felt like a close friend had just dropped all of their emotions onto you, making you travel far and wide into the depths of your emotional trauma, and then disappeared, not even offering you any form of rehabilitation. The gusts of wind from the storm in my mind had opened doors that had been closed for years, and now they were slamming against the wall repeatedly.

“We'll run to the future, shining like diamonds. In a rocky world, rocky-rocky world.” On Blonde, the album hits the halfway mark on the ninth track, “Nights”. “Round the city, round the clock. Everybody needs you.” There is no comparison to be made here, because art doesn’t exist in the world to be compared to past art. Art that has expired; art that isn’t relevant to the artist anymore. Past feelings—vulnerable rooms that have now been closed off. Articles I wrote last year are still feelings that once existed, but ones that I am finished with. Frank goes into “Nights”, talking about how he’s dealt with his ex. His lovelife has expanded and deflated, and his influence on people is unmatched and dangerous. Amidst all that, he’s trying to maintain a conversation with himself about his emotions with a former relationship. Frank had his own things to deal with. Following the release and reception of Channel Orange and the way it made us feel, the artist who constructed it would have had to endure a similar journey to us, if not worse. Worried, Frank recaps his journey for us and just continues his regular hazy romantic rhetoric, almost forgetting about us. What he put us through, and what the days have felt like since he left.

Channel Orange opened our eyes to the vulnerability of the masculine world. He gave us hope, the worst present of all, and then left for four years. Three years ago, Frank Ocean released Blonde. I, like many people in this world, had been disenchanted before its release. He gave us so much and then ran away. But behind the artist is a man who has his own personal life and ambitions. Most of the time with artists, we believe that they achieve their personal ambitions when they become a Grammy-winning, million-dollar songwriter. Frank left, and went about his life, leaving us to go on with ours. On Channel Orange, the album hits the halfway mark on the tenth track, “Pyramids”.

The guitars blare and the strings are ripped unapologetically as Frank hollers at his former relationship, tearing the chords and melodies we have gotten so used to throughout the album. A digital alarm clock goes off, and the sound of a reversed kick drum illustrates a zip closing up a vacuum bag. Frank, for the first time ever, acknowledges that he is fully aware of his impact and his influence on us: “Every night fucks every day up. Every day patches the night up.”

Kii Small

Salient, I'm concerned about the colours of the magazine. Chiefly, the colours blue and green. Yeah, Te Ao Marama was gorgeous but reminded me of the climate crisis and the blue always reminds me of the earth and how much we have to protect. Is Salient pushing an environmental agenda? If so, please don't stop.

Send your letters to editor@salient.org.nz

Love, Save the Earth

The following advertisement is intended for Jim Boonie only. It's free! Real Estate! We're giving you land! It's free. We're giving you a house. It's real estate. Free. Its a free house for you, Jim. This is free real estate! You gotta bring furniture, but the house is free! Two bedrooms, no rugs. It's free! You unlock the door to your free house, we got you the real estate! It's a two bedroom house, its free, its got a pool in the back. I'm not carrying this around all day! It's for your house! Free real estate i'll pee my pants. Jim, come get your damn land. It's a free house! Jim, I got real estate. Jim, does it get better than this? Jim! The house is free! Jim! The house is free! Its a free f**king house.

Dear Salient, I have some concerns about the horoscopes this week. As a Libra, I was expecting fog and energy vampires. I have a lot of fog but no energy vampires so I was wondering: is the fog the energy vampire? I was talking to my friend who is a Virgo and she was concerned. She hasn't had time to get down to Oriental Bay this week. Is her chance of encountering obnoxious people in floral shirts gone forever? she had to go to Kaffee Eis to get gelato alone, which as we know, is one of the great Wellington tragedies (the other great wellington tragedies are wearing lipgloss and not tying your hair up then having the wind change to a southerly and having the five cafes you hate most be your friends favourite cafes). My only means of accessing the future is through the Salient horoscopes so I hope that they continue to be very accurate.

It's free real estate. NgÄ mihi, Yung_bluray

Sincerely, Ora Kill

I'm really loving the design this year of Salient. 10/10, top notch, high quality, A+, you can tell she's going places, she deserves a raise, give that girl a prize, aesthetic, frame it, hang it on the wall, appreciate it, bask in its glow, anticipate next weeks issue, then rinse and repeat.

Why can't those people who cough, clear their throats and sniffle so much in the "Quiet study areas" of the library do their noisy activities elsewhere? Does it ever occur to them to sit in a part of the Library (like the 2nd or eastern 3rd floors) where making noise is condoned? All it takes is one person (normally a male) to be coughing or whatever and any chance of "quiet study" is ruined. I'm sick of them. The same applies to those who sit in those same "Quiet areas" and whisper endlessly to each other. Why don't they sit where they can talk easily to each other without annoying anybody? Like, duh...

Love from Rachels #1 fan

Happy birthday to our incredibly talented Sub Editor, Janne Song! We love you! We know you'll edit this letter to make it sound better!

Cheers. Osiris

Best, Salient

Dear Salient, I hope you are all well. I would like to take the time out to say this magazine is f*cking great. I look forward to grabbing a copy each week and reading it while I munch on my half stale home brought sandwich. It significantly improves my day and distracts me from the hell that is studying. Keep up the good work.

Letters must be received before Tuesday 5 p.m. for publication the following week. They must be 200 words or less. Letters will not be corrected for spelling or grammar. Salient reserves the right to edit, abridge, or decline any letter without explanation.

Cheers, Brad

I wrote this poem one day out of concern for the future of people who look like me. So, brown students, this one’s for you. I am constantly bombarded by messages about how my race is something that will count against me in the minds of fairer-skinned folk. I am told that I must view anything said or done by a white person with suspicion. Their laughter is likely to be at my expense. Their gain stems from my loss. And maybe that is true. But I don’t believe that is the best lens through which you can view your life.

Send your letters to editor@salient.org.nz

You surely must have heard this debate by now. One side yells that they should be free to say whatever they want whenever they want. The other side yells that to hold that position is racist and further, those people’s opinion on the subject is invalid because they are white. I ask you to ignore both of those groups of people. Both of them seem like they’d be shit company at a party.

An Unseen Enemy I dug a trench outside my closet To keep the monsters out But barbs and spikes they could not stop The voices oh so loud “What if the beast can fly?” They say “Or what if it can crawl?” And so I lay a thousand bricks To build a better wall At last, I might feel maybe safe What could get through that? And really, what’s the price I pay? Aside from being trapped

Instead, I urge you to think for yourself about what racism is and what the response to it should be. I don’t think we’re all the way there yet. But I also don’t think that the way to make things better is to start buying into the rhetoric that there is a racist white person behind every closet door. I would urge you to approach life with an open mind and try to understand the intention behind peoples’ actions. There is enough racism in the world without needing to read in extra. Life is too short. I urge you not to cut yourself off from the rest of the world by assuming that it’s out to get you. Not every old, white, male is the bad guy in your story. Assuming that they are is both unfair to them and you. Who knows what assistance they might be able to provide you on your journey? If you don’t give them a chance, you are guaranteed to get nothing. But often you may find that they want to help you succeed.

P.S Here’s my email and you can find me on Facebook if you want to talk. I might be a brown girl but I’m not afraid to leave my name.

If you too have found yourself in the position of being scared of what’s in this metaphorical closet, try opening the door. You never know, it might be empty. And if it’s not, at least you’ll have a better idea of what the monster actually looks like. If you find one hit me up. We can fight it together.

Leilani.taula@outlook.com

God bless.

ISSUE 22

SALIENT

News. MONDAY, 23 SEPTEMBER 2019

Mana Whenua Come to Agreement on Ihumātao

Protect Ihumātao supporters outside Parliament earlier this year. Photo by Elliot Blyth.

Last Wednesday, it was announced that the mana whenua of Ihumātao had agreed that the whenua should be returned to them. Currently held by Fletchers, a statement from the Kiingitanga read that consensus had been reached by mana whenua representatives, both those initially supporting development, and those opposed. A spokesperson for Kiingi Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII said, “Mana whenua agreed the return of the land is outside of the Treaty of Waitangi settlement process and therefore requires an innovative and modern solution.” The statement ended by saying, “Kiingitanga has conveyed the views of mana whenua to the government and urged it to negotiate with Fletchers for the return of Ihumātao to its rightful owners."

ISSUE 22

SALIENT

VUWSA AGM: Election Results, A Cheeky Deficit, and Constitutional Stuff JOHNNY O’HAGAN BREBNER (HE/HIM) The 2019 VUWSA AGM was held last Wednesday in a wellfilled Hub, more than can be said for the following GWRC forum.

For the benefit of one particular reader, Salient will be spending more on more environmentally sustainable ink, the cost of which will be offset by a possible reduction in page count.

The agenda covered the standard issues: half-yearly reports, an outline of the association’s recent financial position and 2020 budget, a swathe of constitutional changes, the awarding of a life membership—and, of course, the VUWSA election results.

Constitutional Changes VUWSA went hard on the constitution, largely to simplify language. More functional changes included allowing the exec to unanimously appoint one life member a year, as well as making all past presidents life members by default.

Half-Yearly Reports 2019 President Tamatha Paul started off with her President’s Report, outlining the work of the 2019 exec on issues ranging from mental health to lecture recordings, to Toitū te Ao.

The presidential income was changed to be pegged to the living wage, rather than the previous inflation-adjusted salary they received.

All of the executive were acknowledged, but special praise was made of Gerard Hoffman, who was granted a life membership. The membership was awarded by 2018 President Marlon Drake, who Hoffman had worked closely as the university’s Manager of Student Counselling.

Notably, Ngāi Tauira president(s) are now to be ex officio members of the executive with normal voting rights, with one vote available. Salient was also affected: As well as finally being acknowledged as “more than just a newspaper”, the appointment of the editor has been moved out of the constitution and into policy. However, appointments still must have regard to— amongst other things—the Salient Charter, which is still in the constitution.

Reports were also adopted from other executive positions. Money and Stuff The AGM saw the 2018 audit, 2019 balance sheet, and 2020 budget presented and accepted. VUWSA itself, not including its subsidiaries, made a net loss of $112,457 in 2018, down from a $5,950 profit in 2017.

A lot of other changes were made, but these are just the big ones. Check out the proposed amendments online for the rest.

CEO Matt Tucker informed Salient that the 2018 loss was from an unconditional $150,000 payment to the VUWSA Trust, which undertakes some investments and spending on students for VUWSA. Additionally, VUWSA ended 2018 with $8,611,420 in net assets, down by $72,241 from 2017.

Election Results Finally, returning officer Lars Thomson read out the results of the election for the 2020 VUWSA exec. Full results are available through VUWSA. In the meantime, the winners are: Geo Rorbigado as President, Rinaldo Strydom as Academic Vice President (VP), Michael Turnbull as Welfare VP, Joanna Li as Engagement VP, Ralph Zambrano as TreasurerSecretary, Grace Carr as Campaigns Officer, Tara O’Connor as Clubs and Activities Officer, Taylah Shuker as Education Officer, Parminder Kaur as Equity Officer, and Sophie Brooker as Wellbeing and Sustainability Officer.

As of June 2019, VUWSA had $711,043.50 in net assets. Tucker put Tamatha to shame on the spending front, with a mighty $2,929.16 racked up on his VISA and Tam with only $1,137.09. Going into 2020, the budget anticipates a $6,677.53 deficit, although it was carefully to point out that this represents a smaller actual deficit than in 2018 ($112,457 for VUWSA, not including accounts from its subsidiaries). A number of changes to income and expenses were listed, (check it out yourself).

The real winners, however, were Janne and Rachel, who won Salient’s election sweepstakes. Congratulations all.

News.

Your 2020 VUWSA Exec. Joanna Li and Taylah Shuker absent. Photo supplied.

Are You There Youths? It’s Me, People Who Want to be Your Mayor. FINN BLACKWELL (HE/HIM) With the Wellington City Mayoral race in full swing, Salient sat down with mayoral candidate, Conor Hill and incumbent Justin Lester to talk about some of the main focuses of their campaigns. Keep an eye on Salient for our interviews with other mayoral candidates in the coming issues, if they end up returning our calls. Have there been any significant updates regarding the rental property Warrant of Fitness? Lester: “We had a change of government and they've introduced the healthy homes guarantee. The health care legislation that came through Parliament has now been approved, which has minimum standards for insulation and minimum requirements around heating for housing as well.” Hill: “I would like to adapt the current rental warrant fitness. Currently, only landlords can apply for that. I think tenants should be able to apply for the rental warrant of fitness and I think the council should pay for that.” We have a number of VUW students currently running for Wellington City Council, what would be your advice to them?

Lester: “Be yourself. Be genuine. But most of all, work hard, because every election I've seen, those with the best knowledge and the best ideas and the best track record, they're candidates that tend to win.” Hill: “Honestly, I'd be taking advice from them. This is my first time running a campaign, so I'm on a steep learning curve.” With carbon emissions being added to the Resource Management Act, what environmental areas of focus will you be narrowing in on? Lester: “I think we ought to focus on public transport because it is so important to the city’s function, and to the city’s focus on climate change and emission reduction as well—58% of our emissions come from transport. We want an organisation that's really focussed on public transport provision.” Hill: “As mayor, I would push to actually start implicating, start making moves based on that [declaration of] climate change emergency. A week after that climate change emergency was declared, Justin Lester opened a petrol station. To me, that's just a cynical empty declaration of climate change emergency.

ISSUE 22

SALIENT

Canta Editor Calling For Editorial Independence ESME HALL (CRITIC) ADDITIONAL REPORTING JOHNNY O’HAGAN BREBNER (SALIENT)

Samantha Mythen, the Editor of Canta (the University of Canterbury’s student magazine), is fighting for editorial independence. She is alleging that, since her time as Editor, UCSA have stopped her publishing stories that are critical of the students’ association or even of the University itself. Canta must be approved by the University of Canterbury Students’ Association (UCSA) communications manager before going to print. This week she will take her Change.org petition that has 1500 signatures to the USCA Exec to prove that Canterbury students want independent student media. UCSA CEO Dave Hawkey said he could not comment on the petition as it has not been presented to the UCSA, but “from discussions with OUSA it would appear that Canta operates in a similar fashion to Critic”. “No it doesn’t,” said Critic Editor Charlie O’Mannin. “Critic is an editorially independent department of OUSA.” As a law student who wants to be a journalist, Samantha said the lack of editorial independence “didn’t sit right” with her. “As time went by we started looking into issues with the University and UCSA and met increasing resistance,” she said. Samantha alleges that an opinion piece comparing the new UCSA building, Haere-roa, and an old earthquake-damaged UCSA building was held back from being published. “If it was a thorough investigation with evidence I would have offered them right of reply,” she said, but “it was an opinion piece and I didn’t see why I needed to check it off ”. In response, UCSA CEO said the piece about Haere-roa “had a lot of incorrect information in it”. Dave said he “met with the student to correct some assumptions,” including that the student levy collected by the University came directly to the UCSA. Although in Samantha’s time as Editor, only one story has been held back, she said former contributors have told her their stories were cut or they were pressured to edit them to be more UCSA-friendly. Samantha feels the approval process was “clear censorship”.

She raised it with UCSA President Sam Brosnahan who said she needed to prove students actually want Canta to be more than “a mouthpiece of UCSA,” as Samantha calls it. So she started the petition, which has gained over 1500 signatures and media attention from The Press. Sam Brosnahan said as a UCSA-administered product, UCSA has a “duty of care” to ensure “a professional, accurate, and well-presented publication,” but, “if a higher degree of editorial independence is what current UC-students want, we have to be open to hearing that”. Samantha alleges she has experienced pushback from within UCSA. Samantha alleged, “the President is scared of Canta becoming independent” and “isn’t sure why so many students support it”. She said individual Exec members don’t outright support her, citing what she calls “buzzwords” like ‘budget’ and ‘structure’. She is unsure if the Canta budget is relevant to the question of media independence. Samantha said UCSA needs to step up for students. “This is the city of the earthquakes and the shooting, UCSA should be at the frontline of student organisations,” she said. “I’m not trying to hate on Canterbury Uni or the UCSA,” she said, “but being a student is hard,” and you need to know someone is in your corner. Investigation into past UCSA minutes showed that Canta’s editorial independence was reined in after a 2015 issue was pulled from stands after publishing a story about rape in video games. Independence was proposed again in 2015 and gained Exec approval in 2016. But, “staffing and performance issues” saw the role brought back “in-house” that year with the intention that Canta would go independent in 2016. However, Josh Brosnahan, a professional editor, was hired in 2017 and talk of an independent Canta stopped until Samantha replaced Josh in July 2019. Josh Brosnahan said he felt the majority of Canta content was not sanitised or vetoed, but there “were some things removed [...] that I would have left in”. He never spoke up as he didn’t think change was possible and thought independent student

News.

voice could still be expressed through letters to the Editor and opinion pieces.

Canta’s structure to the UCSA, which “had material around independence in it,” but nothing was done by UCSA.

Hannah Herchenbach was Canta editor 2011 to 2013, going part-time in 2014 while she attended journalism school. She never challenged Canta’s editorial independence as she said, “it’s a quick fire method of job suicide to bite the hand that pays you”. “Show me one magazine that attacks its revenue stream, and I’ll show you a magazine that is about to fold,” she said.

Ross said close collaboration between UC Journalism School and Canta has always faced “the key sticking point[s]” that Canta is not a digital product, and not editorially independent. While UC Journalism students do submit to Canta when their stories are a good fit, “until things are changed, we won’t [collaborate further]”.

Tara Ross is a Senior Lecturer in Journalism at the University of Canterbury and said she thinks Samantha is “incredibly brave”. “It’s a difficult position to be in as an employee,” but said she’s “surprised no one’s pushed for it”. Ross said Journalism School staff have offered Canta editors help to rethink the magazine’s structure. In 2015, UC Journalism students even submitted a research report on

The Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA) said, “Student media exists to fight for students and an essential part of that is the freedom to hold universities and students’ associations to account.” “ASPA opposes UCSA’s undue interference with Canta,” said a statement signed by the editors of Craccum, Debate, Nexus, Massive, Salient, and Critic. Samantha will meet with UCSA staff on Friday 20 September and present her petition to the Exec on Monday 23.

Mid 2015

Editorial policy changes proposed after offensive article

Late 2015

New Prez and 2015 UCSA work on an independent Canta policy

Early 2016

Independent Canta launched

2016

Independent Canta scrapped, brought "back in house"

End of 2016

Professional editor employed (Josh Busnahan)

2017

Editor role combined with other UCSA media responsibilities

Mid 2019

Sam Mythen takes over as editor with less UCSA media responsibilities

Sept 2019

Sam launches independent Canta petition

ISSUE 22

SALIENT

Toitū te Ao: A Week of Celebrating a Better Future SOPHIE DIXON (SHE/THEY) Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori 2019 was themed “Kia Kaha Te Reo Maori”, or “let's make the Māori language strong”. VUWSA combined this with Sustainability Week to create Toitū te Ao. Ngāi Tairua representatives said this “enabled the overall concept of kaitiakitanga to be shared, and that “it is these two kaupapa which indeed hold immense value to our Māori students, especially as tangata whenua.” VUWSA also spoke about the importance of linking indigenous solutions to viable, local, innovative approaches to sustainability global issues. The events ranged from panels to hīkoi to events. OpSoc held an event, with organiser Sophie Brooker emphasising the knowledge gained: “Mending and upcycling are vital skills to facilitate a transition away from fast fashion and achieve a circular economy.” The hīkoi for Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori was attended by many, with Ngāi Tairua highlighting the university's connection with schoolchildren “who depend on our continuation of Te Reo Māori as our indigenous language”.

VUWSA noted the strong levels of participation and engagement at the market stalls at Te Aro on Tuesday, and at Kelburn on Wednesday at the expo day. Stalls were occupied by local businesses, organisations, and advocacy groups. The VUW Student Strike held banner-painting sessions at both marketplaces to raise awareness ahead of the march this week. Organiser Raven Maeder said, "It was inspiring to see everyone come together to celebrate the many ways in which we care for people and Papatūānuku.” She added that she was excited “to show our leaders that we are united in our call for climate justice". Generation Zero held a Climate Emergency Panel focusing on decolonising while sustaining a just transition, with speakers from Pacific Climate Warriors, NIWA, and Wellington City Council. The UN’s Sustainable Development Goals were translated into Te Reo Māori, and displayed in the Hub to demonstrate the university’s commitment to a local approach to global challenges.

VUW Launches Carbon Neutral 2030 Plan SHANTI MATHIAS (SHE/HER) As part of Sustainability Week, Victoria University has launched a Zero Carbon Plan. The plan aims to make the university a net zero emissions organisation by 2030, with a 20% reduction in gross emissions, and offsetting schemes to make the activities to make up the rest. The launch of the plan was held in the Hub on September 13. A panel, including Grant Guilford and James Shaw, spoke about the values of sustainability. The panel answered questions on the impact of aviation for staff in the university, the business opportunities of sustainability, and the scholarships the university offers which are funded by petrochemical corporations. Andrew Wilks said that Grant Guilford was the “chief cheerleader for the Zero Carbon Plan”. Although the launch coincided with Te Wiki o te Reo Māori, there was no mention of how the plan would incorporate mātauranga Māori beyond the Living Pā proposal.

There was no formal consultation with Māori or Pacific groups in the process of creating the plan, according to Wilks. However, there are opportunities for continued engagement with Māori in the future. The university’s push for international students, who must fly to attend university is “an awkward element, there’s no way around it,” said Wilks. Student flights are not incorporated into emissions accounting, as that is “not done anywhere else”. Emissions will be reduced through low-emission development of buildings on campus, replacing natural gas boilers with low-emission alternatives, and generating renewable energy on campus, mainly through solar panels. Offsetting will largely be done by tree planting and managed by the university. As part of the Zero Carbon Plan, the university has revised its emissions accounting to be more accurate.

News.

Opinion. Buying a Prius and Solar Panels For My Summer Bach Because Climate Change xo RACHAEL BROWN (SHE/HER) MASTERS OF DEVELOPMENT STUDIES As I pondered my two-hour morning lecture on the history of genocidal violence in West Papua, I walked through the Hub, where the “Your Zero Carbon University” talk was taking place. There were a few points of interest that caught my attention. One, there were more photographers than students in attendance. Two, hardly anyone knew about the talk. Three, mad props to Helena Fuluifaga, the only non-white speaker on the panel (also the only student). Four, the accompanying VUW advertising banner had a picture of some zoomed-up NZ bird feathers backing some “VUW FOR SUSTAINABILITY” signage. Yeah, this really hit home the theme of multicultural inclusivity. Oh, and five, Climate Minister and Green Party MP James Shaw pronounced “mana” like it had three As. “Maaaana.” For those who didn’t attend this event, allow me to summarise what James Shaw and Vice-Chancellor Grant Guilford said about the future of the Zero Carbon Bill, and VUW’s equivalent Zero Carbon Plan. Yes, team, we can still use cars, we just need to buy hybrids. And yes! We can still have successful careers after we graduate from Vic! The economy will just switch to renewable energy and be more sustainable and live laugh love, etc. Essentially, with a flourishing of hands, our lives will be great and mostly the same—Zero Carbon means we just need to change how we charge and power our heaters. Also something about using Skype instead of airplanes? What struck me most about these speeches was how different the “zero carbon future” that James and Grant talked about was, compared to the perspective of Helena, a representative from the Pacific Climate Warriors. Helena drew on her Sāmoan heritage, her family, her language, and memories of visiting Sāmoa. She talked about her future with ‘if ’ hanging

ever over it. In her narrative, the sustainability of the future in the face of climate change was more than sustainable energy sources. It literally determined whether or not the islands that formed the backdrop for her, her family, and her community would actually exist if the Bill didn’t succeed. None of what James or Grant said acknowledged this lived experience. Whose future is the Zero Carbon Bill intending to preserve, then? James, what about people whose car choices are being pushed aside with thoughts of their sinking homelands? Who don’t have baches to visit on the weekend, who are instead trying to keep the only households they do own warm and dry in the winter? That are too busy working overtime and taking care of their families to have time to sit in the backyard that they might not even have and listen to birds whose species we apparently saved by buying KeepCups? Grant, you’re overflowing with excitement about the sheer number of economic prospects in the post-carbon future. Sounds like the Bill is an exciting career opportunity with a growing ‘sustainable economy’ promise, but what about students who can’t even afford to get here? How does the Zero Carbon Bill build “sustainable”, “new” career opportunities for our Pacific Island/Māori/Indigenous students who have so jump many hurdles to even attain a tertiary education? Did either of you consider that maybe the Zero Carbon Bill shouldn’t just be about changing energy sources, but changing attitudes that cater to more than just preserving the upper middle-class lifestyles and career choices within Aotearoa? Were tangata whenua even consulted in any part of this conversation? Whose future are you actually looking to preserve?

ISSUE 22

SALIENT

Government Announces New Mental Health Policies ANNABEL MCCARTHY (SHE/HER) The government announced a raft of mental health initiatives earlier this month, including details of its long-awaited Suicide Prevention Strategy.

However, the government has come under fire for not implementing a specific Māori suicide prevention strategy.

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern and Health Minister David Clark began a week-long series of announcements by revealing a boost in funding for more than 20 underfunded frontline services.

The Whakamanawa report, a summary of Māori submissions made to the government’s mental health and addiction inquiry, heavily supported a separate Māori strategy. The report recommended it be designed and run by Māori, for Māori.

Victoria University’s Mauri Ora is one practice which will receive additional funding.

A Suicide Prevention Office was also announced to lead efforts in the area.

David Clark said the investment will make it easier for people in distress to access help earlier which will “prevent small issues becoming major problems”.

The final announcement of the week included details of the government’s initial Mental Health and Wellbeing Commission.

The government also released Every Life Matters, a strategy and action plan to reduce the rate of suicide in New Zealand. New Zealand’s suicide rate is 11.3 per 100,000 people—a “national tragedy” according to the Prime Minister. This figure increases sharply to 28 per 100,000 for the Māori population. The changes announced include free counselling for those bereaved by suicide, extra support services for high risk groups like Māori, Pasifika, and gender-diverse people, and better support for children and young people in schools.

The commission will provide independent scrutiny of the government’s progress in improving New Zealand’s mental health and wellbeing and promote collaboration between mental health groups. It will also pave the way for a permanent commission which is to start work in February 2021 once a law is passed. However, mental health advocates say there is a lack of people with lived experience on the commission. Kelly Pope is the only member who has personally been through the mental health system.

School Strike for Climate Staying Hot SHANTI MATHIAS (SHE/HER) Victoria University and VUWSA have endorsed the intergenerational School Strike for Climate planned from September 27. The strike follows two school strikes earlier this year. Connie Brown, a member of the group organising the strike on campus, says that coordinating has required communication and negotiation with people in other parts of New Zealand and overseas, including communicating with the City Council, VUWSA, and university administration. “The university have been really supportive of us,” Brown says. All classes for the duration of the strike will be recorded and tests during the time can be rescheduled. "VUWSA encourages all students to come along and stand in solidarity with us. Let’s demand urgent action on the climate crisis from the New Zealand government and fight for our future," said VUWSA president Tamatha Paul. “There is a pressing need for universities like ours to lead change. We do this through our teaching and research, by reducing our own carbon footprint, and through positive, collective action like this.” said Vice Chancellor Grant Guildford in a statement. A contingent of marchers from VUW will be meeting at the Tim

Beaglehole courtyard at 10:30 a.m. on September 27, then walking down the Terrace and along Cuba Street to Civic Square, joining the main strike, which leaves Civic Square at noon to head towards Parliament. On campus, SS4C members are co-hosting the strike with 350 Pacific, the Pacific Climate Warriors group. Helena Fuluifaga Chan Fuong, a member of the group, said, “This partnership is super important because we’re all going to be affected by climate change and we are going to be affected in different ways.” Internationally, the main action was on Sep 20. However, due to mock exams, the organisers of the New Zealand protest decided to reschedule for Sep 27, the last day of school term, so that it is easier for school students to attend. NZUSA, the representative group for student associations in New Zealand, also endorses the strike. “Twenty years down the track, if you weren’t there, you’re going to regret it,” said Abi O’Regan, another member of the climate strike organisational team. “Universities are supposed to be the critical consciousness of society so it’s important that we engage.”

News.

PROBING THE PUNTERS: LOCAL BODY ELECTION ISSUES

WHAT ARE THE KEY ISSUES YOU'D LIKE TO SEE ADRESSED THIS LOCAL BODY ELECTIONS?

WE PUBLISH YOUR ANSWERS

Sexual violence prevention

Changing how we collect rates (land value tax)

Voting Justin Lester out

Land value taxation

Public transport

Total opposition to a Land Value Tax

Imprison Justin Lester

Absolute pedestrianisation of the Golden Strip

Greater promotion of all progressive and social groups (a form of mental health support)

Mental health

Accessing candidate information

Environment

Money

Stress

Library services

Affordable and accessible housing

“They really let you taste the juice, unlike that pre-done shit,” said Newtown resident Kyle Kyleson.

“Plus they’re, like, way cheaper than buying a pack of Haizes.” Local softboi James McLaughlin said in a statement via his Tinder bio, “I roll my own vapes, so you know I’m good with my fingers.” “I love using them for chop with my THC cart,” said an anonymous Cuba Street resident. “It hits you way harder.” Local hospo worker Dave Frizton told Salient, “I’ve been seeing all these dumb kids on the vape, so I switched to pouches.” He sticks his tongue out and lets out a cloud of vapour. “After all, I wouldn’t want to look like an idiot.”

CAMPUS TV HEADLINE WRITER TELLS ALL, HEADLI NES THEMSELVES DON'T

A representative for Cosmic told us that the vape pouches are some of their best sellers, alongside “rolling papers, 20-dollar pairs of socks, and bongs—I mean, tobacco water pipes.”

S HO RT M EAT CARC AS S

In an exclusive interview, Barah Vent, head of communication at VUW, revealed how headlines are selected to go on TV screens.

When approached for comment, all vape pouch users insisted they were “way better for you”. None were able to explain how.

“For many students, the campus TVs are the only source of news beyond the university, as well as information about events that happened at the university six months ago,” she told Salient.

NATIONAL MP’S CONTROVERSI AL NEW BILL FOLLOWING ABORTION REFORM

“We try to make the content as compelling as possible, so that students will stare at the screens instead of going to their classes.”

J ACK SON GR AH AM (H E /H IM )

Simeon Brown, MP for Pakuranga and one of our most conservative lawmakers, has today called for the government to immediately fund a highchair to replace the traditional seat where he is normally found moping inside the House of Representatives.

In compiling the scrolling headlines at the bottom of screens, Vent said that three key components are necessary. “First, you need a minor celebrity, such as the wife of a retired rugby player."

Following a tear-filled outburst standing against the recently tabled Crimes Act (Abortion Reform) Bill, the MP was infuriated to discover his vote was not counted—following a mistake by the Clerk, who neglected to count the small Auckland politician who was unable to be seen amongst the much taller National MPs.

"Second, it is essential to have no context whatsoever, so that anyone reading the headline has no clue where to get anything that might help understanding it." "Finally, each headline must end with an ellipsis…. as otherwise there is no tension, no poetry, no momentum within the headline.”

Speaking to the media, Brown said, “It’s about making a statement for those without a voice, both for those in the womb and those who get mistaken for teenagers in their dad’s formalwear.”

At press time, Vent had sent Salient a follow-up form alleging that part of her “plan for world domination” involved “making all students entirely dependent on campus TV screens for all their information” and “destroying smartphones”.

At 28, Simeon Brown is one of the youngest MPs in parliament, and is not unfamiliar with being forgotten or confused with someone else: “It all started during the first Sitting Week, when Trevor Mallard mistook me for Baby Neve and demanded he ‘get a hold of the new baby’.”

VAPE POUCHES HIT WELLINGTON HARDER THAN A 100-NIC HEADRUSH, MAAAATE

Upon hearing the announcement, National Party spokesperson for Youth, Nicola Willis, praised the announcement, “I just think it’s fantastic to see young people getting involved in politics and I know the little squirt will go far.”

REID WIC KS

A new trend has taken Wellington by storm: Vape pouches are the latest in a long line of stimulants Wellingtonians have crammed into their orifices. An alternative to “pre-rolled” vapes, the new vape pouches are said to be “way cheaper bro” and “just kinda better-tasting”.

Salient sought a comment from the National MP, but was turned away from his parliamentary office as it was “nap time” and his assistant told us he “gets cranky” if awoken too early.

Eavesdropping on a first date between two movieaged people. The man's been talking at length about his specific requirements for a partner, and the woman just told him what he probably wants is "a high-class call girl" - @mistertodd

i hate games that go "oh you're picking easy? you're picking fucking easy? the child mode? are you a fucking baby? fuck you. you stupid fucking idiot baby." its like bro i got a mortgage i dont need this shit - @goodbyecomputer

One time a friend of mine said they hate sleeping because "it's basically just fast traveling to work" and I felt that deeply. - @CelticAnarchy

CANCELLED CULTURE TWEETS L O V INGLY HAND-CURAT ED BY EM M A M AGUIRE

@em_ma_maguire Actually you can only call it “Coffee” if it comes from the Wellington region in New Zealand - @BenThomasNZ I fucking hate adobe and the cloud and adobe cloud and cloudy adobe and fucking just put the fucking software and the fucking fonts on my fucking machine and leave me the fuck alone you fucking fucks - @Megapope

And at the 2083 Wellington mayoral debate, held in cool September 35-degree heat, candidates were asked, yes or no, if they favoured a sixth Mt Vic car tunnel and a 12th lane to the planes. - @malosilima

“f Gary Larson returns with The Far Side and opens up on some joke about a cow identifying as a combine harvester I swear to God I will break someone” - @FreyjaErlings wellington is fab if you think policy goody 2 shoes guys are hot @CatarinaZissou

my friend made it to the shortlist as the Auckland gay for MAFS and he messaged me like THANK GOD i pulled out, i've already slept with the chch guy - @_snozzberry_

one time a guy rubbed my coochie over my leggings for not even 30 seconds, stopped, looked me dead in my eyes and asked “did I get ya?” - @eboybitch

Was turned down for a job because I incorrectly answered what Hogwarts House I was in. I guess some millennials stereotype are true. - @badfolklorist who cares that someone got fired from SNL for doing a racist joke. i know someone who got fired from their job for wearing shorts.i got fired from a job once for calling in sick. wheres my $30k gofundme - @Tormny_Pickeals

Pablo Monteverde-Young

FORBIDDEN FRUIT “There is no such thing as free will,” a friend told me not too long ago. His words made me wonder whether or not Eve and Adam had any say in being brought into this world. I also ended up pondering questions like: Did Eve pick and eat that juicy fruit of her own volition? And is it fair to blame her for sending humanity down a path of sinful imperfection when she herself had no awareness of what sin was? We’ll see.

So how does free will come into play? Was Eve’s picking of the fruit simply a voluntary decision or was it destined to happen? Maybe Eve is to blame... however, she was influenced... so maybe the snake (Satan) is to blame. Maybe it’s neither. Think about this: Adam and Eve didn’t choose to be brought into this world. It was God’s decision. So I suppose their will was God’s will. If Adam and Eve had no concept of morality (pre-fruit) then how were they to know that what they were about to do was wrong? If Adam and Eve were created in the image of God, does the fact that Eve fucked up prove that even God—in all their different forms—is flawed? And if God’s will is to be done, that must mean that ‘the original sin’ was all part of his master plan.

If you woke up this morning and decided to put on a red t-shirt instead of that yellow hoodie, not only did you (once again) underestimate the Wellington climate, but you probably also assumed that you made the choice voluntarily. Maybe you’re the kind of person who believes in free will. Maybe you’re not—maybe you’re aware of the fact that the reason you keep repeating that third-year paper stems more from your general disinterest in the subject than your inability to timemanage. I digress. Uncle G(oogle) defines the concept easily enough: the freedom of humans to make choices that are not determined by prior causes or by divine intervention. Seems pretty straightforward.

By taking a bite of that fruit, Adam and Eve were just exploring the options made available to them as living humans (which, admittedly, weren’t many). Keep in mind that God had created all their options. If he really didn’t want them eating the forbidden fruit, you’d think he would have put the tree in the corner or something, not smack-bang in the middle of the garden. But that’s a story for another day.

So what about the anti-free will camp? Well, they would argue that human behaviour can always be explained through the laws of cause and effect. Woman is hungry, woman eats. Man feels rumbles in stomach, man uses wharepaku. The idea is thus: all events are caused by something and our actions are predetermined. So when you end up disregarding this article as heresy (‘fUck yOu, I cHosE mY oWn oUtfiT ToDaY’), it will have been because firstly, you were browsing through this particular edition of Salient, and secondly, because you’re studing at Vic and/or have an interest in student literature. Think: cause and effect. You can dig back as far as you like. What led you to enroll at Vic? Why was it an option for you? What was your upbringing like? How did it mold you as a person? It’s wild shit.

Just like Eve and Adam, you also didn’t choose to be brought into this world. It was the will of the universe (and maybe your parents) that sent you on a journey of discovery. Just think of all the opportunities and options you’ve had in life, especially since starting at university and assuming new responsibilities—meeting people, joining a club, trying a new sport, picking up a part-time job. And now, here you are... reading this particular article, in this particular magazine, from this particular university, in this particular city, at this particular moment in time. It’s surreal how life works. It is said that each time a male ejaculates, up to a billion sperm cells are released. What's more, the odds of you being that one sperm to fertilise your mother’s ovary are so unimaginable that even Marvel’s Avengers would have their doubts. You are you. You! The only you. Me is no you. Only you is you. But! You were only ever going to be you, there was never going to be another you.

Now back to the story. As per the Bible, Adam then Eve were created as the first humans, in the image of God, and tasked with birthing humankind and acting as stewards over everything God had created up until that point. They’re naked. They have no shame. They’re chillin’. They’re in a garden and God has said something like, “Hey guys. Please don’t eat that fruit over there.”

I know the whole idea can sound a little depressing— the suggestion that you have no control over your own decisions, and that in actuality, all the choices you make are predetermined. But whether you believe in free will or not, it’s pretty cool to know that you’re playing an important part in the unfolding story of the universe.

Do you really think Eve was just going to sit around and eat the same produce for the rest of her life while the most tempting of all (that which hung from the Tree of Knowledge) lay in the middle of the garden within arm’s reach? Of course Eve was gonna eat that shit—serpent or no serpent. And so, upon sharing the “Forbidden Fruit” (Cole & Kendrick, 2013), both Adam and Eve were granted the knowledge of good and evil and subsequently banished from the Garden of Eden.

“The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.”

Shanti Mathias

PAST BONES, PRESENT REALITIES

Alan Tennyson, Te Papa’s vertebrate curator, says New Zealand “is not the place to study dinosaurs”, as the fossil record is “extremely pathetic”. Preservation conditions mean that fossils from the Cretaceous Period are either nonexistent, eroded, hard to access, or all of the above. From a site in Hawkes Bay—worked over by Joan Wiffen and her husband for decades—as well as other locations around the country, enough bone fragments have been found to identify a range of dinosaurs which once lived here, but there will probably never be New Zealand equivalents to the kind of magnificent dinosaur fossils found elsewhere.

Once, dinosaurs walked the earth. They had claws and teeth, they dug burrows, nurtured their young, ate each other. For 80 million years, this was a planet of large and small, fast and slow reptilians; strange and dangerous to mammalian flesh. Then that world ended, and life kept changing to fill the spaces the dinosaurs had left. When the dinosaurs died, as far as we know—and it must be said that sometimes it feels like we know very little, and sometimes it feels like we know a great deal, and both are true—they did not expect to ever live again in movies and museums and imaginations. Life returns. Night becomes day. Endings become beginnings.

Dinosaurs are real, but the idea of them was created. “You never see [a picture of] a dinosaur without teeth,” says Gus Mitchell, dinosaur enthusiast and former Salient science columnist. In movies, we see dinosaurs hunting and eating— not lying down for ten days to digest a big meal. Dinosaurs are shaped as prompters of awe and fear, rather than as living animals, because they are known through fossils rather than flesh.

Scientifically, ‘dinosaur’ refers to everything in the clade Dinosauria, a diverse group of ancient reptiles that all evolved from a common ancestor. Modern-day birds are descended from theropod dinosaurs, and in this sense could be considered dinosaurs. Culturally, other ancient reptiles including marine plesiosaurs and mosasaurs, as well as pterodactyls and other pterosaurs—basically any large reptile alive in the Cretaceous Period—are all often referred to as dinosaurs, although they are not members of Dinosauria.

According to Gus, the appeal of dinosaurs over, say, a Cambrian era sea slug, is partially that they are “terrifying and

Shanti Mathias charismatic” but mostly that they had “a better ad campaign”. From toys to children’s books, then movies like Jurassic Park, there is a cultural idea of dinosaurs as much as a scientific one.

beautiful ones like the huia [also] get more attention than other extinct birds.” There are “lots of little birds that people haven’t really heard of,” and Te Papa’s collections are filled with small, neatly labelled bones which will probably never go on display.

Gus walks me through the ‘creation’ of dinosaurs from the early fossil hunters of the eighteenth century to the present day. From sculptures at the Crystal Palace world exhibition in 1851, lumpy and lumbering, to the sleek and swift velociraptors of Jurassic Park in 1993, it was not the dinosaurs that changed, but the human interpretation of them. As research into dinosaurs continues, the shape of dinosaurs changes too, even though species are static, trapped in a reality which ended.

Size, ultimately, is the point to which most people return when talking about compelling extinct animals. Ewan Fordyce, Professor of Geology at the University of Otago and paleobiology specialist, says “it was the large size [of dinosaurs] that astonished people”. It’s also about the fact that they’re vertebrates, that they walk easily into our imaginations. “[You] understand a bit about the animals when you see the skeleton,” he says, and apart from some trace fossils, the skeletons are often all we have to understand.

Zoë Stokes, like Gus, loves dinosaurs. When I talk to her, she’s wearing a jacket with dinosaur patches sewn on. Zoë, a drama student at Te Auaha, has written a thoroughly delightful feminist manifesto by altering a dinosaur colouring book, and is currently working on a piece of children’s theatre about dinosaurs. “[Dinosaurs] are considered kids’ things, but they’re from so far back that it puts your little life into perspective.”

At Otago Museum, I look at a plesiosaur which Fordyce excavated (the years-long process of preparing it for display was, he says, “an albatross around my neck”). The flippers reach into the stone, the spine curves, and yes—I can see it moving through bygone oceans, not the rock which holds it now.

Zoë started liking dinosaurs because her brother was given dinosaur toys, but preferred cars, and she sees the gendering of dinosaurs as one of the chief examples of how they are a cultural construction. “Dinosaurs didn’t have [gender] pressed on them, they were just dinosaurs, they ate every now and then and hung out, they lived with their instincts.”

There are ancient extinctions, caused by meteors (probably— this is subject to ferocious scientific debate) and climate shifts, complicated chains of events resurrected by reading the stories contained in rocks. But many of the extinct animals that Te Papa takes care of disappeared much more recently, with clearer causes. I talk to Tennyson in the collection centre at Te Papa: shelves of kākāpō skulls, pygmy whales, and crested penguins which will never move again.

The fact that science evolves, even as fossils stay the same, speaks to how science works. “The scientific reality and cultural consensus [about dinosaurs] move in lockstep,” Gus says— one following the other, always a gap. To him, this is part of the value of dinosaurs to science, especially those unfamiliar with the scientific method—like kids. “[Fossils] are such a good entry point for how science works in general. You piece things together to make an incomplete picture. Somebody proposes a hypothesis, and then they use evidence to back it up in the same way that a lawyer would.”

As Tennyson walks me through the collection, I hear a litany of extinction. “It was like a sledgehammer, human arrival,” he says. “These extinctions occurred in a period of relatively stable climate, so we can divorce natural climate impacts from human impacts.” Ferrets, cats, stoats and rats, arrows, guns and spears, forests replaced by monoculture, and now warming unpredictable weather: loss, and loss, and loss.

Dinosaurs are one reminder of extinction, but to start talking about a species that has disappeared from the planet is impossible: millions, billions, trillions of organisms, enough -illions to choke on, to disappear under the mass of life, and life that has gone.

“There are lessons here,” he tells me. “We learn from the past to make the future better, but humans don’t seem to be very good at that.” We are surrounded by knowledge about how to prevent the disappearances and deaths petrified here. Ewan Fordyce asks me to close my eyes, and places a megalodon tooth in my hands. It is as large as my palm, shiny ivory, serrated. Just one tooth, of hundreds. “This shark could have eaten anything it wanted,” he says drily. “They were giants.” There are fossils carefully being excavated by postgrad students in his lab, the air dusty with discovery, forms slowly coming out of the rock and living again.

There is widespread scientific consensus that we are in the midst of a sixth great extinction, even if human demise is yet a way off. Scientists estimate that the current rate of species dying is a thousand times higher than the background rate of extinction. At some level, all of these previous extinctions have been due to the climate changing faster than life can keep up, although there are ferocious scientific debates about the actual means of this climatic change.

In the Te Papa collection, I hold the tiny mandible of a Lyall’s wren, about the same length as the first joint of my index finger. It is fragile, delicate, designed for eating insects; it was once alive, and now it is dead. Tennyson tells me the story of how this species went extinct, the last known living examples killed by feral cats at the ends of the nineteenth century, though

Some of the lost life get more attention than others. I ask Tennyson which qualities make extinct species appealing. “Your answer is as good as mine,” he says, but elaborates anyway. “They have to be big, iconic species like the moa— 22

Shanti Mathias

lost,” Tennyson says. To have a fossil is to have perspective— the fingerprints of life that didn't last forever. Perspective can build a future of less loss; for instance, the fossil record is often used for conservationists to think about where to reintroduce species.

further research found that the species was once widespread throughout Aotearoa, and was probably killed by the kiore, or Polynesian rat. To make sense of the loss, we mount it, display it, pore over it, and draw pictures of the world that was when this life was in it. There are probably more extinct organisms that we don’t know about than those we do: micro-organisms, small plants, and worms. Yet when we think of extinct animals, it tends not to be slugs or random invertebrates, but dinosaurs or dodos.

“If we look at the history of life, we can see that it’s a grim, hard race, and organisms are basically evolving as fast as they possibly can. So we as people should have a special role to not make it worse. So I read about a rhinoceros or pangolin or kākāpō, it was tough for them before there were humans, and now [we] make it extra extra hard, and we are all culpable,” says Fordyce.

“I think to be a palaeontologist, we are privileged, and we owe it to society to talk to people. [Paleontology] really is an important place to use our fossils to understand the history of the earth,” Fordyce tells me, in his fossil-filled office, in a corner of a stone building, in a university—all pieces of a system that is changing the earth.

This most recent spate of extinctions is happening before our eyes, not being pieced together post-mortem by bubbles of chemicals and changes in the consistency of rock. Death comes from the way that humans—some humans much more than others—live. We take old life that has become oil or coal, and ignite it for our movement and material. The grim, hard race becomes harder.

Fossils and dinosaurs are valuable in fostering interest in science. “[Dinosaurs] bring the fun,” Zoë tells me, “the kids can have fun with it and adults can study them.” Dinosaurs were what led Fordyce into paleontology too. “As a little kid I was fascinated by dinosaurs... and suddenly I thought, oops, I’m a paleontologist.”

“People need hope,” Fordyce tells me. I feel compelled to mention that in the week this article is being published, there is a climate strike—a way to act on hope. Consider a fossil. Consider a dinosaur. Find a timescale larger than your lifetime, and dream the bony future.

If we start caring about long dead creatures then it’s easier to notice and care for living ones. “We’ve lost a lot, and it’s only through those sorts of specimens that we know what we

Elliot Blyth, Eve & Adam, Digital P

Photography, 297 x 420mm, 2019

Tessa Keenan

THE APPLES ARE NOT FLAVOURED BY A PERFECT TREE Standing alone in the bathroom of an isolated Canterbury hotel, I am chanting an ode to hundreds of years of crying newborns with each dollop of conditioner I prise onto my hand. It’s dark outside and the window is iced over; the locals will only see my naked silhouette. Let them remain at that distance, I don’t want them to know my secret. This 10 p.m. is the summit, just like 11 p.m. will be too: the pinnacle of past. Each time I run my hands through my hair. Each time I drink the milk from the bottom of my cereal. Each time I just want to be alone. I am my tūpuna.

wasn’t going to let it be that I was a blank. The plotting and searching fostered then is yet to end. I have to keep updating this tiny image at least twice a year now. When I’m the soil for my kids, there’ll be no space left on the page. The impossibility of making a tree of mysterious tūpuna stared me in the face when, at the end of Year 13, one of my close classmates told me that my uncle was her biological grandfather. To me, he is like a grandfather I never had. To her, it’s the same. Except he is an unspoken: a broken line, a branch snapped from the tree. How do we make a straight line of this confusion?

My secret is also kept quiet by the neighbours of the Darfield Motel and any so-called farming, surfing, dancing, town in the world. Everyone in the present is in the same boat. We carry within us the blood of our ancestors, our whakapapa. We are every regret Great-Great-Uncle Jim had, every sheep shorn, every korowai worn. I, for one, know that my hands work the blessings of those in the sky, in the sea—and because of that, they’ll reach for the history books anywhere. Maybe that's why you don’t mind a bit of noise when you fall asleep; you are koro’s snores and Nan’s 3 a.m. TV shows.

What scares me is that in this tradition, almost everyone is an impossibility. What happened to every woman that was ever left off a tree structured to only regard the grandfathers, fathers, and sons? Maybe she was an existing non-existence. I think the straight line from father to son is her backbone, dug from the earth in which she rests. Those that carry the surname, typically the males of every generation, must look at the sprawling piece of paper and watch its weight crash over them. Wherever there is a name, there is lineage and stories and people who come before with their own legacies. Someone in each generation of your family’s tree needs to do the digging to bring back the burntoff, cast away family nomads.

Like row upon row of grapes waiting to be wine, lines of ancestry are plotted. They are envisioned symbols on pages, known as ‘family trees’. Lives, fashions and passions become spectacularly linear topographic maps for a seven-year-old to drive their Hot Wheels across. Each progression of a family tree is like discovering the Nile all over again, but finding there’s gold at the bottom. You’re born and there goes another straight line. A shift in the format, but a brand new name. We crave this discovery, validation for the quirks we each have. But most importantly, we want to see that we own our families and bodies. We want our existence to belong, to fit in the place we have no choice but to fit. Besides, sometimes it’s just so satisfying to see so many straight, clear-cut lines.

The conundrum comes from the shape and form. Names on a page with a line connecting them seem incapable of describing the way my grandfather looked at my little brother. In his grandson, he would see part of the son nature refused him, with four girls instead. These lines cannot release the hunted whales of our pasts back into the ocean. They can’t account for those who made others’ lives a misery.

That being said, I want to strongly suggest a referendum on ‘family trees’. Can we change their name to ‘fucking confusing vines that are missing all their fruit’?

I remember a family tree one of my classmates drew up in primary school. It traced their blood all the way back to the vikings. This would’ve been an easy way to collect up and tie together everyone’s whānau lines when New Zealand had a population of 1 million. But in our vastly interlocking, intersecting, and—in some places—slightly incestuous world, it seems better to just accept that family is family, ohana is ohana, and whānau is certainly whānau—no matter how topsy turvy.

Coming from a family with head-splittingly complicated generations, second marriages, and alienated children who form lines of their own, I struggled as a kid to see my family as anything but a pile of tangled leaves growing wild. Years ago, my Aunty produced a five-generation family tree for a whānau wānanga that seemed to want to burst from its linearity. I took my pencil around the marae, and with the help of my little cousins, we played fill-in-the-blanks, but with real lives. I

I don’t want to have to wrap lines around broken marriages and write in a new baby to the tree every month. I want my family to be my family, despite the lines and wrinkles.

Janhavi Gosavi

SKELETONS IN YOUR CLOSET

CW: Sexual Assault, Spiked Substances Dusk possesses an indiscernible allure. Wallflowers transform into live wires—like werewolves, except with more charm and less fur. It’s then that I see my firecracker of a friend let loose; hair down, volume up. She calls it liberation. Light means scrutiny. At night, no one can see how large your pores are or how dirty your hair is. No dance move is too cringe, no laugh is too loud. We’re free to be our most authentic selves. But what happens in the dark, stays in the dark. You can bury your skeletons in the satin black, tuck them away for safekeeping. There are some parts of us that aren’t meant for the light of day, a fact which fucks with me.

That’s my burden: the curse of the sober mum friend. I carry the light into the dark, like a torch that ruins other people’s night vision. And what I witness stays with me—the good, the bad, and the haunting. When you’re a critical observer with a formidable memory, it’s frustrating to be surrounded by peers who would rather talk about their inflating student loans than recall what they did when they were hammered. On a superficial level, there’s the agony of hooking up with an acquaintance in town who is both too attractive and too out-ofit for their own good. Waking up the next day, remembering the

Janhavi Gosavi

crowd of mutual friends that gathered around you, spectators cheering for their favorite sport. Not knowing if your teammate themselves holds any recollection. Post-hookup culture is a hypocritical phenomenon: Leading up to the main event, all manner of people will congregate to fill you up with liquid courage, and you’ll be egged on with a socially acceptable level of peer pressure. But once the deed is done, no one wants to talk about it. We tell people to live truthfully—but no, not like that. Knowing smiles are passed around the next morning like backhanded compliments. They know what you did, but are you brave enough to call them out on it? The pressure is on to be low-key, leaving you with a million afterthoughts and no audience.

Another friend shakes his taro milk tea in contemplation, speaking from experience at parties. “It’s hard to place your anger on a part of someone who only comes out in certain situations.” He confesses he had to rethink every memory he had of his friend, asking himself if he missed the warning signs. “It’s easier to compartmentalise.” Wishing to end that line of discussion, he moves on. “Being drugged is probably the scariest. It’s as easy as dropping in a pill while you walk past your victim. Alarming success rates with no accountability.”

Yet the reluctance to discuss the happenings of a night gone by pose more than just superficial threats. What we do in the shadows isn’t meant to carry over to the next morning, especially when those conversations don’t go down easily over a Sunday brunch. It’s like a switch is flicked on our morals and ethical responsibilities all but go out the window. This oath of silence we've all nonconsensually taken is what gives perpetrators a free pass.

It hurts me that our young men are getting roofied and no one is talking about it. Spilled over a cup of coffee, overheard in the hallways, confessed on a bubble tea run, I’ve heard the stories so often they’re getting predictable: An unprotected drink, an assumption that he’s just wasted, a toilet bowl full of vomit, followed by all the other symptoms of being drugged. There’s shame involved—stereotypically, women are the ones to have their alcohol spiked. It’s this idea that a bolstering 20-something bloke could be reduced to nothing by someone half their size in a matter of seconds. Bro culture would rather have us rejoice to a wild night on the town than acknowledge that men aren’t exempt from violation.

On an afternoon bubble tea run with mates, the chit-chat starts fizzling out, so I dubiously offer up the question, “What’s the scariest thing that happens at night but isn’t talked about during the day?” It’s stark, out of the blue, and potentially triggering. I hear a sharp inhale.

We’re stuck in that canteen scene from High School Musical, the one where outcasts are chastised for daring to admit that when it comes to people, the truth is not all that meets the eye. The message is clear: stick to the status quo. Keep your mouth shut, or lose your seat at the cool kids’ table.

We get to the counter and one friend ponders my question and her order at the same time. “Sexual assault,” she declares.

But our lives aren’t harmfully stereotypical, grossly Americanised movies. I’m not too cool for the truth, and neither are you. If you see me the morning after, have the decency to make eye contact. If we continue treating simple issues with shame, we’ll never be able to make room for difficult but necessary conversation.

Trading war stories, it’s clear the most dangerous perpetrators are the ones who appear harmless for the most part. We talk about how we only felt safe with him in the presence of a crowd. How he knew I hadn’t realised that someone could look at us without really seeing us. How if a single person had interjected and told her to run for the hills, she would have. One person who risked overstepping their boundaries by speaking up, instead of risking our safety. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have got away with it. After the sun sets, no one knows what the bad guy looks like and the only thing worse than not knowing is knowing. What if it's your best mate? How do you cut someone important out of your life for something they don't even remember doing? The rhetorical questions are endless because no one wants to imagine themselves in a scenario where they would be forced to answer them.

It’s that much easier to get away with something when you know that silence is the norm. I used to dream of being able to lie in a park and watch the stars, comfortable in my loneliness. Now I’m terrified of the night, and being in the company of others invites danger and not comfort. If shit goes down, we need to talk about it. If we can only find liberation when we are stumbling around in the dark, that raises a flag too red to ignore. Authenticity shouldn’t become synonymous with alcohol. Try challenging the toxic social norms which dictate when you are and are not free to be your feral, unfiltered self. In the meantime, go get lost in the Botans to find yourself. Switch off all the lights and have a rave in your living room. Keep your friends close and your enemies as far as possible. The night is a gift. Use it well.

Go The Fuck To Sleep

WHAT’S THE LAST AND SECOND-TO-LAST THING YOU DO BEFORE BED? A: Say goodnight to your friends on Club Penguin and update your PC. B: Watch some porn and hit up your Tinder matches to fall asleep to their replies. C: Say a prayer to Greta Thunberg and take off your overalls. D: Make a mug of peppermint tea and read Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.

WHAT’S THE FIRST AND SECOND THING YOU DO IN THE MORNING? A: Collect your rewards on Fortnite and reply to your Instagram DMs. B: Wake and bake. C: Masturbate and wash your hands in freshly caught rain water. D: Transfer your ex $0.10 and brush your teeth with an uncharged electric toothbrush.

WHAT’S YOUR WAKE-UP DRINK? A: Belle Delphine’s bathwater. B: Protein shake or cum. C: Green smoothie with a shot of wheatgrass. D: Black coffee, shot of vodka (and a cigarette).

MOSTLY A'S

MOSTLY B'S

Quiz

HOW WOULD YOU FACILITATE YOUR IDEAL BREAK-UP? A: Send them a break-up meme over Discord and block them. B: Ghost them. C: Sacrificing your year-long Tinder date to the sourdough starter gods. D: Tell them you’re too damaged and need time to “work stuff out”.

EASIEST WAY TO GET TO SLEEP? A: ASMR. B: To the tearful voicemails of all your exes. C: An hour-long meditation, to the soft exclamation of wind chimes. D: To the sound of The Smiths and the rain.

LAST SONG YOU LISTEN TO BEFORE YOU HEAD TO SLEEP? A: “SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji B: “ASTROTHUNDER” by Travis Scott C: The sound of your flatmates fucking softly. D: “Nights” by Frank Ocean

MOSTLY D'S

MOSTLY C'S

Why will you vote? He aha te take me pĹ?ti koe?

Local Elections 2019

wellington.govt.nz/elections

DIXIE NORMOUS

You might have heard that the rainforest has been set alight. The media forgot, and then remembered violently: We’ve been bombarded with pictures of charred fields, sad stumps swathed in smoke. You might be feeling worried or sad. If this is the case, I have good news: with a little adjustment in your mindset—a bit of perspective—you can feel right as rain again. It is clear the situation calls for some optimism. Cheer the fuck up, people.

If you’re still worried, just remember that the mere act of being aware helps. This actually works better if you make sure all the people around you know you’re aware. Whether this means sharing DiCaprio’s Instagram post to your story, or an angry rant on Facebook where you publicly shame meat-eaters like your fat brute of a cousin for stealing your piece of meatloaf when you were ten— it all makes a difference! People will be reminded that you’re a good person... and of the rainforest.

For one, logic prevails that the issue will fix itself: Cows have low IQs, and don’t fit oxygen masks, so they likely won’t adapt to the oxygen shortage before us. No cows, no beef, no methane… no global warming. This deforestation might possibly be the best solution we’ve had to the conundrum yet.

The public consensus on trees may not even be universally positive. When asked for her opinion of trees, one student said she could “take ‘em or leave ‘em”. Another confessed that he had his kauri chopped down a couple of years ago so he could have a better view of his neighbours’ bedroom window. Clearly, New Zealanders view shrubbery as somewhat expendable— what are people crying over?

If this doesn’t calm you, Leonardo DiCaprio seems to have the situation under control. He has amazingly already donated a quarter of the $20 million the G7 leaders have offered—a generous donation from the organisation that holds 58% of the world’s wealth— making him pretty much the Wolf of the Rainforest. When asked about DiCaprio’s role in the significant achievement, one male student said that Leo “did a good job of portraying the jadedness of has-been Hollywood actors, if you know what I mean”. We did not, but he walked away before he could clarify.

Ultimately, as Nike commercials and our unsympathetic aunts have taught us, nothing beats the power of positive thinking. Being worried never solved anything, and it’s definitely not going to make the trees grow back. So sit back, enjoy your Maki Mono, and relax: Good vibes might just be the answer.

UN IQ

MAURI OR A

BROCK STOBBS

JUDE WEST

How do you prepare for exams to manage stress and show your best work?

Joan W Scott, a notably feminist historian, wrote that “fixed oppositions conceal the extent to which things presented as oppositional are, in fact, interdependent— that is, they derive their meaning from a particularly established contrast rather than from some inherent or pure antithesis.”

Positive stress (yes, there is such a thing) occurs when you are completing a task that requires most of your skills and resources to complete. It makes you feel motivated and gives you an adrenaline rush to keep going through the challenge.

I think about this often when I think about my journey through university. Like many a gay, I thought university was going to be a fresh start for me. A chance to break out of the monotonous, heteronormative cycle I had trapped myself in. It was not—at least not initially. Turns out, it’s quite hard to change something that’s as ingrained into your psyche as how you represent your sexuality.

Negative stress is when you have more demands than you can handle. It feels like anxiety, burnout, or overwhelm. Too much negative stress has a detrimental effect on your performance. Optimise your time with good preparation. Sounds obvious, but cramming the night before isn’t a good strategy. Focus on the key topics you need to know well, and review past exam papers. Break down big topics into small chunks—it’s called microtasking, and it works!

The difficulty was expecting the shift to be a sudden and drastic thing. I had no idea what I wanted my life to look like or how it should look like, but I knew it had to be nothing like it was. Because that's how life is presented to you, as a binary. Either completely one thing or another.

Fuel your body with what it needs to succeed. Allnighters are your enemy. If you don’t sleep, your mind won’t perform. Aim to get at least six hours’ sleep, eat to feed your brain, stay hydrated, and take regular exercise breaks doing something you enjoy. The time you spend will be well worth it—you will come to your study refreshed and improve your ability to focus and retain information.

Now, in what is almost definitely a completely inaccurate understanding and application of Scott’s work, my conclusion was that binaries kinda fucking suck and aren’t even that real. Ground-breaking, I know. But to a queer lost and in denial, trust me, it really was a breakthrough.

Choose how to respond to pressure.If you build up exams to be more important than they actually are, this anxiety will impact on your performance. Reframe the exam as an opportunity to show and articulate your knowledge and skills.

I mean, of course I knew that binaries were bullshit, I had a Tumblr account (emphasis on the had—don’t judge me). But I never applied it so thoroughly to my life. I don’t really see my life as existing in these clearcut segments, because none of them exist on their own. They are constantly being defined and redefined by future and past experiences, so much so that they bleed into one.

Manage anxiety. If you find you are getting anxious while studying, or in the exam itself, use the square breathing technique—breathe in six seconds, hold six seconds, breathe out six seconds, hold six seconds— eight times in a row. This exercise will calm your nervous system and help you to regain your focus to continue. Ground yourself by noticing what you can see, smell, hear, feel, and touch around you. This will help your body to relax.

Sure, it may be easier to understand where you’re at through these segments—but for me at least, I ultimately found them constricting and unhealthy. Was I in the closet or out? Accepting of myself or succumbing to internalised homophobia? The answer: none of the above. We just out here living life, queer as fuck.

If you need more support or advice to manage your health or mental distress for exams, book an appointment at Mauri Ora on 04 463 5308.

V UWSA

SWAT

FINN CARROLL

ALEX WALKER

If we describe an eve as the end of one thing and the beginning of another, you would find we experience ‘eves’ constantly throughout our lives, whether personally or as a society.

When living with ill mental health, there’s a real line in the sand between the time you kept your hurt to yourself and the time you told someone. But it’s not just one line. Over and over, those lines are drawn, in tandem with those moments where you dare to be brave, those moments where you finally decide to let the words escape your mouth.

Throughout my time at VUWSA, I’ve realised we have a surprisingly huge influence over what type of eve we can experience.

Telling loved ones about our ill mental health is a series of beginnings and endings. It can be the ending of shame and the beginning of clarity. The feeling of someone looking at you and they know. They know, they understand, and they’re still here.

We’ve had some amazing campaigns this year that have contributed to some of the most inspiring societal change: #itooamvic has shown me that building intercultural empathy and understanding is something we care about, and something students and staff are willing to contribute in a meaningful way.

I’ve had many of these beginnings and endings in my life. I remember posting about my mental health last year on a public page and thinking, “This is it. I’m not hiding this anymore.” Yet 2019 rolled around and I was again choosing not to speak about it. I wasn’t necessarily lying to anyone, but I was choosing not to acknowledge that aspect of my life even when I could have. It all felt so ridiculous. How could I have been okay posting about my mental health to hundreds of people, and yet now I was actively choosing not to talk about it in my everyday life?

Sex Week made it clear that we’re ready to talk about sexual health, sexual harm reduction, and having enjoyable, consensual sex—the death of an unhealthy taboo and the eve of healtier conversations around sex and consent. In the same way, the work done at VUWSA to secure funding for mental health resources is an eve to more accessible mental health services and the end of another harmful taboo.

My realisation is that there is not one beginning and one ending. There is not one shining moment where I talk about my mental health and propel myself into a new era of living without stigma or shame.

Eve. The end of the old way and the dawn of the new— but it’s important we realise that nothing is set in stone. We have control over the change we want to see in the world; we have the power to create eves in society, and in our own lives. It’s important to use that power.

The truth is more complicated, but also more beautiful. There will be many beginnings and endings. I will share my mental health with different people in different ways, and sometimes that’s going to be hard. I know there’s nothing to be ashamed about, but what I know and what I feel can be very different things. I’ll seek those new beginnings and each attempt will bolster my confidence in this part of myself.

Have your say, use your vote, and stand up for what matters.

We’ll all face these moments in our life, these moments where we let someone see something we keep locked up inside of ourselves. It’s always a beginning and an end... and it’s always unfathomably heroic.

NĀ RACHEL TROW TE PŌ-TAHURI-MAI-KI-TAIAO

If you are fortunate enough to have internet access, you have probably had the displeasure of seeing the news in the last year. This bleak terrain of political corruption, endless war, and climate catastrophe is enough to make anyone want to cover their eyes, change the channel, and tune out altogether. The darkness of navigating our current social, political, and news landscapes can feel like floating and drowning at the same time. In the interest of being an informed citizen, you may have braved the darkness of this landscape, but the lack of gravity swayed your course. You may have tried to light a path through this maze but the labour was simply too draining. As Ngāi Māori the prospect of trawling through the whitewash of mainstream media often feels like a favour to society, rather than a service to ourselves and our whānau. It can also bring up generations of mamae that isn’t necessarily ours, or we know what to do with. At this point, subjecting ourselves to this darkness becomes a draining force that makes us question why we’re doing it in the first place. As much as we want to be informed citizens, we have to stoke our own fires too. We can’t entirely be blamed for checking out. Ki te Whai-ao. This is not to say there isn’t hope. We need only look to Te Ao Māori. You will see mana wāhine putting their bodies on the line for days on end to protect Ihumātao. You will see whānau reconnecting to Papatūānuku at a time when she needs us most. And perhaps the most exciting of all: You will see more and more Māori beginning the process of decolonising their lives. This rekindling we are seeing in Te Ao Māori should come

as no surprise, however, the awe-inducing nature of its brightness can be flooring. The sparks of systematic change are entrancing. They are Māori pushing the boundaries of what we have been told it means to be Māori. The only boundaries of being Māori are whakapapa, but the experiences within these layers are infinite. They are takatāpui making their own spaces of decolonised authenticity. They are mana tāne challenging systems of colonial patriarchy. They are tauira giving back to the whānau whose sacrifices have afforded them the privilege of tertiary education. The sacrifices of our tīpuna have lead to this moment where we have the opportunity to recentre our gravity in Te Ao Māori in a way that they may not have been afforded, and step into Te Ao Mārama. The best thing about these sparks we are witnessing is that they are in fact just the smallest fraction of the light in Te Ao Mārama. Just as our tīpuna and whānau have cleared a path for these embers to flourish, these embers will give rise to something greater in the future. For all of these resilient embers in this eve of reclamation—of te reo revitalisation, return to tikanga and protection of Papatūānuku—there are vibrant, healthy flames of systemic emancipation burning in Te Ao Mārama. These flames of kaupapa Māori are the guides we need when the darkness seems to be too much; a return to mātauranga, kaitiakitanga, and whanaungatanga. Knowing they are there, in Te Ao Mārama, may not seem like enough when the tides of Te Pō threaten to engulf these embers. But hold faith: These flames that guide us are born out of this darkness. They are warm, and they are sustaining, and they will provide for us all.

Mafia Motel I’ve been to the mafia motel Where talent is laughed at Shuttered blinds, tacky doorbells Strangers, plenty, enough I met a girl there She had the kind of shape the world should be in With a smile that was faked On the third page of a magazine called herself Malibu I didn’t care much for her sand I did like the company though and the food Winter tripped up and over the balcony broke its neck, let out a howl to the morning sun which burnt down the bark Left a mark in my nose, something foul So amidst the sunny mist to the ocean I ran with the notion to swim in its potion of uninvited guests On the platform over swimming sharks “Hark! The herald angels” was barked, By none other than Harold. Fuck Harold. - Yoon

Send your limericks, elegies, and odes to poetry@salient.org.nz

SP ORTS R EVIEW: CAMP B EL L G IDDE NS

2019 R U GBY W ORLD C U P

With the 2019 Rugby World Cup fast approaching, the eyes of the nation will turn to Japan as they play host to the ninth installment of the competition. This will mark the first time the tournament has been hosted in Asia, and will be the first time in Rugby World Cup history where the current holders seek consecutive World Cup defences. With New Zealand going into this World Cup as holders for a third time, it will likely mark the toughest challenge they’ve faced on the world rugby stage. The Hosts: Japan From the outset, this World Cup was always going to be a challenge for Japan, who will be looking to advance out of the pool stage for the first time in their history. They come into the tournament with a fairly strong record with wins over their Pool A rivals Russia, also beating Tonga, Fiji, and the USA. With Ireland looking much the Pool A favourites, eyes will be on their game against Scotland to see whether they can progress to the quarter final. The Favourites: New Zealand The burden for the All Blacks is that they will always go into the international tournaments with the expectation of winning. Despite recent shaky performances against the Springboks in Wellington, and a heavy defeat to the Wallabies in Perth, forcing a Bledisloe Cup decider, hopes still remain high. The struggle will be finding their best team: With an injured Damien Mackenzie leaving a number 10-shaped hole in the backline, a lot of responsibility rests on the shoulders of 25-year-old Richie Mo'unga. Despite being the favourites, the All Blacks remain very beatable. Ireland Ireland dominated in 2018, winning the Six Nations undefeated, and scoring a win over the All Blacks. Despite 2019 not being kind to them finishing third in this year’s Six Nations

and suffering two defeats to England. They remain the number one ranked nation going into the World Cup. As favourites for Pool A, a quarter final against New Zealand or South Africa will be at the forefront of their minds. Wales There’s no real reason why this Wales side should not be confident heading into this year’s World Cup. With an undefeated 2019 Six Nations campaign, Wales go into the tournament with very high hopes, and should have no real difficulty in progressing to the quarter finals. Their biggest test likely being an Australian side, who have shown both promise and serious vulnerability of late. Fiji may also put the Gatland’s men to the test, but you’d have to go back to 2007 when Fiji last beat Wales in World Cup competition. England England undoubtedly have the toughest hill to climb in terms of the favourites in Pool play. Coming up against an everimproving Argentinian side, and France, who have never failed to make World Cup the quarter finals. In terms of form, England have shown that when they play, they are right up there with the best. Despite two losses in 2019 to Wales, Owen Farrell has led England to some outstanding performances against Ireland and Italy, which should give them a chance to rewrite the wrongs of 2015. South Africa In 2019, South Africa have looked like a World Cup winning side. Everything seems to be going right for the Springboks, with an undefeated 2019 Rugby Championship and a victory against the hosts Japan leading into the tournament. Erasmus’ men look poised to repeat their 2007 triumph—but in a World Cup, nothing is for certain.

MUS IC JESSB : NE W VI E WS

R EVIEW: NIVA CHIT TO C K

JessB is back with her sophomore EP, New Views. Last Friday 13 saw her smash her first ever gig in Wellington, and boy, was I jealous to miss it! Though I am already hooked on her music, I decided to give New Views (officially released August 9) a more critical listen. “Mood” breaks in the record with loud, distorted singing. Her signature rap comes in pretty quick, and sure enough, she’s talking about her girls: “Big boss bitches making boss moves”. So far, “Mood” has been the most successful track of the album and it’s one of only two which doesn’t have a featured artist. Go figure. Rihanna is a big influence and that can be heard in “Work With”—even the song title is similar to one of Riri’s. The song itself is poppy and unexpected if you know JessB’s past music. It also begins the pattern continued for the rest of the release, alternating between harsh then softer tracks. “Time Out” hits harsh again and you sense that she’s more comfortable with this style. It’s stripped-back: mostly just a beat, base and her voice. The result? A very personal feeling. This track also smashes a clear myth of the rap world for me: It doesn’t just speak of violence, sex, drugs, or herself—actually introducing some heavier themes. She, along with Abdul Kay, relays a positive message. They talk about women being aware they have a choice and don’t always need to be sexual to be seen: “your choice, it’s yours…what are you shaking that ass for?” The most beautiful track is “So Low”, featuring Paige. Mainly guitar and melody, this gets into the crux of where her head’s been at and the reasons for this song collection. As per most, it’s love, loss, and heartbreak. Hold the eye-roll though—this has been turned into self-love, feminist rap instead of soppy

romance. Taking down her normally tough rapping personality, JessB comes across as more sincere and open, yet still manages to sound strong as hell. “New Era” is the closest to a title track and it’s “So Low”’s redemption track. It shows progress from “rock bottom” with lyrics like: “I was the rain and now I’m the thunder,” “Gone from zero to a hundred,” and “We are quite enough / This the new era / See the fight in us,”. It’s one kickass track. “Bump Bump” is squished in second-to-last and feels a tad out of place. While it references earlier themes and links into other tracks, it somehow doesn’t feel quite right. Featuring Church of fellow Auckland rap duo Church & AP, this one was released a few months before the EP and I personally think would’ve been better left as a stand-alone single. Ringing out the seven-track special is “POE” (people over everything) featuring Yaw Faso. The pop sound is back, but with some faint reggae vibes more akin to the likes of last year’s hit “Take It Down”. Jess couldn’t have picked something better to end on, with my favourite line being: “Fuck misogyny and policies that keep us down.” It’s well worth a listen; easily the best track for me. All in all, this an interesting release, with some reasonable risks. JessB opens up with some deep emotion, and that takes guts. I can’t applaud her or her badass, feminist/self-appreciation vibes enough. However, the transitions between tracks, length of the EP, and the lingering feeling like there’s a lot more that could’ve been said unfortunately weaken the collection for me. JessB, you’ll always be an icon of mine. For now, I just hope your sick energy is being poured into some new sound to appease this hunger you’ve left us with.

F OOD R EVIEW: S A LLY WA RD

NE W KOR

You deserve to know where to find sticky fried chicken that tastes like it was cooked by a god in a pink apron, and New Kor deserves your money. The sorts of things people complain about in Google reviews are hilarious—“if you order side dishes you have to pay extra, unbelievable.” No such thing as a free lunch, David. New Kor’s reviews circa 2016 are properly bad—people were describing the food as “inedible,” and lamenting that it wasn’t what they remembered. New Kor was sold about a year ago and is now owned and operated by Harold. Imagine taking over a restaurant and inheriting shitty reviews from 2010, forever etched into the internet’s psyche. It’s as if they picked up a pair of old jeans and—instead of putting them in the bin where people thought they belonged—washed, re-dyed, and patched them up. Not easy. The more recent reviews show a complete switch in feeling. New Kor is unassuming. There are laminated pictures of the dishes stuck to the window, purply-blue roped fairy lights zig-zagging around the red door frame. I didn’t notice it until I noticed it. From the outside, it looks like a canvas for the sort of carry on typical of a student BYO. Finish your bottle (can’t take it with you) and protect your glass from a God-Save-The-Queen attack. But I’d go here for the food alone, not something that can be said of Big Thumb. There are karaoke rooms upstairs,—what more would we want? We’re comfortable at Indian, Thai, and Chinese restaurants. We’re familiar with certain dishes like pad thai, and chicken tikka. Korean food appears less common—or at least, less explored— even though kimchi is enjoying a surge in popularity as we go gaga for gut health. How many of us have tried bibimbap? I initially felt slightly

confused about how to behave. I suppose the confusion across my white face told Harold that I needed help. He explained that I should add the amount of hot sauce I wanted and mix it all up with a spoon. Bibimbap is a rice-based dish, which actually translates to ‘mixed rice’. Mixing rice is an art. In the city it originates, it will be professionally mixed for you to ensure that the rice doesn’t get damaged—according Janne, our Korean correspondent. Today I went for lunch with a friend. The lunch menu offers their meals at lower prices, so most things are between $10–$20. At dinnertime it’s between $20–$30 for a generous portion. If you go on a Wednesday night, you get 20% off food and alcohol with student ID. And they sell soju! (Korean vodka) we shared a bibimbap and fried chicken. That chicken haunts my dreams with desire. It’s coated in a sticky, spicy sauce (but not so spicy you can’t taste the other flavours) and topped with toasted sesame seeds. It’s still crunchy under all that sauce, and served with some finely sliced cabbage and spring onion, to freshen it up. The bibimbap had lightly sautéed carrot, spinach, and onions, a fried egg, and fried tofu. It sits in a cast iron hot pot and comes out cracking like miniature fireworks. The heat creates a thin crunchy layer of rice on the bottom, a treat as you reach the end. Compared to rich curries or oil-heavy noodles, the dish feels like a better dose of vegetables, but is still warming. I only notice service when it is either very bad or very good. In this case, it’s the latter. Every time, I have felt welcomed and considered. It’s not often I want people to take my money, but the hospitality and the food felt like an experience rather than an exchange. If you’re going to get drunk over dinner, don’t rip yourself off with a poor-tasting meal.

FAS HIO N R EVIEW: NINA W EIR

WELL I NGTON B OYS

I’ve never realised just how distinctively Wellington boys dress until last mid-tri break, when I found myself standing at the airport, waiting for the Airport Flyer next to a guy wearing a VB cap, a rolled cigarette behind his ear, and moustache straight off the pages of a 70’s Playboy. From windbreakers to nose piercings, our Wellington lads have such a distinctive and curated style they’re almost their own culture. It’s a wonder that ethnographers with cameras aren’t roaming our streets, putting together coffee table books with titles like 'My Sightings of the San Fran Softboi'. But how does this transformation happen? Surely every Auckland Grammar boy doesn’t wake up after his first night at KJ with a hangover, a stolen road cone, and an innate attraction to knitted beanies and cuffed jeans? It wasn’t till a couple lazy Sundays ago when I was curled up watching Netflix that I realised I had stumbled upon the secret behind male fashion in Wellington. The similarity between the costumes in the 2004 cinematic masterpiece Napoleon Dynamite and what’s regularly worn by Commerce boys at Rutherford House was too significant to overlook. In one hour and thirty-six minutes, I had seen all that I needed to prove that the film had predicted the biggest trends in male fashion, fifteen years later in Wellington. Firstly: glasses. There are two camps of eyewear in this city— you’re either team wire-rim like Napoleon or team clear-acetate like his brother Kip. I misattributed this trend to the rise of serial killers in pop culture (say what you will about Jeffrey Dahmer, but the man could rock a pair of wire aviators), but I overlooked the original nerd chic icons. Kip may have given up his glasses for his chatroom girlfriend Lafawnduh, but your local Penguin tote bagcarrying, Dostoyevsky-reading softboi would never.

Second: the polo. Emporium has made a KILLING off the backs of posh boys straight out of private school. The popularity of the polo relies on first-years who are used to the structure of a high school uniform, but who want the flex of a brand and the perceived altiness that only a pastel Ralph Lauren can provide. In Napoleon Dynamite, Kip’s character arc saw him accessorise his button-up with an oversized gold chain—a statement also seen on the dart-smoking boys outside Siglo who are just a little bit too into Kendrick for someone who grew up in Remuera. Thirdly: the dramatic haircut. In a plot point never really explained, Napoleon’s best friend Pedro decides he’s too hot so shaves off all his hair. If you’ve ever been in a first-year hall, you’ll understand that a lot more drastic styling choices have been made for a lot less sensible reasons. Sunday morning at a dining hall isn’t complete without spotting yet another boy who’s fallen for the charm of a buzz cut, frosted tips, or something equally startling. It’s the male fuck-you-Mum-and-Dad equivalent of the astrological stick-and-poke. Finally: the Kip moustache. Both a PE teacher and Wellington boi staple, the well-groomed (lacking in hair, but making up for it in care) moustache can be seen all over the CBD; usually above a vape or a craft beer. According to recent studies, beard-wearers are perceived as more or less attractive dependant on what proportion of men are sporting facial hair. The larger the trend of beards, the less attractive they get. (Let’s all appreciate that the phrase “peak-beard” is now in my search history, so don’t go thinking I don’t sacrifice anything for these reviews.) I’m unsure if the above correlation is the same when it comes to these patchy 70’s style mo’s, but if such a finding will curb their spread in the city, I’m willing to fund whoever’s Masters project wants to prove it.

ART TH EO SC H OON - T H E A RT O F WH AT ’ S M I SS I N G IN WHITE S PACES

Glyn Maxwell’s book On Poetry dedicates the entire first chapter on White—the equal; the empty space in the visual layout of poetry. City Gallery works in a similar fashion—centered on the White. Lots of empty space. Yes, I’m talking about the constant re-emergence of the cultural appropriation discussion. New Zealand art is a lot more than white men appropriating Māori art. In fact, if you erase to create White space in that sentence, you’re left with this: New Zealand art is * *** **** ***** *** ************* Māori art. So how come our national gallery seems only to focus upon what lies beneath those White spaces? Why is the New Zealand art scene—especially that of City Gallery—such a White space? Perhaps it’s actually a revolutionary approach—constantly releasing shows so that the audience thinks about what’s missing from the conversation on art (hidden in the white space) rather than what is always shown (the black writing on paper). But honestly, City Gallery probably isn’t that deep. But surely a gallery can’t rely on the shock value of cultural appropriation forever? Imagine showing Māori art in a gallery space without contextualising it through Pākehā art. Imagine lessening the focus on talking about what is missing from our past, and start fixing the future instead. What I’m trying to say is: Start showing Māori artists. That’s it. That’s the whole message. Exhibiting an artist causes reverence. Exhibiting an artist causes income. As romantic as it is to imagine art existing in some kind of bohemian yet fully functional bubble, it doesn’t, and art is an economy just as much as anything else. While these constant exhibitions of stale, pale males definitely cause us to get angry about cultural appropriation—money is still going into the same pockets.

R EVIEW: MAYA NE U PA NE

I think by now we get it: White artists use Māori imagery. Some people think it is okay. Some do not. How many more times do Māori artists have to be reduced to “angry” “controversial” voices in this discussion rather than… artists? It’s like having someone constantly pinging your bra strap and having to sit them down and have the same conversation again and again about why it isn’t okay. They stand up to leave—you thought they were listening—then PING, they do it again. Or like living in a time loop of that one lesson in high school health where the teacher first mentions homosexuality. The class’s eyes drift as one towards the singular out gay, who now is seen to represent the entire spectrum of queerness and must speak up for their people—answering the same old questions and reacting appropriately to accusations of victimhood. Like Glyn Maxwell, I’m going to focus on what he refers to as the White. But the white as in what’s missing, rather than what is in abundance. What’s hidden in the White spaces is this: Black Marks on White Pages, an incredible collection of pieces of writing by contemporary Māori and Pasifika authors, collected and edited by Witi Ihimaera and Tina Makereti. What’s missing is poetry like Poūkahangatus, the brilliant debut poetry and prose collection by Tayi Tibble. What’s hiding is Māori music, Māori art, Māori history, Māori voices. How can we be on Māori land, have an exhibition called The Iconography of Revolt and barely examine the iconography of the revolt that happened on the very land we live on? If you visit Theo Schoon’s exhibition, be sure to take time beforehand to think about Māori art without the accompanying Pākehā brackets. Keep the balance well on the White Spaces.

WEL CO M E BAC K PUCK

RUN THE GAMUT

THIS OR THAT

1. DUSK OR DAWN? 2. CHANNEL ORANGE OR BLONDE? 3. SPRING OR AUTUMN? 4. SWEET OR SALTY? 5. FOR THE FEED OR FOR THE STORY?

GOOD NEWS POP QUIZ 1. Which previously endangered New Zealand bird has seen a population growth of up to 213 birds? 2. Which American television host recently spoke out against fat shaming?

1. Products to go on top of flapjacks (6) 4. Dance film whose sequel was subtitled 'The Streets' (4,2) 9. Extinct emu relative (3) 10. 'Young' title character of a W G Sebald novel (10) * 11. Go on stage, maybe (3) 13. Glance over; make into a digital document (4) 15. Concluding letter in Athens (5) 20. Broadway lyric that follows 'Why don't we paint the town?' (3,3,4,4) * 21. Famed American photographer who took the last professional image of John Lennon (5,9) * 22. Religion based around the central tenet called 'tawhid' (5) 25. Hack; cleave (4) 27. Lay money on an outcome (3) 29. With 31- and 32-Across, congresswoman who recently tweeted 'Republicans are running TV ads setting pictures of me on fire to convince people they aren’t racist. Life is weird!' (10,6-6) * 30. The thing to mind on the London Underground, famously (3) 31. See 29-Across 32. See 29-Across

DOWN 1. Country that gained independence from New Zealand in 1962 (5) 2. Cook; insult comedically (5) 3. Twin ___: Fire Walk with Me (5) 5. Section of the body limbs are attached to (5) 6. Number on a store tag (5) 7. Margherita, Mordor or meat-lover's, say (5) 8. Enthusiastic fan, named after an Eminem song (4) 12. Eyeteeth; doggos (7) 14. Without expression or empathy (6) 16. Desert that contains Death Valley (6) 17. Old-time newspaper or journal (7) 18. Philippines capital (6) 19. It grows faster than pandas can eat it (6) 22. State where more than a third of the land is owned by the US Forest Service (and the rest presumably grows potatoes) (5) 23. Futurama cyclops (5) 24. City that acted as the setting for a CSI spinoff (5) 25. Word that can be preceded by area, bro or dress (4) 26. Philosopher who gave his name to some love and solids (5) 27. Narrow-minded hater (5) 28. November birthstone; Hitchcock film (5)

3. A family was stranded while they were hiking. They managed to be saved by releasing a message in a water bottle. Who found this message?

1. The Kākāpō 2. James Corden 3.Two unknown hikers who never disclosed their names.

ACROSS

WORD OF THE WEEK: "DUSK" TE REO MĀORI

māpouriki NEW ZEALAND SIGN LANGUAGE

SUDOKU MEANS ONLY SINGLE DIGITS

EASY PEASY

F*CK YA LIFE UP Puzzle 1 (Very hard, difficulty rating 0.79)

Puzzle 1 (Easy, difficulty rating 0.36)

4 9 1

7 5

1 3

6 4

Generated by http://www.opensky.ca/sudoku on Thu Sep 19 03:01:55 2019 GMT. Enjoy!

8 9

3 1

9 9

9 2

4 7

5 5

6 9

Generated by http://www.opensky.ca/sudoku on Thu Sep 19 03:01:59 2019 GMT. Enjoy!

Bachelor of Communication (BC)

Study what you love

BC Majors at Wellington & via Distance Study: • • • • • • •

Communication Management Expressive Arts (theatre, creative writing, making films) Journalism Linguistics Marketing Media Studies Public Relations.

These offer you choices in practice-based and creative studies in media and communication. Find out more: http://www.massey.ac.nz/communication Enquire now: contact@massey.ac.nz

Join a communication degree with an excellent full-time employment record For a comprehensive report on Massey BC graduates’ employment, salaries, etc., email F.Sligo@massey.ac.nz Massey University’s communication degree is recognised internationally

Massey has Asia-Pacific’s only communication degree accredited by the US-based ACEJMC

Study Marketing in a degree that builds your critical and creative strengths

S L IGHTLY L ESS OBNOXIO US T HAN YO UR CO –S TAR APP

ARIES

LIBRA It’s a valid defence in court that your flatmate was being especially annoying if you do end up murdering them, you know.

Please please please PLEASE get your shit together I’m literally begging you, P L E A S E.

TAURUS

SCORPIO

This Christmas, you’ve got one mission. Yes, I’m assigning it to you now so that you have lots of time to prepare for it (both physically and emotionally): drop a tab and go watch Cats in the theatres. Let me know how it goes.

Life’s short, we all die in the end. Just lick the fucking salt lamp.

GEMINI

SAGITTARIUS

Adam and Eve walked around naked, why don’t you? Seriously, what are clothes but a societal construct that severely lacks in pockets?

You absolutely need more Florence and the Machine and Hozier in your life. Don’t you want to stand with your lover in a thunderstorm screaming at the wind too? Or just lay down gently in an Irish bog somewhere? Just embrace the fae, they’re already there.

CANCER

CAPRICORN

It’s a new beginning! You know what that means? Yep, throw your phone out the window (metaphorically, obviously, otherwise that’s fucking littering) and go off the grid for a year. The Siberian goatherd life is calling to you.

Yes, I do know that you recently went through a break up, because you’ve been incessantly tagging your other friends in memes on Facebook in hopes that it’ll show up on your ex’s timeline and prove to them that you’ve moved on and are doing just fine without them! We get it!

LEO

AQUARIUS

Bro, I promise you, they don’t care about the podcast you’re about to recommend to them. Save your breath. And your time.

This week is a good week to watch Good Omens. Why? The book is written by the late great Terry Pratchett (and Neil Gaiman), it has heavily homoerotic subtext, there are thoughtful depictions of the grey between good and evil, and there’s grungy religious symbolism! What’s not to love?

VIRGO

PISCES

Yes, there might be something in the woods outside your house that only comes out at sunset. So what? Leave out some food scraps. They could be a friend.

Respecting Women Juice and Get Strong Juice is one and the same. Sure hope you’ve been staying hydrated xx

POSTGRADUATE

INFORMATION EVENING Discover your postgraduate study options at Victoria University of Wellington.

6 PM, THURSDAY 26 SEPTEMBER 2019

Rutherford House, Pipitea Campus 23 Lambton Quay, Wellington Register at victoria.ac.nz/postgraduate

Enter Electric Kiwi’s Limerick competition and you could win a year’s free power!

We want to hear the best limericks that each Uni town has to share. Submit entries individually or as a flat, and the winner of each Uni town will win $500 credit and go through to the final round to compete for a year of free power! Enter via the Electric Kiwi Facebook page. Entries close 1/10/19.

T&C’s apply.