Issue 07 - Taboo by Salient

EDITORIAL

LETTERS & NOTICES

NEWS News Party Line Tweets Of The Week

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FEATURES (S)he's A (Fe)Male (Wo)man Burnt Honey The Naughty Girl's Chair

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CENTREFOLD

COLUMNS Talking With My Dad About Sex Fashion and Haute Tea In Our Environment Ngai Tauira UniQ SWAT VUWSA PSC: One Ocean From the Archives

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POEM

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REVIEWS Fashion Art Book TV Film Food

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ENTERTAINMENT Horoscopes

Two weeks off from anything can make you rethink your original purpose. For some of you, this was your first break away from university. For others, this will be the last. Whether you’re on the final stretch home or just figuring out what ‘Mandatory Course Requirements’ really means—welcome back. Your Salient whānau were working hard throughout the break to bring you an issue which we hope will challenge the way you see the grotesque, questionable, and the concerning. Taboo, by definition, is something which is “prohibited or restricted by social custom”. Taboo comes from the Tongan word ‘tapu’ or Fijian ‘tabu’. In 1777, when explorers travelled to the Pacific, the use of the word in Tongan culture was for ‘anything that is forbidden to be eaten or made use of’. Just as in te reo Māori, the current use of the word ‘tapu’ pertains to things that are ‘sacred’ or ‘holy’, in the sense of being protected by custom. Throughout the magazine this week, you will find references that have previously made you uncomfortable. At university, we will encounter things that question our morals. From the student who sits front row at your ECON 130 lecture and asks incessant questions about the Korean War, to that one person who makes you curious what using a sex toy would be like—these things are bound to happen. We are unable to hide from taboo topics, because they will come and pass, much like everything else in life. This week, we want you to challenge yourself to understand the real meaning of the word taboo. The definition from 18th century Tongan articles can inform us that it’s more than sex, masturbation, incest, and death. What we encounter and take into our bodies fuels us. That fuel not only allows us to fulfil our destiny and pursue our dreams, but has an effect on the way society shapes itself around us.

The only reason those things were forbidden was because the society around us deemed it sacred. We can use taboos to identify how history has changed and challenged the social customs of yesterday. Take us, for example: Taylor is a white woman from the US and I, a black man from the Carribbean. There are times in history when it would have been taboo for us to work in the same office, let alone touch each other. Now we out here on a tennis court challenging the university, because our ancestors challenged these taboos. The things the older generation cringe at are the things we so effortlessly support and forget. Let’s look back at history and assess what they overcame. What’s taboo yesterday is on the menu tomorrow. So tell us, how are you feasting?

Kii Small & Taylor Galmiche

Send your letters to editor@salient.org.nz

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.

Good morning All, I have a fairly nasty case of asthma that I need to carry an inhaler with me for, in the event my lungs were to seize up and I choke to death in a fairly painful episode. I was born with this since my genetics kinda suck, so to see students smoking cigarettes around campus even though this is supposed to be a smoke free campus is horribly disheartening. To be brief, students should save their smoking for elsewhere (or at least vape!) and campus security should be far more strict about enforcing these rules. It goes without saying that smokers are quite literally paying to kill themselves, so I have very little sympathy for them. Smoking is ultimately a choice that will result in your life being shorter and more miserable. Asthma is not a choice; and to start choking when I am walking to Hunter because someone is so selfish really grinds my gears. Vaping, while still awful for you and making people look like turds at least will not cause me to die if I inhale too much of someone's dispelled gases.

Hey Salient team, I just want to say I’m a general fan of being able to sit down and procrastinate my life with decent reads supplied by your awesome team. However, I was a little disappointed at the anonymous letter posted which slammed first year students (specially JSH residents) for getting the bus up the hill. I 100% agree, it’s not far and yes people have legs that walk - but what about the students who are fighting battles everyday like the rest of us, and all they want to do is go to their lectures?

The university has a responsibility to protect its students health and students should be perceptive of their peer's disabilities. Max E. Padd

Your feedback and opinions matter! Each week we’ll award our favourite letter with two tickets to Zealandia.

Send your notices to designer@salient.org.nz

BAD FEMINISTS COLLECTIVE

VICTORIA UNIVERSITY OF WELLINGTON VUW has announced an additional student consultation forum on their Sexual Harassment Prevention Policy. It will be held on Thursday, 9 May, 10–11 a.m. in Lecture Theatre 1 (VSLT1), Te Aro campus Additional information, including the draft policy and other student forums, can be found on the VUW website, under the “Current

A wholesome book club for bad feminists everywhere Mana wāhine: Feminism in Aotearoa April 10, 11 a.m.

students” tab.

sponsored by

What's the most awkward dinner conversation you had over the break? Send your replies to our Instagram stories @salientgram

About my tattoos.. "we didn't raise you to be this stupid" lol REPLY

"Blackwashing isn't a bad thing in movies because movies are fake anyway"

My Nana's desire to come back as a zombie

My armpit hair at 13 Neighbours reminding me at the dinner table that my parents fuck while I'm at uni

nan found out that anal bleaching was a thing.. choked on my roast lamb

My dad and his missus talking about having kids. He's 52, shes 33

discussing porn with my sis REPLY

Relatives were anti CGT

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News. Keen eye for news? send us any tips, leads, or gossip to news@salient.org.nz

MĀORI AND THE LAW (SCHOOL): BREAKING DOWN THE NUMBERS JAMI KERRIGAN A recent Official Information Act request has shown a proportionate increase in Māori law students over Aotearoa in the last few years. The Māori population of Wellington has increased by 8% since 2001. Now 10% of the Māori population reside here, in the capital.

at the time the request was made. This information, and longer-term trend data, is expected soon. Related to this, the data for second-year Māori student numbers is not indicative of pass rates at, or beyond, second-year.

Victoria University of Wellington states that it is “one of New Zealand’s leading universities for research into Māori knowledge and development”, but is this reflected in the law school? And how does this compare with other universities?

Other than the 10% of reserved seats, Ngā Rangahautira (the Māori Law Students’ Association at Victoria) encourages Māori students to commit to kaupapa Māori, with emphasis on safe kōrerorero.

The OIA reveals that the proportion of Māori students in first-year courses has remained stable from 2016 through 2018, only changing year by year by less than one percentage point (14.29% in 2016, 13.58% in 2018).

When Salient spoke to a lawyer who completed their studies at VUW, however, they pointed out that there were "limited" resources when it came to learning about the Māori systems of law at 200-level, and had hoped they weren't so "broad".

Passing into second-year, there is a cap on the total number of seats available. Previously capped at 300 students, this rose to 330 going into 2018.

"The proportion of Māori law students in second-year rose by 12.2% between 2017 and 2018; from 14.15% to 15.36%...

However, a 10% rise in total enrollment rise did not occur between these two years, as 2017 had already seen a second-year cohort of over 330 anyway. In fact, there was a 1.19% drop in total enrollment.

above the 10% of seats reserved for Māori students moving into second-year."

The proportion of Māori students did rise with the larger cap. The proportion of Māori law students in secondyear (those enrolled in the compulsory LAWS 297) rose by 12.2% between 2017 and 2018; from 14.15% to 15.36%.

As for the rest of Aotearoa, the University of Canterbury has “Te Tono Motuhēhē Discretionary Entrance” where students applying for admission must abide by all other entry requirements along with at least a C- pass rate. The University of Auckland (UoA) law school provides entry to Part II of their legal studies to 32 Māori students under their Undergraduate Targeted Admission Scheme.

A law student from UoA says the accessibility of Māori content has made them “extremely passionate”, though they are disheartened when others enrolled in law don’t share this passion. The student says “it wasn’t what [the others] were expecting, to learn as much as we did.”

This is above the 10% of seats reserved for Māori students moving into second-year. There are no other caps or quotas relevant to this data.

Salient will be looking at doing another stats breakdown on this issue in the near future. If you have any information, or personal experiences with the Faculty of Law at VUW, we would appreciate your insight. Please contact news@salient.org.nz.

The other notable point from the VUW OIA is that 2018 is the only time in the last three years that the proportion of Māori students has increased when passing from first- to second-year. 2016 and 2017 saw small drops (-0.14 and -0.77 points, respectively), while 2018 saw a much larger 1.78-point rise.

Universities' relevant OIA responses can be found by searching “Number of Law Students/Māori Law Students” on the FYI.org.nz website.

13% of all law students, including those in postgrad courses, are Māori. However, VUW was unable to provide a breakdown for each group

News.

MUD AND MENTAL HEALTH, VUW STUDENTS SUPPORTING GUMBOOT FRIDAY SAFARI HYNES CW: Mental Illness

Gumboot Friday was a recent national effort to bring awareness to mental health issues and depression, through wearing gumboots. A video was created by Victoria University students to encourage people to take part.

'Gumboot Friday.' We know that one video isn’t going to solve the issue of mental health in Aotearoa but if at least one person watches it and feels that they aren’t alone then that was a message worth promoting”. “Because at the end of the day some of us got to take those gumboots off after filming and some of us did not. Mental Health issues are a real-life battle every day for our people. And this video was for them.”

Gumboot Friday was held on April 5, with Kiwis all around the country taking part, not only to increase mental health awareness, but also to raise money for free kids counselling.

VUWSA Engagement Vice President Puawai Waller expressed the association’s support for Gumboot Friday, saying that, “We hope that each person who attends Vic, has the support in place to help them throughout their journey at university and if they don’t we want to help them find that.”

"Living with depression is like walking through mud, every day" is the main concern of Mike King, mental health advocate and New Zealander of the Year. King wanted to use the initiative to encourage as many New Zealanders as possible to wear gumboots, to "walk in the mud with them".

She described the event as “a day to come together and contribute in a positive way to an issue that is affecting so many people within Aotearoa.”

Ngāi Tauira led the creation of a montage of VUW students, from many walks of university life, wearing gumboots and going about their daily life.

“No student is simply a number in a statistic,” she concluded.

In an official statement, Ngāi Tauira Co-President, Te Mahara SwansonHall said that “Ngāi Tauira acknowledges that many of our whānau, friends, and students are dealing with mental health issues”.

More info can be found at www.iamhope.org.nz/gumbootfriday The ‘Gumboot Friday’ video can be found on the Ngāi Tauira Facebook page.

She continued, “We wanted to create something together that was positive and uplifting and showed solidarity with Mike King’s kaupapa

VUWSA BY-ELECTION RESULTS JOHNNY O’HAGAN BREBNER A livestream of the IGM can be found on the VUWSA Facebook page. With nearly 600 votes cast for each position, the by-election results for VUWSA’s Welfare and Sustainability Officer (WSO) and Engagement Vice President (EVP) roles were announced.

Both Waller and Turnbull thanked those who supported and voted for them in the campaign, with Waller echoing satisfaction at the degree of student engagement all round. Waller gave a “big massive shoutout” to the other EVP candidate Katie Berriman, expressing her keenness to work with Berriman and her ideas.

Previously filling the position as an interim member, Te Puawai o te Atua Waller was elected WSO for 2019.

Turnbull also thanked candidate and incumbent McIntyre for her work at VUWSA, saying she had “set a pretty high benchmark” and was looking forward to meeting it.

Newcomer Michael Turnbull just barely beat previous interim holder Kimberley McIntyre for the EVP candidate, by 12 votes. McIntyre told Salient that she was encouraged by how tight the race was, “as it signals increasing student engagement.”

Election Results: EVP Te Puawai o te Atua Waller: 310 Katie Berriman: 242 No confidence: 45 Total votes cast: 597

She also wished Turnbull and Waller well, and thanked the VUWSA exec for making her time as interim WSO “an absolute pleasure” and “a blast.”

WSO Michael Turnbull: 232 Kimberley McIntyre: 220 Sophie Lee: 109 No confidence: 35 Total votes cast: 596

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[INNUENDO ABOUT SEX WEEK BEING IN ALL THREE CAMPUSES] GENEVIEVE BOWLER CW: Mentions Sex, Sexual Violence However, Morar acknowledged that there were some “issues with the Te Aro satellite”, reflected in low turnout. At a VUWSA meeting on April 9, it was suggested that this was due to campus management hindering the organisation of the event.

Sex Week 2019 ran from April 1 to April 5 in the Hub at Kelburn Campus, with satellite events at both Te Aro and Pipitea Campuses. Last year’s Sex in the Hub was the first event of its kind hosted by VUWSA, featuring the promotion of sex positivity. Sex Week 2019 had a broader focus, including on preventing sexual harm.

Morar added that despite “good culture-setting”, constructive work was still required with management in the future.

Rhianna Morar, Welfare Vice President of VUWSA, described the key goal of Sex Week 2019 as giving wider appeal, which involved bringing more clubs and businesses and producing more interactive media as part of the campaign.

At the Pipitea event, the Feminist Law Society, Ngā Rangahautira, Pasifika Law Students’ Society, Asian Law Students’ Society, and VUW Law Students’ Society took leadership on sexual harm reduction alongside VUWSA.

This is a product of Morar’s campaign promises to expand the appeal of the event, from lobbying outside groups to work with students to end sexual harm at Victoria.

The events seemed generally well received, with some students telling Salient that “sex positivity is really important”. Students also considered the environment “very open”.

The addition of satellite events at both Pipitea and Te Aro Campuses in 2019 was another development. According to Morar, the aim of this was to capture more of the student body.

Despite one student showing concern that the events were “promoting the ideas of the devil to the youth of Wellington”, Morar believes that a strong partnership can be formed between VUWSA, VUW, and WCC in the effort to end sexual violence on campus and, eventually, in Wellington.

Pam Thorburn, Director of Student Academic Services, said she was proud to support VUWSA in ensuring that the event reached even more of the students across the campuses.

CONSULTATION OPEN ON NEW VUW SEXUAL VIOLENCE POLICY EMMA HOUPT CW: Mention of sexual violence

The website also says the proposed procedures that accompany the policy “set out how students and staff can report sexual harassment, what will happen when they do, and how they can access advice and support.”

Victoria University of Wellington (VUW) has put their draft Sexual Harassment Prevention Policy up for consultation and is asking for feedback from the university community.

Tinsley hopes that the policy will empower students and staff with regard to how they can seek help and support.

Speaking as an academic, VUW Faculty of Law Professor Yvette Tinsley says feedback from students and staff will ideally help advance the policy so that it reflects common values within the university.

She also thinks it will provide information about types of behaviour that will breach the policy.

Tinsley highlighted the importance of engaging with a range of viewpoints to “ensure that the policy will not only comply with the law but also accord with our community and its needs.”

“Policies like these can be one tool to ensure that when poor behaviour occurs, it is not accepted,” Tinsley says.

The Sexual Abuse Prevention Network works with various instutions and organisations, educating them on how to prevent sexual harm in these spaces.

McNamara believes that while the policy is an important element of preventing sexual harassment, it will not solve the problem alone.

General Manager Fiona McNamara agreed that consultation is a crucial step in developing the policy, to ensure the document serves the needs of staff and students.

“It needs to go hand in hand with other initiatives, particularly education and training. I think that education and training need to be really widespread, and reach all students and all staff.

The VUW website states that the draft policy “defines and prohibits sexual harassment, sets out how the University will manage disclosures and complaints of sexual harassment, and encourages safe active bystander intervention.”

The draft policy is available on the VUW website, with email submissions open until May 17 (policy-help@vuw.ac.nz). Consultation forums on May 8 at Pipitea, and May 9 at Te Aro and Kelburn campuses, are also available for feedback on the proposed document.

News.

Sex Week in The Hub, Kelburn Campus. Photos by Finn Carroll.

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SALIENT

EYE ON THE EXEC JOHNNY O'HAGAN BREBNER Probably the longest meeting of the year so far, April 9 saw a jampacked VUWSA exec meeting. Despite a sizeable “in committee” portion—with action points and contributions from all over the place, there’s a lot to get through. Most importantly: President Tamatha Paul declared her intention to get a new dog. This action point was quickly completed with the adoption of Biggie Paul (pictured below). Clubs Council The Clubs Council was brought up by Tamatha in her Presidential Report. The key issues were based around the administration of clubs at Victoria. Up until 2012, VUWSA managed official university clubs. Since then, they have taken a back seat to the university proper’s Victoria Recreation (VicRec). Apparently this came with complaints, and a poll suggesting that roughly two thirds of clubs would prefer to be managed by VUWSA.

Of great concern at the SAC were the changes to this year’s midtrimester assessment period (which were decided in 2016). The exam period is planned to be shorter, as is the marking period, with VUWSA expressing concern about it being “a mess the university made themselves”. The SAC, VUWSA academic team, and VicComm will all be working on the issue, and keeping students in the loop prior to assessments. Keep an eye out for information from VUWSA and further developments in Salient next week. Lecture Recordings Rinaldo Strydom lead the conversation on VUWSA’s attempts to make lecture recordings compulsory for all courses. The short-term period of compulsory recording following the Al Noor and Linwood Mosque Attacks was pointed to as an illustration of the university’s capacity to have comprehensive recordings, although some lecturers refused to record, even for that short period.

As such, the Clubs Council decided that VUWSA will begin to take on a bigger role in running clubs.

More work is to be done, with Rinaldo’s excitement clear—formally requesting that it be known he dabbed.

Also briefly discussed was the conversion of the old ANZ building at Kelburn to become a permanent space for Victoria’s clubs. Living Pā The Living Pā project was also discussed in the Presidential Report. Rhianna Morar, Puawai Waller, and Tamatha have been working on a proposal for buildings to replace the soon-to-beknocked-down Kelburn Parade (KP) rooms.

Clubs IGM Millie Osborne continued the meeting with her usual enthusiasm, outlining the recent clubs IGM. VUWSA and VicRec both attended, alongside 44 clubs, all hoping to improve the Vic clubs system. The main feature of the IGM concerned the constitution, with reforms and an election. Changes proposed by the clubs council last year were passed, with an “overwhelming majority” Biggie Paul enjoying the attention, April 2019. supporting changes to quorum requirements, Photo by Josephine Dawson. sub-committees, and the co-partnership model.

The “Living Building” concept is a seven-part “challenge” developed in the US to address the impact of building design on the environment. The Living Pā proposal, submitted by Rhianna in April, looks to adapt the challenge to its unique Pōneke setting.

Exams 2019: Condensed and Computorised The Student Academic Committee (SAC) discussed how the university is looking to finalise its digital exam system sometime soon, although there are some concerns, including about device compatibility. The law and commerce schools will be holding digital exam pilots, with the commerce school expected to use the system in practice exams this week. Geo acknowledged the work VUW Law Students’ Society had played in working with the law faculty on the project.

The clubs council was elected for 2019, with a new diversity on the council highlighted. It was suggested by Millie that the new representation was a consequence of open elections, rather than the previous de facto appointments. Save Fountown Tamatha recapped developments to the Kelburn liquor ban consultation process. Student submissions are now open until May 1, with a report due back in July this year. Tamatha expressed her frustration with the process, in light of finding out two complaints have been made to police from residents on the issue, and the “arguing” between WCC and VUW about whose problem alcohol control in the park is. Look up “Save Fountown” for more info on submitting.

News.

Opinion. GOVERNMENT NOT PURSUING CGT LACHLAN PATTERSON

YOUNG NZ FIRST AT VIC

Our tax system is fundamentally unfair. It’s one of the weakest in the OECD for reducing inequality. At present, New Zealand is one of few OECD countries that don’t tax income gained from assets, like property, rising in price. While we all pay income tax on wages and salaries, property speculators and the like get to enjoy their capital gains, just another form of income, totally tax free. How can that be considered fair?

We’ve heard, listened, and acted: No Capital Gains Tax— It’s been a decent amount of time since a politically winded Facebook post brought a significant smile to me, as opposed to the melancholic back-and-forth from either side of the ‘political spectrum’ in New Zealand. Rt Honourable Winston Peters once again has shown his mettle when it comes to bringing a glimmer of common sense amongst a whirlwind of clichés and hype regarding a rather significant piece of paper that’d affect the majority of New Zealanders.

70% of the assets whose capital gains would’ve been taxed, like any other income, are owned by just the top 10% of households, while the bottom 70% of households own just 10% of those assets. The current situation is a tax concession to the wealthy, at the expense of everyday wage-earners.

What comes to no surprise is the outcry from unapologetic left-wing POLS students from Ponsonby or Karori decrying the decision saying that it’s a win for inequality. Perhaps a quick trip to provincial New Zealand to explain to the straight-cut Kiwis, whose family home which is nestled onto a lifestyle section and would have been captured by the CGT stands to perpetuate this ridiculous postulation that they are putting the boot into those of lower socioeconomic status. The other swing of the pendulum is the ramifications that they would have endured should the coin had fallen on the other face. I don’t own my own personal home, I rent—in a four-bedroom apartment that has moisture ingress and a particularly nasty draught, and sits at a market rate a stroke shy of $900.

At the same time, the services we depend on remain underfunded and under-resourced. We have a mental health crisis, which the Labour Government has so far almost avoided addressing. 27% of children live in income poverty, and Labour currently doesn’t have the funds to address it. That’s not to mention the housing crisis, and the current ecological and climate crises. If you’re lucky to earn $250,000 over five years, you’ve paid around $40,000 in income tax. If a property investor sells their rental that they’ve had for five years, they get their $250,000 of income totally tax free. And that’s tax lost that could’ve funded transformational solutions that we are in dire need of, and a tax burden avoided by the wealthiest New Zealanders.

With Wellington rents already standing head-andshoulders over the rest of major suburban centres, the implementation of a CGT would’ve thrown the market further into turmoil—but hey, no need to be critical of the markets if you’re rallying behind half-cooked economic policy without scrutiny. The decision made better reflects the interests of major New Zealand, and it’s a stern reminder to those who believe New Zealand’s policy should be dictated out of Wellington and Auckland that the ones wearing gumboots daily are a stronger voice combined. I’m sure the debate will still continue, the Facebook posts will still rattle along—but remember, get woke, go broke.

If the government ever hope to be ‘transformational’, an ideal the Labour Party seem to have dropped, they do need transformational tax reform. We need transformational tax reform to be able to adequately address the many crises successive Labour and National governments have created and we’ve all inherited. But they’ve now ruled out a CGT forever, they’ve ruled out a range of other tax changes, and they’ve placed arbitrary limits on their spending and their debt, leaving their bank account too empty to meet any of the challenges we face. It’s no silver bullet, but Jacinda Ardern’s decision to rule out a capital gains tax ever being introduced under her leadership is a massive mistake, a significant back-down, and condemns this generation to decades of entrenched inequality.

ISSUE 7

SALIENT

PROBING THE PUNTERS GETTING TO KNOW THE SALIENT POPULATION

How would you define taboo?

Something that isn’t taboo, that should be?

Something you did that you probably shouldn’t have?

What result did you get in the Salient Sex Quiz?

Something that is taboo, but shouldn’t be?

RACHEL, 21, SALIENT DESIGNER

TAYLOR, 24, SALIENT CO-EDITOR

1. Things that are avoided and not talked about.

1. Topics we don’t want to be caught up in or associated with.

2. Raisins in salads.

2. Catcalling.

3. Vulnerability, loss and grief.

3. Female body hair.

4. Stayed at the office until 10pm.

4. Used Chloe's toothbruch while she was away.

5. Mostly D's. I'm not sure how accurate this is.

5. B’s bby.

JAZZ, 22, SALIENT FM CO-MANAGER

MONIQUE, 21, SALIENT TV CO-PRODUCER

1. Taboo is either things that you just shouldn't do or things that you "shouldn't do" but you kinda want to.

1. The spiciest kind of conversation stopper. 2. Assuming all women want to have kids in future.

2. That dumb facebook shit where a guy and girl become friends on facebook and bro mates comment "ay nice hope she's a goodie".

3. Pointing out when media is using minority-tokens rather than actually being inclusive .

3. Having those tough conversations around STI's, shit happens but honesty is key.

4. Ate two bowls of curry and binged the entire season of Russian Doll instead of spending quality time watching Shazam in cinema with my co-producer.

4. Answered this knowing full well that my name and job title are up on the line here .

5. I didn't take it but the editors can pick for me [Editor’s note: she’s definitely mostly Ds].

5. The results were inconclusive, just like my career path.

JOHNNY, [REDACTED], SALIENT NEWS EDITOR

JANNE, 24, SALIENT SUB EDITOR

1. A difficult theme to make content for.

1. Things we pretend don't exist. 2. Incest in Porn.

2. Any Act Party policy. 3. c a p i t a l g a i n s t a x.

3. Women's experience of their bodies.

4. Writing a challenging set of questions that I predictably had to provide my own answers for. 5. Mostly Cs. Just like my grades haha.

4. Talking about porn under my real name (also incest). 5. Mostly A's.

News.

THE PARTY LINE Given that this week’s issue is themed “Taboo”, and following the government's announcement that they would stop pursuing the contentious Capital Gains Tax, Salient asked your university youth wings to do the following: Explain or justify one of your party's most controversial policies to the students at VUW. With over a week to respond, two replied. Enjoy. VicLabour

Young New Zealand First

Hey students of Vic, how we doing. So one policy that was semi controversial was the banning of off shore oil exploration. If you were there at the announcement here at Vic, you know the vibe was AMAZING and we were definitely on board. The media and business community however were on a different page and weren't such a big fan but honestly what do they want to happen the planet is on a downward slope have they not seen Our Planet?? As we all know, the government is the one that needs to be making changes from the top. That's what Labour has done and will continue to do.

Young New Zealand First at Vic It may come to no surprise to the readership that Young New Zealand First stands behind the party’s long standing policies regarding immigration. We reject the notion that it’s inherently ‘controversial’, and the party has always justified its’ decisions on the matter. Furthermore, we fervently believe that an article from the Spin-Off, published shortly after the atrocity that occurred in Christchurch; stood only to demonise the party and leadership out of politically motived spite (however “virtuous”). However. this criticism is nothing unfamiliar to the party and its’ membership, and we will always welcome considered debate when challenged.

CORNER OF SHAME >:( VicNats

Greens@Vic [No Reply]

TOP on Campus

[No Reply]

Act on Campus Wellington

[No Reply]

VUW POLITICS WINGS GET DEBATING ANNABEL MCCARTHY CW: discussion of mental illness The Victoria University Politics Society hosted a youth wing debate as part of its “Politics Week” at the start of April. Youth representatives from six political parties debated a range of issues, including climate change, housing, education, mental health, and Te Tiriti o Waitangi. The first question asked whether the zero carbon bill, if passed, would be enough to properly mitigate climate change. All representatives agreed the bill could assist New Zealand in tackling its carbon emissions. However, Act on Campus emphasised the need to strike a balance between environmental protection and economic growth. The Young Nats believed the policy was not a “silver bullet”, and additional legislation would be needed. The youth wings found it harder to reach consensus when it came to the housing market. VicLabour and the Greens held that regulations for landlords around rental prices and standards were essential solutions. In contrast, Act and National agreed the answer was to build more houses and reform the Resource Management Act. Greens at Vic rebutted that neither of the parties had implemented these policies when in government.

Representatives also debated youth engagement in politics. Labour highlighted the need to make politics accessible for young people, as many struggle to understand the rhetoric. TOP on Campus and the Greens agreed the lack of civics education in secondary schools was a barrier to political engagement among youth. One of the most passionate exchanges was around the topic of mental health resource allocation. TOP on Campus and the Young Nats went head-to-head over the Mental Health Inquiry. TOP believed the review would assist with prevention, whereas National felt it was a waste of money. Act said communities needed to be better resourced. VicLabour and the Greens recognised the need for free counselling, stressing the idea that services should be tailored to satisfy individual needs. Finally, the youth representatives were asked about Te Tiriti’s relevance in everyday New Zealand life. VicLabour and the Greens said more needed to be done to uphold the Treaty’s principle of equality and end Māori marginalisation. TOP commented that Māori hold the highest rates of incarceration and suicide. Young New Zealand First believed Māori should not be treated differently to Pākehā and questioned whether settlements between the Crown and iwi had achieved anything. The livestream of the debate can be found on the VUW Politics Society Facebook page.

THE P E O P L E WA N T M O RE

This has prompted the council to fend off allegations that it closed Wellington for reasons of administrative efficiency, to avoid having to close each and every building within its sphere of influence individually.

On the bright side, the departure of thousands of Wellingtonians is expected to utterly destroy New Zealand’s vape juice industry.

COKE WITH JULZ M AD AM E M OISTUR E

With the first two weeks of Dancing with the Stars NZ done and dusted, a petition is doing the rounds on social media calling on judge Julz Tocker to reveal where he gets his cocaine. The petition, created by twitter user @sodomize_me_julz, has amassed nearly 20 signatures in two weeks, pointing out that “it’s clearly good shit, I don’t think I’ve seen him blink all season.”

WELLINGTON CLOSED AFTER REPORT IDENTIFIES IT AS EARTHQUAKE-VULNERABLE

Notable signatories include co-judge Rachel White, and 2018 DWTS contestant and Real Housewives of Auckland star Gilda Kirkpatrick.

LIAM PO WELL

A draft engineering report has led Wellington City Council to close our capital city down until further notice.

Kirkpatrick, who contacted Salient TV requesting an hourlong tell-all interview on the subject, cited lack of cocaine as the reason she was the first dancer eliminated in the 2018 season.

The report, which was delivered last week, stated that the city of Wellington has a "substantial risk" of being damaged in a seismic event, with "some possibility" of loss of life.

“If I’d known where to score decent blow this time last year, it would have been over for those hoes,” she told Salient.

Upon receiving the report, the WCC immediately opted to advise its citizens to leave its jurisdiction immediately, until further notice.

Kirkpatrick’s DWTS contemporary, David Seymour, made similar claims; stating that his robotic performance on the last season of the show was caused by unidentified prescription medications.

Mayor Justin Lester stated that while people might enjoy the culture and lifestyle of living in the capital, the health and safety of each Wellingtonian is the priority.

However, scientists have dismissed this, saying that Seymour’s infamous lack of co-ordination and inability to produce natural human facial expressions confirmed the long-standing theory that he is, in fact, a lizard person wearing the skin of a small dog.

"We've basically worked out that if an earthquake were to happen, at least three of us might die, and to me that's not worth the risk of staying here." Current Wellington residents are being advised to stay with friends and relatives outside of the immediate responsibility of the Wellington City Council. The seat of government is to return to Russell/Kororāreka in the Bay of Islands. Victoria University will relocate to Uganda for ease of name recognition.

“A key or so might have actually made him relatable, to be honest,” they concluded. Tocker, clearly bouncing off the walls in every single episode of DWTS thus far, has denied claims that he snorts coke in the ad breaks.

A council spokesperson noted several potential upsides to the disruption, including more available housing, reduced traffic, and less pressure on infrastructure.

He explained, “It’s just as hard for me to find coke in New Zealand as it is for the general public. I take whatever nondescript pills my dealer JD has going at the time.”

The move to close down the entire city comes in the wake of many other semi-permanent closures of public buildings in the Wellington area, among them the Courtenay Place cinemas, the Central Library, and the Naenae Pools.

Celebrities. They really are just like you and me.

TWEETS OF THE WEEK “I was very chronically ill for the majority of my BA and only two out of roughly twenty papers I took were recorded. while i didn't get abhorrent grades, i really wish that others had been so i didn't slip behind as much. not recording lectures throws sick people under the bus.” - @em_ma_maguire

“Consistent lecture recordings throughout @VicUniWgtn will be another step towards making tertiary study more equitable for all students at Victoria” - @RinaldoStrydom

CAN W E R E C OR D A L L LECTU R E S ( P L E A SE ) ? COL L ATED BY EM M A M AGUIRE

@em_ma_maguire

“Lecture recordings allowed me to attend a hui about the proposal to develop a Living Pā at @ VicUniWgtn - a 5 year project that will be a new Māori space on campus that will change the prominence of Māori tīkanga and mātauranga at @VicUniWgtn.”

“Lecture Recordings ensure accessible tertiary education. It is a big step in breaking down the barriers to tertiary education. It is imperative in making Uni a more equitable environment for all students from all communities.” - @Komalmahisingh

- @RhiannaMorar “Lecture recordings are allowing me to deal with my grief in my own time AND continue my studies after losing my stepfather to suicide @VicUniWgtn” - @grace_denise

“Lecture recordings stopped me outright failing courses after I got epilepsy” - @johagenbrebner “I try my best to attend my lectures, but without lecture recordings I would have struggled in my studies. Students consume lecture recordings in different ways and we at @VUWSA recognise how these contribute to student success. That's why we're fighting for them to be mandatory.” - @DJGeoRob

“Was too anxious to go to a lot of classes in first year and this would have helped heaps!! Such awesome stuff” - @kate_aschoff

Have a story about lecture recordings you’d like to share? @ VUWSA and spread the word.

Features You know the iconic Little Mermaid power pose? Effortlessly perched atop a boulder, a luscious mane of red hair whipping around in the wind but somehow never whipping her in the face, classic Disney features—plump lips, eyelashes reaching for the gods, complexion fit for a Fenty commercial—sea spray framing her like a halo, a revering throng of sea critters milling at her fins.

traditionally ‘feminine’ markers of makeup and bodices; (S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man inhabits the realm of the taboo. It transgresses societal standards of acceptability, and is certain to elicit unease and/or arousal in those who behold it. (S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man is glamorous, grotesque, ostentatious, evocative. (S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man is everything good drag should be.

Ivy on a Saturday night will ferry you into the same suspension of disbelief. Substitute sea spray for a cloud of smoke and sea critters for pigeons, and you have Wellington drag queen Scarlett Adams perched atop a city council rubbish bin, dragging on a cigarette. The only substantive difference, so far as I can tell, is that Scarlett looks just as likely to cut you as she is to burst into song. Well that, and she’s got a dick duct-taped between her cheeks. Taboo, by definition, is that which is “prohibited or restricted by social custom”. Drag inhabits the realm of the taboo. Or, as Frank Lewis writes in his Creative Exposition for Massey University titled (S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man: “Drag inhabits the realm of the grotesque”. Drag at its best subverts societal norms; it “compromises the acceptable”; it challenges hegemonic ideas of ‘normal’ and ‘natural'. Drag at its best defies expectations of beauty and gender by exaggerating and parodying them. It is glamorous, grotesque, ostentatious, evocative. Drag at its best makes you feel something; be it in your heart, mind, or pussy. S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man is drag at its best. Frank (a.k.a. Hariel) is a prominent Wellington drag queen, and holds a Bachelor of Design (Fashion) with First Class Honours to boot. (S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man—the crown jewel in Frank’s Honours programme—centres a four-piece drag-inspired fashion collection, and it is visceral. I’m not going to labour under the pretense that I know dick about design. The ingenuity of Frank’s line is that you don’t need to be a fashion aficionado to be affected by it. S)he’s a (Fe)male (Wo)man is a masterpiece in social commentary, exploring and exposing the supposed ‘naturalness’ of gender. It glorifies what society has told us to be ashamed of, and it will make you feel some type of way, regardless of whether your personal tendencies lean toward high fashion or slob goth. Taste Me features a mouth exploding from the bust; a tongue unzipping as if being split; a cascade of saliva dripping toward the floor. With Watching You, Watching Me, the viewer becomes the viewed: lenticular eyes follow you as the garment moves, creating a perverted sense of intimacy between onlooker and performer, akin to that between a Peeping Tom and victim, who—aware of being watched—puts on a show. Eyes Up Here is a tacky, campy take on the previous piece, parodying the nuance of Watching You, Watching Me with a bodice carpeted in googly eyes. Big Gays Don’t Cry is “unabashedly emotional” in contrast to Taste Me’s explicitly sexual overtones; a train of tears that weep from two dewy eyes on the bust. Immodesty, arrogant emotionality, allusions to bodily fluids; traditionally ‘masculine’ traits of chest and facial hair paired with

If Frank’s design work gets your juices flowing, his performance will send you into full-blown ecstasy. I’ve never been hornier in my life as when I first saw Frank hit the stage as Hariel. Wearing a bejewelled leotard, fishnets, and heels bigger than my ex’s dick, Wellington’s favourite bearded Disney princess flawlessly lip-synched Lady Gaga’s “talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing” monologue— complete with moves to which Beyoncé herself would give snaps— and I was moist. Hariel and I sat down over a beer (or three) and a durry (or seven) to spill the tea on all things drag. What interested you in drag? I started watching RuPaul’s Drag Race in my last year of high school—it’s a pretty typical introduction to drag I think. It was the fantasy of drag that was alluring: the costuming, the glamour, the extravagance. Definitely the attention. It’s a known fact that drag queens are attention whores. How did you get into drag? I first painted Hariel in 2014 when my boyfriend had a Disneythemed birthday party. Halloween and dress-up parties are a more risk-free way to get in drag—everyone is dressed up, so there’s more opportunity to blend in. I wanted to go as Ariel, but I didn’t want to shave because I’d look like I was 12, and that’s not cute. I looked busted as fuck. Looking busted the first time you paint is pretty typical, too—no one looks good the first time they try anything. The best thing about doing drag? The applause. The worst thing about doing drag? The heels. Who’s your favourite local queen? Can I say myself? [laughter] Well, a group of us: The Good Judy’s, because we’re Wellington’s elite. It’s me, Harlie Lux, Kelly Fornia, Yonic Kunt, and LUNA. Also Lucy Forrestal. We’re very polished, very committed, very supportive of each other.

(S)HE'S A (FE)MALE (WO)MAN Who’s your favourite queen globally? Miz Cracker. Definitely Miz Cracker. Drag at its best is great performance, and her fucking performances. are. everything. She tells a story with every performance. Looking great is one thing, but turning out a stage, that’s the fucking best. Also her mixes are, like, fire emoji. Dos and Don’ts when it comes to going to a drag show or interacting with the performers? Tell us how great we look, even if we look like trash. Buy a drag queen a drink—but don’t act entitled. Do ask a drag queen for a photo—definitely use flash—but if they say no, deal with it. Give up your seat for queens, we are uncomfortable—there’s tape, there’s glue, there’s shit stabbed into our scalps—and we are tired. This is the green zone on the bus. And if you’re at a show, fucking cheer! What the fuck is up with not cheering?! Don’t touch a drag queen, anywhere, unless given consent. Most of the “don’ts” are about touching. People love to go “ooh look at this spectacle, let’s touch it”—bitch I spent hours on this shit, do you go to an art gallery and rub your hands on the paintings, you animal?? There’s probably a venn diagram somewhere of people who touch drag queens’ hair and people who touch the art in galleries that’s just a perfect circle. What makes a good drag queen? Learning your words, enunciating, being expressive, telling a story. A performance needs to be layered; every aspect of what the audience sees has to be considered. Being likeable. That doesn’t mean you have to be nice—you can be an asshole and still be likeable; it’s about reading a room and knowing the right time to be an asshole. Being likeable is about having a good sense of who you are, having a brand and a memorable persona. It’s about having a positive and lasting impact. Because if no one remembers you, who gives a fuck? You’re not doing drag if you’re not… ...making people think; making people feel something. Drag needs to be evocative, and needs to make people think about the larger political climate. If it makes you feel apathetic, then it’s not good drag.

And now, the moment you all knew was coming: Baselessly Authoritative And Unsolicited Hot Takes With Sash. Or should I say, with Madame Moisture, as I was christened when Frank showed up at my flat with what I can only assume was half of Wellington’s makeup supply in tow to put me in full drag. I was reluctant to write on the subject, to say the least. Sure, I froth RuPaul’s Drag Race like a first-year Weir lad froths a six-pack of Diesels and a few laps around Kelburn Park—but I didn’t feel like I had any place handling the nuances of drag in a wider context. Sure, I answer the hypothetical “so what do you want to do when you grow up?” with “Alaska Thunderfuck”—but I’m not a drag queen, it’s not my lane, and I wouldn’t be swerving into it with the confidence of your local reply-guy on an Insta-hottie’s thirst trap. Frank agreeing to put me in drag in the name of journalism, however, was all the conferred authority I required to put pen to paper on the subject. Looking at myself in the mirror after Frank transformed me into a carbon-copy of Hariel, I got straight-up horny. I have never felt better about myself in my life as I did when I became Madame Moisture. I was infused with more confidence during the hour I spent parading around my backyard in a mermaid costume/beard combo wearing three pairs of eyelashes all but glued to my eyeballs and a wig, than I’ve ever been in my 25 years on this planet. The mainstream narrative doesn’t allow confidence to those who don’t fit the “conventionally attractive” norm, so we inevitably attach these ideas of being confident and strong-willed to looking a certain way. It’s not that when Frank painted me in drag I suddenly acquired confidence—it’s that I felt like I was allowed to be confident, that I had permission to be so. Drag is permissive by design. Society plagues us with images of thin/white/cis/straight/able bodies with the intent to make us want to become what we see, and tells us we don’t have value—that we have no right to be confident—if we don’t. Drag shows us images that diverge from the mainstream narrative; shows us that confidence isn’t reserved for those who fit certain narrow and unrealistic criteria. It accepts, affirms, and glorifies diversity. Society makes us want to fit its own narrow standards of excellence; drag makes us want to be the most excellent version of ourselves—whatever that may be. Body hair; girls with sideburns and boys hairless as baby seals; girls with dicks and boys with tits; saliva; fat rolls; stretch marks; unabashed emotions. Drag makes these things visible, beautiful, normal. Because they are normal. We’ve just been taught that we have to look and act a certain way to be worthy and valid as human beings. Drag is the supreme, physical embodiment of Pride—it seeks to show that the unacceptable is acceptable, society has just told us it’s not.

In keeping with a tradition of uninspired, corner-cutting, selfgratifying millennials, a few months ago I put a question to the people of Instagram: What should I write about for Salient this year? Frank, in keeping with a tradition of brazenly attention-hungry, cock-sure Drag Queens, came back to me with one word: “drag”.

Drag embodies beauty by parodying beauty. Drag embraces the parts of humanness society tells us are taboo. Drag allows us confidence to be our most authentic selves when societal norms do not. Confidence is a fantasy, and Madame Moisture had me feeling it.

WELCOME BACK WEEK VU SA VUWSA Easter Egg Hunt Missed the Easter Bunny when trying to catch up on your readings? We will be hiding Easter eggs all around campus, find one and redeem for the real thing! Tuesday 30 April – Thursday 3 May

Free Pancakes VUWSA is here to sweeten the post-break blues with FREE pancakes. Wednesday 1 May, 12pm Tim Beaglehole Courtyard

Back 2 School Quiz It’s like a NCEA exam… but you actually want to attend! Register your team at vuwsa.org.nz/back-2-school for a night of beers, besties and banter. Wednesday 1 May, 6pm The Hunter Lounge Head to facebook.com/vuwsa for more info

CW: Corporal Punishment When I was born, my father vowed that, unlike his own father, he would never hit his children. So instead, he invented the naughty girl’s chair. It was a small wicker chair, the perfect size for a four-year-old’s body, that sat in the corner of our living room. Whenever I’d been naughty, my father would send me to the chair, to think about what I’d done. I would cry, and quietly meditate on my crimes, distraught that I’d caused any sort of conflict. But after a while, my mind would wander. It was hard to stop. I’d try to punish myself by feeling guilty, but soon slip away into worlds that I’d built in my head (mostly medieval ones, with an 80’s rock soundtrack), and go on grand adventures with dragons and knights and witches. It was so easy,

and so difficult to punish me. I’d agree that I needed to be punished, and then would turn my punishment into a game. Discipline wasn’t a big thing in our household, though. It didn’t need to be. To me, my parents’ word was law, and I never thought to question them. I was so determined to please that disobeying never crossed my mind. Not even in situations when I could clearly get away with lying. “Are you allowed to have coke?” I was once asked at a birthday party, when I was four years old. I would have loved a coke. Like many four-year-olds, I loved sugar. The fizzing magic of soft drinks were intoxicating and heady, a young girl’s drug. But I couldn’t lie. “No, my parents say I can’t.” I said religiously, and drank and orange juice instead, even though I hated orange juice.

Features My mum was so proud that I listened to her rules in her absence that she told the other mums all about it. “My daughter is so obedient,” she would crow, as if there were no other quality in the world that could measure up. I was obedient, and seeing how happy it made her made me happy. It didn’t take long for me to grow out of the wicker chair. But I liked sitting in it anyway. Even though it was the designated discipline chair, I thought of it as my chair, and resented when others would use it. It was a good place to let my imagination run wild, and I was secretly proud of the fact that I was so clever I was unpunishable, but so obedient that I never needed to be punished. It was like there was an unspoken contract in place between me and my parents: I would be perfect, and they would love me. I would be everything they wanted me to be, and they would never punish me. Like all children, I thought my parents were superhuman, that they knew everything; and that if I followed what they taught me, I’d become the perfect adult with the perfect life. The idea of cultural pride also became tangled up in this push for perfection. From an eastern perspective, children are meant to be quiet, obedient, hard-working and respectful, to a degree that stifles independence and creative thinking. To talk back to your elders is taboo. But in a western country like NZ where independence and autonomy are prized, obedience was unfashionable. When I was twelve, kids started teasing me for not swearing, because my parents had told me not to. This wasn’t a good enough reason for a group of adolescents. Obedience was a weakness, and edginess was all the rage. One lunchtime, all the girls in my class trapped me up a tree and said they wouldn’t let me down until I said ‘fuck’. It must have been a funny picture from the ground—me lying on my stomach, limbs wrapped around a tree branch, holding on for dear life, with all exits blocked by a pre-pubescent horde chanting, “Say shit! Say fuck! Go on, say it! Say it!” We all stayed up there, locked in a stalemate, until the bell finally rang and we all had to go inside. “I don’t know why you didn’t just swear,” Kimberley sighed. “My parents told me not to,” I said religiously. And vowed to always keep her in my sight when up trees. My parents views also dictated my boundaries, in ways I’d never considered: In my culture, beginning menstruation is a paradoxical event. You are now officially a woman, and we shall celebrate, but now that you are a woman, small freedoms must be taken away. Periods make you unclean, so you must be locked away from the rest of the world for the duration of your first one. You are also too dirty to go to temple, with some temples going so far as to ban all women between the ages of ten and fifty, just in case. While my family were feminist enough not to segregate me, periods—and indeed anything to do with reproduction and sex—were a taboo subject, so my mum never talked to me about them until after mine had arrived. But while I wasn’t to know what was going on with my body, my dad was so proud that he rang all his siblings across the world to tell them the good news. And then we held a sadenge, a coming-of-age ceremony, where I got lots of money from relatives and we broadcast the fact I was now of “marriageable age”. “Isn’t it a bit weird that everyone knows?” a white friend asked me. “That you’re bleeding?”

How could it be weird? My family were the ones who were shouting it from the rooftops, so why did I need privacy? My sadenge was an exciting experience. I wore my first ever sari, and spent the ceremony proudly sitting in the naughty girl’s chair—I had to, in order to be low enough for my relatives to paint my skin with mangal, and circle my face with fire. My parents were so proud, so proud that their daughter was now a woman. I’d never experienced that level of pride in my life before, not for all my obedience, all my accomplishments, all my drive, my passion, my integrity. It made my heart sink to feel like my body was more important to them than my soul, but I believed that they knew what was important, and what wasn’t. Then one day, when I was 13, I came home wearing my friend Jodee’s jeans. My own clothes had gotten soaked in the rain, and she’d been kind enough to lend me a dry set. I walked through the door into the kitchen, and stopped when I saw my father. His face was thunder. Without a word, he bunched up my hair in his fist and dragged me down the hallway to my bedroom. I don’t really remember what happened next. My memory has fragmented into little pieces, leaving me only with bits of truth. I know that I cried fat, ugly, desperate tears. I know that I begged. I know that I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but my heart broke anyway. I remember his remorse afterwards. He’d grown up poor, and seeing me wearing someone else’s clothes made him feel like he hadn’t provided enough. He accepted my explanations that here, in this western country, it was normal for girls to share clothes. He apologised. But it was too late. He’d already broken his vow, in the most horrific way possible. Not only had he punished me physically, he’d hit me with abandon, without restraint, and without justification. We never talked about it again. We also never used the naughty girl’s chair again. It sat in the living room, growing older, gathering dust. It’s still there, whenever I go home. I sit in it sometimes, folding my 24-year-old frame into a four-year-old’s chair, and let my imagination wander, just like I used to. I go back to a time when I believed in dragons and knights and witches, and the words of my parents. And I wish that I didn’t have to open my eyes.

Features

LOFA TOTUA

First tutorial of the year. When I open the door, I underestimate my strength, thinking it to be all used up in my journey here. It swings open violently and I trip into the room where awkward gazes greet me. Frozen, my legs are lead and I’m stuck on display for too long. My overpacked bag clings to my back like a tortoise shell. I look like a fresher, but a Year 9 new-to-college version. I sweep the room quickly and realise the ‘less baggage the better’ memo seems to have slipped me again, both physically and mentally. I squeeze in the narrow gap between the seats and the wall, shuffling and trying hard to not smash my backpack into anyone’s seated head. My hair shields my face, almost as if it knows. Left it natural today, hoping that no one would guess; I couldn’t be bothered with product or getting into a fight with the straightener this morning. When I finally manage to reach my seat, I shrug off the shell and collapse into the chair. The plastic seat is too hard for my ass, and my back aches. The nape of my neck is slippery.

still be stumbling up Mt Everest and she would be Sir Edmund Hilary at the top. Her poised posture and careful movements rub off on me immediately, and I find myself drawing strength from her own self-ease. I’m encouraged and remind myself that I need to calm the fuck down. I’ve done the prep that was required, and that is all that matters. Out of the corner of my eye I feel eyes on me and realise it’s her. Insta-model is smirking at my holey shoe. I turn and make eye contact and suddenly, I’m not stressing and anxious and scatterbrained anymore. Her eyes are beady as they judge me, passing over my crumpled top and resting on my messy hair. I knew I should have straightened it. And at least chosen a top without wrinkles. Her gaze shifts to my laptop and lingers on the sticker over the front camera—a worthy safety precaution from government eyes, but I find myself wishing I wasn’t so childish. The tutor rushes in and expresses his apologies but not before I turn cold.

I stopped climbing Mount Everest (Wellington version) ten minutes ago and I’m still dripping—and not in the gold chains gleaming, Gucci fit fire kind of way. I open my laptop; the reflection catches me subtly trying to look at my current state without being openly vain. I look and feel like one of those Troll dolls. For fuck’s sake the guy next to me can probably smell my B.O. He’s cute. Tall. Ethnically ambiguous. Wearing worn jeans. His hair is cut short on the sides but the top—his natural waves are better than mine. Upon closer examination I see that his shirt is none other than Hilfiger. Basic or rich? I find myself thinking, ‘I can be your Tommy girl if you want.’

We are given 20 minutes to re-read the tutorial prep and attempt to answer it properly; the tutor is adamant no one could have been bothered to do it beforehand. I’m unsure what to do and still shocked from the coldness. Do I know her from something? The tutor finishes scribbling on the instructions on the board. Maybe I was rude to her at a party… Could she be from primary? The tutor sets the timer. Before I can put up my hand to explain that I have already completed the problem, the tutor doesn’t wander, but strides directly to where I’m sitting and hovers behind me. She asks if I need help to do the exercise properly.

Where the heck is our tutor though? The other people in my tutorial seem to catch my energy and there is an air of agitation and sweat—this room is too small. I glance around and realise Tommy Boy is one of two males—the rest are super polished chicks. Like thin thin too. Unlike myself, they have the minimalist thing on lock, as well as decorated fingers, and boujee sunglasses. Must be to deflect any ugliness. Did I even think before putting on my clothes today? Or my shoes? I’m wearing my black converse as always— always might just be the reason I can see my sock through the left side. Bet I have bags under my eyes from working on the tutorial problem last night. Should not have left it so late. At least I’m confident in my answer enough to hopefully strike a conversation with Tommy Boy when sharing time rolls around.

Wait. What? My face is burning, and I can feel Insta model and Tommy Boy from both sides looking down at me. I bring up the prep and show my tutor how it’s already completed. He is shocked and feigns apology but only after hovering for another 30 seconds. It’s not until we reach the end of the tutorial that it hits me. What I’m wearing, my holey shoe, my hair, the absence of my minimalist tote—none of that is what makes me different. It is something much more obvious, a point of difference that is… permanent. The tutor is finishing up his example on the board and I glance down. On my right, I see the cool, ivory skin tone of Insta-model—creamy, flawless, and perfect. My arm runs parallel to hers, resting on the table in stark contrast. Soft, the colour of burnt honey, and unapologetically brown.

The door swings open and our tutorial group holds their breath. The most gorgeous chick I’ve ever seen enters. She is beauty. She is grace. And she ends up sitting next to me in the last free seat. I don’t believe in competition but if there was one this morning, I would

Helen Li, Birth Control, Digital Ill

lustration, 297 x 420 mm, 2018

I hate introductions. It’s cliché, I know, but I would rather stick a pin under my toenail and kick a wall than engage in yet another icebreaker or ‘talk to the person next to you’. Arriving at the halls last year and being thrown into a week of ‘speed dating’ and ‘getting to know your floor’ represented something close to my worst nightmare. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some solitary hermit with no friends. I do enjoy socialising and, in fact, I love meeting new people, but I absolutely despise introductions. Because I have to say my own name. And this is something I often struggle with. Ever since I was three, I have had a stutter, a speech disorder described by New Zealand organisation Stuttering Treatment and Research Trust (START) as “an involuntary interruption to the flow of talking”. Also known as a ‘stammer’, severity of the condition varies greatly, from an occasional stumble to a stutter every sentence, and even complete lack of speech. The exact cause of stuttering remains unknown, but it is “thought to be a physical disorder, most likely resulting from a problem in the neural processing area involved in speech production.” The disorder is much more common in males than females, and can be genetically inherited. Having a stutter is like finding yourself trapped in a maze every time you go to speak. Speech means navigating a labyrinth inside your head, trying to find a clear path from your mind to your tongue, while avoiding towering walls of words you just

know you won’t be able to overcome. Sometimes—like your first time entering the Von Zedlitz building—this maze simply has no escape route, leaving you with two options: silence, or breaking down a wall. Breaking down a wall results in a stutter, which can take several forms, including the repetition of syllables or whole words; prolonged sounds; or blocks, where the stutterer is completely unable to get the word out for a time. I hate the feeling of breaking down a wall. Tension and self-consciousness engulfs me, and my confidence drops like bank balances during O-Week. This is not my idea of a good time, and I try to avoid it as much as I physically can. I was fortunate enough in my childhood to have the support of speech therapists, as well as friends and family, so my stutter is now virtually unnoticeable to most people. I have strategies that can help reduce the effects of my stutter, including softening hard consonant sounds, which can often be the hardest to say, and slightly slowing my speech. After years of practice, I have also become adept at quickly conjuring up synonyms and ways of rephrasing sentences that will allow me to speak smoothly. However, these strategies do not always pull through. There’s no synonym for my own name and it just so happens that a hard ‘f’ sound is one I struggle to say the most. Great. This has lead to countless awkward introductions and situations throughout my life. I constantly run words and phrases through my mind, checking to see if I can visualise a clear path, trying to trace a route through the maze with my finger before I draw the line. I do these test runs

Features in tutorials at uni, trying to decide if I should attempt to break the pin-drop silence that ensues after the tutor has asked a question. I do it when there’s an opportunity to introduce myself, foraging frantically through my brain for a way I can smoothly incorporate my name or avoid it completely. The maze can quickly become a familiar and lonely place, but that certainly doesn’t mean there aren’t others who find themselves caught in their own verbal jungles.

this, stuttering has seen at least a few positive moments in the spotlight. The King’s Speech, an excellent portrayal of King George VI’s struggles with his stutter on the verge of World War II, won Best Picture at the 2010 Oscars. Many other current and former world leaders have fought their own battles with a stutter, including old mate Winny P, Mr Bean actor Rowan Atkinson, and walking meme Joe Biden. Having these charismatic and admirable lads for company no doubt helps when your stutter is being as persistent as that cold you picked up back in week one. 19-year-old Leith Maxwell, from nearby Paekākāriki, has But the most significant impact tends to come from closer to home. stuttered since he was about 8 years of age. This is relatively old; most stutters appear during the toddler years, hitching a ride Many stutterers, while not finding it pleasant by any stretch of with speech development. Leith’s decided to pull up late to the the imagination, are relatively content with their condition within party, following in the footsteps of a childhood lisp and a long themselves. Any drop in confidence can often be put down more period of being sick. It affects him daily, getting worse with tired- to the reactions of others than anything else. However, knowing and nervousness, similar to most stutterers. His confidence is the how to approach a stutter can be tricky. Each stutterer has their primary casualty of the battles through the maze; “mentally, it can own preferred response, with some reassured by light-hearted really knock me down sometimes and I just feel really bad and jokes at their expense and others more comfortable with feigned awkward about it”. This can lead to a downward spiral of sorts, as ignorance that a stutter even happened. Generally though, stuttering can cause more nervousness and stress, making further patience and focussing on the ‘what’ of speech, rather than the stutters more likely. Leith’s stutter can also impact more specific how, are the key ingredients for a comfortable conversation. parts of his life; “it can make learning Māori difficult because I Avoid finishing sentences for the stutterer and give them time to know what to say but don’t always have the ability to say it as speak. But above all—as ironic as it sounds—talking is key. Ask fluently as I can”. what works for the stutterer and if there's any way you could help. Oddly enough, different languages This is something I think us stutterers can sometimes prove to be sanctuaries need to work on as well, despite for stutterers. Some find that their stutter the difficulty this brings sometimes. is nowhere to be seen when speaking A maze is much easier to navigate outside of their native tongue, likely in the light than hidden away in the due to different languages requiring dark. the usage of different parts of the brain. As a language student myself, it is both A common question stutterers are fascinating and quite exciting to know asked is, “Do you wish you would this potential is out there. I am, however, yet to cross paths with a just wake up one morning and find that your stutter is gone?” The language I don't have at least some sort of love-hate relationship answer is almost universal; despite the struggles, discomfort and with. The search continues. Other stutterers find that their stutter embarrassment having a stutter brings, it remains an integral part can peculiarly—but very helpfully—make itself scarce in high- of who they are. In Leith’s words, "I don’t wish I never stuttered pressure situations like army camps, where fluent speech is all as it is a kinda big part of me… It helps you empathise for others but a necessity. Instances such as these reflect just how little is who undergo similar problems." Joe Biden agrees; "in a sense, it’s currently known about stuttering, though the condition is actually probably the best thing that ever happened to me […] It sensitized surprisingly common. me in a way that maybe wouldn’t have happened [otherwise]." I, too, share this sentiment. Having a stutter can be fucking 1 in 100 people have a stutter, meaning that chances are, there annoying. It would certainly be nice to be able to introduce myself is at least one stutterer in each of your lectures, and over 200 at sometimes without feeling like I’m crashing through a brick wall Victoria as a whole. But stuttering remains a hidden condition. It’s and starting a collection of perplexed looks. As Leith so eloquently not easy talking about your condition when talking is exactly what puts it, “it does kinda suck sometimes”. But stuttering is part of the condition makes difficult. Many stutterers, myself included, me, influencing my daily life and how I view people with similar actively try to avoid stuttering, hiding it from themselves and conditions, forcing me to have a ‘think before I speak’ mentality. I others. And stuttering has a rather nasty habit of hiding itself can’t (and don't) let it define me, but without my stutter, I’m not me. away, lying in wait for a particularly inconvenient situation—a So no matter how many mazes I find myself caught in, I'll never job interview, perhaps—before rearing its head. What follows is wish I'd never seen the inside of their walls. little public knowledge about stuttering. Many have hardly heard of stuttering before, and actually hearing someone stutter can leave them unsure on how to react. Leith has experienced his fair share of interesting responses, from the usual laughs and looks of confusion, to empathy, and even assumptions of dyslexia. Stuttering—the physical act, rather than the condition—is often associated with nervousness or lack of intelligence, which can lead to some quite undesirable (and untrue) perceptions. Despite

Hi I’m Lena. My dad is a sex therapist and I’m studying to be a sex educator—we’re here to talk relationships and sex, so send your queries and worries our way (sex@salient.org.nz) “I haven't had sex in over a year. I'm not ugly and I don’t lack confidence. It just doesn't seem to have happened in a while. Do I need to start trying harder? How do I go about getting back in the game?” Lena: I should preface my response by acknowledging that I have no idea how hard you are trying. It might be good to start being more purposeful about meeting new people, but if you’re already in the dark hole of five Tinder dates a week, then maybe chill out. In saying that, apps are probably my number one option for increasing your chances of sex if you aren’t already using them. I know they’re not everyone’s cup of tea, but if you’re wanting to break the seal and get back in the game, then they are a good place to start. On the other hand, going on a bunch of Tinder/Grindr/ Bumble dates of varying quality will remind you just how bad shit sex and shit dates can be. This might sound extremely pessimistic, but when you haven’t been active for a while, it can be easy to make things into a big deal or feel like your life is really lacking because you’re not dating or having sex. It’s ok to look forward to having sex with someone again, but avoid overestimating how much better your life would be if only you were getting some. Putting yourself out there, even if it ends up kind of sucking, can help you feel more chill about taking some time for the right situation to pop up. It’s pretty uncommon to find a partner in which all the admin stuff and the sexy stuff align. Give yourself time to figure it out. Lastly, it’s ok if you want to make your sex life a priority, but just make sure you’re not compromising your values or boundaries just for the sake of having sex. Take it from me— that shit isn’t worth it.

Dad: It’s probably a good sign that you haven’t had sex for a while. It suggests to me that you aren’t settling for “just anything” or being desperate—neither of which are wise or safe places to come from. In fact, it’s a great way to attract arseholes. So firstly, congratulate yourself for avoiding that trap. It occurs to me to ask whether there is any conflict within you about the sex you are looking for? As in, “Part of me just wants to get laid, part of me wants connection or closeness or (something)”? It’s really normal for us to have conflicting motives but, if that’s going on, it can lead to you looking in the wrong places or sending off confusing vibes. Unless you have a prohibition against self-pleasure, you don’t need a partner to just get off. So there’s inevitably more going on when you are wanting partner sex. It’s really important to know what it’s for, why it’s become important to you, and to work out what else is going on for you around sex (and relationships). Once you get that clear, make sure that your online profiles, who you’re approaching, and what signals you are giving them are lined up with the reasons you want sex. Assuming that it’s the lack of a suitable partner (with the emphasis on suitability), you may want to try some oldfashioned tricks like going to IRL events & meetings, or joining online groups where there are likely to be people who share your values and interests. My final tip is not to “try harder” but to be bold in approaching people who look interesting online and, especially, IRL. If you are willing to risk being turned down, you can save yourself a lot of time, energy, and angst.

TE PAEA HOORI

UNCLIP THE NIP I’ll never forget the first time it happened. I was a month into my second semester of uni. I knew at the time that if I picked up my stiletto-clad feet fast enough, I could make it from my doorstep to uni in six minutes. But that morning—like most mornings in first year—it was 8:57 a.m., and I had given myself exactly three minutes to show up to my lecture on time. Boosting up the hill with overdue library books in one hand and an underdone slice of peanut butter toast in the other, I began to feel the eyes of passersby. It wasn’t the kind of stolen glances I smugly pretend not to notice when I wear my favourite pair of tight, high-rise jeans. No, these looks read as alarm. Looking down, I tried to determine what it was that was going to render this experience worthy of Girlfriend magazine’s embarrassing stories section. (I would like to note that reading that magazine section during my formative years is responsible for a somewhat irrational fear of leaving the restroom with a giant wad of toilet paper stuck to my shoe. To this day, I check my feet every single time I leave a bathroom.) But it wasn’t a wad of toilet paper. It wasn’t an exposed tampon string. It wasn’t unsightly sweat marks. That morning, in my rushed departure from my residence, I had forgotten to wear a bra. And let me tell you: It. Felt. Great. It was 2014, and the world wasn’t quite ready for the return of the visible nip—frequently sported during the 90’s by the likes of Friends’ Miss Rachel Green. The 2018 “naked dress” phenomenon hadn’t yet swept the red carpet, and Kim K hadn’t yet stepped out in a nipple-baring, translucent, baby-blue bustier. As I stood there, wasting 60 seconds of my three-minute travel window, I registered the sense of liberation that came from unshackling myself from the boney grips of underwire—I knew there was no going back.

This did little to quell my long-lasting love affair with lingerie. But as the years passed, the inclusion of bras in daywear ensembles became less and less frequent. At this point, if I do happen to don a boob-cage, my flatmates presume I’m going to either a job interview or a presentation. My journey from push-up bras to boundless comfort hasn’t been without its moments. Living in a city as diverse and generally accepting as Wellington leads to something of a culture shock when I find myself plucked from my big, queer, feminist bubble. On one occasion, while on a mid-year trip (that may or may not have been funded by laundered StudyLink resources), I was passing through customs in Houston. I’m shitting you not, the border security officer stopped what he was doing, looked at me, looked at my chest, then looked back at me with his eyebrows raised. “I’m making a statement?” I said hesitantly. “That you are,” I heard him wryly mumble before stamping my passport and sending me on my way. Another time, I had just started at my boxing gym, and it hadn’t occurred to me whatsoever that this might be the kind of situation worth locating a sports bra for. Upon seeing my very evidently non-sporty self, the trainer made a point to provide one-on-one coaching throughout the class. Let me just say that after wearing what was a regretfully thin and unsupportive singlet from Disney World to a trial class, I had no doubt to the trainer’s professionalism—not even the slightest flicker of the eyes. Wishing you freedom from puritanical dress codes and endless comfort. (Please also wish me luck as I publish a Google-accessible article about my nipples the same week I embark on my hunt for employment.) Sincerely,

DANICA SOICH

Old mate reckons there’s a taniwha in the lake. At night it barks like a dog. Lately it’s been dragging sheep out from the paddocks to drown them in the dark swirling waters…. Eels are a thing of countless myths and legends which float in the mind of every freshwater swimmer. But as their population declines, perhaps we should peer deeper into the dark assumptions around these misunderstood freshwater serpents. Freshwater eels, of the genus Anguilla, are ancient fishes. They began evolving more than 50 million years ago, branching into 16 species and three subspecies. Three species ply our fresh waters—the longfin eel (tuna kūwharuwharu), the shortfin, and the Australian shortfin. Of the three, the New Zealand longfin is the monster of legends. Witnesses have described them as “logs that moved”, sighting eels up to two metres in length—much longer than a person is tall—and weighing up to 40 kg. We are unnerved by eels for more reasons than their gargantuan size. Their leathery, coiling bodies, although studded in tiny scales, are covered in a gooey layer of slime. Their day-to-day lifestyles are rather antisocial. During daylight, they hide within freshwater networks under rocks, logs, and banks; summoned only by blood. Their desire is for darkness. All but blind, they have a hyper sense of smell—seven times stronger than that of a great white shark. Yet despite their aptitude as predator, they generally live on fish, freshwater crays, and the odd duckling. Female freshwater eels can live up to 100 years, and breed only once at the end of their lives. This is despite them having two hearts (one located in the tip of their tail). In order to breed, virgin eels leave the familiar waters of lakes and rivers and embark on a great odyssey all the way up to the subtropical Pacific Ocean.

Bodily changes take place to equip them for the journey, heads becoming smaller and bullet-shaped, with dark camouflage appearing on their backs. The eels will slither over dry land and roads to reach the estuary, and eventually the sea. Here, somewhere, they spawn en masse in very deep water, thought to be over a kilometre down. Sheathed in mystery, no one has ever witnessed an actual eel spawning taking place. Even more incredible is the journey of the baby eel as it makes its way back to New Zealand waters. How do they navigate to a lake they’ve never been? Magnetism, or magic? I like to imagine that eels have their own terrifying legends about human activities, invented to explain the rapid decline of the eel population. Habitat destruction is their foremost killer. So too are the dams installed by electricity providers—where, mid-migration, the eggladen females are sucked in and minced by turbines. Commercial fishing of eels continues at large in New Zealand as 200 tonnes of the creatures are harvested for global appetites each year. Other causes of death: people not giving a fuck. In February, hundreds of eels were left for dead in the mud, after the Hawkes Bay council dumped them during drainage work. Eels are also suspected of living in the fresh underground streams that flow beneath Wellington. So consider that every drop of paint and petrol, each butt of a smoke down the gutter, jeopardises their existence. All this talk of eels made me reflect on other things we are afraid of: How much deeper can we look into the mysterious things that cause us discomfort? Are our assumptions grounded in reality, or the myths spun by others? In which dark lakes do our misplaced fears reside?

NĀ LIAM NGARIMU TE MARO-DORAN

I'M NAKED… AND ALIVE~ TŌKU WHAKAHAHAKE I started getting fed up in my years being away from home, in this big western-orientated city, more often than I thought, with the social norm we all seem to be conforming to: which is, walking around in more than enough layers. I’d really been pushing towards finally being free and confident without a top, I couldn’t understand why it was so taboo, even the idea of walking around Wellington, even on campus alone for that matter, topless? After being racked up enough to say I would—I finally marched onto campus without a layer over my top. Don’t get it twisted, I’ve been approached several times now about me “flexing” and this perceived idea of lean = confidence = cool guy with 0 insecurities. Like, NO. WTF! I’m a very lean dude who gyms, sure. What people may not see is since kura (high school), I’ve been fresh off the border of being underweight, and I’m still mad insecure about this! The idea that I’m parading around being the only person on campus topless as a “flex” is ridiculous. I was given a couple wise cents from a wise man which should be pretty common by now, that almost any person you ask can provide AT LEAST three things on the spot about themselves that they’re insecure about. i.e. My arms look like skin and bone, you can typically make out my ribcage, and my legs are the most unnatural, lanky-looking stilts. If there is a flex I’ve had to consider—it is the flex of my privilege and freedom over our wāhine. Though it is legal for both males and females to be topless in public, I understand there is a lot more at stake socially for wāhine to exercise that freedom. I don’t mean to be insincere, I feel for you, and I yearn for a day where the freedom is shared, equal, and expressed!

I would love to make this recent “march”ing sound inspirational… But, in all honesty—I’ve been dying! I’ve never been so anxious in my life! However, as they say, “patua te whakamā!” (strike embarrassment), “tūwhitia te hopo!” (overcome overwhelm); feel the fear and do it anyway! In my family, we say “Adelante para siempre!” (onward forever). We chose our struggles and life goes on. Alas, here we are. I began this journey aiming to remove this silly veil which hides, covers, and ultimately shames our otherwise true, natural form. Removing the unnecessary barrier insulating us from our natural environment. Decolonising from the tie of the predominantly capitalist social rule these layers enforce. To desexualise, de-objectify, and normalise our natural form, while adapting to our natural environment much the same way I believe our tīpuna would have. To summarise: I’ve become sick of being controlled by this incorrectly perceived taboo, this idea, that anyone should be subject to remain uncomfortable or unable to express one’s self, or desires; being ultimately controlled by insecurities, social norms, materialism, or social anxiety! If you want to express yourself and your freedom positively, you should be free to! Like my wise friend shared with me: You deserve to pursue whatever it is you think makes you happy. If it doesn’t affect people negatively and you aren’t harming yourself or others, you should go for it! If you don’t think it’s that easy— you’ve seen me around campus; Here I am, standing in solidarity for you. Nō reira… E tipu, E rea, I ngā rā o to ao—Grow and prosper in the days of your life. Arohanui. Much love. Yours truly. Ngarimu.

UN IQ

SWAT

BROCK STOBBS

ALEX WALKER

Taboos have shaped my life and it scares me.

Sometime last year, my dad asked me why I didn’t have a girlfriend. While the answer was nothing but clear in my mind, I didn’t tell him. Instead, I just shrugged my shoulders and gave the same near-silent mumble I’ve given time and time again. I didn’t even know why I didn’t say anything. It was just instinctual.

When I was six, I remember being told that boys aren’t supposed to cry. I heard it from adults and I heard it from my friends. I heard it so many times that it became my own voice, a voice that constantly berated me for daring to show tears. So crying became taboo.

I realise now that it’s how I’ve been taught to deal with this thing I knew to be taboo—money, family affairs, and above all else, sexuality (especially the gay kind). My mum used to shush me whenever she felt I was saying too much about our family life. A lesson I picked up over time and unwittingly helped instil in my brothers.

When I was twelve, I consciously toned down my excitement when watching a television show. I remember feeling embarrassed when an outburst escaped me, as if feeling so passionately about the story was shameful. As though I had to swallow down my joys because I knew they would fizzle awkwardly into the air and show my vulnerability. So showing excitement became taboo.

I can’t remember the exact places and times I learnt that being gay was taboo. I don’t have one quaint anecdote full of insight, no dramatic inciting incident, or memorable moments.

When I was fifteen, I went to great lengths to dress in dark, nondescript clothing. My mum would ask me what colour shirt I wanted and I replied, “anything as long as it’s not colourful.” By that time, expressing myself through colour had become taboo, too.

My family and friends have never been that homophobic. Casual homophobia at best. Although saying that, someone close to me called a lousy driver a “queer cunt” like two weeks ago, so maybe I’m not the best judge of character here.

Sometimes it feels like “manhood” means staying in the middle lane. Never showing too much sorrow, never showing too much joy. Just being stoic. Cool, calm, collected. I admired that for so long. The most insidious thing about taboos is that they can trick you into thinking that it’s what you want for yourself.

It just happened. Little things here and there that built up. A comment from a friend. A bad joke from your dad. Caricatures on TV. Next thing you know, a vital part of your identity is taboo. Friends used to ask me, jokingly or otherwise (I could never tell), if I was gay and my adolescent brain immediately thought this was a trap.

I’m now 22. I dress in colourful t-shirts, I’m known for using the word “hype” more than anyone on the planet, and I’m a far happier person for it.

Everything I knew up to that point said to me that we shouldn’t be talking about this and that the only honest answer was one I shouldn’t give.

But crying still eludes me. Sometimes I try, but I can’t quite break the iron wall in my throat that prevents me from breaking down. I guess that’s a taboo I’m still working on.

So, I didn’t. I mumble-denied and moved on. Just like I did with my dad. Just like I did yesterday when I went to lunch with friends. An insidious, self-sabotaging habit I’ve learnt that no longer reflects how I feel about myself or how I want to go about my life. Breaking the pattern, however, is easier said than done.

We all face taboos as we attempt to assert who we are in this world—it’s one of the hardest journeys we ever embark on. Some taboos are valuable, but many are not. What matters is being able to figure out the difference.

V UWSA

P SC:O NE OCEAN

TAMATHA PAUL

PASIFIKA STUDENTS COUNCIL

WHAKAMĀ “Whaka-” a suffix meaning to cause something to happen “-mā” meaning white. Whakamā describes the whitening of the face when the mind and heart feel ashamed. It describes all the things, big and small, that we hide away in the darkest corners of our subconscious.

Why Mum calls my man DEGREE! “Aunty, why do you call her boyfriend ‘degree’?” “Because she went to university to get her degree and she comes back with him.” Ahhhh, relationships!! So much can be said for the NOTHING that is spoken at the Pacific family dinner table.

Pleasure. Anger. Depression. Masturbation. Anxiety. Attraction. Self-doubt. Jealousy. Family drama. Family violence. Family missing. Image issues. Lust. Failure. Pain.

If you’re a NZ-dwelling Pacific Islander with traditional parents, raised in the traditional way, chances are you haven’t had the nerve to properly discuss with your parents the topic of ‘RELATIONSHIPS’.

The ideas, beliefs, and experiences we hold that we consider to be ‘taboo’ intimately interwoven into a foundation that underpins our shame. These taniwha lie dormant, silently sabotaging self-reflection and selfgrowth.

If you’re enrolled at university, the first thing your parents expect you to have in your arms at the end of your journey is a framed accreditation, assuring your entry into a successful and well-paid career.

We all have things we won’t ever say aloud, but these are exactly the things that prevent us from being the best version of ourselves; as individuals, as a collective.

A simple reward for the immense sacrifices your parents have made to make you who you are and get you where you are.

I recently went to Wānaka for a women's empowerment conference to talk about my experiences trying to reduce sexual violence. I talked about encouraging good sex and sexual health. A few of the older ladies squirmed in their chairs, a few awkward coughs. But afterwards, some younger women came up to me and we talked about how destigmatising conversations around sex meant creating healthy and positive norms around consent and sexual autonomy.

If you’ve made it to uni single, then it’s likely that your parents expect you to finish single. Remember—many of us are likely to be the first in our families to go to university, an experience that might be unbeknownst to our parents. If you can, you SHOULD ask your parents about relationships. Your parents have a whole lived experience, and in most cases, have relationship experience that probably goes beyond your own years on earth.

I realised that a lot of my job is talking about things we “shouldn’t” talk about in public and undoing a lot of the harmful beliefs we hold in silence. Deep-rooted in shame. These are the things that hold us back. Similarly applicable to another kaupapa close to my heart—the stigma attached to experiencing poor mental health.

I am one of those girls who came home with a man instead of a degree; in doing so I had unknowingly enrolled myself into RELATIONSHIP101 lectured by my very own parents. I thought I knew just about everything regarding relationships, but listening to Mum and Dad made me realise just how much I have to learn and experience. As a result of those discussions, my relationship is thriving and blossoming; not just with my man, but also with my parents.

If we don’t get to talking about the things we feel the most ashamed about, we’ll never challenge our own assumptions. We’ll never feel comforted in the experiences we share with others. But more importantly, we’ll never find solutions to the shame that was never ours to begin with.

Talking about relationships to your parents may be outside of your comfort zone, but it is only outside of this space that we can grow and flourish with the knowledge of our parents.

‘Taboo’ stands in the way of change. Me kōrero tātou.

MAX NICHOL

Until you try them, drugs have an air of danger and mystery around them. The first time I ever smoked a joint, my entire body was shaking with nerves, convinced I was making an irreversible decision towards a life of depravity. There’s a powerful mythology around drug use, fuelled by misinformation from pop culture, mainstream scaremongering, and the hearsay of youthful boasting. People do drugs for all kinds of reasons. Most students who choose to experiment with drugs do so to have fun, or to have an intense personal experience. If you’re at a university, it’s relatively easy to source an array of substances which, in turn, provide an array of sensory experiences. Unsurprisingly, student magazines have often featured articles relating to the regulation and use of drugs—the Salient search engine produces 45 pages of results for the term “drugs”. And in 2018, ^Critic published the reflections of eight students who, between them, experimented with weed, LSD, cocaine, meth, MDMA, DMT, shrooms, and ketamine. What the hacks at Critic don’t know is that Salient beat them to the punch in 1987. Editor and VUWSA life member Grant O’Neill published a strikingly similar article, in which a group of students tried ketamine, LSD, and “New Zealand LSD” (support Kiwi manufacturers everyone). The article carried this legal disclaimer:

The promise of a herbal tea review was fulfilled a few issues later, with the more tongue-in-cheek proviso that “the Salient Editor neither confirms nor denies that herbal tea is used liberally in the Salient Office”. This kind of article was pretty subversive for its time. Our current culture of drug use stems from the 1960s, when experimentation with drugs became a part of youth counterculture, in New Zealand and elsewhere. Inherent in this establishment of drug use in opposition to the mainstream was a related conservative pushback, which meant that in the 1980s, drug use was even more taboo than it is now. As Salient explained in 1987:

The discourse around drug use has shifted a lot since then, particularly with regards to cannabis law reform, but much of the taboo around drugs remains. It seems increasingly clear that decriminalising weed is not a matter of if, but when and how. There are some legitimate reasons to be cautious about how we proceed with legislating drug use—for example, the availability of “designer weed” dispensaries would give half the population of Wellington another thing to be totally insufferable about. But fundamentally, I believe it is morally correct that our treatment of drug use be focussed on harm reduction and health. Around the world, the criminalisation of drugs has failed to actually prevent harm, and has been extremely racist in that enactment. It’s time for something different.

In April It’s been a while since we talked. I’ve been meaning to visit, but, well, you know how it is. Life gets in the way. We’ve all been as well as can be I suppose. You know, John turns 27 next month. And Kathy’s engaged. Since when did we all get so old? Time’s a funny thing. It’s a nice place out here, with the bush and the birds. Look, there’s a Tūī with his parson’s collar on, in the old Tōtara by the gate. How he sings. Autumn’s beginning to catch in the trees now, setting them aflame in all your favourite colours. It’ll be grim here in winter though. I’ll bring Alex with me, and we’ll plant some bulbs – lilies perhaps, you always liked those – the next time I visit your grave.

– Niamh Hollis-Locke

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

FASHI ON I SAY YEE, YOU SAY HAW REV IEW: NI NA W I E R

Reviews

It’s time to reclaim the cowboy boot back from the Republicans and the horse girls. Now, before you turn the page and write this off as some Carrie Underwood ”Before He Cheats” karaokeinduced hysteria, hear me out: Cowboy boots are at the top of the food chain of not one, but two huge trends. Fashion still hasn’t had its fill of ugly shoes. Nor does it look like the Depop society is planning on searching for inspiration anywhere other than 2002 any time soon, and what says mid-2000s more than thotting it up in cowboy boots— Coyote Ugly anyone?? Not only have the fashion stars aligned, the winds of pop culture are blowing through the saloon doors. The yodelling kid going viral and performing at Coachella last year paved the way for this. We may now twerk to “Old Town Road” in our denim and cowboy boots. There’s something about the calendar turning over to May that triggers this innate biological attraction to an ankle boot. But when did getting dressed have to be so boring? No other shoe has the transformative power of the cowboy boot. Physically, you can’t help but lengthen your stride, your hypothetical spurs jangling. And mentally, you’re filled with the same jaunty rebelliousness as a housewife who’s just sold her husband’s tractor and is headed to the Nashville stage. I guarantee that when you’re trying to piece together an outfit other than skinny jeans and a puffer jacket on a winter morning, you’ll feel more inspired in cowboy boots than in some Country Road sales rack Chelsea boots. If you’re still not convinced, here’s an anecdote: whenever I wear cowboy boots to Dakota, the DJ is much more co-operative when its 3:30 a.m. and I’m screaming “SHANIA” at him for the third time that night. If that isn’t a good reason to dress a certain way, I don’t know what is.

In Year 10, when the other kids were going through the scene-kid phase and getting side fringes, I went through a cowgirl phase and got a pink straw cowboy hat. And while this may have resulted in some shocking outfits and photos that can NEVER surface, I now know how to style cowboy boots. So here is the unofficial guide that Trixie Mattel herself would approve of: Level 1 - First time at the rodeo: Pick the one thing in your wardrobe that has never been worn into a small town Four Square: long silk slip? Perfect. Skinny jeans and a fitted blazer? Even better. The key is to really create a tension between your bottom and top half. Think Ashley Tisdale, mid-2000s red carpet appearance. Level 2 - I’ve listened to "5,6,7,8" by Steps while driving through Ashburton: Boots + denim + any coat that could have featured on Fargo. Corduroy, sheepskin, tan leather. Channel the boot’s strong energy into a retro 70’s look so you’ll feel less inclined to use y’all in conversation that day. Level 3 - In all ways except physical I am Mary J. Blige in a cowboy hat: A white tee, denim, cowboy boots, and a red lip is such a timeless and stunning combination. Combine that with feminism nuances and you’ve got the reason why Thelma and Louise is still just as poignant now as when it came out 30 years ago. Take this look from day to night with a pair of cutoffs, and go full trailer park temptress. Jolene is shaking.

A RT KATH Y B A R RY ' S ER AS I N G CO DE W OR L DS REV I E W: M AYA N E U PA N E

If you choose to keep your mind closed while looking at this exhibition, you might think it nothing more than a paint.jpeg scribble created by the not-so-careful use of the paint bucket tool to fill in the cracks created in the computer canvas using the straight line tool. But opening yourself to the possibilities of this exhibition will yield so much more.

Here's the thing you have to know about abstract art: It's not as scary as it seems, and it's not useless, either. Think about your favourite piece of classical music. You don't know why you like it. You just do. It makes you feel something. It makes you think. That's it. Barry’s exhibition has so much backstory to it. It’s all so interesting too. She explains it better than I could ever hope to. Spirituality, maths, science, and alternative dimensions— all in one piece of art. If that doesn’t excite you with its many contradictions, I’m unsure what will.

Maybe you'll feel the first satisfying crunch of a crisp apple, or maybe it’ll feel like a knife slicing through raw mushrooms. It could sting like lemon juice or sing out like an Andrew Bird instrumental. It might just give you a curious new appreciation for the colour of a tenderly applied turquoise. The colours are like velvet and the lines are like beams of light. Some paintings fly at you like renegade sparrows. Some pull you in with cascading staircases leaning like shoddily cherished house plant jungles. The contrasting optical illusion of flatness and depth dance around each other creating endless interpretations.

Kathy Barry's art makes you think. It's an expressive, everchanging collision of colour. It's not just loud and intentional—the contrasting elements of the technique used make it so much more than that. Sharp edges on patchy blotted watercolour colours. It makes me wonder how anyone could see art and the "serious subjects" of science and maths as diametric concepts. It's so good that what it isn't becomes almost as good as what it is. I'm talking addled audience expectation. The depth of the paintings appear to shift depending on the angle you're standing at. The colours feel new to you. Empty sections drag you in while the relationship between the lines tease you with hidden horizons. These paintings are stories from the other side of the camera. The artist's process is tracked through the produced image. She pulls your gaze around the canvas, twisting and turning you with rapid darting movement.

So, shout out to Bowen Galleries for bringing all this possibility into our lives. I still have so many things that I want to compare Barry’s art to: Māori flax weaving and cartoon explosions. Vibrant skies through broken windows. Shards of stained glass sugar cookies on a kitchen benchtop. But it’s up to you. Regardless of where these geometric cyclones blow you away to, I wish you safe travels. At one moment I found myself in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. That was something. These soft pencil lines against deep hues of colour are your (environmentally friendly) vehicle to somewhere else. They’re not so overwhelmingly dense that they suffocate, yet complex enough to immerse. Like pools of mythological sirens, they beckon to you and drag you down far under the surface. You step back, blink, and see them again as line graphs drawn upon Warehouse Stationery maths paper with the yellowing corner tape marks of forgotten photographs. This is one exhibition definitely worth giving a chance to.

Reviews

Do y'all remember the shower scene in Psycho? And the sound that made it famous? Remember the violin slashing through the silence? My favourite thing to do when looking at abstract art is to stand there and try and hear it. And believe me, Kathy Barry's Erasing code worlds, currently showing at Bowen Galleries, is a sight worth hearing.

BOOK TH E UNW OM A NLY FAC E O F WA R O UT OF TH E W RE C K AG E

Reviews

REVI E W: L I B E R T Y S OAN E S

Over the summer, I read both The Unwomanly Face of War written by Svetlana Alexievich and Out of the Wreckage by George Monbiot. The former is a series of interviews with women who fought in Soviet Russia during World War II, providing insight to some of the horror of that time. The latter is a comprehensive narrative that provides an account of the political state of the West as it is now, and ways of moving forward. Alexievich’s work carved out spaces in my brain for a new layer of empathy. It is difficult, in times such as the one we live in, to keep up with our feelings. When we hear distressing or traumatic news, it is too common to feel guilty for not feeling worse upon hearing it. But realistically, we are desensitised and disenfranchised; there is nothing we feel we can do to help and so we fall silent and docile.

strength. To allow yourself to fall in love with others, to love your children without condition, to care for people you walk past, all take so much strength in a world where we experience so much pain. Turning through the pages of the experiences of over 200 Soviet women who fought or served in WWII is, to say the very least, an overwhelming reading experience. Censored by previous Russian governments for contravening state records of history, Alexievich appears to have brought truth bubbling to the surface. Women seemed to spit the words at her sometimes, desperate to be heard. After years of a single, primarily androcentric account of history being put forward, this book is, by comparison, a cold snap. A wake up call. It reminds us that those who control the dominant narratives of history control who is welcome to be part of (or excluded from) that history.

It seems to be common discourse that having empathy for others who are suffering is a waste of energy and time. Particularly if they're far away from you. I’d like to argue that reading something such as Alexievich’s haunting, harrowing, and deeply touching polyphony is the way to a better future for ourselves. Monbiot asserts stories are how we connect; it is through narratives that we understand other people. It is human to crave the patterns inherent within storytelling. How are we to understand the devastation of modern times without the stories from the mouths of the people who lived through them?

These two thinkers and writers contributed to a shift in mentality for myself over the summer, offering revitalisation of care and compassion for those around me. The revival of the truly intrinsic and human desperation to help people both politically and personally. I could not have survived one day of what those women went through as snipers, nurses, and engineers. The sadness and shock I felt at reading The Unwomanly Face of War was tended to by Monbiot’s message of common purpose: the thing that distinguishes humans from other species is our fundamental ability to empathise.

I have learned this from Monbiot: Before humans are brutish, they are kind. He believes that we are conditioned into hatred, not born with it. Monbiot also believes that only through deep thought and kindness in our approaches to life, with intrinsic values of benevolence and altruism, will we be able to pull ourselves out of the seemingly dark times we currently exist in. I agree with him. I don’t think it is fair in any capacity to call sensitive people weak. To be sensitive in this world is the greatest

T ELEVI SI O N NEW Z E A L A ND’S FO R G OT T E N G E MS REVIE W: M ONT Y SA N S O M

The Killian Curse This kidult horror show from 2006 tells the stories of twenty-one students in Room 21 who each face a personalised horror because of Charles Killian’s curse. Killian wants to claim 11 souls from the children in the class to return from the grave and take revenge on the people who caused his demise after he founded the school. The show ran for two seasons with three stories per episode, which is not only convenient for broadcasting one story per ad break, but allows for very concise, spooky storytelling that doesn’t feel drawn out. The CGI and costumes hold up pretty well and maintain their terrifying nature. The class of child actors are decent across the board, and they each get a chance to shine in their individual episode. Due to the seven-minute time frame, some stories have massive leaps in logic or are wrapped up via deus ex machina. I highly recommend watching this series with VHS grain at Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision. Amazing Extraordinary Friends

The show borrows heavily comic book design. There are comic book panels in the intro, and location text boxes following a wipe, mimicking comic book pages being turned. While the show looks stylish, the substance isn’t as clear. The show targets a younger demographic, setting a leisurely pace. As a result, it relies heavily on slapstick comedy, especially during fight scenes, which doesn’t translate well into live action. And while the CGI is noticeably bad, the show’s high production design makes up for it through costumes, sets, and acting (even if it is campy as hell). If you manage to stick with the show for its three-season run, you’ll find its various archetypes have some meaningful growth, even if it’s still a kid show at heart. Radiradirah Radiradirah was a comedy sketch show created by Oscar Kightley and Elizabeth Mitchell which starred several A-list NZ comedians including Jemaine Clement, Madeleine Sami, Rhys Darby, David Fane, Teuila Blakely, and Taika Waititi. With all of its potential, it was surprising to see the show have such a short run. With a delightful pilot featuring claymation farm animals talking shit about the sheepdog, an infamous ‘beached az’ whale and a live action alien bent on world domination, it was a staple in TV3’s comedy lineup. However, over the course of the ‘season’ the material slowly devolved to become stale. Despite the stunning variety in the presentation of the sketches, it couldn’t pull the viewings to justify its stay. It’s no surprise that not even the archive had this one on their shelves.

Reviews

Forget Justice League and Avengers, Amazing Extraordinary Friends (2006) was the main superhero show of my childhood, even if it doesn’t hold up a decade later. The AEF follows nerdy Kiwi high school student Ben Wilson, who discovers a mysterious insignia that bestows him with the powers of Captain Extraordinary. Teaming up with other ‘heroes’ such as the Green Termite, Nightlight, and Wired, they band together against Renfield and the Nemesis Corporation… stealing insignia… end of the world… you’ve heard it all before.

FILM US

Reviews

REV I E W: M ONT Y S AN S O M

In 1986, a little girl encounters her doppelgänger in a hall of mirrors. Terrified, she runs back to her parents who find her unable to speak. In the present day, the now-adult Adelaide Thomas (Lupita Nyong’o) returns to Santa Cruz, the home of her greatest trauma, along with her husband Duke and children Zora and Jason. Over the course of their holiday weekend, Adelaide becomes increasingly manic and eventually confesses her doppelgänger experience to Duke. That night, a family of four doppelgängers (played by the same cast) arrive outside their beach house and prove that, contrary to the words of Sartre, hell is not other people, it is us.

Even through my terror, one thought stuck in my mind as I watched Us: “This movie has style.” The film begins with a closeup on the red eyes of a white rabbit, followed by a glorious, receding, slow zoom revealing a wall of individually caged rabbits. The Tethered, none of whom have eyebrows, wear a uniform of pressed red jumpsuits, singular leather gloves, and gleaming golden scissors. Every choice is deliberate, every single shot is designed to perfection. Underlying it all is Get Out composer Michael Abels’ electrifying, terrifying score. Biggest props go to choreographer Madeline Hollander, who took inspiration from Pac-Man and cockroaches during the four months she spent working with cast members to design the doppelgängers’ unique movements.

Of the doppelgängers, Adelaide’s double, Red, is the only one that can speak (quick shout-out to Lupita for brilliantly portraying the two main characters). The rest communicate in a language of guttural cries and wails. Red tells the story of the ‘Tethered’; genetic doubles of the US population created in a government bid to control the public. When the experiment was unsuccessful, the Tethered were left underground to eat raw rabbit and mimic the movements of their above-ground counterparts. It was Red who organised their escape, equipping each doppelgänger with a pair of golden scissors to stage what she calls “the Untethering”—the separation of doppelgängers à la Harry Potter’s “neither can live while the other survives” philosophy.

The central idea behind the movement was reflections: the Tethered reflect the movements and actions of the Un-Tethered, as though the humans above ground have magnets on their feet, and each Tether is bound to their original. This demonstrates one of the central themes of the film: the devastating effect that the actions of the upper class have on the unseen lower classes. This is perhaps best illustrated by Adelaide’s son Jason and his doppelgänger, Pluto. Jason, an anxious child, hides his face behind a monster mask and plays with fire. Pluto wears a white, skin-tight gimp mask, which is later revealed to covers years of severe burns and facial scarring—a result of Jason’s aboveground pyromania.

As with Jordan Peele’s debut Get Out, Us is rife with symbolism. Mirror images are everywhere. A digital clock recalls an earlier glimpse of an apocalyptic warning sign (Jeremiah 11:11), rabbit ears mirror golden scissors, alluding to the use of “Run, Rabbit, Run” in Get Out. Us is a feast of metaphors for Reddit theorists. How long has Jordan Peele been planning Us? Do Us and Get Out take place in the same universe? Why is Jordan Peele so afraid of rabbits? As a film reviewer, it’s my job to ask the real questions.

Although I didn’t enjoy Us as much as Get Out (I found the plot to be looser and more predictable), there’s no doubt that Jordan Peele has now cemented himself as one of the greatest horror directors of our time. I hate horror movies. I am afraid of everything. Us is considerably scarier than Get Out, but I enjoyed it nevertheless for its style, humour, and clever symbolism. I would definitely recommend Us for fans of modern horror and horror-comedy.

FOOD TO P FI VE P I C KS REVI E W: FAT T TA B

1. $1 hot wings from the Crab Shack between 3–6 p.m. | 5 Queens Wharf, Wellington Wing it Wednesday with this saucy deal. They’re called ‘hot wings’. I’m pretty bad when it comes to spice, yet I still love these. They come with red pepper and blue cheese sauce, MMMM MMMMM. At just $1 a pop, you can get an easy ten (or 20) for an arvo snack or an early dinner. The only negative with this deal is that the menu is so good that once you've popped in for a snack, you'll end up wanting to order more (their crab and clam fettuccine is truly to die for and their burgers are pretty juicy too). 2. Any two whole pizzas for $40 from Tommy Millions after 4 p.m. | All Stores! Okay so technically this is not a ‘Wednesday deal’ because this deal is available from Sunday to Thursday after 4 p.m., but I really wanted to highlight it, and Wednesday seemed to be a good day to do so (student night, hump day rah rah). Take a break from hall food (if you can even call it food) and treat yo' self! Two large pizzas would easily feed four; they say 2–3 people per pizza on their website but you don’t want to sell yourselves short. Plus, leftovers are life. My favourite flavours are the humble margarita, the four cheese (drool) and the mushroom. 3. $5 Waffle of the week from The Little Waffle Shop | 53 Courtenay Place, Te Aro Having the sweet tooth that I do, I could not do this write-up without including my favourite hole-in-the-wall. Crispy on the outside, and fluffy within, these waffles are always winners. So many choices to choose from, but on Wednesdays, you can get the Waffle of the Week for only $5. You can always find out what the weekly steal is on their Instagram or Facebook.

Juniper is a relatively new spot with over 25 different kinds of gin. Fun fact: Juniper berries are the vital ingredient of gin. But this post isn’t to rave about their gin—I’m taking you to their $5 bubbles!! GET. YOURSELF. THERE. What better way to start your Wednesday, than with a glass of bubbly in your hand? Juniper also has 50+ cocktails, so if bubbles aren't your thing, you'll be sure to find something that is. 5. 241 cocktails all night long from Chow | Level 1, 45 Tory Street, Te Aro You simply cannot beat two-for-one cocktails on a Wednesday (or Saturday) night at Chow. With such an energetic atmosphere and a huge variety of drinks to choose from, you just can’t go wrong. Cocktails are generally around the $16 mark, but the two-for-one offer makes Chow the perfect place for students to enjoy one of five celebratory drinks. They also have a great range of tapas and bigger meals—something to suit all occasions. Their edamame is my personal fave. Other recommendations include: mussel fritters, blue cheese wontons (if you know, you know), and the yellow curry.

Reviews

4. $5 French bubbles at Juniper Gin Bar & Restaurant | 142 Featherston Street, Wellington

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H IG H LY ACCURATE READIN GS FRO M T HE S TARS ABO V E

ARIES

LIBRA

Quite frankly, you’ve been an asshole. Or negligent to say the least. Make amends with chocolate and Frank Ocean.

Life isn’t running like you want it to. Do something you’ve been afraid to do. Get that tattoo. Rock that armpit hair. Ask that person out for a beer. You’ll feel empowered and in control.

TAURUS

SCORPIO

You’re feeling confident af. You’re wanting to break out of your shell and stir some shit during your discussion papers. Play devil’s advocate all you want—but please, avoid topics like paedophilia without exceptional preparation.

Capitalism has totally fucked with your worldview. You’re feeling like you need to be productive all of the time, but too much control can ruin a good thing. Fuck your savings; buy everyone a pint.

GEMINI

SAGITTARIUS You know that question that’s been on your mind? Now is the time. Dig deep—but be prepared to be questioned in return. Luck is coming your way this week; revel in it and give thanks.

People will gravitate toward your positive attitude this week. Don’t reveal all of your cards at once. People are selfish. You are selfish. Remember a little thing called “intent” as you rise each day.

CANCER

CAPRICORN

You’re busy trying to map out your life. You get off on all the “what if”s. Try not to get so caught up in the future. You’ve got responsibilities and people that need your attention now, ya ding dong.

You’d rather be anywhere but here, but you’ll be rewarded for playing the hand you’re dealt. Keep an ear out for backstories; you’ll appreciate the context. If you get offered a shift at work this weekend, take it.

AQUARIUS

LEO

We think we’re the centre of it all, don’t we? When something bad happens we ask, “Why is this happening to me?” Maybe change your perspective: it’s not happening to you; it’s simply happening. Look up determinism.

As of late, you’re uncertain. You want proof that you’re where you need to be. Not knowing is fine. Leave a little room for mystery (and the holy ghost).

PISCES

VIRGO

Pay your mate back.

Get off your fucking phone. You’ve been on a consumption bender and you’re nowhere near full. Take a walk, ride a bus, roll around on the carpet. Feel the world around you without your phone in reach.

GUESS THAT DAD BOD

CROSSWORD: NAMING RIGHTS

LAST WEEKâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S BOD: FRASER ANNING ACROSS

DOWN

1. Musician who sang with the Doors, in 'L.A. Woman', about Mr. Mojo Risin' (3,8) 6. Conclusion of an addition (3) 8. With 24-Across, graphic novelist who named his 'Ghost World' protagonist Enid Coleslaw (6,6) 9. Disneyland transportation (8) 11. 'Nowhere2go' rapper Sweatshirt (4) 13. Work on one's biceps at the gym, perhaps (10) 15. Author who named a playwright in 'Lolita' Vivian Darkbloom (8,7) 18. Sia hit whose video features a dancing child (10) 19. Washing machine's final cycle (4) 23. Another name for a turtle (8) 24. See 8-Across 25. Poorly lit (3) 26. Macabre children's author who wrote smut under the pseudonym Ogdred Weary (6,5)

1. Author Picoult (5) 2. Secondary degree focus (5) 3. Ended; above (4) 4. Called the front seat of the car (10) 5. What some diner lights are made out of (4,4) 6. Feeling bad about being on the ocean (7) 7. Type of cocktail that gets lit on fire - and usually ends the pub crawl (7) 10. What some photography drones get (6,4) 12. Entirely (3) 14. Small aviary (8) 15. Left the building (most likely a motel room) (7) 16. What the answers to 1-Across, 8-Across, 15-Across and 26-Across all did to get the names referenced in the clues (7) 17. Parisian agreement (3) 20. With 22-Down, it might be protected by a surge protector (5,4) 21. Disturbing or disgusting (5) 22. See 20-Down

LAST WEEK'S SOLUTION

A SUDOKU A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY

EASY PEASY

F*CK YA LIFE UP

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