Verse Magazine | Issue 1

Edition 1 | October 2014

Inside The Wrath & Greed Issue The wrath of a sales assistant // When road rage takes over A night in Barcelona // The socially anxious student

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Edition 1 | October 2014

contact@versemag.com.au www.versemag.com.au Head Editor Georgina Vivian Sub-Editor Divya Balakumar Web Editor Ben Allison Graphic Designer Prerna Ashok Contributors: Lia Lawrie, Victoria Fielding, Stephen McCallum, Ahmad Hakim, Rachael Hakim, Kayla Paradiso, Jeremy Rochow, Maddie Ramsey, Robyn Wood, Danae Gordon, Chloe Svaikauskas, Laura Antoniazzi, Peter Palmato, Johnathan Wah, Lauren Crago, Melina Scarfo, Melissa Donato, Sebastian Moore, Alex Graham, Eloise Holoubek Printer Newstyle Special thanks to Palace Nova Cinemas The views expressed in this magazine are not necessarily representative of the views of USASA or the editors.

All images, unless otherwise stated, by Prerna Ashok.

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Letter from the Editor What to expect from the new look Verse Magazine Like finding a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, or receiving an invitation to the party of the coolest kid in your grade, feel those butterflies hitting all the walls of your stomach because we’re inviting you to the wonderful new world of Verse Magazine! While we may not have everlasting gobstoppers or red cups and beer pong to offer you, we do have a delicious concoction of words, artwork and puns galore.

The revamp of the magazine began with a renaming competition which was won by Clare Axford. Clare, you’ll be receiving your $200 Myer voucher shortly. Buy yourself something pretty. We’ve got a sweet new logo, we’re moving on from the days of stapled, flimsy paper, and we now have a thicker stock and a pretty little spine. Who doesn’t love a magazine that can stand up for itself?

As we continue with the theme of The Seven Deadly Sins, this issue is packed full of wrathful and greedy submissions from a vast array of students. Victoria shares her rage about the deregulation of university fees, Kayla tells us to give narcissists the flick, Maddie makes us salivate over one of the many burger joints popping up around Adelaide, and Ben reveals his Mr Hyde side which appears when he gets behind the wheel of a car. There’s a whole load more too, so get comfy and start reading.

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The next issue will be the last from Divya, Prerna, Ben and myself. Don’t cry too hard. Instead, put those tissues to better use and write to us on them (or, you know, just send an email like a normal person). If you’d like to be part of the Verse Magazine editing team next year, send an email to the address below, telling us why you’d like to be part of the team and what you can contribute, and attach an example of your writing. We’re hoping to assemble a team pretty soon so you can help us put together the next issue and be off and running when you’re let loose in the paddock (or less green magazine office) next year. Hope to hear from y’all soon!

Enjoy Verse. It’s yours. Keep it warm, find it friends on your bookshelf, rip it to shreds and use it to line the bottom of your rabbit’s cage. I shouldn’t tell you what to do with it, but I will tell you to send us bits of your imagination. If you’d like to contribute to the next issue, themed ‘Pride’, send your stories, poems, articles to contact@versemagazine.com.au

by Friday, 3 October.

Til the next Verse,

Georgina Vivian | Head Editor

Contents Edition 1 | October 2014 Would you part with your left kidney? 5 Outraged about higher education fee increases? 8 Want justice? 10 This is an opinion piece 12 The greed of customers vs. The wrath of sales assistants 14 Dealing with the narcissist 18 Wrath: Road rage takes over 22 The wrath caused by one punch 26 The last four minutes 30 Not gourmet, but smarter 34 Reconciliation at UniSA 36 Joining the dots on the UniSA sustainability commitment 38 The socially anxious student 40 Magill @ twilight 42 A night in Barcelona 44 Hong Kong: A peek into Peter Palmato’s diary 46 Fowler’s Live Music Awards: Looking into your own backyard 52 Imag[in]e 54 Film reviews 61

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The 2014 ‘My Story’ Competition is open to current international students studying at UniSA. Tell us about your experiences as an international student in Adelaide, in the form of a short story (no word limit) or a photograph. Entries will be judged on the following criteria: creativity, originality, relevance to students, clarity of expression, spelling and grammar. All entries must be in English.

Winning entries will be published in Verse Magazine.

1st Prize Story Category: iPad Mini 2nd Prize Story Category: $100 Coles Myer Voucher 1st Prize Photography Category: $100 Coles Myer Voucher Entries close Friday 3rd October. Submissions via email to contact@versemag.com.au.

Use “My Story” in the subject line. Stories must be submitted as word documents and photography submissions as high resolution jpeg files.

Would you part with your left kidney?

Words and image Lia Lawrie

An investigation into higher education funding and reforms Hey all, I’m Lia, and I am the elected 2014/15 President of the University of South Australia Student Association (USASA) —your association. When I was a candidate at this year’s election, I ran on a platform that prioritised being a voice against the proposed education reforms—to be a voice for equitable education.

Now, let it be clear, I’m not exactly doing a spiel on education policy for ‘funzies’. Nor are the Federal Education Minister and the Federal Government exactly asking students for their left kidney. But, this is an issue university students need to know about. Once again, this is an issue you need to know about.

funding, it’s because they no longer want to invest as strongly in their own people. They would rather promote an individual’s responsibility as opposed to providing structures that support individuals. This shifting responsibility in numbers looks like a reduced contribution of Commonwealth Supported Places by an average of 20 per cent, or $2 120 every year. This means university students, you, are footing that bill. And this is just the average. Cuts can vary depending on the area of study.

When the government wants to cut university funding, it’s because they no longer want to invest in their own people

UniSA is the South Australian university that is all about giving people a fair go. And fun fact: that is why approximately 40 per cent of students at UniSA are those with a background of lower social economic standing.

This university provides an opportunity for people to gain the skills and knowledge to change their life and to better themselves—an opportunity that will not be as accessible should the current tertiary education policy be reformed.

For example:

The three most damaging facets that are being put forward as part of the Government’s reform are:

• For medicine and agriculture students, a cut of $3 206 p/a (15%).

1) Cuts to university funding

‘But what about HECS? That’s still there. People can still defer their repayments and pay them back when they get a job.’

2) Deregulation of student fees 3) Applying interest to HECS debts Cuts to university funding are bad because, as everyone knows, education is a wise investment for a country. So when the government says that they want to cut university

• For engineering students, a cut of $4 717 p/a (28%).

• For social studies students, a cut of $3 566 p/a (37%).

HECS will still be there. Students will still be able to defer their fees, and the reduced contribution means they’ll just have to pay a few thousand more. But wait, we still have to talk about deregulation. Currently, the university fee structure is regulated.

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This means that I can study social work at UniSA, the University of Queensland or the University of Sydney and will always pay the same price for that course, regardless of the university’s prestige.

Deregulation means a university can charge whatever it wants. So a social work degree can cost $25,000 at UniSA, $50,000 at the University of Queensland or $65,000 at the University of Sydney. This is a shame because people should always be given the opportunity to study at a public Australian university based on their own merit, and not by how much they can afford. With this reform, which stimulates competition between universities, fees will increase exponentially and students will be the ones to suffer.

because they are protesting for equity. They are protesting for accessible education so that people can have the opportunity to change their lives.

How can you help?

Lobby the key independents in the senate. Write, call, tweet, etc. and tell the Palmer United Party or Senator Nick Xenophon that you are against education reform.

Be a part of community events. There is a National Day of Action that everyone is invited to attend on October 16th.

My spiel is done, and I hope you can take something from it. xoxo Lia Lawrie

• A medical degree which currently costs about $60,000 will cost up to $200,000.

USASA President

• Law degrees will increase from $50,000 to as much as $125,000.

Editor’s note: For more information on the National Day of Action, search ‘National Day of Action’ on Facebook and look for an event near you.

• Engineering from $34 000 to as much as $115 000.

• Accounting from $30 000 to as much as $90 000.

‘But we can still pay it off after we graduate.’

Sure, you can still pay off your accumulated HECS debt, but in addition to the indexation on your already accumulated fee, you will still have to pay more in tax, an interest capped at 6 per cent. These changes, if passed through the senate, will come into effect from June 2016. Yeeeeeah, university just got more expensive. And the fun part is that the current Federal Education Minister went to university for free.

These changes are cruel, and if the senate accepts this reform package, you’ll see the Australian education system shift into one of the US. But students and other members of the community agree that this isn’t the higher education system for this country. Some of the student rallies you’ve seen throughout the year have been a national effort instigated by the National Union of Students to have the student voice heard. To date, the National Union of Students have organised three national days of action against the proposed reform. On any National Day of Action, thousands of students across the country will march, protest and chant ‘NO CUTS, NO FEES, NO CORPORATE UNIVERSITIES!’

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Outraged about higher education fee increases?

Victoria Fielding It has been fantastic to see so many university students across the country protesting against the Abbott government’s policies to deregulate university fees and to charge an interest on fee loans. Given this generation of young people are often criticised for their ‘slacktivism’, where a ‘like’ on a Facebook page was all the effort we made to show we felt strongly about a cause, I’m sure it’s the first time many students have ever protested in the streets. For some, it might even be the first time they’ve given much thought to politics, now that there is a policy that is so obviously going to have a detrimental effect on their future debt, and reduce affordability of higher education for young people.

It’s natural that we pay attention when we are the ones paying the price for an unfair decision by the government.

However, what I would like to see is more awareness of not just how these higher education policies are going to negatively impact on individuals in the current and future generations of students, but also more awareness, and the accompanying shock and outrage, at what reduced access to higher education does to an entire community—a community we are all members of.

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We have the perfect case study for what will happen to the number of young people going to university if the Abbott government gets their deregulated fee policy through the Senate. According to research, when the UK government increased university fees, 1 in 20 of the students who were expected to go to university did not apply. Some university students might say that they would be happy to see fewer of their contemporaries sharing the experience of a university education with them so as to reduce the competition for professional jobs after graduation. However, this is a short-sighted and naïve view. Because it is the very existence of millions of highly qualified, well educated people in our community that makes Australia a first world country. It is our smarts that makes us able to compete in a globalised economy. It is our propensity to innovate and to create new solutions and new products in old, developing and brand new industries that enables Australians to apply for well paid, enjoyable and intellectually stimulating employment. It is also well educated Australians who often go on to create jobs through entrepreneurial ventures that require people to take an educated risk to try something new. It is the highly educated workforce that enables Australian families to live the lifestyles

that we enjoy, and the more educated people we surround ourselves with, the better those lifestyles will be, for all of us.

I can understand if you’re a bit confused at this point. So let me put it simply. I’m asking us to all be outraged about the Abbott government’s higher education policies, not just because they’re going to hurt students in the short term, but because Australia will be a less educated community in the future if these policies are implemented. So, I’m asking us all to be outraged for each other, for ourselves and for our community, all at the same time.

This generation of young people are often criticised for their ‘slacktivism’ Think about it this way. Imagine in 10 or 20 years after you graduate, you decide you would like to start your own business in your field of professional expertise. For your business to survive and thrive, you need to be surrounded by a community, well-resourced to support your business. For example, you might be an architect and you decide to start your own design firm. The first and most important ingredient for a successful business is clients. Ideally, the South Australian

community will provide enough consumers of architectural services who can afford, through their employment in well paid jobs, to hire your firm to design new homes or renovations. Or the South Australian economy will provide enough businesses that can afford to invest in new buildings and developments that need your design expertise.

A community and an economy without customers for an architect would not be a good place to start an architectural business.

Once your business is up and running, you might get so busy that you need staff to help you. But what if there aren’t enough graduates of architecture degrees for you to find the staff you need? Every industry needs a steady flow of professional graduates to sustain its growth, especially in an aging population like Australia’s where the Baby Boomer generation is reaching the age of retirement.

Federal Education Minister Christopher Pyne justifies his proposed higher education funding policies by arguing, ‘higher education will typically be the best investment a person will ever make in their own future’. This is only one side of the coin, and the side that most young people are clearly, and rightfully, outraged about. But we should also be outraged by the other side. And that is that higher education is not just an investment by a person in their own future. It’s an investment by a person, and a government, in the future prosperity of Australia. So let’s protest about that!

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Want justice?

Stephen McCallum | Photography Ahmad Hakim

Stephen McCallum is a former President of the University of South Australia Student Association and National Environment Officer of the National Union of Students.

He is currently studying a Bachelor of Arts here at UniSA, majoring in Indigenous Culture and Australia Society.

Australia was founded on the basis of ‘terra nullius’, which essentially means there were no people here before us.

The issue with this is that there were people living in Australia before 1788, and this had been the case for well over 60,000 years prior to 1788.

Under British and International law around the time of 1788, there were three ways to claim land. If there were people living on the land, they could declare war and occupy the land or negotiate a treaty with the current custodians in exchange for the land. If there were no people living in the area, they could simply claim the unclaimed land.

The colonies of mainland Australia did not legitimately claim land, as there were people here before they arrived and they did not declare war or negotiate a treaty. Tasmania is somewhat different in that they eventually negotiated a treaty with Aboriginal Nations, but it must be pointed out

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that it was under the duress and active threats of genocide, and the treaty was not honoured by the Tasmanian government.

Some people claim that the numerous genocides that took place against Aboriginal peoples in every state of Australia are a form of war, somehow legitimising the Australian government’s claim to the land. Declaring a state of war is important because it allows for the negotiation of peace and that’s something that could distinguish war from genocide. It pays to remember that not every physical confrontation between groups is a war.

It is because of this injustice that we today enjoy using land in our comparatively comfortable lives.

It is this injustice that still negatively impacts Aboriginal peoples in Australia today.

Many Australians think of colonisation as some kind of favour for Aboriginal Nations because the British introduced Western culture and technology to make their lives easier, but the reality is much different. Australian government laws prevent Aboriginal peoples from living in the way Aboriginal peoples lived prior to colonisation, but also disadvantage Aboriginal peoples participating in Western society.

Aboriginal peoples currently have a shorter life expectancy than a black person during apartheid in South Africa.

Aboriginal infant mortality rates are more than double that of other Australians. Community workers who have volunteered in Sudan regularly describe Aboriginal communities as being in worse conditions, with poorer infrastructure and social services.

I was recently moved by an article about Murrumu Walubara Yidindji who was a well-respected journalist in the Canberra Press Gallery. Murrumu has renounced his Australian identity and now lives under the law of the Yidindji Nation of Northern Queensland. I strongly recommend you read his article published in The Guardian titled ‘The man who renounced Australia’ and engage with often ignored Aboriginal and Australian issues from an Aboriginal perspective.

Artist Chris Ackland at National Reconciliation Week held an interactive workshop for UniSA students.

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This is an opinion piece Divya Balakumar

I am fighting a war (not literally) and I’m fighting it alone.

Last Friday night, on what was indeed a magical ‘date night’ with my fiancé, I began this solo war. The night started with dinner at Pizza e Mozzarella Bar, a little Italian eatery serving wood oven pizzas—it was delightful. Under no circumstances would I, Divya Balakumar, usually ever consume an entire pizza and feel utterly guiltless thereafter.

But oh, that night, guiltlessly did I devour that entire pizza.

We decided to finish date night with a slow stroll through the city into North Adelaide when I saw (as far as my poor little eyes could see) a crowd huddled outside a building on King William Street.

‘What’s that?’ I asked Marcus, who didn’t have a clue but was equipped with better eyesight than me.

I squinted to read the signage but it was just an incandescent rectangle of white with squiggly black lines.

Relentless, I paced up and was sure by this point I was at my target heart rate.

Lo and behold, it was ‘Jamie’s Italian’.

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Before I proceed, let me clarify something, and let me say it loudly and proudly: I don’t hate Jamie Oliver. In fact, I don’t even dislike him—not even a tiny bit. I opposite-of-despise him.

I have loved watching his TV shows.

I have enjoyed watching him grab spaghetti with his big, manly hands and toss them around in a bowl, addressing the camerawoman as ‘babe’ (and convincing myself he was talking to me). I never tire of how impressed he seems by his own ability to throw things together in 15 minutes and still make it look tempting and pretty.

Granted, I may have never attempted any of his recipes, but the thing about Jamie is that he is great to watch. He makes a beautiful mess in the kitchen, and that is totally okay.

But what isn’t okay—and this is where I get irrationally feisty—is a big, franchise restaurant infiltrating the beautiful streets of innocent little Adelaide (and the bellies of our self-proclaimed foodies).

As soon as I looked into the packed restaurant (no doubt it was a VIP night of some sort), I was filled with a strange emotion, akin to betrayal—dramatic, I know.

The visuals of these laughing, aristocrat-types interspersed with the flashy décor and busy service made me cringe. I imagined the throngs of people who would be waiting with bated breath for their turn to eat here, and it hurt me.

At this juncture, you should know that I try, I really do try my very best to support solely small businesses (or at least smaller businesses). I buy only local South Australian milk, I violently oppose shopping at that big supermarket with annoying jingles (you know the one!), and I defiantly buy my fruit and veg from a dedicated fruit and veg store; I really do try.

Naturally, I started imagining the worst for little, non-franchise restaurants around Adelaide. I thought back to all the cute establishments I had been to and supported, and I worried just a little bit for their futures. I worried that these classy spaces would resort to spruikers (Lord knows how much I loathe them), no thanks to the monopoly created by franchises. Look, I know one big bad wolf can’t possibly do that much damage, but it’s like a disease, isn’t it?

You start with one, and then we grow greedy for more, and they feed into our need and — oh calamity, next thing you know, small businesses become obsolete. (Please indulge my need for dramatics.)

I fed my frustrations that night, giving in to dessert—from a small, non-franchise business on O’Connell Street that has the best hot chocolate in Adelaide, possibly the universe—and pondered my sudden quest (and slightly absurd rage).

And then it dawned on me: if there is one thing I have learned about Australia and you ‘fair dinkum’ Aussies, it’s that you love your small businesses. You love going to your local baker, your neighbourhood deli, the hairdresser around the corner; you love it all.

I know I can rest well at night knowing that I am not alone in this war on the big corporations.

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The greed of customers vs.

The wrath of sales assistants Ben Allison There’s a war out there… No, I’m not talking about Gaza or Ferguson. This war is happening every day on our very own shores. Actually, it’s happening in our very own stores.

Each and every day, an overtired and overworked sales assistant prepares to battle a greedy and demanding customer.

Like the majority of university students, I am currently in a menial retail job, paying my way through my studies.

I recently read a blog post published in the Huffington Post titled ‘Sick of bad customer service, maybe you’re a bad customer’. As a sales assistant, this post struck a chord with me and as such, I decided to address a list of common customer situations that send sales assistants into a wrathful rage.

As a sales assistant, I consider myself to be a bubbly, enthusiastic, hard-worker who strives to serve each and every customer who walks through the doors to my store with the same degree of respect, each and every time.

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But… If you walk through the doors with a level of arrogance and attitude straight off the bat, it changes the game. Suddenly we’re sworn enemies.

As a sales assistant, whenever I greet a customer with a simple ‘hello’ I generally get one of two reactions: 1) The customer screams exasperatedly, ‘JUST LOOKING’.

2) The customer pretends they don’t hear me despite the fact I’m not even standing a metre away from them, and as such, is simply blatantly ignoring me.

In defence of the customer, I understand their position.

When I shop on my days off, I become the customer, and let me tell you; there are particular brands in Rundle Mall I avoid at all costs because I can’t be bothered being locked into a meaningless dribble of small talk with the overly enthusiastic sales staff whose shrill, nasally voices seem to penetrate your whole body and send chills down your spine. I can’t publish the names of the stores for fear of a defamation case,

I can’t be bothered being locked into a meaningless dribble of small talk with the overly enthusiastic sales staff whose shrill, nasally voices seem to penetrate your whole body and send chills down your spine but I think the majority of people my age know which notorious brands I’m talking about…

Having said that, when I am presented with such a sales assistant, I still have the decency to say ‘hello’ back.

At the end of the day, I know that I will need them later in the sale to either get me a size, a different colour, or to open up a changing room. I fear pissing them off because I know the power that they hold.

I also understand that the sales assistant is forced to approach each and every customer. I realise through my own experiences that they couldn’t care less how my day is going, yet they are compelled to ask.

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At this stage in my article, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I used to work in a retail clothing store where items would often appear on the completely wrong table under a completely wrong price point.

Finally, let’s discuss the ultimate war zone: Boxing Day Sales.

It still baffles me why thousands of people flock to stores to get their grubby little hands on ridiculous sale items they would never have bought at any other time of the year.

When customers brought the item up to the counter, ready to pay for what they thought were heavily discounted items, I had the complete power to give it to them at the outrageously cheap price; however, I wasn’t compelled to do so.

Here’s the real secret: you’re being manipulated by advertising and marketing.

When a rude or arrogant customer approached me, guns ablaze, ready to battle me to death to get their item at the price it was ‘advertised’ at, I wouldn’t budge a single cent.

When a customer approached me, politely asking if the item was really only $5, I would discount it for them without hesitation.

Is that a little petty? Yes, but in my warped brain I rationalised that it taught the ruder customers a valuable lesson; you catch more flies with honey. In reality, the rude customers walked away thinking I was an asshole, having not learned any lesson whatsoever.

On that note, sales assistants hate it when customers ask for ‘extra discount’ at the sales counter or try to haggle down prices.

I’ve never heard of another retail chain that gives customers discount just for asking for it! Unless you’re buying carpet, can someone please enlighten me as to what stores actually allow this, because I will definitely start shopping there from now on.

Sales assistants also loathe it when customers tap on the window at 8:55 am, expecting the doors to swing open and a red carpet to unroll especially for them. Let’s make this clear right now: most sales assistants get paid from 9.00 am until 5.00 pm on the dot. I can tell you, they will not be impressed if you expect full and attentive service either side of that. (Also, don’t come in at 4.55 pm expecting full attention; you won’t get it.)

At my old retail job, our Boxing Day sales started weeks before Christmas. All we did on the morning of Boxing Day was change the signs to ones that read: ‘BOXING DAY BONANZA SALE’.

And do you know what? It was still the busiest day of the entire year. Thousands of people snapped up thousands and thousands of dollars of clothes that: a) they didn’t even bother to try on because there was a half hour wait for the changing rooms, and b) wasn’t even part of an exclusive Boxing Day sale.

They could have easily driven to the store the week before (when it was admittedly busier than any other time of year but nowhere near as crazy as Boxing Day) to have the actual time to try on the garments, decide if they liked them or not, and then still pay the exact same price for it.

Nevertheless, year after year, middle-aged mothers work themselves up into a frenzy, much like a bull seeing red, snapping up the ‘sale items’ left, right and centre.

I can’t understand the insanity that sets in to these salecrazed customers. It’s almost as if as soon as Christmas Day is over, all jolly and merry Christmas spirit is thrown out the window and a new sale-frenzy mindset takes over.

Two years ago on Boxing Day, I had a pair of shoes thrown at me because I wouldn’t let the customer cut to the front of the line to exchange a pair of $5 sneakers. That’s not a lie for comical effect. I literally had a pair of shoes thrown at me.

Clearly the idiot who coined the phrase ‘the customer is always right’ never worked in customer service…

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Dealing with the narcissist Kayla Paradiso

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Knowing and understanding the narcissistic personality is essential for dealing with those coworkers, friends, or family members who always put themselves first and lack empathy for those around them When you think of a narcissist, it’s more than likely that negative thoughts spring to mind. Thoughts of rudeness and those who are self-centred cling to the word ‘narcissism’ like a bad odour.

But much to the surprise of these people who are associated with such negativity, there are actually two types of narcissists.

Have you ever found yourself in a conversation with one of your friends and noticed how the topic somehow changes to them? Well this is the first type of narcissist and believe it or not, it’s actually somewhat healthy to sustain a relationship with them.

You may have recently bought a new car or booked a trip to Las Vegas, yet your friend will find a way to talk about the new foundation they bought the other day that makes their skin

look flawless. Although this may be a subtle transition from the topic (unlike the example I just gave), don’t let me confuse you—this may be more than likely the first sign of a serious narcissist on the brink of exposure.

Unfortunately, I have an acquaintance who has become a perpetrator of this arguably more serious, insensitive ‘illness’, and let me tell you, it’s far from a walk in the park. In fact, I would go as far to say that it has destroyed close bonds I have with this person, and has quite possibly changed the way in which I view the relationship we once had. This is the second type of narcissist.

is dependent on the way in which you conduct yourself around them.

Dr Lynne Namka suggests this type of narcissist believes they have the right to do whatever it takes to get short-term gratification without suffering any consequences. However, the long-term result of this behaviour can be heartbreaking for those on the receiving end.

But the question that remains with victims that have found themselves on the receiving end of narcissism is the possibility of a cure. Even if that is too much of a request, how does one control narcissism and cease to allow the behaviour that causes such grief?

This is the person who has no sympathy or care for anyone they encounter. Their emotional apparatus

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Let me tell you, narcissism is far from a quick fix. It takes time, and a lot of it, to mend the broken relationships it has taken down in its path and this time must be spent wisely. Sure, you can continue on the never-ending road of gratification to the narcissist, or you can stab it in the head before it blows up in your face. Here are ways to take control of the negativity and turn it into a positive encounter: • Avoid the narcissist at all costs. You need to realise your needs are just as valid as those of the perpetrator.

If this means you lose contact with this person for a while, then so be it.

Hey, the truth hurts.

• Don’t pour your problems onto the narcissist. If you find yourself in contact with this person, realise what you are dealing with and avoid revealing too much of yourself to them. Narcissists hardly empathise unless it’s about them. So if you’re looking for empathy, you’ve gone to the wrong person.

• Be careful what you share with a narcissist. Their motto is ‘Me First’, so be aware that they may use any shared information as a means to manipulate you.

• Although it may be difficult, show compassion for the narcissist.

Remember they have been deprived from their emotions and have low selfesteem, which can henceforth be used to bring other people down. Showing compassion does not mean you may let the narcissist walk over you; this simply

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means you acknowledge their lack of understanding and try to empathise with them.

It’s inevitable we will all find ourselves in the acquaintance of a narcissist throughout our journey of life. With social media, it’s possible we know more than one already, so for this reason, it is important we acknowledge their ‘illness’ and avoid it from jumping into our bloodstream and annoying the hell out of us.

If you find none of the above tips work when you encounter a narcissist, turn to the wise words of the penguins from Madagascar, simply ‘smile and wave boys, smile and wave,’ and don’t let the narcissist know they are annoying the hell out of you.

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Ben Allison

*Author’s note: this is a work of fiction (not really) so any admissions of ‘criminal behaviour’ should not be taken as a true admission of guilt on the author’s behalf.

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I consider myself to be a calm and patient person.

I try to shake my rage off. I turn the volume of my radio up.

I hand up all of my assignments on time, I help out with chores at home and I donate to charity (very occasionally, but it all helps out). That’s not to say that bad people don’t do these things, but I’m trying to paint a picture here.

‘Young and Beautiful’ by Lana Del Rey is playing. It’s far too calming for my current state of rage. I decide to choose a different song from my iPod.

However, the wholesome persona that I present to the world dissipates the very instant I get behind the wheel of a car.

All it takes is for someone to not use their indicator while changing lanes for a Hulk-like wrathful rage to take over my entire body.

Suddenly a torrent of expletives flows out of my mouth and there is nothing I can do to stop the profanity.

‘Oh, nice indicator, you stupid little (insert expletive of choice)!’ I scream at the top of my lungs.

I can’t help it. It’s not me, it’s the devil speaking.

I plant my foot firmly on the accelerator, speed into the next lane and overtake the Hyundai Excel that just cut me off without warning. I’m still doing the speed limit, but the Excel has slowed down after cutting me off, resulting in another torrent of four letter words.

As I pass the car, I put my best shade-face on and glare at the driver.

The 90-year-old woman doesn’t even notice.

It doesn’t matter; I feel satisfied at the fact that I’m now sitting in front of her at the red light we’ve both just stopped at.

‘Take that,’ I mutter under my breath, for no one in particular to hear.

The light turns green and I floor it, eager to leave the old spinster eating my dust.

Plot twist: at the next set of traffic lights, I slow down to stop for the red light and the old woman pulls up in the lane next to me.

Now this really aggravates me. How did she do that?

How did she catch up?

I try for something more aggressive, but my fat stub of a finger accidentally hits ‘Crazy in Love’ by Beyoncé. Don’t get me wrong, ‘Crazy in Love’ is a classic, but as the iconic opening melody starts to blare through my speakers, a degree of embarrassment falls over me and I quickly unplug my iPod and throw it to the floor.

Side note: at this stage, can I ask you, dear reader, is it illegal for me to use my iPod while driving? I know I’m not legally allowed to use my phone, although I still do (cue the collective gasp as I reveal my criminal lifestyle), but the iPod/ mp3 player situation has always been a bit of a grey area for me, although I’m sure the law strictly stipulates that I can’t use either.

The light turns green and I thank the Lord that I can continue on my journey.

I turn down the next side street, a nifty shortcut I often use.

My rage is slightly easing.

I notice in my rear-view mirror, a huge black 4WD getting closer and closer to me. Soon enough, the 4WD is obnoxiously close, penetrating the invisible driving bubble that surrounds my car.

I’m still driving at the speed limit, if not slightly over, but the 4WD behind me is practically touching my exhaust pipe.

Once again, my very own incarnation of Mr Hyde takes over my body.

‘Back off, sea hag!’ I yell.

Sometimes I like to get creative with my name-calling. It’s the little things in life that matter.

But adverse to my plea, the sea hag does not back off.

She’s so close to my car I can basically hear Triple M playing on her radio.

My foot slides over to my brake pedal and presses down gently. I’m now travelling at 20km/h under the limit just to annoy the soccer mum who sits high up behind the wheel of her Holden Captiva.

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I am very aware of the fact that two streets ago, I was literally racing a 90-year-old woman, trying to get past her at all costs, and now I’m purposefully slowing down my journey for the sole reason of aggravating the woman behind me, but logic has no place in Mr Hyde’s plan of attack.

I see her put her hands up as if to say, ‘really?!’

Success. I’ve won this battle.

She swerves to the left and then to the right, signalling that she wants to pass me, but this shortcut is a long, one-way street. She has no hope.

We finally reach the main road. I’m laughing maniacally with glee, having aggravated this woman so much so that as soon as we hit the main road, she slams on her accelerator and speeds past me.

I notice she has a ‘Baby on Board’ sign stuck to her rear window. I hate her even more. Although admittedly, it’s not as bad as a collection of ‘My Family’ stickers.

I continue along the main road peacefully, until I come across the final hurdle in my long and arduous adventure: road works.

The road works situation in South Australia is deplorable, but the majority of readers will already know that, I’m sure.

I see the dreaded speed sign with a black 25 sitting inside a red circle.

‘Oh, come on!’ I screech. The rage is back.

I slow down to 40km/h, because that’s as slow as I’m willing to go through road works. Does anyone actually slow down to 25km/h?

In reality, I wouldn’t mind driving at 25km/h if I ever noticed any road works actually being completed, but to me it just seems as if we’re all expected to slow down to watch four sweaty, larger men stand around drinking cartons of iced coffee.

No, thank you. If I wanted to watch that, I’d go for a drive to Port Adelaide. In an interesting twist, that’s exactly where I’m headed.

They’ve blocked off one of the lanes so I’m forced to merge to get through.

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I flick my indicator on so I can slip into the next lane.

The car next to me doesn’t let me in.

‘Are you serious?!’ I bellow.

‘MERGE! MERGE! MERGE!’ I’ve started chanting aggressively and instead of picking up my spirits as most chants are meant to do, I’m just getting angrier and angrier.

‘Let me in, putana!’ At this stage of my aggression, I seem to have started insulting the other drivers in a different language.

‘How often does Port Road need to be maintained?’

I’m not sure who I’m asking, but presumably it’s Jesus.

I finally get let in by a guy with dreadlocks who has makeshift P-plates up in his window.

‘About time,’ I say sarcastically with an over the top eye roll.

I finally get through the road works and I arrive home from uni.

I know that tomorrow I’m going to have to go through the same trauma, but as soon as I step out of the car and slam my door shut, the wrath leaves my body and an air of peace and tranquillity washes over me.

Think what you want of me, but I made it through the ordeal.

I’m a hero.

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The wrath caused by one punch Jeremy Rochow I’m lying on my back in the grass.

It feels cold and damp against my t-shirt; the moisture begins to seep through the fabric and onto my bare skin. The evening is clear, allowing the light from the stars to shower down on me. Any other day and I’d be enjoying what an astronomer would consider to be paradise, but right now I’m ready to explode with anger. The blood pumping through my veins is thick and hot like radiator fluid in a running car engine.

country lad, had made a big batch of his mum’s self-saucing pudding that sat on the table half-eaten next to a tub of melting ice cream.

We were bored; someone suggested a movie. Nah, it was a Saturday night — we had to do something more interesting. A drive? Where would we go? Nope, we couldn’t agree. A couple of us were even too lazy to have any input.

All of a sudden, Tim went crazy, with a flurry of punches directed at my head

I shake my head and the stars spinning around it fade into the distance. My so-called mate stands over me. ‘Are you okay?’

Tim asks. A look of concern crosses his face, but I’m furious and unleash a barrage of verbal missiles towards him. With each word, the concern is replaced by a baffled, humorous look.

After all, he was the one who landed the punch that led to my downfall.

Only a few hours earlier, we were sitting around, cracking jokes and having a few drinks. We were lounging around on the deck of our friend’s place, trying to decide how to spend our Saturday night. It was a cool autumn evening; the smell of barbeque wafted around the backyard. Shaun, a

Shaun stood up. He’s tall and has the typical country look, with defined arm muscles from years of playing footy and helping out around his parents’ property. Disappearing inside for a couple of minutes, he returned with something in his hands. Shaun grinned, showing his one rotten, black front tooth. I couldn’t make out what he was holding. He plonked the item down on the table next to the cold pudding, and only then could I tell what it was.

All of a sudden, the mood changed.

The black, leather boxing gloves caused a spell, and everybody was

jostling to get to the gloves, wanting to be the first pair to spar on the lawn downstairs from the patio. Shaun and his younger brother, Brett, quickly set up a couple of spotlights so that we could see while facing off against each other.

Tim and I were keen to fight each other first. I should’ve known it might end in catastrophe. We’re both extremely competitive no matter what the sport.

We’d play five-set tennis matches during summer until the sun set.

During winter, we would fight for the footy until we were exhausted. This was going to be no different.

We weren’t the first two to face off.

Two other guys went first, sparring for a few minutes, while the rest of us cheered from the balcony. We’d created our own rumble in the jungle.

We pretended we were the greats, Ali and Foreman, fighting fifteen rounds.

Of course none of us could’ve boxed for more than two minutes, and our technique was horrendous. There weren’t any head shots to begin with, but slowly they crept in — just a few light taps.

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Tim and I waited, growing more restless with each pair who fought.

We were going to be last. Instead, we threw verbal jabs, telling each other how we would pulverise each other with our fists. Finally, it was our time. We’d been waiting so long it felt like we were the main event.

It was to be the bout of the evening.

The other fights were just building the atmosphere and getting the crowd into a frenzy.

Another mate, Adam, slid the gloves onto my hands, giving me a piece of advice I should’ve heeded. ‘Be careful… and don’t do anything stupid,’ he advised. I just nodded and smiled stupidly. The gloves were warm and slightly sweaty from everybody else who’d fought throughout the night.

Tim walked in front of me. As we walked down the stairs and onto the grass, we jumped around as if we were middle-weight pros, shadow boxing and throwing punches at the air. I gave Tim a light jab in the kidneys. He just let out a laugh and turned to face me.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘Of course I am,’ I replied. We touched gloves like they do in the professional fights, and it began. At first we took it easy, with most of the punches being defended. The guys on the balcony cheered and clapped whenever one of us laid a punch, although most missed horrendously and did more damage to the air.

It was hard work, and within a couple of minutes both of us were puffing.

Neither of us would give up though.

We both knew that. Then I landed one directly on Tim’s forehead. He barely

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flinched; I’m not sure if it said more about his stamina or my strength. All of a sudden, Tim went crazy, with a flurry of punches directed at my head. I backed away towards the dark area on the grass. He had a look in his eyes that made me shudder. With every swing, I moved further towards the dark, and then I saw his right glove. He bent his knees and wound up. It was too late, and I felt the full strength of Tim’s fist as it collided with the right side of my face.

The force of his punch had me here, lying on my back in the garden, a little dazed and shouting abuse at one of my best mates. After what felt like an eternity, I rose to my feet, still screaming that he shouldn’t have taken it so seriously. I stepped towards him and pushed him. Somebody grabbed me. ‘Calm down. It was an accident,’ said the voice. It was Shaun.

‘I want to go again; I’ll beat the crap out of you,’ I yelled furiously, glaring at Tim. ‘No! That’s it for tonight,’ exclaimed Shaun. ‘No more fighting.’

Somebody slid the gloves off my hands, and Tim walked away shaking his head. My brain was throbbing and it felt like it was about to explode.

I can’t remember much else of that night. Tim and I are still friends—we tell the story of that night every time we catch up, and laugh at the differences in our stories. We never saw the boxing gloves again; Shaun wouldn’t let us have the rematch I wanted so badly.

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The last four minutes Divya Balakumar

They stand in a triangle facing each other. Mala looks at Raj, Raj looks at Hema, Hema looks at Mala.

It is 10.56 am. It is March the 3rd, 2015.

It is a Sunday.

They know the date all too well.

‘Four minutes,’ Raj says, breaking the silence.

Mala lets out a laugh. Worried, Raj takes a step forward, his right hand invariably reaching out to her.

‘Don’t,’ Mala says, her defensive stance in place, her 9mm pistol in hand.

‘I’ll shoot.’

Raj and Mala burst into a fit of laughter.

No one would have the faintest idea, thought Hema, rolling her eyes.

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Earlier that morning, Hema lazed in the waterless bathtub for 25 minutes.

No one spoke, no one rushed her.

The speaking had been done, their plans had been made. She tore the paper off her favourite bar of soap and held the heavy scent to her nose.

She inhaled slowly and deeply, and in that moment, the violent beating of her heart took the present away from her. She was back at the hospital in the early hours of March the 3rd, 2014, sobbing relentlessly. She watched her brother’s chest expand and collapse knowing none of this was happening organically—the tubes held him together. In between the sobs, she yelled out prayers; there was no beautiful, rhythmic and harmonious chanting, only the screams of a scarred

sister watching her brother die.

When Mala and Raj reached the hospital at noon that day, they were escorted to the morgue. Their son had been cold for hours now.

The volume of their laughter progressed, disturbing Hema’s thoughts. She looked at the clock and abruptly said, ‘Three. Three minutes.

Stop laughing’.

Raj looked at his daughter, the vulnerability of her youth obviously missing.

Before they went to bed last night, Raj knocked on her door.

‘Darling, I love you.’

‘Okay,’ she replied icily, staring at her phone. He wondered what she was reading and tried to make conversation but she didn’t flinch when he probed and Raj left with questions unanswered.

Aggression and authority had replaced it on March the 3rd, 2014, but he accepted it—he hated it, but he accepted it. ‘You weren’t there, YOU DIDN’T SEE WHAT I SAW,’ she screamed every time they fought. He was guilt-ridden, but he never argued.

She was right.

They had hugged their son goodbye at the airport and never looked back to wave just once more.

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The next day, funeral arrangements were being made.

Mala’s wails rang through his ears.

Hema’s vacant disposition haunted him.

This was a team effort, a team decision, Raj thought to himself and smiled. We will all be reunited soon.

‘I can’t wait to see him,’ he said aloud.

‘I can’t wait, Raj. Only two minutes to go,’ she smiled the gentle, maternal smile.

My boy, the thoughts trailed. My sweet, beautiful boy.

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‘Take care of Hema. Make sure she doesn’t stay out too late; please get her home safely,’ she told her son at the airport. She nagged him about his hair being too long. ‘Get it sorted before we get back, please. You’re starting to look a bit rough.’ But he wasn’t rough, he was her sweet, beautiful boy.

On the flight, she had thought about the year they were going to have. She couldn’t sleep but Raj snored next to her. She had thought about the four of them, and how life was panning out.

Hema was graduating and her boy was starting a new job soon. This is how life works, she had thought on the flight.

She was anxious about flying but her boy squeezed her hand and nodded knowingly; she only ever revealed her fears to him. ‘Everything will be fine,’ he said as she hugged him.

They stand in a triangle facing each other. Mala looks at Raj, Raj looks at Hema, Hema looks at Mala.

‘On your marks,’ Raj says as they turn away for the last time.

‘Get set,’ Mala adds as they each position their pistol.

Three guns held.

Bang; there goes one.

It is 10.59 am.

‘One minute,’ they say in unison.

They were void of emotion; every conversation and confession in the last three months had danced its way to this very moment.

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Not gourmet, but smarter Maddie Ramsey

Maddie Ramsey talks to Chuck Wagon Head Chef Ryan Stanton about the rise of the burger in Adelaide, Martha Stewart and stupid-good sandwiches.

‘We’re very happy with what we do, what we make,’ says Stanton.

‘The cuisine itself is very easy, but the volume is very hard,’ says Stanton.

We’re sitting at a corner table at Chuck Wagon, located at the northern end of O’Connell Street, surrounded by vintage film posters, graffiti and life-size statues of Captain America and Batman. The giant chalkboard wall is covered with illustrations of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and old Spiderman cartoons play on the TV, which is wired to a couple of Guitar Hero controllers hanging on the wall.

Along with the rising popularity of the burger in Adelaide, this American-style eatery has stayed ahead of the game despite a number of new competitors joining the race.

So what keeps them on top?

And no doubt. Over the past year or so, Chuck Wagon has risen to glory, so much so that they’re desperately trying to find a second location. The team can be thanked for that, as their dedication to their growing audience is evident.

‘I am not using the word “gourmet”. We’re not gourmet; we just have a smarter agenda.’

That agenda is to make true American-style dishes, using local produce when they can’t get it from the States. Classic, inventive and pop culture-inspired burgers fill the menu to the brim, along with Southern-style Buffalo wings and pizza fries, all followed by an ‘insane’ dessert menu.

Stanton’s favourite is the Polo Loco ($13), which he developed since being hired in February, and includes double-crusted chicken breast fillets dipped in Chuck’s Special Hot Sauce, with Signature Chuck Coleslaw, fresh tomato and cheddar cheese sauce on a soft, toasted, sweet bun, though he also says that Chuck’s Stuffed Sandwich ($14) is ‘stupid good’.

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Staff can remember an order off by heart and are more than accommodating, happy to have a chat about Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy when they can. And whilst he has never travelled to the States, Stanton knows exactly where to look for the right influences when coming up with his creations.

‘Blogs! I cannot stress reading enough,’ says Stanton, who turned to home cooks, Martha Stewart and a book on molecular gastronomy to develop Chuck’s signature cornbread recipe. ‘[We] want to be able to stand by each product...[and] make food people really appreciate.’

And appreciate we do, Chuck Wagon, appreciate we do.

Trading times, menus and links to social media are available at chuckwagon175.com.au.

Reconciliation at UniSA Words Rachael Hakim | Image Ahmad Hakim

A Reconciliation Action Plan (RAP) prompts the University of South Australia to take action on measurable targets for cultural change on campus.

UniSA was the first Australian university committed to the education of Indigenous Australians in 1997. The University is now implementing the plan as part of the Crossing the Horizon project, and hopes to position itself as a university of choice for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.

Dean of Indigenous Scholarship, Engagement and Research at UniSA, Professor Peter Buckskin, is pleased the University is changing its culture and the way it does business.

‘Australian universities, in the main, are about dominant cultures. This can be problematic if the post-colonial agenda does not reflect a more balanced history and experience of the First Australians. This contributes towards a strong assimilationist agenda,’ he says.

‘Today, universities have a real opportunity to ensure their graduates have a stronger understanding of Australia’s First Peoples and a commitment to social justice that sees their cultures and knowledge respected.’

‘The more I speak out about driving the RAP by the values of the First Australians, there is a risk I could be seen as the problem.’

‘Obviously, I can sit down, be passive and complacent and be more accepted. But my cultural responsibility is to build on the legacy of my Ancestors and Elders and live by my principles, my integrity and be resilient in facing adversity.’

The RAP is working towards attracting, retaining and graduating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander students, and creating a university of choice for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.

It also plans to improve the way we engage with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities, organisations and stakeholders by the end of this year.

‘As an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander graduate of the University, it is our responsibility in ensuring your culture has been respected during your academic journey and has not been devalued.’

UniSA Executive Officer to the Vice Chancellor and President, David Cox, says, ‘It’s happening already.

For example, the accounting profession has a project called Indigenous Accountants Australia, to increase the number of Indigenous accountants in Australia. We already have a good relationship with the project through our School of Commerce’.

Growing up under consequences of the policies, Professor Buckskin was denied opportunities to learn his language and culture as a citizen of the Narrunga nations.

‘We haven’t got to the stage of identifying all those organisations but it will be to our students’ advantage that we understand how they work and what they’re looking for.’

He says that being comfortable and strong about your identity, particularly when surrounded by a population telling you to be more like them, can be difficult.

Mr Cox believes that ‘engagement between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians could be much stronger,’ and hopes the plan will bring greater opportunities for understanding each other.

‘The implementation of the RAP must be informed by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders values and voices [as] opposed to voices of the dominant culture,’ he says.

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Joining the dots on the UniSA sustainability commitment Words and image Robyn Wood A new group of UniSA students, staff and alumni is forming to ask the University to show full leadership on climate change. The UniSA group is part of Fossil Free Universities, a global grassroots student network aiming to ensure there are ethical and sustainable investments at their universities.

We join students from all around the world in asking our universities to divest from fossil fuel industries which profit from polluting our atmosphere with carbon emissions.

We ask our universities to stop investing, supporting or accepting donations from companies involved in the gas, petroleum and coal industries. The team at Monash University in Melbourne has already successfully worked with their university to establish an investment advisory committee that could direct the university to stop investing in coal and gas.

UniSA already endorses a commitment to sustainability in its Vision, Mission and Values: ‘UniSA contributes to environmentally, economically, socially and culturally sustainable development, and we aim to reduce our own environmental impact.’

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‘I’m excited to be to working with my university to extend the sustainability commitment to all areas of university activities,’ said group member, Robyn Wood. ‘South Australia is particularly vulnerable to climate change with more extreme droughts and heatwaves expected. This will impact negatively on city and country people alike and be devastating for our water supply and agricultural industries. Fossil Free Universities is a great opportunity to be part of a global network working on such an important issue. It’s wonderful to be able to link my passion for the environment with the professional skills learnt at my university.’

UniSA has excellent undergraduate and research programs in the environmental sciences and many courses have a sustainability component. The group applauds the university for voluntarily committing to reducing its carbon emissions by 15% of 2007 levels by 2020-22 and would like to build further upon this.

commit to showing strong leadership in combating climate change.’

The UniSA group is looking forward to working with University management to explore opportunities and pathways to make our university Fossil Fuel Free. National coordination by climate safety group 350.org is guiding the activities of students at all Australian universities. South Australian groups have also formed at Adelaide and Flinders universities and full training is available.

New volunteers are always welcome to join the team, with opportunities to develop leadership, teamwork, writing and negotiation skills. These skills are highly valued by employers and will transfer directly to future professional careers.

To find out more about how you can be involved, please contact Robyn Wood at woodra14@gmail.com or 0423 219 096. For more information visit fossilfreeuniversities.org.au.

‘We’d like to broaden the Sustainability Commitment to focus on investments, research, industry partnerships and donations,’ said Robyn. ‘It makes sense for UniSA to further

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The socially anxious student Danae Gordon The concept of university has always frightened me. Coming out of high school, I felt perpetually afraid of what was to come. My mind was constantly brimming with worries and doubts. In retrospect, I did have exaggerated expectations about university life, basing most of my presumptions around American cinema. Consequently, I expected an extremely socially-oriented atmosphere involving plenty of drinking and partying, teamed with the occasional desperate, last-minute group study session. I now know that many of these expectations were naïve, although some still unquestionably ring true. Students in Australia also seem to thrive, at least to some extent, on socialising, drinking and partying: three things that, as a social anxiety sufferer, are terrifying to me.

Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) exists on a spectrum.

Each sufferer experiences different symptoms to different extremes, but the basic defining factor of SAD is the unrelenting fear of socialisation. Personally, my Social Anxiety Disorder manifests itself as a constant feeling of foreboding and dread whenever any sort of social situation is looming. Once said social situation is afoot, however, I’m usually fine—‘usually’ being the key word. For others, the anxiety can continue through the build-up and into the occasion itself. Either way, SAD inexorably affects the student experience.

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I used to think it was normal. Sitting up all night in bed, panicking, not wanting to sleep, not wanting the next day to come. Don’t get me wrong; I love learning. I love meeting new people and being in the company of others.

The concept of university life is very appealing to me.

Only, it’s not that SAD sufferers don’t want to socialise, it’s that they can’t—or at least, not easily.

Unfortunately, I’ve come to realise that social anxiety is a disorder that goes largely unnoticed. It’s something that affects huge numbers of students, and yet, we very seldom hear about it. This is an immense shame because SAD sufferers really need support. Sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of encouragement from a friend or loved one to get that SAD sufferer up and going in the morning. Even though it may seem like we don’t want to make friends with others, we really do. I for one will be eternally grateful for the few friends I have in my life.

I used to think it was normal.

Sitting up all night in bed, panicking, not wanting to sleep, not wanting the next day to come.

The university experience is largely based around social experiences and making friends. We sit in classes surrounded by dozens of people. We’re occasionally forced to work in groups even though it terrifies us.

We’re encouraged to attend social events, to talk to people, to ‘network’. In my experience, I’ve been called ‘rude’ and ‘boring’ by people who I’ve struggled to talk to due to SAD. I certainly never meant to come across as rude at all, and it really saddened me to know that I had made someone feel

that way. That’s why awareness needs to be raised. More people need to know what social anxiety is, or we may be doomed to be forever seen as ‘rude’ and ‘boring’.

I want all SAD sufferers at university to know that they’re not alone, and that there is help out there. Sometimes, for SAD sufferers, asking for help can be tremendously frightening—I know, I’ve experienced it myself—but in the long run, it’s more than worth it. If you’re reading this and you have social anxiety, please know that it doesn’t define you. You can get better. You can achieve everything you want to achieve; SAD isn’t always going to hold you back.

If you’re reading this and you’re not a sufferer of SAD, you may know somebody who is. You might not even realise it. The invisible nature of SAD is what makes it so unrecognised; we often suffer in silence. It’s not necessarily something that shows outwardly. Finding treatment can be hard. For many, the mere thought of revealing what we suffer from triggers massive anxiety. That’s why sufferers need help from others. A tiny bit of encouragement and support is often all we need to get through the day.

All in all, university life can be hell for social anxiety sufferers. But it doesn’t have to be that way; if we all band together to end the demonisation of mental illness and pledge to help raise awareness and build support services, we could really change things. UniSA’s own student counselling unit is a great example of the kind of support services that SAD sufferers need, but there can never be too much. Always remember: a little goes a long way.

Visit the Learning and Teaching Unit for more information on UniSA’s student counselling services.

Magill @ twilight Chloe Svaikauskas UniSA’s Magill campus played host to hundreds of high school students on Wednesday the 27th of August for the annual ‘Magill @ Twilight’ event.

Year 11 and 12 students from all over Adelaide flocked to the campus to see what the fuss was all about.

University staff and volunteers certainly put on a show for the visitors, offering a free sausage sizzle, great prizes and rockin’ music courtesy of the onsite DJ. Visiting student, Amanda, said the whole thing was great to come and be a part of.

‘It’s a lot of fun. What they’ve got set up is cool and I like it.’

The atmosphere was really relaxed and casual as prospective students made their way around to see what Magill had to offer.

Some of the students were really impressed with the campus itself and how welcoming and homey it felt.

Year 12 student, Amelia, said that the campus itself was enough to convince her to enrol for next year.

‘It seems to have a really good vibe.

I like how it’s really open,’ she said.

Fellow Year 12 student, Charlotte, said it was the outdoor atmosphere that really drew her in with all of the couches and seated areas to hang out between classes.

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Georgia said that the beautiful scenery definitely helped UniSA get a tick on her checklist.

‘For me, for a place to be somewhere I like, the view has to be really pretty so I really like it here. Everything seems really close and it doesn’t seem like you’ll get lost so that’s a plus!’

The campus even organised its own version of the classic ‘Yellow Brick Road’ game to entertain its visitors.

With $100 vouchers to spend at Kikki K and UniBooks (I could do with one of those right now!) on offer, the students were able to go around the campus, collecting stickers and other bits and pieces to add to their goody bags.

At the end of it all, they had to take a selfie with one of their gifts, and the best shot would win them one of the vouchers.

If $100 vouchers aren’t an incentive to take a shameless selfie then I don’t know what is.

But it wasn’t all about the atmosphere, great views and free stuff.

The evening offered the students a variety of opportunities to learn all they needed to know about the different courses offered at the campus.

The Caf was home to booths fully equipped with information about education, social work, psychology,

human services, history, Indigenous cultures and communication and media programs.

Each area was manned by student volunteers and some faculty members who were ready to help anyone who was interested.

Charlotte said that everyone was so great and helpful to anyone who needed it.

‘Everyone knows a lot about the place and they’ve been really friendly. The tour was really insightful and I got to know a lot of places and a lot of people...Everything seems really nice.’

The people helping around the campus were able to leave the students with a feeling of camaraderie and relief knowing that UniSA is a fun and friendly university to attend.

The volunteers themselves have said they were able to get something out of the event too, through the interaction with teachers, current students and future students.

Elizabeth, a volunteer who was helping people find their way around (which can be a task in itself given the maze-like design of the place), said volunteering can be very rewarding.

‘This is my first time volunteering and it’s actually not bad, it’s pretty cool.

You can put it on your resume as well.

I hope to get into more stuff like this.’

‘I’ve enjoyed interacting with people.

It’s a good experience to increase confidence.’

The weather was perfect, the atmosphere was wonderful and the people were so relaxed and welcoming that it made it rather hard to not have a good time.

If you, like Elizabeth, want to spruce up your resume and have some fun doing it, you too should volunteer to help out at events around the campus.

You get to meet new people, make new friends and perhaps even network with people in your chosen field.

‘Magill @ Twilight’ was such a fun event for all involved.

I was there to have a look around and ask some people their thoughts on the night and ended up staying and soaking it all in.

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A night in Laura Antoniazzi Barcelona is a diverse city in Spain, with plenty of activities available to amuse people of all ages. From those who wish to party at the biggest clubs in the world, to those who desire a quiet night by the beach sipping sangria, Barcelona is your Utopia. One can discover the golden beaches, hosted by stretches of elegant bars, each offering typical Spanish tapas and a generous span of cocktails. The soft sand is filled with rows of bikini bodies tanning in the radiant heat, as others drink Estrella beer from a can while attempting to play beach volleyball.

A 20 minute walk from the beach leads you to the Gothic Quarter, dating as far back as the Roman settlement in Barcelona. The buildings comprise of grey, eerie architecture, taking you on a historical journey along the small pebble paths and cracked stonewalls. Statues of unique figures fill the peaks of buildings as the burning sun shines behind them. This city is renowned for its beauty, thrilling architecture and extensive culture.

As night time finds the sleepless city, restaurants start to buzz, and the smell of tapas meanders into the busy streets. Soon after, thousands of mixed-aged party animals find themselves in heaven, as streets fill every night with cacophonous and enlivened people, ready for a night of drinking and dancing.

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The famous ‘Nasty Monday’, held in central Barcelona, attracts over 1 300 people every week. The smell of sweat and alcohol stain the walls of large clubs, as thousands dance to the ‘back in time’ rock and roll music. Smoke machines add to the rousing atmosphere, as the DJ turns the music louder upon request of the cheering audience.

This is only one of the many party sensations Barcelona has to offer in its wild collection of top-notch clubs and fancy bars.

Barcelona is incomplete without the traditional form of Spanish folk music and dance, the all-famous Flamenco.

Rhythmic feet tapping, expressive arms and the emotional journey the dancer invites you to share, are the qualities Flamenco is eminent for. As the females brush off their long, flowing, colourful skirts, the males shine their shoes, ready to impress the buoyant audience. The guitar starts its melody and the singer joins in when the dancers are poised and ready to excite. The seductive slow movement of the dancers tempt the audience to watch closer, as the movement is unpredictable.

Then suddenly, the guitar starts to increase its beat, the singer hurls a huge note and the performers thrash their heels loudly, tapping and sweating to the audience’s cheer.

Skirts are flowing, flowers are thrown and the audience is

encapsulated in the alluring and exhilarating atmosphere.

The night is topped off with tapas ranging from homemade meatballs, dark red Spanish sausage sourced from Extremadura, and mixed grilled vegetables. As the show closes, the audience roars, clinking their glasses of wine and sangria, ready to continue their adventure in the big city.

For those who enjoy a nice walk in the shining sun, rather than the partying scene in the mid hours of the morning, Park Güell will please. The garden is filled with architectural structures, designed by the Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí.

The buildings were built between 1900 and 1914, featuring works that are out of the ordinary. Gaudí’s inspiration was uniqueness. He defied the laws of typical architecture to create the famous sensation. Columns are sloped and uneven, houses contain colourful mosaics, roofs are bumpy and doors are curvy. The park is a fairy tale, featuring structures you have to see to believe. A walk through this tranquil garden is a fantastic way to end your adventure in Barcelona.

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Hong Kong A peek into Peter Palmato’s diary Words Peter Palmato | Photography Jon Wah The most appropriate adjective to describe this city-state in which I have resided for less than 48 hours would have to be ‘life-sustaining’. What other word can capture the tropical, sweltering climate, the omnipresent fauna and flora, the booming multi-cultural, multi-national population and the bustling, ceaseless, 24-hour culture of this region? There is greenery everywhere you look, alongside every man-made construction. Life is flourishing outside your window as soon as you open your eyes in the morning. Construction sites and old buildings may be placed haphazardly side-by-side, but one detects a perceptible sense of wellness in the urban jungle that is Hong Kong. Survival is not an obligation; it’s a certainty. It’s an art, even if the waste and pollution of our modern lifestyles have placed it under threat.

Hong Kong is thriving. I know this because as one of the 20 students fortunate enough to have been selected to enrol in the subject BUSS 2062 – Business International Study Tour, the container terminals alongside the ‘coastline’ of Hong Kong that we saw as we were driven from International Airport to Kowloon, are endless. There is no clearer sign of the relentless, commercial success of the city than this. Hong Kong is the defining city of international business, finance and trade.

So far, I see two very powerful forces at work in Hong Kong.

The first is ecological—the sheer irrepressibility of Hong Kong’s tropical, natural environment. The second is anthropogenic—Hong Kong’s whole-hearted embrace of capitalism, and its visible consequences.

As we’ve been told far too many times, patience is a virtue.

But what about efficiency? Regardless how it’s qualified, the Hong Kong-ers have it in spades: whether zipping through the city’s MTR railway system, quickly shuffling through deceptively long lines at Disneyland, or jumping in any of the plentiful taxis, Hong Kong takes you where you want to go— and fast. I am somewhat surprised, but mostly impressed by the speed at which Hong Kong’s 7.18 million citizens are able to move around this small harbour. Then again, most major world cities move faster than Adelaide, so my reaction is to be somewhat expected.

Invisible to the average Western eye, the political landscape of Hong Kong and China is changing Hong Kong’s desire to eliminate waiting leads me to question how they view this concept, and how they value time. Do the fine citizens of this region have spare time? What do they do with it? I am very hesitant to live in a city that never sleeps (I absolutely love to sleep), and Hong Kong certainly fits this description. Its people appear to be constantly on the move (voluntarily, I wonder?) and their pace is quick and, admittedly, tiresome. I find myself becoming exhausted by mid-afternoon and I want neither my career, nor my life, to follow this trajectory.

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Although perhaps invisible to the average Western eye, the political landscape of Hong Kong and China is changing, and not nearly as slowly as foreigners might think. I was curious about this rate of change and how the political aspects of Hong Kong’s booming success could influence the rest of China, so I ask the guide on our site visit to the Hong Kong Monetary Authority, and he reveals that further ‘phases’ of Chinese development could include more Special Economic Zones in underdeveloped Chinese provinces—a seemingly sensible consideration given that wealth, employment and development tend to be concentrated along coastal areas.

This would bring market-driven ideologies, benefits, lifestyles and consequences to those areas, thus perpetuating the spread of capitalism into regional China. All of this would happen, naturally, through the gate of Hong Kong, which serves as a cultural, economic, financial, political and legal link to the Western developed world. Hong Kong is the conductor through which East meets West and ideas, business, money and culture flow.

Hong Kong is a life-sustaining city. I believe, after these two weeks, that it will continue to be so, in spite of my previous reflections. I feel that Hong Kong’s future can be depicted by present-day New York City—a place with which Hong Kong has so much in common. Yes, Asia and North America possess two very, very different cultures, and thank goodness.

The world would go absolutely mad if all of us were American. But Hong Kong shares so many similarities with New York City, like the fact that they are some of the busiest, most efficient, most commercially-driven population centres on the planet, that I can’t help feel as though that’s where Hong Kong’s future lies. And it’s a good future, a bright future.

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Artwork Lauren Crago

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Fowler’s Live Music Awards: Looking into your own backyard Melina Scarfo | Images Melissa Donato Fowler’s Live is where many young music lovers experience their first dose of live music or play their first gig. The City West Campus venue has always been a promoter for all ages shows and a supporter of local live music. Now, for the third year, they are presenting the Fowler’s Live Music Awards.

After a number of years with no awards to recognise South Australian artists, the Fowler’s Live Music Awards were born in 2012. Owner and operator of Fowler’s Live, Peter Darwin, noticed this gap and created the night to recognise the diversity of original live music made right here in South Australia.

‘There are a lot of people who spend a lot of time working artistically and in the production side for live original music. It was just the case of trying to provide some recognition for new and developing artists,’ Peter said.

The awards are a combination of five publicly voted categories and 13 peer nominated categories such as Best Indie Act, Best Pop Act and Best Rock Act. About 30 industry professionals donate their time to select the winners.

Musicians and bands can now selfnominate for the first time if they meet the criteria. Solo artists or 50% of the band must reside in South Australia and have released, toured or performed live over the past year.

However, artists must be strictly independent. ‘We don’t consider acts that are signed to major labels. If it is a record label they own themselves or a small independent label, then we consider them.’

Last year’s Best Indie Act winners Bad//Dreems have gone on to gain recognition interstate and sell out shows in Adelaide and Melbourne.

Peter stresses the importance of supporting our local scene and recognising musicians’ achievements.

‘I can’t see how people don’t seem to appreciate or understand what is in their own backyard. Quite often people fail to see what’s in front of them.

If they (musicians) are able to gain recognition locally, in their home base, surely this assists on the national and international scale,’ he said.

‘If we didn’t have a venue like Fowlers that was constantly allowing under 18s in to see live music, then my belief is there would be less access and appreciation of live music,’ Peter said.

This year’s Fowler’s Live Music Awards night will be held on Thursday 13 November and is free to the public.

Expect performances from last year’s winners, a sausage sizzle and sets from DJ and Play Pause Play music blogger Luke Penman.

Self-nominations close on 29 September and public category voting opens on 1 October.

When: 13 November 2014 Where: Fowler’s Live City West Campus Entry: Free

Fowler’s Live are also a strong advocate for providing young people with live and original music. The venue is committed to providing this opportunity to under 18s.

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Eloise Holoubek

Imag[in]e

Eloise Holoubek is a Univeristy of South Australia student studying Communication (Media and Culture). Shooting mostly candid portraits she wants viewers to feel something drawn from genuine human experience. Her photographs are inspired by an attempt to understand the world and shine light on contemporary culture in the moments in which she feels most alive.

Check out more of Eloise’s work here http://cargocollective.com/eloiseholoubek If you’d like to feature your artwork in the next issue of Verse Mag send some samples to contact@versemag.com.au

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Saturday the 18th of October 2014 At the Adelaide Zoo The 2014 USASA Ball Non-stop gourmet catering, free flowing beverages, animal encounters, roaming entertainment, live music and more! All in a stunning venue at the Adelaide Zoo! Sanctuary ticket | $65 Includes 4 hour catering and drinks package, dessert bar and all entertainment.

Ball and VIP Panda Experience | $95 Includes Sanctuary ticket plus 1 hour premium drinks package in the bamboo forest with the Adelaide Zoo’s Pandas!

Tickets available now from USASA.sa.edu.au/estore More information at USASA.sa.edu.au/USASABall

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Film Reviews

Snowpiercer Sebastian Moore Directed by Bong Joon-ho, Snowpiercer inhabits a postapocalyptic, ice-lavished world where humanity is violently reduced by a failed global warming experiment and is made to live on a bullet train of continuous movement. For the fraction of humanity that is left, survival is dependent upon the train and its society. The trouble is, though, that not everybody is satisfied with their place in this society. Centred on Curtis (Chris Evans), a reluctant leader of the disenfranchised masses, the narrative focuses on the society’s revolt against the authoritarian system as they gradually move up through the train’s carriages.

Mason (Tilda Swinton) is the face of this authority. Enforcing the society’s rules through passages of chilling dialogue and ruthless punishment, she is one of many antagonists that stand in the way of Curtis and his revolutionaries. The creator of the train’s engine, however, is their biggest adversary. Dubbed by the name ‘Wilford’, which is referred to almost

religiously in the upper carriages, he represents to Curtis, and to everyone else at the foot of the train, a way of living that has marginalised them for the entirety of their lives in this society. His perpetuation of rules and structures through the hands of others has slowly manifested into a mythic representation of what he wants for humanity and what he thinks of societies.

In terms of direction, Snowpiercer navigates every inch of its confined setting with surgical precision, mastering its space with a visual fluency that never feels repetitive or claustrophobic. Joon-ho brings a particularly Korean flavour to the production too, informing its use of action and sense of humour to increasingly fresh effect.

Tilda Swinton, who channels Margaret Thatcher in a way that marries cartoonish villainy and a disturbing specificity, steals every scene she’s given. Chris Evans is serviceable in the lead role, but feels uncertain in a

crucial monologue near the film’s end that threatens to derail its momentum.

The casting of ‘Wilford’, however, feels delightfully meta, and imparts the way you view and look back on the film as a whole.

Like a rabbit-hole, Snowpiercer pulls you into its strange world and mines gold from its perceptively simple ideas. Themes of society, structure and revolution are threaded seamlessly into its narrative without ever feeling like its pontificating or drawing focus away from the film’s visceral pleasures.

High concept science fiction is rarely feasible, but in the assured hands of Bong Joon-ho, Snowpiercer has an uncommon gravity in its materialisation that keeps its high-wire act from toppling over. There are a couple of nits to be picked, sure, but its final moments redeem any misgivings and suggest something genuinely moving and profound: that no matter what happens to societies, humanity will always find a way to survive and live on past them.

Thanks to Palace Nova Cinemas for providing the opportunity to review this film.

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Guardians of the Galaxy Alex Graham Marvel Studios has done it again.

After showing off their most popular characters in blockbusters like The Avengers (2012), they’ve turned to their more obscure comic books for ideas. This time, we’re introduced to a gang of lovable misfits in one of the funniest and most enjoyable films of the year, Guardians of the Galaxy.

After stealing a mysterious orb, outlaw Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) finds himself the subject of an intergalactic hunt. Religious fanatic Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace) leads the chase, determined to use the orb to destroy the planet Xandar. Quill—or Star-Lord, as he prefers to be known by—is then forced to form an uneasy alliance with assassin Gamora (Zoe Saldana), warrior Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista), talking raccoon Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper) and walking, talking tree Groot (voiced by Vin Diesel).

Writer and Director James Gunn has produced a highly entertaining space adventure, masterfully blending action and spectacle with humour and heart.

There’s a lot of oddity on display and

Gunn manages a consistent tone throughout. A sombre opening scene is soon followed by Quill dancing through temple ruins, without feeling out of place. It’s a fast-paced rollercoaster of adventure that earnestly wears its heart on its sleeve, rewarding the audience with one of the best Marvel films to date. The film also contains a wonderfully retro soundtrack of 70s pop hits that ultimately plays an important role in the film’s plot—good luck trying to get Redbone’s ‘Come and Get Your Love’ out of your head any time soon.

What really makes Guardians soar is its vibrant characters. Each of our reluctant heroes has their own rich back-story and unique personality.

Pratt is both hilarious and charming, and it’s great to see slacker Andy Dwyer from Parks and Recreation transform into leading man. Saldana strikes a great balance between toughas-nails and vulnerable as the troubled foil to Pratt’s Quill. Former professional wrestler Bautista is a pleasant surprise as the very literal Drax, getting some of the biggest laughs in the film. For

Rocket Raccoon, Cooper does his best Joe Pesci impersonation. And in gentle giant Groot, this movie will make you fall in love with a talking tree.

Other great actors such as Michael Rooker, John C Reilly and Glenn Close round out the supporting cast. The only thing Guardians seems to lack is truly compelling villains. Lee Pace as Ronan and Doctor Who’s Karen Gillan as Nebula have little to do other than to act menacing. However, this seems to fit with the simple, Indiana Jones-style plot and the colourful protagonists make up for it.

This film truly made me feel like a little kid again. The joy and excitement it leaves you with as the credits roll makes you anxious with anticipation for the sequel. Overflowing with fun, emotion and extraordinary characters, Guardians of the Galaxy really succeeds. And as always with Marvel movies, remember to stay until after the credits!

Thanks to Palace Nova Cinemas for providing the opportunity to review this film.

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If I Stay Ben Allison ‘Life is a big, fat, gigantic, stinky mess and that’s the beauty of it too.’

What?

‘Sometimes you make choices in life and sometimes choices make you.’

What does this mean? I’m not really sure and I actually saw the movie.

I feel like I should have been warned that If I Stay was based on a Young Adult novel before I entered the cinema.

Filled to the brim with clichéd and cheesy one-liners, the film packs every situation that could possibly make a teenager cry, ‘smooshes’ them into one film, and then hurls it at the viewer, hoping that something will strike a chord.

The only thing that didn’t make the cut was terminal illness, but let’s leave that to The Fault in Our Stars.

The closest we get is a coma-laden Mia (Chloë Grace Moretz), who after a horrific car accident is able to walk through the hospital in spirit form, staring teary-eyed at her friends and family while they cry around her body.

Her too-cool-for-school parents (I couldn’t help but think they were hoping to emulate Emma Stone’s on-screen parents in Easy A), and her annoyingly, overly supportive little brother, were also involved in the collision, and their fate after the crash is drawn out for maximum emotional damage.

Moretz is a great little actor and this film is no exception—I’ve loved her work ever since the first Kick Ass. However, I couldn’t get past the overlydramatic nature of the film (I found myself cringing during certain scenes and rolling my eyes at others), and by the end of it I almost started to pray that someone would take the initiative to pull the cord to Mia’s life-support, thereby sparing me the trauma of watching any more of the movie.

The film uses flashbacks of Mia’s life as another device to elicit emotion from the viewer. We see her dramatic struggles with her musician boyfriend, her passion for cello, and her all-tooperfect home life spliced between scenes of her spirit running around the hospital; a reminder of everything that could be lost.

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