Critic - 2023 Issue 26

r1.co.nz/onecard

Burger King

BK Chicken Small Value Meal for $10

BBQ Bacon Double Cheeseburger Small Value Meal for $10

University Book Shop (UBS)

10% o full-priced items.

Boss Pizza•Burger

Free upsize any burger from single to double OR medium pizza to large. Burger + fries + drink OR snack pizza + fries + drink for only $14.90. Wa e Wednesday $7 ALL DAY!

Cornerstone Ink Tattoo Studio

10% student discount on any tattoo, not in conjunction with any other special.

Headquarters Hairdressing

20% o all services for students with 2023 Onecard or Student ID.

Lumino The Dentists

$69 new patient exam & x-ray, plus 10% o further treatments (excluding implants & orthodontics).

Only Ur's Beauty Parlour

$35 Brazillian Maintenance, $15 Eyebrow Wax, $45 Eyelash Lift, $18 Male Eyebrow Wax, $55 Eyelash + Tint Deal, or $22 Spray Tan.

Tūhura Otago Museum

2-for-1 student entry to Tūhura Science Centre to see the butterflies, Monday to Friday only. 10% o for all students at the Tūhura Otago Museum shop.

DEAL OF THE WEEK:

Reading Cinemas

Buy a medium popcorn and upgrade to a laarge for free.

SUBWAY

Buy any 6inch ‘Sub Box’ (1x 6inch, 1x cookie, 1x drink) and receive a FREE upgrade of your Six Inch sub to a Footlong sub.

Sal’s Authentic New York Pizza Charging Bull Combo (Red Bull, Slice, and a Garlic Knot) for $11.

Float Fix

$65 Float Special

Gelato Junkie $1 o double scoop gelato.

Amigos Dunedin

15% o your bill. Dine-in only. Not to be used with other discounts, and excludes Tuesdays.

Taco Bell Buy any regular combo and get upsized for free.

Nando’s Octagon 20% o food and drink.

La Porchetta

10% discount on all items and beverages.

ReBurger Upgrade to a combo for $3.

Mr Noodles

Larnach Castle & Gardens

‘Big Kids go Free’ - one free entry with one paying adult and 'Ride Share' - Two or more in your car? Get a 50% discount on each entry.

ADJǾ

10% o everything at ADJØ (excluding already discounted deals and alcohol).

Strictly Co ee Company

Co ee Roastery & Café

10% o co ee beans and brew gear including Frank Green products. Excludes cafe food and drink.

Sax Hair Design

20% o all services - excluding hair extensions.

Beauty Mirror

Eyebrow Wax or Thread from $15 and Full Set Eyelash Extension from $75.

Beauteholic Beauty Studio

Brow shape and Brazilian wax combo (Braz and Brows Combo) for $50.

Girls Get O

20% o storewide using discount code OTAGASM at girlsgeto .com

TM Automotive $60 warrant of fitness fee.

Noel Leeming

RA Hair and Beauty

$21 Spray Tan

Buy TWO Image products, get a FREE facial or cleanser. $169 - 1/2 head foils including toner, plex and hydration treatment (surcharges may apply for length and thickness). All deals valid weekdays before 5pm.

Stirling Sports

10% student discount on all full-priced items.

Takeichi 15% o food.

1 Free Cold Dish with any order from N1 to N3. Reload Fast Nutrition 15% o your total order.

Taste Nature 10% o storewide. In-store only.

Preferential pricing storewide. In-store only. Some of our nationally advertised specials may be at a lower price. You will receive the best price on the day for the item(s) you choose. Exclusions apply. Ask in-store for full details.

JBL

ORI ‘23 SPECIAL - 25% o site wide until 19th March. Rest of year, 20% o site wide (excluding sale items) with code RADIOONE on jbl.co.nz

LETTERS

EMAIL CRITIC@CRITIC.CO.NZ

LETTER OF THE WEEK

Dear Critic,

LETTER OF THE WEEK WINS A $25 VOUCHER FROM UNIVERSITY BOOKSHOP

In the midst of procrastinating studying for exams, the last thing I want to see is you sadistic sell-outs taking out a quarter of the puzzle section to list in ALPHABETICAL ORDER who's performing at Rhythm and Alps. Seriously, could give less of a fuck!!! I don't even like the word blocks, but I'd rather that than the obnoxious advertisement ruining the serenity of the puzzle pages. While I'm on the topic, bring back the spot the difference too, something simpler for the humble Bcom student.

Willing to start a givealittle if you're that desperate.

Peace and love.

-AF

Editor’s Response: Ugh, yes, I know. It was a dick move. I was not happy about having to do that, believe me. To make up for it I’m putting double puzzles in this final issue. Puzzle page is sacred and I was pretty devo’d when we had to resort to this ad placement. Your fury is righteous, I promise.

Chur

Gidday,

Getting initiated to a well known castle street flat was the best day of the year.

Cheers.

Editor’s Response: I believe you. It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye (again).

Critic, Cybersecurity can get fucked! Every day there's a new training email saying

if an email you receive is

1. threatening

2. pressures you for time

3. looks like a scam email then the email is most likely a scam"

Then they have the balls to send emails that

1. THREATENING that they will snitch me to my supervisor.

2. TELL ME I HAVE LIMITED TIME to complete the training

3. looks like a scam email

????

Sincerely, MN

Kia ora Critic, Was the interview with OUSA president Keegan Wells a fucking joke?

Yours sincerely, Not Laughing

Editor’s Response: Yes.

Critic, Tell the landlords to stop signing pretentious w*nkers into the castle flats. There were no good hosts this year and it was so exclusive. Just embarrassing really. Also, can people stop involving animals into their initiations? It’s pretty disturbing. I’m not even going to comment on the Castles initiation. You guys are a bunch of knobheads.

-A.L.

ISSUE 26 09 OCTOBER 2023

EDITOR Fox Meyer

SUB-EDITOR Nina Brown

NEWS EDITOR Nina Brown

FEATURES EDITOR Elliot Weir

CULTURE EDITOR Annabelle Parata Vaughan

KAITUHI MĀORI

Skyla, Ngāti Hine

STAFF WRITERS

Lotto Ramsay, Jamiema Lorimer, Zak

Rudin, Iris Hehir

CONTRIBUTORS: Harriette Boucher, Reuben Kiss

COLUMNISTS

FOOD: Charley Burnett @chargrillss

BOOZE REVIEWS: Dan Muir

DESIGNER Molly Willis

SUB-DESIGNER

Evie Noad

ILLUSTRATION

Mikey Clayton @itsspikeymikey

Daniel Van Lith @art_by_deeev

Justina King @coccinelleart

PHOTOGRAPHER Connor Simpson @simpson.photography

VIDEO TEAM LEAD Connor Simpson

VIDEO EDITOR Sophie Douglas

VIDEOGRAPHY Hugh Askerud, Isaac Chadwick

CENTREFOLD Imogen Harris

FRONT COVER Mikey Clayton

ONLINE Arlo Hill

DISTRIBUTION Vincent Withers Pedals Dunedin

ADVERTISING SALES

Michael Phillipps Nicholas Hanover Anna Casey sales@planetmedia.co.nz 03 479 5361

READ ONLINE critic.co.nz Issuu.com/critic_te_arohi

GET IN TOUCH critic@critic.co.nz

Facebook/CriticTeArohi 03 479 5335

P.O.Box 1436, Dunedin Critic Te Ārohi is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA).

Disclaimer: the views presented within this publication do not necessarily represent the views of the Editor or OUSA.

NZ Media Council: People with a complaint against a magazine should first complain in writing to the Editor and then, if not satisfied with the response, complain to the NZ Media Council.

Complaints should be addressed to the Secretary: info@mediacouncil.org.nz.

IS THIS A DUNEDIN INITIATION OR A CIA BLACKSITE TORTURE METHOD?

BY FOX MEYER

Flat initiations are 20 years old at best. You know what else is 20 years old? Enhanced interrogation techniques designed by CIA crackpots in the wake of 9/11. They like to go out, abduct suspected terrorists and then torture them for weeks in secret locations on foreign soil. The tactics used (the whole programme, really) were kept secret until leaks in the mid ‘10s, and once out in the open, shit hit the fan - quick. And as we’ve covered this year’s intense initiation season, I’ve realised that the tactics used to “get together for a good bit of fun” are literally the exact same as those used to torture “the worst of humanity”. Let’s see if you can tell them apart. Which of these happened in a Dunedin initiation, and which happened in a CIA Blacksite? Which happened in both?

Subjects were…

1. Shaved

2. Waterboarded

3. Deprived of sleep for up to a week

4. Forced to stand naked against a wall

5. Had a bag secured on their head and then beaten

6. Crammed into coffin-sized boxes

7. Crammed into coffin-sized boxes filled with a gas

8. Subjected to “rectal rehydration”

9. Forced to consume vomit

10. Forced to consume faeces

11. Used for sexual gain

12. Urinated on

13. Killed

BONUS ROUND!

Does this come from news coverage of Blacksites or initiations?

1. A bunch of videos of [event] are deleted after the group gets in trouble with [authority]. They delete the videos ahead of investigation, because the penalty for that “is nothing compared to what it would be if the [videos were posted]... out of context they would make us look terrible.”

2. [One of the abusers] said it was “tough to watch in places.”

3. “The [subject] was found unresponsive, on his stomach with bubbles frothing from his mouth.”

And here are some recent highlights: one girl was forced to drink a slurry of vodka and shellfish juice. She’s allergic to shellfish, so she brought her epi-pen, immediately used it and went to the hospital. Last year, a boy was blinded when a frozen egg was thrown in his eye. Another girl refused to do a cigarette race, so she was pinned down and had her eyebrows shaved. She’d lost a family member to lung cancer. Another group of girls was made to chain smoke inside wheelie bins, which then (surprise!) filled with carbon monoxide and one of them passed out. To help her out, her mates knocked her bin around with her inside. I saw videos of boys getting straight-up beaten by mates who’ll be passing them a beer ten minutes later. I saw videos of people being forced to drink 20 standards in 20 minutes, then vomiting into each other’s mouths.

But here’s the thing: they all “want” to do this. It’s voluntary. Adults in the safety of their own homes. But I just have a really hard time believing that this “want” is genuine. I believe that if you’ve gone through it, you want to do it to someone else. I believe that you want to have a strong group of friends. I believe that you want approval and want to show off. But I don’t believe that you want to be doing this - because if you did, you wouldn’t have a problem with the fact that I’ve got you on video committing a violent crime.

This is not student culture. It’s 20 years old, tops. And it’ll either stop when - like with the CIA - you kill someone and the world watches, or when you all decide to reel your fucking heads in and find a better way to do group bonding. You can bitch and moan about me covering your initiations, but when someone dies, that’s gonna be a pretty cringe take to look back on.

I’m sick of this bullshit. I’m sick of the bad name you’re giving Dunedin, and I’m sick of seeing year after year of genuinely good people do the most depraved shit you’ve ever seen. There is no way someone in that initiation can say “no” - I know, I’ve been there. And you act like it’s so unfair that the media is focusing on you, that you’re gonna pay the consequences for a “tradition” that nobody else got in trouble for. Tough shit. You chose to engage in literal torture, and you’re either gonna own up to that or you’re gonna go home. Hopefully not in a box.

Bonus round:

9. Dunedin, 10. Dunedin, 11. Dunedin, 12. Both, 13. CIA (for now).

ANSWERS:

1. Both, 2. Both, 3. CIA, 4. Both, 5. Both, 6. Both, 7. Dunedin, 8. Both,

1. CIA, 2. CIA, 3. CIA.

PSA: This is the last issue of Critic Te Ārohi for the year. Deputy director of the iconic Dunedin Study, Richie Poulton, died last week.

White powder seen on the broken Ranfurly Shield sparked an investigation by NZ Rugby last week. Other teams who also snorted lines off it laugh at the idiocy.

Street, where you can go to sew up your torn clothes. A very valuable skill for when our society inevitably collapses.

overwhelm her. She’s old.

Local greenie grandma Rosemary Penwarden has been sentenced to 125 hours of community work for forging an email in a climate protest in 2019.

LEGO tried to switch from oil-based plastics, but ditched the effort since its new material led to higher carbon emissions. The thought that counts?

Covid is surging again in Otago, but reported cases are not matching wastewater testing. Looks like people are getting sick and just not testing for Covid.

Stitch Kitchen is open at 474 Princes

Ella the OUSA Student Support dog is retiring. Wish her all the best, but please don’t

On The Rocks: Mixologists vs Scientists will be held on the 11th of Oct, 7pm in the Indigo Room. Each ticket gets you a drink and a side of science. If you need to send stuff home for the holidays, head to OUSA Clubs and Socs for a $20 box that they’ll send to any location in NZ for you.

Initiations "Back With a Vengeance" After Covid Hiatus

Last week, we reported on a flat initiation involving a live eel. Since then, the ODT and NZ Herald have picked up the story, police have been informed, and an investigation by the Uni (who knew about the incident prior to publication) is underway. A minority of students defend the initiation in the name of “good fun”, while the majority have never, and will never, engage in one.

There is mounting concern among many, chiefly the Proctor, over the escalating severity of initiations. Critic spoke to the Proctor, who explained that over his seven years in the role, initiations have evolved. But they’re not actually tradition: “Students say it's been around for 50, maybe 100 years. It’s not, it’s maybe 15 years old.”

Despite this, students involved ardently defend the activities - though they’re not quick to put their names, faces or addresses on record. Wonder why. One of them commented to Critic that they think “the Proctor’s been really harsh about it all.” In response, the Proctor said, “I’d rather be seen by students as trying to ruin their fun than sit back and wait for someone to die.”

The Proctor said initiations had subsided a bit with Covid, but this year they've \ been “back with a vengeance… What seems to happen is that year on year the events are added to, so if one year the host flat did A, B and C, year two it’s A, B, C, D and E and then we get to a point where it’s really dangerous and really feral and we’re harming people.” Or, in some cases, animals. But, even considering the chugging of vomit, the beatings, the hospital trips and stomach pumps, “At the end of the day everyone is enjoying themselves,” said one student.

The Proctor also gave us a copy of a letter penned to flats who plan on hosting initiations. In it, he points out the section of the Student Code of Conduct relating to initiations that reads: “Organising or participating in any initiation event or ceremony that jeopardises your fellow students’ wellbeing, personal, physical or

emotional safety, or encourages breaking the law” are among behaviours that “put you in serious risk of facing exclusion from the University for a semester or more”.

This is part of a “proactive approach” initiative that was sparked after 2017 when a vomit-filled Debacle initiation made national headlines and saw the nine hosts expelled from the Uni. It resulted in what Critic reported on at the time as a “crackdown” on initiations by the Uni. The Proctor told us that this was opposed to “sitting at the bottom of the cliff and waiting for them to crash - let’s get to the top of the cliff and put some barriers up.”

“So we go and have a conversation about the expectations, we provide them with a copy of the Student Code of Conduct, and then this year we followed up with an email to the flat.” The email contains the foreboding statement that “there is genuine concern that one of these events will result in serious harm or death.”

“If we have a really bad event and a student dies - has an anaphylactic shock to something that they’re forced to eat, or dies of alcohol poisoning or whatever - who's gonna be investigated? The host flat [will be], and that'll be for a manslaughter charge,” said the Proctor. “And I don't want that. I don't want the death, and I don't want the flat investigated.” He has heard more rumours than evidence, and he said that this year especially, the stories are starting to take a toll. But “I will sleep quite well at night knowing that I'm doing this work. And I'll make no apologies for it. It's not a tradition. I don't think it reflects our students at all.”

And as media coverage creates scrutiny, many initiations have moved indoors or into backyards, away from public view. There is still a group of onlookers present, who are generally encouraged to bring shit to throw at the first-years. Last year, an egg cost one student the better part of his eye. “It worries me that that’s how we can treat our own,” said the Proctor. “Our first-year students

By Fox Meyer & Nina Brown Editor // News Editor

are less than a year’s difference in age, and yet it gives the second-year students permission to bully, intimidate, humiliate, degrade.”

Another major concern is the power imbalance between the second and first-years meaning that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t say no to being subjected to these events that entail “humiliation, nudity, bodily fluids, bullying, intimidation or harassment” because of the immense pressure coming from the second-years and their fellow initiates. “And then you add a hundred people in the crowd who are encouraging and love the debauchery and the salacious nature of it. And sometimes that can be a catalyst for the hosts losing control of it and things spiral quickly out of control.” It’s like our very own fucked up version of Lord of the Flies.

Besides the initiation we know involved cruelty to a live eel (that carries a maximum sentence of five years prison and hefty fine, mind you) there have also been rumours going around that some initiates may have been or will be asked to bring live ducks. And considering recent events, it’s not outside the realm of possibility. “Absolutely no good could ever come of this,” said the Proctor. “I don’t think it reflects who we are.”

“I will sleep quite well at night knowing that I'm doing this work. And I'll make no apologies for it. It's not a tradition. I don't think it reflects our students at all.”

Onslaught of Cyber Security Emails Annoy Students

“Password in email = epic fail”, says a University desperately trying to connect with the kids

If you've looked at your inbox at all this year, you will have noticed a torrent of emails from the Uni giving you a “friendly reminder that you have not yet completed the University of Otago cyber security training module(s)” and that these are “mandatory to complete”. The onslaught of these ironically spammy emails has left students a little peeved, with one news tip sent to Critic complaining that cyber security can “get fucked! Every day there’s a new training email,” with another student reporting they received four identical emails within the space of two hours one afternoon.

One student aptly pointed out that the very same emails saying that “if an email you receive if threatening, pressures you for time, and looks like a scam email then the email is most likely a scam” are, in fact, “THREATENING that they will snitch me to my supervisor, TELL ME I HAVE LIMITED TIME to complete the training, and looks like a scam email.” Make it make sense, doll.

Clearly one of the biggest frustrations from students was the sheer quantity of emails sent. One student said, “They spam me too much… It’s my prerogative if I want to get phished or something like that.” Aware that at least some students may give a fuck about the modules, and wondering if they are actually mandatory or whether the Uni is cosplaying as a playground kid making threats to tell on you to your parents, Critic made the effort to have a look into students' concerns (or lack thereof).

When asked if they were concerned about there being consequences for not completing the modules, one student said, “Fuck it , I don’t care.” Another said that at this stage

By Reuben Kiss Contributor

they’re not going to do it “out of spite.” This lack of interest seems to add up. Otago Uni IT Services Acting Director Wallace Chase told us that about 30 percent of students have completed the training, with average scores of about 83-95 per cent in assessments.” Hey, at least it’s a decent grade right? Go students?

The biggest question on everyone’s minds centred around the use of the word “mandatory”. What are you gonna do if I don’t do it? Tell on me? The Uni’s response would leave any politician salivating: “Training is mandatory for staff –including students in staff roles – and is highly recommended for all students.” So no it’s… not mandatory for students? Chase elaborated: “While the training is mandatory for staff and students in staff roles, it is not mandatory for other students and including the word ‘mandatory’ in their emails was an oversight which we are correcting.”

Asked about the point of the training, Chase told us: “We strongly believe the training is a valuable skill we provide for students’ study, work, and play… Students will be better equipped to identify constantly evolving cyber threats, including phishing, smishing, whaling, and social engineering attacks.” On whether or not that’s actually working, he replied, “Last year, 20 percent of students clicked on a malicious link sent as a test, and this year it was 15 per cent, indicating training has been effective,” because as any Health Sci kid will tell you, 5% makes a big difference. He did, however, offer a sincere apology for the number of emails sent to students, and “any inconvenience those email notifications caused.” Ah, vindication.

"Do it now" = raise an eyebrow!

critic@critic.co.nz

EDUCATION

UNIVERSITY OF OTAGO

1925-CURRENT

Still have not graduated, is that a problem?

STRENGTHS

• Have never been $60 million in debt

• Only one banned issue in 98 years (that we know of)

• Good at ChatGPT

• Comfortable with nudity

• Conflict escalation

Critic Te Ārohi

EXPERIENCE

• 98 years’ experience in Otago-specific tertiary coverage

• WWII Veteran

• Experience rationing in times of financial hardship

• Editor, Critic Te Ārohi

Consistently over-spent the budget on treats, which I only looked at once

• Created a “Writers Anonymous” programme in which staff could anonymously report on each other's shortcomings, allowing me to selectively terminate the lowest-performing employees

SKILLS

• Graphic design (I can make a new logo)

• Cost-cutting (I only pay my staff in Red Bull and crackers so I think I can convince your staff to do the same)

• Excellent at ignoring hate mail and unplugging the landline, which will obviously be critical to success in this role

• Gaslighting complainants into dropping their complaints

• Ripping cones out of a personal Clocktower bong

• Financial Astrologising

• Adept at using monetary alchemy to transform endowments into liabilities and disguising debt as a marker of prestige and success

• Demonstrated excellence at stoking conflict between stakeholders

WEAKNESSES

• Understanding why we can’t just print more money

• Spelling the word "universtity"

• Remembering meetings

• Knowing what costs come out of which budget line

• Cassowaries and pelicans

The University is advertising for a new Vice Chancellor. institution through tough times, so we at Critic Te Ārohi Dunedin like we do. Here’s what we sent in.

Dunedin, Otago 9016

To the Selection Committee at the University of Otago,

I am writing to express my interest in the job posting (ref# 6808) for Vice Chancellor at the University of Otago. I can bring a 98-year history of experience in Dunedin, a demonstrated ability to fall short of expectations, and an incomparably reckless attitude towards budgeting: all attributes that define this role.

Obviously, your most pressing issue is the University’s current financial situation. This is precisely why I am an ideal candidate for this role, as I have extensive experience with imploding budgets. That being said, if we actually want to fix the problem, I have already taken the initiative and created a GoFundMe for Otago University (you’re welcome), which I’m sure will suffice. I’m aware that you increase student fees the maximum possible amount every year, which is noble, but not enough. This is why I have also planned a lavish Bankruptcy Gala where attendees may donate large sums of money in exchange for the privilege of watching this world-class institution collapse in real time. After all, nothing says “world-class” like losing hundreds of staff in iconic fashion; just ask the Titanic.

As this is a leadership role, I would like to outline my leadership capabilities. I would define my overall style as “authoritative dictatorship”, which means I can save a lot of money by firing the entire University Council. Chief amongst my skills are conflict resolution, which the University is in dire need of at the moment. I solve every debate with a heated game of paper scissors rock or, if it comes to it, pushing someone out a window.

Mental health is also a major concern amongst the kids these days and, luckily for you, I watch a lot of TikToks so I’m essentially a licensed psychologist. This is why I would immediately dismantle all mental health services on campus and instead allow students to just self-diagnose. It’s way cheaper and honestly just as effective.

Other cost-saving suggestions include reducing the hall diets to cricket protein and hard liquor and burning all of our library books to save on heating. With fewer academic staff there’s less need for textbooks. Plus, we can turn the empty building into a new hall for the anticipated rise in enrolments. Finally, I’d sell the entire Wellington campus before it’s destroyed in an earthquake.

Speaking of earthquakes, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that cutting the Geology Department was probably not as prudent as you thought. Not because we’ll need climate scientists or anything, and certainly not because they provided you with an alternative solution that kept their staff and met your austere financial requirements (which was admirably rebuked, nice one), but because if we’re going to be digging holes this deep, we’ll probably need some geologists. Just a thought.

Finally, I’ll leave you with this: a university is meant to be the “critic and conscience” of society. By definition, I am the Critic. I will leave the conscience part to you.

See you in the interview,

Critic Te Ārohi

Someone has to take up the mantle and lead this struggling

figured we’d throw our name in the hat. After all, nobody knows

A message for the 2024 Otago Student Cohort

By Quintin Jane 2023 OUSA President

Since this is the last issue of Critic for the year, I thought I’d take the opportunity to use the my executive privilege to hijack a page here and say thank you to everyone at the University of Otago and across the country who has taken time this year to bring attention to the tertiary funding crisis facing Aotearoa.

This is not something I was expecting to focus on coming into this role, and it’s certainly made for an interesting year in student politics. But with the support of the staff and student bodies, we’ve gone a huge way towards making a difference to the tertiary education sector.

It is only with the collective effort of everyone that we secured the largest increase to tertiary education funding in decades. The Government announced 5% at the budget, and an additional 4%, $128 Million Dollars, after the fact to support the tertiary sector. This could not have happened without everyone coming to the table, so thank you.

Regardless of the outcome of the election next week, there will be work to do to protect tertiary education. The National Party have yet to commit to even retaining the higher education funding review, and we’ll need to fight to make sure the findings are implemented.

Student voice is still disempowered, we have one voice on Council, and students’ associations are still forced to rely on universities for their funding. We’ve shown that we can come together and be a powerful voice for change despite these challenges; this momentum cannot be lost.

If we want full fees free, a Study Wage/Universal Student Allowance, the winter energy payment, to repeal Voluntary Student Membership and empower students’ associations, we can get it if we keep going in our push for change in the tertiary sector.

This year has just been the start of an ongoing process to overhaul how we in Aotearoa view tertiary education. We have seen that user-pays does not work, and have shown the country that change is needed, and students want it. The tertiary sector can change; students can make that happen.

Also, vote. Voting closes this week. There are parties that want to scrap fees free. Some have been conveniently silent on the tertiary education crisis, and thinks the only way out is to keep exploiting international students. There are ~21,000 students at the University of Otago, nearly 400,000 in the country. This election, together, we can ensure our universities are protected.

It’s been an absolute privilege to be OUSA President this year. Good luck for your exams, and remember, OUSA is your student association. You’re our boss, make sure the 2024 executive knows what you want, and works for you. Email them, go up to the office and chat with them. They are paid to help.

And if you want to get involved, nominations for the OUSA Academic Representative open next week.

A Goodbye from your 2023 Exec

Otago Uni can be life changing, so this is a reminder to get TF involved. Join all the clubs you can, visit all the beaches, run for OUSA exec (you get a free Hyde ticket), relish the fact that everyone lives so close to you!

Go to pint night, volunteer for Radio One 91FM, write for Critic, take a night off drinking if you want (STOP SMASHING GLASS ON THE GROUND), find what you love to study, and love your mates. Dunedin is a special place and we have loved representing your student voice this year.

Also remember that student health mental health appointments are free, OUSA student support does a drop in service, disabilities support and academic support help to take the stress off. Lecturers LIKE IT WHEN YOU EMAIL THEM. ASK FOR HELP! HUMANS ARE DESIGNED TO!!!

We wish you all the best with your exams, flat finding, summer job stress, and lives. OUSA has your back whether you know it or not. You can do this! Ka kite anō au

New Zealand Political Ambition Party Launches “The future… is coming.”

The New Zealand Political Ambition Party has just launched. The party is not technically registered but they still want your vote, and is definitely not a joke. In a press release the Party announced: “New Zealand has had enough. We’ve been listening. And now is the time for action.”

The press release continued: “Combining experience from business management to public speaking, our candidates are personally driven to deliver results in New Zealand politics. We’re ready to make our ambitions your future.”

Critic Te Ārohi snagged an interview with Greg Collins, leader of the New Zealand Political Ambition Party. On the Party website, Greg claims to “show up to every public event”. Critic Te Ārohi pressed Greg on what public events he has in fact shown up to but could not get a straight answer. “Public events are a great way to connect with Kiwis – I really see the value in them,” said Greg, nervously adjusting his chair.

Unsurprisingly, the core policy of the Political Ambition Party is to “change the government”, by putting the Political Ambition Party in government. “It’s delusional to expect that we would get anything less than 5% of the New Zealand

By Zak Rudin Chief Reporter // zak@critic.co.nz

vote,” said Greg. When asked what Greg would say to people who can’t vote as the Party is not technically registered, Greg responded simply that the election results will “speak for themselves”. Finally, common ground.

But a change in government is not just what the New Zealand Political Ambition Party is offering. “We’re offering successful governance, successful politics, real kiwis, real issues and real solutions,” said Greg. Critic Te Ārohi pressed Greg for any tangible policies, but he was stubborn. “At the end of the day all policies are related to your electability, and just like every other party, we're committed to making our political dreams your reality,” said Greg. Really makes you think.

Greg could not have been more motivated. “For us, it’s personal. We’ve always wanted to be in politics and with an election upcoming, what better time than now?” Greg described the campaign trail as “long but very exciting”. At time of writing, the party was launched four days ago. At the end of the day Greg was right about one thing: “The future of NZ is coming.”

Voting is open until Saturday 14th at 7PM.

PUZZLES

BROUGHT

KEEPING CRITIC CAFFEINATED

The (#) tells you how many words are in the solution. If a clue doesn’t have a (#), it’s a one-word answer. Answers in the grey boxes are all connected by the bold clue.

ACROSS:

2. Witch's familiar

4. Messy person

7. List of options

8. "Sorta" suffix

9. Soothing plant

10. African bird

12. "Blue", in Spanish

14. "Blanco", in English

15. No-show

17. Dr. Frankenstein's assistant

18. Curry order: "Bombay

19. Book prize: "___

Booker"

21. Beatle

23. Christmas decoration

DOWN:

1. Netlike fabric

2. Fees

3. Render harmless

4. Thrall, for one

5. Floater

6. Fowl language?

11. Canine command

13. Roswell sighting

14. Famous slapper (2)

16. Professional nature lover

20. Fish or hair preceder

PETROL

APOLOGY TOURIST REPORTER YOUTUBE EARTHQUAKE LUMP JACKET

24. Like some phones

26. Shaped like a mozzarella stick

28. Deli sandwich

30. Jacinda's kid

32. Worst American state

34. Muggy

36. Unexpected victory

38. Splinter's group, abbr.

39. Fizzy drink

40. Illicit version of 43A

41. Dairy alternative

42. Drops from the sky

43. This week's link between highlighted clues

44. Three feet

22. End of year cele.

23. Boxing match result, abbr.

25. Lights

27. Mac OS after Tiger

28. Give as a gift

29. Warm

31. Music genre, abrv.

33. Birth control option, abbr.

35. Soba alternative

BURRITOS VOODOO

DOWN: 1. DILL 2. PAGODA 3. CHESTNUT 4. ABRA 5. STEADY 6. FESTIVAL 7. PASO 14. ANVIL 16. NAIVE 18. SONAR 20. NINTENDO 22. DOORKNOB 25. UGANDA 26. FANDOM 28. AXIS 29. DING 31. BAHT

ACROSS: 8. TINA 9. HABIT 10. EDAM 11. ELBOWS 12. ACTION 13. JAVA 15. NANCY 17. VAST 19. OVEN 21. THIRD 23. LINT 24. CLAN 25. UTERO 26. FARM 27. CAMERA 30. KENOBI 32. FIND 33. DINGO 34. OCHO

ISSUE 25 PUZZLE ANSWERS

CROSSWORD 2

ACROSS:

9. National sport of South Korea

10. Baker's need

11. Carell's role in Anchorman

12. Its capital city is Nuuk

13. Violent windstorm

15. Right away

17. Sport in the octagon

19. Staring in astonishment (2)

DOWN:

1. Shot in the dark

2. Curry option?

3. Endor resident

4. Boardgame jumper

5. Mosque topper

6. Scar's henchmen

7. 2016 Best Picture "winner", for about two minutes (3)

8. One can be found in walls or in breeding chambers

13. Hitchhiker's digit

14. Psychic trait? abrv.

15. Frigid

16. It may be free

18. This week's connecting theme, one

22. Motorist's offence, briefly

23. Emerson's beer with a hybrid animal

25. Loudness unit

27. 5-part award-winning HBO historical drama

29. Waiting room

31. From around here

32. Purple drink (2)

of which is contained in each highlighted answer

20. Enter boyfriend from behind

21. Your local govern. body

24. Apple attachment piece

25. One connecting clue that WASN'T included in the theme

26. Square-muzzled primate

27. Chilly

28. "Please, call me ___. Mr. Bunny was my father."

29. Onion relative

30. Annual measurement

The (#) tells you how many words are in the solution. If a clue doesn’t have a (#), it’s a one-word answer. Answers in the grey boxes are all connected by the bold clue.

Last week, we had to put an ad here. We are very sorry, and it won't happen again this year. We've given you double puzzles this week to make up for it. Love you.

SPOT THE DIFFERENCE

WORD BLOCKS

Make up the 9-letter word hidden in these blocks, using every letter once.

I M S A W L U S T

J E L R Y H A S M

A T B M R O N I A

There are 10 differences between these images

By Annabelle Parata Vaughan

Well, here we are. It’s the final issue of Critic for 2023, and my final issue forever. I’ve been lucky enough to spend three glorious, tumultuous, unhinged years writing for this publication, and now the time has come for my final rampage. And to that I say: fuck it, let’s privatise the Business School. Fully and exclusively.

If you’ve been following along this year, you know that 2023 has been nothing but a dumpster fire for the University. Back in May, Otago announced they had a 60 million dollar deficit which they blamed on lower-than-expected student enrolment, even though the targets they missed were set by… themselves. And they were strangely high. Because things around here run like a business, the University realised the only way to rebalance the spreadsheets was to cut costs, which is just finance bro speak for cutting staff; many of whom have dedicated their entire lives to public education and the pursuit of knowledge. Who needs ‘em?

The tertiary sector has been chronically underfunded since the 1980s when we moved to a fees-based model which relies on enrolments to generate income. This model, combined with the fact we’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine, meant that with the introduction of student loans, people were only enrolling in degrees that would guarantee

them “job security”, (AKA Commerce). Since this change to the tertiary sector, Commerce degree enrolments have shot up 25 percent. Sure, the University still gets funding from the Government, but it’s nowhere near as much as it should be, and it seems like every single subject which isn’t considered “profitable” is on the chopping block.

This leads me to my point: surely, in order to avoid a financial crisis and mass redundancies, we entirely privatise the Business School. They will only make money from direct enrolments, not from any other part of Otago Uni. Put your money where your mouth is, right?

They’re already quite separate. When you walk into the Business School it doesn’t even seem like it’s part of the University. Maybe my view of university buildings is slightly cooked due to spending the past six years cramped up in the brutalist Burns building which hasn’t been yassified since the ‘70s, but there is something liminal about the Business School (or, as I call it, the land of the invisible hand). It’s got modern architecture, a cafe, huge screens telling me which stonks to buy, drinking fountains with ice cold water, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Leith. It’s a wide open space that reeks of privilege, fake tan, and Lynx Africa. It’s full of girls who want to be influencers and boys who

Just inside, a place austerity exist. Never

think that American Psycho wasn’t satire. Just by stepping foot inside, you can tell it’s a place where fiscal austerity doesn’t seem to exist. And underfunding? Never heard of her. If it doesn’t fit aesthetically with the University, then isn’t that grounds enough to make it a separate entity? Unless you’re studying in the sweltering heat of Central, or risking life and limb to get in the Richardson Building elevator, surely you can’t really call yourself an Otago student.

Now before you all get up my ass, now is the time to disclose that I was once a Business School-dwelling beezy. As a fresher, I was a Marketing major until I had the realisation that the entire degree was based on manipulating consumers into buying shit they don’t need and destroying the planet - so I know the fire I’m stoking. Never in my six years of being at the University have I ever met, heard, or encountered a Commerce student who genuinely didn’t think or was told in a lecture that capitalism was the best economic framework for society, and that the only way to deal with debt or financial troubles was cuts to public goods and services. I’ve met several Commerce students who love to yap on about how much they hate socialism and government spending. Well, if government spending assists universities, and you’re all sluts for the free market, then shouldn’t the Business School become a privatised entity? It doesn’t make a lot

of sense for you to be taking money from the state when it appears you’re so vehemently against that. Commerce also destroys the original point of university education, anyway. University is a space for thinking, debating, critiquing, and considering how we can improve upon society. It’s not a place where Brad from Takapuna Grammar can drink his way through fees-free to come out with a BCom and get a consulting gig paying gross amounts of money. The fuck are you even “consulting” on at the age of 22? It seems that the commerce programs offer little space for critical thinking, philosophical discussion or political debate. The general logic appears to be “money good, tax bad, me Brad.”

If the Business School is privatised and operates strictly like the business model it continuously promotes, that frees up a bit of cash to save the other subjects which are about to be plagued with mass redundancies, budget cuts, and a lack of resources. Lecturers across all disciplines get to keep their jobs, and as long as we live in a society which pushes the belief that you should go to university to become “employable” or people come to Otago just to have fun, then I have no doubt the Commerce degree enrolments will keep coming in. It’s a win-win, and it’s time to practise what you preach, motherfuckers.

by stepping foot inside, you can tell it’s place where fiscal austerity doesn’t seem to exist. And underfunding?

Never heard of her.

NANNY MCPHEE

By Hugh Askerud

Art by Dan Van Lith

MCPHEE

Kicking someone out of your flat is a shitty experience, particularly when it’s a byproduct of your own shitty behaviour. Though it’s usually justified, the experience nonetheless leaves scars on the flat. Conversations are left in flux. A uniting, common enemy is lost. Rent must be covered. Who’s gonna cop the passive aggressive flack from everyone at flat meetings? Where will the drama go that everyone so desperately craves? Most importantly, what random will you take on as your new flatmate?

A flurry of questions, yet scant solutions. It seems that, in the face of all these problems, there’s really only one thing you can hope for. That thing being none other than the immortal governess herself: Nanny McPhee.

I’M SORRY IT’S COME TO THIS, AND SO IS SHE. BUT IT’S THE ONLY WAY FORWARD.

Like, literally who the hell wouldn’t want Nanny McPhee in their flat? Although I guess the whole point is you don’t want her, but hell, you need her with that room of yours. I’m sorry it’s come to this, and so is she. But it’s the only way forward.

But why Nanny McPhee, really? To answer this question, I will first look at the practicalities of the issue and then look at the purpose. The most obvious practical benefit from her presence is that she pays rent. During that murky in-between period when you’re looking for a new flatmate, the room’s just sitting there, begging to be let. Nanny McPhee also only takes Sundays off which is great for you, as you’ll probably be taking most of that day for worship anyway. Also, beneath the various warts and other unusual skin tags, Nanny McPhee is actually global superstar actor Emma Thompson! Imagine the clout you could garner pulling up to pint night with Emma Thompson in tow, warts and all. The pint night line would be something to scoff at as you glide into U-Bar, ready to receive your obligatory free pints and offer waltzing lessons.

As mentioned, the ultimate purpose of having Nanny McPhee stay at your flat would be to help heal the flat drama that emptied her room in the first place. So now comes the tough bit: she will grill you. A pure emotional assault that will leave you all in tears. Nanny McPhee is also too moral to gaslight you, so instead she uses her supernatural powers to literally force you into obeying her will. One bang of her stick and you’ll find yourself in the car, driving to pick up your flatmate from work without any desire to do so. I won’t lie (because she won’t let me), the first two weeks aren’t going to be pretty. She catches you with a bong in hand? You’ll be doing push-ups until your knuckles are bleeding and you’re pleading to go back to Auckland. But hey, she’s a military-trained nanny, so push-ups are part of the package.

But at the end of the day, catharsis will be found in the struggle. With Nanny McPhee mediating discussions you will have the opportunity to reconnect, finding out what you mean to each other as friends and flatmates, and maybe more. Through the tears there will be laughs and through the intense discussion there will be a chance to start again as a completely new flat. To be Nanny McFree.

Plus, think of all the great personal benefits to her staying! You’ll go to bed early and will always use your ‘please and thank you’s, the quintessential elements to success in the corporate world (there’s a reason she’s a government nanny).

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: the person you need is Nanny McPhee, a potential light in the dark for flats looking to navigate their intense drama and ongoing flat issues. To this end, I plead: if Nanny McPhee comes knocking on your flat door one weary day, let her use your spare room. It’s worth subjecting yourself to complete loss of bodily control and constant fear of her wrath for the peace she ultimately brings. Make it last, because as Nanny McPhee herself said, “When you want me but no longer need me, I must go. It’s rather sad, really, but there it is.”

ILLY:

15 YEARS COVERING STUDENT AFFAIRS

By Harriette Boucher

While your time here may come and go, a few things will remain. Glass will litter the streets, Uni will increase your fees by the maximum allowable amount, and Hamish McNeilly will be there to cover it all.

Through all the riots and revolutions that Dunedin students have staged, Stuff reporter Hamish McNeilly has seen it all. Fortunately for us, he was sober the whole time, allowing him to recall every last detail.

Hamish is the sole Stuff reporter in Dunedin and a former Otago University student. He returned to the city in 2008, this time with his notepad, a camera and, in my mind, a fedora. Despite a decade and a half of covering the anarchic happenings of North Dunedin, he has lived to tell all the tales. From his front row seat, Hamish has borne witness to the evolution of student life over some pivotal years. 15 years of Castle Street escapades, 15 years of student protests, 15 St Patrick’s Days, and a constant stream of drunk and disorderly behaviour. Perhaps journalism is the perfect job for those sixth-year breathers who can’t seem to leave.

He started university in 1994 without a clear career path in mind. After consulting a career advisor who suggested nothing more than to "study what you're interested in", he decided to major in History. Hamish describes himself as “one of those middle-aged men who watches war documentaries and things about the Roman Empire,” so, naturally, I asked how often he thinks about the Roman Empire. Not so much, apparently, but he thinks “about Nazis all the fucking time.”

Hamish’s career in journalism started off at the Otago Daily Times and eventually led him to Stuff in 2015, and throughout his time he says student shenanigans have attracted global attention. With the yearly diaspora of Otago students, there are hundreds of thousands of ex-students who had their best years of life in Dunedin and are still connected with the city, now scattered about the globe. Hamish notes that even though this audience is often now overseas in places like London or New York, they remain captivated by some good ol’ student culture.

Many things have changed over the years. With the rise of cellphones, Hamish has seen a shift in attitudes towards his work. Students are much more “conscious of their image”, and the potential for something to impact it. Hamish said amongst the most prolifically conscious were law students, who he said are constantly telling him that he can’t take their photo in a public place. “Well, actually, we can,” says the professional journalist with 15 years’ experience. “If people are doing something sort of semi-private you ask their permission but if they’re throwing bottles and shit, absolutely you can.” Just FYI.

Hamish also feels that we, the students, have gotten tame. During his first year of reporting in Dunedin, the Undie 500 riots were still going strong. He recalls some of his early experiences, where he witnessed police equipped with riot gear and police dogs against a backdrop of mid-air hurled bottles: a sight he hasn't witnessed in a considerable while.

The fresher toga party also appears to have lost some savagery. Hamish reminisced about the barbaric “toga

parade riot”, which once resembled a surge of white-clad students fucking up the streets. “I was in the Octagon and I looked down, it was like a fucking tsunami had gone out. I saw nothing in the street. Then I squinted and saw this tidal wave of white-clothed students throwing shit in the air [headed my way].” He reckoned that the ensuing hedonism stemmed from the bullying that first-year students endured from their second-year counterparts, mostly through the throwing of eggs. Hamish recalls a moment when a young, red-haired first-year approached him saying something along the lines of “we are going to fuck this city up.” Fortunately for George Street, no one can afford to throw eggs anymore.

As well as the apparent end of student rioting, Hamish has noticed a change to other areas of student life. “Loads of those orientation things are event controlled and ticketed, Hyde Street is completely different.”

There has also been a shift in student protest culture. In his own student days, the focus was primarily on protesting tuition fees and student loans. Today, the University’s budget cuts have taken centre stage. “I thought it was quite telling a few years ago when I broke a story about them introducing CCTV in the student quarter and students really didn’t give a fuck anymore. They’d go, ‘It's good that we don't get burgled’ so there was a political sort of change happening.”

When asked what his favourite thing to report on was, Hamish said anything spontaneous or funny: “I just like the light-hearted, funny jobs, to be honest.” His favourite story was back in 2016 about two girls who were trying to fundraise money (for themselves). They would hold sausage sizzles at their flat and sell combo deals. You could get a sausage, a drink, and a dart for $5. Dunedin just ain’t the same, I suppose. That would run you at least $15 today.

Hamish also recalled a time some students attempted to replicate the famous Spanish tomato-throwing festival known as 'La Tomatina' right on Leith Street. “A couple of kids turned up with cans of whole peeled tomatoes and threw it at each other and that was basically it,” he said.

He also enjoys writing about the squalor students live in. When asked which was the worst flat he had ever seen, his answer was, unsurprisingly, Death Star. “It was just fucking feral, it was the worst one I’ve ever seen.” Critic can confirm that yes, it was (and still is as far as we’re aware), feral.

Despite 15 years of seeing the best and worst of student life, Hamish seems to have a soft spot for students, the University, and its role in Dunedin life. “There’s a sector of the Dunedin population that doesn't realise that if we didn’t have students, we’d be Invercargill.”

While your time here may come and go, a few things will remain. Glass will litter the streets, Uni will increase your fees by the maximum allowable amount, and Hamish McNeilly will be there to cover it all.

The Dummy's Guide to Travelling to Hawai’i

Welcome to the Dummy's Guide to Travelling to Hawai’i, where we'll show you how to turn a dream vacation into a nightmare of confusion, frustration, and inefficiency. Who needs simplicity and relaxation when you can make everything needlessly complex? It's time to discuss the epidemic of over-tourism and the astonishing fact that only dumbasses seem to be visiting Hawai'i during this period of crisis. Yes, you heard it right: only the most obtuse among us are flocking to this island paradise instead of practising our "aloha" from afar.

Hawai'i, a place known for its stunning natural beauty, rich cultural heritage, and unique ecosystem, is facing an existential crisis. The islands are under siege by hordes of tourists who have seemingly thrown reason out of the window to embark on a journey of relentless Instagram posts and clueless wandering. So, if that sounds like you, here are our top tips for a totally groovy time in paradise!

Nā Sky (Ngāti Hine, Ngāti Wai)

First thing’s first: ignore those conventional travel tips that suggest visiting during the off-peak season to save money and avoid crowds. Why not go during the most expensive and crowded time of year, like Christmas or summer break? Be sure to book your flights and accommodations at the very last minute, ensuring you pay top dollar for everything - not that any of that money goes to the hosts.

Step 1: Choose the worst time to visit Step 2: Pack everything but the kitchen sink

When packing for your trip, remember to overpack like a pro. You never know when you might need three different snorkel sets, five pairs of shoes or that sweater for the "chilly" Hawai'ian nights (spoiler alert: they don't exist). But don't stop there – leave ample room for impulse souvenir purchases by stuffing your suitcase with a smorgasbord of unnecessary gadgets and at least ten bottles of sunscreen. Who cares if the hotel provides most of what you need? A mini-fridge, coffee maker, and your Nutribullet are absolutely essential for that perfect piña colada experience in your room. After all, who needs the freedom of mobility and a lightweight suitcase when you can have the reassurance of knowing you're fully equipped for any and every unlikely scenario? Besides, if you pack too much junk, you can just leave anything unwanted behind - like buying a cheap tent for a festival so you don’t have to bother packing it up when you leave. It’s not like the islands are running out of room.

Step 3: Disregard the local culture

Because who even has time to understand Hawai'i's local customs and traditions, right? It's much more fun to barge into sacred places, mispronounce Hawai'ian words, and disrespect the locals by assuming they're just there to serve you. After all, what better way to immerse yourself in a new culture than to do the exact opposite? Don't forget to haggle relentlessly in local markets while wearing your "I Heart Hawai'i" t-shirt, as if your souvenir shopping experience wouldn't be complete without asserting your dominance as a bargain-hunting tourist. And when you encounter a language barrier, just speak louder and slower in English; surely the locals will appreciate your creative communication techniques. But it doesn't stop there. Dumbasses are also notorious for their complete disregard of local culture. Instead of immersing themselves in the rich Hawai'ian heritage, you could opt for inauthentic lū’aus where they feast on spam musubi and pineapple pizza (yes, that's a thing). They butcher the pronunciation of “aloha” and wear cheap leis while imagining they've cracked the code of Hawai'ian authenticity #whitetrash.

Step 4: Drive like a maniac

Renting a car? Perfect! Drive like you're auditioning for a Fast and Furious movie. Ignore speed limits, road signs and that annoying left turn signal. Bonus points for parking in no-parking zones, blocking driveways, and taking up two spaces in crowded lots. Remember, you're not just a tourist; you're a road warrior, leaving your tire marks of defiance on the island's highways and byways.

Step 5: Get lost on purpose

Exploring the island is overrated. Wander aimlessly, ignore GPS directions and make sure to hike off the beaten path without any provisions. Don't inform anyone of your whereabouts, and be sure to blame Google Maps when you eventually need a rescue mission. It's all part of the charm of this tropical paradise, where every wrong turn leads to a new, unexpected adventure. Who knew paradise was so taxing?

Step 6: Eat at chain restaurants

Why try local cuisine when you can stick to the familiar? Opt for fast-food chains you can find back home. Who needs the thrill of savouring fresh seafood caught from the crystal-clear Hawai'ian waters or indulging in the exotic, aromatic flavours of the islands when you can have yet another round of the quintessential burgers and fries? Go ahead, miss out on the culinary treasures that Hawai'i has to offer, and stick with the same old fast-food favourites - because nothing says "adventure" like chicken nuggets.

Step 7: Document everything for social media

Your vacation isn't real until you've posted every detail on social media. Spend more time taking photos than actually experiencing the beauty around you. Bonus points for using heavy filters and hashtagging every word in your captions. Prioritise your online presence over in-person experiences, because in today's world, it's not about living in the moment; it's about crafting the perfect digital version of it. After all, what's the point of a vacation if it's not expertly curated for your followers' envy and approval?

Step 8: Stay somewhere that reminds you as much as possible of home

Now, let's talk about accommodations. The dumbasses prefer staying in massive resorts that resemble, well, exactly where they came from: complete with golf courses, water parks, and oversized meals. Why experience the natural beauty of Hawai'i when you can be herded like cattle through a buffet line right next to the fried chicken and mac 'n’ cheese station? Breadfruit? Get real.

Congratulations, you've successfully turned your dream vacation into a travel nightmare! While others may come to Hawai'i to relax and enjoy the natural beauty and culture, you've shown that you can make it as complicated and unenjoyable as possible. Remember, the key to being a dummy traveller is to ignore all common sense and make sure you have plenty of stories to tell about how you did everything wrong. Aloha, and good luck!

By Fox Meyer

Maybe you’ve been to Franz Josef. Maybe you’re one of the million tourists that pass through the town of 500 every year. Maybe you’ve booked helicopter rides to the receding glacier and taken strolls through the primordial forest. Maybe you’ve used the petrol station, completely unaware that - technically speaking - filling up your car was the riskiest thing you did all day.

Thrill seekers are everywhere in Franz, to the point where bartenders used to “free-pour shots into open mouths like Cancun”, according to some guy I met in a spa pool. And to take care of those tourists, many students work in Franz over summers where they’ll invariably end up at Glacier Motors, the township’s only petrol station.

This station directly straddles the Alpine Fault. True, it’s hard to take a walk in New Zealand without stepping on a fault, but this one is especially easy to find; stretching 600-kilometres along the Southern Alps, it’s the longest straight line on the surface of the planet. It’s visible from space. And of the thousands of faults in our country, only the Alpine Fault ruptures with its signature blend of regularity and intensity. Sudden, violent movement. Eight metres of horizontal displacement. One and a half metres vertical. A magnitude 8 event every 300 years - or less. There’s an extensive and detailed record, and the last rupture occurred in 1717. Tick tock.

Glacier Motors’ two 50,000-litre petroleum tanks are right in the firing line. The metal filling valve caps in the forecourt are less than a single stride from the subtle rise made by the Fault in the pavement. To make things worse, the fault’s rise means the station is at the top of a small hill, so if the tanks were breached, any spillage would run downhill throughout the main street. And if the spill were to ignite, according to a local fireman, there would be “no way” to put it out. The town’s volunteer fire station (essentially a church and two garages) are on the other side of the fault from the rest of town.

The station is on the main road through town, unmissable as you head either direction on State Highway 6. To passersby, the only scary thing about it is the price of petrol. Of course, nobody can say exactly what will happen here; the fuel might not ignite at all. But when I last spoke to Otago’s own Caroline Orchiston, the foremost expert on Alpine Fault community resilience, I gave her a list of locations to be at during an Alpine Fault rupture, including a Wellington office, a Christchurch highway, in the Westland bush or in a Dunedin flat, asking her to rank them by where she’d like to be. Filling up at the Franz Josef petrol station ranked second worst, losing only to a boat in the middle of Milford Sound. That’s because when the Alpine Fault goes, landslides can trigger great, sloshing waves in the fiord.

Franz Josef is defined by natural hazards, so much so that it’s a stop on the University of Otago’s fourth-year Geology field trip. In my year, we paused outside of town to examine the oversteepened hillside behind it. Our lecturer pointed out how there was enough material on the calving face to bury the entire town and everyone in it, if it were to fail. He pointed out how LiDAR imagery shows what are basically geologic stretch marks on the top, evidence of creeping failure. He pointed out how (although it’s survived the last several ruptures) an earthquake could loosen the whole face with no warning. But we’re risk-takers, too. After we joked about how we’d better not all jump at once, we headed into town to fill up at the petrol station and then sleep directly under the hill. Because what are the odds, right?

The odds of a major quake caused by an Alpine Fault rupture are 75% in the next 50 years. 100% eventually. Dr Tom Robinson, from the University of Canterbury, recently told Stuff that the rupture will be “the largest earthquake in recorded history.” The odds of when and where are pretty clear, but that’s where any semblance of certainty ends. Predicting what this earthquake will do to the landscape, especially in the case of Franz Josef, gets murky. For example, there’s a chance landslides could dam the Waiho River and unleash a catastrophic flood. The odds are low, but still uncomfortably possible. The odds of slope failure are even lower, but even more catastrophic if they were realised.

When the Alpine Fault ruptures, which it will, we’ll be hearing lots of stories. Many of them will be about hope: about strangers helping strangers, about fast response times and a nationwide effort to build back better. Some of those stories, undoubtedly, will be about tragedy. But at least one of these stories will be particularly perplexing. It’ll be the story asking why the hell 100,000 litres of petroleum was sitting on our most notorious fault line.

The people in Franz Josef aren’t stupid. Except maybe for the guy in the spa pool who also told me that Jacinda was causing earthquakes. But besides him, Franz Josef probably boasts some of the highest Alpine Fault literacy in the country. Caches of post-quake survival supplies are buried across town. Multi-story buildings are rarer than clean boots. Franz has more helicopter pilots than police officers and a population that can take care of themselves and their neighbours. After all, who would you rather be stuck with: a tenth-floor bureaucrat who has never seen a deer or a Franz Josefite who could skin one with her eyes closed?

Back in 2021 when I talked to Wayne Costello, the operations manager for the Department of Conservation (DOC) in South Westland, he made it very clear just how ready the town is. He outlined all the preparation, all the community training, all the backup supplies, all the years of anticipation waiting for “the big one”. He’s right, the town is far more aware of what’s coming than anywhere else I’ve ever been. And he made a point that I’ve heard several times in my interviews on this subject: that the best things in life come with some risk, and all we can do is prepare. I can’t argue with that.

You're more likely to get in an accident on your way to this petrol station than you are to be there during an earthquake. But then again, when you get in that car, you take measures to ensure that if the worst did happen, you’d be in the best scenario possible. You buckle your seatbelt. You don’t look at your phone. You watch out for others on the road. You move the 100,000 litres of petroleum off the imminent earthquake risk. The last time I visited Franz Josef, I arrived in the pouring rain. About half an hour out of town, as I limped along the winding road, I passed a local speeding the other way. He was going about twice as fast as me, lights off, wipers down, seemingly blind to the lashing rain. Don’t look up.

You’d think the resource consent for the proposed petrol station would have been a good start, but you’d be wrong. The 1994 document does not mention the Alpine Fault at all, or earthquakes in general. The first six points of discussion are mostly concerned with aesthetics and disturbing the peace; only at point eight does it get close to mentioning risk. It reads: “It is not anticipated that there will be anything unsuitable about the proposal site.” And this isn’t the only petrol station on a fault line; Wellington has at least two (albeit atop reclaimed land, which could be a protective factor). But in the risk-dominated Franz Josef, it’s the only hazard that didn’t need to be there.

Every single resident I’ve talked to has not exactly been stoked about the situation. They told me that if money wasn’t an issue, the station would be moved. But they weren’t the ones who paid to build it, so they didn’t want to be the ones who had to pay to move it. When I last spoke to the manager of the station, Ryan, in 2021, he had only recently taken over operation of the Glacier Motors site following a change in ownership. And the community already has a long list of other woes: the flood-prone Waiho River is an expensive enemy and tourism is under threat thanks to the shrinking glacier. Publicising the issue too much could scare away visitors.

So, pun intended, whose fault is this? More importantly: who foots the bill? Is it up to the station’s new owners? Or the Council who signed off in ‘94? Or the government in Wellington? It’s genuinely not clear. But what is clear is that, one way or another, one day that petrol station will be moving. It’s just a question of moving it on our terms, or on the Fault’s.

Formal, finite action was proposed in the years following the Christchurch earthquake sequence. When attention shifted back to the Alpine Fault line which, unlike Darfield’s, was explicitly and long-ago mapped, with a regular recurrence interval and ample historical data, a group of scientists got together to propose a Fault Avoidance Zone (FAZ) for Franz Josef. The 200-metrewide strip followed the surface trace of the fault through town and encompassed 30 properties, including the petrol station, a motel, a DOC lot, and the police building. If adopted, no new buildings could be built in the Zone and existing buildings would be incentivised to start moving away.

Dr. Virginia Toy, one of the scientists behind the FAZ, says this has happened before. In the ‘60s, planners encouraged movement away from the troublesome Waiho River, down towards where you can now find the pub and the Top 10 Holiday Park. Most of the main area resisted, but it was a win nonetheless. “They did eventually help the motel and holiday park on the other side of the river move through financial support,” Virginia explains. In the interest of preserving not just human lives but a nationallysignificant tourism asset, “that’s what is needed elsewhere in Franz: central government needs to support the changes.”

The proposed FAZ caused an immediate uproar. Landowners, who were facing the direct financial consequences of the Zone, felt they had been left out of the discussion. Many felt they literally could not afford to worry about the fault, and when the FAZ was eventually adopted in 2015, the impact was indeed significant. Property records for 1 Condon Street, home of the Glacier Motors station, show that the value of the land dropped from $950,000 in 2015 to just $475,000 the following year. It still hasn’t recovered, sitting at $710,000.

Banding together in the name of their financial futures, a group of residents pulled what local Cushla Jones called their “only trump card” and threatened to take the Westland District Council to Environmental Court. The Council, split on opinion and low on resources, conceded. After six years of debate but within less than a year of activation, the FAZ was repealed. Local Helen Lash said she could “see the stress of this etched in people's faces… it’s taken a hell of a toll.” Dianne Ferguson, who owns the Alpine Glacier Motel, told reporters at the time, "We're pleased with the result. We feel this is the point where we should have started from—talking with each other —instead of taking six years and expensive legal action to get here.”

Councillor Gray Eatwell was “gutted” by the decision. He said that “it's not a matter of the people. It's a matter of what's right. If we don't acknowledge one of the world's best-known faults, I don't think it would make us very professional at all.” He didn’t last much longer on the Council. His fellow Councillor Durham Havill disagreed, saying that preparing for every risk eventually becomes untenable: “You can’t plan for everything.” He reckoned that “there are fault lines all around the country. When it eventuates is bad luck… We could have a tsunami, we just don't know.” But we do know. We know this fault line better than nearly any other on the planet. The Council’s planning and environment manager Jim Ebenhoh raised the question of post-disaster funding priorities, and how much Wellington would shell out for a community who had explicitly voted against safety measures. Either way, the conversation was soon overshadowed by something spreading overseas. As New Zealand’s borders closed to tourists, economic strife had arrived in a different form.

For decades, Franz Josef has been Tourism New Zealand’s literal poster child. It’s front-page on the websites, it’s in all the ads. The tourist dollar, in turn, has offered ample incentive to settle in the township at the toe of one of the country’s most accessible glaciers, even today when that glacier has retreated so far up its navel valley you need a helicopter to get to it. And that visitor spending pumps money into the government’s coffers too.

When Covid hit, that income dried up. The 2021 Development West Coast Covid Impact Survey tallied some bleak numbers: 16 businesses closed, 23% of people gone, volunteer emergency services gutted. Without further assistance, the survey said, 84 percent of jobs would be lost, 67 percent of businesses would close, and at least 31 percent of people would leave the community “in the next six months”. Though one survey respondent was hopeful, saying in true West Coast style, “We’ll start a generator, kill an animal if anyone is getting low on food, helicopter companies will pick up supplies at their own cost, we’ll check in on the neighbours and we’ll still be here in a couple of weeks.”

Despite Covid, despite a recession, despite an utterly bizarre High Court fraud case involving their septic system and an Auckland cake baker, the town has persevered, and the tourists have returned. Business is better, the petrol is flowing again. Someone recently rated the station four out of five stars on Google: “It’s got petrol!” (The station also, incredibly and delightfully, still stocks Kodak film). And so a new plan, Te Tai o Poutini, has been proposed for increasing the resilience of the entire West

Coast. Submissions are open now, but 1 Condon Street is still listed as a settlement zone. Simon Bastion, CEO of the Westland District Council, said that “there has been no formal request for the petrol station to relocate,” but that the new plan is “revisiting the zoning within Franz Josef alongside the natural hazards.”

Perhaps tellingly, one of the last times a zone was listed as high risk, it didn’t end well. Virginia tells me that a few years ago, signs were put up outside a hotel on the edge of town warning of sudden flood risk. Under the cover of darkness someone apparently took an axe to the signs, disposing of the pieces in the very river it warned of.

When I try to talk about Glacier Motors on the coast, people baulk. They don’t want “more doom and gloom”, and they don’t think their fault line is unique in a country full of them. A lot of them are more interested in asking me if the station’s pies are any good (“they’ve got a solid mince and cheese,” according to someone who passed through in July). I’ve been told, more than a few times, that we have bigger problems to worry about. And that’s true. But bigger problems require big solutions. We can’t move the Nelson Hospital or the Clyde Dam, both of which straddle faults. We can’t move all of Auckland off its volcanos or the entire city and port of Wellington away from earthquake danger. On a global scale, we won’t solve climate change overnight, either. It’s too late for that. Speaking of sitting on a fuse.

But the reason I think this particular risk is so fascinating and so worth talking about is that it’s not like Wellington, or global warming, or pandemics. There’s a single, simple, relatively-cheap solution: move the petrol station. Or, at the very least, put the tanks above ground. And don’t make the locals pay for it. It would involve interrupting service to the only station in the area, yes. Costs would surely exceed estimates, yes. It would be a major pain in the ass, yes. But it would also be one small thing to prove we can be forward-thinking, that we care about the impact today will have on tomorrow. In the face of so many insurmountable crises, it would be nice to have a win.

Planning Your Course to Make the Best Apology Video

By Peyton Black

Are you having trouble with your online image? Finding that your comment section is more shame than fame? If you’ve done something to get yourself cancelled it can be hard to navigate the digital experience. That’s why a tried-and-true method to cleanse yourself of all wrongdoing is the classic apology video.

Think Logan Paul apologising for filming the suicide forest. David Dobrik posting “let’s talk” while turning off the comments. Colleen Ballinger’s ukulele-filled apology from hell. That sort of thing. It literally can’t go wrong because deep down, you’re perfect. You just made a little oopsie and now people are thinking about it a little too much. Nothing that some crocodile tears won’t fix.

Luckily for you, you’re a student at Otago, so you have everything you need right at your fingertips. Be sure to take the following papers if you ever want to succeed online.

Essential Classes:

English131

Controversial

Classics

You will obviously need to take an English paper. Writing a convincing script is important in order to convey your message, whether that be rage or regret. Sometimes both! This paper is perfect for you. It tackles classics: controversial classics. Paradise Lost, Lolita, and The Picture of Dorian Gray, just to name a few. You’ll need to learn how the greats did it before you. Heck, in a way, these books are the original apology videos. They tackle heavy themes that society typically doesn’t like to talk about. They present their ideas effectively and dare to be so bold in sharing their otherwise diabolical perspectives… sound familiar? This class is essential and must be paid attention to at all costs. If you really seek to write the most baller of YouTube apology videos, then your only hope is Oscar Wilde.

Theatre151

Improvisation

Improv! Obviously, improv is a must. The power to cry on command is possibly the greatest gift one could have. It's not enough in this day and age to just look down sadly. No: you need tears. Delicious, salty tears. Will anyone really be mad at you if you sob like a child? Exactly. In fact, theatre really should be your major.

In order to succeed in your message, one needs to know how to structure and design your video from top to bottom. From thumbnails to music to editing, you need to know how to make your message carry. Your crocodile tears will only take you so far. This class teaches you about the power the media carries through our society. Specifically, though, social media. Jackpot! This course acts as a how-to on making a certain audience feel the way you need them to feel. Like for example… a baller title? Think back to any of the great apology videos. So many memorable titles like, “Hi”, “Let’s talk”, “I’m sorry” and my personal favourite, “I think I’ve messed up”. Only true masters of media could possibly arrange such a collection of words. With a working knowledge of media and all her mysteries, you could get away with murder. Maybe some already have.

Media102 Media, Power, Society Psychology204 Justice, Race and Class

Last but not least: Psychology, of course. Think of any great figure in history. Patrick Bateman, Annie Wilkes, Billy Loomis, these people got it. They understood how to prey on people's emotions, and to convince people of their overwhelming innocence. Of course, you didn’t do anything wrong to begin with. But just in case, the mind is a powerful thing. It is your job as a respectable YouTuber, to know how to control them in mass numbers. Just look at that Markiplier, do you think anyone would actually watch that stuff on their own accord? Get real.

It’s simple, really. If you take these papers you will be well and truly on your way to the best YouTube apology video this world has ever seen. Side note, though, you may want to try taking some singing lessons, and maybe a bit of guitar on the side. It’s not essential, but studies have shown that people are very easily swayed by song and dance.

weeklyspecials

SOMETHING TO WATCH

Tom Sandoval’s apology video on YouTube

A raw, emotional, genuine display of social media in the golden era of the early 2010s. If your birth year ends later than 00, consider yourself lucky that your tween fantasies and fuck-ups have not been immortalised on the internet in the way that some of us are unlucky enough to have been stuck with. Without context, this video means nothing. But with context, it means everything.

SOMETHING TO READ

Snow Crash by Neil Stephenson

Concerned about augmented reality taking over the world? Read this to have an even deeper crisis. In a dystopian cyberpunk society where franchises are king, a crazy religious cult leader gets his hands on a neurolinguistic virus which, when people are infected, turns them into his mindless drone and shit gets crazy. Important note: Mark Zuckerberg’s favourite book. Terrifying.

SOMETHING TO LISTEN TO

Brown noise

It’s like white noise, but has a lower, deeper quality. Brown noise has accumulated a cult following for its ability to make some people’s brain go quiet. It could be bullshit, but placebo works as well as anything and exams are coming up and you’re feeling screwed so, fuck it, may as well give it a go.

SOMETHING TO GO TO

Errick’s Venue

There’s a new music venue on the block. Formerly the NewNewNew Brewery, the new space is filling a much-needed hole in the local arts scene after successive closures of venues around town. Their website describes the building as having soaring eight metre high ceilings, rustic beams, and washed brick walls - everything you need.

SOMETHING TO SUPPORT

Your mate who has just been initiated

It’s flat initiation season. Chances are that if you’re a fresher you’ll have a friend or a friend of a friend who has just been initiated. If not, you’ll be able to spot the poor buggers passing you by in your hall by their unfortunate new haircut worn as a “badge of honour” or the stricken look in their eyes. They’ve been through hell, if hell were filled with boozefuelled beatings, vomit, and eggs. Give ‘em a hug for us.

SOMETHING TO CANCEL

The wind

Spring is here, and while I am grateful that the days are longer, it’s gradually getting warmer, and the flowers are out, I’m also too fucked off at the gale force wind to appreciate all these things. MetService is full of flashing warning signs over the >100km/ hr winds. Please go away and give the poor cherry blossoms a chance to stay on the trees longer than a day. I almost got blown into the harbour walking into Unipol the other day along with the petal-casualties.

Formed in 2020, Fool of Stars started out as a high school dream pop band. The current line up, Olive Ward (guitar/vocals), Max White (drums), and Jacob Smith (organ), came together to enter Bring the Noise in 2022. Following a warm reception from friends and strangers, they decided to record their debut album, set to be released in early December. Critic Te Ārohi caught up with Olive and Max to talk about the band and their upcoming album, The Everything Under Your Feet.

Olive and Max are both multi-instrumentalists: besides the guitar and vocals, Olive is also a talented violinist, and Max also plays the keys outside of the drums. Last year they made it to the Bring the Noise finals, standing out from the other Ōtepoti bands with their ‘80s indie synth rock sound. But translating the sound in their head onto stage can be a challenge, they tell Critic. “We recorded a lot of layers of guitar. About fifteen was the most on one track,” Olives says. “It is hard to do that live – for obvious reasons.”

Fool of Stars steers away from the Dunedin Sound as they try to be their own thing. “It takes influences from shoegaze as well as dream pop, but it’s not as abrasive,” Olive says. She cites The Cure and The War on Drugs as major influences on the album. Max shares: “Production-wise, The Smashing Pumpkins and Cocteau Twins was what we were going for.” Olive adds: “People always tell me that we sound like Mazzy Star because they are a dream

pop band with a female vocalist. They always just compare you to that.”

Despite the comparisons, Fool of Stars manage to separate themselves from other bands with the fine details of production. “We try not to make the songs sound crowded,” says Olive. “It’s important for me to scale things back, but I consider it a maximalist album.” Olive wrote the earliest track on the album at the end of 2019. They started recording in November 2022 and finished in May of this year.

The album consists of eight songs and spans 42 minutes. The eerie organs and many layered guitars create a glistening atmosphere that took some time to perfect, going through the mixing and mastering process twice to get it exactly right. Fool of Stars are releasing the album independently. Being their first release, it’s been a learning process for the band. “It was mainly through word of mouth, trying to figure it out,” Olive says of the experience. “I feel like I know more now than I did before and I would be better at doing this kind of thing again.”

Fool of Stars will be playing a single release gig before releasing their debut album in December. You can follow them on Instagram @fool.of.stars for updates on their upcoming gig and their debut album, The Everything Under Your Feet.

Get your hard hats and your high-vis vests on. For a hazard-free gig, you can count on No Danger: an eclectic six-piece band that play sets with covers ranging from Black Sabbath to the Spice Girls, alongside their own originals, one of which they’re planning to officially release soon. Critic Te Ārohi caught up with the band to talk OSHA.

“What’s not dangerous?” says Blake, of their signature stage look. The band are known for donning high-vis at their Pint Night performances, which they did for their first gig at U-Bar as a joke on No Danger. “I think we all decided it was lame. Then did one gig without it and everyone was annoyed,” says Robbie. No Danger are Lucas (bass), Blake (vocals), Will (guitar), Alex (keys/ harmonica/melodica), Robbie (drums), and Hamish (trumpet). Will, Alex, Robbie, Hamish, and Luke met in their first-year hall, while Blake and Will went to high school together.

Many of the group first started playing music together for fun at their hall. “We were always thinking throughout the whole of second-year, we gotta get a band together,” says Alex. Come last May, in their third year, Will surprised the guys by signing them up to open for the Audio Visual Dropkicks after chatting with Kaia of the band. “I essentially just lied to her,” Will recalls of the situation. “Like, ‘Yeah, we can open for you guys. Sure, why not?’ And I hadn't even messaged these guys.” They had just over a month to prepare for the gig after this revelation, and it was about three

weeks before the gig that Blake joined the band.

“We take well-known songs, then change them up. Make them a bit weird,” says Robbie of their approach to covers. Alex recalls when they played a gig at Rewind, the venue owner doubted their setlist, this time containing some Michael Bublé and DnB: “He said looking at our setlist beforehand, ‘This is not gonna work, there's no way this fits together.’ But afterwards, he was like, ‘Yeah, it just does.’”

No Danger’s originals are also as varied in range as their covers. Punk, funk, ska, window shopping songs, and some “politically charged lyrics” are all on the table for the group. “We’re all quite different people, so there’s a lot of different influences,” says Alex. They’ve also got an upcoming single in the works, ‘Roll On By’. Will, who led the songwriting on this track, had two concepts in mind during the process. “My main main intention was to try and make a parody of a surf rock song. Or make a surf rock song, but it's the old-timey classical kind of surf rock song.”

You can catch No Danger at the final Pint Night of the year, October 11 at U-Bar, playing alongside DownsideUp, Black Sale House, and Evo. Keep up with No Danger on socials (@no_ danger_dunedin). And to No Danger, Critic has been wondering: do you cover ‘The Safety Dance?’

FETA, SPINACH AND LEMON STUFFED CHICKEN BAKE

And all of a sudden, we’re at the last recipe. It's been good team, thanks for looking at the pictures and never trying a recipe! It's not too late though, try this. You'll like it.

INGREDIENTS:

CHICKEN

2 chicken breasts

Half block of feta

¼ cup spinach, diced

Juice of a lemon wedge

Olive oil

VEGGIES

1 can of chickpeas

½ head broccoli, chopped

1 large carrot sliced

1 cup edamame beans

½ lemon, wedged Olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

YOGHURT SAUCE

1 cup greek yogurt

¼ cup spinach, diced

Squeeze of lemon juice

Drizzle of maple syrup, honey or a pinch of sugar

Crumble the feta in a small bowl and add the diced spinach. Squeeze in some lemon juice and give it a good mix with your hands (give them a good wash after). This is the stuffing.

On a chopping board, cut each chicken breast in half so they are decent width chunks. Cut a slice down the centre of these halfs and add in the stuffing. Heat pan to medium heat and sear the chicken in oil for 2-3 minutes each side. Add the breasts to a baking tray.

Add the chickpeas, broccoli, carrot, edamame beans and lemon wedges to the tray. Drizzle olive oil and add 1/3 cup water to the bottom of the tray. Cook for 30 or until the veggies are cooked. Check the chicken is cooked. If there is any leftover feta and spinach stuffing add it to veggies and mix together.

Add a dollop of yoghurt dressing on top.

Serve for four and enjoy!

BOOZE

BY ALBERT EINSTEINLAGER

Shoutout Noisy. Shoutout ADJØ. Shoutout Albar.

New Zealand needs to change the way we drink. We drink excessive amounts of alcohol and know no weekend tradition other than binge drinking. This behaviour is extremely dangerous, and it’s projected that if we continue drinking at the rate we currently are, by 2028 half the population will have died of boredom.

For a country that prides itself on its drinking prowess, we drink like a bunch of fucking losers. Pre-drinks, town, and kick-ons?

KGBs, Speight’s Summit, and goon? How utterly boring. If I have to spend another Saturday drinking a box in some guy's living room while we take turns queuing Family Guy clips on YouTube, I may just quit drinking entirely. My suggestion for change isn’t drinking less, it’s drinking differently.

One alternative: Schnapps. Great word, great alcohol, great tradition. Take after our Danish brethren, who undoubtedly have a better drinking culture than our own, and pour out a bottle of vodka over some fruit in a sterilised container, then forget about it in a dark place for a couple of weeks. You will be rewarded with a litre of brightly coloured, uniquely flavoured alcohol and a great reprieve from the monotony of RTDs, beer, and wine. Serve it in fancy little glasses alongside a meal, have it with a biscuit, or use it in a cocktail. You can do whatever the hell you want with it, just know that it’s yours.

Finding somewhere to drink other than your friend's backyard is difficult. You’re not exactly encouraged to walk around town with

a box in one hand and a beer in the other. Our forefathers had an answer for this: the flask. Carrying a flask has fallen out of fashion, and while you’re likely to catch some looks pulling one out on a bus, the one place where you won’t turn any heads is at a funeral. Attend any local funeral and get hammered throughout it. You are grieving, showing support, and most importantly, fiending for a drink. It’s the one place where you will be supported for your love of tiny, metal, alcohol-filled containers. “Don’t worry mate, he would have wanted you to drink with him.” That’s a relief, because they really didn’t appreciate it at that Mormon funeral.

If you’re gonna drink all weekend you may as well get something out of it. Learn to cook by only using recipes that demand alcohol. Whatever wine doesn’t end up in your pasta sauce ends up in you. You get a full dinner, you’re culturally enriched, you’ve saved money, and you’re also drunk. It’s a different kind of pre-drinks; most of the world just calls it dinner.

As I come to the end of my university career, I haven’t fallen out of love with alcohol, but I have with the culture that surrounds it. The cyclical binge is fine, but that’s not all there is to drinking. As assignments grow more complex and you can’t handle hangovers like you used to, there’s little shame in slowing down and changing things up. I drink less, but I take more from it.

Tasting notes: Bittersweet.

Chugability: 0/10. Hard to swallow.

Hangover depression level: 0/10. It was worth it.

Overall: 10/10. Another round.

Dunedin, and think I should move elsewhere. I haven’t really made a solid group of friends, and I honestly kinda hate my degree. Is it time to hit the road?

Sincerely, A stressed second-year.

Birth Date: 11/05/2003, 11:13am Location: Auckland

SUN: MOON: RISING:

TAURUS VIRGO CANCER

Sun determines your ego and identity.

You’re steady, stubborn and love being at home. You are a hard worker, and often prioritise rationality over emotions. You love indulging in your favourite things, but tend to be lazy.

Moon determines your inner emotions and subconscious.

While you can often keep your emotions in check and remain calm, you can at times be picky or over-analytical. You are practical and have a strong sense of self.

Your rising sign is your outward persona and how you express yourself to the world.

Being a water sign, having a Cancer rising means you're sensitive and can get hurt easily. You may come across as the ‘mom’ friend, expressing maternal energy. You are very loyal to those around you, but get upset when people are less emotionally invested than you are.

Honestly, second-year is kind of the pits and I really can’t blame you for feeling the way you do. It’s difficult to transition from home life to hall life, then into flatting life where you actually have to be an adult and do things like make dinner and manage bills. Taurus and Virgo are both earth signs, meaning you value routine and sensibility – but Dunedin is probably the last place you will find either of these things. Your Cancer rising likely craves emotional connection and loyalty and, again, those are things you just won’t find in this scumfuck town. Considering you’ve stuck it out for basically all of second-year, it seems to be like you’ve given things a good shot. But given your stubborn Taurus nature, I’d suggest that these feelings aren’t going to change anytime soon. While Otago appears to be a great time to the majority, sometimes it just isn’t the right fit for the minority. There’s nothing wrong with realising a certain place isn’t for you, despite the fact you’re probably surrounded by people who think it's totally hot shit. Stressed second-year: in your heart of hearts you know the truth. I think it’s time to seek new ventures, forge new paths. Maybe switching universities, working for a while or travelling will help you figure out what you truly need. So, go forth and conquer. There is strength in knowing your true desires!

All my best wishes.

XOXO, Orbtago

HOROSCOPES

AQUARIUS PISCES ARIES

This is for everybody going through tough times. Believe me: been there, done that, but every day above ground is a good day. Remember that.

Indulgence to succumb to: Fighting with your conservative family members.

TAURUS

Stop taking things personally. Not everything is about you - unless it is about you, in which case you should take things personally.

Indulgence to succumb to: Crafting an entirely new personality.

LEO Jul 23 – Aug 22

You’ve been on a dark turn for far too long. It’s time to go for a drive and listen to some Taylor Swift. Shake it off, baby!

Indulgence to succumb to: Becoming a Swiftie.

SCORPIO Oct 23 – Nov 21

Literally NO ONE can relate to you. This statement is up for interpretation!

Indulgence to succumb to: Booking the 5pm koru hour flight so you get cheese and crackers.

Soon you’ll free from the shackles of haters and people who cramp your style. With the year coming to a close, it’s time to say fuck it! Burn bridges, scream at strangers, and act upon those intrusive thoughts.

Indulgence to succumb to: Asking out your barista crush.

You aren’t delusional, you actually just are better than everybody else. Stay cool, stay confident, stay slay.

Indulgence to succumb to: Your online shopping wish list.

VIRGO

If you’ve been thinking about monetizing a hobby, stop. It’s time to think about what really matters. People over profit, babes.

Indulgence to succumb to: Calling your mum.

It’s likely the past week's Aries full moon has gotten your knickers in a twist. Good news is soon the storm will settle, and you’ll get back to only being slightly, rather than fully, unhinged.

Indulgence to succumb to: An expensive UberEats order.

You’ve never had an original thought in your life. No offence.

Indulgence to succumb to: Acting upon your homo-erotic fantasies with the bros.

2023 has been nothing but a dumpster fire for you. But it’s your season, and your time to shine. Everyone else should shut the fuck up and bask in your limelight.

Indulgence to succumb to: Having a seance.

Normalise leaving the country when you experience a minor inconvenience. No need to deal with the trials and tribulations life throws at you.

Indulgence to succumb to: Spending your life savings on something stupid.

Big things are coming your way. But don’t be fooled, it may be a trap! A trap which will humble you and instil kindness in your soul.

Indulgence to succumb to: Starting your own podcast.

As an avid Moaningful Confessions reader, I have been recently disappointed with the lack of jaw-dropping, juicy stories. So, against my better judgement, I have sacrificed the last shred of my dignity to provide the worst, most entertaining of sex stories.

To set the scene, I had just turned 19 while he was in his mid-20s (and still living with his parents, might I add). We had been coworkers for a while before I came down to university. Before that, we had somewhat broken things off because I was too “immature” for him which I will admit broke my fragile heart, so when he came running back to me I wasn’t really taking whatever we were seriously. While at university, he would message me and tell me how much he missed me (and all that gross romantic shit) as well as that he hoped I wasn’t seeing anyone else because we were together (ummmm…. Excuse me, what? I was not aware of this arrangement) so I stopped talking to him.

It was the holidays and I was home for the summer, and after not talking to him for months, he decided to slide into my DMs asking for the ol’ classic ‘Netflix and chill’. To no one’s surprise, before I knew it I was in my car driving out to his house. Apparently I ignore all walking red flags.

We shared a bit of small talk before getting right down to business. I was horny, had failed to pull anything all year because I have zero rizz, and was long overdue for some action. He put on his ‘sex playlist’ which consisted of Daft Punk, Weezer, and Arctic Monkeys. Now, I'm not stupid. I did pay attention in sex ed (mostly) and

I was playing it safe and made sure he was wrapped up. The bedroom rodeo was getting hot and heavy as I ended up riding him cowgirl style, before everything came to a screeching (literally and figuratively) halt when he said, “Stop, it feels weird,” and I hopped off his high horse (pun very much intended, hehe).

The condom was NOWHERE to be found, that shit had disappeared to Narnia, vanished like when dads go to get some milk, evaporated into thin air. There was only one explanation: it had to be still inside me. So I use my trusty fingers to go fishing, but no luck. Well. We couldn’t just leave it up there, so this man takes a turn at trying to fish the missing condom out, and succeeds (thank god)! He then proceeds to say, and I quote, “Damn, your pussy is like a shark… nom, nom, nom.”

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS HE THINKING?!

And before I have even a moment to process the tomfoolery that just escaped his mouth, he starts singing the well-known and universally hated song known as ‘Baby Shark’. So there I was, lying butt-naked on his man’s bed after having the sex scare of a lifetime, he’d just fished a loose condom out of my womanhood, and he’s singing, “Baby Shark do-do-do-do-do, Baby Shark do-do-do-do-do, Baby Shark do-do-do-do-do, BABY SHARK!”

I was absolutely mind-blown (and not in the way I’d hoped). Needless to say, after that we decided to just go out for some food. But this is not where the story ends… no, you have been mistaken. This is where the story gets worse. We decided to go to this beachside bar. It’s sunset, we ordered our food (he paid, how

chivalrous) and found a nice seat to sit down and chat.

And I know what you're probably thinking: why didn’t I run off while I still had some dignity intact (I don’t have any dignity left obviously because I’m recounting my awful sex life to a widely read university magazine… duh)? I'm completely delulu and enjoy torturing myself by willingly avoiding walking red flags because I think, “I can fix him.”

Anyway, while we’re waiting for our food, he takes my hands in his and looks me deep in my eyes. He starts to get all gushy and romantic about how I’m the only one he has felt comfortable with, blah blah blah…

“If things were different, you would be my fiancé right now, I love you.”

What. The. Fuck. I have just turned 19, I am a university student, I am just starting out my life and he thinks I’m going to pause all that for HIM. This is coming from a man who has already lived his teen years, and just sang Baby Shark to me. I politely (and VERY awkwardly) explain that I thought we were just a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, which, needless to say, he was very upset about. I drop him back at his parents house, and upon arriving back home, I proceed to block him on everything and I haven’t spoken a word to him since (yes, I know it’s toxic, but what else was I supposed to do?!?!).

Moral of the story: Do NOT get involved with walking red flags, and stay toxic. And I will never listen to Baby Shark the same way again.

Have something juicy to tell us? Send your salacious stories to moaningful@critic.co.nz. Submissions remain anonymous.

Shark Tale

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