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Like most campus-bound creatures in May, Critic Te Ārohi has been crawling towards the pointy end of the semester, and Tabloid Issue has been the light at the end of the tunnel. Only so much of the antics can make it onto the page, so strap yourself in for an EXCLUSIVE cut of the behind the scenes tea that had notorious gossips Molly and Brad giggling and kicking their feet.
Starting with the obvious: the Liam White photoshoot. For someone who almost certainly has his eyes set on a future in politics, Liam’s shoot was wild (digital footprint, who?). Armed with a Speight’s beer-bottle-turned-flower-vase and crochet python (courtesy of Co-Culture Editor Lotto), Molly took a team of Exec members and two photographers to Smaills Beach at golden hour for some gorgeous shots. I’m told it was Liam’s idea to lose the jocks, his girlfriend holding up the OUSA tapestry as a modesty towel. While Liam mooned the surfers in the sea and smoldered at the camera, moral support Exec members got drunk on Rosé. To the person who commented in the Critic Census that they love anything “provocative”, it’s like you manifested this one.
Then we have the Daniel Leamy fan club, an article I only found out was in the works the week before Tabloid went to print. An Instagram/shrine to the Finance and Strategy Officer had popped up and everyone within OUSA had been speculating who was behind it – myself included. Then I spotted Hanna and Molly whispering between themselves like kids in the back of a classroom, catching “do we tell her” before they pulled me outside to privately spill the beans. But the tea is that what began as a lighthearted prank wound up sparking beef among the Exec, who were divided over whether it should be affiliated (spoiler: it was).
The club needed to be passed as a motion through the Executive, something that required it to be added to the agenda and voted on. In the lead-up to the vote, the Exec were split. Liam, who had proven himself a goofy guy with the scandal photoshoot, surprised us all by being seriously against the club. I’ve never seen him so grumpy. Daniel has been fully onboard, if a bit bemused by all the attention. Stella is delighted that the Exec is finally doing something “funny”. And I’ve never seen Molly more giddy than when they finally
affiliated the fan club after two meetings of bickering. We then doubled down on the tension by asking what they made of Capping Show featuring BDS-listed McDonald’s which goes against OUSA’s current political posture. Okay, we really wanted to be able to glaze our theatre kid cousins at the Capping Show but instead it glazed us in mimed cum. A total of seven Critic staff members went to the show – four to the opening night, and then three to another night to 1) speculate who the Capping-cest rumours were about, 2) taste test Wests’ chocolade (bad), and 3) see whether the review was too mean. It wasn’t. According to the Capping Show, student life is 85% sex, 10% drugs, and 5% Nazi jokes. But according to the ongoing Critic Census, almost half have sex once every few months at most, and for 10% it’s an annual affair. Branch out, guys.
Other juicy tidbits in the lead-up to Tabloid include the Exec admitting to us on the record that they lied to a student club in order to exclude them from a committee; passionate spiels about stick-shaped pretzels; being hosted at a flat’s homemade backyard mini golf course; Brad debuting his writing career as Griselda Pinot; dashing into the office to make an addition to Overheard Ōtepoti; Connor giggling to himself as he drew a satirical ad for a Liam White calendar; and everyone in the office crowding around Designer Evie’s computer to stare at a ball-gagged Salvador Dali scarecrow that was included in a Flat and Garden submission.
Please enjoy flicking through the Tabloid Issue that will hopefully provide some joy and in-lecture giggles, and give your friend an incredibly niche yet extremely wholesome compliment (courtesy of Co-Culture Editor Lotto’s wonderful brain). Shout-out to horoscope columnist Molly Smith-Soppet for her work in this one, the woman is born for salacious hijinks and silly business. Prepare for a lot of exclamation marks, capitalisations, and general fanfare. We had fun – I hope you do, too.
NINA BROWN
Hooks
Capping Show Review: The Good, The Bad, and The Nazi Jokes 6
Marine Science Students Refunded After Unfair Paper Charges Revealed 8
Exec SLASHES 82% of Referendum Questions 9
Political (In)Action Committee? 10
The Heavy Breathers Are Back, Baby 12
The Saltiest Pretzel Stick CONSPIRACY 13
LETTERS
LETTER OF THE WEEK
Howdy Editor,
Ok, to be honest with you, as any money starved Uni-student I am writing to you in hopes to win the UBS $25 voucher. Do I know what UBS is? No. Do I still want it? Absolutely. What can I say, I am human.
Regardless, now that I have your attention, I’d like to say in the few words I have left something I think needs to be said. The Critic magazine is REALLY special. The culture, the self-expression, and the bits are only some of the reasons I believe this to be true. It’s like no other student magazine I’ve seen and I love it. I could list more reasons as to why I know this to be true, but anyone who has read an issue would know how true it is. As an international student, you’ve got my approval. Keep it up team ;)
Sincerely, lil guy
Editor’s response: You know what, sometimes flattery does work
critic@critic.co.nz
FEATURES
Flat & Garden: Critic Te Ārohi’s Search for the Best of Student Living 18
CULTURE
Overheard Ōtepoti 26
OUSA President Liam White caught with his pants down? 28
Tear-away Niche Compliments 31
We Made A Fanpage for Daniel Leamy 32
Red Flag Roundup 34
COLUMNS
Critical Tribune 14
From the Archives 36
RAD Times Gig Guide 38
Local Produce 39
Debatable 41
Mi Goreng Graduate 42
Booze Review 43
OUSA Column 44
Horoscopes 45
Snap of the Week 46
Kia ora Critic,
I am not (usually) the type of person to get pissed off about incorrect grammar. This week, I will make a special exception xx. You can't add an s to the end of a Māori word to make it a plural. Taringa, like most Māori nouns, can be singular or plural. Your use of the word "taringas" has seriously ruined my day.
Ngā mihi!
Editor’s response: Okay no you’re right, I hadn’t even considered that (also look after your ears xo) Send
that music, but I love your passion. But when they say, "um I'm just not that into music" or worse, "I just listen to whatever is on the radio." Get out of here you psycho, some things just can't be overcome.
letters
Yours sincerely,
That flatmate that can never hear you cause I'm always blasting music in my ears.
Editor’s response: You're right, that's totally our bad! Thanks for emailing to keep us in check, the online version of the article has been amended <3
Dear Critic,
In light of last week's debate on whether a difference in music taste is a dealbreaker in a relationship, I think it's an obstacle that can be overcome with a carefully crafted playlist.
But one thing that is a massive red flag - People who say they "aren't that into music.” Like what do you mean you “ArEn't ThAt InTo MuSIc.”??!?!!?? I always ask someone about their music taste or favourite artists on a first date. Like, yes, tell me all about this obscure Scandinavian death metal band you are obsessed with and are going to see live next September. I mean I would HATE
LETTERS POLICY
Letters should be 150 words or fewer. The deadline is Thursday at 5pm. Get them into Critic by emailing us at critic@critic.co.nz. Letters of a serious nature directly addressing a specific group or individual will not be published under a pseudonym, except in extraordinary circumstances as negotiated with the Editor. Critic Te Ārohi reserves the right to edit, abridge, or decline letters without explanation. Frequently published correspondents in particular may find their letters abridged or excluded. Defamatory or otherwise illegal material will not be printed. We don’t fix the spelling or grammar in letters. If a letter writer looks stupid, it’s because they are.
Missing: Two of the three Critic couch cushions. Give them back, please.
MACCA MANIA!
Green Island Maccas officially opened last Tuesday
GASTRO SCARE! Selwyn put out health messages to residents recently after three students had a 24-hour bug in case it was gastro. “All recovered and well now,” says the Uni
Otago is one of the world’s top 25 beach-side universities, according to US news sites
Critic got booted from the Exec meeting last week for “strict committee” and we’re a bit salty about it
Deathstar had to have a meeting with the Proctor’s office, a DCC representative, and the Police ahead of their May 4th host to discuss risks and legal requirements
McDonald’s chicken McNuggets were spotted in a Capping Show video, which goes against OUSA’s current BDS posture that aims to remove any links to companies with links to the state of Israel. The Exec noted this was “disappointing to hear” when asked by Critic Te Ārohi
25 roles from the Massey College of Creative Arts are on the chopping block, Massive magazine reports
President Liam got water ballooned on campus last week to promote the referendum, apparently his own suggestion
SCONEFLATION! You’re not crazy, the scones on campus have gotten smaller. The University has confirmed that after noting that milk, butter and flour costs had increased, they decided to “maintain our scone price and reduce the size”
The University is introducing a "hot desking" model for staff with bookable desks in an effort to use office space across campus more efficiently. Among other staff, Vice Chancellor Grant Robertson will move out of the Clocktower and occupy a fixed desk within an open plan space at the Consumer and Applied Sciences Building later this year
Kaiawhina at Te Rangihīroa posted on social media about the importance of using the college's full name rather than shortening it to Te Rangi recently, prompting “conversation about ensuring that we whakama [validate] the name of our building and the room names within it while maintaining the mana of all of our tauira,” says the Uni
Law Camp on the chopping block? A noho marae has been proposed as an alternative to the notorious Law Camp for 2026, which has attracted low numbers over the past few years (and a fair number of “what happened at Law Camp, stays at Law Camp” rumours).
“The Faculty is working with SOULS and the other Law student representative bodies to create a more inclusive event with wider appeal,” the University told Critic
Knox College has denied claims from one high-schooler that they didn't allow prospective students to view bedrooms during Open Day
Academic Rep Stella has confirmed that closed captioning will not be included in the University’s lecture recordings policy after the DVC Māori, Jacinta, raised concerns that te reo Māori would be butchered by captioning services
Capping Show Review: The Good, The Bad, and The Nazi Jokes
Sex is funny, right?
Warning: Semi-spoilers for Capping Show included.
Critic Te Ārohi braved the rain and headed along to the opening of this year’s Capping Show, dressed to the nines (in our old hall merch – opening night was fresher-themed) and ready for a hilarious night.
The overarching story of the night – How To Train Your Fresher – was a little confusing and unfortunately fell into the classic Capping Show conundrum of a resolution happening in the last 30 seconds. No one Critic spoke to after the show seemed to know quite what was going on – though it could also have been due to the bombardment of singing that the audience faced as they tried to leave the College of Education Auditorium. That’s what happens when you put theatre kids in a room together.
Alongside the main storyline were a range of skits, some of which definitely had us in stitches. Some faves include Western Shooters, the Mermaid bit, Peanut Butter (IYKYK), and Campus Watch (which we’d love a link to xoxo). We got a real hoot out of ‘Penis!’, which actually prompted us to start our own Penis game during a gap between skits. Like an all-boys Year 9 assembly, the whole crowd joined in, which really enhanced the whole experience. Big shout out to the videography! It was fantastic, with some shots feeling professional and leaving us wondering if we were watching an excerpt from an actual movie (aside from the sometimes dark, grainy projection; a minor technical issue).
The Selwyn Ballet was fucking crack-up and a definite highlight. The washed-out lighting really emphasised their Fresher
By Hanna Varrs, Molly Smith Soppet, Iris Hehir & Ellie Bennett News Editor, Staff Writer, Contributor, & Sub-Editor // news@critic.co.nz
prepubescence, and we were genuinely impressed that they managed to stay composed the entire time and remember all the steps (more or less). “Are they a box deep?,” we murmured, watching them jolt around like Barbies being played with by a violent 6-year-old. There were aerials, leaps, and plenty of star quality; and Selwyn did brilliantly in the upkeep of a classic tradition. Bravo.
Unfortunately, Capping had its flaws this year. First off, sex is funny only sometimes. Our harshest take: the Capping cast came across like a bunch of virgins. Sex jokes every three minutes cum across as desperate and get old quickly, especially when they piggyback off of Gen-Z-esque humour that risks being dated and, quite frankly, incomprehensible to those who aren’t chronically online (i.e.people who aren’t virgins). Making reference to ‘gooning’ and ‘twinks’ had the millennial couple in front of us using the University wifi to Google shit no prestigious institute would want tracked back to them. It was just a bit of a miss, and we ended up cringing on behalf of the proud parents who had come to watch.
The show’s source material – How to Train Your Dragon – didn’t translate to student culture as well as it could have. Most notably, the titular freshers don’t speak at all; instead, they roar and fly around like actual dragons. It was a confusing choice – even a breatha who proudly declared to Critic it’s “the best movie ever made, period” didn’t get it. The film’s premise could have been adapted better if the writers hadn’t clung so tightly to the source material, and just gone with a looser storyline (and clearer stakes).
Hazing freshers was the central plot. All well and good, except there were no references to decades of infamous, welldocumented hazing scandals (no ducks? Not even an eel?). Capping Show is all about dark, shock-value humour. This was a prime opportunity to hit close to home with some in-jokes. Instead, we got shallow notions of egging, which felt like your Boomer uncle’s interpretation of what students are up to these days. While not quite Boomers, Critic hears some of the paid writers for the show are in their mid twenties. Go figure?
Ah, Sexytet. They were the stand-out of last year’s show. Maybe it was the opening-night nerves but the singing was a little off the mark this time around. Worse, they seem to have set feminism back by about 50 years. Yes, low-hanging sex jokes are their schtick (it’s in the name) and we understand the nuance in sexual liberation (Critic loves getting dicked down). But ladies, there’s more to life than just being slutty, and there’s a line between subversive and sexist. This year disappointingly landed on the latter. Their male counterpart Sextext found a better balance between slapstick and smart, with funnier material and stronger vocals (despite maybe one too many gay jokes).
And then came the Nazi bit (and a random, three minute long 9/11 joke). Capping is famous for its “no one’s safe approach” but shock humour only works when there’s substance behind it – otherwise it’s just shock for shock’s sake. This year, these jokes were a bit like a Cadbury Easter bunny; while it looks fine at first glance, underneath it’s hollow. They’re best when the audience is trusted to understand the joke themselves. Unfortunately, between destroying cardboard Twin Towers and a picture of the Capping cast as concentration camp victims, not much was left to the imagination.
What really salvaged the show from its pattern of missteps was the cheap concession stand. Armed with a chocolate fish and a Wests’ soda, Critic pushed through to the culty champagne toasting that Sextet and Sexytet do at the end of every show. We left with a rewatch of How to Train Your Dragon on the to-do list, just in case we missed any context clues.
Last year's Beezie absolutely blew How to Train Your Fresher out of the water – proof that Capping Show is worth buying a ticket for when done right. That said, the Barbenheimer phenomenon is a tough act to follow. Everything from budget and marketing to cast size and experience can affect how a show lands year to year. Kudos to this year’s team for their passion and commitment to the show; though it has its flaws, it’s still clear that a lot of effort has gone on behind the scenes to make this thing run.
For those reasons, Critic still reckons it’s worth grabbing a ticket and checking it out for yourself. You'll snort some giggles, shoot your mates the occasional can-you-believe-they-saidthat look, and help keep the show alive as it (hopefully) builds toward a stronger 132nd year.
Marine Science Students Refunded After Unfair Paper Charges Revealed
Uni accountants left cursing those meddling kids at Critic
In great news for Mako Mermaid fans-turned-students, MARI403 students have been refunded the $267.89 more they were paying for the exact same paper as ECOL411 students. This comes after Critic reported on the disparity last week, thanks to a tip-off from ECOL411 student and OUSA Academic Rep Stella Lynch.
Marine scientists are getting bank-transferred by the Uni like it’s your flattie after a Pak-n-Save run. “The University has decided to pay a rebate to this year’s MARI403 students, so they are paying the same as students taking the ECOL411 paper,” a University of Otago spokesperson told Critic a day after we broke the news. “We have communicated with the affected students and let them know that a rebate of $267.89 has been processed and is expected to be in their bank accounts.”
MARI403 students were first informed about the refund via an email sent out to the cohort last Monday. The University blamed the pricing blunder on “a combination of factors”, which revolves around the fact that MARI403 and ECOL411 were incorrectly multi-coded. The University explained that the papers did not start out as the same, multi-coded paper. ECOL411 dates back to 2011 and MARI403 was introduced in 2019. “While part of the papers have been taught together in previous years, 2025 is the first year the two papers have been wholly taught together,” they said.
By Gryffin Blockley News Reporter // news@critic.co.nz
But how did the price difference arise in the first place? It turns out this was due to the differences in the papers before multicoding in 2025. “The fees are calculated on a slightly different basis as ECOL411 began as a paper for BSc(hons) which meant its fees were set off undergraduate science fee rates, whereas MARI403 was introduced as a paper for DipSci, which meant its fees were set off the postgraduate science fee rates,” the University explained.
Stella was understandably stoked at the news. “I’m really pleased to see that the University has been proactive in remedying this mistake. I’d like to see a review of Otago’s multi-coded papers to ensure that this issue is not widespread,” she told Critic. The University seemed to share her sentiments, who are reportedly working on the procurement of a “curriculum management system” to future-proof against any further blunders. “Looking ahead, the new policy around multi-coded papers should prevent these sorts of situations from arising in the future,” said the Uni.
With approximately 22 students taking MARI403, the University has had to spend just under $6000 on rebates to the affected students. The Uni’s accountants may be feeling a similar way to you after seeing your bank account after an unhinged night out. But for the students, around one week’s rent and a couple wellearned cocktails to celebrate.
Exec SLASHES 82% of Referendum Questions
Exec largely keep their own questions and one “silly” one
After begging students to submit questions for the biannual OUSA referendum, the Exec has slashed the final list of 103 questions to just 19. Students will soon be invited to flex their democratic muscles and vote a hearty “yes”, disapproving “no” or an apathetic “I dunno” to each question from May 26 to May 28.
The OUSA Referendum is one big exercise in student outreach from the Executive. They were elected by the student body (well, 12.7% of it) last October as the representatives, and have been merrily meeting once weekly to meet the demands of their constituents – without a whole lot of “demand” involved. For instance, bold political postures have been made with nary a whisper of input outside of the Exec bullpen (lest we forget OUSA’s anti-Dominos BDS saga).
The Referendum’s quest for students’ input isn’t as simple as walking around campus with a megaphone and a clipboard. Like most Exec processes, there’s a healthy amount of jargon and bureaucratic hoops to jump through before everyone sits in one room to chat about it. First, the Exec welcomed students to submit their questions. Then Critic penned a last-minute news piece about how little advertising there was and the Exec bothered their mates and late-night Central Library studiers the night before the deadline on May 2nd.
The next step was to whittle down the questions, which proved to be somewhat controversial at the May 7th Exec meeting. After the Great Question Panic, somehow the Exec had 103 questions to cut down to just 19 – including a token “silly” one to be cool and relatable. For the better part of an hour, the Exec went one by one through the list either green-lighting or slashing as they went in what Clubs and Socs Rep Deborah dubbed to be a “ruthless” process that left her questioning if OUSA should be more proactive in helping students write their questions. Critic Te Ārohi kept note of the best green, orange, and red lights.
MOST POPULAR:
There were the typical ten questions asking whether OUSA should bring back more student bars (which students will probably vote “yes” to for the millionth time). It’s been a hot topic for years since Starters Bar took a knee, and with the recent demolition of the former bar’s corpse, students are still yearning for a place to piss-up on a budget without the dusty Sunday flat clean up. The second most popular question with three submissions asked whether OUSA should decrease the price of saunas from $6 to $4, which the cash-strapped Exec were not in favour of – every sweaty dollar counts.
TEA:
Three questions were especially juicy: whether OUSA should adopt BDS, be allowed to accept alcohol company sponsorship, and if the Exec should endorse candidates in the upcoming local body elections. The first was especially important to include in the referendum as part of the “review” of OUSA’s BDS posture (essentially removing any financial link to the state of Israel
By Nina Brown Editor // critic@critic.co.nz
committing genocide in Gaza) that caused BDS-listed Dominos to be turned away from Tent City this year, despite the franchise owner claiming to not have links to Israel. The incident landed President Liam in some hot water with some strongly-worded complaints from students, so they’re canvassing student opinion in the referendum.
The latter was off the back of a tense Exec meeting where some members were in strong opposition to a proposal that they back certain candidates in the local body elections – a meeting where Critic reported that Liam would be willing to back away from outright endorsing people. As for the alcohol sponsorship, the Exec practically salivated at the idea of being able to be the next brand ambassadors for booze companies targeting the student market – sometimes to the point of literally using a Castle Street flat as a billboard.
SILLY:
“Is it ethical for the Finance and Strategy Officer to scam people if the funds are used for betterment of student outcomes?”
Daniel Leamy will never escape this one, a call-back to that one time last year when he was scammed out of $1000 by someone posing as then-President Keegan Wells. In all seriousness, Liam asked the Exec, “Who thinks this should be the fun question that we proceed with?" It sadly didn’t make the final cut. Other rejected goofy questions include whether OUSA should have branded scarves (Liam’s personal fave), whether the President be allowed to tickle Grant Robertson once a semester (just no), and if the Exec should have a tree house. In a classic Liam-Stella clash, Liam said he didn’t think it was funny after Stella said it was her favourite question (“there can be a no boys allowed sign!”).
SLASHED:
Any questions relating to University operations, not OUSA, were immediately slashed. Students wanted free language courses, more paper towel dispensers in bathrooms, and evening shuttle services to major campus locations. The slash-spree of seven questions in a row prompted Deborah to point out that perhaps next time it would be helpful to provide students more guidance on questions. “The takeaway from this is that information needs to be more accessible,” she said, explaining that the process of cutting students’ questions seems besides the point of the referendum and “might leave a bad taste in students’ mouths”.
The final list of questions – having been adjusted by lawyers, then readjusted by the Exec – is now available on the OUSA website. There’ll be an opportunity to discuss the pros and cons at a forum on May 20th at 12pm in the Main Common Room. Then the wellinformed and politically engaged student body will be invited to vote on each question, open from May 26th to May 28th. Note that the referendum questions aren’t constitutionally binding, meaning that yes they’ll hear you out, but no they don’t have to do what you tell them to. But Critic will be there to nark on them if they try to pull something fishy.
Political (In)Action Committee?
Student groups upset at the lack of transparency from OUSA’s Political Action Committee
Amnesty Youth Otago (AYO) and the Politics Students Association (POLSA) have expressed concern to Critic Te Ārohi over OUSA’s new Political Action Committee (PAC), citing worries about inclusion and representation. PAC is supposedly a committee formed to assist Political Rep Jett Groshinski in policy submission writing on behalf of students, following in the wake of some questions about student consultation in the submission writing process. However, human-rights activist group AYO has been shunted from the roundtable, leaving POLSA alone and “concerned” about the inclusivity of PAC.
PAC is the newest addition to OUSA’s (very long) list of Exec-run committees. President Liam White told Critic Te Ārohi that PAC was born “somewhat to replace” the now-defunct Submissions Committee, which never formally met in 2024. The Submissions Committee was meant to directly report to, and advise, the Political Rep (which was Liam at the time), whose role heavily involves writing submissions on policies of concern to the student body.
A recent example of submission writing was the Exec’s Treaty Principles Bill submission in February this year. After Critic reported on the submission in March, a student penned a letter to the editor saying, “I take issue with the actions of the president and political rep of OUSA submitting on the treaty principles bill on behalf of OUSA [...] Whether we agree with the submission or not I feel we should oppose the weaponisation of the organisation that we pay for in the private interests of the executive.” Liam responded, “The consent to act on behalf of students comes from the elected student representatives who act on behalf of students and voiced their support for this submission.”
Alongside criticisms of undemocratic submission-writing, another
By Gryffin Blockley & Hanna Varrs News Reporter & News Editor // news@critic.co.nz
catalyst for the creation of PAC was the lack of a committee for the Politics Rep, whereas every other Exec member has a committee associated with their roles. Liam noted that this was “weird” given the Political Rep would naturally require “the most consultation and feedback from people and engagement with the community” due to the nature of their 10-hour role.
Still in its infancy, PAC has met three times since March 20th (not including an attempted meeting last Thursday that did not meet quorum). Formally, only 9 out of 12 Executive members sit on the committee. Based on meeting minutes shown to Critic, so far they’ve covered what the priorities of PAC should be (with a student bar listed at the top) and who should be brought on board. Southern Young Labour (Jett and Liam are both exec members), Otago Campus Greens, POLSA, and Young Nats are listed under ‘potential partnerships’ discussed at the first meeting. Jett and Liam confirmed that they have approached all of these groups about the possibility of a partnership.
While Jett and Liam confirmed they’d reached out to the listed groups, in Jett’s first quarterly report submitted three days before the first PAC meeting, he also invited other interested groups to get in touch if they wanted to be involved. “There are positions available for people not involved within OUSA if you’re interested, please send me an email at political@ousa.org.nz,” he wrote. Earlier in the report, Jett had made it clear that he was interested in trying to work closer with groups that already write submissions “outside the traditional political clubs” such as the Tramping Club.
Amnesty Youth Otago (AYO) Co-President Jomana read the minutes and emailed Jett to ask for Amnesty to have a seat at the table on April 15th – and was met with silence for two weeks. In
Jett’s eventual reply, he told Amnesty that PAC’s membership had already been finalised, and that he was “[unable] to make any further changes”.
In an interview with Critic Te Ārohi last week, we asked Jett and Liam whether membership was, in fact, finalised. Jett responded, “Nothing was technically finalised, in that sense.” Faced with the apparent inconsistency in communications to Amnesty, Liam said, “I think that was us trying to do a polite saying, ‘No.’” Mirroring a high-school white lie, the duo apparently felt that hanging out without the excluded AYO was kinder than saying, “No, we don't think you are the right kind of club for a political action committee.”
Critic took the receipts to AYO for their response. “We have mobilised and organised for almost every human rights cause in the book,” Jomana said. “In Aotearoa, we’ve spoken up about the Treaty Principles Bill, Pay Equity, prisoner voting, and more. Our political action is broad and allows us to be in many spaces with many hats.”
Jomana explained that Amnesty being on PAC would allow them to offer a human rights and student activist perspective on submission writing. “We’re not a passive club or a small club,” she told Critic. “We’re not aligned to a particular party –just to our own kaupapa based on human rights. Seats on this committee should be open to all activist and advocacy groups regardless of their affiliation if we are to truly get a nuanced and diverse student perspective.”
POLSA, one of the groups that seems to have a PAC seat, expressed disappointment in the lack of diversity of student voices around the table. In a statement provided to Critic, POLSA expressed their belief that any political forum on campus, “especially one that helps to inform submissions made on behalf of the student body must reflect a wide range of perspectives.” While they expressed their excitement to hold a position on PAC, they stressed the need for PAC to “include
voices from across the political spectrum and from various student groups, and with the current proposed lineup, we don’t feel that this is possible.”
Upon learning about POLSA and Amnesty’s concerns about PAC, Liam (while wearing his POLSA hoodie) said, “I think the point that doesn't come through this is that the Political Action Committee doesn't make any decisions about the political orientation of OUSA. That comes from the elected representative of the OUSA Executive. So the Political Action Committee actually doesn't do any of that strategic thinking.”
A little confused about what the actual function of PAC was, Liam explained that “all [the PAC] does is say, ‘Okay, cool, we need to host a sausage sizzle. Who can come?’ That sort of operational stuff.” Diving into PAC minutes to get a feel of what they were actually talking about, Critic found that not a sausage was minuted.
Their most recent meeting discusses an Otago Regional Council submission drafted by Jett. This submission appeared to have only been accepted by PAC when amendments by Jett were made, suggesting that PAC may have the authority to do more than cook up snags in neon green aprons. “It was actually one of the best submissions we’ve ever done,” Liam boasted, speaking to PAC’s role in the ORC submission.
The concerns from AYO and POLSA have created a rocky start for PAC so far. Muddled communication about PAC’s function and members raises concerns about its transparency. While they straighten out their story and perhaps turn on email notifications on their phones, Critic Te Ārohi eagerly awaits the first organised sausage sizzle.
The Heavy Breathers Are Back, Baby
50 Castle boys to pop their marathon cherries in the name of mental health
In 2023, a group of 33 third-year boys, calling themselves the ‘Heavy Breathers’, raised 100k to support men’s mental health. The Breathers ran the Emerson’s Dunedin Marathon, donating their proceeds to mental health charity Spark That Chat. And for 2025, they’re back. Or rather, their brothers are back. Ben Norris, Mia Morris, Jack Callear, and Wills French are the little brothers of the 2023 Heavy Breathers, who will be completing this September’s Emerson’s marathon alongside Louis Bonetti, Oscar Reid, and Jasper O’Loughlin. Critic Te Ārohi sat down (we prefer not to run) with some of the Breathers for a DMC.
Fifty Castle Street boys, 42 kilometres, and 18 weeks to train –and none of them have ever run a marathon before. But don’t worry – “everyone’s come from a sporting background” – so they’ll be sweet. Let’s hope none of them do bowling or something. Carrying on Heavy Breathers’ legacy has been in the back of their minds since the afterparty of the 2023 marathon. “[We] kind of always knew we were going to do it”, but it wasn’t until this year that they really locked in. Echoing your three-month situationship, they told Critic the commitment is “scary”.
Louis tells Critic the group of breathas are from all over the country, but the group was made because they all kind of know each other on Castle Street – “And we’ll keep on getting to know each other better”. You know what they say, nothing brings people closer than running 42 kilometres together. The boys did their first big group run two weeks ago, which they agreed was a pretty cool experience. “Even when you are running, there’s no better feeling than that,” Oscar told Critic. “Like, completing the run with someone and the yarns throughout and getting to know someone.” This year, the Breathers are raising money for Lads without Labels, a student-led, student-focused mental health and wellbeing charity. When Critic asked why they decided to choose a different charity this time round, Ben explained that the first Heavy Breathers had raised a lot of money for Spark that Chat, and “it’d be cool to just spread it out”.
There’s been some initial struggle with everyone wanting to join what they think is a run club, with Ben admitting to Critic that he actually really hates running. “Everyone does running sometimes, but we’re not a group of runners. We’re a group of breathers who
By Tilly Rumball-Smith Staff Writer // news@critic.co.nz
are trying to run.” A fine distinction. In fact, none of them are super keen about the whole running part of a marathon, they’re all really focused on spreading awareness around men’s mental health. Not just in terms of actual fundraising, but throughout Studentville and with each other.
Critic was sceptical at this point. The 50 guys are running to support a cause, but do they know what they’re spreading awareness about? “I feel like that's kind of the point. We don’t know…no one really deals with it,” says Mia. “It’s almost like bringing awareness to the fact we don’t know.”
The Heavy Breathers were in agreement that to have 50 guys running for mental health was a good thing to come out of Castle Street, which is usually in the news for all the wrong reasons. “It’s bigger than just you running the marathon. It’s not just you, you’re running for what you stand for, what you’re fundraising for,” says Louis. “I mean, we’re not animals.”
Mental health on Castle Street isn’t all rosy, and the boys said it’s hard to know just how everyone’s faring, given how “normalised” it is to ignore it. “You just don’t talk about it. It’s so undercover [...] because it’s just like, how it is,” Ben explained. “Until it gets within one degree of you, you often don’t really think about it.” They struggled to conceptualise what supporting each other looked like, which is the problem they are trying to solve – with Mia reckoning that it could start with having each other’s backs throughout training. “I feel like as our group, or especially our group, no one’s really gonna be on their own. They’re always gonna have someone to talk to now that we have a group that supports the cause.”
To support the Heavy Breathers, donate to the Give a Little page in their Instagram bio @heavybreathers_. If you’re struggling with mental health, Student Health provides a confidential Mental Health and Wellbeing Service. Book appointments with the clinic at 0800 479 821. If one of your mates seems to be getting on the piss more than normal, reach out to them. Have a yarn. As the boys said in our interview, the first step is to just reach out for a chat.
The Saltiest Pretzel Stick CONSPIRACY
Opinion: Dunedin needs pretzel sticks back, get salty about it
Ahh the pretzel stick. A delicacy for 5-year-olds with the finest taste. A lunchbox snack that your friends would always ask for a share of. A crispy, salted delight in stick form; it’s genius. Well, if you were looking for another reason to hate capitalism, this is it. The beloved pretzel stick is gone, stripped away from the shelves and from deep within our hearts – not just from Dunedin, but across Aotearoa.
The stick pretzels' disappearance has been suppressed by major supermarkets and seemingly gone unnoticed by the public eye. Sure, the highly inferior pretzel twist is still available in stores, but Critic Te Ārohi would not be a bystander in this unnoticed tragedy. Enter prime investigative journalism, to what we’re calling The Great Pretzel Conspiracy. And yes, we’re super salty about it.
Critic first came across this story when a staff member shared their experience with the recent Gingerbread Housing Crisis. Armed with questionable engineering knowledge and a sweet tooth, one of Critic’s loyal staff set out to create one of the greatest gingerbread houses of our time. But the house was missing one key aspect: the fence. No other crispened bread could compare to the “highly practical qualities” of the pretzel stick, and our staff searched high and low, behind bread bags and shelves – to no avail. Oh, woe, the “naturally scrumptious” stick and “nostalgic flavours of an iconic childhood snack” would not be making it to this gingerbread neighbourhood. The Christmas Pinterest board would never be fulfilled, and many gingerbread people were pinned under the crisis. With no media coverage, innocent gingerbread lives were snuffed out of the public sphere.
There are two key stick pretzel producers in this cold case: Woolworths and Shultz. We flipped a coin and started with Woolies, placing them at the centre of our crime-style pinboard. After being put on hold several times by customer service, they provided the number of a stock manager – but the number provided didn’t exist. With our questions being met with dial tone, Critic was blue-balled, duped and pretzel-less. We usually like to be wined and dined before we’re fucked, but nevermind that. What do Woolies have to hide? What really happened to the pretzel sticks?
We had no choice. It was time to bring in Olive: the 24/7 AI chatbot from the Woolworths’ website. Despite what “Artificial
By Zoe Eckhoff Staff Writer // news@critic.co.nz
Intelligence” would imply, Olive couldn’t handle the complexity of pretzel stick stock (“Sorry – I don’t understand your request!”). It wasn’t long before Critic got a new customer service employee –Sonika. “The pretzel sticks were deleted by the supplier,” a fuming Critic was told. “But we still have WW Pretzel Twists 200g”. They say that as if twists and sticks taste the same. Amateurs.
We turned to Shultz. As a dedicated pretzel brand, we had a healthy respect for Shultz and were looking forward to speaking to someone with an intimate knowledge of the industry. Tanya informed Critic that supermarket chains “deleted the Shultz Pretzel Sticks over three years ago”. The fuck? Apparently our country doesn’t have the population to support the stick variety of pretzels (do better, Aotearoa). As such, supermarket chains won’t give up their shelf space “real estate” unless it makes them money. Corporate greed wins once again.
It was time to do what Critic knows best: asking students about what they think about irrelevant and niche topics while they try to study. Just as we suspected, not one person knew about the mysterious pretzel disappearance. “This is news to me,” Juliette told us. “I used to love those!” So did we, Juliette. So did we. “Really sad,” concurred her friend Ella, admirably clocking the gravity of the situation. However, some cared far less about the subject. Trinity said she’s “not too disappointed” over the loss, but she does “prefer the sticks over the bows”. Clearly a victim of Big Pretzel’s brainwashing, Hannah reckoned that the “sticks are just sticks” while “the bows are interesting”.
No one had any idea why they were taken away. We haven’t yet addressed the inconsistency here: key pretzel players were contradicting themselves in circles, with Woolies claiming the supplier deleted the stock, while Shultz pointed the finger at supermarkets. Meanwhile, stick pretzel lovers have been caught in the middle (not Hannah, apparently). Left with more questions than answers, Critic staff’s hands have inched closer towards the leftover tinfoil from Chilli Dhaba naan bread. Mutters of “Big Pretzel” have been heard echoing down the hallway of OUSA. There’s a trail from office doors of soggy twisted pretzels in vain homemade attempts to stickify them.
LEAKED! OIA Reveals Otago is Legally Obligated to Hire Unelected Politicians
Emails released under the Official Information Act (OIA) have revealed that the University of Otago has entered into a legally binding agreement with the Labour Party to hire politicians that don’t get elected.
The official document stated that the University was required to “employ at minimum one Labour Party MP, minister or official that has failed to get elected each three year election cycle”. Another email revealed that the University would gain in return “tax write-offs”, “sweet sweet government dough”, and “daily affirmations from acting Members of Parliament”.
By Anderson Coomer Shitposter // criticaltribune@critic.co.nz
It is unclear which Labour Party member is set to go to the University next, but Critical Tribune was told from a source that wishes to remain anonymous that Bishy and Rachel Brooking were going to have a manu-off for the next available bureaucratic role at Otago.
In unrelated news, student fees are planned to be increased due to a surge in staffing needs.
PUZZLES PUZZLES
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WORDFIND
SPOT THE DIFFERENCE
There are 10 differences between the two images
EXCLUSIVE
SALVADOR DALI LARMY SNAKE GOSSIP GASLIGHT
NARNIA
PINOT GRIS
INFOMERCIAL
Illustrated by Jimmy Tannock
By Critic Staff & Otago Students
In a salute to the spirit of student ingenuity, Critic Te Ārohi put out the call for students to submit their best road sign collages, failed herb gardens, and pallet beds – whatever makes a whare truly yours. Think of it like Grand Designs, but with a budget of $12 in leftover loan and more bongs. Our judges spread out across Dunedin to play backyard golf (graciously waived the box on entry fee), gape in awe at real-life homegrown vegetables, and be toured through flats more curated than the MET. While it was tough competition across the range of categories (it’s hard picking between two things) there could only be one winner for each. Critic is proud to present: The Very Best (loose term) of Student Living.
CATEGORY 1: DI-Y the fuck would you
do that?
Judged by Molly Smith-Soppet
Got a quirky budget build? Maybe you’ve fashioned a coffee table out of an old fridge (still smells like ham), created mood lighting with a New World bag over your lightbulb, or rigged up a clothing rack from a broom and zip ties. “Breathas, do your worst,” Critic said in our call-out. Breathas, as it turns out, are doing their best to prepare for fatherhood: with not one but TWO backyard golf courses to admire the (fake) grass before playing a round, beer in hand.
Contestant One: Joseph Anderson – Mile Hyde DIY Golf Simulator
The Mile Hyde DIY golf simulator is a true show of Kiwi ingenuity, if it was defined by repurposing junk and a bank account too small to book a real tee time. As Critic saw from this entry, this backyard installation is held together by sheer willpower and a handful of leftover materials from Hyde Street Party. Constructed using relics from the School of Surveying (glorified sticks), a bit of PVC piping, a bushel of nails, and exactly two zip ties, the structure stands upright, defying both gravity and common sense. Wet cardboard helps to provide what might generously be called ‘support’, while the pièce de résistance, a net and some artificial grass from Temu adds a splash of microplastic realism.
Technically, the simulator is ‘portable’, though the bigger question remains: why the fuck would you move it?
Functionality-wise, the simulator has been rigorously tested with a mix of real and foam golf balls. Some hit their target, while others ping off the wooden retaining wall like rogue shrapnel coming back to hit shins. Each flatmate claims it’s an essential training tool, helping them get practice in when uni runs long or the days are too cold. The only miracle bigger than the fact it is still standing is the fact that no windows have been harmed and no one’s been hospitalised – yet.
This simulator really shows few students can do with some junk they find on the street. As the tale goes “one man's trash is another's treasure,” and golly gosh does this entry embody that. With a seating area next to it, it's the perfect place to spend a sunny Thursday afternoon or a dusty Sunday with the lads. Whether or not using this piece of tech would be detrimental to one's golfing skills is neither here nor there; it's all about the vibes and spending time with your mates. And even though the structure seems pretty rickety, it has yet to fall over – and that's all that matters.
Winner: Thomas Simpson – The Blueprint
If Dunedin student flats ever needed to host a Masters tournament, Critic knows who we’d call… The Blueprint. This five-man operation is sporting the most suspiciously lush lawn in Studentville. (Spoiler: it’s faker than a Tinder man’s
6-foot claims.) But what it lacks in chlorophyll, it makes up for in commitment. Meticulously vacuumed and suspiciously smooth, you could “put your balls on it” the contestants claimed – a quote we are 75% sure refers to golf balls.
This astro turf doesn't just look pretty, it's part of a 7-hole golf course across their backyard. And a unique course it is, with each hole having been cursed with random objects. Hole 2? Shoot through a massive pipe. Hole 3? Navigate a rogue plank of wood. Hole 5? Watch out for ‘the grouch’, a grass-covered couch that may or may not be growing shrooms of an unknown variety under one of the cushions. But the crown jewel of this course? Hole 7: a chaotic launch ramp that sends your golf ball soaring into the open drum of a dryer housed in their sacred shed, The Greasy Beaver Lodge.
While Critic witnessed the first hole-in-one on this course when judges dropped in for a visit, it’s not earthquake proof. It smells really funky. But it is the peak of student sports. The boys have advised Critic that green fees are a box on entry and they are considering raising prices as this is a full service golf course. With the flatmates currently studying to become nutritionists, doctors, and med lab assistants (what ever the fuck that means?), as well as a physicist studying how to create another hole, get in while you can as tee times are sure to go quickly.
CATEGORY 2: Wonder Wall
Judged by Molly Smith-Soppet
No, not the one your male-manipulator-Hinge-date plays you repeatedly on their guitar. We asked students to show us the feature wall that gives the MET a run for its money – with bonus points if it includes some Critic art, of course.
Contestant One: Connor Moffat – Connor’s Shrine to Himself
This wall is a combination of memory, meaning and chaos, in the scrapbook style of a life well-lived. Over time, Critic Sub-Designer and Video Editor Connor has carefully assembled posters, setlists, photos, tickets, and odd little relics from the past year. “Each item holds a story. Gigs played. Places visited. Milestones reached. Moments shared with people who matter most,” he wrote in his entry submission. Connor’s wall is a personal museum of joy and growth, showing that even in the blur of flat life and shitty Dunedin weather, there are snapshots of time worth displaying. This isn't just a wall – it's a living archive of everything good, including showcasing local artistry in the form of a portrait of Connor illustrated by the man in the Link.
Winner: Leah McLaren – The Ultimate Critic Wall
Now this is a wall worth writing 250 words on. Filled to the brim with Critic's achievements, both artistic and informational. Tucked away in a flat on Cargill St, this wall shows snapshots of iconic covers, wild moments, and every other kind of fucked up thing that has defined the magazine over the years. It’s equal parts chaotic and curated; overall a great addition to any student flat. Leah, the mastermind behind this wall, told Critic, “No one else is allowed to touch the wall. It's all mine and honestly I am pretty particular about what I want to see on it.” With Leah's meticulous planning and cutting happening every Monday night, she can be found with scissors in one hand and Blu-Tack in the other, piecing together yet another week’s worth of media magic. Critic went in-person to peruse this entry and the camera doesn't do it justice. The texture, the layers and the tiny details are what make this wall less of a decoration and more of a journey of Leah and her flatmates’ uni experience.
CATEGORY 3: Oopsie
Accidents happen. Maybe you’ve replaced a broken bedroom door with a shower curtain, or framed up a hole in the wall and made it a statement piece? Critic wanted to see your best ‘damage control’. Sadly, we didn’t receive any entries for this category. Boo.
CATEGORY 4: Green Thumb
Judged by Isabella
Simoni
A green-starved Critic Te Ārohi asked students: got a garden that would make a cottagecore lesbian weep with joy? Maybe your supermarket basil is thriving, or your shower’s mould collection has evolved into its own ecosystem? Whatever nature you're nurturing, we wanted to see it – and were delighted with the results.
Contestant One: Lucy Leadbeater – The Swamp
When one flat inherited the Swamp two years ago, they had far-fetched dreams of a Bunnings makeover featuring wildflowers and perhaps a vegetable or two. But their dreams were crushed by a lack of determination, willpower depletion, and the fact that the soil is not soil but some other unearthly substance. The growing capacity has included weeds, strange bushes, what we call a tree, and an abundance of beer bottle lids that they reckon contribute to the ecosystem. Nevertheless, in their submission the flat proudly included a photo of their very own scarecrow (it's a ball-gagged mask, that when they first moved in, were too scared to take down for fear of being cursed). All in all, their contributions to the swamp ended up being a basil plant donated by a flatmate's mum, a pink bead necklace to add femininity to their (possibly cursed) ball-gagged scarecrow, and some outdoor fairy lights that were up for a short time, before they were spitefully cut by their landlord. God forbid girls try to bring light to a Dunedin flat.
Contestant Two: Brad Devery – A Wholesome Threat
Critic’s own content creator Brad (who’s started referring to himself as Critic’s ‘social media manager’) submitted a picture of his thriving veggie garden in an email with the subject line: “If I don’t win, I quit x”.
Jake, Angus, and Cam’s Leith Street flat garden is thriving this season. Jake comes from a long-line of corn farmers who specialise in growing, you guessed it, purple cauliflower. With this generational talent, the flat’s garden is flourishing, producing several heads of the purple stuff (there’s a joke in there somewhere), alongside crisp lettuce, parsley, and maybe some other things too. These young men are contradicting Leith stereotypes by generating instead of destroying, and are quite proud to know how much food they’ve been able to finesse for free (minus the cost of soil, seeds, gardening tools, garden beds, and greenhouse netting). They even share the fresh produce with their other
flatmates and neighbours – can we be friends? While their greenhouse did, according to Critic’s calculations, cost more than the large chicken on chips from Burger N Beast, it was a wise investment. The boys say it made a massive difference in protecting their plants from cold snaps in Dunedin weather, and they don’t seem to be exaggerating.
CATEGORY 5: Devious Lick
Judged by Nina Brown
If the local council’s recent costs in cone theft during the George Street renovation project are anything to go by, kleptomania grips Studentville. Critic Te Ārohi asked students to submit their guilty pleasure collection of stolen Ōtepoti oddities displayed like museum artefacts – and we weren’t disappointed with the two entries.
Contestant One: Anonymous – Inherited Fortune
Dunedin has a long history and tradition of larceny, and nothing shows this more than this beautiful North East Valley flat garden peppered with the contents of the DCC roadside safety storage. Upon moving in, the current tenants stumbled upon a veritable treasure trove of traffic signs and road cones left by their predecessors’ sticky fingers. “[They] were just there as if they’d appeared from the gods,” one tenant mused to Critic. Inspired by the movement after the Christchurch earthquakes where people put flowers in road cones to bring joy, these flatters got to work making creative arrangements, transforming these treasures into works of art. One particularly ingenious feat of the DIY Dunners spirit was the table made of wood planks topped by two traffic signs and beautified by flowers in pots.
Winner: Grace Hards – The Gallery
Every Scarfie knows it’s a rite of passage to “acquire” the odd bit of council property on a night out. But once the buzz wears off, you’re left with the same question every creative klepto faces: What the hell do I do with all this bright orange clutter? Unless you’re living in a breatha’s trap house, traffic cones and road signs aren’t exactly interior design chic. Throwing them out feels sacrilegious – these are trophies, after all. So, these flatties turned their flat’s hallway into a gallery. Pros: spacious, bold, and budget-friendly (free). Cons: technically illegal and unbelievably heavy (“no idea how I’ve made it home with one under each arm”). But hey, nothing says Dunedin student life like a stolen stop sign and a bit of hallway flair.
CATEGORY 6: Curated AF
Judged by Jonathan McCabe
It can be a real challenge to cultivate a homely atmosphere in a flat of seven squeezed into a century-old villa –especially when Jenga-towers of laundry, dishes, and scattered study materials get in the way. Critic Te Ārohi searched for the elusive curated flat that could have been taken straight out of a white woman’s Pinterest board.
Contestant One: Connor Moffat – A “Frickin’ Vibe”
Connor figured that he’d entered in one category, so he may as well enter another. Over the year (and a quarter) that he’s lived in his flat, Connor has curated his room into what he dubs to be “quite the frickin’ vibe”. It features a large shelf filled with items from his life, many weird and wonderful Facebook marketplace trinkets, a few plants here and there, plenty of guitar equipment, and a whole lot of decoration to bring it all together. “I love this fucking room dude, it brings me peace and really shows off who I am,” Connor concluded.
Contestant Two: Molly Smith-Soppet – The Sanctuary
Staff writer Molly in her submission simply said, “My room is my sanctuary.” We didn’t have many entries at this point, hence the multiple in-house submissions. But her room is lovely.
Winner: Imogen Harris – Flat Turned Exhibition
A true exercise in curation! Walking through Imogen’s flat was like getting lost through the backrooms of a Woodstock ‘69 themed exhibition. Each wall has a different theme, made out of cut outs from three years’ worth
of Critics, other (not as cool) magazines, art folders and cops from the now defunct This n’ That. Critic judges were blessed with a tour of their highly curated bong wall (wow we publish a lot of bong-tent), an infographic corner, rockstar collage, Van Gogh hallway, and boat bathroom. This exhibition set the flatties back 16 hours of their time and seven packets of Blu-Tack.
The centrepiece of their living room is the culmination of poverty, desperation, and ingenuity. Somehow one shelf manages to tie the whole flat together. Imogen told the story of how it came together: “When Facebook Marketplace free section fails, where do you go? I’ll tell you where. You don a balaclava and some baggy clothes, you creep down the road in the dead of night, you slip between some barricades into a building site, and you fill your tote bags with the least broken of a pile of demoed bricks. The breeze block was a little extra score, but there was only one. Then you traipse with your back breakingly heavy bags back to your flat, picking up some only slightly mouldy planks of wood from the side of the road, and create the gorgeous wonder that is my plant shelf. This is why we should win, as a reward for our intelligence, resourcefulness, and dedication.”
Overheard Ōtepoti
By Critic Staff Illustrated by Gemma McKinney
Amnesty Youth members in a Law lecture
AYO member 1: “Do you think $20 for a joint is reasonable?”
AYO member 2: “Yeah, I mean it sounds reasonable. It depends how big the joint is – they can get you really fucked up.”
AYO member 1: “Yeah, I’ve never done weed before, that doesn’t seem too expensive.”
AYO member 2: “Guys, I can’t believe we’re talking about weed in a Criminal Law lecture!’
An earnest breatha trying to be an ally
Breatha: “Is it still gay sex if there’s no dick?”
Friend (explaining kindly): “Well, yes because lesbians have sex in a different way – it’s not all about the destination.”
Breatha: “But if there’s no dick, instead of gay sex… is it just sex?”
Friend: “You’ve got the right idea!”
A tall guy and a shorter girl standing outside the OUSA main building archway
Girl: “You’ve just had two lunches, do you really need to grab more food?”
Boy: “I guess not…”
OUSA Finance and Strategy Officer Daniel Leamy, sitting in the Exec bullpen
Daniel: “Is it ethical if I scam people?”
An Auahi Ora staff member talking to a student buying a
coffee
Cafe worker: “Looked like you had fun at Pint Night”
Customer: “DID I?”
Cafe worker: “Yeah girl, you were messy”
Customer: “Oh.”
By Molly Smith-Soppet
Photos by Kevin Wang and Gabe Jonson
Sources (one suspicious email with a portfolio of equally suspicious high-res JPEGs) have informed Critic Te Ārohi that OUSA President Liam White may be using student funds to launch his side hustle as an underwear model. We knew the Exec didn’t pay well, but we didn’t realise things were this desperate. It started when an anonymous tip landed in our inbox at 2:32pm on a Tuesday afternoon while Critic staff were heavily sampling drinks for that week's Booze Review. The subject line caught our attention immediately: “Not to be dramatic but I think Liam is stealing from OUSA to become an underwear model???” Attached: a folder titled “Evidencebeware - it’s STEAMY”.
Inside were a series of well-lit, risqué shots of Liam in various states of undress. One photo has him posing on a cliff with Critics covering himself in a strategic way to ‘keep him decent’, with a look that says, “I’m ready to restructure the whole Exec and you can't do anything about it.” Honestly? Kinda awesome. But legally? Maybe not so much.
Word on the street is Liam has been siphoning money from the Media and Advertisement sections of the OUSA budget to fund these elaborate shoots, sending professional portfolios to modeling agencies across the country. The funds are also necessary for the behind-the-scenes to maintain a physique that’ll make you whisper an involuntary “daddy”, paying for a personal chef and F45 membership. And the inspiration for this thirst-driven spending spree?
Robert Irwin. Yes, the Bonds campaign. Robert Irwin’s influence on Mr President extends beyond just his outback Hyde costume, it seems.
According to a member of the Exec (who requested anonymity but is 100% for this career change from their boss), Liam saw the campaign and spiralled. “He started saying stuff like ‘Robert Irwin can do it and he hasn't even fought Mr No Confidence, let alone won”, they told Critic, referring to Liam’s uncontested campaign for president last year where his only opponent was the ‘no confidence’ check-box. “At first we thought it was a bit, but then he showed up to a meeting with Grant Robertson in his gym gear and we knew it was real,” said our anonymous source. Liam has allegedly referred to the pivot as “radically transparent,” insisting that the student body “deserves to see the body behind the policy”.
Critic photographer Kevin Wang was roped into the situation. “Liam pretty much threatened my job. He said, ‘I’m your boss's boss, so you have to give me a discount, otherwise Critic is getting the chop.’ That was pretty scary.” As Critic’s in-house photographer Kevin has seen some things in his time, so he was unfazed when Liam made a comment while posing in his underwear with a sequin covered snake: “There's two snakes in these photos.” With that being said, Liam has now been accused of embezzlement, intimidation, and crimes against a sparkly snake called Boris.
The famously frugal President Liam is sparing no expense in order to further his career, with Finance Officer and scam victim Daniel Leamy reportedly “deeply distressed” after noticing several lines of budget being reclassified as “strategic public
relations initiatives”. So what is Liam sinking into this venture? Critic acquired a photo from our anonymous source – taken moments before golden hour at Smaills Beach – and got zooming and Googling. We clocked a $65.99 plush 2.5 metre snake, $45 vintage Ralph Lauren boxers and a one-of-a-kind OUSA banner (priceless). Not to mention the cost of petrol to Smaills and back, that's at least $250 all together. While we cannot confirm whether OUSA funds actually purchased the glitter body oil used in the beach shoot, what we can say is this – no president has ever pushed for transparency quite like Liam. If this truly is a campaign for more student engagement, it's certainly a unique way to go about it.
A staff member at Clubs and Socs told Critic, “We were meant to get a new gym for rec classes, however all we have ended up with is a new set of dumbbells and a mirror with a sticker that says ‘Believe in yourself, Liam’.” Meanwhile, Liam has been floating the idea around the Exec to install pokies machines in U-Bar “to generate student-led revenue streams”. However, the majority of Exec members suspect the real reason is to fund his mounting personal costs, including the carnivore diet and a subscription to Men’s Health under the name “L. White, Model/President.”
When shown the images of their president, two secondyear students, Lisa and Dane, shared looks of confusion. “You mean our money is going towards this?” Lisa questioned, while Dane complimented Liam’s posing, “He really knows how to work what he's got”. Other students commented, “Surely Critic puts out a calendar with these images, maybe that can fund their book”, “Wait who is he?,” and “This is the guy everyone thinks is gonna be prime minister one day!”
At the time of publication, Liam has not responded to Critic’s request for comment, no matter how many times we’ve emailed, reached out to his family members, and even knocked on his front door. That being said, he did post an Instagram story with the caption “They hate me cause they ain't me #lonelyatthetop” with the link to what appears to be his newly created OnlyFans account. Whether this is a cry for help, the spray tan fumes have gone to his head, or he really thinks starting an OnlyFans will get OUSA out of the hole, remains to be seen.
Stay tuned as we investigate further. Because while student democracy might be dead, Liam’s glutes are very much alive.
By Lotto RamsayIllustarted by Tevya Faed
By Molly Smith Soppet & Hanna Varrs
Photos supplied by "Mrs Daniel Leamy"
By Grace Hards Illustrated by Jakira Brophy
Red RoundFlagup
I once had a guy ask me – completely deadpan – if the reason I didn’t want to date him anymore was because my parents didn’t love me enough as a child. No joke. That was his closer. And to be fair, it did close things. Safe to say, the almost-relationship ended right there, emotionally face down in the Castle Street gravel. But it got me thinking: what other deranged, unprovoked, therapist-should-hear-this things have we all been told, asked, or subjected to? Surely I wasn’t alone in dating someone who treated emotional intimacy like a noncontact sport. And so began the slow, slippery descent into the madness that is Dunedin’s dating pool – a swamp of vape breath, casual gaslighting, and the faint scent of Lynx Africa.
It turns out, the red flags here aren’t just waving – they’re building a bonfire and asking if you want to come inside for a cuddle, before stripping you of your dignity in unimaginably ridiculous ways. One girl confessed she made out with a guy who wouldn’t shut up about weed vapes and utility knives. Another ended up in a bedroom that doubled as a Monster Energy shrine – fifty empty cans stacked like cursed Jenga, radiating the energy of a teenage boy’s apocalypse bunker. And somehow? She still gave him a chance. We all do. Because in this economy? The dating bar isn’t low – it’s subterranean.
But the real horror starts when you zoom in on the mindset. It’s not just bad beverages and weirder hobbies – it’s a terrifying cocktail of male ego, unprocessed trauma, and YouTube philosophers. There’s the guy who insisted Mikhail Gorbachev was a great leader. Not because he had any meaningful grasp of history, but because name-dropping Cold War figures made him feel like he had depth – before he unironically queued up Juice WRLD like it was gospel. Or the one who wouldn’t stop reminding everyone he was in the “gifted class” in primary, as if that somehow excused the fact he now lives in a state of biohazard and treats foreplay like an urban myth.
Some red flags hit closer to the bone. One girl was told her boyfriend “couldn’t compliment her when she looked nice” because she might start expecting it. God forbid she feels loved consistently. Another had to block a male friend because she laughed at his joke. (Which, for the record, was probably funnier than the guy she was dating – and had better hair, too.) Someone else got pressured to go off her antidepressants. In week one standing in the way of true love.
And yet, we persist. We squint past the warning signs like we’re trying to see the good in a Magic Eye puzzle. “He has emotional depth,” we tell ourselves, as he casually mentions he’d let a girl shit on his chest if she was hot enough. Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s low standards and a fear of dying alone. Who’s to say?
Whether they’re sleeping sheetless on a mattress that hasn’t seen daylight since O-Week, or feeling personally threatened by Harry Styles, these men are real. And worse – they’re everywhere. Haunting your Tinder swipes, group chats, 2 am notifications with a “U up?” text, and the deepest, darkest corners of the Commerce building.
Take, for example, the classic case of spiritual rot: a guy who swore – on a dead girl’s grave, into his mate’s sister. Then went for her anyway. A bold use of the afterlife for such a weak-ass lie. Similarly, another boyfriend told his partner he didn’t have any time to see people, yet somehow managed to bike to other girls’ flats like a triathlon of betrayal. The cardio king of deceit.
And just when you think you’ve hit emotional rock bottom, in comes the guy who, after being gently dumped, pulled up the ex’s friend’s Instagram and said, “I wish you looked like her.” Honestly, if you're going to attempt a one-liner of psychological warfare, at least be hot enough to justify the trauma. He wasn’t. Not even close.
The dating pool isn't shallow – it's dried up, and the puddles are full of double standards, vague apologies, and guys who swear they were going to get you flowers… but didn't. One girl told us her ex had no job, lived with his mum (which is fine if you’re working on yourself), but then had the audacity to cheat. Like genuinely, what the fuck?
But these aren’t isolated horror stories whispered over
wine. These are patterns. Tropes. Epidemics disguised as ex-boyfriends. And we’re not just here to be mean for sport – we’re here because, at some point, we have to say enough is enough: women deserve better than this. Better than a man who sees your boundaries as a personal attack. Better than vape-boy, lacks-a-shower-boy, or swore-on-adead-girl’s-grave-boy. (RIP to her, truly.)
You are not too emotional, too picky, or too intense. You are simply dealing with men who treat human connection like
ISSUE 16, 2002 ISSUE 15, 2004 ISSUE 5, 2006
ISSUE 13, 2009
Every year Critic Te Arohi surveys students about study, sex, drugs, flatting, money, politics, relationships, and more to find out about the lives and thoughts of Otago’s student body. And don’t worry - it’s 100% anonymous.
Scan the QR code to complete this year’s census!
KRAUS,
ByMollySmith-Soppet
Women in Business
If you think business clubs are just suited-up LinkedIn influencers moonlighting a degree double majoring in Finance and Accounting, you clearly haven't met Women in Business (WIB). This isn't your average stock-trading, hustle-culture club. WIB is a women-led club built on the belief that business should be inclusive and empowering for everyone.
Founded and affiliated early this year, WIB was created by Aimee, a post grad student studying for her Masters of Marketing. After noticing a lack of accessible spaces for women to connect and collaborate in professional development, Aimee and her peers decided to build one. “There were lots of clubs about marketing, accounting and that kind of thing [...] but not many felt warm, open or collaborative, especially to women,” she says. Throughout this year the club has amassed over 200 members, but you don't need to be a BCOM to join. “We have lots of law, arts and even some science students,” commented Aimee.
At its heart WIB is about real human connection, not just having that 500+ connections badge on your profile. The club offers everything from panel talks, to pilates classes, to chill coffee meetups. It’s not about grinding 24/7 or getting five internships by second year – it's about creating a space where people can learn, collaborate, and most importantly build relationships with others who have the same goals or motivations as them. Having gained sponsorship from law firms, marketing agencies, and even the Dunedin Airport, these girls
know how to form strong strategic relationships, without losing sight of their values.
What makes WIB particularly cool is how unpretentious they are. Yes, they talk about starting businesses and how to work your way to the top, but they're also aware of how intimidating those spaces can be. “There’s an expectation within business that you have to be super confident to be taken seriously,” says Aimee. “But most of us are figuring things out as we go; now we can do it together.”
Secretary Kaiah says the group is pushing hard to reach a more diverse crowd, “We’re working on making WIB a home for students who might not see themselves reflected in business spaces”. In a uni culture that can sometimes feel allergic to sincerity and kindness, WIB is a refreshing new avenue. They’re ambitious, yes –but they also care deeply about community. In a world that often pits women against each other in the name of “success,” WIB is proof that there’s power in lifting each other up.
Up next, WIB is running a Pink Ribbon Brunch on the 22nd of May in the Evison Lounge, one of many more wellness and education based events in the coming months.
Find out more about the club on their Instagram @uoowomeninbusiness
Visitors to their ISSUES! 100 Years of Critic exhibition are invited to contribute when visiting the gallery by handwriting or typing a letter. The winning letter of the week will be featured in the magazine and the author gets a free Critic tote bag! Email critic@critic.co.nz to claim your prize.
YES:
From flat-out cringe to just plain confusing, seeing your democratically-elected Gen-X or Boomer politicians on your FYP can be jarring at first. But even if it’s a tough watch seeing some MP try and be ‘down with the kids’, at least they’re trying right?
Political engagement is at an all time low, especially for young people. Chances are that unless you study POLS or are an ex Model-UN kid, you’re likely pretty ceebs or jaded about the whole thing. So it’s encouraging to see some politicians (or their social media interns, at least) make an effort to reach out and engage with audiences who may not usually care.
While many of us exist online in a world of brainrot and questionably-funny memes, a politician can still spit bars without attempting to be funny. It’s important to see what our elected people are up to day-to-day. After all, we voted for them and their salaries are paid by us. That’s if they use their platform to be informative, rather than add high schoolers on Snapchat (as one party leader is known for).
When politicians are on social media, they’re easily
visible and can post very quickly (sometimes leading to questionable decisions). If they don’t think before they speak, the public is there to hold them accountable. Plus the beef in the comments sections is basically free entertainment, right?
So yes, it may be slightly distressing to hear a balding politician say shit like “skibidi” to try and be relatable. But the accountability and action, and transparency when done right can make engaging with our politicians more natural and less of a chore.
TillyByGryffinBlockley& Rumball-Smith
NO:
Absolutely not. It is disconcerting to see the leader of your country reposting a political meme on their story. Even worse when they discovered TikTok. The knowledge that world leaders could have one finger on the red button and log in to @WhiteHouseOfficial to counter argue a twitter warrior is at the least, uncomfortable.
It’s also embarrassing for the politicians. Social media is now flooded with political propaganda, and this time it’s being posted directly from the leaders themselves. Also, just imagine them celebrating when they reach a million followers or whatever. Don’t they have a country to run?
It’s also a poor way to share important shit in a digital age of rampant misinformation. Things can spiral out of control on social media in a way that official press releases can’t, especially if the leaders themselves are making wild proclamations. Social media just isn’t a platform politicians should engage with. Do MPs follow each other back? Why
on earth would I want to see pictures of their cat on my explore feed?
Or worse, some political jargon. People go on social media to engage with their friends. Politicians straining to appeal to the glitz and glam of TikTok and instagram feels ingenuine and is frankly a poor use of their time.
To anyone who disagrees, do you actually follow any politicians? Better yet, do they even follow you back? OMG, are you moots? No? How surprising.
SHOULD POLITICIANS HAVE MEDIA?SOCIAL
Bento Bowls
Ingredients:
TERIYAKI-ISH CHICKEN
Salt and Pepper Oil
2 chicken breast
½ cup soy sauce
2 tsp ginger
3 cloves garlic (finely chopped)
2 Tbsp honey
2 Tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp fish sauce
1 tsp sesame oil
2 tsp vinegar or mirin
2 tsp corn flour
Instructions:
Step 1. Mix together the marinade ingredients, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, honey, oyster sauce, fish sauce, sesame oil and vinegar/mirin. This is for the Teriyaki-ish sauce. Set aside.
Step 2. Preheat a frying pan over medium heat with a small amount of oil.
Step 3. Slice the chicken breast into cubes and place into the frying pan. Add some salt and pepper, and cook the chicken for ~15 mins, stirring occasionally, until almost
By Ruby Hudson
TO SERVE ... switch up with whatever is in season, or your favourite fresh veg
Cooked rice
Avocado
Tomato Red onion
Seaweed
Lettuce
Kewpie mayo
Step 5. Add the teriyaki sauce to the fry pan, turn down the heat to low and simmer for ~10 mins.
Step 6. While the chicken cooks, chop and prepare your fresh vegetables to top.
Step 7. Take a cup and spoon in a couple of spoonfuls of the teriyaki sauce. Mix the cornflour with this sauce to form a slurry. Pour the slurry into the chicken and cook for a further 5 mins until the sauce is thick and glossy, and the chicken is fully cooked.
Step 8. Serve the chicken on a bed of rice, and top with seaweed, fresh vegetables and kewpie mayo!
Not to be that guy… but I am currently in Japan, sitting on a train eating a bento box. For this week's recipe I thought I’d bring you along with me, and share a homemade take on a bento bowl. This recipe is pretty quick and easy to make, and could be modified to use tofu, beef or whatever protein takes your fancy. The only requirement is that you use kewpie mayo, because it is the best, and no bento bowl can go without! Enjoy.
Salt Pepper
Fresh vegetables of your choosing to serve (e.g. lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, avo, pickles)
Move over pinot gris, here come the rich aromas of the lady herself – Ruby Rouge. Aptly named, considering the colour of my cheeks after a glass. She presents with a deep crimson body, casting a siren call for an immediate sip.
Burger “Patty”
1 onion (diced)
500 g Beef Mince or 400 g Lisa's Mediterranean Falafel Mix
1 tsp dijon mustard
1 tsp tomato sauce (scribble: Don’t include the T-sauce or mustard if you are going for the falafel version)
Is it cherry, strawberry or blackberry that offends the palette first and foremost? I would say a combination of all, followed with a sharp sour twang that strangely leaves one wanting more. Being a glutton, I am now half a bottle deep whilst I write this.
2 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp dried oregano
2 tsp paprika
1 tsp dried thyme
Ruby Rouge is cast in a rich green bottle and encouraged with a burgundy labelling; like a bottle you’d see on your grandmother’s shelf, alongside a crystal wine glass that’s hardly used bar the occasional tipple of sherry.
Burger Sauce
3 Tbsp whole egg mayonnaise
1 ½ Tbsp tomato sauce
3 tsp pickle juice
1 tsp dijon mustard
She’s the sophisticated cousin of a goon of red wine, the one your wine-o aunty that gets cut on and starts belting ABBA overtop of your uncle's political rants (thought this was a universal experience). It’s both distasteful, but still admiral in its effort.
3 tsp pickle relish (scribble: I use the Kev’s Pickled Gherkin Relish) Pepper
I can’t help but comment on the furnace within my stomach after downing a glass before taking off to the Capping Show. Given winter is just round the corner, it could be the perfect
Griselda Pinot Griselda Pinot xo
accompaniment for your frosty Octagon-bound quests. Glass of Rouge in hand, I’d feel at home smacking my lips after polite sips whilst wrapped in fur, riding a sled through Narnian snow and grazing on Turkish delights.
At only $12.99 a bottle, this drop could be classed as either a poor man’s port or trailer park treasure. Given it may be the only thing that won’t disappoint you this weekend, take Griselda’s advice and unearth this one from the cellar.
Pairs well with: Casual / binge drinking / pre-drinking on a crisp autumnal evening.
Sponsored by: Ormond (I wish).
Meal accompaniment: Chilli Dhaba Lamb Rogan Josh, the best meat on the market – other than myself.
Better living everyone,
THE REFERENDUM
Look, I get it. You’re all sick and tired of hearing about the referendum. Frankly, I’m sick of talking about it! But, here we are still referendum-ing. I promise we are coming to the end of it soon, but don’t get too excited. Odds are that we are going to be doing it all again in Sem 2. Democracy never sleeps, apparently.
I am letting you know that, despite the extensive amount of social media you have probably seen about the Capping Show, there is more going on within OUSA than just how to train your fresher and the Selwyn Ballet, and we want your advice. I know, crazy right?
As I’m sure some of you know, there is a referendum happening, and with the voting for the referendum fast approaching we don’t want you to forget about it. Preferably we’d love for you to care about it, but even if it's just something for you to skim while pretending to do your readings, we’ll still take that as a win.
Now I know many people don’t know what I do within the Exec, and honestly most of you probably don’t care, but this is one of my babies and I want to make sure it is done as amazingly as possible. That includes making sure you’re informed and hopefully involved.
After sending off an extremely revised list of questions to lawyers for mediation, we have the final copy and are ready for you all to see. But we still want you to have a chance to ask us questions about the questions. Now imagine one of those Uncle Sam posters saying “WE WANT YOU” – ‘cause we do. We want your feedback and we want your opinions. OUSA represents you, the students, so we want to make sure we represent what you want.
Come along to our forum on the 20th of May (it’s a Tuesday) at 12pm in the Main Common Room. Ask us anything (we’d prefer it to be about the referendum though) or just sit quietly and absorb the bureaucratic drama like you’re watching liveaction Suits. Either way, we’ll be there. And then don’t forget to vote! 26th to the 28th! It’s super easy to do! And we’ll even do the heavy-lifting for you by providing pros and cons for each question. We’ll even throw in a metaphorical gold star and three $50 New World Vouchers for the three days of voting.
Amy Martin Admin Vice President
Start a business! There's no time like the present to pile another thing onto your plate and at least you will be motivated by your bank account's potential for exponential growth. Get creative with it and be sure to invest in Instagram ads.
Old media to revive: Print TV guides
Eat a vegetable, otherwise there will be a disease named after you, and that is not something that can (or should) be put on your LinkedIn profile for prospective employers to see.
Old media to revive: Tumblr fanfic
Go out of your way to learn something new about someone you love. You’re usually a super attentive person but life has been getting in the way of that lately. The people around you will love and appreciate you even more, and you need a little loving.
Old media to revive: Chain emails
It's been a hard few weeks of forgetfulness, but it's imperative that you don't forget to take your washing out of the machine while it's wet. Mould grows quickly in Dunedin and a wet load of washing is the ideal breeding place for that shit.
Old media to revive: Shortland Street
Wear blue this week.
Old
A big secret is coming your way that will absolutely throw you off balance but also give you so much social clout. Try not to spread the secret-telling too thick with this one, you want people to keep telling you stuff.
Old media to revive: Cassettes
This year has felt a little bit like walking up a hill with a tonne of bricks strapped to your back, but never fear… it's nearly exam season. While it will get worse before it gets better, the break will rejuvenate you beyond belief and you will come back cooler than a cucumber. Just hold out for that!
Old media to revive: Yahoo answers
As your book turns to the next chapter it's time to really show yourself you are ready for the next step. That means a trip to Farmers to pick out your new signature scent of the season. Will you pick something spicy that shows how mature you are or will you go fruity to show that you like to have lots of fun? That's for you to decide.
Old media to revive: Buzzfeed quizzes
God you have had a shit week, but it's okay. The year is going pretty fast for you so the shittyness wont last too much longer. Right now if your life had a soundtrack it would just be the bridge to ‘Party 4 you’ by Charli XCX. Maybe it's time to try to change the song.
Old media to revive: Pirated films
Try a little more fibre in your diet, your tummy problems are starting to affect not only you but those around you too. If the fibre doesn't work then drinking enough to onset the booze poos will, with the added bonus of a fun night.
Old media to revive: TV infomercials
Try spending a little more time in the communal areas of your flat, your flatmates miss you. Uni has started to take its toll on your social life but don't let it ruin your home life.
Old media to revive: Flip phones
It’s time to reconnect with Papatūānuku. Go outside, get some fresh air and say “hi” to the sun. Slowing down and appreciating the world around you makes for a hell of a lot nicer day than bedrotting for 32 hours straight.
Old media to revive: Choose your own adventure books
It makes your skin glow and gives your eyes an extra little pop that hides the dark circles underneath them.
media to revive: Anarchist zines
SEND A SNAP TO US AT @CRITICMAG BEST SNAP EACH WEEKS WINS AN OUSA CLUBS & SOCS SAUNA VOUCHER
