Reviews | Issue 12

25 May Vol. 78 Issue 12

graduation / where to poo / tinder dates / university stereotypes / akl writers festival

Contents 04-10

News

14-27

05

More like a Bad-get

08

Council-tation

Regular Content 03 13 28 32 32 33 34 36 37 38 41 42 44 45 46

Editor Sam McChesney Design and Illustration Ella Bates-Hermans Lily Paris West Senior News Editor Sophie Boot News Editor Nicola Braid Chief Sub Editor Kimaya McIntosh Sub Editor Zoe Russell

Editorial Puzzles Books Moan Zone We Drank This So You Wouldn’t Have To Comics Science VUWSA Maori Matters Music Food Film Visual Arts Games Letters

Senior Feature Writer Philip McSweeney Feature Writers Charlotte Doyle Gus Mitchell Sharon Lam

Section Editors Ruth Corkill (Science) Sharon Lam (Visual Arts) Jack Young (Gaming) Jayne Mulligan (Books) Alice Reid (Music) Fairooz Samy (Film)

News Interns Emma Hurley Charlie Prout Tim Grgec Beckie Wilson Elea Yule

Other Contributors Robbie Coutts, Brontë Ammundsen, Liz Hoffmann, Kate Robertson, Tom and Luke, Lydia and Mitch, Patrick Savill, Benjamin Dunn, Kelly Moen, Jonathan Gee, Rick Zwaan, Te Owaimutu Crawford, Cavaan Wild, Stephen Hay, Cassie Ransom, Cameron Gray

News Photographer Jessica Hill

Guest Illustrator: Ur mum

Distributor Beckie Wilson

Features

I Went to Graduation and All I Got Was This Lousy Degree 14

Empire 16

Review: Study Aids 17

The Poo Review 18

Tinder Typicals 20

The Definitive Ranking of (Some) Students from (Some) NZ Tertiary Institutions 26

Contact Level 2, Student Union Building Victoria University P.O. Box 600, Wellington Phone: 04 463 6766 Editor: editor@salient.org.nz News Editor: news@salient. org.nz Website: salient.org.nz Twitter: @salientmagazine Facebook: facebook.com/ salientmagazine Advertising Email: sales@vuwsa.org.nz Phone: 04 463 6982 Printed By Guardian Print, Ashburton

About Us Salient is published by, but is editorially independent from, the Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association (VUWSA).

Salient is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA) and the New Zealand Press Council.

Salient is funded in part by Victoria University of Wellington students through the Student Services Levy.

The views expressed in Salient do not necessarily reflect those of the Editor, VUWSA, or the University.

Complaints People with a complaint against the magazine should first complain in writing to the Editor and then, if not satisfied with the response, complain to the Press Council. See presscouncil.org.nz/complain.php for more information.

Editorial Sam McChesney

This Editorial Sam McChesney is well known as a lazy editor, someone who— when he bothers to write his editorial at all—tosses it off at the last minute with very little thought, care or attention. He also tends to use swear words as a substitute for wit, the cunt. Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting much from his latest offering.

The editorial got off to an inauspicious start, with the use of unnecessarily complex words like “inauspicious”. With the pretentious verbiage and overbearing meta tone, McChesney seemed intent on alienating his readers from the outset.

After a lengthy and somewhat pointless introduction, McChesney seemed set to launch into one of his trademark thousand-word rants about student politics. But even that minimal level of substance was beyond him on this occasion. As the editorial wound aimlessly on, the sheer creative and intellectual bankruptcy on display became all too obvious. Here, dear readers, is a manchild who has run out of ideas.

I asked my colleagues to each give me three words to describe a typical McChesney editorial. The most common reply was “don’t know, never read them”, with “I don’t want to offend you so I’ll keep quiet” a close second. McChesney’s failure to capture or even vaguely grasp the zeitgeist was painfully apparent. His woeful ignorance of all things Drake probably doesn’t help.

The middle section of the editorial looked set to introduce some much-needed and bracing self-criticism, but before long this withered away into a kind of lame, overly self-aware smugness. The meta humour was by this point wearing thin, and McChesney was clearly struggling to fill a whole page with his empty, high-concept ramblings. He was 276 words in, and there wasn’t really anywhere new to go.

The editorial soon—very soon—led to a narratively and intellectually unsatisfying conclusion. The best thing that could be said of this particular piece was that it was short.

Verdict:

The piece could aptly be described as “the editor’s new clothes”.

04

Person of the week:

salient

BY THE NUMBERS 93 years The age of a woman who took her great-grandson to his junior prom.

£330bn The estimated cost the UK will incur should they withdraw from the EU

US$179.4m The record cost of Picasso’s Women of Algiers recently sold at auction in London

Benigno Aquino President of the Philippines Benigno Aquino has become the first leader in his region to offer shelter for thousands of Southeast Asian refugees fleeing persecution and poverty. A spokesperson for the President was quoted insisting that the Government would “continue to do [its] share in saving lives” in accordance with the United Nations’ refugee convention.

47% Proportion of jobs in the US that could be computerised within 20 years according to an Oxford University study

217,000 The number of followers President Obama’s Twitter gained in its first 45 minutes www.salient.org.nz

issue 12

05

NEWS. KEE N EYE FOR NEWS? S END ANY T IPS , LEADS OR GOSSIP TO NE WS @S ALIENT.ORG.NZ

More like a Bad-get!

Right? … Guys? …

Tim Grgec and Nicola Braid Last Thursday Minister of Finance Bill English, aka Mr. Smithers, released the Budget—the Government’s forecast for spending over the next financial year.

There were several different hopes for what the Budget this year might entail—Labour was hoping the Government wouldn’t make surplus like they promised, NZUSA President Rory McCourt was hoping National would stump up for everything from postgraduate allowances to university housing grants and the TEU was just hoping for fewer cuts to polytechs and universities around the country.

How this year’s Budget might affect you According to English, the Budget “contains $8 million over four years for initiatives to help vulnerable students participate more in education or training, and lifting achievement.” $32.1m has been assigned for Tertiary Education grants and other funding and $13.9m for tertiary scholarships and awards in 2016. This represents a respective 32.6 per cent and 7.87 per cent increase over 2015.

However, Government funding for student allowances have dropped from last year’s $539m to $520m.

The Government will introduce a funding boost for beneficiary and low-income families, and student allowance rates for families with children will increase by $25 per week.

Those enrolling in KiwiSaver will no longer receive a kickstart of $1000 from the Government.

Tertiary Education Minister Steven Joyce has announced more than $97m over the next four years to increase the number of students taking agriculture, optometry, pharmacy and physiotherapy, as well as STEM subject— science, technology, engineering and math.

Government proposes to allow universities to raise domestic fees by 3 per cent annually from next year, as opposed to the usual 4 per cent. Both the TEU and NZUSA have come out against the decision, pointing out that the Government has offered no alternative funding should universities implement the 1 per cent drop, overall leaving universities with less money to work with.

VUWSA President Rick Zwaan claimed the budget “failed to address the $1 billion drop, in real terms, of funding for tertiary education since 2009.”

Average wages are expected to rise by $7000 (to $63,000) by mid-2019.

Tax rates will remain at 10.5 cents per dollar on income up to $14,000 and 17.5 cents per dollar on income between $14,001 and $48,000.

Also, there was no surplus.

editor@salient.org.nz

06

Students stuck in the suburbs Charlie Prout

Flooding in Wellington last week left several students soggy and stranded.

TransMetro was forced to cancel all Wellington train services on Thursday 14 and Friday 15 May after heavy rain left slips on the Kapiti Line and flooding on the Johnsonville and Hutt Valley lines.

Many Victoria University students were left stuck in Wellington overnight, or were unable to attend classes due to the transport disruptions.

Bruce Ryan, a first year Law student who lives in Raumati Beach, told Salient he was trapped in Kapiti worrying about potential flooding in his house and those close to him.

Gu-rude advice shocks Massey students

Lynx Africa belongs in the bin, not on vaginas Sophie Boot

News

Second year Politics and Philosophy student Grace Carroll was also affected by the bad weather.

On a lighter note, one student suggested that “[t]he flooding in the Hutt is the Gods’ punishment for it being such a shithole”.

The floods meant that she was trapped in Wellington on Thursday night as the route to her house in Lower Hutt was cut off.

Victoria University students also provided more hands-on help.

“I had an essay due the next day and multiple assignments due the coming week, so it was already a stressful time. Adding to this were the stresses of making an emergency plan for accommodation, food and other necessities amid trying to study, I was absolutely knackered the next day through classes,” Carroll said.

As well as the disruption to students, some halls of residence provided emergency accommodation for students and academics that were stranded in central Wellington.

Overheard@Vic was abuzz with updates about the weather, directly advising students about the effects of flooding and routes that were cut off.

In response to another letter, Guru advises a letter writer who wants to persuade his girlfriend to have sex with him on campus to “starve her, and then she will eventually eat your willy.”

The author follows this by saying he was joking, and goes on to suggest ways the letter writer can “get your girl hungry for the dick” so that “eventually, she’ll be fucking you til the cows come home and you’re jizzing everywhere.”

Massey’s student magazine MASSIVE is in hot water after being back in print for only four issues.

Finally, Guru tells a letter writer who doesn’t like the smell of his girlfriend’s genitals to “get out the scrubbing brush… scrub the shit out of it… shove soaps up there… turn to Lynx Africa and spray the shit out of it.”

The latest issue of MASSIVE, published on Monday 18 May, has attracted strong criticism from students for the content of its sex advice column, “Ask Guru”.

Massey student Nicole Webber wrote a post complaining about the column’s content on the MaWSA (Massey at Wellington Students’ Association) Facebook page.

In the column, the anonymous “Guru” advises a letter writer who is concerned that her boyfriend is too tired to have sex with her that “it’s easy to fix him, all you need is a little time, and a lot of sexual innuendo, and gobbies… you can’t forget the gobbies.”

In her complaint, which has garnered over 125 likes, Webber says the column “is filled with inaccurate, offensive, misogynistic, hetero-normative, cis-sexist comments about female bodies and sexuality”.

Guru also suggests the letter writer “buy a dildo, slap his face with it”. www.salient.org.nz

salient

“[Guru] states that impromptu sexual acts mean ‘eventually she’ll be fucking you ‘til the cows come home and you’re jizzing

The Wellington Student Volunteer Army was formed on Thursday to help with the clean-up of Kapiti and Porirua—the group currently has over 100 members.

A small number were out and about in Porirua over the weekend, shovelling mud that had washed down from the hills and blanketed a number of properties in Rangituhi Crescent.

VUWSA President Rick Zwaan, who organised the army, told Stuff that “it was pleasing to see students giving up their time, especially with mid-year assignments due and exams just around the corner”.

The rain was a one in 50 years event, with some areas receiving 42mm in one hour.

everywhere’. In opposition to this, women are not a hive-mind where all it takes is a few particular tricks to make her want to have sex with you.

“Discussing shoving things up the vaginal cavity and spraying/scrubbing the shit out of it is incredibly threatening at a broader level, but especially so when discussing how someone should treat their partner.”

The post attracted further critical comments from Massey students.

“As a male I’m offended this douche thinks this sort of shit is funny. Did anyone proof read this crap, before letting this sexist trash be published.”

“Disgusting and derogatory—waiting to see what MAWSA will do about this”.

MaWSA President Tom Pringle said “these complaints have been taken very seriously by all of us here at MaWSA. “We have responded to all complainants and have escalated their concerns to the Media Advisory Committee to discuss the future of Guru. I will be attending this meeting and will be voicing the concerns on behalf of the students.”

News

issue 12

07

Wellington: chill out, man Elea Yule

People who live in Wellington are likely to be some of the most highly-strung individuals in the country, according to information released by the Ministry of Health.

Recent statistics show that nearly one in 14 people within the Capital and Coast District Health Board zone is likely to have anxiety or a depressive disorder. This puts Wellington in third place for the most stressed-out region in New Zealand, behind Hawke’s Bay and Manukau.

Wellington’s government and university sectors have been identified as being key contributors to its overall psychological strain.

Our infamously relentless winds were also considered a potential factor.

Wellington Anxiety Specialists clinical psychologist Michael Burrows explained the impact of over-stimulation on stress levels: “wind noise on the windows and the whistling of the wind increases the cognitive load.”

VUWSA Welfare Vice President Madeleine Ashton-Martyn said many different factors contribute to the strained mental health of Victoria’s students.

“Studying in Wellington isn’t easy; coursework is stressful, the quality of housing is severely lacking, it’s difficult to find work

with adequate wages. All these factors combined contribute to the issue.”

When interviewed, students at Victoria provided an array of contrasting comments regarding their own personal levels of stress and what those could be attributed to.

While the most common culprit of consternation was university workloads, some students did identify the weather as an influential factor.

“Storms, flooding—it’s not very good studying while knee deep in water,” Joel Rudolph said.

Another student said that “if you don’t come in, it’s stressful because you’ve missed [lectures], but coming is such a mission when it’s raining and stuff.”

However, rough weather and stress appeared generally to have little impact on students’ opinions of the city.

“Even though all this shit happens you’re still happy to be here,” Émilie Hope said. “I don’t think it would deter anyone.”

Other students felt no real stress at all. One student opined that “vices are the best form of stress relief ” and recommended “sinning in all senses of the word”.

should students be feeling overwhelmed, they were aware of the Student Health Services provided by Victoria to alleviate health concerns—physical or mental.

“I think we’re seeing the beginning of a real turning point at Vic,” Ashton-Martyn told Salient. “There’s a huge amount of work going on—particularly from Student Health—to address these issues.”

In 2014, 9195 students used the Student Health Service and 39,227 individual medical health consultations were provided, while in Student Counselling, 2185 students were registered and 6585 sessions took place.

Pam Thorburn, Director of Student Academic Services, told Salient that “health and wellbeing is a high priority for Victoria” and said a “myriad of initiatives” have been set up to address issues of stress and anxiety within the University.

These include the development of universitywide mental health and wellbeing plans for both staff and students, the establishment of a new University Wellbeing Committee, Staff Wellness Month, Stress Free Study Week, numerous workshops and campaigns across the University, as well as the provision of free influenza vaccinations.

Yet there was a general consensus that, editor@salient.org.nz

08

salient

News

Council-tation Nicola Braid

Last week consultation with staff and students continued regarding the future makeup of the University Council.

According to senior staff, Vic had the “most comprehensive” consultation process compared to other tertiary institutes in New Zealand.

In terms of feedback, Chancellor Sir Neville Jordan maintained that there had also been over 3000 responses to surveys seeking input on the Council from staff and students.

VUWSA’s forum took place on Monday and saw approximately 20 attendees, most of whom were VUWSA staff or Executive members, plus a shitload of pizza. The somewhat apathetic attendance was matched by the six tweets for #WhoShouldRuleTheUniversity and two for #VuwCouncil.

Lively discussions took place questioning whether a Council rep could be appointed by the VUWSA exec, how best to ensure Māori representation on the Council, and whether alumni should retain a vote.

Additionally, some students suggested there be a mandated gender balance on the body, and that VUWSA and University Council elections could be held simultaneously to ensure voter turnout.

On the other side of campus, 26 staff members (including the facilitators) gathered in a Murphy lecture hall to make their own thoughts on the Council known.

Overwhelmingly staff were concerned with maintaining academic integrity in the face of an increasingly commercially-driven culture and ongoing pressure on academics to produce research.

While the Exec kept the $450 they had accidentally spent on speakers under wraps, VUWSA President Rick Zwaan explained to those gathered that the Council was responsible for the “big picture”and “major investments” and was ultimately “where the buck stopped”.

Predictably, one staff member raised his concern that seats set aside for Māori wouldn’t be elected on the basis of “merit”.

Vice Chancellor Grant Guilford rebuffed the implication that election on the basis of race would mean inferior appointees and instead pointed out the worrying absence of any Māori representation on the current Council.

While some students present claimed the discussion was “way above [their] head”, others saw it as a welcome introduction to student politics.

University staff and VUWSA formally submitted their recommendations to the Council last Friday, along with the responses from their respective surveys.

www.salient.org.nz

Salient has taken the liberty of distilling for you the main discussion points of each forum, sans buzzwords like “collegial interdisciplinarity” and references to a “distinctly Victoria approach”.

What staff want: • • • • • •

A strong academic voice on the Council.

A relevant and accessible Council.

Representation of a diverse range of academics, not just “lawyers and accountants”.

Student and support staff representation.

Communication between the Council and other staff and boards.

A genuine representation of Vic’s Māori community and its interests, not a tokenistic one.

What students want: • • • • •

Balanced gender representation.

An accessible Council.

Representation of international students, women and minorities.

Student representation.

Māori representation elected by the Māori community at university.

issue 12

News

09

How to Lose a Council in 10 Days Nicola Braid University Chancellor Sir Neville Jordan gave an interview to Radio New Zealand following his recent Dominion Post article attacking the Wellington City Council’s Long Term Plan (LTP).

Sir Neville was criticised by Stuff punters for failing to provide reasons why a stronger focus on education needed to be included in the Council’s plans.

Sir Neville’s statements can be boiled down to the following points, which appear to be lifted directly from some sort of shitty romantic comedy: • •

University earns Master’s in Haste Sam McChesney Academic Committee has been prompted to re-examine its terms of reference in the wake of the University’s controversial approval of new Master’s programmes.

At an Academic Committee meeting in April, new 180-point Master’s programmes were “endorsed for forwarding” to Academic Board, which sits above Academic Committee and rubber-stamps its proposals.

However, nobody seemed to know what “endorsed for forwarding” meant. Members of Academic Board were led to believe that Academic Committee had approved the programmes in substance, but two of them— the Master’s of Engineering Practice and the Master’s of Software Development— had in fact been the subject of heated and unresolved debate at Academic Committee.

Academic Board ultimately approved the proposals, but student reps accused University management of misleading the body.

VUWSA Academic Vice-President Jonathan Gee, who sits on both Academic Committee and Academic Board, said the fiasco had led to some soul-searching at the most recent Academic Committee meeting, held on 18 May.

Academic Committee has virtually no formal processes and no standing orders, and its terms of reference have little substantive content. As a result, the Committee’s chair, Allison Kirkman, is to undertake a review of its processes.

The body is continuing to hear proposals for new 180-point Masters’ programmes, including preliminary proposals for a Master’s in Management and a Master’s in Marketing. Like the controversial Master’s of Software Development, neither would require prior knowledge of the field.

Gee expressed concern at the “proliferation” of these programmes at Victoria before the University had developed a settled policy on the programmes.

“The concern is that they’re putting forward these one-year, 180-point conversion Masters’ programmes… yet the working party looking into 180-point Masters’ is still examining the role of conversion Masters’ at the University,” he said.

“We’re going a bit too fast at this stage.”

Kirkman was unavailable for comment before this article went to print.

•

The University just wants the Council to talk about it more (and to spend more time with its friends).

They’ve been dancing around a relationship in the same city for years.

The Council isn’t recognising the University’s untapped potential (and like, doesn’t make the University feel special anymore).

Radio New Zealand Host Katherine Ryan was quick to point out that Sir Neville seemed “pretty steamed up about this” and rebuffed Sir Neville’s claims that his op-ed was “not a serve to the Wellington Council” (he wasn’t being mean, he just thought they should know, you know?).

Despite Ryan’s continuous attempts to identify actual recommendations for the plan from Sir Neville, the closest she got was something about “pathway programmes” between the region’s high schools and tertiary institutions.

After constantly referring to a “glaring omission” in the LTP, listeners eventually realised that Sir Neville simply wanted mentions of the word “education” in documents as a means of “setting the discourse”. (It’s like I’m hardly even here sometimes.)

Sir Neville pointed out that the Council and the University had both existed in the city for at least one hundred years, and implied that he was sick of their on-againoff-again relationship. One assumes that this sorry saga will end in some sort of climactic beach meeting between Sir Neville and the Council, in which one or both parties admit to having been “idiots”. editor@salient.org.nz

10

News

salient

Scarfies still an easy target For an underwhelming story

Emma Hurley TVNZ has defended its coverage of Otago student culture in a recent episode of Sunday.

The episode was called “an unwarranted attack on the students of Dunedin, making them out to be out of control drunkards”. A petition demanding the network apologise attracted over 3000 signatures.

TVNZ remained adamant that it provided balanced coverage. A spokesperson said that “students and residents were both represented in the story, from which people will make up their own minds.”

In reaction to the coverage, New Zealand Union of Students’ Associations (NZUSA) President Rory McCourt told the Otago Daily Times that Otago University and the Otago University Students’ Association (OUSA) promote a culture of student drinking.

McCourt said that the University “creates a culture where people want to break loose”, and “markets itself on that student experience”.

OUSA President Paul Hunt said he was “furious NZUSA commented on this issue… The ‘student experience’ at Otago is not a negative, it is a positive and unique factor that we are known for.”

Hunt felt that “the anti-social behaviour of some individuals” should not be presented as the “student experience” in general.

He said OUSA is known for its professional management of events, including “stringent harm minimisation measures”.

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Hunt accused McCourt of “hijacking” the issue without consulting OUSA. OUSA is a fee-paying member of NZUSA, although it has signalled its intention to withdraw its membership later this year.

McCourt claims his position was misrepresented by the Otago Daily Times, who “made it seem, through selective quoting, that I was agreeing with Sunday’s depiction of students”.

On 11 May various Dunedin institutions including the Dunedin City Council, Police, the Southern District Health Board, Otago University, OUSA and local businesses issued a joint statement on drinking culture.

While the signatories stated “the worst behaviour comes from a minority”, they acknowledged a “pressing need” to curb alcoholfuelled behaviour, keep young people safe and “protect the livelihoods” of Dunedin’s businesses and tertiary education providers.

They claimed that factors such as dense student residential areas, social media that enables large parties at short notice, cheap and widely available off-licence alcohol, and New Zealand’s problematic attitude to alcohol have combined to create the current problems.

www.salient.org.nz

Signatories intend to “work together collaboratively” to create positive change. They insist sanctions are not the sole solution and positive measures such as “environmental improvement” and “socialising alternatives” must be considered.

issue 12

News

11

The Executive has been busy with assignments Eye on Exec

T

here were three absentees, so the 19 May Executive meeting was very small.

President Rick was engaging with Te Aro students in a University Council consultation forum that Salient can’t help suspecting was even smaller than the Executive meeting.

By the time of the next meeting, assuming he’s back by then, it will have been over a month since Rick last said “I move that we move into committee for reasons of commercial sensitivity”. Salient hopes that Rick is holding up okay, and for his vicarious pleasure will include a running counter of the number of times the Exec decided to use its favourite invisibility cloak.

Committee of the whole counter: 0.

Campaigns Officer Nathaniel was also away, accompanying Rick to the forum and, between the two of them, probably raising the forum’s attendance by around 50 per cent.* Education Officer Ellen was the third absentee—Ellen is an RA and has a kind of joint custody agreement whereby her hall gets her every second Tuesday. This is partly Salient’s fault so we won’t mock it too much, and also we don’t want to make jokes about broken homes. We’re much too classy for that, so we’ll stick with poos and genitalia.

In the absence of the prez, the meeting was chaired by Jono, the Academic ViceRick, who aimed to finish in under an hour.

Madness. Good Rory, the Wellbeing and Sustainability Officer, announced plans for VUWSA to host a Wellington leg of a kind of global youth COP conference in early June during the runup to the Paris 2015 climate conference. Rory expects a turnout of around 100 and has allocated $2000 to catering— so if you’re hungry and keen to chat about how fucked the Maldives are, head along and score yourself a couple of free meals.** Committee of the whole counter: 0.

The Exec then gave updates on their work.

Treasurer-Secretary Jacinta has been busy with assignments. However, she’s been doing “lots of stuff ” on Policy Committee, so “watch this space”. Salient searched for “tenterhooks” on Wikipedia and learned the following:

Sam McChesney “Tenterhooks are hooks in a device called a tenter. Tenters were originally large wooden frames which were used as far back as the 14th century in the process of making woollen cloth… lengths of wet cloth were stretched on the tenter (from Latin tendere, meaning “to stretch”) using tenterhooks (hooked nails driven through the wood) all around the perimeter of the frame to which the cloth’s edges (selvedges) were fixed, so that as it dried the cloth would retain its shape and size. In some manufacturing areas, entire tenter-fields, larger open spaces full of tenters, were once common.”

Welfare Vice-President Madeleine has been busy with assignments. She’s also been working on creating a student wellbeing space in Level 2 of the Student Union Building, where students can go to chill out and not think about study.*** She’s also been doing a lot of work following the flooding, and has been working with Rick on putting together a student volunteer army to help those affected.

Engagement Vice-President Toby has been busy with assignments. He has started planning for Re-Orientation, which will potentially involve interactive events in the Hub. Good Rory has been busy with assignments.

He announced the first inter-hall energy saving competition to be held between Weir House and Te Puni.

Naughty Rory hasn’t been busy with assignments, but he has been busy with sports. The Clubs and Activities Sports Officer reported various sports-field-related disputes, presumably to be resolved by a keg race and a chant-off. Naughty Rory has also been trying to revive the Tertiary Sports Commission, which died in the wake of Voluntary Student membership, but it’s “not looking hopeful”.

Equity Officer Chennoah has been working with rep groups to try to formalise their relationships with VUWSA. Chennoah wants rep groups to be present at Open Day but accused the University of deliberately putting up barriers. Chennoah has also been trying to have students’ preferred names be better available to tutors and lecturers—trans

students have been inadvertently outed in tutorials and small lectures by staff incorrectly using their birth names.

Jono has been busy with assignments. He has also been tied up with various committees, including the first meeting of the student academic committee this year. He had also just been to a meeting of the “grownup” Academic Committee, where a “conversation [is] going on about the proliferation of 180-point Master’s [programmes]”. Faculties are continuing to capitalise on the softened standards for Master’s degrees by pushing for new, barely credible programmes, some of which require no prior knowledge of the field.

Jono has also made a “Know Your Rights” pamphlet for students dealing with the University, which will be distributed around campus and in the halls. He also wants to put it on the VUWSA website, despite the fact that nobody will find it on that site because the site is terrible.

Speaking of the website, General Manager Indigo gave an update on the plans to overhaul it. There are two companies competing for the contract: an established company, and a student-run company with relatively little experience. The Exec didn’t want to make a decision while three of its members were away, so they settled for making a decision about who would make the decision. Indigo gently reminded the Exec that in the real world, people need to make decisions and can’t just consult each other forever.

Finally, if you thought the purchase of a new van had brought to an end VUWSA’s vanrelated dramas, you were wrong. The new van had been fitted with the wrong battery, which died and needed to be replaced.

“Unfortunately,” Indigo said, “it cost us a lot of money.”

Committee of the whole counter: 0. __________ *this is baseless and slanderous speculation. **this was not necessarily the gist of Rory’s message. ***Victoria already has one of these—it’s called the Business School. Zing! editor@salient.org.nz

Puzzles

issue 12

Sudoku

13

Quiz:

3

1. What is the square root of -1?

2. How long is a piece of string?

3. Why does time exist?

4. What is the answer to this question?

5. There are three doors, and behind one door is a million dollars.

Is the money behind the left-hand, right-hand, or centre door?

6. Why are we here?

REVIEW THESE PUZZLES! Enter your thoughts in the space below, then cut out the form and stick it on the door of the VUWSA offices (Level 4, Student Union Building). _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ editor@salient.org.nz

Features

14

salient

I Went To Graduation and All I Got Was This Lousy Degree

Sharon Lam

For students all across the world, years of study culminate in a perfunctory ritual known as “graduation”. After three years of napping at Victoria’s Te Aro campus, it was my turn to partake in the tradition, and along with hundreds of other graduands, we flooded into the Michael Fowler Centre on the evening of 13 May. Things started awkwardly late; after fifteen minutes of shuffling around (with a notable absence of trailers to keep the audience entertained), us graduands finally filed into the hall to catch the end of the haka. This was followed by the national anthem, which I had not sung since high school. I was glad that the awkward gap between the Māori and English verses still existed.

With the opening credits out of the way, the first act of the night made its way onto the stage. It was an old white guy that I have never seen in my life, but I am guessing has some sort of important role at the University. He proceeded to give a speech in which he kept hammering on about Victoria being in the top 4 per cent of universities in the world, which was very clever on his part as that sounds much nicer than 275th in the world. His performance also included an attempted runway walk, which was funny because men don’t normally do that sort of thing—ha ha ha!

Personally, I found the first act very hard to follow—it seemed that we were all gathered here for some sort of congratulatory event regarding the past few years at university. I was not sure what we were being congratulated on. A montage played in my mind of the past three years—falling asleep at my desk… falling asleep in lectures… asleep in bed instead of being in class… and when actually awake, always looking confused… It could only be that I was being congratulated upon the fluke that has been my academic career thus far.

To add to my confusion, a horde of characters were hurriedly introduced, and though all were different actors, each played out an identical performance of walking across the stage, shaking hands with the old white guy and then sitting back down again. This was accompanied by undirected, but widespread, audience participation in which everyone smashed their hands together to make a sort of noise.

This repetitive series of performances went on for some time, and was immensely boring, so I was relieved when the first musical act of the night was introduced. Sticking to a local cast, a jazz group from the New Zealand School of Music began playing. The music www.salient.org.nz

was pleasant, though at one point the jazz singer tried to comb his fingers through his hair but his hair was too short, which made me think about how 100 per cent of my exes complained about their thinning hair and then I momentarily thought about death.

After the musical memento mori, the previous performance continued, still with different actors (where did they get all these people from?). The routine briefly deviated when one actor took out his phone and took a selfie after shaking hands, at which the audience erupted into loud laughter and applause as if they had just seen a smartphone for the first time in their lives. I groaned loudly and thought of a multitude of better options for comic relief—not

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I begin to mentally play “fuck, marry, kill” with each person walking across the stage. Kill, kill, kill, kill. I hear the voices of friends telling me that I am too romantically picky.

Kill, kill, kill, kill.

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disappointment, this was left unanswered.

The penultimate act of the night was, to my excitement, a magic act! It consisted of a fellow classmate presenting a speech to the packed out theatre, without melting into a puddle of fear. There was barely even a mumble, nor sweat to be seen—truly, truly impressive—and I still have no idea how she could have done it.

Watch out, David Blaine.

Finally, the evening ended with “the” graduation song, which to my surprise and confusion was not the one by Vitamin C. Instead, an old stuffy Latin number was chosen, and for plebs who are not fluent in Latin (tonay emay foay oursecay), it was titled something that could have been mistaken for “Grainy Anus”, with lyrics that could have sounded like “no hummus, no hummus”.

Overall, the evening did not live up to the hype, nor the minimum three-year waiting list and gross ticket prices that began at $30,000.

It also fared poorly in terms of entertainment, with poor plot development, confusing motives, and far too many characters to keep track of. Because of this I spent most of the night wishing that I was at home watching Gilmore Girls in bed, but then again, I am always wishing I was at home watching Gilmore Girls in bed.

shaking his hand and going “sike” instead, having a pig walk across the stage for me, or loudly asking for my tens of thousands of dollars back.

Once the audience settled back down, I found myself being directed to stand up and follow the line of my classmates onto the stage. The fourth wall was being broken! Soon my name was announced and I felt very bemused as the audience also smashed their hands together for me as I, too, shook the old white guy’s hand. Continuing the theme of the night, my time on stage felt like a very unnecessary gesture and I felt my facial expression adjust to this (which, to my mother’s disappointment, the photos would later prove).

I sat back down to conclude my performance, though not before receiving a take-home prop, a piece of paper in a folder, which I will most likely misplace in the very near future. Then, the second musical act—a trombone quartet, introduced as music students “specialising in trombone”. Jealousy surged through me—how I wish I could have a Bachelor of Architectural Studies specialising in Trombone… The quartet then began to play and I found myself caught completely unaware as the most beautiful music flooded the theatre. It was divinely smooth, like melted butter being poured into my ears and I felt like crying. I watched as the shiny gold instruments erotically dance up and down in the talented hands of the four musicians and I am mesmerised, finally understanding paraphilia. I watched the faces of the musicians as they do a pufferfish-like thing, if pufferfish were suave and incredibly attractive. As they finish, I smash my hands together with extra force and wonder why there aren’t more trombone boy bands.

We then had to sit through even more of the same performance— walking, shaking hands, more walking—and as boredom reigns, I begin to mentally play “fuck, marry, kill” with each person walking across the stage. Kill, kill, kill, kill. I hear the voices of friends telling me that I am too romantically picky. Kill, kill, kill, kill. At this point in the evening it is also interesting to note a change in costume, from orange hoods to blue ones, denoting a change in faculty. I believe this was done to raise an obvious question—who would win in a fight, an architecture student or a law student? To everyone’s editor@salient.org.nz

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Empire, or why am I not watching Poldark which is significantly better and you goons should watch it

Robbie Coutts

I’m not going to lie. I don’t really watch television, except for Poldark, that ridiculously over the top and clichéd, yet also absolutely riveting period drama currently screening on Prime. Go watch it, or you won’t learn about the semi-interesting politics of love affairs and copper mines in Cornwall. But when I do watch other shows, it’s usually reluctantly or at the behest of friends, family, and everybody that’s outside my bedroom. That’s how I watched House of Cards, and that’s how I unfortunately watched Empire.

I went up to Woodville for a weekend recently. Woodville is a quiet town in between Palmerston North and what lies ahead north of it. My dad recently moved up there to get away from the rat race, and hence I go up to Woodville every now and again. When I went there on my most recent excursion, Dad said he had a TV show episode he had to review, and he asked/demanded if I wanted to/ that we were going to watch it. So thus we sat down and watched the first episode of Empire.

And it was actually puerile. If you haven’t been paying attention to ad breaks, Empire is a show about an African American recording artist named Lucious Lyon who heads a company named Empire.

He forged Empire using drug money from marijuana sold by his wife, who takes the rap and goes to jail. Cookie, the wife, comes back from jail, and makes fairly reasonable demands, considering she just spent 17 years in jail for this guy. He denies all of her demands, until she threatens him with her going public about the drug money, effectively ending Empire and its chances at becoming a publicly traded company.

But here is where I stopped enjoying the show. I pieced two and two together, a fantastic achievement for an arts student, and realised that the whole show relied on two things. One: African American stereotypes. Two: incredibly flat characters who are absolutely impossible to attach to. Every single person in this show that isn’t white or another ethnicity is steeped heavily in African American stereotypes. Lucious is an ex-gangster who viciously abused his homosexual son. Cookie is abusive towards her sons, resorting to whipping them with brooms. The three sons themselves are not perfect either. The eldest is a whitewashed businessman with no personality of his own. The middle child, the aforementioned www.salient.org.nz

illustrated by ur mum.

LGBT son, is a copycat Pharrell Williams in voice, while the youngest makes me feel like I’m watching Lil Wayne. And I don’t intend to be racist, not at all. These characters literally are this way.

And it’s a disgusting reliance on stereotypes that condemns this show. That and the awfully flat characters, who are so cold and morally apathetic you want to kick them down a stairwell.

A poor showing by Lee Daniels. Avoid this show if possible.

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Review: Study Aids

Because god forbid we put in effort when there might be a substance to do it for us!

Brontë Ammundsen

Coffee

A beverage with potential, but not without risk. Depending on your personality, coffee may be the kick you need to make up for your all-night Netflix spree and hold your eyes open without the need of a specula made of toothpicks. However, be cautious of the easy descent into the dark underworld of pretentious coffee drinkers: it’s a slippery slope from your first experimental “flat white, two sugars” to “large-soy-doubleshot-caramel-macchiato-latte-no-foam”, drunk exclusively by waistcoat-clad hipsteresque pseudo-intellectuals as they out-critique one another over the burnt, bitter, over-extracted, and wrong-origin, because everybody knows that it’s the strength of the coffee that makes you a man, and pretentiousness is the most true demonstration of penis length without whipping it out on the counter in Vic Books to assure the world you’ve got the equipment to earn the right to a mere trim mocha.

If you can’t resist joining the Cocky Coffee Club, at least its common laxative effect will help flush the shit out of your system before you settle down to write your essay—though many rely on exactly this shit to reach their word counts, buyers beware.

energy drinks

An excellent supplement for the coffeeaverse, it’s hard to go wrong with a drink that is far too literally “artificially flavoured” (in that it simply tastes artificial—maybe why they forgo recognisable flavour names

in lieu of the subtly ambiguous labels like “thunder” and “zing”) with a hefty dose of caffeine and sugar.

An easy aid to keep your mind on track as your midnight deadline looms—but beware the imminent warnings from your peers as they raise their eyebrows and remind you how bad they are for you as they sit in the healthy cradle of their triple-shot-trimhazelnut-praline-frappuccino-extra-cream.

ritalin

Now it’s hard for me to review Ritalin without bringing in bias due to the fact that I get it prescribed due to my near-debilitating ADHD, but despite my complaints about the side effects I tend to have a barrage of peers telling me how lucky I am to get it without illegal measures.

I’m not entirely sure what’s so lucky about the nausea, laxative effect (what is it with laxatives and study aids?), increased heart rate, loss of sense of self, unexplainable anxiety and nervousness, strict dose control regulations, trichotillomania, constant “offers” (see: relentless nagging) from friends to buy some, and insomnia that accompanies the apparently-desirable pill I have to take if I want to function at normal levels… But if these sound like your idea of a good time then by all means, continue to gaze in envy as every decision I make regarding eating, sleeping, drinking, and socialising is dictated by a tiny pellet of compressed powder, and don’t give up hope you can find someone to source you the goodies.

Note: I’m told that grinding and snorting some “ritz” is the best fuel to clean your whole house after an illicit party with only three hours before your parents get home.

Marijuana

Not so much a “study aid” as a great way to knock the edge of the stress at the realisation you’ve pissed your years at university away and can now enter the “real world”, broke and under-qualified for anything (yet ironically pretty much on par with your peers who actually graduated).

Facebook Blockers

After study week is thwarted by investing your time into finding a drink or pill to make your course content find its own way into your brain without ACTUALLY studying, a potential “last resort” is to spend less time sharing your essay word count and deadline countdown on Facebook or Instagramming a sepia-tone picture of your #study in the #park with your #friends (and of course the #reminder you’re in #wellington and the #appreciated alert that it’s #sunny for the #unaware) and more time doing work. Facebook blockers are a great way to cut out the constant bleeping of chat as your friends share how #fucked they are for exams, and eradicate distractions like stalking your ex and then needing a study break so you and your flatmates can agree their new partner is like, totes a downgrade.

All jokes aside, software for blocking Facebook and other guilty pleasures is free for download, so Google away and watch your grade average make one last desperate reach out of the “fuckit I’ll be a stripper” pit. editor@salient.org.nz

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The Poo Review

The best places to take a dump on campus Philip McSwizzlepants

We begin the spans of our lives as helpless, yowling, crying, shitting menaces. We don’t really evolve from this stage of infancy so much as learn to hide our true selves better. So, as appallingly biological as it is, even as “mature” “adults” we still shit, crap, poo, void our bowels, excrete stools, drop ass apples and brown bombs; most of us on a daily basis—though depending on your metabolism, anything from twice a day to once every three days is healthy.

For some people, having bowel movements is a source of shame or a thing they only feel comfortable doing in the privacy of their own bathroom (or bedroom, I guess, though I hope not for obvious hygiene reasons). There’s even a term for it: parcopresis, otherwise known as “Safe Toilet Syndrome” or the adorable “shy bowel”.

But no matter how many prunes you eat or how “regular” you are, chances are that at some stage of your university experience you’ll need to take a poo on campus. For those of you with more spastic colons, this is doubly true.

You really needn’t fear. Bodies are bodies, and they create and discard malodorous substances from time to time and this is Fine and Good. Pooing is just something else in the long line of things that bodies just do. Treat it with ambivalence, or even pleasure. That hearty release feels gooood. It’s a chance for two to 20 minutes to yourself, and it’s been scientifically proven that reading on the toilet is at least twice as good reading anywhere else.

But, for those of you still a bit worried, I’ve compiled a list of places to poo on campus and how they rank in terms of privacy and amenities. You might want to explore all the facilities on offer, or you might pick a favourite toilet and steadfastly refuse to be caught with your pants down in any other. Both curiosity and loyalty are virtues.

I’ve just received a call from the VUWSA sewerage advisors who have told me that that’s enough shit out of me for one article (this joke was very hard to manure facture, I’ll have you know) so all I’ll say is that I hope that this article turns your year into an anus mirabilis. Catch you later defecators.

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The Library—First of all, it should go without saying that the bathrooms on Levels One and Two are for Emergency Use Only. Murphy’s Law being what it is, you’re guaranteed to run into someone you know en route and make chit-chat while you desperately try and stop that fart from seeping out. The toilets attract thoroughfare and don’t offer much privacy, and the facilities are so heavily used the ambience is grotty as. The rest of the libraries bathrooms are much the same, albeit on a smaller scale.

HOWEVER. Those major-hoppers/post-grads/endless-coursewww.salient.org.nz

illustrated by ur mum.

repeaters among you might remember the days when the library had an accessible Level 9. The facilities there were without doubt the best in the entire university. They were situated down a secluded corridor, were never—never—occupied, had a warm tap with perfect pressure and beautifully smelling soap. This idyll could exist still; alas I lack the fortitude and courage to press 9 on the elevator. If any braver soul out there wants to hazard disparaging looks from the I.T. department, please report back. Seriously. I need to know.

The Toilets near Maki Mono—Absolutely brilliant at night and during the evening, when they are weirdly un-

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Tinder Typicals Liz Hoffman

After a long-term relationship, going into The Campsite summer as a single pringle gave me the Booty Call Christmas is often paired with perfect opportunity to explore the secret Family disadvantages, such as having your social limited to babysitting preteen cousins underworld of Tinder. Armed with wine, life and shoddy reception on your phone.

After barely three days of this, I needed to pent-up sexual frustration, and apparently socialise. For a beach astutely nicknamed “butt-fuck-nowhere, Northland”, my low standards, I was “lucky” enough to meet expectations weren’t exactly high. But there were two people to message me with at least some effort to spell and punctuate a plethora of your Tinder Typicals. (apparently those are my criteria), and I was lured by a hot 22-year-old builder to play beer pong with “his bros” at their campsite cabin.

“Bros” turned out to be all too literal—I found myself engaged in a raucous game of beer pong while his cousins, aunts, uncles, and parents drifted in and out of the room.

The fact we had “met” on Tinder just three hours earlier was apparently no secret, and it turns out no amount of alcohol makes it any less weird when a near-stranger walks you to his tent in front of his entire extended family, all 100 per cent aware of what’s about to occur.

In light of the awkwardness I drank far too much, but apparently I enjoyed myself enough that the lack of soundproofing a tent offers was commented to him the next day.

2/5

Much like a real date, don’t invite a stranger to a pre-bang meet-thefamily bonanza. Also, I lost a favourite pair of underwear.

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The “I’m Going To Act Like It’s A Date When We Both Know It’s Just Sex” The second of the Northland Bachelors and I coordinated a time to meet up, going into “town” for some pool and beer (“town” being one road with a motel, pub, liquor store, Pak’n’Save, and Farmers).

There was no pretending this was any more “time-filling” for either of us, yet he seemed insistent on trying to pretend he wasn’t just “using me for sex”. I wasn’t exactly playing hard to get—nobody puts a wink emoticon in every sentence unless they’re giving you the go ahead. Come on, what’s wink-worthy about “great, see you in ten ;)”? Pool was fun, the banter great, and his confidence (see: biceps) was definitely appealing. The awkward attempts at “lingering eye contact”, handholding, and referencing our blatant meet-up as a “date” was less so.

We later drove to a lake for a swim (see: chance to get halfway naked sooner), then for a walk through the nearby forest—for I am classy if nothing else. The kissing begins, and his helicopter tongue motions are unappreciated. It’s two minutes tops before we’re finished (well, he’s finished), and he launches into an “it’s not you, it’s me, I’m just not after a relationship” type spiel, while I raise my eyebrows and shatter his illusion that he was ever more than a space-filler.

(Pun intended.)

1/5

When you both know it’s just sex, don’t try to garnish it. And don’t Tinder if you think helicopter motions are appropriate when kissing.

The “Tinder Date = Relationship” A cute, chatty lad caught my eye, and it was a promising start. I eagerly anticipated our first meetup at a local bar. The conversation flowed, the drinks were many, and after a good three or so hours of drinking and chatting, we stumbled back to his nearby flat to watch a movie (yeah, sure. “Watch a movie”).

We do the obligatory “set up a movie” before giving in and making out with some sneaky feelskies on the couch before relocating to the bedroom. Unfortunately, the compatibility seemed to end there. He began “heading downstairs”, and frankly had me almost missing the Northland helicopter-mouth. I had to restrain myself from pointing out you didn’t actually eat it, but instead distracted him by acting as if he’d done so well, I just NEEDED him now. This led to a session of such out-ofsync nooky that I found myself pondering mid-coitus if there was such a thing as “sex dyslexia”. There was the awkward failure-toget-it-in, the over-extended-pull-out with the subsequent painful genital-collision, and of course, the universally dreaded “oh-Godwrong-hole!”.

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The “Hey I Just Swiped You, BTW I’m Crazy” In all fairness, this isn’t just one person, and I never actually took any of these as far as actually meeting. This Tinder character comes in various forms—the ones I found myself the most berated by were those that thought that one small exchange entitled them to flood my Tinder and Facebook (yes, they add you on Facebook after barely more than a swipe right)—with 24/7 noise.

Talking to anybody on Tinder is a constant risk: one minor conversation may be all it takes for them to spend over a week sending you hourly “hey, how are you”, “whatup”, “wanna meet in person?”, “you’re hot btw” messages, sometimes followed up by a “you there?”. Seriously people, wait for a reply. If there isn’t one, stop trying.

-10/5

It’s not that you’re saying the wrong secret code of unpunctuated crap to lure me in: I just don’t like you, and do not want your penis. Simple.

I was able to overlook the awful sex, though while I enjoyed his company, there was really no “spark”. Fortunately, there was never a conversation regarding the topic of relationships, so I assumed we were just friends. It was a shocking two weeks before I discovered that he was under the (completely wrong) impression that we were formally dating, and (even more wrong) exclusively so. Oops. The cherry on top was when my first attempt at dumping him was thwarted by a phone call from his mother mid-conversation, informing him his grandfather had died.

3/5

Nice guy, and the “Tinder meet” itself can’t be blamed for what followed. editor@salient.org.nz

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No matter what I said about my workload, job, degree, or goals, his responses mocked how “adorable” I was, taking myself so seriously.

The False Advertising I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fairly confident about my appeal. I don’t sit around gazing upon the glory that is my body, but I know how to lure a man’s interest (have a vagina).

Regardless, I felt almost out of my depth as I stumbled upon a fella so striking, I felt my physical prowess shying away as I gazed upon his gorgeous face and chiselled abs—I was even able to tolerate the obnoxiousness of shirtless Tinder pics, because frankly it would be an injustice NOT to share that with the world.

This one was a stunner, and heck, I doubt I would’ve cared if he’d been thicker than a plank (in conversation that is, you filthy buggers). My lady-loins were a-burning as I donned my tightest pants and most breastacular top for our appointed engagement. Lo and behold, my lady-boner was premature. The sculpted Abercrombieand-Fitch-worthy torso was in fact a relic of his long-gone rugby days, from over three years earlier. The transition from sportsstud to desk-job had, he said, taken a toll of around 30kg—that’s right, he acknowledged the “bit of a difference” between the profile and the person.

0/5

I’m not saying that I’m superficial, or that I would never “date a fat person”— I’m saying I was on Tinder for a shallow screw, not a social experiment. www.salient.org.nz

The Misogynist What began as promising Tinder banter soon transitioned to actual txting. Our little chats had depth, the flirting was clever, and it was a couple days before we hit up a pub.

His London accent was a bit annoyingly cockney, but apart from that his charm was intact.

It was downhill from there. Being eight years younger than him, he deemed anything I had to say about university or work inferior—no matter what I said about my workload, job, degree, or goals, his responses mocked how “adorable” I was, taking myself so seriously. Being a few beers in, I was more tolerant than I should’ve been, and let his wankerisms slide. With false hope at redemption, we went back to his after he offered to cook dinner. We somehow got to the “what’s your number” chat, and though less than half of his, my quantity of conquests apparently entitled him to say that I was “a bit of a slag, wasn’t I?” Cue his flatmate bounding in yielding vast amounts of pot—we put dinner on hold in lieu of a much-needed session. For some reason that eludes me now, my high-andwasted self just wanted to get some, and we went back to mine for some unsurprisingly crap sex. It was, of, course, all about him— not that there really was “all that much of him” either. If I had to name our sex after a movie, I think 10 Things I Hate About You would about sum it up. As I lay back

to finally get some much-wanted sleep, I discovered yet another oh-how-brilliant quirk of the stud: apparently pot gives him full body eczema. Cue being woken up all night by the melodious tune of nails on skin.

In the cold light of day (and sobriety), he proved himself an even bigger cock than I had realised. I’m unsure which part it was exactly, but between telling me that after seeing power tools in my room, in his paranoid high mind he genuinely wondered if I would murder him at 3am (can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind), and giving me a ten-minute-long spiel about how advantageous it was to be a man and how crap being a woman is, I came to the all-too-obvious realisation that my stint with Tinder had come to a crashing (and hungover) end.

(And I still drove him to work afterwards, WHY!)

-100/5

Abraham Hollingsworth Swampbabe.tumblr.com

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The definitive ranking of (some) students from (some) NZ tertiary institutions Kate Robertson

The Alty Otago Pissheads These students are best known for their beer-guzzling abilities and their undying love for “spinning yarns”. Their weekends start on a Wednesday and finish when the hangover finally subsides sometime around midday Monday. Appearance-wise, they’re almost so alternative that if they lived in any other part of the country they’d be teetering on the edge of homelessness. They had pioneered the man-bun long before any of us knew who Matt Corby was and work the David Bain jersey like no others. They’re also the future faces of our medical profession, who seemed to have conveniently skimmed over the first year health sci lecture where they drum into you the fact that alcohol is a group 1 carcinogen. Classic. Always down for a good time, they’re the friends you visit for the weekend, but not a day longer. Yes, it is tempting to just let the good times roll, but you do not want to be anywhere near these guys the night before an exam—complete and utter carnage. ‘Nuff said.

Conversational skills: 25/25 Style: 16/25 Worldliness: 14/25 Rowdiness: 25/25 Total: 80/100

The AUT Children of Privilege These characters can be spotted from a mile away, more often than not sporting black skinnies, a fluffy jumper, Roshes, and dripping in Karen Walker jewellery. They still live at home with Mummy and Daddy on the Shore and have enough Instagram followers to make you wonder what you’re doing wrong in life. They’re sickeningly sweet when you get them alone (I put this down to the fact that the uni is undoubtedly 95 per cent public relations majors), but become incredibly intimidating when travelling in a pack (think Regina George pre-getting hit by the school bus in Mean Girls). They’ve seen the world, but their cultural immersion went no further than the Eiffel Tower and Euro Disney. They down bottles of Moët in the same manner that we would an $8 bottle of Passion Pop, and dedicate their nights to harassing the DJ for one just more Nicki Minaj song—they’re as basic as they come.

Conversational skills: 0/25 Style: 20/25 Worldliness: 10/25 Rowdiness: 16/25 Total: 46/100 www.salient.org.nz

The UC Copycats Despite UC being a pretty big campus, there is very much a small town feel about it, something that becomes particularly noticeable when there is gossip to be spread. I feel for these students. They’re like that cousin your parents made you hang out with at school because they didn’t have that many friends. Always just a fraction behind the hottest trends and lacking originality, you can expect to see a lot of students who look as though they fell right out of a Glassons or Hallensteins lookbook. They also live in an absolute shit of a city, there’s just nothing to do (I can say this because I’m from there). They literally have no choice but to drink away the weekends.

On a more positive note, if an endless supply of logical, rational, sometimes boring engineering students is what your heart yearns for, I highly recommend enrolling for the July intake—they’re everywhere.

Conversational skills: 13/25 Style: 15/25 Worldliness: 15/25 Rowdiness: 20/25 Total: 63/100

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The Community College Kids Ahhhh, the community college students, bless ‘em. In all seriousness, where would we be without them? I wouldn’t last two hours on a building site, let alone the majority of my adult life. You can always count on these guys to come out with the most whack, yet strangely brilliant ideas. I’ve heard some of the most logical legislative proposals from people attending polytech—after all, they’ve probably been flatting since they were 16 so they know a thing or two about life. These kids will often be seen sporting the likes of coloured uggs, Monster Energy snapbacks, and the greatest garment to ever come out of Supré—jeggings. They aren’t as rowdy as us uni students, primarily because they did most of their partying long before we’d even had our first taste of a raspberry cruiser. But what they lack in style, they make up for by being predominantly good humans… With the exception of when they’re out polluting the ozone layer in their modified Nissan Skylines. Naughty students.

Conversational skills: 18/25 Style: 10/25 Worldliness: 15/25 Rowdiness: 8/25 Total: 51/25

The Lincoln Sheep Shaggers Visiting Lincoln University is a real must-do as far as NZ tertiary institutes are concerned. The way the exceptionally beautiful landscape juxtaposes with the sea of stubbies and wife-beaters is a real treat. Red Band gumboots are a mandatory course requirement, as is a “can-do” Kiwi attitude. In regard to their conversation, you’d probably be pleasantly surprised. Farmers aren’t rich by chance.

The successful ones all have one thing in common—keen business minds. So if you enjoy discussing important businessy things like the economy and whether or not you should get a piece of the sharemilking market, then you’ll love these guys (literally, so many guys, very little oestrogen flying around there). They may not have travelled the world, but they’re probably far more tapped into it than most BCom students. Their free time consists of a lot of rugby and a lot of sitting around drinking godawful Double Browns. If we’re thinking inside the gender norm boxes here, there couldn’t be a manlier campus. Lots of chest hair, lots of sweat, and not nearly enough opening windows.

Conversational skills: 17/25 Style: 5/25 Worldliness: 21/25 Rowdiness: 23/25 Total: 66/100

The Massey Hipsters What the Otago alty kids would look like if they were predominantly female and didn’t spend all of their spare change on piss. They’re almost so cool it’s intimidating, but in an intelligent and almost philosophical way, not in the way that the girls of AUT are (I put this down to the oversized spectacles they picked up from the Sallies for 50c). If you know anything about design, they’re

If we’re thinking inside the gender norm boxes here, there couldn’t be a manlier campus than Lincoln. Lots of chest hair, lots of sweat, and not nearly enough opening windows.

not half bad to converse with. On the contrary, if you struggle to wrap your head around anything even remotely abstract, it will be a sufficiently underwhelming experience and keeping your eyes open will suddenly become 10 times more difficult. They’re rowdy, but in a low-key way that leaves them with their dignity somewhat more intact than the rest of us come Sunday morning—perhaps a positive side-effect of coming down from things other than alcohol. Can be summed up by saying they look a lot cooler than they actually are.

Conversational Skills: 12/25 Style: 20/25 Worldliness: 19/25 Rowdiness: 17/25 Total: 68/100

The Victoria Elitists No need to review us because we’re obviously superior and all others are mere peasants… I also don’t want to be burned at the stake for any trauma I may impart on the sensitive souls among us.

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Auckland Writers Festival Philip McSweeney

IN

terms of a linear narrative I can only offer you this: on Saturday, I had acquired enough of a quiet accord with David Mitchell (either “Not that David Mitchell!” or “Yes, that David Mitchell!” depending on how you prefer to spend your free time) that he offered me a “sup” nod of recognition when we passed each other, post-Murakami. The next day, we had clearly developed enough of an affinity for him to feel comfortable offering me personal advice. He put it delicately and kindly: “You smoke!? You bloody idiot. The tobacco industry are laughing while you pay them money to kill you. Hear that ‘ha ha ha’? That’s the tobacco industry scoffing.

‘This rube is paying us money to kill him,’ they’re saying. Listen!” I can only assume that tomorrow, we will have reached a level of intimacy that will put me on the Christmas card list.

I feel like any attempt to chronologise the events of the Auckland Writers Festival, or to tidily amputate the events into sections to be analysed in atomised parts, would do my whirlwind of an experience a great injustice.

Suffice to say no-one asked any academic or narratological questions. This being a writer’s festival, invoking “The Death of the Author” publically would have been akin to asking an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting for tips on single-malts. Each time the floor was opened to the audience it was relinquished with a tacit understanding: “whatever you do, don’t mention poststructuralism”.

Despite this absence, the festival proved illuminating and invigorating as attendees were offered different—sometimes antithetical—approaches towards writing, and were told of the strenuous negotiations, revisions, experiments and research that were required to complete a novel (this even before finding a willing publisher). Those who attended more than one event could be forgiven for leaving the festival a little confused:

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David Mitchell—“I hate it when people say ‘my character

made me do this’, or ‘I just followed my character’.”

Haruki Murakami—“originally, Colourless Tsuruku was

a short story... and then his girlfriend told him to track down his old friends, and I wanted to know what happened. So I wrote the novel.”

Emily St. John Mendel—“With my second novel,

I started off with just a seed of an idea, really—one day, a husband leaves his wife on their honeymoon... and I thought, ‘why’? And in answering that, fleshing the details out, I wrote a novel.”

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Festival drawcard Murakami appeared on the stage in a “keep calm and read Murakami” t-shirt, embellished with a cat, which tells you all you need to know— it’s impossible to tell exactly how much he’s taking the piss.

At one stage, I queued behind poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy, waiting for coffee. She ordered a piccolo. As someone learning the art of espresso, it marked the first time she made me shed a tear that weekend. The second was during a recitation of her poem “Premonitions”, an elegiac ode-cum-love-letter to the poet’s late mother. She enunciated “there you were / a glass of lemony wine in each hand / walking towards me always... / How you talked! And how / I listened”. I turned to my companion and saw that both of our eyes were wet.

That entire session was brilliant, with John Campbell excelling as an interlocutor. Initial worries about Campbell’s nervous freneticism clashing with Duffy’s calm, stately, vaguely disapproving demeanour were quickly abated. Something that can only be described as a rapport emerged between the two, Campbell’s enthusiasm the perfect foil to Duffy’s deadpan restraint, though Campbell did tone himself down and make some perceptive queries. When Carol Ann Duffy tells you you’ve asked “a very good question”, you’ve asked a very good question. Not even he could outshine the lady of the hour, however, holding her audience in a rapturous spell, eliciting the biggest laugh of the festival in Mrs. Tiresias, about the longsuffering wife of an Oracle new to the ins-and-outs of a vagina.

This quality of moderation did not persist throughout the festival.

Poor David Mitchell drew two short straws, with moderators making the easy but ruinous mistake of talking too much and not allowing the author time to breath or even reflect—forget pauses, the moderators interrupted during sentences. In his second event the poor beleaguered moderator—a stand-in, I believe—even received heckles. Other problems arose when the chairs were too star-struck, too effusive. Metro editor Simon Wilson giddily compared Zia Haider Rahman—author of the astounding In The Light of What We Know—to, amongst others, “Dickens”, “Waugh”, “Fitzgerald”, “Naipaul”, “Kafka”, “Le Carre”, “Ludlum”(???)— invoking everything except for Austerlitz, which the novel most clearly structurally resembles and a quote from which appears in In The Light...’s epigraph. I would have been perfectly happy to have the novel discussed on its own uncompromising terms, of course, but the Austerlitz angle would have been a fruitful line of enquiry, especially because of the core difference between the two novels: while Austerlitz focalises the past through the present, In The Light of What We Know focalises the present through the past.

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Festival drawcard Murakami appeared on the stage in a “keep calm and read Murakami” t-shirt, embellished with a cat, which tells you all you need to know—it’s impossible to tell exactly how much he’s taking the piss. His answers to the questions put to him were delightfully, fittingly cryptic and (if you took the time to parse his metaphors) informative, though he couldn’t resist a couple of Nabokovian jabs (“what do the cats mean? A cat is just a cat”).

However, I especially liked him when he answered his questions earnestly. Why do certain motifs—cats, music—recur in his novels?

“I was an only child, I lived with my parents and my cat only... my parents didn’t understand me at all. My cat was my only friend in the house. I love my my books, I love my music—I love my cat.” His assertion that he writes “to become somebody else, to know somebody else” was poignant and powerful. “I am not a twenty-year old lesbian, I know nothing about being a twenty-year old lesbian, but when I write I see through [their eyes].”

When asked about returning to Tokyo after the twin crises of the Earthquake and Sarin Gas attacks, Murakami elucidated upon a change that occurred in his fiction that I’d detected but couldn’t quite define: “I did not return for my country. I returned for my people.”

While writing Underground, a series of interviews surrounding the Sarin Gas attacks that is amongst his best, most empathetic works and his only non-fiction book available in English (yet he tantalisingly dangled the prospect of a book on jazz being translated), he had an epiphany: “I realised that these people... they were my people.” This contextualises the shift in his work. The novels up to and including The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles broached urban ennui, alienation and atomisation and, well, loneliness and the difficulty of interpersonal connection. His later works are more warm and humanistic. Having this piece of the puzzle slotted into place before my very taringas was special.

If I might pay the favour forward, I have good news for Murakami acolytes with less than $80 worth of library fines. Many believe that Murakami’s first two novels—Hear The Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973—are unavailable in English. For those people, I offer an early Christmas present. They were both published in 1987, albeit in small runs, with Hear The Wing Sing getting a slightly larger re-printing as part of a series of accessible novels encouraging Japanese speakers with upper-intermediate level English to hone their skills. In the Victoria University Library lies the proof for completists such as myself.

One misconception—that Murakami himself corrected during the talk—was that he abandoned Japan after the response to Norwegian Wood. While technically true, this oft-repeated claim disingenuously omits Murakami’s life-long love/hate relationship with his home country and belies the fact that Norwegian Wood was written in the context of a trial separation. That novel, as well as Dance Dance Dance (a sequel of sorts to Hear The Wind Sing, Pinball, 1973 and A Wild Sheep Chase, termed “the Rat trilogy” by devotees), was conceived of and written during a tenure in Italy. It may not, however, be entirely coincidental that those two novels are the ones Murakami “had the most fun writing”.

Finally, the talk made me remember why I fell in love with Murakami’s works in the first place. When discussing romantic relationships, Murakami corrected himself for using heteronormative pronouns after inadvertently alluding to a relationship between a hypothetical she and hypothetical he. “He or she,” he said, almost imperceptibly, and I remembered that Kafka on the Shore was the first novel I read that passed the Russo test, wherein a Queer character—in this case an FTM trans man—is not “solely or editor@salient.org.nz

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Although Orki spoke in quotes I’m certain he’s used before, I was swept up enough in the authority and magic to sigh along with crowd.

“Sometimes,” he said, “we are greater than ourselves when we write.” I believe him.

predominantly defined by their gender identity” and who is significant to the plot. There’s something special about encountering art from someone who is not only a great artist, but whom you suspect is a good person, regardless of the “basements underneath the basements” that they journey to for their art.

The morning after the Murakami Talk, Emily St. John Mendel offered refreshingly practical and clear advice to those wishing to write a novel. “Re-write each chapter out a second time,” she advised, “and you’ll notice the clumsy sentences or bits that don’t work… I usually take about two and a half years to finish a novel, with some decompression time and coming back to it...

Remember that each character is human, has their own motivations that, to them, are self-justified.”

Other events offered something less like literary advice than spiritual guidance. Tim Winton doesn’t look like the shaman that you’d see atop the mount, adorned as he is with long hair and that archetypical rugged Australian visage and body shape, but nevertheless sounded practically holy when he claimed “I think that optimism, hope, hope is something we learn... but it’s also something we need.” Less surprising was Ben Okri’s mysticism: “I truly believe we have more senses than the ones we use.”

The British-Nigerian novelist spoke with gravitas and endless compassion, choosing his words carefully. In terms of comparisons, imagine Mr. Eko on Lost as an author in lieu of a priest. Though all the events I saw

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were pretty accessible, his was the most unpretentious. It was also the only one possibly sponsored by Coca-Cola—a bottle of the stuff was, unfathomably, on the table the entire time, with chair Paula Morris occasionally bringing it into conversation: “I could really use some of that Coke!” she gushed at one stage. The bottle mysteriously made its way, unopened, to Okri’s signing table. Follow the money.

But I digress: Okri’s event was provocative.

He quickly shirked the magical realist label his output is often given, making it clear that, to him, “magic” is woven, compenetrated, into the fabric of the “real”; the real itself being utterly subjective.

“Reality,” he said, “seems to conform to our perception of it.” Whether it be the coincidence of being placed in the same hotel room number throughout a monthlong trip (“one day I said ‘enough of this’ and asked for another room... I saw the number, and guess what the numbers added up to?”) or “bumping into an old friend in a strange city” or seeing a ghost (“have you seen a ghost?” “oh yes. I have”), to Okri these events are not happenstance or even synchronicity: they’re magical. His books, then, are meant to be conducive to “meditation and deep thought” and “read slowly... I want you to read my books slowly.”

Although Orki spoke in quotes I’m certain he’s used before, I was swept up enough in the authority and magic to sigh along with crowd. “Sometimes,” he said, “we are greater than ourselves when we write.” I believe him.

Not all the events were formal. One of my favourites was the event for Tangata Whenua, a book released last year that charts Māori history from its origins to the contemporary day. The event took the tone of a korero, the ambience of the room the event was allocated perfect to an intimate and respectful communion. The sound of skateboards rattling and loud excited shouts from outside seeped into the space. Some of the audience were distracted, but writer and historian Aroha Harris was chuffed—“this is their land too”, after all. It only added to the informality of the event. The book was seven years in the making: how did the writers first meet? “We should’ve met in the pub!” quipped Atholl Anderson.

Convener Ngarimu Blair was pleasantly candid: “you two, and the late Judith Binney, have written a really accessible book eh... just when I feel like I’m about to fall asleep and drop it on my face there’s something there that hooks my interest”, to peals of commiseratory audience laughter. “Even my son, he’ll come up behind me and say ‘what’s that papa? Mea e tupu?’.” We learn that this is why there is a focus on Māori art and photography in the book. “We wanted the book to work on more than one level,” Harris explains. “Science, archaeology, sociology, art... you name it!”

When Harris went on to say that New Zealand history isn’t taught enough in the curriculum—“most of our year 13s know more about the Tudors than the Treaty”— the room—composed, as far as I could tell, mostly of middle-late aged Pakeha— murmured in agreement, with a couple of “hear hear”s. More serious was an anecdote

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Harris told about the problems of focus on profit: “my tuahine, sister, runs our whanau’s farm up north... eeling. And it’s not considered economically productive by the Government. It has nothing to do with that!

She has enough to pay the electricity bill!

She’s happy.” “She has enough to pay the electricity bill?” asked Blair. “Doing better than my whanau then!” Cue sober laughter.

Though the book does not directly address this incompatibility between taonga and capitalist machinations—“we didn’t want it to be that kind of book”—it provides enough of a background for everyone (“especially Pakeha,” noted Blair) to understand the fundamentals of tikanga Māori. “This is a book every New Zealander should own,” Blair claimed, to murmurs of assent.

This raises a difficult question: with so many stories and novels and essays out there, how do you create a hierarchy of importance?

On what criterion do we judge importance, unique to our individual experience and context? As New Zealanders, are we obliged—should we feel obliged—to read Frame before Woolf, Tuwhare before Tennyson? Indeed, if the Writers Festival did anything it suggested the wealth of narratives out there, waiting to be encountered, mined, digested. One of the motifs of the festival, too, was the claim that important stories exist outside the context of the novel or the book or the treatise. “I think stories are all around us,” said Rahman at one point. “We need journalists because there are so many fucking great stories out there that need to be told or can be told... if you know where to look,” claimed John Freeman. David Mitchell imparted this advice to me, privately, when I complained about feeling derivative (hope I’m not betraying ur trust Dave xoxo): “At your age you should be emulating writers you like.

Keep doing it. Be a flapper of literature; have torrid affairs with all sorts of different novels. Read voraciously. Finding your own style will come later.”

I think Okri put it best, and most formidably. “I came to New Zealand wanting to hear the ‘myths’ (air quote supplied by the reverent tone in which he uses the word). I wanted to hear your myths, the stories of your land, and so I asked. They responded: ‘how much time do you have?’.”

editor@salient.org.nz

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Why is everything due on the same day?!

University seems to have a habit of giving students long periods of time where they just twiddle their thumbs and wank (Luke), but then on the other hand you’ll have five assignments and two tests due within two days.

Going from one extreme to another makes us feel as emotionally unstable as an adolescent girl. While the girls are able to get through this, we are unsure if this is a good way for students to learn, but then again we don’t really have a say even though we are paying the Uni an arm and your left bollock for a bit of fancy paper.

We are pretty sure that at the start of the academic year all the lectures and course coordinators meet up and plan what days their assignments are going to be due. And every year they seem to put them within a week of

everyone else. It’s hard enough writing 5000 words of nonsense about a topic you couldn’t give a shit about. But when you realise you have a 5000, 3000 then 2000 word assignment due on the same day, you start to question if university is really for you.

We know at this point some of the readers (if we have any) will probably be thinking “why didn’t you just plan your time better?” And yes, we both admit time management is not our forte (for people in Vic House, that means “something we excel at”). We apologise if that come off as condescending, Vic House—oh and by the way, “condescending” means “talking down to someone” if you didn’t know that.

heaps of things due is normally a sign that the trimester is finishing. Which is good for us, because university has literally sucked us dry of topics to bullshit about.

Study tip of the week: we read somewhere this week an excellent study tip—“Stand up.

Stretch. Take a walk. Get on a plane. Never Return.” Basically sums up our thinking up at the moment.

Stick with it, only a couple more weeks to go.

Tom and Luke

But on the bright side, the fact that you have

We Drank This So You Didn’t Have To Lydia and Mitch

Smirnoff Double Black + Guarana Cost: $8 Alcohol volume: 7% Pairing: Shame pizza ($2.99 a slice from New World fyi) Verdict: “God, why do I even drink wine?” www.salient.org.nz

Hello dear readers. Before we start, we’d like everyone to turn on “Graduation (Friends Forever)” by Vitamin C as an accompaniment to the review. We’ll wait here.

For this week, we decided to do the ultimate throwback and start with the drink of choice for every 17-year-old (15-year-old if you’re from Hamilton). Smirnoff Double Black was the real MVP of every puke-stained house party you ever lied to your parents about in high school. With its high alcohol content and lolly water flavour, this teenage dream was proudly brandished in every above-the-head selfie taken on a digital camera and uploaded to Bebo.

Prefaced by a $9 bottle of cat piss wine with a lot of bullshit New World gold medals (notwithstanding our hatred of New World), we decided to record our Double Black review after attending a comedy show. This was necessary to avoid either of us heckling the performers or being forcibly removed from a venue. Just to be clear, we have not historically

been this considerate but we learn from (most of ) our mistakes. On an unrelated note, neither of us should be allowed to access Twitter after two standards drinks. But that’s a matter for another day.

“Double black” is not a flavour. This drink tastes like lemonade. There is nothing wrong with that. It tastes sweet, it tastes good, and it leaves a disgusting (but satisfying) film in your mouth after the third can. We got Guarana because we like to be ~totally pumped~ when we listen to Christian rock in the lounge. Lydia had drunk too much coffee that day and was up until 4am sending regrettable Facebook messages, but we all make our choices. A little bit of regression is good for everyone. Next time you find yourself in the liquor shop and can’t decide between Five Flax or Banrock Station, we highly recommend that you reach for an RTD, go home, listen to Dei Hamo and enjoy yourself.

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This week we look at friendly new technology that might just make the world a better place. (We’re saving the sinister blood-curdling apocalypse machines for another issue.)

Videogames to Rehabilitate Athletes Benjamin Dunn If you’ve ever been unfortunate enough to get injured and need rehab, you’ll know that the rehab is almost as annoying and painful as the injury itself. You probably went to the physio, and on your way home had every intention of doing your prescribed exercises.

Let’s be honest here, we both know you didn’t do those exercises. Maybe you were too busy, or didn’t know how to do them, or forgot what you needed to do. For one reason or another, you didn’t have the motivation you needed to do the exercises.

Swibo is a team of Vic graduates who are seeking to solve this problem by teaming up physio exercises with video games, creating an entertaining and engaging way to do your exercises, track your progress, and actually get better. Our product “Tilt” uses a balance board, which is an already proven tool for treating and preventing lower-limb injuries

Better Watch Your Health Kelly Moen

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such as ankle and knee sprains. The balance board is converted to a game controller by placing your smartphone in the board’s dock, which uses the in-built gyroscope and accelerometer to measure your movement on the board. The phone then sends the data to the computer for gaming and analysis, displayed on a computer, TV, or projector.

Tilt is designed for athletes and physiotherapists to provide more compelling motivation to do exercises and work to improve balance. The games are built to directly reflect physio exercises already proven to reduce injury rates by up to 80 per cent, keeping players on the field and patients healthy. Future versions of the product are planned for gyms and as a universal game controller. Swibo will be launching a Kickstarter campaign later this year to make it available for everyone.

Wristwatches seem to be getting smarter, if we’re basing this judgement of intelligence on their ability to do more than tell the time.

As Apple and Google battle it out for wrist dominance, smartwatches are beginning to drive fitness trackers such as the FitBit into obsolescence with apps that measure more than just exercise.

Github user StephenBlackWasAlreadyTaken (I’m going to assume his name is Stephen Black) has just released an app called NightWatch which helps people with diabetes monitor their blood glucose levels.

NightWatch uses Bluetooth to wirelessly communicate with a continuous blood glucose monitor—a sensor that sits just under the skin and takes blood glucose readings every five minutes. NightWatch receives this data from a wireless transmitter and displays it as a 24-hour graph on the face

of an Android Wear smartwatch. It also gives alerts whenever the blood glucose readings rise or fall too far.

Continuous blood glucose monitors are currently expensive and the sensors need to be replaced every seven days. However, non-invasive technologies for blood glucose are being developed and the app shows the ways in which wearable technology can aid those living with chronic illness to manage their condition. Says one Reddit user, “No more digging around for the stupid receiver in my pocket—just a flick of the wrist, and I know what my body is doing. I’ve been a type 1 diabetic since age 12, and am now 27. This is such an amazing thing for me.

While it may seem like a small thing, I love it, and the development team deserves some recognition!”

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Science

NASA Saves Lives in Nepal Ruth Corkill

Four men have been rescued from collapsed buildings in Chautara following Nepal’s 7.8-magnitude earthquake thanks to NASA technology that detected their heartbeats through 10 feet of debris. FINDER, which stands for Finding Individuals for Disaster and Emergency Response, is a suitcasesized device that sends out a low-powered microwave signal. Tiny motions caused by the victim’s breathing and heartbeats change the reflected signal, and these changes can be picked up by FINDER and used to hone in on their location. Unlike many traditional rescue tools, FINDER does not require the victim to be conscious, only that they still have a heartbeat. Two FINDER prototypes were sent to Nepal with an international search and rescue team. In tests, FINDER had detected heartbeats through 30 feet of rubble or 20 feet of solid concrete, but this was the first time the technology was used in a real life disaster.

The technology behind FINDER was

Forests Enlist a Drone Army Patrick Savill Each year our species cuts down 26 billion trees and only re-plants half of that. At this rate the Earth will run out of trees.

At the moment, reforestation is done by hand planting, which is limiting the speed at which replanting can occur. Enter ex-

originally developed to locate planets outside of our solar system by NASA’s jet propulsion laboratory, and the accompanying software detects small motions using algorithms similar to those used to measure the orbits of the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. Some think that such “advanced sensing technology” may one day be used to detect life on other planets. In the meantime, there are plenty of organisations keen to develop FINDER for terrestrial applications.

FINDER displays heart and respiration rates, and can distinguish between the heartbeats of a human and those of animals or mechanical devices. This means there are a large range of possible applications for the technology.

The team hopes to combine FINDER with robotics and even small autonomous flying vehicles. Such vehicles could be used to get closer to victims in unstable structures or to monitor someone with a highly contagious disease, such as Ebola, without requiring first responders to physically touch the patient.

NASA engineer Lauren Fletcher. Her team at BioCarbon Engineering plans to save the planet by mechanising the replanting process. A section of land will be mapped using automated drones to build an accurate 3D model of the terrain. Individual routes will then be planned and programmed into a small army of planting drones. Each planting drone carries a small bottle of pressurised air and a multitude of pre-germinated seeds. As the drone flies along its route it fires these seeds into the ground from a height of one to two metres. Each seed is covered with nutrient-filled hydrogel to provide a stable environment for the plant to grow in initially.

Fletcher doesn’t pretend that this system is as good as hand-sowing—a human can plant a seed far more precisely with a higher success rate—but a drone can plant them faster and currently, time is of the essence.

“We’ve had countless people ask us for different applications,” said James Lux, task manager for the FINDER project. “One of the more unusual was whether FINDER could detect rhinoceroses hidden in bushes for the purpose of protecting them. We haven’t tried it for that, but in principle, it should work.”

NASA regularly comes under fire for being a ridiculously expensive way to find out mildly interesting things. It’s worth remembering that NASA technologies such as firefighting gear, water purification devices, and scratch resistant lenses make our lives easier every day.

As David Miller, NASA’s chief technologist at NASA Headquarters in Washington D.C., says “FINDER exemplifies how technology designed for space exploration has profound impacts to life on Earth.”

Grand as all this is, I can’t help but think drones with pulse detectors could be dangerous in the wrong hands.

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Me kaupapa here te reo Māori mō ngā ākonga katoa i te kura tuarua?

Te Owaimutu Crawford

E toru ngā reo matua o te whenua nei, arā, ko te reo Ingarihi, te reo Rotarota o Aotearoa me te reo Māori.

Ahakoa tana tū hei reo matua o Aotearoa nei, kāore a te reo Māori e noho ana hei kaupapa here mō ngā ākonga katoa o ngā kura tuarua, pēnei i te reo Ingarihi. Hei tā ētahi me ōrite te taumata mō ēnei reo e rua ki te kura tuarua, eaoia hei tā ētahi atu kāore he take o te ako reo Māori. I tēnei wā tonu nei ko tēnei kaupapa he kaupapa whakawehewehe ka tautohetia e te tokomaha, ā, ko tēnei kaupapa te tāhūhū o te tuhinga nei.

Ki te tū te reo Māori hei kaupapa here mō ngā ākonga katoa i te kura tuarua ka puta he reanga reorua. Koinei tētahi take matua mō rātou e whakaae ana ki te kaupapa nei nō te mea he maha ngā painga ka pā atu ki te tangata reorua. Kāore ēnei hua e pā ana ki te āhua o te ako anake, engari e hāngai ana hoki ki te rapu mahi me te kōrero a te tangata ki tangata kē atu .Anei ētahi painga ka riro i a rātou: • • •

•

He māmā ake te ako anō i tētahi atu reo. He mea tino pai rawa atu tēnei, i ēnei rā, nō te mea ko tēnei ao he ao reomaha.

He maha ake ngā āheinga ki te rapu mahi mō rātou nā te mea he pūkenga anō tā rātou, arā, ko ngā “Pūkenga Ako Reo”.

Ka āhei rātou ki te kōrero ki te tini o ngā tāngata nā te mea e rua ngā reo ki ā rātou kete. Nā reira, ki te kore tētahi tauhou e mōhio ana ki te reo a te marea, tērā pea ka mōhio ia ki te reo tuarua a te tangata reorua.

I a rātou e ako ana i te reo o tētahi atu ka ako hoki rātou i te ahurea o taua reo, ā, nā taua āhuatanga, i te nuinga o te wā he hūmārika tō te tangata reorua ki ngā ahurea kē atu.

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He patanga anō tā te tū a te reo Māori hei kaupapa here i tua atu i aua e hāngai ana ki te tikanga reorua.

“He reo e kōrerotia ana, he reo ka ora” Koinei whakataukī he whakataukī kua puta i te rīpoata: “Te Rautaki Reo Māori”. Ka kōrero tēnei whakataukī mō te oranga o tō tātou reo rangatira, arā, kia ora ai te reo, me kōrero te reo. I ngā tau kua pahure ake nei e hia kē nei ngā parekura e tū ki te pēhipēhi, ki te whakangaro atu i tō tātou nei reo rangatira. Engari, kāore a te reo Māori mō te tuohu mō te mate rānei. Hei taupaepae i aua mea e ngana ana ki te whakamate i tō tātou reo, i whakaritea ētahi rautaki ki te whakaora i te reo Māori. Ko tētahi atu rautaki e hāngai ana ki te whakaora i te reo Māori ko tēnei kaupapa. Mēnā ka tū te reo Māori hei kaupapa here kāore e kore ka whānui ake te rahi o te hunga e āhei ana ki te kōrero Māori. Hei tāpirihanga ki taua kōrero, ko te reo Māori me ōna tikanga ētahi āhuatanga o te tuakiri me te hītori o Aotearoa.

Mēnā ka tū te reo Māori hei kaupapa here, ka ako hoki ngā tauira i ngā tikanga Māori. He aha ngā painga o tērā?

Hei tauira; whakaarohia tēnei mea o tātou te pōhiri. Ka haere mai tētahi manuhiri motuhake, ia wā, tū ai te pōhiri.

Ki te kore he tangata e ahei ana ki te kōrero Māori, ka raru ngā tāngata katoa ki te mōhio he aha ngā whakaritenga mō te pōhiri, he aha ngā kōrero ka kōrerohia, ā, ko tēhea te waiata pai e hāngai ana ki te whaikōrero me te kaupapa anō hoki. Nā te ako o Ngāi Pākehā i ā tātou tikanga, tō tātou ahurea, ka whakaiti te hemanga i waenganui i a tātou anō, ā, koia tētahi āhuatanga o te whakakaha whanaunga ā-iwi.

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issue 12

VUWSA

37

Yarn With Zwaan Rick Zwaan Budget un-Joy(ce)ful

Last week’s budget was a bit of a bleak one for us students.

The Government again didn’t increase core university funding— just as it hasn’t since 2009. This means that funding for the tertiary sector has effectively decreased by $1 billion relative to 2009 levels.

As students, this means that our fees get higher each year as universities are forced to rely more on raising them just to keep up with the costs of the status quo. Alongside an announcement of no new core uni funding, Minister Joyce also indicated that he is planning on reducing the maximum cap of 4% fee rises to 3% from next year.

It’s unclear how he thinks universities will be able to maintain their budgets with no new government funding, given that the costs of running institutions rises faster than annual inflation.

Joyce trumpeted an extra $113 million for a few of his pet projects like increasing the numbers of engineering and science students.

While this could be seen as a win for BSc students like me, this type of government intervention into the tertiary sector will mean that the freedom of academics to design and teach courses of wider societal value will be impeded by a further drive to grab the pitiful crumbs of government funding.

Tertiary education in New Zealand needs serious funding not pet projects.

The budget also made no changes to student support measures.

Costs of living are continuing to rise while the government reduces the availability of student allowances.

While our course related costs increase each year, the amount we’re able to loan to cover them haven’t changed since I was born in 1993.

The payback rate on our loans means graduates pay the highest effective tax rate while our friends over the ditch have a wonderfully progressive repayment rate that doesn’t kick in until you earn more than $53k.

Other leading Western economies have shown that it is possible to extend the human right to free education to the tertiary level.

Germany has recently done just that. Holland, where my family comes from, also offers virtually free education. As I have a Dutch passport, I could go and complete a postgrad degree there and not pay a cent.

We need to seriously rethink how we fund universities and student support. Access to tertiary education is crucial and the Government needs to adequately provide for it in their balance sheets.

Academic Vice-President Jonathan Gee Let’s get our money’s worth

Throughout our time studying, we pay a lot to the University.

With course fees, the Student Services Levy, hall of residence accommodation, and all that printing from the University library (wifi printing where you at), costs pile up pretty fast. I did some costings of my own time at university and by the time I graduate, I will have paid approximately $40,000 after five years. How cray is that?!

Despite paying all this money, are we really getting our money’s worth in quality teaching from our lecturers?

Over the last few weeks, I’ve heard a range of stories from students and student tutors expressing dissatisfaction with the quality of learning and teaching in some of their courses. Stories I’ve heard include limited learning support for first year students, limited or late feedback from assignments, and the perception that some lecturers would rather be doing research than teaching their class.

Vic’s focus on research is not necessarily a bad thing—we’ve been ranked the country’s most research-intensive university, which is super cool for our reputation. However, this focus shouldn’t mean that good quality teaching should suffer. Vic’s current tagline is “Know Your Mind”, yet sometimes the quality of our teaching imparts confusion rather than knowledge. Isn’t it funny that our early childhood, primary and secondary educators require teaching qualifications in order to teach us, yet our lecturers don’t require that same level of training?

Vic’s move toward greater undergrad pathways into postgrad degrees through one-year teaching-based Masters’ programmes brings in new opportunities to grow. However, this move also means that there should be greater consideration for a quality teaching standard. Vic needs to listen to our concerns and it needs to act now.

This lopsided focus on research means that it is more important than ever to stand up for your education. Get more feedback from your lecturers and tutors. Ask questions about what you’ve learnt in class. Be the critic and conscience of society for which universities have historically been known.

Let’s make sure we get our money’s worth. Let’s stand up for our education.

editor@salient.org.nz

38

Music

The Story So Far The Story So Far

Alice Reid California-based pop punk legends The Story So Far have just released their third studio album. The band dropped their self-titled LP via Pure Noise Records on May 19, but uploaded it for streaming a full week beforehand, after leaking singles and other teasers for the last few months (and after the whole album was leaked online).

Most notably, the band leaked their single “Nerve” by handing out 50 demo copies at a Title Fight show in San Francisco, claiming it was from a fictional band called “The Skateboarders”. Is there a more punk way to release a single? I think not.

“Nerve” is great, like most of the album, and it’s exactly what you would expect from The Story So Far. They’ve got pop punk down to a fine art, and they do it well, but fans looking to see musical progression after Under Soil and Dirt and What You Don’t See might be a little bit disappointed.

The Story So Far opens with “Smile”, a song clearly dedicated to a lost love. It’s a familiar sound, and shows the band still very much wearing their hearts on their sleeves, especially in the chorus: “Are you blocking all the things / That have to do with me? / Is it easier now? / Do you feel any release? / Tell me how you fit in / And where do you begin? / Do you toast when they toast? / Do you sin when they sin?”.

The next track, “Heavy Gloom”, is one of my favourites from the album. This one leans heavily on bassist Kelen Capener and is one of the grittier tracks on the LP. It’s lyrically great too and though vocalist Parker Cannon makes heavy use of rhyme, he kills the chorus: “It cuts so much deeper / Why would I wanna see her? / Only had one beer / And I don’t wanna sleep here / And I know you don’t care / You’ve made it so clear / Swore I had no fear / Not until you came near”.

“Solo” changes the tone a little bit, it’s a little more low-key but still suitably pop punk. This track introduces the lyrical www.salient.org.nz

theme of “feeling indigo”, which is repeated throughout the album in various places, an almost-subtle undercurrent that draws it all together pretty nicely. It’s definitely not one of my favourite tracks, but I hear that it grows on you, so I’m still waiting to be sold on this one.

“Mock” is another great track, the best part being Cannon’s vocals in “Make things worse / I always seem to make things worse / ‘cos I can’t seem to shake this curse / I can’t seem to put you first”. “Phantom” starts out with guitar feedback like “Smile”, and is the most somber track on the record. The lyrics aren’t too varied and at only two and a half minutes long, it definitely could have done more.

I respect the attempt to change up the sound a little bit, but for me it didn’t work. This one is easily the most disappointing track on the record, but you might enjoy it if you liked their acoustic EP Songs Of. Cannon is good at what he does, but he knows it and doesn’t stray too far from what he does best. His vocals are as crisp and clean as ever, but it would be cool to see him mix these up a bit, as it definitely brings a sense of sameness to the album—like you’ve heard all these tracks before.

Ultimately, The Story So Far is a great album, albeit a little bit disappointing. It definitely feels like it could have benefited from a little more risk, but as “Phantom” makes clear, risks don’t always pay off. If your favourite songs from Under Soil and Dirt are tracks like “Mt. Diablo” and “Daughters”, or “Right Here” and “All Wrong” from What You Don’t See, then you’ll probably dig the new album.

If you’re a fan of their faster, more hardcore sound, then you’ll probably be disappointed by this latest release.

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40

salient

Chocolate Milk.

Cavaan Wild I couldn’t pay my grocery bill yesterday but you bought $7 chocolate milk.

I put back the bulk tub of margarine but you bought $7 chocolate milk.

I even had to return the cereal, on special for $2.99, but you bought $7 chocolate milk.

I had only enough to pay for white bread and precooked sausages, but you bought $7 chocolate milk.

By the time I’d finished, the checkout chick was examining the intricacies of her cuticles while the people in line behind me huffed and sighed, itching to beep through their organic dairy products and whole grain loaves.

Cast disapproving looks at my kid’s bare feet, and buy $7 chocolate milk.

Do you know how much bread I can get for $7?

I can get 7 loaves for that.

And Lord knows I’m not Jesus, maybe I need more than 5 loaves to perform minor domestic miracles, and the only fish my kids have ever eaten has been battered or out of a can, so don’t tell me shit about essential fish oils when all I have is the bare essentials.

I struggle to feed two, fuck 5000.

Do you know how much margarine I can get for $7?

Two 1kg tubs.

Do you know how much milk I can buy for $7?

Two 2 litre bottles, if I shop around.

And for $7, you bought 750mls of chocolate milk.

And for $7, anything I can afford will never fully satisfy two hungry stomachs, or fill the foreseen holes in their future caused by what they didn’t have.

What I couldn’t give them when they were young, what I had to turn a blind eye to; stolen lunches, shoes, sweatshirts and toys, because each minor offence was a reminder of what I could not give them.

Fill up on cornflakes. I don’t have $7 so for another week we’ll have to struggle to make do with what we don’t have.

Once again, all I have is too little for two little ones. www.salient.org.nz

issue 12

41

Food

Beef Wellington

Hannah Douglass

Okay, getting a little fancy this week. It’s an intimidating dish, especially if you’ve ever watched Hell’s Kitchen, but don’t panic. Find someone you want to impress (or a few of them, this recipe is enough to serve four rather hungry people at least), and make this for them. You’re going to look awesome when you pull this off.

You got this!

You’ll need: For mushroom duxelles: 300g mushrooms, coarsely chopped 1 tbl extra-virgin olive oil Salt and pepper to season For herb crepe: 1/2 cup plain flour 2 eggs 1 tsp sugar 1/2 tsp salt 2 tbsp chives, minced 1/2 cup milk 1/4 cup water 4 tbsp butter, melted For Beef Wellington: 500g beef fillet Salt and pepper to season 2 tbsp olive oil 1/4 cup whole-grain dijon mustard 1 packet prosciutto 1 large sheet puff pastry, thawed 1 egg yolk 1 tbsp milk To serve with: Roasted veggies of choice

How to: 1. Put your oven on 200 degrees.

2. Make the mushroom duxelles by blitzing everything together in a food processor.

Fry on a medium heat until all the water has evaporated and set aside to cool.

3. Make the herb crepe by whisking together the flour, eggs, sugar, salt and chives. Whisk in the butter, water and milk. Put your most non-stick pan onto a medium heat. Use about ¼ cup of batter at a time, pour it into the centre of the pan. Roll the batter around the pan until it’s set. Flip the crepe when the edges start to curl in and look a little crispy.

Use a spatula and your hands and be gentle with it—it’s thin! Fry for about 30 seconds on the other side and flip it onto a plate to cool.

Repeat.

4. Season the beef. Sear it in a hot pan on all sides, then rub the mustard all over it. Set aside.

5. Lay out the crepes so they’ll wrap around the entire beef fillet. Spread the duxelles evenly over the crepes, then layer the prosciutto on top. Lay the beef on top, and wrap it up tightly to form a little parcel.

6. Lay out the puff pastry on some baking paper.

Put your parcel in the middle, folded ends down, and wrap as tightly as you can.

7. Seal the edges solidly so it doesn’t open in the oven and get all ugly.

8. Whisk together the egg yolk and milk to make a glaze. Use a pastry brush if you have one, or just whatever. Refrigerate for 5 minutes.

9. Bake for 25–35 mins. The pastry will be really golden brown by the time the beef inside is about medium-rare.

editor@salient.org.nz

42

Film

salient

Pitch Perfect 2 Directed by Elizabeth Banks

Cassie Ransom If you have a thick skin and a taste for the crass and politically incorrect, this film will be your baby.

As is the age old trend with unplanned blockbuster sequels, the film takes the same characters and plotline and creates a slight remix that never quite lives up to the beat of the original. Our attention is split between the painfully embarrassing (you can’t watch but you can’t not watch) romance between Fat Amy and Bumper (who seems to cling tenuously to the edge of this film for the purposes of providing a pathetic stab at a love interest to rake in the viewers) and the journey of over-excited starlet Emily, the Bellas’ new legacy. The Bellas compete with a German a capella group to win worlds after an unfortunate mishap that causes their national tour to be cancelled.

Perhaps I’m simply a relentless cynic, sitting behind my desk clutching a cup of tea and appraising the performance of the clearly talented, gazelle-like Hailee Steinford, but I can’t help but feel that she has been injected into the film the same way that adrenaline is jabbed into the heart—as a last ditch attempt to resuscitate a lifeless and lost plot. She is the spice in the pie, the fresh-faced, quirky, offbeat lovable character whom we fail to love simply because she is not one of the original Bellas from the film which (only) some of us have grown so emotionally attached to. We can also sense a shift in focus from the preppy freshmen motif of the first movie to the postadolescent, entering-the-real-world anxiety of the senior Bellas. This in itself feels like a resignation, like a sign from the producers that they have squeezed as much juice as they can from this particular lemon, and it’s time to graduate the Bellas and shut up shop.

Easily the most excruciating, screwing-up-facial-features, clutchinghead-in-hands, hysterically unfunny aspect of the movie is the banter between commentators John and Gail. Perhaps there are viewers out there—and I apologise profusely if there are—who have a Swiftian nose for satire and can sweep aside any reservations they may have www.salient.org.nz

about mocking the treatment of almost every social minority group in the Western world, but I’m not one of them. Watching these two characters is how I imagine a cat feels when you slyly change the direction of your hand as you’re rubbing it along its back, so that its fur sticks up in grumpy disarray. The one meagre crumb of positivity to be mustered from this is continuity between the two films— granted, they were infinitesimally funnier in the first film, but my guess is that if you loved the first film, you will love the second too.

The film’s redeeming humour lies in the hands of Fat Amy (why does it still feel so politically incorrect every time I type that name? For those who haven’t seen the film, this is a self-proclaimed title). Her awkward relatable humour and brazenness characterises the film and brings out the sweetly nostalgic tenor of togetherness that saves the it from its atrocious plotline. This, coupled with the sensational choreography and soundtrack, gives the film a kind of aesthetic and audio quality which has an entertainment value unto itself. The movie retains the essence of the original just enough to justify watching it in order to enter this musical paradise one last time and suck on the bones to get a little taste of the original, but it is by no means an original or amusing sequel.

issue 12

Film

43

It Follows Directed by David Robert Mitchell

Stephen Hay With its masterful combination of genres—teen coming of age, Romero zombie, 80s slasher and Japanese horror—all mashed into a simple concept, It Follows is an impressive new entry into the canon of scary stories. The story follows nineteen-year-old Jay, played by brilliant Maika Monroe, who sleeps with a guy she is dating and is given a sexually transmitted ghost/zombie/monster. The rules of this mystical entity are that only people who have been infected can see it. It is always changing appearance—sometimes it might look like a friend, and other times barely human. It moves by walking slowly, but always toward whoever is currently infected. You can pass it on by sleeping with someone else, but if it catches up to him or her, it will kill them, then start walking to toward you again. Once Jay figures all this out, she and her group of friends try to work out what to do next.

Director David Robert Mitchell uses this premise to full effect. Every extra in the background becomes a potential monster, while at any moment that Jay takes to relax she becomes intensely vulnerable. One of the film’s many strengths is its setting in Detroit. Large parts of the city have become run down ghost towns, perfect for a modern urban horror story. Also, the fact that the main characters are poor teenagers with family responsibilities in an economically depressed city limits their options. A wealthy person could avoid this slow-moving ghost with very little effort, whereas these poor kids can’t just jump on an airplane to the other side of the world. This is a horror about poverty and being trapped in a declining city as much as it is about being chased by a ghost.

Stylistically, this film is a wonder to behold. The soundtrack, a 80s style booming, creepy electronic masterpiece, is very much a lynchpin of what makes this film work. It does much of the heavy lifting of setting the tone. The music gives even the most benign shots a sense of unease. Then, when the film is at its most terrifying, the score becomes a sonic wave of tension. Relying so heavily on music cues is usually a sign of laziness or a filmmaker’s lack of confidence in their ability to convey emotion. However, in It Follows, the score is

so perfectly in sync with the visuals it comes across as nothing but well-crafted. The visuals themselves are all very impressive. Slow pans and deeply out of focus backgrounds make it feel like the ghost could appear at any moment. When it actually does, it is usually framed in the centre of the shot, looking right at the camera. As anyone who is familiar with films like Ringu and Ju-on knows, if you have the creepy slow moving monster, this filming technique will massively increase the impending horror vibe. However, the film’s biggest weakness is that despite the ghost looking pretty disturbing when it is slowly walking, it loses that sense whenever it does anything more.

It is only natural to wonder what this film is trying to say with its sexually-transmitted ghost. Horror stories have often been thinly veiled metaphors for actual social anxieties. At various points in history, vampires have represented disease or fears of sexual desire, while zombies have become an articulation of the worries of the mind-numbing effect of consumer society on the population. Scary stories let us engage with our very real fears in a safe and controlled situation. The premise of It Follows could easily be used to tell a very moralistic anti-sex story. However, there is no trace of that type of conservatism at all. The sex is portrayed as simply a normal thing that people engage in. The moral of this story is that sex is, in one way or another, something we all have to navigate and there can be all sorts of consequences from it. Some of those consequences can be pretty scary for many different reasons and they can feel like there will follow you around for the rest of your life. It Follows is a powerful analogy that will keep you thinking long after it has finished. More importantly, the film doesn’t lose any of its fear-inducing creepiness for being an analogy. It is often said the best way to destroy our monsters is to deconstruct them. However, the complex themes around teenage sexual awakening combined with terrifying imagery make It Follows an instant classic.

editor@salient.org.nz

44

Visual Arts

Taking My Mother Along To See Pinky Fang

Sharon Lam

The past week I had the strained pleasure of having my mother in Wellington. Part of the week included exploring the arty side of the city, including an exhibit at Thistle Hall Community Gallery, which she has kindly helped to review.

Thistle Hall recently played host to Pinky Fang’s first solo show, entitled FANG SOLO, which was in equal parts colourful and humorous. To those new to Pinky Fang, her work stretches across many mediums, (textile, installation, ceramics, accessories, drawings, to name a few) and has garnered a significant audience through both previous group exhibits in Wellington and online. Her work references pop culture, kitsch and cats in a way that is unpretentious and idiosyncratic.

For me, seeing her solo exhibit was nice as I recognised the style and various pieces from around town at some point, so it was great to finally put a face and name to the collection. While I recognised the style, the majority of the work was still new to me and notable pieces included a ceramic sculpture fittingly titled “Trout Tits”, a doge plate, cementing everyone’s favourite meme into dinnerware (and what’s a meal with a meme?), another plate that saw a dairy pun on Wu-Tan—“cheese rules everything around me”—and a series of singing bill bass fish impressively belting Notorious B.I.G. While these playful takes on pop culture are a strength of Pinky Fang’s work, I wondered how someone who was completely removed from such references would find the exhibit. After we left the gallery, I debriefed with my mother, and translated her response:

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“I was surprised when we got to the ‘gallery’, it looked very small and more like an empty shop to me. I guess it was, since the art was for sale, but so expensive! Triple digits for a plate, and it wasn’t even Wedgwood. I liked the plate with the cheese though, it would make a nice cheese plate for us. The art was really quite silly, I didn’t know you could have a show like that, Sharon even you could do an art show since everything you do is silly. But even though it was silly and expensive, I think I liked it. My favourite pieces were the cloth pieces, cloth is a nice material for art I think, and I haven’t seen much of that before. The singing fish were quite scary, I’m not sure I’d like that in my house, but I guess some people would. The ceramics were very different, I was interested in how they were made but not really what they looked like.

They were all quite ugly but I think that all modern art is meant to be ugly, isn’t that right? I think actually that’s how I felt about most of the work—how she got her art printed on the cloth, for example, I want to do that too. That was the good maybe other people will part of everything—she seemed like a nice lady who does what she wants and what she likes, and by sharing that want to do the same.”

Thistle Hall used to be part of my daily commute, and I will admit that if not on yours, its exhibits are not always worth making it a destination in itself.

This week, however, it was, and I encourage you all to take your mother along to art galleries for a different viewpoint and also for her to shout coffee and cake afterwards.

For more of Pinky Fang’s work, visit http://pinkyfang. co.nz/

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issue 12

45

Games

Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen: A Konami Retrospective

Cameron Gray Well, Konami has certainly put on a clinic in how not to run a video game company. They have pretty much alienated their consumer base by making one big blunder after another—blacklisting and censoring critics, cancelling their biggest and most expensive projects, holding insane and nonsensical press conferences. I’m willing to bet no sane developer will even consider working for them now; the new Metal Gear Solid game is just a few months away from release, and it’s almost guaranteed to be the last one, at least with Hideo Kojima at the helm. Don’t worry, he’ll be free from their corporate clutches by Christmas.

All of this is a shame, Konami was once synonymous with challenge, high quality and innovation going all the way back to the 8-bit era.

I’m not really one to dwell too much on what went wrong; I like to remember the high points, the moments we were on top of the world.

That’s exactly what I’m doing with Konami—without further ado, let’s look at some of their greatest successes.

CONTRA The run-and gun platformer—nothing else even comes close.

Released in the arcades in 1987 and on the NES a year later, Contra is probably the original friendship destroyer, being one of the first titles to use simultaneous two-player co-op. You’ll need someone to help you along no matter what—a combination of one-hit kills and high enemy numbers make this one of the most unforgiving games ever made. Also introduced that bloody up up down down left right left right B A START cheat code that people reference to sound nerdy, when in reality they wouldn’t know a graphics card from a Yu-Gi-Oh card.

CASTLEVANIA Ever wanted to kill Dracula? Well, you can do that in Castlevania— just grab your whip and take care of the many zombies, floating Medusa heads and dodgy jumping mechanics that will get in your way first. (Especially the Medusa heads. Those things will fuck up your day). Another challenging platformer from the NES era, but it’s had instalments on most major consoles over the years. My personal recommendation is Super Castlevania 4 for the Super Nintendo—the controls in that game are much better than the others, making for a more enjoyable game and fewer broken controllers.

METAL GEAR Hideo Kojima, to the gaming masses, is practically a god amongst men. He has done things to piss people off (mostly harmless trolling), but he has always made great games, and the entire Metal Gear series is his masterpiece. I’m still amazed every time I sneak my way through Metal Gear Solid and, with the benefit of hindsight, can recognise how influential it has been, especially in terms of narrative.

Pretty much every AAA blockbuster these days owes a great debt to Kojima and his willingness to blend cinematic storytelling with unique stealth mechanics—don’t tell me you didn’t piss yourself the first time you heard that alert, or complain during a really long cutscene. Also indirectly gave us Metal Gear Awesome, which put a certain young animator named Egoraptor on the map.

SILENT HILL I refuse to play any and all horror games, Silent Hill included. Horror and mental illness are a dangerous mix. Sorry. Also, now that Silent Hills has been canned, there’s probably no way another one will be made anyway.

DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION I can’t dance. I have no rhythm. I’m not a fan of upbeat pop music.

Most of these are probably true for a lot of people. Yet, DDR is still shit-tons of fun, especially when inhibitions have been lowered in one way or another. Blame this for why rhythm games are/were so popular.

So there you go: Konami’s greatest hits. Not a bad line-up in the end. And yet, the company now wants to piss it all away for bloody freemium mobile games. They’ve started chasing the money rather than the art. The dollar signs in their eyes have blinded them to the fact that they’re sitting on a gold mine of great games from their past—they should probably take some inspiration from these and apply it to their business today. Besides, I’d rather cut my own toes off before I play a Metal Gear game with microtransactions.

editor@salient.org.nz

46

Notices

salient

Letters Letter of the Week:

Victoria Abroad– Student Exchange Fair! Deadline for Trimester 1, 2016 exchanges is JULY 16th!

Content: Why not study overseas as part of your degree?!

Study in English, Earn Vic credit, Get Studylink & grants, explore the world!

Deadline: July 16th!

Come to a Financing your Exchange Workshop: May 21 & June 23 Website: http://victoria.ac.nz/exchange Visit us: Level 2, Easterfield Building Drop-in hours: Mon-Wed 1-3pm, Thurs & Fri 10-12pm

Careers and Employment 2015-16 Internships and 2016 Graduate Jobs See Recruitment Schedule for details: http://bit. ly/1zGNacY Currently recruiting: Optiver, Pernord Richard NZ, AIESEC, Shell, Atlassian, IBM, Fisher & Paykel, Ministry of Social Development, Disney, Marketing Association, CRCC Asia, The United Nations, Microsoft, Snappers Services… and many more.

Connect with employers via Recruitment events: http:// bit.ly/1DOS0WK Upcoming employer presentations: MSD (25 May), Xero (27 May), Accor (28 May), CAANZ (22 Jul) Plant & Food Research (6 Aug) Check in with a Careers Consultant during our daily dropin sessions! http://bit.ly/1A1ORgv Get help with your CV, Cover Letter, Interview skills etc For more info, login to www.victoria.ac.nz/careerhub with your Student Computing login!

Were you a service leader at high school? Involved in running campaigns and events for local or overseas charities? This is a VUW School of Education supported study interested in canvassing student reflections of their fundraising times at high school. Come along to a focus group and share your experiences. All participants receive a movie voucher and pizza is served.

Contact rachel.tallon@vuw.ac.nz for more information and focus group times.

Information from this research will be useful for schools and charities.

www.salient.org.nz

At Lincoln it’s Comic Sans Dearest Salient, I’m loving the graduation vibes going on atm.

Grads, you’re rad. However I am extremely concerned by one detail of the graduation process.

I noticed that the font on the degrees seems to be written in (brace yourself) Monotype Corvisa.

Does the university really expect me to get into thousands of dollars of debt for a degree that won’t even guarantee me a job, and then be OKAY with the fact that it’s written in one of the most BLAND and UNAPPEALING fonts imaginable?

It’s like they’re saying, “your degree is worthless anyway. We’ll make it look shit too.” It looks like a fucking high school Australasian Math Participation Certificate. I expect the university will revise this terrible typographic decision by the time I graduate next year.

Yours truly, MoNOtype NOvisa

Letter of the Week receives two coffee vouchers and a $10 book voucher from Vic Books

Sudoku Dear Salient Sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku.

Regards, Ukodus

sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku

sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku

sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku

sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku

sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku sudoku

issue 12

Look what i saurus Hey Salient, I was studying in Level 0 of the library when I came across this cover that someone defaced, which in my opinion was a massive improvement. You should totally hire this mystery artist so you can do a legit dinosaurs issue. What is a pretentious issue anyway? I want philosoraptors, not Philosophy!

Sincerely, Fossil Hunter

47

Get a book of sudokus? They cost like nothing Dear Salient, Look at your life. Look at your choices.

I’m not expecting great things from our friendly local paper but seriously, this has gone on too long. Your lack of good puzzles/sudoku/crosswords is an embarrassment and disgrace to the university community. Your solitary sudoku in this week’s “The Pretentious Issue” had two nines and two threes in black ink in the top right handed square. What. The. Fuck.

How am I supposed to wile away hours in class/waiting between them?

Please remedy the situation.

Frustrated Puzzler

Thanks Hey there, Your sudoku was broken before it even began.

P.s I think every issue is pretentious. :p Cheers

Salient letters policy

In the Dom Dear Salient Where is the sports section? regards, Ty dolla $ign

Salient welcomes, encourages, and thrives on public debate—be it serious or otherwise—through its letters page. Letters must be received before 4pm on Thursday for publication the following week. Letters must be no longer than 250 words. Pseudonyms are fine, but all letters must include your real name, address and telephone number— these will not be printed. Letters will not be corrected for spelling or grammar. The Editor reserves the right to edit, abridge, ordecline any letters without explanation.

Email: editor@salient.org.nz Post: Salient, c/- Victoria University of Wellington Hand-delivered: Salient office, Level 3, Student Union Building (behind the Hunter Lounge)

editor@salient.org.nz

LIENT A S

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