ISSUE #6
Editor
Phoebe Robertson
Designer & Cartoonist
Jim Higgs
Sub-Editor Holly Rowsell
News Writers
Dan Moskovitz
Martha Schenk
Ryan Cleland
Otis Whinney
Columnist
Guy van Egmond
Critic-at-large
Jackson McCarthy
Comic Artists
Grace Elzenheimer
Jack Graham
Contributing Writers
Tamanna Amin
Zia Ravenscroft
Christopher Curtis
Social Media Manager
Will Tickner
Photographer
Sophie Spencer
Distributer/Contributing Writer Ali Cook
Centrefold Artist
Ai Innes-Mills
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To contribute to Salient, you can submit poetry, creative writing, artwork, comics, puzzles, features, and other ideas. Feature articles must be pitched to the Editor before writing; send pitches to editor@salient.org.nz. Artwork should be sent to designer@salient.org.nz. Creative writing submissions are accepted through the form on our website. All other contributions, including puzzles and general ideas, should be emailed to the Editor. Submissions are welcome from first-time and returning contributors.
Happy birthday to Salient’s designer, Jim Higgs! If you don’t know how Salient operates, a single man (though some days he feels more like a machine) lays out these beautiful issues of Salient every week. We mostly leave him to his own devices, but I occasionally ask him questions like:
“Jim, can you poke the penis out of Bigfoot on the cover?” or “Jim, can you figure out how to make the news page work with one less article?” or “Jim, I’m really sorry but this feature is pulled. Please design a new one for print tomorrow.”
You could say I’m a great boss.
When I asked Jim what wise words he wanted to pass on to the great students of Te Herenga Waka, he told me this:
“Try new things,” he said. Then redacted that statement to tell me, “I feel like everyone's still a bit sick, everyone’s kind of tired, the weather's getting worse, it’s a bit darker… I dunno.”
Wow. If that isn’t a stunning review of how much life he still has left in him after the first six issues of Salient!
But in all seriousness, Salient wouldn’t be able to operate without Jim in the background, constantly working hard and getting all our issues made. Quite literally, he’s the one who uploads our file every Thursday to go to print. Without him, the stands would be empty, sad, and stickerless.
But don’t just take it from me, here’s what some students had to say about Jim when I did a public call out on our Instagram:
“Every time I pick up salient I nearly bust a nut because of your beautiful designing skills HBD” @kebaker._
“J is for Jumping with Joy I is for Incredibly colorful and Inspiring drawings M is for Maybe would hire again.”
- Matt Tucker, whose name is on Jim’s contract
“Loving the art style” @vuwgreens
“I like your designs they r very nice :)” @toi.kata
“Jim does the drawing right? Oh okay, then I guess what I’d say to you is that Jim draws pretty good. I haven’t seen drawings like this since I visited my 7 year-olds cousin's house. And I found that really impressive. Now whenever I come to Salient, it feels like my cousin's house.”
- Ethan Rogacion, Jim’s boss.
“YAYY love your work the funky designs of salient always make my monday :3” @lj_baby_dragon
“Happy birthday. Salient has never looked better x” @toml0w
“I’ve never lived in Welly, I’m a lifelong UC Canta girly, and I still think your designer is cool as fuck” @amy_riach
“Jim you are one of the most sweetest and more talented people I have ever met, I love working with you.” @dan.mosky
Thanks for all the work for us you do Jim, the issues wouldn’t be the same without you. And to our students, enjoy this issue of Salient, enjoy your mid-trimester break, rest up, head home and see your families (if you’re in the position to do so), and we will see you in a couple weeks—after a well needed break.
After discussing this editorial, Jim told me a piece of advice he’d actually like to pass on is “try new things,” the example he gave me was going to The Rocky Horror Picture Show “on a weeknight no less.”
He followed this up by telling me that, “also I tried something new by dining at Mr Go’s, where the waiter hit on my girlfriend right in front of me.” He would not recommend that. “It felt emasculating. Please don’t flirt with my girlfriend in front of me, it's my birthday.”
Phoebe Robertson
Dear Editor,
I write to you in a state of dismay.
Over the last four years, I’ve watched as AI has changed the world, decimating my career aspirations along with it. Some may describe me as a luddite, but when I enrolled in this fine institution, I was expecting a level of academic rigor that would keep AI at an arm’s length. How wrong I was. WHY ARE MY LECTURE SLIDES WRITTEN BY AI.
I get it. I guarantee if I were a lecturer I also wouldn’t want to write my slides. But one specific lecturer of mine seems to wrestle every single phrase in their slides from the slop-generating grip of Claude or Gemini, leaving me wondering why I’m paying over $1000 to take their course. I genuinely expected a higher standard from the university. Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but it feels a bit lazy. They began subtly, sneaking in the usual suspicious phrasing that AI has ruined for everyone; copious em-dash usage, bullet points up the wazoo, and “it’s not just X, it’s Y.” But as the semester has gone on, they’ve become more blatantly obvious. While I’m sure the information is accurate, I don’t exactly find Chat GPT’s cadence engaging. I would much rather read something written by my actual lecturer (or at least have them reword some of the content before they copy-paste it).
I’m sure that, someday soon, I’ll have to accept that AI will always have a place in academia, and to stop bitching and moaning. But today is not that day.
Sincerely, Heather Darnley
Dear Editor,
WINNER
The learning Boyhood from a dead man column has been the subject of many of my late night ruminations this week - as evidenced by the fact I'm writing this email at 1am. Even going so far as to cause a crisis or two. Anyway, 10/10 emotionally devastating. I love it.
Kind regards, Sage van Gils-Snow.
Learn skills that can boost your happiness, mental clarity, and connections! Navigating Challenging Conversations—a new module in your Wellbeing Kete, is now live.
Created by Tauria—Student Conflict Resolution and Manawa Ora—Student Wellbeing, this evidence-based module is a practical guide to help you navigate conversations in a way that builds trust and connection.
Complete this new module by Monday 11 May and go in the draw to win one of five $50 Campus Books vouchers.
wellbeing-kete
Learn more and enrol online at wgtn.ac.nz/
Follow Student Equity and Wellbeing (@vuwequitywellbeing) on Instagram and Facebook for updates.
I can’t read (accounting student) but the pictures are nice! @zdawgonline
Winner winner chicken dinner, The winners of the Library's Poetry Competition will be announced on Thursday 2 April. Librarians were asked to vote for their top three anonymous poems, and believe me there was intense critiquing and great deliberations. All the submissions will be on display on Level 2 of Kelburn Library beside the Service Point through April. Head into Kelburn Library to view.
Submit to the Letters page by emailing editor@salient.org.nz
Best letter each week will win a FREE PIZZA from the Hunter Lounge!
Crazy work chucking a big ass bird on the cover and then opening the news with a bird flu warning, Freddy Jarman
is published by, but remains editorially independent from, the Victoria is funded in part is a member of the Aotearoa Complaints regarding the material published in Salient should first be brought to the VUWSA CEO in writing (ceo@vuwsa. org.nz). If not satisfied by the response, complaints should be directed to the Media Council (info@mediacouncil.org.nz).
Beer ‘n’ Pride
Venue: Sprig & Fern
Time: 7:00pm Cost: $20
A fundraiser for Naming NZ! Drag performers, quizzes, charity!
Week of March 30 - April 5, 2026
MONDAY MONDAY SATURDAY
Raw Meat Monday
Venue: The Fringe Bar
Time: 8:00pm Cost: $10
Wellington's longest running open mic comedy night!
TUESDAY THURSDAY
Moon Jam Nite
Venue: Moon Bar
Time: 7:30pm Cost: Free
Every Tuesday at 7:30pm Moon hosts an open mic night with a fully equipped stage.
SATURDAY SUNDAY
Start Today Fest 2026
Venue: Newtown Community Centre
Time: 12:00pm Cost: Free
11 of New Zealand’s finest hardcord, punk and adjacent bands. Also including markets, food, tattoos and more!
The Fabulous Carmen Walk Tour
Venue: Ilott Green, Cnr Jervois Quay & Harris St
Time: 1:00pm Cost: Free
Zia Ravenscroft's piece got you interested in Carmen Rupe? Learn more on a walk around town. Event free, registration required.
Battle of the Bands 2026 Semi Final 1
Venue: Valhalla Time: 8:00pm Cost: $17.50
Part of the Battle of the Bands 2026 National Championship.
Battle of the Bands 2026 Semi Final 2
Venue: Valhalla Time: 8:00pm Cost: $17.50
Part of the Battle of the Bands 2026 National Championship.
Are you a Te Herenga Waka student with an upcoming gig or event? Scan the QR code to submit your details for potential inclusion on our gigs page. SHARE YOUR GIG!
the centrefold artist -
Kia ora! My name is Ai and I am a third year film production and design student here at Te Herenga Waka. I love creating colourful pieces both traditionally and digitally, playing around with texture and shape . This piece featuring a black necked stilt is a mixed media work with a combination of acrylic paint and coloured pencils :)
Go to page 20 to see the centrefold, then rip it out and put it on your wall !
OIA Reveals $411,000 Cost of Te Hiwa Office Upgrade
Dan Moskovitz
An office move for the Vice-Chancellor and the rest of Te Hiwa cost the university $411,000—despite an initial budget of just $267,000.
The Vice-Chancellor and the rest of The Hiwa (Victoria University’s senior leadership team) have relocated to a refurbished space in the Robert Stout building, documents released under the Official Information Act (OIA) reveal.
Why? To give each Te Hiwa member their own office. The move, the university says, would improve productivity, privacy, and—somewhat more abstactly—uphold manaakitanga.
“This project will enhance the working environment for Te Hiwa members, by providing individual offices for all members,” reads a university memorandum released under the OIA. “One advantage of this relocation is that it will significantly increase the privacy for each member, enhancing confidentiality.”
The budget did not hold. While initially set at just under $270,000, the final cost reached $411,000 after a series of unbudgeted additions.
Furniture alone cost $49,000. A further $95,000 went to IT infrastructure and security.
In a statement, a university spokesperson rejected the idea that the project had gone over budget—framing the additional spending as separate.
“There was no overspend in the refurbishment and relocation of Te Hiwa offices. The costs referred to were additional costs including consents, security, loose fittings and furnishing, carpets, painting, IT and infrastructure, which were funded through other maintenance budgets and excluded from the business case estimates.”
The spokesperson added that meeting the same requirements in the Hunter Building would have been “considerably more” expensive, citing the need for further construction work.
Internally, the university assessed the project as carrying a “medium” reputational risk, with a communications plan prepared in the event of media scrutiny.
The move was also framed as contributing to Māori students' wellbeing.
“Allowing Te Hiwa to work efficiently and collaboratively together, allows under the Mai I te iho ki te pae framework the top tier of the institution, to deliver, not only better outcomes for Māori at the University, but for the wider university as well,” the memorandum states.
“‘Relevance to Māori’ is standard in business cases, to ensure we continually consider the impacts and outcomes of our actions on our Māori students and staff,” the spokesperson said.
Please feel free to write Salient letters (or opinion pieces) if you have other ideas on how to spend $411,000 to enhance Māori wellbeing at Vic.
A 2025 briefing by the Tertiary Education Commission described Victoria University as a “high-risk institution” financially, noting that many of the factors influencing their assessment sit outside the university’s control.
Hardship Fund Has Hard Time Keeping Up
Martha Schenk
Te Herenga Waka’s hardship fund has seen a sizeable increase in applications for financial aid over the past year, reflecting mounting pressure on students as living costs climb. In February alone, forty-eight students applied for asisstance—double the twenty-four who sought support in the same month last year.
Kirsty McClure, the acting Deputy Vice-Chancellor for Students, attributes the uptick to rising living expenses. “Student demand for financial support continues to grow, reflecting the real impact of the cost-of-living pressures on our community,” she said.
In 2025, the university received 408 applications to the Weekly Hardship Fund. By March of this year, 102 applications had already been submitted.
The Hardship Fund, administered by the university’s Student Finance division, is intended as an emergency measure for students facing financial difficulty. Applicants often cite high medical, transport, or course-related costs, as well as changes in employment or living situations, disability, illness, or family issues. Assistance is distributed through weekly hardship payments, equity grants, and winter energy grants, and is funded primarily through the student-paid Hardship Fee, which rose from $30 to $32 at the end of 2024.
Not all applications are approved. In 2025, 24 percent of Weekly Hardship Fund applications were rejected, along with 21 percent of energy grant applications and 36 percent of equity grant requests. As demand increases, there are concerns that rejection rates may rise further in order to prevent overspending.
“Our Hardship Fund is limited, and Student Finance carefully manages it across the year to avoid over- or under-spending,” McClure said. “Higher demand in one area can affect how funding is prioritised.”
In 2025, the Hardship Fund received $537,958 in revenue
Financial strain among students has been building for several years. Annual Student Finance reports from 2024 and 2025 both note an increase in students unable to secure employment, leaving many struggling to meet basic living costs. Demand for assistance with the cost of ADHD assessments was also high in both years. The number of students engaging with Student Finance services rose from 5148 in 2024 to 6577 in 2026.
The student job market has grown increasingly competitive. In January 2026, Student Job Search listed 4600 jobs but received 38,000 applications—roughly eight applicants per position. As a result, many students are relying on StudyLink loans, which often fall short of covering living expenses.
Aspen Jackman, VUWSA’s Welfare Vice President who sits in on Hardship Fund applications as a student representative, described the cases she encounters as “real intense”, and reflective of “unfortunate circumstances for students to be in.”
“People are having to choose between groceries, rent and transport,” she said. “There have been students pulling out of courses because StudyLink isn’t picking up the phone to pay fees on time.”
Jackman also noted increased demand for basic necessities. “The stands are running out very quickly,” she said, referring to menstrual product supplies and the community pantry. “People are going without and relying on these services.”
Opinion: Death by a Thousand Canvas Notifications
For neurodivergent students, Vic’s first-week madness is not just admin, but a barrier for learning.
Molly Laurence
Courses are hard enough. But the first few weeks back at university are even worse. New classes, new classrooms, resource layouts, tutorial sign-ups, platforms, schedules, announcements. For most people, I imagine it’s overwhelming.
For neurodivergent students, it can be something else entirely.
As a second-year law student with dyscalculia and ADHD, for me, the start of the term feels less like orientation and more like I’m being told to fuck off.
Dyscalculia is like dyslexia, but with maths. Where dyslexic people generally face additional challenges with reading and writing, dyscalculic people struggle with numbers, maths, and mathematical thinking. Combined with ADHD, it means that the internal secretary most people seem to have—the one that books appointments, remembers times and places, and handles small logistical tasks—simply doesn’t exist in my head.
In their place is a small child motivated by bright colours and pretty dresses.
As a result of much work, the university has made real progress in accommodating students with disabilities, and I respect that effort. But when it comes to invisible neurological differences, especially in the administrative chaos of the first weeks of term, the system feels profoundly hostile.
Sorting my timetable for one class at the start of the trimester took me two cups of tea, an hour (I think), tears, and two phone calls.
See: me spending what I can only assume was an hour (hello, time-blindness) ploughing through a plate of roast potatoes because estimating portion sizes is apparently a skill people have.
See: my default speed being a fast-walk, because I’m usually running late—and yet somehow still arriving at my class an hour early… again.
See: me fiddling with my rings in a lecture, trying to work out if they feel different on my finger. Have I lost weight? My ADHD drugs suppress appetite. Shit—have I forgotten to eat again? Will I need to come off them? I don’t know if I can do this if I come off them. But how did they fit before? I can’t remember. Maybe it’s completely fine.
I’m tempted to buy into the productive-ableist script and say: look, I achieve highly in other areas. I actually do fine in law. I was head girl at school.
But that argument is bullshit. My “success” is still being measured within an ableist, neuro-normative scale—and
Article continues on next page.
And that’s not unusual.
It’s a nightmarish onion nesting doll of confusion: each layer giving way to stinging tears and a new level of administrative horror.
A quiz I can initially only find on my phone asks me ten questions on a seminar I didn’t realize I missed.
I find out I’ve missed two seminars that MyAllocator didn’t say were happening.
Strangely enough, when no seems to know what what dyscalculia is—even the student magazine simplistically previously categorized ADHD as “including inattentiveness, hyperactivity, and impulsivity” (shoutout for talking about it, but for the record: I have none of those)—it feels isolating.
To be dyscalculic, and neurodivergent more broadly, is to exist in a world set to a default that isn’t yours. It can feel like death by a thousand Canvas notifications—a constant series of small collisions with systems designed for someone else’s brain. A thousand little moments of: Oh wait—this is a thing as well??
I’m also both entirely sick but also scared of being slapped with the inevitable can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen response. I know law is hard. I can handle the heat. I am handling it. But with the sheer difficulty of navigating admin in these first few weeks, it feels less like simply entering the kitchen and more like the university has buttered the handles of the doors and is watching, laughing, as I try to get in.
Which makes it especially frustrating that, within the courses themselves, I can see genuine progress happening. What benefits one marginalized community benefits us all, and organisations like Rainbow and Pacific Law are—finally—recognising the barriers that exist and trying to address them.
A few weeks ago, a lecturer immediately earned the respect of myself and my friends by starting his first class with a greeting in all three of Aotearoa’s official languages—speaking in English, te reo Māori, and signing his introduction in NZSL. He followed it with a warm Pacific greeting, and a hello to LGBTQIA+ students.
HECK yeah! The university is making progress, and I’m genuinely glad to see it.
So why are disabled students still being left out in the cold?
My dyslexic classmate in high school discovered that, in English at Scholarship level, NCEA stops offering extra compensatory time in exams. The assumption seemed to be that no one with a learning difference would be engaging at that level.
The lack of acknowledgement and support in law school feels similar. Does the administration assume disabled students will have dropped out like flies by now? Or that, as they dole out our extra ten minutes in an exam like porridge in Oliver Twist, our barriers miraculously cease to exist?
I don’t believe so. There’s too many disabled people doing incredible mahi in law to think that, and too many people in the teaching system with warmth and common sense. As that badass lecturer demonstrated—this is a structural issue, not a staff one.
So why does it feel like, in law—and especially in the start-of-term organisational phase—there’s such a distinct lack of recognition or support? I feel like the Little Match Girl, shivering outside a window, looking in at the warmth.
And, to be fair, I know I could start a Disabled Law Students’ Association—like the Feminist Law Society, or the Asian Law Students’ Association. I could email people, form a group, and probably have quite a lot of support to do so. Vic is woke. I know I’m not the only disabled person here. It would be welcome. I could build community; create a channel to advocate for people like me in the university. We could make change.
But I don’t have time.
I don’t have the energy. I am investing most of what I have simply in getting through each week, and any spare change left is spent meal-prepping or reassuring friends I
haven’t forgotten they exist. I’m only writing this—which realistically I really shouldn’t be doing, because I have an 8:30 a.m. tomorrow that I need to prepare for—because it’s either than or rage-crying.
Maybe that’s why there isn’t a Disabled Law Students’ Association. Maybe everyone like me is too busy just trying to survive.
Sometimes, I can’t even say exactly why it’s so hard. How the grey slots of MyAllocator (seriously—you couldn’t even add colour to differentiate them?) blur together to become interchangeable in my mind. How the times slip and writhe in my grasp like eels in mud.
Sometimes, though, it’s obvious.
Some classes have study groups, others have tutorials, and others have workshops. Some start in week two, some in week three. The information is scattered somewhere across four different subjects, five different Nuku pages, multiple announcements, emails (which subject is it for again?), and two separate platforms for viewing schedules—both presenting different information and refusing to synchronise.
And for one—couldn’t tell you which—of the topics floating unaffiliated in my brain, all the tutorials are listed in irregular time slots organised by week—but not weeks of the trimester. Weeks of the year since January.
Which means there’s now another thing I need to Google.
The three principles we are taught in law are that communication must be plain and simple, without ambiguity or jargon, and that it is concise and direct. In a highly ironic seminar on legal communication that has me keyboard-bashing quotes, an example is given of a wordy statute. The lecturer comments: “It looks scary and hard to tackle. If this was my lawyer writing advice to me, they’re fired.”
This beautifully expresses what I find hard to articulate. Dense bundles of information make me feel overwhelmed and—while technically navigable—make it harder, and less likely, for me to do so.
Maybe they need to practice what they teach?
I don’t expect everyone to understand what this feels like. But it would be nice, at least, to hear an acknowledgement that disabled law students exist—and that not all disabilities are visible.
My expectations, unfortunately, are not that high.
I just want it to stop being so darn hard.
My flatmate—also disabled—sits on my bed helping me sort out a workshop that clashes with a lecture. They tell me not to give up. Fight the system.
This feels like the scene in the movies where the main character disappears and comes back stronger. English students will recognise it in Joseph Campbell’s story arc as the “transformation,” the “reward” after the ordeal stage, the inevitable dawn after the dark night of the soul.
It’s Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde returning to do whatever she does in pink. The knight rising stronger to slay the dragon. Ser Duncan being screamed at to get up! It’s the “freaks” in The Greatest Showman’s dubious circus defiantly dancing through the streets with no apologies for being me (erm—them).
The underdog story is familiar. Triumph against adversity is practically a cultural template. Harship, in these stories, smoothly and inevitably transforms into success.
But my life is not a movie, it does not follow a three-act structure. Each darkest night is followed by a new dawn, followed by another night. Every day I walk to class past the Beehive breathing in optimism, and walk home past the Beehive breathing out frustration and isolation and fear before collapsing into bed.
There is no one single test to ace, no bleach-blond princelet to maul, no socially shocking beard to flaunt in a celebration of personal truth.
I have a disability. It’s invisible. It’s part of my identity. The construction of the university system right now—like a speed-bump at the start of a wheelchair-access ramp—is a barrier to my learning. It will not go away even if I wreathe myself in a hundred “embrace neurodiversity!” stickers and bury myself in a rotting pyre of sunflower lanyards.
A legal education is what, in some insubstantial digital realm, I believe my Studylink has been paying for. But the cost I am actually paying—in addition to my university fees—is something I couldn’t tell you.
This past week has seen me raging on the phone to my boyfriend and my parents, slumping down dramatically
on my bed next to my flatmate. It’s seen me putting off studying for five hours that I can’t afford because I feel so paralysed at the thought of navigating the timetable system I can’t sit down at my desk.
It’s seen me realise I missed a workshop, and feel physically nauseous at the thought of the process required to locate the information and get into a new one. It’s seen me sniffing as my flatmate tells me that they’re proud of me—that this is tough, and they see how hard I’m trying. My parents call to check in and ask if I’m sure I want to do this.
And the thing is, I do.
I love what I’m learning. I find it interesting and inspiring. I know I am lucky to be here. And, personal enjoyment aside, I’m not doing this just for myself.
There is so much in this world worth protecting: our environments, our taonga species, our traditional practices, our rights to participate, and our democracy. The world, as it is, has battles we need to fight for it. Like a certain hapless knight still believing in chivalry—or perhaps the rule of law—I have sworn my oath to defend it: our ecosystems, blue and green, and our glorious, glittering multiplicity of diversity.
Our trans kids, our high-risk communities, whateverthe-heck-else Parliament is trying to destroy right now.
I love this world, and I’m determined to fight for it. Law is how I’ll do that. And I will.
It’s just—why do I have to battle to do even that?
news tips
If you’ve got a news tip (or an opinion piece like this one) about what’s happening around Te Herenga Waka—or anything that affects students—we want to hear about it.
Scan our QR code or email editor@salient.org.nz. We’re always keen to know what’s going on in the halls (yes, including the menu), anything unfolding around campus, or any questions you’ve got about what’s happening here. If there’s something studentrelevant you think we should look into, let us know.
Anti-Woke American philosopher hosted by Free Speech Union at New Zealand Universities.
Abbi Maidment
An anti-woke US influencer brought to New Zealand got a small but appreciative university crowd in Wellington last week.
Peter Boghossian was one of two “anti-woke” international speakers hosted at Te Herenga Waka’s Pipita Campus on Friday, 20 March.
Brought to Aotearoa by the Free Speech Union New Zealand and hosted at the university by Generation Screwed (a subsidy of the taxpayers' union), Boghossian and Marian L. Tupy spoke to a group of around 30 people, including students, staff, and members of the public.
The aim of the event was to “Challenge pessimism about young people’s future and to create space for rigorous, good-faith debate on the ideas that shape it.”
Marian L. Tupy is both an author and the founder and editor of Human Progress. In his writings and public appearances, Tupy has expressed his belief that overpopulation is a myth and aims to promote optimism about humanity's future.
Peter Boghossian describes himself on his Substack as a philosopher and author who aims to “restore free speech” and “reveal the implications of far-left ideological takeover”.
He has amassed over 700,000 followers across his social media platforms, with some of his most popular YouTube content receiving over 2 million views.
His YouTube videos consist of him conducting thought experiments on the streets by asking people to share their opinions on controversial topics such as “Should trans women compete in female sports?" and “Is America racist?” and engaging in debates about these subjects. He has coined the term street epistemology to describe these encounters.
Topics of discussion included the censorship of discourse on subjects such as race, gender, and ideology, the progress of humankind, and avoiding ‘over-correcting’ on issues like climate change.
Attendees showed broad agreement with the pair’s ideological beliefs and shared concerns about a rise in public censorship of viewpoints that are not currently considered “morally fashionable”.
Tupy concluded the event by encouraging attendees to remain hopeful about humanity's future, emphasising that all challenges can be overcome through human ingenuity.
Tupy and Boghossian attended another event hosted by the New Zealand Free Speech Union and Generation Screwed on Tuesday, 24 March at the University of Auckland.
It is expected that Boghossian filmed one of his street epistemology videos on Cuba Street while in Wellington.
Affordable Eats at Kelburn: What Are Students Paying For?
Part three of a three-part opinion series exploring affordable food options on campus at Te Herenga Waka.
Ryan Cleland
Ah, Kelburn. Te Herenga Waka's largest, busiest, and— depending on who you ask—most culinarily blessed campus. I’ll admit a certain bias: I’ve never had classes anywhere else. Still, it remains my campus, softened further by the fact that everyone I spoke to here was markedly kinder than the architecture students I encountered last week.
Kelburn boasts the widest spread of food options across the university’s campuses. The question, then, isn’t whether you can eat—it’s whether what you’re eating is worth the price.
Even amid this abundance, certain institutions loom large. The Lab, for instance, continues to hold its ground, locked in what might be described as a cold war of baked goods supremacy. Its cheese scone, once a dependable $5 staple, has crept up by fifty cents this year—an increase students noted with the solemnity usually reserved for rent hikes or whatever Christopher Luxon says next.
Still, loyalty persists. One student confessed that on forgotten-lunch days, they simply “grab a cheese scone from The Lab and tough it out.”
Not everyone is convinced. For some, the Lab has crossed the invisible threshold from indulgence to excess. In response, students turn to alternatives that balance cost and comfort. Subway’s sub-of-the-day maintains a staunch stronghold, queues swelling predictably between lectures. Yet perhaps the most passionately defended spot is the Kimchi Noodle Bar. Here, $10 hot meal combos—rice, protein, and salad—offer both sustenance and, crucially, a sense of familiarity.
Denys, the man behind the counter, is spoken of less as an employee and more as a campus figurehead. “The nicest person on campus,” one student insisted. Another, in a much longer tribute, distilled their feelings into a simple refrain: “I love Kimchi Noodle Bar because of Denys.”
Denys - Kimchi Noodle Bar
Another popular choice was Maki Mono, though it was frequently described as “overpriced”. It seems the strategy here is to play the long game: waiting until post 4 p.m. where the sushi becomes heavily discounted.
One student tells me the $3 discounted sushi rice “is ideal for fried rice in the evening.” A double whammy, perhaps?
Elsewhere, enthusiasm becomes more measured. Where’s Charlie surfaces occasionally in conversation, though often accompanied by a caveat about cost. A lecturer described the bánh mì as “nice and healthy, not heavy”— praise that, while genuine, seemed to stop short of full endorsement once price entered the equation.
But if you’re looking for a low-cost option, Krishna is the resounding solution. Students told me that a “$6 samosa goes far.” Or, their famous $8 Krishna plates (curry, salad, rice, dessert) “are good bang for your buck.” Krishna also has the added benefit of all of their meals being vegan friendly. They have held the fort at Kelburn for over 20 years now and there seems to be a good reason they are still around. Our editor noted that if you have a little extra to splurge, the $11 lasagna is fantastic and still cheaper than your sushi (and probably holds more nutritional value).
Likewise, Ngā Mokopuna, serves $8 student meals every day of the week. A lesser known option, but definitely one of the better ones. When I arrived, they were serving Southern Fried Chicken Burger and Fries. Delish! The only miss? That they don’t have any vegetarian options. But if you’ve got the budget for Krishna, and are looking for meat, they’re certainly the best option on campus.
For the best deals, though, I was told to head to Ramsey House. It’s located just down the road from the Murphy Building, and $2 tea and coffee is delivered daily. But the real treat comes on Thursdays and Fridays where $2 toasties and brownies are offered.
Ramsey House is run by Te Herenga Waka’s Chaplaincy. As part of this investigation, I spoke to one of the chaplains there: Karel Van Helden. He tells me that their “primary focus isn't on being a commercial cafe.”
They are interested in creating and fostering a space that makes “people feel really welcome, that people's names get remembered most of the time and that there is room to sit or to be.” Van Helden explained that the service began with 50 odd students but that over the years they now see “four or five hundred people a week.”
The $2 toasties are frequently cited as one of the best deals on offer not just at Kelburn Campus, but at Te Herenga Waka in general. Van Helden explained to me that the cheap toasties aren’t designed to attract customers, but as a way “of recognizing a need.” As the cost of living goes up, Ramsey House maintains a strong grip—and kaupapa—regarding providing affordable meals to students.
Still, something I’ve heard resignedly since starting this series is that the best choice on campus is the simplest one: to bring food from home. Last night's leftovers are today's slightly marinated lunch, or something like that.
Well, this author isn’t surprised to learn that Kelburn has the best food on offer (mainly because it’s what he expected to begin with). It’s got a vast array of options, and options that keep it squarely under budget. Thanks for joining me on this three-part culinary journey. I hope that next time you don’t know what to eat, you’ll feel a little wiser, and will think of me chomping down on a $2 toastie or $8 Krishna plate.
Ramsey House
STRICTLY 4 THE ISLANDS
STAKES IS HIGH: Strained Relationships in the Moana
Otis Whinney
Something is always happening in our sea of islands. In the Solomon Islands, for example, March 16 saw the shock resignation of 10 MPs in an apparent government takeover by the People First Party (PFP) against Prime Minister Manele’s OUR Party. This comes after Manele survived multiple votes of no confidence in Parliament, and as the Solomon Islands remain split on their relationships with places like China and Australia. Opposition MP Peter Kenilorea Jr was quoted by The Guardian in January saying there is a “battle for the hearts and minds going on” when it comes to the competition for influence in the Solomon Islands. As all sides increase their policing and defense ties with the Solomons, it doesn’t look like this political turmoil will cease for these islands anytime soon.
The Solomons are not the only place being forced to confront these ideas. Cook Island’s Prime Minister Mark Brown was in Aotearoa recently, but interestingly decided not to chat with Luxon, despite him recently returning from his trips to Sāmoa and Tonga. His Sāmoa trip, by the way, was a mess before he even stepped foot in the 685. After it was falsely claimed by the Sāmoan government that Luxon requested to have a Sāmoan title bestowed upon him, the descendants of the title he would be receiving began a legal case to stop the ceremony. The ceremony was conducted anyway, and Luxon is now an official holder of the Tuisinavemaulumoto'otua title. I think Luxon’s dance moves during the ceremony show how deserving he was of this.
Tonga’s meeting was far less dramatic, with Tonga's Prime Minister Lord Fakafanua welcoming the Lux and showing his support for easing restrictions around Pacific people traveling in and around New Zealand. Tonga is, of course, also stuck in a political middle ground, as the USA’s increasing anti-immigrant sentiment affects Tongans and other Pacific peoples, and as their debt with China grows (reaching $112 million according to World Bank data from November 2025). King Tupou VI of Tonga met with President of China Xi Jinping last year, where Xi pledged that “No matter how the international situation changes, China will continue to support Tonga in safeguarding its national independence and sovereignty.” So if you trust the Chairman, then Tonga has absolutely nothing to worry about.
But back to the Cook Islands. The Cook Islands were once a part of New Zealand back in our empire days, but now they exist as an independent state in ‘free association’ with New Zealand. This vague description of the two countries' relationship has led to a long year of back and forth between Winston Peters and Mark Brown, as the Cook Islands sign deals with China and host sanctioned oil tankers linked to Russia and Iran. A pause in aid was the response from New Zealand, and at this moment it has still yet to be resolved. Former New Zealand Prime Minister Helen Clarke has argued that the causes for concern on New Zealand’s side have not come from thin air, citing parts of the China agreement like “a clause that says the two countries, Cook Islands and China, undertake to support each other's candidates in international organisational elections where they're both members,” something she claims New Zealand would never agree to. She also believes the relationship is salvageable, but only time will tell there.
Mark Brown did meet with our mate Winston informally to discuss the cross-roads our two nations find themselves in. Brown clearly wants the Cook Islands to be afforded a level of autonomy that any other independent state would get, while New Zealand seems keen on maintaining a status quo that it doesn't see any issue with. While speaking in Aotearoa, Brown stated that “there are times when we must pause and consider whether the conventions and evolved understanding between our freely associated states remain aligned … we find ourselves in such a moment”—a clear message of intent if ever there was one. Regardless of whether or not you think New Zealand was right to react to these dealings the way they did, there is no denying that this moment cannot be erased from our collective memories. That paused aid won’t materialise out of thin air for the Cook Islands, and I can think of a certain People’s Republic in East Asia that may be ready to pick up where we left off if this one doesn’t get sorted out.
In this constant game of power-politics, it can be very difficult for these island nations we inhabit to keep our voices at the forefront of issues that matter to us the most. Climate change, for example, is a front line issue for many small Pacific countries, but one that is caused
largely from the decisions of external, much larger states that will be insulated from some of the more extreme results for longer (although, everyday that timeframe gets shorter). COP31, the 31st annual meeting between nations to discuss climate change, is to be held in Türkiye this year. This is in spite of the fact that Australia and the Pacific have been agitating for it to be held in a Pacific nation, where the immediate issues can be made clear to those visiting. The consensus for that was not reached, and Australia was forced to compromise with only a preCOP meeting to take place in the Pacific before COP31. Taken in tandem with the US’s attempts to block global climate action (which I mentioned last week for those who read it), it becomes clear that on the global stage, not all voices are truly equal. Insert shocked surprise face.
Our leaders seem very aware of the fact that the world landscape is changing. As the climate battle rages on in the political realm, war and unrest continues to expand in the physical. Recent developments in West Papua, for example, remind us that the scourge of colonial violence is not something our region can leave in the past. After a February 11 attack on an airport left two civilians dead, the Indonesian government has pledged to crack down on what they see as a rising security issue in West Papua. The attack was carried out by armed rebels who came into existence after Indonesia’s annexation of the western part of the Island of Papua last century—an annexation that was carried out with no legal basis and little support from the indigenous peoples of West Papua.
Benny Wenda, President of the United Liberation Movement for West Papua (ULMWP), has publicly decried the accused bombing campaigns the Indonesian government has been carrying out in West Papua since January—“According to Human Rights Defenders on the ground, the Indonesian military used drones to drop bombs on the refugee camp in Kembru District, forcing civilians from nine villages to flee into the forest. These are mostly women (some of them pregnant), children, and elders: defenceless people who have already been displaced from their homes by previous military operations.” Wenda’s claims are far from baseless, with ample evidence of this type of violence from the Indonesian state being brought to the forefront over
the decades. Indonesia continues to deny such claims. Much like Palestine or Sudan, most places would rather not think about it. This old-school colonial conflict is going on in an island directly above Australia, a clear sign if ever there was one that things are not all goods in our region.
The stakes have never been higher for us, and the rest of the world, perhaps since the Pacific was embroiled in the second World War and decolonisation. As the more influential states (New Zealand included) throw their diplomatic weight around to try and shape our region in their image, we must remember that this isn’t new. A lot of these states used to belong to global empires before gaining independence, and while some still have yet to reach that point, the way the Pacific looks today is proof that big powers don’t have to win big power politics, and sometimes they can even lose. As a wise man once said: “any nation that oppresses another, forges its own chains.”
Freshers’ flu—the informal name for the rapid spread of viral illnesses at the start of the university year—is driven by fatigue, close living quarters, big group events, and the ever-present fear of missing out. Almost every student learns what it is through word of mouth or, more commonly, by catching it themselves.
Most people push through and come to campus. For many, it's just a cough and a runny nose. But for others, freshers’ flu is far more than a simple cold.
I am a chronically ill student—meaning I live with multiple long-term health conditions—which has led to me becoming disabled and significantly at risk when I catch a cold, flu, or COVID-19.
In 2022, I caught COVID-19 and was hospitalized with severe neurological symptoms because of my underlying conditions. I’ve thankfully avoided it since by masking, hand sanitizing, and relying on communication from my friends when they’re feeling unwell.
I've caught colds over the past few years, and each time I become significantly unwell. My chronic illnesses flare— meaning they worsen—resulting in severe tachycardia (a very high heart rate; mine can reach 200 bpm from simple activities), vomiting, severe joint pain, and fatigue. These symptoms make my already disabling conditions absolutely debilitating.
In 2025, I caught one of the later waves of freshers’ flu and, as usual, it hit me incredibly hard. I experienced severe nausea and vomiting that left me barely able to eat. While these symptoms improved over several weeks, I never returned to normal. In fact, in the months that followed, my health declined further. Over time, I stopped being able to eat much. As a result, I became underweight and malnourished, was hospitalized, had to withdraw from university for the rest of the year, and had an NJ tube placed—a feeding tube that goes through my nose and into my small intestine to bypass my stomach as I can't tolerate food. It provides the nutrition, hydration, and medications I need to survive and function.
My life is further taken up by medications, running feeds, flushing my tube, attending appointments,
and managing chronic nausea and vomiting—alongside also managing other symptoms—while trying to live my life and be a full-time university student.
This is already exhausting and debilitating. My health is at a severe risk if I catch another illness.
Other conditions, such as myalgic encephalomyelitis (or ME/CFS) are often triggered by viral infections. ME/ CFS is a severe chronic illness that, in its worst forms, can leave people bed bound and unable to tolerate any form of light, sound, or human interaction. Becoming sick can significantly lower a person's baseline, shifting them from mild to severe.
Catching a cold, flu, or COVID-19 can result in anyone becoming chronically ill or disabled. The chronic illness and disability community is one of the only minorities you can join at any point in your life—and, frankly, joining it in some form is almost inevitable, whether through old age, illness, or accident.
For many other chronically ill students, freshers’ flu has similarly severe impacts.
I sent out a survey to students in the Disabled Students Association. The results were striking: 67% of respondents considered themselves immunocompromised, 83% have caught freshers’ flu or other illnesses while at university, and 83% said that catching any form of illness significantly impacted their health.
Many respondents described severe joint pain, fatigue, longer recovery times, and long-term impacts after getting sick.
One student shared that after catching the flu while in halls, they experienced not only the usual symptoms but also chronic illness flares and even a dislocated rib from coughing due to a genetic condition affecting joint stability. It took them two weeks to recover from the acute illness, and several months to return to their baseline.
Another student reported being bedbound for two weeks and having to drop a course.
Michaela Caughley
Similarly, another was hospitalized in April 2025 due to catching an illness and ultimately failed a course as a result.
Others described how pre-existing lung damage worsens with respiratory illness, leading to coughing that can last for several months after infection.
One who's on immunosuppressants for Crohn's disease shared that they now get sicker more easily and suffer ongoing complications from frequent chest infections.
In one final example, a student explained that they now require a walking stick due to the long-term impacts of COVID-19.
Most respondents reported taking measures to avoid getting sick. Hand sanitizing was the most common, alongside masking, distancing from unwell people, and taking vitamins/supplements.
When asked what they wanted the general student body to understand, several responses stood out:
"I have a lifelong chronic illness due to catching Covid. To them it's a couple of weeks of not feeling great but to me it's the rest of my life and my ability to participate in society."
"I just want people to know that even though it is important to go to class, when you are sick it is so important to stay home. Even if you feel ok enough to go to class, you can pass your illness to someone who might be really affected, and it can have long term consequences."
"Just because you don't get that sick doesn't mean others are the same. A small sniffle to you could have another person bed bound. We're in a big university, and those in halls are living with many people, it's not just yourself you need to think about but those around you too."
"Infecting other students in your lectures will have a greater impact than working from home for a few days. Don't come to campus sick."
I have worked so hard to be able to attend university despite my health challenges. The reality that someone attending campus with a mild cold could result in me being hospitalized or forced to withdraw is deeply frustrating.
If you can, please stay home when you are sick—even if it's just mild for you.
Many lectures are recorded, and lecturers and course coordinators are accommodating if you communicate with them. They don't want to get sick either.
If you absolutely must come to campus while unwell, make a conscious effort to protect those around you: wear a mask, hand sanitize, cough into your elbow, and maintain distance where possible.
If you’re in halls, many offer isolation meals. Hall staff and RAs can deliver these to you, assign isolation bathrooms, and support you in recovering while protecting others.
What may be a simple cold for you can be life-changing, debilitating, or life-threatening for someone else.
It's the difference between mild inconvenience and a life-altering illness for others—and the small actions you take might literally save someone's life.
For those of us with chronic illnesses, we simply want to feel safe and to access our education like any other student.
It is frightening and stressful to sit in a lecture hall hearing people coughing and sniffling, knowing the impacts catching that illness could have on you and your friends.
I have significant anxiety around catching COVID-19 due to my past hospitalisation and fear that my health—particuarlly my ability to eat—could deteriorate even further.
Salient's Volunteer Wildlife Correspondent, Kent Newman
—what really is Islam?
From “Allahu Akbar” to bomb cuisines
What is Islam?
You may have seen some serious tea spilling in the news lately involving Muslims and their religion—but have you ever wondered about who they really are? Give us five minutes of your time to find out whether “Allahu Akbar” really is a trigger phrase for bombs in backpacks.
Islam is a faith centred on the belief in one God (Allah), and a way of life that invites inner peace through conscious submission to the Divine. It is rooted in the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and the Qur’an, the foundational text of Islam.
Islamic philosophy teaches that all humans belong to one global community: The Ummah. In other words: “Ehara tāku toa he toa takitahi, engari he toa takitini.” My success should not be bestowed onto me alone, as it was not individual success but the success of a collective.
Islam teaches us to love one other, to be generous to the poor and uplift the disadvantaged, to be kind to our neighbours, to stand up for the oppressed (including the call for tino rangatiratanga), to protect the wellbeing of the Earth (kaitiakitanga), and to build a world with peace and justice for all, regardless of our differences.
Beyond the headlines and tired jokes, Islam at its core encourages a life of purpose, compassion, and self-refinement.
Muslims pray, fast, give in charity, and seek knowledge to become better individuals and contribute to a more just and balanced world—one where sincerity and intention are just as important as action. Islam offers a deeply ethical and spiritually grounded framework for engaging with life and community, calling people from all nations and walks of life to the one true message—regardless of their upbringing, culture, or faith background.
The
VicMuslims Club
VicMuslims is the official Muslim Students’ Association at Te Herenga Waka. We are proud to have 200+ members, including sizable international and domestic students. Our community is diverse—Islam is not bound to one ethnic group or region, rather a kaleidoscope of the beautiful diversity God created humans in.
The club’s primary role is to support, encourage, and foster a sense of belonging and community for Muslim students and staff on campus. We do this through events, community engagement, and by maintaining the Muslim prayer rooms on campus.
In short: we’re just a chill group of people trying to live moral, fulfilling lives. “Allahu Akbar” simply means “God is Great” and is an expression we use to refer to strong emotions within us.
Ngā mihi nui and Salam, The VicMuslims Club
If you’re interested to find out more about Islam or getting in touch with us, flick us an email at vicmuslimsclub@gmail.com or DM us on Instagram @vicmuslimsclub
Abdullah Drury ISLAMIC Perspective on Jesus EASTER and the
In nomine Dei, miseratoris, misericordis.
Easter, or the Feast of the Resurrection, occupies a central place in the Christian liturgical calendar. This year, it will occur a few weeks after the end of Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting during daylight, and the Muslim festival of Eid al-Fitr.
Commemorating the resurrection of Jesus Christ on the third day following his crucifixion in 33 AD, Easter is regarded (alongside Christmas) as one of the most significant religious observances in Christianity. Given that Jesus (“Isa” in Arabic) is also a revered prophet in Islam, the question arises: what significance, if any, does Easter hold for New Zealand Muslims?
Today the Muslim population, numbering over 60,000, reflects a complex interplay of migration, conversion, and generational development. To the untrained eye, New Zealand Muslims may seem a little aimless. However, this community may be broadly categorized into four sociological groupings.
The first includes immigrants from diverse regions, spanning both recent arrivals and long-established families. The second comprises refugees (African, Asian, and European) whose resettlement is shaped by displacement and humanitarian policy. Third are converts, predominantly from Anglo-European and
Polynesian backgrounds, drawn to Islam through spiritual conviction or marital ties. Fourth are New Zealand-born descendants of these groups, including children of mixed heritage, who embody evolving, hybrid identities.
This layered demographic challenges reductive narratives of religious minorities and invites a more nuanced understanding of belonging, citizenship, and cultural negotiation. As these communities continue to grow and adapt, they contribute to the redefinition of New Zealand’s pluralistic landscape, raising critical questions about national identity, civic inclusion, and the future of religious diversity.
While Easter itself is not observed within Islamic tradition, the figure of Jesus is deeply respected. Numerous Muslims bear his name, and the Quran affirms his status as both a nabi (prophet) and a rasul (messenger) of God, specifically sent to guide the Children of Israel. He is described as Kalimatullah (“God’s Word”) and referred to as al-Masih (“the Messiah”) eleven times. The phrase Isa ibn Maryam (“Jesus, son of Mary”) appears thirty-three times throughout the Islamic scripture, underscoring his theological prominence.
However, the Islamic conception of Jesus diverges significantly from Christian doctrine, particularly regarding his death and resurrection.
The Quran explicitly denies the crucifixion, asserting instead that Jesus was neither killed nor crucified, but that it merely appeared so to his contemporaries.
This theological distinction serves as a critical demarcation between Islamic and Christian understandings of Jesus. Most Muslims believe that Jesus was miraculously raised to heaven by God and remains alive, awaiting a future return during the eschatological “final days” to defeat the Dajjal (antichrist).
The identity of the substitute—who was crucified in Jesus’ place—has been the subject of considerable speculation among Muslim historians. While some posit a willing volunteer, others suggest divine retribution upon an adversary, with Judas Iscariot frequently cited in popular folklore.
It is worth noting that interpretive diversity exists within the Muslim world. The Ahmadiyya community, a Muslim minority sect originating in South Asia, maintains that Jesus was indeed crucified but survived, later migrating to Kashmir under the name Yuz Asaf. According to this narrative, he lived out his days in India and established a local lineage –an account that remains controversial and is rejected by mainstream Islamic scholarship as cognitive dissonance.
Despite doctrinal differences, Christianity and Islam share historical and theological intersections. Both traditions affirm the prophetic mission of Jesus, his miraculous birth, and his ethical teachings.
In this light, Easter (though not commemorated by Muslims) can serve as a reflective moment for interfaith dialogue. It highlights the shared reverence for Jesus and invites deeper understanding of the theological nuances that distinguish the two faiths.
I read a lot of history books and my own thoughts here turn to the popular song “Aiwa Saida” that New Zealand soldiers sang whilst in North Africa during World War Two. The lyrics—replete with references to an Arab musician named Ali Yusuf—hint at the close relationship that once existed between different peoples fighting fascism together.
So then, the Islamic perspective on Jesus is increasingly relevant in public discourse in this country as religious pluralism becomes more pronounced. A concerted effort to foster mutual respect and theological literacy has become essential.
Ultimately, while Muslims do not celebrate Easter, the occasion offers an opportunity to acknowledge the profound commonalities between Christianity and Islam, and also the differences. Both traditions, despite their serious doctrinal divergences, affirm a vision of Jesus that continues to inspire billions across the globe.
As the Quran teaches Muslims: “The closest in affection to Muslims are those who say: ‘We are Christians’” (5: 82).
Hajji Abdullah Drury is a Hamilton Muslim and author of the book: A History of Christchurch Muslims – Integration and Harmony (2024).
Bram Casey the least famous girl at the waffle house
i don’t know anything / i get so cold / i’m not universally recognisable just yet but more than ordinary
can i put your jacket on / all my friends are so much older than me so much more aware / internal so much further inside themselves
if i burned down a house in the suburbs would you look at me like the glowing sky after the party / if i started crying when the sun came up / would you kiss my neck on your mother’s doorstep / would you / i’m always so confused
do you actually like me?
you said you did but only because i said it first / the other day lily said she saw a dead black swan wash up on freyberg beach
if i had a house / and it was full of people / would you make them all get the fuck out / so i could watch the sky slice itself into soft wet silver pieces / massage my temples and sit with my feet tucked under my ass as the morning explodes
Bram Casey is a 19-year-old Theatre student at Te Herenga Waka, and originally hails from Ōtepoti, Dunedin. He really loves Ella. Like, SO much. He is of Irish, Norwegian, and Ngāti Maniapoto descent. You can read his work in bad apple, The Free Body Problem, and an issue or two of Salient from 2025.
ella sage sunset, wakari, otepoti. _
i'm outside your family home and you are over the ocean (as many people whose feet have kissed this corner of footpath are). you speak to me in the gently tossed sunset. i am in her golden underbelly.
we have to stop meeting like this. burn against the salted skyline, open my knees on the coarse gravel between gutter and white lines, pretend pain is real enough to feel from seven ninety two k's apart. my blood passes between your teeth, twilight tincture.
behind me the concept of a suburb burns and the evening stretches ever onwards. i raise my hands to swing from the horizon take me with you.
shins slicked, smoke stacked, sirens slowly falling silent. nothing (good) happens in this old, empty city. the streets flood.
we used to burn with desire. i still get nightmares of drowning on my way to school after hillside road became a river. the embers get so cold.
green flash over mt cargill sun swallower sending smoke signals over the cook strait swing down the horizon till it's all ours.
ella sage (she/they) is a 20-year-old writer, editor and student currently living in ōtautahi. ella's work can be found in Canta, Create Happy Magazine, Gremlins Ōtautahi and bad apple, on her own substack inthiscorneroftheworld and in co-authored substack summer of love alongside bram casey. if you fail at finding her poetry online, look to the ocean - it's usually singing the same songs ella does. while ella is currently serving as managing editor of Canta, the student magazine at UC, she couldn't deny a request to have a poem accompanying the least famous girl at the waffle house by her longtime collaborator/twin flame/soulmate bram casey. sunset, wākari, ōtepoti takes inspo from bram's poetry and the views from outside his family home on a balmy september evening.
When your ‘real’ self used CHAT P.P.P, we created a digital clone based off all their data. The ‘real’ you is completely unaware that this process has occured.
I think I've found the one! many, many upgrades later...
Bad Bunny Reminds us:
“Mientras uno está vivo, uno debe amar lo más que pueda.”1 (“BAILE INoLVIDABLE”)
Bad bunny’s parting words echoed across Sydney’s Engie Stadium as 90,000 fans gathered across two sold-out nights for his long-awaited Australian debut. Tickets vanished almost instantly, setting audience records and marking the first time a Latin artist has sold out a stadium in Australia.
Crowds of all ages and nationalities—from those who had been loyal since his trap beginnings in 2016, to those who had been enticed by his Super Bowl performance at the start of the month—boarded buses, planes, and trains to see Spotify’s Global Top Artist. Sydney marked just the fifth stop on the originally 23-date Debi Tirar Más Fotos World Tour—his first-ever world tour—which has since expanded to more than 45 shows across four continents.
De Puerto Rico, para el mundo entero2
national musicians, who all come together to pay tribute to their long-suffering homeland and celebrate its culture and history.
While many listeners may not be familiar with Puerto Rico’s place as an “unincorporated territory” of the United States, they know Bad Bunny—the 31-year-old global star whose name stems from a childhood photo of him dressed, and visibly unimpressed, in a bunny costume. What began as a memorable username on SoundCloud and Twitter (now X) quickly became a brand. In 2016, his breakout single “Diles” secured him a deal with Hear This Music, launching a career that would redefine Latin music’s global presence.
“Benito, hijo de Benito, le decían "Tito" El mayor de seis trabajando desde chamaquito Guiando camiones como el pa y el abuelo Aunque su sueño siempre fue ser ingeniero”3 (“LA MuDANZA”)
In “LA MuDANZA”, Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (aka Bad Bunny) traces his family’s working-class roots in Puerto Rico, honouring their sacrifices that shaped his upbringing in the country that raised him. His homeland has long been central to his music, but it reaches its peak in his latest Grammy winning album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS, the first ever Spanish-language record to win Album of the Year.
The album plays like an extended love letter to Puerto Rico, blending traditional genres like plena, bomba, and salsa with his signature reggaeton and trap. Across its 17 tracks, Bad Bunny sings, raps, and dances alongside
Since then, Bad Bunny has released seven solo albums and one collaborative project with Colombian artist J Balvin. A total of 113 of his singles have entered the Billboard Hot 100, with 29 songs superpassing one billion streams on Spotify. Following his Super Bowl performance, his Spotify streams surged by around 470% in the US. This boost also benefitted other Spanish-language artists, including featured halftime performer Ricky Martin (+145%), and even prompted improvements to lyric translation features on the platform.
This wasn’t always the case. I can vividly remember laughing at the boys in my Year 10 class who proudly proclaimed themselves “Los Conejos”4 and hopped into lessons quoting his early trap lyrics. A “trap house” is slang for a ramshackle residence where drugs are illegally bought and sold, a term that originated in Atlanta, Georgia. These environments inspire trap music, a subgenre of Southern hip-hop that often centers on themes of violence and sexuality. In Spanish, these themes remain largely the same, and the songs are frequently labelled vulgar or crass.
1 While one is alive, one must love as much as one can.
2 From Puerto Rico, to the entire world.
3 Benito, son of Benito, he was known as Tito, The oldest of 6 working since he was a child Guiding trucks like his father and grandfather before him. Although he had always dreamt of becoming an engineer.
4 The Bunnies; the collective term for followers of Bad Bunny
Victoria Cantalapiedra Mateo
I’ll admit that I didn’t see his appeal at first. That changed in 2020, when I was a fresher at university and one of the girls I really wanted to be friends with wouldn’t stop talking about him. Naturally, I did what anyone would do and immediately started listening to his music, just so I’d have something to talk about with her. Somewhere between our Bad Bunny-fuelled “study” sessions and our official flat going-out playlist, I began to understand the hype.
Around this time, Latin music was steadily gaining global traction. It arguably began with Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee’s “Despacito” in 2017, which later featured Justin Bieber as its streams skyrocketed internationally. Bad Bunny, meanwhile, was transitioning from the “King of Latin Trap” into the reggaeton scene. Reggaeton itself originated in Panama during the construction of the Panama Canal, when migrant workers from the West Indies adapted their musical traditions into “reggae en Español.”5 This sound fused with Jamaican dancehall, Puerto Rican underground music, and U.S.hip-hop to create what we now know as reggaeton. Its signature “dem bow” beat and suggestive lyrics also gave rise to “perreo”6, a sexually charged dance style that emerged in San Juan’s infamous nightclub The Noise.
Today, reggaeton has softened considerably from its misogynistic and homophobic roots, as more and more women have center stage. Artists like Karol G, Shakira, and Natti Natasha have shifted the narrative from male objectification to female empowerment. “Perrear”7 is no longer an expectation, but a skilled expression of sexual autonomy. Bad Bunny himself has consistently shown his support for women, feminism, and the queer and trans community. Despite operating within a typically hypermasculine music industry, he challenges gender norms by wearing make-up, nail polish, skirts and dresses—most notably during his 2020 Tonight Show Performance, where he wore a skirt to honour the trans woman Alexa Negrón Luciano who was murdered in Puerto Rico. In the music video for “Yo Perreo Sola”8, which promotes consent and a women’s right to dance without harassment, he appears in full drag as part of his ongoing advocacy for gender inclusivity.
At the end of the day, Bad Bunny’s music brings people together. I was lucky enough to experience this cross- cultural phenomenon first-hand in Sydney, dancing alongside thousands of others who had been moved by his songs, whether they understood the language or not. Aside from a few English-language collaborations, Benito performs almost exclusively in his native tongue— specifically Puerto Rican Spanish, which has historically been looked down upon by other Spanish speakers. Unlike many Latin artists who switch to English to reach wider audiences, Bad Bunny has never released a fully English-language song.
5 Reggae in Spanish
6 Twerking
7 The act of dancing perreo
8 I Twerk Alone
Some of his most powerful and politically charged tracks, such as “LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAii”, addresses issues like gentrification and cultural erasure. He draws parallels between the forced displacement of Native Hawaiians under US colonisation and his fears for Puerto Rico’s future. Across the Americas, many listeners will recognise these anxieties, and hearing the artist both celebrate and mourn his homeland is bound to strike a chord.
We may also have reached a point where anyone willing to publicly denounce global injustices while spreading joy is quickly exalted. Is that such a bad thing? You don’t need to understand the words to be captivated by Bad Bunny’s enthusiasm or feel the rhythms of his music. As Benito and his band tour the world, he carries his message of love and unity—delivered entirely in Spanish—to millions of fans.
In the final song of his show, “DtMF,”9 he reminded us to embrace the people we love and live in the moment— because once they’re gone and moved on, you’ll only be left wishing you had taken more photos. A picture does speak a thousand words after all—no matter the language.
“Debí tirar más f- Gente, los quiero con cojone, los amo Gracias por estar aquí, de verdad
Para mí es bien importante que estén aquí
Cada uno de ustedes significa mucho para mí
Así que vamo pa la foto, vengan p'acá
Métase to el mundo, to el corillo, vamo Zumba”10
9 Debí Tirar Más Fotos – I should’ve take more pictures
10 I should’ve taken more f-
People I love you so much, I adore you
Thank you for being here, truly
It’s so important for me that you all are here
Each and every one of you means so much to me
So come on let’s take a picture, come over here
Everybody get in, the whole crew come on Zumba
The Idea of an ‘Other’
huruhuru ka rere te manu
To some, heritage means nothing beyond the colour of your skin or the spelling of your surname. Not being able to speak the language of your ancestors is forgivable if your family was built on the backs of migrants. There is no standard to uphold if even the people who raised you can’t speak their ‘mother tongue’. I say this primarily thinking of ngā Tāngata Pākehā who are of European descent, whose rangatira hail from Germany or France—they don’t know a lick of the language and that’s acceptable. Although, there can always be exceptions.
But for Tāngata Whenua it’s different.
There’s the idea that if you’re Māori, and you can’t speak the ‘reo’, then you’re ‘plastic’. Some sort of ‘other’. I’ve talked to individuals who degrade themselves when the topic of culture comes up, almost racing before anyone else can beat them to the punch, by cutting off their own poppy heads. It is fair to say, no one should be blamed for the sins of their parents, because parents who chose to educate their children in the tongue of their colonisers haven’t done anything wrong—it’s the result of grandparents and great grandparents being shamed and beaten into silence.
Whina Cooper was responsible for the 1975 Māori Land March and was one of the key figures that helped usher in a new founded strength in kotahitanga Māori, helping underpin movements like the Māori Language revitalisation movement. This started with Kōhanga Reo nearly 50 years ago, which led to te reo Māori being recognised as an official language during 1987.
Some odd 50 years ago is both such a short time and a lifetime ago—I feel as though some people really don’t comprehend that fact. And 50 years is all it took. Some consequences are still trickling down, where Tāngata Whenua are but a stranger to their own language due to a suppression they had no play in.
Yet there’s an idea, a theory proposed by Theodore Newcomb, that says we are drawn to the people we subconsciously believe we will relate to the most. And when proven true, the connections built will be that much closer and more intimate than any mere acquaintance.
So when you’re surrounded by strangers, and long for conversation—who do you gravitate towards first? Those who speak the shared reo Pākehā, or those who speak the language that reminds you of what you have lost? Or perhaps you don’t choose and remain an ‘other’.
The loss of language shouldn’t be a divisive topic. If anything, it should be a moment meant for reflection. Especially in the current climate, where our understanding of connection has become defined by our identity as the whole person who we are, and not what we’ve lost. I understand that too. Knowing who you are gives a sense of security, a place to stand in an at times unreliable world.
Ahakoa kāore ōku toto Māori. Nō Amerika ki te Raki tōku whaea, ā, nō Amerika ki Te Tonga tōku pāpā. He tāne Pāniora ahau. So when I’m choosing who to talk to, I always hesitate.
Be patient with yourself. Understanding your history is important as it still holds relevance. Understand that what has been done is done, and now we merely begin again. Constantly analysing the why will only lead you towards insanity, really. The world, this country, whoever you deem as ‘your’ people, can be far more forgiving than you anticipate.
Make
Alonso Meija-Ball
How do you get over someone wHo was great to you wHen you were togetHer but awful after you broke up? hey hunk unc,
Would you believe it if I said I’ve had a boatful of variations on this one land in the inbox? I’m going to reply to a few of them over the course of the year, but if one of those was yours, please take this advice as universal—not just a one-off.
The thing about breakups—whether it’s a friendship, a romance, a situationship, or even a job or class you really loved—is that once it’s over, it’s easy to slip on the rose-tinted goggles. This is generic advice, sure, but there’s a reason people keep saying it. Let’s break it down a bit.
Right now, you’re dealing with a full 180. You’ve gone from romantic dates, connection, conversation, and probably feeling properly seen and valued by this person, to someone who’s giving you none of that. What you’re struggling to get over isn’t necessarily just the relationship itself—it’s also the feeling of being valued by them. The late-night chats, the skinny dipping at Oriental Bay, the little memories. You’re missing all of that too.
And now those feelings of closeness and belonging have been replaced by them being awful to you. Of course that’s going to mess with your head a bit. Of course it’s going to hurt. That’s normal. Feel it. Have a cry. Chuck on We Live in Time if you need a good film to absolutely fold to.
Now, this Unc won’t pretend to know why you broke up, and he also won’t pretend it matters all that much here. What he will ask is this: what situations are you still putting yourself in where your ex gets to be awful to you?
Hear me out. I’m absolutely not saying you’re at fault for your ex’s behaviour. Not even a little bit. But if you keep finding yourself texting them, asking mutual friends what they’ve said about you, or ending up at parties watching them flirt with someone else, then I’m going to gently suggest you take a breather from those behaviours.
Because you can’t control other people. No point trying. What you can control is how much access they still have to you. You can distance yourself. You can mute or block them on social media—which, by the way, is completely fine. It does not have to be a big dramatic thing. You can stop asking after them. You can focus on yourself instead of keeping one eye on what they’re doing.
And, honestly, you’ve got a pretty clear out here: no matter how good the relationship was when you were together, them treating you badly now is its own kind of answer. A nasty one, sure, but a useful one. They’re showing you something important.
Hunk Unc may have hit the gym, but he’s still here for the people. If uni life has you stressed about flatmate drama, lecturer issues, or whatever is going on in your dating life, Hunk Unc has advice your parents definitely want to hear. Equal parts wisdom and gains.
To submit a question, scan the QR code on the page. If your problem needs a spotter, Hunk Unc might just get back to you.
When you’re in a relationship with someone, you’ve got every reason to put your best foot forward. Most people do. But no one can keep up a version of themselves forever if it isn’t genuine. Eventually the mask slips. And from what you’ve written, it sounds like your ex’s mask is slipping now. Take that seriously. Take it at face value.
Don’t keep pinning all your thinking on the version of them who was sweet, kind, and lovely while they were still getting something from being with you. Look at what’s in front of you now. They’re being awful. And personally, I wouldn’t keep someone in my life who treats me badly, no matter how lovely they once seemed or how much potential the relationship used to have.
So here’s the question I want you to sit with for a bit: do you really want to stay hung up on someone who was only kind to you while they had something to gain?
Because that’s what this behaviour suggests. Kind when you were together, awful once you weren’t. That says plenty.
And if you’re still tangled up in the same social circles, it might be time to make things a bit easier on yourself. Turn the group chat notifications off for a couple of months. Tell your friends you need a bit of space to move on. And maybe ask yourself: why are mutual friends letting this slide? Is this behaviour happening out in the open, or quietly, where it’s easier for people to ignore?
Those questions might not just give you closure about your ex, but about the wider circle around them too. Sometimes a breakup shows you more than one relationship you need to rethink. It can be a good chance to reflect on your friendships as well, and on who actually deserves your energy.
At the start of the year I got asked how you know whether a friendship is good and healthy. And what I said then, in many more words, was this: pay attention to whether people are curious about you, whether they ask questions, and how you feel after spending time with them. I want you to do that over the next few weeks. Work out who leaves you feeling steadier, lighter, more like yourself. Those are your people. Put your energy there, not into a shitty ex.
This advice probably won’t have you get over them overnight. That’d be nice, but sadly that’s not how any of this works. What I do hope is that it helps you start seeing them more clearly, and maybe stops you romanticising someone who isn’t worth the thought.
Surround yourself with good people. Limit the ways your ex can reach you. Stop checking in on what they’re doing. And take their actions at face value.
At the end of the day, you deserve to be treated well by everyone in your life. Don’t keep making room for people who won’t do that.
Kera-la-carte
What: Kerala (South-Indian)
Price: $13.00–$21.00
When: Lunch and dinner, Tue–Sun
Can a curry be profound? Take a friend and find out.
It’s a fact that a hot curry can do wonders on a wet, windy, or otherwise shitty day. The warming gravy—a galaxy of spices and aroma—through which, like planetoids, float tender chunks of meat and vegetables. There are few things that can get you back on your feet as quickly. I’ve already waxed lyrical about the curries at Little Penang, which are a steal. But most curry orders will set your bill above $20 from the outset, and that’s before the inevitable question of roti arises.
However, should you find yourself short on cash and curry, and on the far end of Courtenay Place, there’s a little kitchen that can set you up well. I will preface, to get a good deal here you’ve got to cheese it a little bit. Well… paneer it.
Kera-la-carte is a small, South-Indian restaurant tucked in a few shops down from Kaffee Eis. Their interior has a worn-in chic atmosphere, with beautiful woodwork next to children’s colouring-in pages of Brahma and Vishnu on the wall. It felt like a restaurant with a community.
A FEED FOR F*CK ALL
On the table one over from us were four men who looked like this was their evening plan; their two tables were laden with plates and glasses, of which they kept ordering more while we were there.
I say ‘we’, because you do need an extra person (and their wallet) to make this a good deal. The plan was to split a starter and a main ($13.00 and $18.00) between the two of us, which somehow came to $14.50 per person (inexplicably but helpfully, their prices deviate slowly downwards between looking at their menu online, in the window, and at the table—the same dishes online are each a dollar more). I thought this might be a stretch to fill two people up, but it was worth a try.
We started with the Paneer Pakora, on the basis that they’d be a denser dish than, say, bhaji. The plate itself was very pretty, with six dusty yellow squares and a handful of fried curry leaves alongside, on a shiny dark-green platter. The chickpea batter was lightly spiced with a smokey masala that had notes of charred mustard seeds and turmeric. It was a little powdery but not unpleasantly so, and with an addicting crunch that had me eating all the battered curry leaves too. The paneer itself was more plain, lacking the salt I always expect until I remember it’s not halloumi. Dipped in the sweet mint sauce, they were a nice bite to start with.
Soon after, our Dal Tadka was served, a glorious warm yellow in its white bowl. The bowl itself was well-filled and the accompanying rice was generous, which began to assuage my doubts of being full—both of us ended up scooping a couple platefuls each. The dal’s flavour
was complex and impressive. A fresh, gingery brightness opened the palate, which widened as a fired, smoky depth— similar to the pakora—emerged. This was matched with quiet notes of sweetness from the onion, and a gentle chilli heat that warmed my whole face. All of this fanfare and the undertones swelled together in a rich and creamy, almost pudding-like, yellow lentil gravy.
This meal really surprised me, no less by its depth of flavour as its value. Lentils over rice is always a safe bet if you’re after a full stomach, but even between two this meal did well. Not to say that I couldn’t have eaten the whole bowl myself, but it was still a satisfying dinner to share. Building it out with a plate of pakora always helps too.
The menu here is extensive, so there are plenty of possible variations on this theme. The 8-piece pakkavada vegetable fritters could be a good starter, or their different fried chicken offers, for a few dollars more. Any carnivorous mains quickly push the mid-twenties price range, but the cauliflower Gobi Manchurian or the Mutta Chikkiyathu scrambled eggs are good value too.
Kera-la-carte gets a final bonus point for offering an overwhelming gluten-free and dairy-free menu, as well as equal amounts of vegetarian and vegan meals as meatbased. It’s rare to see so many accessible meals that don’t require substitutions or relegate the vegetarians to a salad, without also being a deep flush, green cleanse, detox realignment that tastes of grass. Just rich, delicious, healthy food that offers a bit of something for everyone to eat.
guy van egmond
critic-at-LARGE
Jackson McCarthy is Salient's Critic-at-Large. His first book of poetry, Portrait, is forthcoming from Auckland University Press later this year.
I Feel the BPM, I Feel the Music
underscores’ U
Obviously I took this job because I have a public humiliation kink, but even I’m embarrassed that I hadn’t heard of underscores, the dubsteptechno-house-hyperpop-punk fusion project of singer-songwriter-producer-mixer-engineer April Gray, except as a feature on oklou’s wintry banger “harvest sky” last year. Well, I’m happy to report that U is an extremely impressive record, largely for just how keen it is to impress us—all the while maintaining its complexity. Gray’s gone and looted all the pop genres long-since thought untouchable and rendered standards of “good” and “bad” taste irrelevant in the face of her tact and skillfulness. I love her handling of song structure: she often moves through the standard verse-chorus-bridge episodes, but explodes them in extended intros, drops, postchoruses, and outros. The music overwhelms its form; it’s exuberant, and as pleasing for us as it is pleased by itself.
“The Peace” threads a killer double-meaning, Gray not wanting “smoke” with the song’s addressee, just to “keep the peace”—only that The Peace is a brand of cigarettes, and there’s that percussive vocoder ostinato keeping the song on-edge as the two share three smokes through its duration. Lead single “Music” goes silly-dumb (“When I’m with you it feels like music”!!) and then rebuilds itself from the ground up in a sudden break after the second chorus. And “Wish U Well” is the closing stunner: with a little R’n’B lilt in the verses, it builds to a magisterial drop around the three-minute mark in which Gray takes the high ground after a breakup: “I can’t go back to you and I know it // And if I’m being honest with myself I don’t want closure / I want to feel the gravity of losing you”. It’s genuinely moving, both emotionally and physically, though I’m not actually crying—I’m too busy gawking.
Is it too soon to call album of the year? Of course it is, Jackson. (At time of writing, the new Robyn album hasn’t yet dropped, so Salient readers will have to wait patiently over the mid-term break to hear this critic weigh in.) Not that I like to do any of that clickbait ranking tier list stuff anyways. But the fact that I even posed such a stupid question to myself probably is the highest endorsement I can give this record. I adore it.
Didn’t Come to Argue
James Blake’s latest album: impressive but a touch underwhelming
It has been a while since the very very brilliant Mark Fisher recommended James Blake’s second album, Overgrown—“Unsure of itself, caught up in all kinds of impasses, yet intermittently fascinating, Overgrown is one more symptom of the 21st century’s identity crisis,” wrote Fisher
in 2013. And there is something about Blake’s style—his fusion of hip-hop, house, and R'n'B in a dark indietronica wash—that, for me, pauses right at the edge of bad taste. It’s a deeply British, metropolitan, “multicultural” sound that at times gives the impression of a posh London kid doing musical anthropology on the black musos he’s been hanging with. If, as Simon Frith once suggested, when we hear most recorded music we imagine the ideal locus of its production (an opera recording evokes the opera house; a dance recording evokes the club), then Blake’s recordings sometimes evoke for me the top-floor sound-proofed spare room of a precocious young man’s decked-out home studio.
Let me be serious now when I say that I don’t mean to condemn Blake to his comfortable upbringing or his university music education— I’ve had both myself; and besides that, an artist deserves the basic respect of being considered on the merit of their work, not their biography. Rather, I’m saying that I think that what Fisher was getting at about Blake—this sense of an “identity crisis” that his music embodies—is in a disjunction between fact and feeling; between, in other words, the various genres and musical languages Blake draws from and the singularity of his bringing them into one work. Blake’s is a voice, a bright baritone that frequents its falsetto, that at once soars and lifts with genuine technique and at the same time is grounded by the bassy, earthy pool of electronics that accompanies it, in a moody contrast of opposites that often reads to me as self-consciously “deep”.
His new album, Trying Times is, like Overgrown, something of a capsule of the indeterminacies and hesitations that populate contemporary life—in love, at work, at home—and inexplicably. I like “Death of Love”, mostly for its Leonard Cohen sample, and then for how it follows in a Cohengone-trap kind of procedure, wherein a number of Cohen’s lyrical themes (death, sleep, faith, love, change) are treated with sleek obliqueness. “If we’re on an island all the time / And it’s yours, and it is mine / It’s death”, sings Blake in a particularly gnomic stanza. But he’s already confessed his lyrical gambit a few lines earlier: “It never seemed so hard / To say what you really mean”. There’s Cohen’s sound, treated as sample; there too are Cohen’s lyrical themes, treated in abstraction. Cohen’s fluency becomes Blake’s inarticulacy.
The album is in fact caught up in feelings of inertia (see “Days Go By”) and longings to be set free (see “I Had a Dream She Took My Hand”) and still it makes more complex the ways that these things overlay each other, the cyclic monotony of working life and the teleological glory of romantic love. Oh, I really quite like the title track, with its refrain in the back-up vocals, “As we go through trying times”, lending real gravity to the more lovey-dovey moments Blake indulges, like “You’re a sight for sore eyes / You’re the life force”. Throughout the album, in fact, Blake comes across as quite straightforwardly romantic, as in the proposal scenery of “Rest of Your Life”—but even that track is bolstered
by the fade-in of a 2-step house beat halfway through. If Trying Times were a book of poetry it would be a bore, so we can thank our lucky stars that there’s a musician of Blake’s calibre behind it, tinkering with and deepening the words’ apparent simplicity with his magpie’s eye for musical quirks.
What I’m trying to stress here is the eclecticism of Blake’s style, an eclecticism which makes its only real misstep, in my view, on the Dave feature “Doesn’t Just Happen”. A spliced cello ostinato combines with a baby voice ad-libbing “Ready? Start!”—already a little naff—but then comes Dave’s verse: “ My girlfriend hates me / Deep down, maybe I do too.” Deep! But weirdly, I felt myself half-wishing that the rest of the album solicited such a reaction. I wanted something a little edgier or weirder or even more aesthetically offensive, I guess. But then again, maybe I should have taken at face value the claim Blake makes on track six, a sweet compound time duet with Monica Martin: “I flew, but that was in the past / [...] I didn’t come here / Didn’t come to argue”.
want to get in touch, tip me off, or rage at me electronically?
jackson@salient.org.nz
Holly Rowsell
Blue Moon (2025) - $20 (eek!) dir. Richard Linklater, USA
What to watch on Welly’s local streaming service
In the wake of this year's Academy Awards, I’m reviewing some Oscar winning—and nominated—films available to rent on Arovision. Split the cost with your friends, flatmates, or film-bros (maybe a few more than usual… there’s some pricey picks in our lineup this week!) and debate amongst yourselves whether those trophies were rightly awarded. Go to ondemand.arovideo.co.nz and get watching!
Agent (2025) - $20
Winner of Best International Feature
Nominations for Best Picture, Director, Original Screenplay, Actress, Supporting Actress (x2), and Supporting Actor (but not Casting… go figure).
I saw this one last year when it screened at NZIFF. It won the Grand Prix at Cannes, so I knew it would be good. As a child of divorce who grew up with one younger sister and a previously complex relationship with her father, this was a fucking doozy. The film follows sisters Nora and Agnes after the death of their mother, when their long absent filmmaker father (played by Stellan Skarsgaard) resurfaces. He has written a new film for Nora, an actor, to star in. It’s an eerily accurate depiction of her personality and life, despite his removal from it.
This is such a beautiful film. Beautiful to look at, beautiful depiction of family dynamics, beautiful beautiful beautiful. Stellar performances from everyone—all four key cast members were nominated… but none took the win. TWO Best Supporting Actress noms and EITHER were a better pick than Amy Madigan… but whatever, I’m not salty or anything. This film had me crying in my little pink Vitz for ten minutes before I could pull out of the car park. My review? Fully deserving of its Oscar win.
“Apparently having a movie director for a father is not as fun as Francesca Scorsese’s Instagram account makes it seem” — superpulse, Letterboxd “squeak” — davidlsims, Letterboxd
Nominations for Best Original Screenplay and International
“They do a MCU-style Stuart Little name drop in this” — isaacgreig006, Letterboxd
Nominations for Best Actor and Original Screenplay
This is a dialogue heavy film set in 1943 New York, which takes place almost entirely in one bar. Ethan Hawke gives an Oscar-worthy performance in his portrayal of famous American songwriter Lorenz Hart, who is drinking alone (well, with the bartender) on the opening night of his ex-musicalcollaborator’s new show Oklahoma! He has allegedly recovered from the alcoholism that sank his career… though keeps ordering “just one more,” as the film progresses. He is hung up on a beautiful young Yale student and can’t stop talking about her.
The score is primarily diegetic, as a young soldier/pianist plays some of Hart’s more famous songs from the corner of the bar. The conversations are incredibly witty, though this movie will still make your heart ache—in typical Linklater style. We watch helplessly as a man desperately denies that he is no longer relevant, and no woman (or man—Hawke plays a very bisexual Hart) is in love with him. I love love love this film (it's in my Letterboxd top four) but this is the kind of movie some chastise for “nothing happening.” Talking happens—lots of it—and that's plenty for me.
“Need an entire movie about the leg” — flynnslicker, Letterboxd
Nominations for Best Picture, Actor, International Feature Film, and Casting
Awesome. This movie really raised my heartrate. Set in 1977 Brazil, it follows Wagner Moura’s character Armano as he attempts to flee persecution in a time of military dictatorship. It takes place during the chaotic week of carnival celebrations when he is housed by a badass anarcho-communist grandma and assumes a new identity. Before getting out of dodge, Armano (now Marcelo) is desperate to find a document that proves his dead mother existed.
This movie had me crying (shocker), but also laughing a lot! The carnival setting offers some incredible set and costume design. The soundtrack is banger after banger. The storyline is non-linear, jumping between Armano’s 1977 life and a present-day student listening to his covertly-recorded testimony. It takes such an interesting approach to presenting the climax of a story. Moura gives an incredible performance, as does every other actor in the film. An astonishing depiction of political resistance.
Feature Film
I’m running over word count, so I’ll just say this—It Was Just an Accident offers the strongest ending to a film released last year. Five stars. Director Jafar Panahi faced political persecution for making this, so honour his efforts and go watch it. I think this film is best enjoyed if you go in blind.
Honorable mentions
The big dogs of Best Picture contention, Sinners and One Battle After Another, are also available to rent on Arovision for $8 a pop. In the end, OBAA won this battle and took home the Oscar for Best Picture. It also snagged the most trophies of the night with six awards overall. Sinners came out with four, though it made history as the most Oscar nominated movie ever. While I’ll never forgive how he treated Fiona Apple, PTA is my favourite director and I think these wins were a long time coming. Best Picture easily could have gone either way, though.
Sentimental Value (2025) - $8 dir. Joachim Trier, Norway
It Was Just an Accident (2025) - $15 (minor eek!) dir. Jafar Panahi, Iran
The Secret
(eek!) dir. Kleber Mendonça Filho, Brazil
SALIENT EXPLICIT CONTENT ADVISORY
Oh Yes, Oh No is where sex stories go to be judged. Was it hot? Was it a disaster?
The time I lost my virginity was more of a bumpy rollercoaster than the actual sex was. I was at a house party and after catching up with all my mates I bumped into a girl hugging the wall sipping a drink slow enough that I’m sure it evaporated before they finished it all. We got to talking and hit it off pretty well. Oh Yes
We decided to go on a walk and headed down to a nearby beach which was super romantic, pretending we were each just super confident and not desperately hurling increasingly obvious hints at each other, before she slipped down a dune and scraped her leg on a rock. Oh No
We went back to the party and went to my car. Oh Yes. Upon folding down the back seats of my car I found I was woefully underprepared and had not cleaned my car in the slightest. Oh No. That wasn’t enough to stop us however and we continued fooling around as best as we knew how to do for the first time, things kept heating up and she finally asked if I had a condom. Oh Yes
Checking my glovebox, and then even more desperately in my wallet, I realised I was even more woefully unprepared than I had thought. Oh No. After much deliberation interrupted by wandering hands and lips, I finally decided that I would simply swallow my shame and ask my friend inside if he had a condom. Much to my equal parts joy and embarrassment, he said yes with a shiteating grin I would see again the next morning during a hungover interrogation of last night’s events. Regardless, I had what I needed. Oh Yes
The rest of the night followed with many more repeats of oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Moral of the story? If you’re going to be a hormonal teenager looking to lose your virginity, maybe don’t be a total idiot and prepare for it. Skip yourself the Oh No moments.
submitted by anonmous
I used to hookup with a 25yr old in my first year when I was home for holidays. I got back to Joan Steven's hall and thought I had a uti. Turns out I had gonorrhoea and when I told him to get tested he said I was the only person he had slept with since his last test, except he was the last person I had slept with since my last test so I know he's lying. Getting a needle put in my ass after a tutorial was not on my first year bingo card. submitted by anonmous
in the middle of last year i was on the apps and i matched with this british guy who was only gonna be in the country for a few months. anyway, i invite this guy out to jj murphy’s for a jug to give him that proper wellington uni experience, it goes well, we go back to my house and almost immediately when my door shuts the activities begin. he gives me some half assed head, we fuck for like 30 seconds because he cums sooo fast, didn’t even offer to wear a condom cause ‘he hates how they feel.’ whatever, i have an iud anyway and im kind of drunk so i dont really care. we proceed to have sex 4 other times that night (unprotected) and he leaves my house at 4am.
fast forward 3 days later: i go on a date with another guy who i am immediately enamoured by, hook up with him on this date too (important detail), forget about the british man until a week later when he audio calls me in instagram while i am lathering myself up with scabies cream (the joys of flatting) to inform me that he has tested positive for chlamydia, and that i should go and get tested too. i have to inform this other guy that he should do scabies treatment too, and also test himself for chlamydia all in the same day. i’ve never been more embarrassed in my life, and the takeaway from this story is don’t have sex with british people, and also get tested.
submitted by anonmous
63 Add sound in postproduction.
65 Multiple men named Ron.
67 On the sheltered side of a ship.
68 Sense or perception.
69 cots phrase meaning “take a look”.
73 Distinct smell.
76 Scots for “no”.
77 Throwing or casting about.
78 Cardinal direction where sunrise occurs.
80 Like the “r” in “flora,” phonetically.
82 Actor Ed with a notably gravelly voice.
83 Like some cliff edges.
85 Traditional draped garments worn by many women from South Asia.
86 Desiderius ________, a Dutch humanist scholar from the Northern Renaissance
88 Kept under control outdoors.
91 Even more preferable.
94 Pilot in a speed contest.
95 With maximum urgency, in brief.
99 Early data-analysis step, for short.
100 Sensor whose resistance changes with light, for short.
101 A small note or voucher, a friendly conversation, or an immature young person
103 Young fellow, informally.
105 Woman’s name meaning “noble”.
106 Japanese city on Honshu’s Pacific coast.
108 Performer known for playing distinctive types.
111 Second option in “take it ___”.
112 One settled into the stalls for Puccini.
113 Problem with a dry ballpoint.
114 Movement of soil down a hillside.
115 Twist that can develop in drying wood.
116 United Services Automobile Association, abbreviated.
117 Irish region known for wild Atlantic shores.
118 Heroine of Tennyson’s “Idylls of the King”.
119 A brand name for the American multinational oil and gas company, ExxonMobil.
120 Warm woolen headgear, Scots-style.
121 Spots, as birds through binoculars.
29 Abbreviation meaning
30 Rendered pig fat used historically in cooking
DOWN
1 Given name that can shorten to Tani.
2 Superhero who shrinks to insect size.
3 “Idea,” in French.
4 Disinfectant used to clean lab benches.
5 Forested plane in Dungeons & Dragons
6 A title used by various communities in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu.
8 Keeps one’s own bench in the park.
9 Chambers where blood first enters the heart.
10 Dog’s call in a comic strip.
11 Capable of carrying out a task.
12 Coastal inlet.
13 Use repeated initial sounds.
14 Great Northern Diver known for haunting lake calls.
15 Gift recipients.
16 Happening during play.
17 Figure often shown with horns.
21 Medications that boost serotonin levels.
24 Fashion magazine.
27 One who breeds or keeps animals.
28 Performance recorded on stage.
32 River through eastern France.
35 Abbreviation (plural) for the American Society of Animal Science
37 Swell outward.
39 More unpleasant.
40 Drained downward like storm water.
42 An abbreviation for several words, most commonly "instant" or "institute".
43 "Coffee ___?"
44 Ship supports used to lower boats
45 Queen in the “Star Wars” prequels.
46 Ancient sighthounds bred for desert hunting.
48 Director Lee.
50 French name meaning “Stephen”.
51 Pinkish, like a spoonbill.
53 Plastic wrap brand.
56 Margarines.
57 _____-Danlos Syndromes (EDS) are a group of inherited connective tissue disorders.
60 Scheme meant to cheat someone.
62 Compliment, often to gain favor.
64 Surname of Elizabeth in “Pride and Prejudice”.
5 Old Scottish term for barley meadows; think ground use near waterways.
9 Enduring horse breed originating on the Arabian Peninsula, used historically in desert terrain.
13 German-based supermarket with about 2,500 stores in the U.S.
17 Describing soil or terrain composed of loose mineral grains and quick drainage after rain.
18 Deli slice that shrinks and stiffens slightly once cooked, nicknamed.
19 Large brass instrument.
20 Aquatic birds of the genus Gavia breeding on northern lakes.
22 Small stakes that start the betting cycle.
23 Insect that metamorphoses from caterpillar to winged adult.
25 Pines or tree species that attain significant height in forest succession.
26 A single peak period in a species’ lifecycle (e.g., breeding season) metaphorically.
28 Term meaning “in a straight line”.
66 Those said to foresee events.
70 Tied to getting older.
71 Joe who managed the Yankees.
72 Māori verb meaning to put into, gather into, place into.
74 Get wrong, as spoken words.
75 Refers to wings or any wing-like structure in an organism.
79 Laugh extremely hard.
81 Earth goddess in Wagner’s “Ring” cycle.
84 Slaughters, or bungles badly.
87 Olympic abbreviation for Syria.
89 Top level of minorleague baseball club.
90 Whites of the eyes.
91 Kisses, in Spanish.
92 Gertrude who first swam the English Channel among women.
93 Astringent plant polyphenol in bark and leaves.
94 Grass genus known as hair-grass.
31 Relating to wings (from Latin ala) — appropriate for birds and aviation in nature.
32 Small river-island, typically found in a slowmoving watercourse.
33 Label behind many big sound waves.
34 Grandmother figure.
36 Shape of many evergreen leaves, narrow and adapted for dry or cold habitats.
38 Vast habitats or “ecosystems” each with their own patterns of life.
41 Spanish for “hitman”.
43 Slice of time with a characteristic feel.
44 Water-brand name.
47 Eats quickly and greedily.
49 More stable or balanced.
52 Gathers or builds up.
54 Portable shelter used by field ecologists during biodiversity surveys.
55 Evenly matched.
58 Abbrev. for village.
59 Faint sign or small amount.
61 A traditional dish made from a mixture of ground, deboned freshwater fish like carp, whitefish, or pike.
96 Humor that criticizes through exaggeration.
97 Man of striking good looks.
98 Leaves a car in a space.
102 Marx brother with the horn and harp.
104 People from Denmark.
107 Fayed who died with Princess Diana.
108 Abbreviation for Certified Public Accountants.
109 “Thing,” in Italian.
110 Central part, as of an apple.
112 Be in debt.
1 Church recess
5 Word that precedes and rhymes with "suit"
9 "The Mandalorian" actor Weathers
13 Te Herenga Waka's student association abbr.
15 ___'acte (intermission)
16 a genus of flowering plants in the family Oleaceae 17 "With the jawbone of ___ ..."
checking out a situation before taking action, often used in the military
Bother
51 Fu-___ (legendary Chinese sage)
52 Suffix with ether or arbor
53 Cash dispenser
54 Merchandise ID
56 describes something that conforms to a fixed and oversimplified idea about a group or type of person, thing, or attribute
60 Gorge
62 Black Friday event
63 2020 Olympics host
64 Mine extractions
65 "___-friendly"
66 Clean with a broom
67 To drink before going to another event/bar
68 a slang term for marijuana, and it is a shortened form of sinsemilla, a high-potency cannabis grown without seeds.
69 Abbreviation for Arrears, found on payslips
1 Sailor's "Stop!"
2 Smaller and weaker
3 a 1920 song by George Gershwin, refrencing a river
4 Latin 101 verb
5 Make the focus of one's attention
6 Spells out the word for a single thing, then the start of ‘country’
7 "Red" Holy Roman emperor 8 Fads
9 Pixar film set in Mexico
10 Words you’d see on a French menu meaning “with orange” 11 Short for “rebel”
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ORBITALPATH SOLARSYSTEM SPACESCRAFT ROCKETSHIP DARKMATTER ASTRONAUT TELESCOPE
STARFIELD COMETTAIL BLACKHOLE SUPERNOVA DWARFSTAR COSMONAUT COSMICRAY
mini tea time
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SATELLITE EXOPLANET ASTRONOMY ASTEROID GALAXY NEBULA AURORA
$67(52,' *$/$;< 1(%8/$ $8525$
If you have a story, confession, or experience you’d like to share—whether it’s an anonymous crush, workplace drama, or something else entirely—you may submit it using the QR code below.
&UHDWHGXVLQJWKH:RUG6HDUFK*HQHUDWRURQ
My friend and I had this really weird homoerotic relationship where we were both in love with each other for months last year. I finally said something about it around mock exam time, but then she had to leave mid conversation. We messaged about it a little but not much, and then the whole next week I ignored her. She basically ended up telling me that she just got confused and that she didn’t like me because I was so bad at communicating. This whole time she was sleeping with other people and telling me about her sex life. She is coming to visit me in welly soon.
Welcome to the puzzle page from Puzzhead, your resident Puzzler.
These puzzles are provided to be fun and challenging. The Salient team and our contributors aim for accuracy, but occasional errors may occur. If you notice an error, you may write to editor@salient.org.nz. Please note that our puzzlers and contributors are doing their best, and none are professionals or working on these puzzles full time. For the word find, words may appear diagonally and backwards. To access solutions for the crosswords and connections puzzles, scan the QR code next to Puzzhead.
To solve a Set Square, use arithmetic and logical reasoning. You are given a grid containing six sums: three reading across and three reading down. The arithmetic operations (division, multiplication, addition, and subtraction) are shown between the grid spaces. Place each of the numbers 1 to 9 exactly once into the grid so that all six sums are correct. Note that calculations are carried out in left-to-right order, not according to BEDMAS.
To solve connections, group the sixteen words into four sets of four based on a shared connection. Each word belongs in only one group. Continue until all four groups are identified. On our website, the groupings are uploaded one at a time, so if you get stuck, you can view the answer for a single connection without revealing the full solution.
To solve Word Wheels, form words of four letters or more using the letters in the nine-letter wheel. Every word must include the central letter. Each letter may be used only as many times as it appears in the wheel. The aim is to find as many valid words as possible from the target word list, including the nineletter word that uses all the letters.
aries
Anticipate feeling burnt out by the end of the week, stock up on Panadol, get some crispy M&M’s, and happy birthday (maybe an early one, maybe this week).
Do: real, doctor, cork
necessary, channel, fact
This week, I want you to forgo perfection. Get that ideal out of your mind and instead focus on the here and now.
cook, note, pizza
regret, sort, library
sagittarius
You’re going to over commit this week. Don’t. Pull out of what you need, and look after yourself. You’re no good to anyone if you’re too busy to be present.
Do: actor, friction, shiny
cook, guarded, title
It’s time to lock in. You’ve been putting off your readings—whether for classes, work or something else. Lock in, improve yourself, it’s go time.
Do: practice, diligence, verdant
flippant, tin, sardines
Start a skincare routine this week dawg. Buy some face masks, take a bath (or take a stool into the shower), self care. Make it sexy.
This week I want you to actively listen to other people's perspectives; take it in, think about what they’re saying, then respond. You can do this, get those ears out and practice listening without responding.
Do: immerse, match, constitute
trip, ignore, shoes
Do:
Don’t:
Don’t:
Don’t:
Don’t:
Do: spend, sour, volatile Don’t: act, belief, lacking
Don’t:
Strange travellers from distant constellations have beamed you up to the Mothership to deliver some good news and hard truths. Consider the gravity of their words.
libra
Consistent might be your middle name, but it’s okay to be tired. You’ve been so dependable this year, it is time to rest for a week and recharge.
Do: trail, food, channel
weep, wren, enrage
gemini cancer
This week is the week to open up your sex life—try something new, you’ll probably like it.
Do: cycle, trousers, group sex
ducks, scale, knee
scorpio
Pump the breaks on life and rest. You’ve been working too hard, you’re actively burning out. Cancel all your plans, get your flatmates to cook you dinner. Strip it back this week.
This is the week for a new hobby—I want you to try something you’ve never tried before. Options include: rockclimbing, knitting, or doing the Salient crossword.
Do: alight, likeable, regret
abashed, field, teeny
aquarius pisces
It’s time to buy a motorbike. Or a moped. You don’t like public transport (though you appreciate its concept), and they’re cheap to fuel. Trust, you’ll have fun.
Do: acquire, construct, park Don’t: arid, own, fluttering
Ignore your phone this week. Lock in on study, and don’t worry about the group chats. You will be missed— but you will be better off after having a rest.
Do: abstracted, possible, enormous
Don’t: sweat, door, bread
March 21April 19
Don’t:
Do: hydrate, tangy, elated Don’t: form, insult, spell
Don’t:
Don’t:
