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Issue 5, 2018

Issue 05 Volume 81: Pills and Thrills



  • Opioid Fentanyl Found in NZ

  • Ed Sheeran Mayor of Dunedin

  • Tertiary Music Schools Face Restructuring

  • Balls > Compassion: The Australian Way

  • Eye On Exec

  • Ardern’s New Zealand

  • Nursing Strikes

  • Residential Advisors Feel Ill-Prepared as VUW Reduces Training

  • Updates on Kylie Jenner’s Baby

  • VUW Responds to Printing Complaints

  • CubaDupa Ruins Wellington’s Smoko Break

  • Clashes Between Protesters and Police at Petroleum Protest

  • Nexus Mag Googles “Nexus”, Rebrands

  • Features

  • Funny Business: A Week in Wellington’s Dank Comedy Scene

    Sitting outside Fringe Bar on a Sunday afternoon can be a grim affair. The tightly drawn, forlorn faces of the daytime pokie-players are a sight to behold as they shuffle in, slow and dejected, about to pour their time, money, and souls into machines that give them blinking lights and broken dreams in return. There […]


  • How to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse

    It has to happen at some point. Half a decade of terrible special effect films and horror literature can’t be wrong. It’s written in the stars and on our paperbacks. One day, a virus will spread and turn half the population of Earth into man-eating killer zombies. Rip out this handy instructional article and keep […]


  • The New Drug on the Block

    The opioid crisis is a real thing. Fentanyl was found in New Zealand. Let’s talk about what this means and why it matters. Prescription pain relievers, the most common of which are methadone, oxycodone (such as OxyContin), and hydrocodone (such as Vicodin), are all opioids. The drugs we hear and talk about the most are […]


  • Funny Business: A Week in Wellington’s Dank Comedy Scene

    Sitting outside Fringe Bar on a Sunday afternoon can be a grim affair. The tightly drawn, forlorn faces of the daytime pokie-players are a sight to behold as they shuffle in, slow and dejected, about to pour their time, money, and souls into machines that give them blinking lights and broken dreams in return. There […]


  • How to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse

    It has to happen at some point. Half a decade of terrible special effect films and horror literature can’t be wrong. It’s written in the stars and on our paperbacks. One day, a virus will spread and turn half the population of Earth into man-eating killer zombies. Rip out this handy instructional article and keep […]


  • The New Drug on the Block

    The opioid crisis is a real thing. Fentanyl was found in New Zealand. Let’s talk about what this means and why it matters. Prescription pain relievers, the most common of which are methadone, oxycodone (such as OxyContin), and hydrocodone (such as Vicodin), are all opioids. The drugs we hear and talk about the most are […]


  • Arts and Science

  • Te Hā Tangata: The Breath of the People


    Te Hā Tangata: The Breath of the People is part of the Human Library, an international project that aims “to challenge prejudice and discrimination by creating relationships and connections”. With the Human Library, “the books are the people and reading is a conversation”, and Te Hā Tangata: The Breath of the People is a collection of transcripts from the recording sessions held at the Wellington Library by ten people who have been, or are still currently, homeless.

    Those who contributed with their personal experiences did so to challenge the stigma and judgement people have towards homelessness, mental illness, and addiction, as well as express their creativity and prowess as writers and storytellers.

    Their retelling of childhood abuse, addiction, discrimination, the failures of the foster care and justice systems, and life on the streets, are harrowing, heartwarming, and powerful. But you feel welcomed and privileged to be granted an insight into their lives, as they have shared their most private and darkest moments, but also their moments of triumph, friendship, and love.

    The book also records the reactions and thoughts of the coordinators of the project, as well as the students and volunteers who attended the speaking sessions, who express the profound and immense impact that the project has had on their lives and their worldview.

    Te Hā Tangata: The Breath of the People is a fantastic collection of personal stories, as it opens your eyes to the reality of homelessness, the systematic problems in our society that contribute to it, and how we all can help.

    They are not people to avoid your gaze and walk away from. They are Robert, Shannon, Papa Smurf, Shomilla, Bruce, Verne, Sharron, Manu, Ngaire, and James.


  • Phoney Love, Lucy Roche

    When we laugh in a comedy show, we laugh hard at those comics that can point out that punchline sitting just out of reach, but we laugh hardest at the comics who point those punchlines out with a voice that is totally their own. Phoney Love has a touch of the former, however, its strength lies with the latter, in the character (or caricature) that Lucy Roche brings on stage.

    Phoney Love is about dating on Tinder in the Modern World. You’d be forgiven for thinking that this seems like a topic that most audiences would’ve figured out for themselves. Roche addresses this herself, referring to her set as “the current most hack topic in comedy”. While the self-awareness/deprecation doesn’t do the work Roche might hope it does in getting Phoney Love’s material off of the ground, it does open the door to allow her persona to come through. And therein lies the strength of the set. Don’t get me wrong, there are some great jokes throughout (the statistically-sound approach of asking 100 women “do you do anal” stands out) but these jokes are sprinkled through the audience, rather than giving them a good, heavy dusting. Again, that isn’t to say the material is necessarily bad – just that the subject matter itself is a bit flat. In this particular show, there’s more persona here than storyteller.

    This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as Roche’s persona is undeniably captivating. There’s a point about midway, where Roche describes her show (in her characteristic breathy drawl) as “bitching about men for 60 minutes and then hoping a line will of them will form afterwards, asking for her number”. And for the most part, she nails that pitch. Roche herself – all of 5’ nothing – stands during the set dressed in a trim black circle skirt, one Chuck Taylor tucked behind the other, clutching the mic, swaying from side to side. It would be hard not to imagine some fluttering eyelids or thumb sucking mixed in there somewhere, and I have no doubt that this persona is intentional. It is this coquettish first impression which makes lines like “if you stick your dick far enough down my throat you’ll eventually touch my heart,” wallop the audience. She is at her best when she skirts back and forth between the line of sex positivity and pushing the societal standards of indecency, and she’s even better if she does it quickly enough that the audience is one step behind. But unfortunately, there’s just not enough of that in this in this show.

    Lucy Roche will return to Wellington for the Wellington Comedy Festival in

    Young Dumb & Full Of Comedy. May 1st – 5th.


  • How Should a Person Be?


    We rarely get a look into each other’s inner worlds. Sheila Heti attempts to change this in her 2010 semi-autobiographical novel How Should a Person Be? by putting a fictionalised version of her own complicated consciousness on display. Heti combines real emails and transcribed conversations with fiction, to immerse the reader into the inner world of Sheila, a young, recently divorced writer desperately trying to finish (or even just start) a play she has been commissioned to write. In order to write the play, or perhaps to distract herself from it, Sheila travels to New York and Miami and throws herself into a manic relationship, all the while obsessing over the titular question.

    Unsurprisingly, Sheila does not come up with a definitive answer. Instead, there are moments when she begins to doubt that she is any kind of person at all. At one point, Sheila confesses that “When I strip away my dreams, what I imagine to be my potential, all the things I haven’t said… I see that I’ve done as little as anyone else in this world to deserve the grand moniker I”.

    For Sheila, this self-doubt is amplified by the nature of her work as a female writer, as the legitimacy of her art is constantly called in question by those in the literary world and wider society. Heti’s exploration of the gendered aspects of Sheila’s self-doubt helps give the novel’s musings a political backbone.

    Overall, I found How Should A Person Be? a brave book. While some critics have faulted Heti’s novel for being self-absorbed and narcissistic, I respected the perceptiveness and wit in her analysis of the flawed mind. By putting a manic, compulsive, and wild consciousness on display, Heti lets the reader know that our own messy minds are not so strange after all.


  • All My Favourite Places are Closing Down

    I feel like I am always watching all my most familiar and favourite places closing down. I feel this acutely when I visit Fiona Connor’s exhibition Closed Down Clubs and Monochromes at Hopkinson Mossman. The part of the exhibition that half its title is taken from, the closed down clubs, is a series of vacated doors. I do not recognise the doors themselves— they vary in texture, shape, form— but the familiarity lies in the state of closure.

    The four sets of doors that occupy the centre of the gallery have been replicated from various closed American establishments: restaurants, clubs, an American Apparel store. Connor has not removed these doors from their original environments, instead meticulously recreating them in her studio, taking care to imitate the closure notices, signs from failed health and safety checks, and that layer of grime that signals that a premises has been vacated for a short while. These resulting replicas speak to a very specific moment in time.

    A gallery context has a tendency to halt the ephemeral. Whereas natural elements would normally continue to erode an object, the responsibility of the gallery is faithful preservation. I didn’t attempt to, but I imagine that in Hopkinson Mossman, Connor’s doors can’t be touched; can’t pull my finger through the thick layer of dust, paste a new poster, try to open them. However, there is still a version of the doors that these things can be enacted on, the “authentic” originals. They are susceptible to all the normal and real things of urban life and deterioration, and then also, the undoing of this. Decomposition and recomposition. With time, the original closed doors, and the past establishments that were shut with them, will undoubtedly open again; the gallery replicas still sealed, lips keeping a good secret. For those doors in the real world, the disinterested future hurtles towards them; and Connor’s versions become less of facsimiles, and more of things themselves.

    These things, in themselves, can be a record of our changing communities. Transformation in a city is a seeping thing. The nature of this transformation is that everything new also erases. We can remember past places in histories shared by word of mouth, and expired listings somewhere on the internet, but for places that were never destined to stay long, opened with optimism, they are forgotten easily. It’s harder to pinpoint what has changed in a community if you cannot remember what was there before, and for those who can influence patterns of gentrification, it’s easier to pretend that nothing is happening if it is made invisible in real time. Connor’s sculptural works focus on America, but the economic, political, and technological conflicts that often force their end, noted in Hopkinson Mossman’s exhibition essay, are also relevant here. Recently, the confirmation of the closure of the Newtown PostShop has local business owners, who rely on the PostShop, concerned about their own fates. This is what Connor’s work makes me think about: the traces of human existence in our built environment, our precarious social geographies, the often intangible characteristics of these things. Local services shut, and suburbs shrink, and the city swells sickeningly, and the city sucks everything into a homogenised zone, and one closed door will usually not be the only one.

    Closed Down Clubs and Monochromes is on at Hopkinson Mossman until 14 April.

    Level 2, 22 Garrett Street, Te Aro


  • Anthonie Tonnon Interview

    J: Tell me a little bit about how the last couple of years have gone between the two records?

    A: Even before Successor I’ve been kinda working towards this way of working where I am kind of touring and recording and writing as a sort of integrated process. I mean, they’re all kind of separate jobs but they feed each other in an interesting way, and they can also hinder each other if you don’t do them in the right way too [laughs]. I was experimenting with things like crowd participation and also trying to develop a better sense of sonic aesthetics by picking up things like guitar pedals and that kinda stuff. That kept informing the record too – Successor took a really long time because I’d keep coming back from tours and go, “oh actually I can play this song better now!”

    J: Yeah I mean, it seems like a fluid process, and I noticed that obviously on the new EP you’ve revised a track from Successor (“Railway Lines”), that’s in line with that, right? Sometimes these compositions take different forms over time dependent on instrumentation and live experimentation, right?

    A: Totally. I mean, I try not to place a value on a song when its finished and say “I’ve finished the song, I’ve put it on record and now I will value it”. When you do that, a couple of things happen. One of them being that you’re never happy – it takes a long time to finish a song and get it up to being ready to release. You’re constantly making music but if you only value finished songs, you’ve spent all your time feeling miserable. Also, just treating songs a little bit more like gardening or something – you put something in a pot and it starts to grow, and then in winter you’ll get lemons from a lemon tree but you won’t get lemons in summer. A song like “Railway Lines”… even when a song is released, I still change it and still use it because if you’re gonna release a song then you know that the songwriting has worked and it’s tight so you can use that song to experiment with how you’re playing it and a different way of arranging it, because you know that the songwriting’s not a problem so you can experiment with other variables on it.

    J: I got that impression, the revised arrangement has this cool skeletal vibe to it – the tracked drums and that aye. It’s super interesting to compare the two recordings, I suppose the technology necessitates the extent to which you can explore different parts of the arrangement.

    A: It’s also a matter of saying that I only put in as much live as I can be in control of in the moment. Like, I could put in more, but then it would get into the sort of territory where I was just pushing the buttons and the song was playing.  And there maybe are times where I’m pushing a button, but I try to express that physically, or try to make that the best pushing of a button that I can [laughs]. The important thing is that it feels organic, and it’s done in a way where everything could fall apart – like, you need as much concentration as you would if you were playing a complicated instrument (like a piano) to make all this stuff work. To keep it manageable, and to keep to a template that I could believably play as one human, the arrangements to tend to take on a skeletal structure. I guess with the band shows, we have a chance to expand those a little bit, because you’ve got three musicians we can start doing some of the other things… It’s an interesting challenge.

    J: Yeah man, I suppose that was my next question. With a view to these live shows, what can an audience member expect? Is there a mix of how you would perform the arrangements solo, with a bit of fleshing out from the band, or more one than the other?

    A:  I mean, it’s not gonna be band-y. There might be some band-y moments, but I’m trying to throw out the whole structure and then rebuild it in a different way, which is essentially what I had to do with my solo shows. I’ve worked out how to play this music, piece-by-piece over a few years, and taking the band to that has been challenging but it’s been kind of exciting as well. It’s very different to a normal band show – there’s a lot of times where the band is dealing with electronic things they’ve gotta fiddle with, and there are some times where they’re doing normal drummer or bass player things, but there’s some times where they’ve got their hands free and we’ve gotta start worrying about choreographing the band – if you’ve got free hands, what else can you use them for? Maybe if you don’t have to do anything you shouldn’t pretend to do something, or you shouldn’t play a bass line that’s unnecessary. Maybe instead you should be turning on the smoke machine or fiddling with the laser or something like that [laughs]. So I’m just trying to think that you’ve got three or four band members, you’ve just got staff – you’ve got humans that can do anything. It no longer has to be playing every bit of the music, it’s controlling the music and delving into other things, like movement or lighting or anything kind of theatrical.

    J: I do like that approach. I think there’s often a bit of a trap that maybe electronic musicians fall into, where they become to static or glued to their equipment and forget that a vital facet of visceral live performance is that visual expectation. Can you afford to stand still? Like, I suppose you should be presenting yourself in a manner which befits the music you’re playing right?

    A: Yeah, I mean it’s an interesting debate. I think that music is in such a state of flux at the moment, it’s happening so fast, it’s hard to say. I guess slightly older generation musicians say they don’t wanna see a band that presses play on something and karaokes to their music. I’m trying to find somewhere in the middle where I’m not trying to tell a lie about what we are and aren’t doing, but I’m also trying to use the opportunities that electronic music gives to make the shows much bigger than what the old band show was like anyway. But then the other school of thought is that a lot of young people who like electronic music don’t kinda care? They don’t need to necessarily see their favourite artist pressing a whole lot of buttons or being stressed out on stage to believe it’s real. For me, I kind of need to feel like a musician as an instrumentalist. Everybody on stage is an instrumentalist and they’re playing music with musicianship, whatever the technology is.

    J: It’s such a millennial thing, right? With all this new technology, how do we make that seem authentic or credible as instrumentalists.

    A: Right! It was an existential thing for me because its like, I think you’ve gotta be playing it. But I wonder if the young musicians wonder if we’re just wasting time by trying to play it… [laughs].

    J: Totally, it’s a super interesting debate in that respect.

    A: I mean at the same time, I saw a big [message] chain from some musicians I know… and somebody pointed out that they hate it when they see electronic acts “bandify” their songs. You have someone who releases this great record which is all made on Ableton, and then they get a four-piece band and play it like they’re Rolling Stones songs [laughs]. So you can ruin songs like that too, you know.

    J: [laughs] It seems like a tightrope act, where you’re trying to make as many people happy as you can – satisfy the masses right.

    A: I guess whatever you do, its theatre. It’s a performing art, and that’s a thing that I’m interested in. I think that what you can do is so much more varied and diverse than what it used to be, where, to some degree, everybody had to be holding down a beat on their particular instrument, but they didn’t have so much room to do anything else. Now, I feel like it’s wide open, and I think performance is the key to actually making this stuff exciting.

    J: One last thing from me then, what does the rest of 2018 look like for you? More touring? More music?

    A: Yeah, we’ve got much more music to release that we’re fine tuning at the moment. It’s been really good to release the Two Free Hands EP, and see how people respond to it. If you don’t release something, people don’t know what you’re doing. I’ve got lots of regional shows to do, which is always good. The great test of this stuff is whether you can get a response from somebody in the regions [laughs], and I’m currently developing some other crazy shows at the moment — there’s some talks of doing a show in a planetarium.

    Anthonie Tonnon plays Meow on April 13, tickets through Under the Radar. You can also stream his new EP, Two Free Hands, through Bandcamp.  


  • One Day at a Time


    Okay, three things:

    1. We’re coming up on the first round of assignment season and some healthy procrastination may or may not go amiss.
    2. You probably have access to a Netflix account, whether it’s through your flat, some rando on the other side of the world, or your ex-boyfriend’s cousin’s mechanic’s. I think I have like seven people on mine, leeching bastards.
    3. You can never have too many good vibes in your life.

    So, in light of these three things, it’s time you finally got around to watching that Netflix original show that popped up once, a while ago, but it wasn’t Orange is the New Black, Stranger Things, or a Marvel product, so you didn’t watch it. Fair. I hear you. I was in the same position, which is why you should trust me on this. Add it to your list: One Day at a Time.

    The show centres on Penelope Alvarez (Justina Muchado), a Cuban-American veteran living in Los Angeles without her husband, who she is divorcing. Her two teenage kids, Elena and Alex, are still at home, where they live in the same building as their weird landlord Schneider (first name redacted) who imagines himself as part of the family. But the show is stolen by Penelope’s mother Lydia, who also lives with her, played by the amazing, EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony award winning), Rita Moreno. You have not lived until you see Rita Moreno’s character classify herself as dramatic. The pulling of curtains is involved.

    This show is just simply delightful. I can’t tell you how often it put a smile on my face — I even caught myself laughing through happy tears! This family loves each other, and they say so. They support each other through all of the hijinks they get caught up in. They are cosy and at ease with each other. It’s just lovely.

    One Day at a Time touches on a lot of relevant themes — Penelope has struggles with post traumatic stress and getting equal pay at her job, Elena is a climate warrior, and the family are constantly facing the challenges that come with being a Cuban-American family in the current political climate of the USA. But in spite of all that, this show is like a hug that leaves you feeling so fulfilled and satisfied you feel like you could go out and conquer the world.

    It’s a great binge watch, or you know, you could watch it one day at a time (sorry, the pun fruit was just too low hanging!) Besides, are you going home for mid-tri break (those of us that get one)? Because this is also a perfect recommendation for your family – your grandma will love Rita Moreno! How often do you come across TV you’d actually want to watch with your grandmother?

    So tuck yourself in, get ready to feel the love, and join the Alvarezs One Day at a Time.


  • Wellington in Film

    (This is not exactly a film review.)

    So you’ve probably been in Wellington for a little while now. Maybe the lure of Wellington’s (very glamorous) film scene drew you here. A lot of movies are filmed in and around Wellington. Most of those movies are not actually set in Wellington.

    Here’s a ranked list of Wellington film locations. Some of them are cool. (Some of them are not.)

    Lower Victoria St, CBD (Ghost in the Shell) — 0/5 stars

    2017’s Ghost in the Shell was controversial for many reasons, but being shot in Wellington wasn’t one of them. Victoria St looks unrecognisable in one of the action scenes from the film. Without the elaborate set dressing and colour correction, it’s just a street.

    Mitre 10 Mega, Petone (Krampus) — 2/5 stars

    The opening scene of Krampus is set in this humble store — though it was transformed into the more Americanized “Mucho Mart” to maintain historical accuracy. Considering it’s the only part of the film that ventures beyond the confines of a soundstage, it’s probably very important. I’ve never actually been there.

    Mt Victoria (Lord of the Rings/Pete’s Dragon) — 3/5 stars

    The very first footage for Lord of the Rings was shot on this prominent mountain in 1999. Since then, the mountain has been used in other movies, such as Pete’s Dragon, and in many a student film. While Mt Victoria is lovely (and very spooky on a misty day), it is also just a steep hill, and the bits that look like Lord of the Rings were trampled by tourists long ago.

    Lyall Bay (Lord of the Rings/King Kong) — 3.5/5 stars

    Iconic scenes of Skull Island from 2005’s King Kong (that’s the King Kong film that’s three and a half hours long) were shot on this south Wellington beach. It is gorgeous on a good day and has a damn good cafe, but you’re not going to see any giant monsters when you head out there (hopefully).

    Red Rocks (Lord of the Rings) — 3.5/5 stars

    Yet more scenes from Lord of the Rings were filmed out here. If you head south through Brooklyn and follow the longest road in the world down to the sea, you’ll hit Red Rocks. While the place may not be immediately obvious in the film — I wouldn’t know, I’ve never actually seen any of them — it’s got some nice walks, stunning scenery and fur seals in the winter, so it’s good even if you’re not there for the movie tie-in. 

    Wellington Railway Station (Goodbye Pork Pie/Pork Pie) — 4/5 stars

    One of the most iconic scenes in 1981’s Goodbye Pork Pie (and the 2017 remake) is when the yellow Mini drives up the front steps of the Railway Station and onto a train. The place is awesome enough even without a mad car chase taking place in it. (I’m mainly ranking it so high because I’m in approximately five minutes of that film.)

    (the now dead) Boogie Wonderland, CBD (What We Do in the Shadows)  — 5/5 stars

    My favourite bar in Wellington used to be Boogie Wonderland. Although it was alarmingly close to Estab, it had a charm and a selection of music that appealed to my disco-loving soul, as well as disco balls that every fresher used to try to steal. The vampires in Shadows loved it too. RIP Boogie. You’re gone, but will remain forever in my heart.

    While there are many other filming locations in Wellington, a lot of them tend to be on soundstages, illegal to access, or condemned. Honestly, if you’re just wanting to make a quick buck, you could probably tell some tourists that parts of Lord of the Rings were filmed in your backyard.

    (It’s technically true.)


  • Five Women

    CW: sexual harassment and inappropriate behaviour in the workplace.

    Five Women is a podcast episode produced by the popular radio show This American Life. It details the experiences of five women who worked for Don Hazen, the executive editor of the left-wing news magazine Alternet. The host, Chana Joffe-Wait, delves into the histories and lives of these women leading up to their first encounters with Hazen. It’s not simply reportage — we hear these women speak for themselves and tell their individual truths, which is a rare occurrence in an industry saturated with male-centric narratives.

    In the wake of the #MeToo movement, Hazen’s history of sexual harassment and inappropriate behaviour towards his female employees has come to light. Deanna, Onnesha, Tana, and Kristen share their experiences working for Hazen, while Vivian offers an alternative perspective as his long-term partner.

    Deanna, Onnesha, Tana and Kristen all met Hazen at a young age, while attempting to enter the journalism industry, which is notorious for its competitive nature. Hazen portrayed himself as a guide and mentor to these women, however these relationships quickly became exploitative. This included forcing women to view explicit images, having unprotected sex with women and failing to disclose that he had a sexually transmittable infection, inappropriate touching, and coercion. Alongside these specific incidents, Hazen fostered a culture where non-sexual forms of power and manipulation were made possible.

    Five Women successfully illustrates the breadth and complexity of sexual harassment and power dynamics in the workplace. Often in the reportage of these stories, the nuances and subtleties of power that permeate the workplace are minimised or dismissed. However, it is these exact subtleties that make working life difficult for women on a daily basis. For example, one of the women asked Hazen for a pay rise, but was denied. Hazen instead asked personal questions about her financial situation and offered to pay her rent. Although on the surface this may not come under the umbrella of what we consider “inappropriate”, the individual recognised that this was Hazen’s play at power over her personal life.

    What makes this podcast so refreshing is the nature in which it individualises the experiences of these women. In doing so, it subverts the traditional narrative of victimhood and shows that there is no “right” way to be a victim. These women all had widely varied responses and reflections in regards to Hazen’s behaviour, and the podcast is successful in rendering all of these as valid. It should be recognised that this episode was produced entirely by women and focused solely on female stories. This is a testament to the value and importance of  women telling their own stories, and amplifying those of others.

    The beauty of podcasting as a medium is its ability to eternalise the voices of these women in a way that written work is often unable to. These voices are not metaphorical, they are the actual voices of women telling their stories in their own words. This gives their stories a tangibility, rendering it impossible to dismiss the recollections as empty commentary.

    Ultimately Five Women is well worth your time. It speaks to the multitude of experiences women face both in and out of the workplace. These voices should not go unheard.


  • About the Author ()

    Salient is a magazine. Salient is a website. Salient is an institution founded in 1938 to cater to the whim and fancy of students of Victoria University. We are partly funded by VUWSA and partly by gold bullion that was discovered under a pile of old Salients from the 40's. Salient welcomes your participation in debate on all the issues that we present to you, and if you're a student of Victoria University then you're more than welcome to drop in and have tea and scones with the contributors of this little rag in our little hideaway that overlooks Wellington.

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