Issue 90.7 - Hearsay by On Dit

HEARSAY90.7

Every Tuesday to Friday, 8:30am – 10:30am during term. Level 5, Union House

contents. EDITORIAL 7 YOUX PRESIDENT’S REPORT 8 SRC PRESIDENT’S REPORT 10 VOX? POP! 12 LEFT RIGHT CENTRE 14 EDITORS’ RECOMMENDATIONS 16 SUSTAINABILI-DIT 18 ECON-DIT 20 DISABILI-DIT 22 CLUB SPOTLIGHT 24 19-24 THEORY 25 DISSECTION 28 AMBIENT MUSIC FOR READING 29 TENUTO 30 PICNIC BOY | ENOUGH 32 THE WINTER LIGHTS 34 BROWN FUR 36 FOX AND CAT 37 LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB 38 WHAT IS LOVE? 40 BOOKS TO BE CONSUMED 41 5 AUSTRALIAN LITERARY JOURNALS TO SUBMIT TO 45 WHY EVERYONE SHOULD ENGAGE WITH BLACK CREATIVES 46 I STAND ON THE EDGE OF MEANING 47 DREAM OF SNOW 48 BOOKS I HAVEN’T READ YET 49 LUNATIC 50 OUR BODIES 52 A PLAYLIST 53 HOW TO FADE AWAY COMPLETELY 54 NOTICE OF STUDENT ELECTION 56

credits.EDITORSGUEST LAUREN SHALLOW BECK ROWSE EDITORS GRACE JENNYCHANELHABIBAHATTAJAGHOORITREZISESURIMJUNG DESIGN JENNY SURIM JUNG COVER ART JENNY SURIM JUNG SUB-EDITORS & CONTRIBUTORS KARIM SEBASTIANALESSIASIENNAKATHERINESHONAHAYLETTALEXANDRAJUDAHMAHYAHASSANPANAHKHANITANSUDLOW-EDWARDSQUEENSULICICHLELLIANDREW

We acknowledge and pay our respects to the Kaurna people and their elders past, present and future as the traditional custodians of the land on which the University of Adelaide stands. We acknowledge that their cultural and heritage beliefs are still as important to the living Kaurna people today.

Every melody has a motif; every book a conversation. Virginia Woolf, Thomas Pynchon, Allen Ginsberg. Any author. Every author. One speaks to the other, the other speaks back. Conversations mumbled in your mind; words, sentences, paragraphs, entire books gossiped left-to-right. Hearsay is a conversation. The chit-chat hum of the students in the Hub at the start of the semester; the redoubled clip-on microphone voices of our lecturers fed through to lecture hall speakers. You, flicking and dog-earing these pages.

T ORIAL

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YouLaurencallhearsay and let the sound echo, I whisper rumours, halftruths. Your sounds are snatched at, hurried out, by an agitated woman who sweeps her hands wide, a bird, and moves them in, closing the doors I realise, closing the building from us. Not really though, everywhere is open to us.

To tell a story, I’ve been asked to think about that a lot recently; to question how word choice transforms, how meaning twists through generations. Really, I just want to give you small comforts, here and Ithere.want you to read this, maybe in the winter rain, and find yourself warm, speaking quieter for the afternoon. Or bolder, lovely and moving toward spring. I want you to call back to Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese: ‘over and over, announcing your place in the family of things,’ because you’re welcome here, and quite cherished. Call.BeckReturn.

I have also been participating in the Transforming Culture program, by 8

OSCAR ONG YouX oscarong1997Facebook/WeChatedu.auoscarzishao.ong@adelaide.Email:presidentID:

As you would have noticed, we have recently changed our name and Onebranding!notable lesson that COVID have taught us is that life continuously changes, and we need to adapt ourselves to ensure we are best positioned to deal with the challenges. As a 127 years old organisation, things have changed a lot since then. Our last brand refresh was in 2012, so now it’s time for something new. We undertook the rebranding project last year to review our name and brand, ensuring that we are connected with students, improve engagement, and having an inclusive brand, and also accurately captures what we do.

After an extensive research and consultative process, we landed with the brand “YouX”. YouX is representative of partnership. As a student services provider, our main priority is the student experience, and this brand helps to transmit that message. YouX brings the you into the story, showing how we enable you to experience uni the way they want, in line with their interests and values. One of my other major focuses has also been your safety on campus. Participating in a review of security services, my feedback was focused on anti-sexual harassment/assault effort and more accessible and diverse security team to ensure you feel comfortable approaching them.

STATE OF THE UNIONFOSTATEOFTHEUNIONSTATEOFTHEUNIONSTATEEHTNOINUETATSNNANNEHTFOUIOSTSTTEOFTHEUIO

helping to drive important initiatives to help build a more inclusive and safer campus and ensuring the university implements the recommendations from the KPMG report. I am also pleased to see the recently appointed Executive Director of the Integrity Unit (IU), an important step towards the implementation of the Transforming Culture program. The IU is responsible to handle misconduct complaints and raising awareness. I’ve also chaired the YouX Student Care AGM recently, and it was really heart-warming to see the impact that we’ve made to student life, as I believe the important role YouX plays in helping you to succeed in your studies. There were 13,000 concerns addressed and 8,600 one on one student contacts through YouX Student Care. As Semester 2 is in full swing, make sure you take some time out to “log off and connect” to the wonderful YouX Clubs, campus and the community around you. You can see the event series we’ve got lined up for you in the coming months here:

oruniversity?Questions/suggestionswww.youx.org.au/interests/events/2022events/.https://abouttheYouX/Youarealwayswelcometoemailmesendmeamessagethroughsocialmedia! 9

ANA OBRADOVIC SRC President 10

S R C P R E S I DE NT ’ S R E P O SNSCSTRRPREIDET’SREPORTSRCPREIEDTN’SREPOTRSRCPNNSERIDET’SREPORTSRCPRESIDET’S 11 THE PRESIDENT’S REPORT COULD NOT BE SUBMITTED FOR THIS ISSUE

4. If only SACE would heed my wishes and countless emails to add The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn to the high school history syllabus.

1. I’m a scorpio. My descriptions are always accurate.

2nd Year | B. Arts

3. Depends on your goals. If you dream of the office-cube life, ‘Enquiring Mind’ will help speed up that synaptic pruning. To uncover what it means to be youth hosts of the world, the 1960s literature class may be for you…

2nd Year | B. Arts

2. My past sandwich artist self is going to let you in on a secret of the underdogs. Ask those sandwich-stacking angels to toast you a wrap with marinara, salami, olives, capsicum, and mountains upon mountains of cheese. Voila! Subway pizza. Sink ya teeth into that.

1. Scorpio. I don’t want to know, I’m terrified they do apply. I don’t like the idea of the stars knowing something I don’t.

4. If you need a hint where to start, the cavemen wrote some pretty seminal inscriptions.

Harry (he/him)

VVOX?OX?1. WHAT IS YOUR STAR SIGN? DO YOU THINK THE ACCURATELYDESCRIPTIONSAPPLY TO 2.YOU?WHAT IS YOUR IDEAL SUBWAY SANDWICH? 12

Lauren (she/her)

2. My ideal subway sandwich is 6 very occasional inches of chicken parmi because I value my gut 3.health.Itdepends on the student but I can highly recommend Latin.

2. I rarely mix up my Subway order because I’m boring. It’s always the same: white bread (footlong), roast beef, cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, mayo and of course it has to be toasted. I cop a lot of slack from mates about how basic it is, so I’m sure other people will have much more interesting orders than 3.mine.That’s a tricky question. I don’t have a particular class that I would suggest, as I think any class can be great as long as you have an interest in it.

PPOP!OP! 3. IF YOU COULD SUGGEST ONE CLASS TO A PROSPECTIVE STUDENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE? 4. ARE THERE ANY BOOKS THAT YOU THINK SHOULD BE COMPULSORY READING? 13

1. I’m a Leo. I’m not really sure if they are accurate. I think it depends on the day for me, I’d love to say I’m an extrovert, and I embody Leo characteristics but some days I’m the polar opposite. I’d much rather be in bed watching netflix with my dog. So I think it’s a day by day sort of question for me…

1. My star sign is Aquarius. I’d say I definitely share the traits of being independent and analytical throughout my everyday life and a little eccentric and aloof. Unfortunately that can also come across as me being a little cold and closed off but I swear I’m nice…

2. I’ve literally ordered the same sub every time since I can remember. Italian herbs and cheese, cheddar (extra of course), ham, avo, lettuce, carrot, cucumber, olives, aioli, and jalapenos if I’m feeling spicy. Toasted or fresh depends on my mood and the weather.

4. I haven’t done much reading recently, but I really enjoyed Let My People Go Surfing by Yvon Chouinard. It’s about the Patagonia brand and their rise to where they’re now using environmentally friendly methods.

Ella (she/her) 3rd Year | B. Int. SociologyRelations/

3. I’m biased but I’d definitely suggest doing an intro to sociology or a social problems course. It’s a great way to open your eyes to the relevance of your everyday social experiences and how your own life fits in the social hierarchy.

3rd Year | B. Int. Relations/Media

Kenji (he/him)

4. Twilight, duh.

Yet discomfort was central to the intent behind The Handmaid’s Tale, and why Atwood’s works enjoyed their initial success. The 2017 television show should have embraced this central theme far more earnestly by casting a black lead, yet, profits come first under capitalism. It is high time for the arts to embrace new discourse written by authors that our slow progress has paved the way for instead of celebrating texts written for their time that benefit from the exploitation of marginalised groups.

90.6LRC 1. Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale is a popular book. Discourse surrounding it has criticised Atwood for appropriating the experience of Black Women and making it into a white women’s issue, hence, the reason it has become so popular. What do you have to add to this 2.discourse?Ifyou were in government would you legalise the ‘Anarchist Cookbook’, why or why not? 3. What book do you recommend people read to better understand your political ideology? 14 Socialist Alternative | ASHRAF ABDUL HALIM, NIX HERRIOT Greens Club | ANNIKA STEWART, CHAS DAVIS,PANAYIOTOULAZARAS

2. Prohibiting information doesn’t necessarily work. The Anarchist Cookbook can be downloaded online despite bans in multiple countries. We wouldn’t ban the book. Socialists have always been staunch opponents of censorship. Written at the height of the counterculture and anti-Vietnam war movement, the cookbook gives readers questionable tools to make homemade drugs and bombs. But it doesn’t offer any effective recipe for social change. Its underlying view is that violence can be employed to spark change (a view subsequently renounced by the author). The turn to individualistic political violence by groups such as the Weather Underground was a disaster. Terrorist methods contradict the basic Marxist approach to change through mass self-emancipation. To paraphrase Trotsky, if guns and explosives are enough, why the need for class struggle, meetings, mass agitation and elections? The state is too powerful for small bands of guerrillas. Furthermore, terrorism frequently targets not oppressors but ordinary people. Collective action is needed to win a society free of violence, exploitation and oppression.

2. The banning of book titles is an exercise of power that seeks to control the expression of ideas.

1. More people now understand that the complicity to placate audiences with a white protagonist in Margaret Atwood’s

Prohibited for its potential to incite violence, one could be mistaken for believing that this judgement was justified. However, if inciting violence was a

Although Australia has become more relaxed since the establishment of the Book Censorship Board in 1933, a few non-fiction books remain banned including the Anarchist Cookbook. A guide to making explosives, weapons, and drugs, the book was made illegal shortly after its publication in 1971.

The Handmaid’s Tale is ironic. A white protagonist is no doubt in an attempt to make black experiences more palatable for Atwood’s audience.

1. Although the Handmaid’s Tale remains as compelling and uncomfortably relevant as when it was first published, Atwood’s text is weakened by omitting the structural, racial and class dynamics of women’s oppression. Questions of class raised in the novel, embodied by the ‘Econowives’, were disappeared from the Hulu series along with the white supremacist character of Gilead’s ruling class. It seems implausible that racism doesn’t seem to exist alongside misogyny. Director Bruce Miller’s so-called “postracist” dystopia has understandably attracted criticism for its slave narrative that appropriates experiences from the plantation and crafts an society uncomplicated by blackness, history or class. As writer Sophie Lewis explains, this is symptomatic of a liberal worldview that abdicates a critique of capital to blame its woes on fundamentalists with guns. To recognise this weakness is not to castigate millions of readers and viewers moved by Atwood’s cautionary tale, but to demand a critique better suited to challenging capitalism. After all, contemporary gender oppression is primarily driven by capitalism, not Christian fascism.

3. Marx and Engels’ writings remain central for those wanting to change the world. The Communist Manifesto isn’t a historical artefact nor dogmatic scripture – it’s alive with analysis, polemic and argument, a call to arms for our times.

3. Greens theory and works play off each other and are becoming increasingly based. Based on what you ask? Our four pillars: ecological sustainability, grassroots participatory democracy, social justice, and peace and non-violence. The latest and greatest addition is Tim Hollo’s Living Democracy: An ecological manifesto for the end of the world as we know it. Having only been able to read reviews at this time, as the work enjoys a slow roll-out by virtue of being written by a Greenie with poor funding, the book is about how it’s the end of the world as we know it, but also how this doesn’t have to mean it’s the end of the world. ‘A brilliant treatise for our future and based on a deep understanding of First Nations knowledge –Tim Hollo has given us so much with this beautifully written work.’ – Dr Tjanara Goreng Goreng

3. I’m a ᴙepublican, so it’s difficult to say. My ideology? – A diet of equal parts Das Schloss, La Condition Humaine, Blood Meridian, Troy Chimneys, Candide, and Turgenev’s /Отцы и дети/ should just about get you there. (You should also know the Statement from the Heart.)

Liberal | TAYLOR WESTMACOTT

1. This is poor scholarship, short and simple. I do not agree that Atwood appropriated the experience of Black Women. This is not how writing prose fiction works. This is not how the novel ought to operate. Having said this, I do find Atwood particularly tasteless at times (and Handmaid’s “the Underground Femaleroad” may be a quintessential example of this). But fiction is allowed to be tasteless. In some circumstances, it has to be.

1. The Handmaid’s Tale is a confessional style journal about the power of language to end oppression and give voice to suppressed histories. It leans heavily on the slave-woman trope, and critics have pointed out that it has a lot in common with the autobiographies of Black female slaves in antebellum America. Atwood, a history buff, uses the Christian fundamentalist ethnostate setting to make a point about how Puritan exorcistic tendencies manifest in modern America as intolerance and violence. But this message is focalised through a white protagonist because all of the Black characters were killed! Atwood, I think, tries to repay her narrative debt by giving the protagonist a character arc where she recognises her apathy towards social injustice and urges the reader to attend to current political struggles. The book fails to understand that degrees of oppression and liberty are set up even within the female gender. It turns a deaf ear to the double marginalization that women of colour have endured for centuries. The iconic status of Atwood’s story is testament to how readily Black history is appropriated to provoke sympathy for white women while banishing Black women.

To better understand Republican philosophy? –Hobbes’ Leviathan and Locke’s Second Treatise of Government. Republicanism in Australia? – Mark McKenna’s The Captive Republic. Lastly, essential reading for all – Plato’s Republic and Marx’s Kapital.

2. The Anarchist’s Cookbook was Refused Classification in Australia, meaning it cannot be sold or imported. As a fundamental value, I’m against criminalising the possession of books. If I were in government, I would want to ensure possession of the Cookbook was not a criminal act – but I certainly wouldn’t approve it for commercial Classification.

15 Labor Club | STEPH MADIGAN justifiable offence, then one would surmise that other books such as Mein Kampf or the Turner Diaries would also be banned -alas they are not. Whilst legalising the Anarchist Cookbook would not necessarily improve its relative accessibility in the age of the internet, it would be a recognition that ideas are not violent only people are.

2. Book-banning is an antiquated notion from the pre-internet age. Although governments are getting better at blocking access to websites on private internet services, the volume of content being created is too much for any algorithm to sift through and regulate. It is far too easy to access copies and prohibition has failed to deter people from doing so. There is also the social harm of incarcerating young, non-violent, otherwise law-abiding citizens. Finally, censorship is a function of power and an enemy of free speech. Anarchism is a historicallymaligned and widely misunderstood ideology, and it’s hard to ignore the anticommunist flavour of most pro-censorship arguments.

3. Mark Fisher’s ‘Capitalist Realism’ and ‘Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People about Race’ by Reni Eddo-Loge are great entry-points. Or anything by Arundhati Roy.

This book was gifted to me after my grandmother lost her body to covid. I was sad, angry and overwhelmed with worldly responsibilities and my friends gave me this book. I cried when I got it, because number one, I missed my grandmother. Number two, because this book was on my reading list and number three because I experienced an act of true love. This book is a collection of poems about everything that ignites fire within me. It’s a collection on Palestine, police brutality, incarceration, US militarism and a whole heap of capitalist terribleness. The poems aren’t political analysis or theory before I scare anyone off. It’s words about the humanity behind all of these. Like all good poems, this collection brings shame and inspiration all in one go.

HABIBAH’S PICK - BEFORE THE NEXT BOMB DROPS: RISING UP FROM BROOKLYN TO PALESTINE - REMI KANAZI

This poem is short but a true favourite of mine. I love the imagery, I love that so much is conveyed in so little, and I love that you can like a bitter heart.

LAUREN’S PICK - IN THE DESERT - STEPHEN CRANE

EDITORS’ BOOKS/POETRYRECOMMENDATIONSBECK’SPICK-HAVINGACOKEWITHYOU-FRANKO’HARA

A love poem that goes from Coke to Michelangelo. It is pure, artistic, and humorous. O’Hara captures the gushing feeling of love in run-on sentences and art history references.

CHANEL’S PICK - POWERAUDRE LORDE Power speaks of the rife systematic, violent and prevalent racism of the western world. With such descriptive and dark imagery, this poem really sheds light on the horrors people of colour have to endure. So, if you’re white and you’re reading this- we need to do better to actively work against this system that oppresses people of colour.

JENNY’S PICK - BOOK OF LONGING - LEONARD COHEN

GRACE’S PICK - ITHAKA - CONSTANTINE PETER CAVAFY

Since I am obsessed with Leonard Cohen’s songwriting and lyricism, I thought I might buy his poetry book too - and what a great decision that was! Cohen does not decorate or fluff about, his words are intimately vulgar. Like the title suggests, a huge theme throughout the book is longing, and Cohen expresses it so painfully and so beautifully. There’s also a lot about his time as a monk - very interesting. He pines, reminisces, yearns - pretty much right up my alley. I hope you will enjoy it too.

I was introduced to this poem in Year 11 of high school and since then, it has always held a special place in my heart. It isn’t particularly complex or long, but beautiful nonetheless. The poem is about understanding what is important in life. It pulls on the characters and places of Greek mythology, including the concept of ‘Ithaka’ as a kind of paradise. It tells us that we should hope our ‘road is a long one’, simply for the experience of the road. A favourite line of mine from this piece is ‘And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.’ I can guarantee you I have not done this piece justice, so please go and read it.

It is no secret that since the first industrial revolution, and the subsequent idle hopes of perpetual growth, that Earth is on its last legs, and it begs the question of how we got to such a terrible position, and what can we do to prevent our imminent demise.

Well, as it turns out, history does repeat itself. Studying what ancient civilizations did right, what others did wrong, and what solutions were done back then, could provide us with a good backbone of what to do next. Some early civilizations, such as the Native Americans and the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples focused their time and efforts towards living harmoniously with their surrounding environment with which they felt a spiritual and hereditary connection to (Venorio, 2020) (Indigenous Australians and the Environment, 2022). This is one of the reasons that these cultures were less technologically advanced than their European and Asian counterparts. A prominent notion among the native Americans was self-restraint, as overconsumption in a constantly changing environment was bound to lead to struggle in future generations (Venorio, 2020). The Wampanoag practiced organic farming and understood that plants, like animals, required sustenance and acted accordingly, enriching the land instead of depleting it of natural resources (Venorio, 2020). Many of these cultures also understood that their actions have environmental impacts and therefore worked to have a symbiotic relationship with nature, rather than a parasitic one, granting them the nickname of the ‘first environmentalists’ as they treated nature with respect which has since been discarded by colonials (Venorio, 2020). Much like most ancient civilizations, the sheltering system for Native Americans required minimal space and was achievable without any drastic changes to the environment (Venorio, 2020) (Rethinking The Future, 2022). Apart from foreign invasion, the downfall of the Mayan Empire was caused when the need for human sacrifices increased more than the population can maintain (Apocalypto, 2006).

Wordsabilisustain-ditbyKarimHassan

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples, like the Native Americans, also saw the significance in nature yet believed it to be a part of them, and thus felt responsible to maintain their community through sustainable living (Indigenous Australians and the Environment, 2022). They only hunted what was necessary and left no part of the animal to waste as they were very rich in nutrients. Medicine was also gathered purely from natural resources gaining the nickname ‘bush medicine’ (Indigenous Australians and the Environment, 2022). Since the invasion of the colonials, and their poorly integrated farming systems, it’s been left to the owners of the land to reduce the salinity of the soil using their traditional methods such as fire management which the colonisers have since adopted (Gilles, 2017). These methods of land maintenance which were claimed by the aforementioned colonisers have faded over time (Gilles, 2017).

Other civilizations and empires had sustainability and nature preservation

For example, Bhutan and Suriname are the first two carbon negative countries ever, Japan is constantly researching green energy storage using hydrogen, and Albania, Paraguay, and Iceland use nearly 100% renewable energy. Is that enough? Definitely not, major changes need to be made, (looking at you USA) before we can buy ourselves enough time before climate change becomes irreversible in 2030.

Recommendation:Book Learning, Environment, and Sustainable Development: A History of Ideas by William Scott, Paul Vare

The most prominent sign of stability to the Egyptians was growth and continuity, as stagnation was deemed dangerous (Ellen, 2020). However, this became Egypt’s downfall as generations passed and other governing bodies took place. Utilising the sustainable flood cycle was discarded as dams were put in place in 1960 preventing the fertilizing muds from assisting farmers. This caused the water to grow stagnant and the soil saline making it a better environment for parasites than crops (Ellen, 2020). Does the notion of perpetual growth at the cost of sustainability sound familiar? Now you know the outcome of it.

Living in a harsh desert terrain with limited resources, ancient Egypt could not have thrived without upholding a sustainable lifestyle which involved cyclical stability used to take advantage of the annual Nile floods which brought in fertile mud from the interior of Africa (Ellen, 2020). Upon each annual cycle, the local farmers would gather as much water and nutrients as they can, which they conserved and utilised to the best of their ability to stockpile on crops for the upcoming dry season (Ellen, 2020). The Egyptians held stability at a very high regard and feared all forms of chaos. Be it from the wild desert, the collapsed old government, and especially the floods that would cause their farmland borders to disappear. They upheld these borders by keeping such records in their bureaus.

Sustainabili-Dit...

Ancient Rome, creating sewage systems, aqueducts, and practicing crop rotation have prided themselves in their water distribution skills and been known as the ‘pioneers of the eco-friendly home’ (Derbyshire, 2010). Their sustainability, however, can be disputed as their economy was based on slavery, and their philosophy was based on conquest (Ancient Roman Economy, 2022). In order to feed their masses, Rome went to invade many countries including present day Lebanon which was utilised for its vast farmlands to feed the invading army as it pressed onto StudiesEgypt.

have shown that even ancient civilizations experienced some degree of global environmental impact. Twelve millennia ago, humans were simple hunter/ gatherers, but in the last 3000 years, we started using excessive land for farming and housing causing deforestation, and we began domesticating animals to become more reliant on humans via selective breeding, each culture used different methods to compensate for these impacts. These methods could be used to our advantage to adapt them to our modern-day equivalent.

Sustainability Throughout History

embedded into their societies. For example, ancient China was considered to be ‘the world’s earliest environmental protection ministry’ where living sustainably and being eco-friendly was advocated politically (Liu Xiongfei, 2014). In fact, Chinese philosopher and politician, Guan Zhong, who was in office at around 680 BC stated that ‘a king who cannot protect his vegetations is not qualified to be a king’ (Liu Xiongfei, 2014). The environmental protection legislation can be traced back to four millennia ago under the reign of Dayu, who banned wood chopping in March and fishing in June, the times of year they thrived (Liu Xiongfei, 2014).

There are a few different methods of approaching this question. One way of ascertaining the worth of Mr Darcy’s wealth today is to examine the value of his relative income, which involves consideration of a person’s income in relation to GDP per capita, or their income in relation to average income. Using the latter measure (and an online relative value calculator), it can be estimated that Mr Darcy’s £10,000 annual salary in 1810 would translate to £9,500,000 in 2021, which equates to approximately

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.’ This is how Jane Austen begins her infamous novel, Pride and Prejudice. From the opening line it becomes pretty clear that the novel is about love, but just like most romantic stories set in 19th century England, it is also very much about money.

20 Words by Mahya Panahkhahi

For those unfamiliar with the plot, it revolves around the Bennet family, with Elizabeth (“Lizzy”) Bennet, the second eldest of five sisters, being the main protagonist of the novel. The Bennets are a wealthy English family, but thanks to old inheritance laws, in the event of Mr Bennet’s death, his estate will not pass onto any female family members. Instead, it will revert back to his male cousin, Mr Collins. Because the Bennet property is entailed, it also means that Mr Bennet cannot sell the property and divide it amongst his immediate family members to guarantee their financial security. Thus, after Mr Bennet’s death, the sisters will only be left with a share in the £5,000 that their mother brought into the marriage. Consequently, Mrs Bennet is determined for her daughters to marry soon, and to marry such that they secure their financial future.

econ-dit

As expected, an intelligent and beautiful young woman such as Lizzy has quite a few suitors, an unfavourable one being Mr Collins. The most promising bachelor, however, is Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. Charming, handsome, (and noticeably rich), Mr Darcy seems like the perfect suitor for Lizzy, but she initially finds him arrogant and unpleasant. Nevertheless, (spoiler alert) the two end up together at the conclusion of Jane Austen’s flawless depiction of an enemies-to-lovers Iromance.would never dare suggest that Lizzy married for money, because she evidently married for love, and if she was in pursuit of money, she would not have rejected Mr Darcy’s first proposal. However, readers can see that Lizzy got very lucky, and it becomes easy to understand why Mr and Mrs Bennet had no objections to Mr Darcy, once we view his wealth with a modern lens. Readers are made aware that Mr Darcy has an annual income of £10,000, with Mr Bennet’s annual income being around £2,000. In the event that Mr Bennet passes away before his daughters are married, they are each likely to receive an equal share of their mother’s £5,000, which would bring Lizzy’s total wealth to £1,000. Mr Collins estimates that Lizzy would make a 4-5% return on her wealth, making her income as an unmarried woman a mere £40 to £50 per year. From this, it is evident that Mr Darcy is significantly wealthy, but how does his affluence translate into someone living in 21st century Australia?

The England in which Lizzy and Mr Darcy lived was a society entrenched with economic inequality. Lizzy was lucky because the love of her life happened to be very wealthy, but in a day and age where a woman could only obtain wealth through inheritance or marriage, most had no choice but to marry rich in order to gain financial security, and so some pursued financially driven marriages, in which love had no place. And not every character in Pride and Prejudice was as fortunate as Lizzy. Charlotte Lucas, Lizzy’s best friend, suddenly and unexpectedly married Mr Collins, and later admitted to Lizzy that the marriage was necessary as she was getting older (only 27!) and Mr Collins could provide her with financial comfort. There is no doubt that there still exist people who marry for money, but it is hoped that there would be fewer such people in a society where there is less economic inequality (albeit we all know it still exists). Nevertheless, it is clear why Pride and Prejudice is a timeless classic, with its central themes of love and money still very much applicable over 200 years later.

The economics of Pride and Prejudice

16,500,000 Australian dollars. Admittedly, these values are not the most accurate and would vary depending on a range of factors, including the exact year the novel is set in, and the exchange rates used for calculating the Australian equivalent, but the approximations do make one thing crystal clear: Mr Darcy was undoubtedly wealthy. With this in mind, we can understand why Mrs Bennet would have been very satisfied to see her daughter marry Mr Darcy.

Lesson 1: By requiring victims and bystanders to submit individual complaints and placing the burden for collecting evidence and administrating the complaint on the complainer, complaint processes atomise and isolate the complainer. This teaches us that complainers are kept unaware of the existence of other complainers. Lesson 2: The absence of other complaints can make it even harder to recognize there is something to complain about. This teaches us the importance of bystanders and validating that the behaviour isn’t acceptable. Lesson 3: Those who most need to complain are those who cannot afford to complain. This teaches us about the importance of solidarity from allies who do have the capacity to speak up.

Words by Alexandra SudlowHaylett and Shona Edwards

ditdisabili-

Earlier this year, as a bystander, I reported an incident to Safer Campus Community regarding a persistent and concerning case of harassment within the disability community. This harassment continued for so long because the young neurodivergent victims gave the perpetrator the benefit of the doubt as the perpetrator was also neurodivergent.

Sara Ahmed’s 2021 book Complaint! gave me the language I needed to describe this experience, and to define the internal and external ‘difficulties’ that I felt myself up against.

The victims of this abuse felt unsure about their own interpretation of social cues. They struggled to describe their discomfort and identify what the panicked, stomachdropping feeling in their stomach meant. The fact is, if someone makes you uncomfortable, for any reason, even if you’re not sure how, and even if you think they don’t MEAN to make you uncomfortable… that is not okay. You deserve to feel safe. Good intentions don’t negate one’s negative impact. But it’s so hard to even recognise that these behaviours are unacceptable when you have so much doubt and fear. We know the University of Adelaide has a history of sexual harassment, and we need to pay attention to how that impacts the most vulnerable members of this community, for whom the doubt and fear are overwhelming. My experience of making a formal complaint as a bystander made me very aware of how difficult that process is. I could not, in good conscience, tell my disabled and neurodivergent friends to submit a formal complaint like mine because the experience was so disorienting, isolating, and alienating. I don’t say this with the intention of dissuading you from reporting, but to prepare you – you will need support. The difficulty I felt was not unique to my case, but an institutional problem.

Complaint Made Manifest.

For disabled and neurodivergent students, internalised ableism is the first voice we hear that tells us ‘no’, that tells us ‘it wasn’t a big deal, get over it’. It is often the things you need to complain about that make it difficult to complain.

External voices are internalised as doubt. Ahmed’s book validated my experience and made me realise that there is so much internal work to do before you can trust your own judgment. It is even more work to speak up, and even more work to make a complaint and to continue on afterwards with unsatisfying (if any)

Whereoutcomes.should we turn when we hit those internal and external barriers? We must turn to each other and to the disability Therecommunity.issomuch power in hearing each other and being heard. The feeling of being able to name what is happening to you can empower you and others. We cannot do the work of complaint alone. Sometimes we only recognise that something happened to us when we hear it from someone else. Knowing it happened to a friend, we can identify not only that it happened, but that it was Thewrong.Disability illness and Divergence Association is committed to fostering spaces and communities where students can can find comfort in each other and speak about the difficulties, harassment and ableism they have faced. It is our responsibility to be in dialogue with the equity group we represent. It is also clear that the solution to the problem of complaint policies will never come from within the institution: the solution will come from us, together. Our events are informed by the theory of critical love and a politics of the disabled body that moves in action with others. As Ahmed teaches, “...to listen with a feminist ear is to hear who is not heard, how we are not heard”. When students come forward to us, we know how to listen, because we’ve been there too. We understand the bigger context of trauma and fear. Unlike the university’s grievance advisors, we bring our whole, disabled selves to our role as witness and listener. Serving as witness to student’s stories of mistreatment and neglect is an act of respect for their suffering and their right to be heard.

Ableism is reproduced when it goes unseen and unheard. We must start seeing and hearing it!

The most important lesson is this: The process of submitting a complaint is reWhentraumatising.acomplaint relates to ableist discrimination of harassment, lodging that complaint requires the disclosure of one’s disability status. Disclosure itself risks exposing us to further discrimination – and if your experience of filing a complaint is a negative one, you may never report again. Complaints can end up being about how complaints are handled. The administrative burden of collecting evidence of the initial incident(s) and how they are handled snowballs.

SPOTLIGHTCLUB SPOTLIGHT adelaide university film society EVENTSWHATDO YOU RUN?

All information about our events is available on our Facebook page, and if anyone has any further questions they are welcome to message

Our primary events are our Thursday evening screenings, which run from 6:30pm in the Union Cinema. These films are chosen by the membership at the start of each semester and reflect our broad range of interests. We also run collaborative screenings with other clubs. If you’re on a club committee and would love to watch a film, let us know!

No Country For Old Men. As a fan of the Coen Brothers and a fan of Cormac McCarthy this is one of the rare occasions where a filmmaker and a source material is perfectly aligned. McCarthy’s writing style typically involves a poetic prose describing characters trapped in an unforgiving hellscape where a character flaws are often the key reason why they will never achieve their goals. Whereas the Coen’s enjoy writing characters that are often in ironic situations where they are often emasculated. Enter in a neo-western about a man who is unable to accept his flaws as an assassin is hell bent on destroying him? You have a perfect marriage.

(SECRETARY)FITZPATRICKXAVIER

(TREASURER)POLLARDBREE As a lover of the period drama, Autumn de Wilde’s 2020 adaptation of Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’ steals the show for me. Emma both captures spirit the beloved characters and makes the story feel fresh and fun. Also, AnyaJoy.Taylor-

PRESIDENT)BALDLACHLAN(VICE

THE COMMITTEE’S FAV MOVIE ADAPTED FROM BOOKS!

The Adelaide University Film Society is the club for anyone who love films and wants to enjoy watching them with other students. We have existed in various iterations since the 70’s; enjoying communal screenings in the Union Cinema for many decades. This is a club for enthusiasts of films of every genre, style, age, culture, degree of seriousness, etc.

CLUB

Competition is tough, but my answer has to be Paul Schrader’s Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters. Schrader adapts three of Japanese author Yukio Mishima’s stories, and through them is able to reflect on his writing, his cultural position, and the contradictory nature of much of Mishima’s life and art. With stunning set design, beautiful colours, and great acting, Schrader (very) critically appreciates Mishima as a fellow artist.

Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 film Apocalypse Now is a brilliant adaption of the novella by Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness. Apocalypse Now effectively conveys the lost feeling of civilisation, which combined with the strangling jungle setting, makes for a fantastic film.

WHAT IS YOURABOUT?CLUB

(PRESIDENT)BRAYLEYJOSEPH

FB: Adelaide UniversitySocietyFilm INSTAGRAM: @adelunifilmsociety

It was a foggy night and the cool breeze rushed through the city streets as Lizzy ran down the footpath towards her destination. She was 10 minutes late to dinner with her friend, after failing to find a carpark. Her hair was a mess, and she was holding her coat closed, trying not to slip on the wet ground. Lizzy knew this would happen; she hasn’t been the most punctual person as of late. Staying in bed all day, constantly scrolling through her phone, and trying to pass the time without giving into her own thoughts. She knew it wasn’t good for her, which is why she organised this dinner with Yulia. To get out somehow for her own sanity. She came to the doorway of the restaurant and composed herself before going inside. It was quiet, a few people scattered here and there. Yulia was sitting in the corner, her hair put up in a bun, staring down at her phone.

‘We all had something like that didn’t we? Bridget got kicked out of home, 25

Lizzy rushed over, ‘Hello! I’m so sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find a park!’ she said, removing her coat to sit down. Yulia looked up smiling, ‘No, it’s fine! I haven’t been waiting long. I told you this place was nice. We should get the pad Thai and dumplings!’

Words by Katherine Queen

‘You cared so much about him’, Yulia said with a smile. ‘It was still an awful situation, but it changed me, like everyone else.’ She said, scoffing down another pile of noodles.

‘So, have you heard?’ Lizzy said, as she twirled a noodle in her fork, ‘Katie and Ben are getting back together.’

‘Are you serious?’ Yulia objected. ‘He’s awful to her, and she’s no better than him. The two together are so… vicious.’ She said with a grim tone. ‘Nobody can tell them what to do. Nobody can convince them it’s a bad idea. Do you remember me and Trevor years ago? We all knew it wasn’t a good idea. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. But I was too caught up in the fantasy that somehow the issues would magically go away if we tried to love each other.’

‘That sounds amazing! Yes! Oh, it’s so nice to see you. How are you?’

The two women started to recount the events of the past few months. They hadn’t seen each other due to the stresses of everyday life, but whenever they met, it felt like a day hadn’t passed. Yulia was finishing her master’s thesis in physics, whilst Lizzy had been exploring the trials of juggling fulltime work and studying business.

19-24 theory.

Chris’ family went through that nasty divorce, and he had to play middleman for his parents. God Katie. Katie lost her mum at 21.’ Yulia said passionately. She started swirling a lone dumpling around her plate to distract herself. ‘And us.’ Lizzy glumly stated, staring down at the plate between them. ‘I mean, I’m not sure we had it that bad, but the toxic relationships we both had. And my constant depression. I wasn’t sure I’d make it to 22.’ ‘I’m glad you did.’ ‘Same’, she said with a chuckle. Lizzy started to stare off to the side of them, looking at the other patrons in the ‘It’srestaurant.unfair,’Lizzy

said, staring at an older couple eating ‘We‘Hm?’were so young.’ She turned back to look at Yulia eating the dumpling she had been playing with. ‘We were barely 20. That’s too young to go through all that. It’s unfair.’ ‘Isn’t it just life?’ ‘All my younger friends seem to be going through similar issues now too.’ Lizzy asserted, ‘I don’t know what to say to them! Obviously I don’t want them to make the same mistakes, but how else will they learn? They go through all this pain, trying to figure out how to live.’ She fell back into her chair and crossed her arms. ‘The drama and chaos. It just-!’ She gasped. Yulia looked at her bewildered. Leaning forward eagerly, she looked Yulia in the eyes, ‘I have a theory. An ‘Everyone‘Goobservation!’on.’”in their early 20’s goes through these hellish experiences. They must. It changes them. It makes them who they are.’ Lizzy said with excitement and a sparkle in her eyes. ‘It’s always between the ages of 19 – 24. They go through a parental divorce, someone dying, a toxic relationship…whatever it is. Something big. They feel the weight of the world on themselves, and everything feels so uncertain! But how can it not? They know nothing else like it! The depression, the madness! But the intensity only lasts till around 24. After that, I think it feels less heavy.’ Lizzy looked off into the distance. Filled with joy in this moment, yet she seemed to drift somewhere else.

Lizzy shifted her eyes down and slowly started to speak, ‘Can you tell me about black holes again? And your research?’ She said, forcing the conversation to shift away from the pain brewing in her chest.

Lizzy turned to her, ‘There isn’t anything we can really do with this information is there? We realise it now, but it’s too little too late.’ She said with a smile and the two women laughed. ‘Do you think I’m right? Do you think it gets better? Do you think we’ve escaped it now? Things won’t get as bad as before?’ Lizzy asked Yulia with a hopeful tone, almost like she was trying to convince herself.

Lizzy’s lips quivered, showing a sense of vulnerability and doubt. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t find the words.

‘Is everything okay? You know you can always tell me.’

Yulia smiled at her, ‘It’s very true isn’t it? It’s probably because we’re still in this limbo. We don’t know what we’re doing, yet we think we know everything and can do anything.’

‘I don’t know. I hope so? We’ve both changed so much. Surely it won’t get that bad again.’ Yulia said reassuringly from across the table.

In case I ever turn against you Tear out your spine with my teeth You sleep with your legs sheltering

Naturally, this hints at a romance gone wrong, maybe? The interesting ones are usually filled with longing, or just Authenticitymisery. is iffy, I mention a dream and that’s the single truth here. I’ve reconstructed myself as violent, which mixes in with weakness. Who am I appealing to here? I mostly just like the idea of women with knives. How someone actually knowing you comes with the lovely fear they will destroy the rocky confidence you were standing on, with a few choice words. Apparently, people in love won’t do this to each other? Seems unlikely, points to me for realism.Aw. Considering this is meant to be a song, this should be the chorus. So, I repeat it several times. And probably change up the order. Would definitely be belted after falling to my knees, for the drama.

It’s unfinished, which is apt because I can’t play an instrument and don’t have a band. I don’t know, join my band?

I dream your hands search my skin For where it’s thin and tuck that knowing away To where you hide a knife

Andminehalf of me feels like I’ve given in If I wake up warm Press a kiss to your collar, wish to the bone I thought I’d hate you for seeing me like this

dissectionWordsbyLaurenShallow

Often in the early hours

The men embrace. Finn rests his forehead on Bran’s collarbone. Fingers run across scalp and through hair root. Blonde becomes blood red. Hearts thump and are tied together. Bran looks at the hero’s thumb; Finn at the bard’s severed toe. Thoughts connect to the beat: Remember Antarctica. We found it. Underneath the permafrost. The Giant Squid. Encased in ice. Remember Antarctica. Frostbite. The toe left behind. Tacklewire. Cut. Choked. Cast. Flesh. Purpled. Lowered through the fishing hole. Bloodbait. You evolved. Because I ate... Tacklewire. Fat. Heartfat crawled up the line. Gelatinous. Sticky. Heavy. 30

Torchlight cuts through smoke. Light blades a short length of tacklewire Bran has tugged around his knuckles. He uses it to bleed a mackerel. Zig-zagging through an artery underneath the head. Fresh blood spits out and dribbles across old cuts in the rock. Finn looks at his thumb beating. Blood unable to coagulate beneath bandage. Pressure. Decapitation. Bran hooks the bled head to a rod and packs the tool onto the back of the boat rocking on the shore. Hobbling back to the rock, he then presses both hands into the pooled blood.

Bran stands heelbalanced on the beach. Boot crushing decomposed dead fish and sand. Sinking. Something in the ocean had massacred thousands of fish last night. It reeks of fermentation. Lemonmould. Beer. Sauerkraut. Corpsespeckled waves fizzle on coastline rock, leaving behind mangled carcasses. Finn sits out at sea on the tugboat. He has a windbeater chinzipped and a thumb in the mouth. Dummysucking. Blonde locks curl shadow over his brow. Finn can sense the sea through radar pulses throbbing up onto the breast of his finger. Sealife. Heartbeats. Pump, pump, pu-pump. Bran whistles to him through a gap in his top front teeth. Soundwaves bound seaward. Pitch crescendos comic then tumbles tragic; comedy and tragedy combined create a heroic theme. Finn hears the melody composed to him as though through a seashell. It is distant. He can taste blood. Not of the dead fish. Thumbblood. There’s a large heart underneath him. Pulse large enough to thump his thumbflesh torn. It echoes through his mouth. He can feel it beat through to the soft flesh at the back of his head. For a moment he becomes disoriented. Heartbeat confused with another heartbeat. Oscillation. Wobble. See-saw. Vibration. Something sizable has been slaughtering the fish. It muscles out every other heartbeat. In its presence he cannot even feel Bran. He looks back at the musician mouthing notes at the edge of the beach; the giant’s heartbeat threatens to smother him in rushing blood.

Bran teeths a handtorch. Finn sucks tobacco through a short cigarette, cross-legged on the sand, sat next to a large rock that Bran is stood over. Sea erosion has sculpted the rock to the rounded rectangular shape of a fishmonger’s bench.

imageryGraphicWARNING:CONTENTTENUTO

Finndecapitated.coughs

blood. The heartbeat bashes ocean pressure against him. He fumbles a hand through an assorted school of dead fish. Bone peeks out through his mangled thumb fat. Spraying blood, thumping. Beyond, the giant squid now encompasses everything peripheral. An amalgam of human and sea creature flesh bandage a part-exposed and infected heart. Fatglued. The creature throbs in excessive pain. Each beat spraying Bran’s severed head in bloodink. Finn uses the last of his strength to cut a path to the head. The closer he gets, the more encompassing the heartbeat becomes. Each beat causes muscle seizure. Finn manages to wrestle control in every other stroke. Soon, he wades before him. There, hugging forehead to forehead, he bubbles a funeral song for them both. One deep, sombre, and mournful.

Tentacles of fat. We never should have... It had been resting, peaceful.... It has come for us. Remember Antarctica - Anxious heartbeat overloads the connection. Finn sobcoughs as Bran stands up and goes back to the rock. Clutching onto the eroded edge for balance, Bran cuddles his forehead into the blood dye. Finn and Bran seat themselves on the open back of the boat. Legs hanging over the turbulent ocean. One sat behind the other. Embracing. Bodywarmth. Through cut-engine silence they hear the monster’s heart knock beneath them. Finn trembling casts out the fish head. The bait briefly bounces along the scum of the sea before breaking the surface into submersion. Bran puppets the fisherman’s arms to keep them steady. Resting a chin on his nylon-clothed shoulder. Mouth puckered, Bran continues the song from before. To the tempo of the whistle Finn breathes diaphragm deep, decelerating his pulse to the same pace. The line straightens out. Weight tugs his wrists to the water. The creature has been hooked. Finn heaves the reel handle forward and around. Bran’s melody rumbles to a lower octave, somewhere between a hum and a whistle. It takes the strength of both men to push the next rotation. Hooked fat splashes out beneath them. Fingerwriggling. It snatches control of the line. Rodhandle torn from Bran. Midair. Curling. Finn is brought along into the red sea. Before plunging, he hears constriction around the windpipe. Maceration of the melody to a hard choke. Bran

RowseBeckbyWords

Picnic Darling, you’re a basket-case worth packing; my beba, my angel, my ‘just in case I live another day worth living’. My darling lives alight with bubblegum smiles, Teeth packed neatly, chipped politely. Worn like a wooly jumper, you’re charmingly fraying, Armed with a picnic basket you made just for me, Your darling, a basket-case worth packing. Words by Sienna Sulicich

It was nothing more than a green tracksuit, with a smile from the lips only. My sternum frozen under chartreuse velour, while waves licked the shore clean. Picking at my nail polish, cracked and chipping, they cried a cold sob, their face smushed into unkind shoulder, the silence tangible and unsweet.

Words by Sienna EnoughSulicich

August nights did not bite as hard as those in July, but the last month of winter was just as desperate to make us miserable. I was convinced it was raining, but it seemed that a chill mist had descended, settling onto my skin, delicate and damp. I had expressed that perhaps it was unwise to visit an outdoor light show in a time when the temperature was unlikely to surpass ten degrees, but I was informed it ‘added to the atmosphere’. Yes, I suppose on some level the icy air encouraged a sort of romantic ambience, that flirtatious wind spinning circles ’round us till we drew close. Our cold breaths turned warm where they met. I tried my best to tolerate the cold, but I couldn’t do much to hide my poorly suppressed, pig-like sniffles and nose complaints. It seemed I ruined the intimacy of winter nights.

First, we entered a bright, fiery structure shrouded by hand-picked and strategically-placed greenery, a small nature tunnel. I couldn’t tell if it was artificial; if that fresh, dewy smell drew from the surrounding oaks and myrtles, or the diamond-shaped leaves dripping above me. The smoke machine was almost unnecessary, given the damp fog that swayed at our feet and ascended, with the smoke, above our heads. My sight turned white, and I was forced to remove my glasses.

The Winter Lights

‘Too foggy for you?’ my partner asked. I wasn’t sure if his patronising tone was intentional. ‘No, it’s fine,’ I responded. ‘It’s nice.’ He nodded, pressing his lips together and glancing away. I watched him stroll forward absentmindedly, the subtle changes in fluorescence causing a gleam in his eyes. Amorous couples lit by small spotlights dotted the walkway. We passed them on our way through further exhibits. I am always a lingering step behind. We came to a path flanked by dozens of towering trees, all of which were adorned with scattered spots of warm light that shot out thin beams; like distant, dancing stars with a thousand tails. Like some distorted vision. Hypnotising and magnetic.

Words by Alessia Lelli 34

A slight pang rang through me— I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t necessarily want him to leave, not really. But I was fine on my own, though it had been a while. I was intrigued at the idea of an independent experience. ‘No, you go ahead. I’m going to hang back for a second.’ Andrew nodded, again, and strolled ahead. I turned back to the stars. There was something almost unsettling about the crimson-pink backdrop, but I was too dumbfounded to think critically. I was enchanted. I looked down at my scuffed boots, my ankles twisted awkwardly as I stood alone in the wandering crowd. I shifted against the gravel, making way for passers-by, listening to small fragments of hushed conversation over their scraping feet. I noticed how the fluorescent lights illuminated their vapourised breaths. Perhaps this tickling chill did amplify the atmosphere. Even the moon, just a slim crescent, was smiling and lustrous. It felt just as out of reach as these twinkling bulbs, somehow. Just as transcendental. As I ambled beneath the glow, that faraway orchestra heavy in my chest, I imagined a fantastical world beyond home. I thought of the mystic woods of A Midsummer Night’s Dream— without the chaos, of course; only the magic. I could almost see those Athenian faeries flitting between the trees. A tingling desire filled my blood, caught in my throat. I wanted to be Ielsewhere.wanttobe taken away, transformed and transported to whatever faraway world was waiting inside that blinding white. Let it engulf me and fly me away, warm in its incandescent embrace. Let me be an untouchable light high in the trees, winking at the bewitched masses, pouring down on their skin, eternally.

‘I can barely see,’ Andrew squinted at the glaring branches. ‘Too bright for you?’ I quipped. He huffed, barely looking at me. ‘I’m going to go ahead. You coming?’

BROWN FUR

Look at me while you write that prescription. You said “I could be so… If only I-” Here, you have managed to fillet me, Salmon pink meat and bones to choke on. So, look at me. Little gods upturned in my lined palms, I can’t show you anything. I sit myself in empty rooms. I steal lovely things from myself, and it works Sometimes it works, and that’s enough, I stumble forward. Tell my friends I’m sorry that I curl up and call it comfort, they are angry and right, I find it easy to be alone. I didn’t realise I was taking from them too. And that I interrupt them, that I am currently interrupting them, to tell them so, And that I will always be pressing sorrys into them.

But the Scottish doctor listened to me, And I have good words now, ISymptoms,amcommunicating to you with symptoms rather than empty hands. I am holding my dear, worn heart, whispering I know why you haven’t, haven’t.

Words by Lauren Shallow

Words by Sebastian

On the shark’s snout, he gives a pat

Andout’ brings the Cat not only prawns, but a big juicy trout ‘Thank you,’ says the Cat

fox and cat

The Fox yawns Then says that she has a craving for prawns

Just the sight of them brings moisture to his Soonchops.they’ll become his partner’s scat. The cat goes to snatch them, but out comes a farmer. He goes to bludgeon the cat, like he’s Jeffery Dahmer

The Fox and the Cat sat waiting Waiting, waiting, they started debating Whether to continue, which was most Orboringgoback to their motel, and catch the bus tomorrow morning

‘I’m a bit hungry’, grumbles the fox. To the cat, who gets off his ass. ‘If you desire food then food you shall get.’ And he disappears into the grass. The cat searches, before finding a box. Inside, a bunch of grapes, purple and fat.

My wife craves prawns for their sweet

‘You saved my life!” ‘Of course I did. I love you, stupid!’ Cat gives many snuggles and nuzzles to his Andwife.they make love on the road, most Theysecluded.then feast on the grapes Having worked up an appetite From the lovemaking, and their daring escape grapes

In the water, murky and dark ‘Shark, could you do me a favour?’

A fox and a cat sit together. Waiting beside the road. The ride, to arrive, is taking forever. The ride that will take them home.

Swimming around is a fat shark

Even though some prawns are about to meet their end prawns

Theflavourshark says ‘I’d be happy to help you

‘Get away from my grapes… yer filthy pussy!’ But the cat dodges, then bites him on the bussy. Not taking the bite to the anus in jest He grabs the cat by the scruff of the neck “Ow! Dammit you, filthy pest! For that I’ll make your spine a wreck!” But then comes the fox, seeing her love in Sheneed.bites the farmer’s dick, making him Whilebleed. he howls in pain like an enraged ape. Cat and fox run off with the grapes.

Goes off to see that her belly becomes full He soon comes across a lake But realizes jumping in might be mistake

The cat, her lover most dutiful

‘There’s nothing more important than everyone being friends’

Andrew 37

“Are you like the girls in the book too? Because I think I am.”

The story is set during a tumultuous period in American history. The Red Scare campaign placed all Americans under the threat of accusations of communism. As China came under Communist control, ChineseAmericans in particular faced increased suspicion, and risk of deportation. The practice of McCarthyism was still prevalent in fostering a societal fear of the ‘other’from communists to homosexuals. Though

LAST NIGHT AT THE CLUBTELEGRAPHLASTNIGHTATTHETELEGRAPHCLUBBYMALINDALOWordsbyLouiseJackson

Lily Hu has her sights set on space travel, but her feet are planted firmly in San Francisco Chinatown, 1954. The Telegraph Club is an answer to a question. When Lily walks into the lesbian bar with Kathleen Miller, she’s exposed to a whole new world, a world that seems very far from home.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club depicts Lily’s complicated experience with coming of age. Her two identities clash together during a period that was hostile to both individually. She is the only Chinese person in the Telegraph Club, yet also struggles to reconcile her life in Chinatown with her sexuality. She is obsessed with space travel and dreams of following in her aunt’s footsteps as a ‘computer’ at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. This is not a normal path for a girl. There is no space, that is holistically welcoming to Lily. She must fight for her right to exist in each of them.

Importantly, while Lily is not spared from the cruelty of her time, neither is her story one of abject, hopeless tragedy – Lo does not play on the reader’s emotions simply for the sake of creating the ‘big gay tragedy’ narrative we’re so used to.

There is no question that this is a slow book. Lo takes her reader on a trip back in time and the pace reflects that. But Lo provides insight into so many historical experiences, those of 50s drag kings and white sapphics, and Lily’s coming-of-age as a Chinese-American lesbian. Some chapters take the reader even further back, to explore the history of Lily’s family and the experience of the Chinese population in America through the eyes of Lily’s parents and aunt.

Senator McCarthy was losing public and political favour by the time of Lily’s story, the fear remained ingrained in 50s culture. By 1954, homosexuals had been granted the legal right to public assembly in California, proliferating the bar scene.

But homosexuality remained classified as a psychological disorder and ‘homosexual activity’ was still illegal. Lily’s trips to the Telegraph Club take place under the constant threat of the police crackdown on such activity. Lo is an incredibly gifted worldbuilder.

The research that has gone into this book is intense and thorough. It feels as if you’re reading a story written in the 50s. This does of course come with a warning –the book is rough. No nasty aspect of the time-period is sugar-coated. For a person like Lily, the 1950s spelled danger at every turn. While it’s a devastating time, I enjoyed the insight the story provided. So often we, and our media, look back on the past with rose-tinted glasses and a bestcase-scenario approach. Lo confronts the harsh reality that so many of the ‘others’ of society have faced. Last Night at the Telegraph Club is a necessary glimpse into the threat that came with being different.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club is a truly exquisite novel – Lo blends fiction and historiography with an expert touch. I learnt so much more than I expected to. For my fellow history nerds, Lo even includes nine pages of research summaries into various historical contexts at the end of the book. After so much effort was put into burying them, stories like Lily’s are not ones that often see the light of day –but they are so very important. Last Night at the Telegraph Club is an immensely detailed look into the clashing identities of Lily Hu. It is an important reminder that Lilys have always existed and that their stories will not be erased from our history.

Words by Grace Atta I’m terrified that I loved you. That our late nights on the phone were love letters sent across state lines. That your picture made my heart race because it was telling me to start running to you. Maybe I’d catch a glimpse of your smile. My eyes were the lens to the camera in my mind, that stored all the little, incomplete memories. Half-real, half-romanticised moments from months of replaying a look I never thought I was worthy to have. What is even more frightening is the thought of not knowing that deep, heavy, lightness again. I used to float in an ocean dragging me to whatever shore you decided to reside on. Some days, I found myself on a jetty or at the top of a lighthouse, squinting against the wind. You were gone. Every time. Only footprints on the sand left for me to trace, with reaching shrivelled fingertips and a body that should have drowned three weeks in. But you would call for me again. A booming voice through stadium speakers. A crowd of 7 billion people, and you would ask for me by name. I have learned not to blame myself for the times I responded the way I did. Acting as if I was a coat on a hanger, just waiting to be put on by you. Let me tell you the true terror of this world. Are you ready? If you teach a person that love is to be earned – to be taken away faster than it was ever given – they will spend the rest of their lives trying to deserve it. They will look for butterflies. And what’s wrong with butterflies? Well they’re not really butterflies. They are bees that sting and make you swell with hives; hives that fill your throat with cement when you ask them why you are not enough. Why isn’t this love? Why do I feel so uneasy? Like the drop of an elevator going three floors down. The blurry nausea of a rollercoaster on its second up and around. Like the sway of a boat in crashing waters on a blissfully warm summer day. I discovered I feel this way because this is not really love. This is the fear of not being loved. And yet I’m terrified…that I will never learn what love is. What is love?

what is love?

A list of books and music that would love to be your new personality trait, obsession, or escape from reality.

The Poppy War | R F Kuang So, I started off June in a reading slump, mostly because I was attempting to enjoy gorgeouslywritten but extremely sad books right after exams. I honestly bought this book for the pure joy of buying something BUT The Poppy War blew me away. The novel’s protagonist, Rin, is a war orphan desperate to escape her situation, the only option available to her is passing the Keju, a notoriously hard exam, wherein the top percentage are admitted to the Sinegard, a military academy. The author R.F Kuang grounds the fantastical elements like, shamanism (calling down the gods), in factual history, and Rin’s country, the Nikara empire, is clearly inspired by China. A warning, the story does not shy away from the reality of war, (instances of genocide, drug use, sexual assault are prevalent). Kuang’s research background means the political intrigue, classism, racism, and traumatic events of the story are well researched, written, and graphic. So you’re: interested in politics, a well written war novel, military academy, rivalry, parallels to modern Chinese history, an anti-hero protagonist, gods interacting with humans? Oh good, devour this one then. Wolf by Wolf | Ryan Graudin This novel is also inspired by real-world events, but instead asks how the world would look if the Nazis won World War II. The protagonist, Yael, survived and escaped a concentration camp, yet not before

Words byShallowLauren

consumed.bookstobe

This collection of short stories is the physical work of an important project that aims to describe the reality of Britain’s detention system. Each of the Tales are transcribed by a renowned writer, each who have communicated with a person experiencing detention or life as a refugee. Each author approaches the story differently, which gives the reader different points of reference, and shapes the entire system before them. The protagonists range from unaccompanied minors, long-standing British citizens whose heritage are called to question under draconian refugee policies, British lorry drivers, and many more. Yet, there are definite elements of hope within Refugee Tales, the project is one of welcome, and a stand against the British government. This novel is both extraordinary and saddening but so necessary, especially considering that many British policies are known to be directly inspired by Australia’s horrific detention processes. (There are also a lot of references to the Canterbury tales, if you’re interested, look into both to open the Tales up a bit more).

Just read this.

Two university students (Victor and Eli) are convinced there is a relationship between near-death experiences

Read if you: are interested in World War II, life or death competitions, rebellions against tyrants, rivals/lovers, sibling bonds.

enduring horrific human experimentation that left her able to shape shift at will. She is part of a resistance movement driven by the singular desire to kill Hitler. However in order to kill Hitler Yael must impersonate a former victor, infiltrate and win the Axis Tour, a motorcycle tour from Germany to Tokyo, wherein the winner is crowned by Hitler himself. Yet, Yael did not account for the presence of other riders with a vendetta against the woman she’s pretending to be.

Vicious | V E Schwab

Refugee Tales edited by David Herd & Anna Pincus

and the supernatural. They are arrogant, brilliant and determined to recreate the events on themselves…with mixed success. Years later, Victor escapes prison with revenge against the former golden-boy best friend who put him there. This same friend, Eli, is determined to eradicate every other super-powered person alive. It’s a race to the bottom, who can destroy the other first and what’s left afterward?

You want: morally grey characters, science induced superpowers, found family, friends to enemies.

| Mary H K Choi Yolk follows Jayne as she moves aimlessly around New York, studying a degree she is only moderately interested in, when her sister, June, walks back into her life. June abruptly announces that she has cancer and expects no emotional support from Jayne but needs her college health insurance to afford medical treatment. The sisters have a difficult relationship, caused by June’s overbearing, mother-like role in Jayne’s childhood, while their parents, still in Texas, worked tirelessly in the family restaurant. Warning, Jayne suffers from extremely low self-esteem, which manifests as an eating disorder and informs her often destructive choices. You’re going to enjoy if you like: siblings who love each other but struggle to like each other, healing family relationships, city vs. rural lifestyle.

| Lily King Casey is a writer stumbling through her first novel, a story she’s been writing for over six years. She’s grappling with the loss of her mother, the whiplash of being violently in love to ghosted in a matter of weeks, the trauma her father left her with, working hospitality while striving toward the career she wants. During this, two extremely different men walk into her life. I loved this book; King has written Casey as a character that you are genuinely interested in seeing succeed, she is the real focus on the novel, not the romances she finds herself in. Read if you like: well-written love triangles, somewhat tortured artists/writers, children growing past their parents’ harms.

Writers & Lovers

Yolk

Emily Austin

The protagonist of this novel, Gilda, is a lesbian woman who accidentally gets herself a job as a church receptionist and begins to live a double life, hiding parts of herself from her co-workers, and the rest of herself from everyone else. Simultaneously, she falls further into extreme anxiety, worries over a missing cat, and begins to question the circumstances of her predecessors death. Gilda is loveable as hell, I just wanted to give her a hug, and she’s extremely funny too. This one’s for: the overthinkers, anyone looking for a funny read that deals with death, anxiety, family and the pains of general life, people interested in church?

The Heart Principle | Helen Hoang

Do you want a: self-acceptance story, healthy romantic relationship, children moving beyond the confines of their family? If yes, read away. Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead |

Perhaps one of the best Romance books I’ve read so far, The Heart Principle follows Anna, a violinist who achieved massive success that she feels unable to replicate. After being told by her long-time boyfriend that they should go on a ‘break,’ before settling down because he thinks they both needs to experience something ‘new,’ Anna decides to reinvent herself. She downloads a dating app with the intent of having a one-night stand and meets Quan, a man who appears her opposite but continually strives to make her feel comfortable. The book is the third in Hoang’s The Kiss Quotient series, but I would argue each can easily be read separately due to the changing focus of the characters. Hoang is an Autism Ownvoices writer, and Anna discerns she has autism during the novel, a realisation that allows her to accept herself further. The novel deals with autistic and artistic burnout, themes of ableism and toxic familial relations.

Aniko Press is looking to publish ‘unique, exciting and challenging work by new and emerging voices.’ For those looking for an entry into the Australian lit mag scene, Aniko Press is the perfect place to get started. Keep an eye on their submissions page for the hundred word flash fiction competition they run often throughout the year. It’s a nice and easy way to get your submission numbers up.

The Saltbush Review

LITEARARYAUSTRALIANJOURNALSTOSUBMITTOWordsbyBeckRowse

Voiceworks

Aniko Press

The Saltbush Review is a digital literary journal based on Kaurna Land here in South Australia. They seek to ‘celebrate the local space of South Australia’ and ‘embrace the liminal, the marginal, and the fluid.’ They have recently released their second issue, so go show it some love!

Voiceworks is a journal created for those under the age of 25. Smelling like teen spirit, they are after ‘stylistically playful stuff, and work that blurs the boundaries between nonfiction, fiction and poetry.’ Writers are paid $100 for each successful entry.

The Suburban Review

B Bramblerambleiscurrently seeking submissions for their debut issue, publishing works by Australian disabled writers and artists. They want to ‘emphasise the importance of representing the wide scope of diversity within disability itself,’ including the unique ways individuals experience disability. They accept prose, poetry, non-fiction, script, visual art, mixed media, and photography.

The editors of The Suburban Review ‘praise creativity, adore the tonguein-cheek, and love having [their] hearts broken again and again.’ In addition to accepting submissions, they run an intern program twice a year for those interested in working in the publishing industry.

WHY SHOULDEVERYONEENGAGE WITH BLACK CREATIVES

Words by Habibah Jaghoori

It is no secret that the creative space has always been a diverse and extremely vast one. It is no secret that art is a universal phenomenon and a big reason for why humans are distinct from other species on this earth. Creativity is what has held cultures, societies, groups and individuals in safety, in adventure, in thrill, in romance, in solitude and in unity. Art and creativity are the creation of human beings in their purest and highest form and because of this it holds the power of influence. When expressed freely, art and creativity will be the wave of radical transformation, of love unbound and of healing. Art and creativity are celestial gifts that need to be valued and treated as sacred. Real art and creativity can never be commodified and will always be inherently anti-capitalist. Artists are those who don’t make art for the sake of business, but rather for the sake of expression. There is the fine line between an artist selling art to support themselves and escape the dictatorship of the bosses and a trend where art is only produced to turn a profit and instill ruling class ideals. Here lies an essential reason for the importance of art and creativity. It instills ideals into society. Art and creativity need to be cultivated as tools of resistance so they can perform their duties of healing. Which is why, everyone should engage with and consume Black art and creativity. Black art and creativity are a direct rebuttal to a capitalist and white-washed form of art and creativity. Such a form of art only exploits, manipulates, degrades and humiliates the journey of being a human being. It’s a tool used to lie about the world. Art and creativity should never be a privilege reserved for upper class folk, as it is currently within capitalist culture. In a capitalist world where freedom is not free, where love and healing have been nullified, where human nature has been harassed and distorted, Black art and creativity has been the radical shield and the prevailing fightback. Indigenous and Black cultures and communities have used their art to heal, to connect, to teach, to empower and to change the hearts of people. It has never been used for vanity or wealth. This is why engaging with it is like taking medicine. Engaging with and consuming such works means coming back to one’s core, nurturing one’s inner child, tending to the soul’s wounds and gearing up one’s mind and heart. It means experiencing love in the fashion of Theresilience.creative works of black artists such as Audre Lorde, Yrsa Daley-Ward, Toni Morrison, Neiel Israel, Jasmine Mans, Manal Younus, Aza Ismail and Chris Best are political because they speak the truth. They defy their tyrants. They point out racial oppression and they bring shame to it. But their art, in whatever form, is so beautiful that it hurts. The works of these artists have awakened people. Engaging with Black art and creativity is a political act. It’s a defiance to the system. It’s an act of love.

i stand on the edge of the world every Wednesday, blowing bubbles with spit and wondering what time my mind will tug awake.

i often look into my eyes and the hurt palpitates. i kiss her on the cheek. hugging her until it all makes sense. the fear of people and the things they say it’s not their fault but it lingers all the same. my meaning and their meaning is more than taunted screams; I wish i could tell her the pain made me somebody close to something, oneday. people come and go, love being carried in the wind, but my pleasure is temporary in wake of stable morning kisses and bitey, early, coffees. all the meaning i thought was worthy is nothing like what i thought it would bei miss the reactionary viciousness of ups and downs, when i found meaning in my own stupidity and naive misdemeanours, stumbling as a child in a world not built to be perceived. i know more mistakes await through love and lost weaning and fleeting in life’s short journey, kissing me on the forehead, yearning for stability... boredom and stillness mending my broken pieces. i know my meaning has changed, now pain is manageable, time feels quicker, evil looms nearer.. but sometimes I miss you, entertained in the loneliest of places dreaming of a million possibilities and strangers, lost in the pinks of a flower, eyeing ants on its stem, consumed with the fleeting moment of forever, unaware of the monster in the corner, tainting meaning with its fingers. i stand on the edge of my own world on a Thursday night, imagining myself looking over the blissful fields i’ve yet to see, wandering through mountains and goodness from a world lost, exhaling into the abyss of capitalism and the monster i wouldn’t want 10-year-old me to breathe.

i’ve seen people be consumed with ecstasy, it taunts me, what world awaits behind their eyes when they scream God’s name, does she construct my meaning and the lines in my head?

am i religious, an atheist, or a man lost at sea, desperately trying to cling onto any fucking meaning? when my rabbit died and vanilla ice cream tasted the same, tears were a warm embrace, winter lulled me to sleep and conversations drew dust of meaning, the worthiness of a rabbit, my friend…the way the world constructs hierarchy.

i stand on the edge of

WordsmeaningbyChanelTrezise

JungJennybyWords 48

A dream of snow - I am winded by its striking bareness.

How long had it been since I last felt snow on my face, beneath my feet? I savoured the biting cold - it is a privilege to feel Lastpain.night I followed my wretched thoughts into my head and I let myself drift within a dream. I opened the door to a blank world, light searing my eyes. Was it an untouched utopia, pure as an infant, or a world left neglected and forgotten, snow piled on the trees as if catching dust - a new beginning, or a reminder of a gutting emptiness within? A light which reveals can also Iblind.thought

snowofdream

I was alone until I heard myself speak“Look, snow!” Have you been here all this time? Silently, a gust of fine snow laps at my feet. I awoke to a painful sameness. Yet somewhere within me I felt an uncertainty looming, knotting at the stomach - Where will you take me? Have I been here all along? My stomach lurched at the familiar strangeness of my own flesh. Faintly, I spoke your name into the still air.

Open Water, Caleb Azumah Nelson every person I’ve seen who has read this raves about it, about two Black British creatives who fall in love, a short but probably gorgeous read.

books i haven’t readyet

A Man Called Ove,BackmanFredrik sounds cute, about a grumpy old man, reminds me of UP because of said man.

Words by Lauren Carmilla,ShallowJoseph

Sheridan Le Fanu heralded as the O.G. vampire story, before Dracula, but with women instead, sounds like a bit of me. I Who Have Never Known Men, Jacqueline Harpman have been TRYING to find this and failing, I got told it’s kind of out of print? I don’t know. About 40 women kept isolated from society, imprisoned, and guarded by strange men, and then I assume, from the blurb, they’re released without explanation and expected to acclimatise.

LUNATICWordsbyAlessiaLelli 50

Something malleable that moves taut, or that frays with fire. And the water is so salty I may very well float. She believes— I believe— that proof cannot be made in death. So what if they chase me? I shouldn’t be expected to give up the night. I am nocturnal. They think the moonlight makes me ill, pulling the tides and pulling the swamp to me. Why else would a woman be where the bad men like to loiter? But it is not a man that I look for. I dance with someone much greater.

I felt at the flounce of my dress, damp at my fingers and blackened with barely rinsed muck. I suppose I wandered a little last night… must they see me when my behaviour is most questionable?

‘They said your eyes were moonlight white, and you muttered maledictions. Your robes were disgraced today too…’

‘Like the spinster on the old road? So profane… was she?’ I feel my heart lurch. ‘Directing suspicion to deter suspicion. I did nothing wrong.’ And keep it down, you thoughts. The peeking neighbours will be my doom. I bite further down. Has self-proclaimed innocence ever beaten a rope or a flame?

Diamond eyes with a dozen views, all of them me, distorted, demonic— of course I seem peculiar when inspected through sparkling fog, my name whispered on their hungry serpent tongues. I know my hate manifests as sweeping rashes along my skin. I know they want to see it burn. That bloody backlash. The screaming, spectacled woman paraded through the street, the torch fire spitting on me too. And so what if my magic is not like theirs? They have their God and I have mine. They feast on their roasted green gardens, and I bite straight into that fresh mare— But I am still good. I have done very few indecent things.

‘Aren’t I as modest as the next good woman?’ I ask aloud. Aren’t my manners so proper that my peculiarity is erased? Look into my sweet brown eyes… aren’t I so conventional? I have that seeming innocence that any man would love to ensnare and tear into ribbons. And I feel those snakes slithering behind me as I trek back to my overgrown hovel.

I rise at dawn to drown my figure in white fabrics, or as close a colour I can get. I haven’t washed my clothes in weeks, what with the raised brows and shared looks of apprehension at the wash-house. Instead I carry lavender in my pockets to craft a sweet smell. I plucked it from that old widower’s home, fusing it with my own garlic to expel unwanted energies. I believe burning herbs would cause further suspicion, so I pulverise and coalesce and boil and keep my concoctions discreet. I undercook my sweets out of fear that the scent of singed apples would galvanise the superstitious.

‘What superstitious folk?’ I hear our voice. ‘The commoners who saw you meandering through the muck at the witching hour?’

So, I did walk through that mire? The one with all the trolls— the wet moss sunken in then pushed out with their sleeping breaths; deep belches that spit up toads and fish. They sit in soil like grime in teeth. That beautiful green and gentle mud.

our bodiesour bodies When I think of bodies I think of free arms reaching for the sky and feet unsheathed moving from heel to toe on soil I think of backs leaning on backs and hands palm to palm of fingers entwined and hair untied in my mind they arewhoselandformsshadows move at the wake of the sun ants carrying a weight heavier than their own they areandsnapthatstructuresscratchsear and yet recover and renew through healing pain that bodies bare our souls in crinkled smiles rogue freckles on chests and veins that stain our skin the heaven we have in soft sensationsandstrength we carry in the bruising of abrasions when I think of bodies I think of hope as we grasp for greater and humilityinthe grounding of age’s gravity our bodiesourbodiesWordsbyGraceAtta 52

April - Armlock Safety - Kat Edwards Colin - Blue Honey Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat - Del Water Gap Bunny Is A Rider - Caroline Polachek Town’s Dead - Kojaque Impossible - Wasia Project PoolVampireSamiaWeeknight - Jenny Owen Youngs Here’s the Thing - Sports Team Singing Blackbird - Adam Newling Yuk Foo - Wolf Alice When the Moment Comes - Mia Dyson one life, might live - Little Simz When We’re in Fitzroy - Gretta Ray Liberty Belle - Fontaines D.C. Rattlesnake - Jack Van Cleaf Waiting Room - Phoebe Bridgers Rubberneckers - Christian Lee Hutson Coolest fucking bitch in town - Haley Blais War - IDLES (bonus: Beachland Ballroom is also something I like to shout along to). A PlaylistA ByPlaylistLaurenShallow 53

‘Where are your license plates, sir?’ ‘Had them stolen a few nights ago. Damn kids.’ Dad forces a laugh. ‘Sir, please step outside the vehicle. We need to check your papers. Matthews! Come search the car! This won’t take a moment, sir.’ The look Dad gives me as he turns to unbuckle his seatbelt makes me feel Wequeasy.reached the begging man safehouse almost two weeks ago. The contact there gave us the verbal heading for the next waypoint. Then the next. And the next. No one will tell me how long the Path is (perhaps no one truly 54

completelyawayfadetohow

Your eyes are perfect round discs of blue. Your blue eyes didn’t come from us, though. Brown has always run strong in our family, so they must have come from him. I will always find it impossible to understand that something so innocent and so full of joy and life could be born of such cruelty and hate. Blue suits you though, much more than brown ever would have. We have been on the move for nearly a week now, traveling the abandoned roads and empty fields of old Wyoming. The years of wildfires and neglect have turned what once was open grass and farm land into arid tundra. There are a few green pockets left, but for the most part the landscape has been reduced to a dusty, barren scar. When the Hand of the Divine seized control of the western states they made sure little east of their new holy kingdom remained. Early reports estimated that nearly fifteen hundred miles of land had been scorched, stretching as far north as Montana and south as New TheyMexico.nicknamed it the Belt. A near uninhabitable no man’s land separating the Kingdom of New America from whatever remains of the free east. At the checkpoint Dad slows the car to a stop. I’m in the backseat. My backpack is on the seat next to me. There’s a man outside who’s approaching Dad’s side of the car. Mum whispers something to Dad while shaking her head. Dad makes some motion with his right hand that stops her from talking. She wipes a damp sleeve across her eyes. Then Mum turns to put a hand on my knee. She smiles and there are tears hanging from the corners of her mouth. They’ve made her makeup run so that she looks like some insane clown and not my mother. I flinch away from her, the wrong thing to do.

Mum hiccups as she tries to slow her breathing. ‘It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.’ She chokes on the words. I don’t know what to do so I just nod. The man knocks on Dad’s window. His uniform looks military with long white robes on the outside that go almost to the ground. Dad’s window lowers. The man pushes his head inside the car to look at Mum and me. Mum’s shaking. His voice is polite and steady as he says, ‘Utah is now under the control of the Hand of the Divine of the Great Kingdom of New America. You are not permitted to leave at this time. Please turn your vehicle around, sir. Thank ‘We’reyou.’ just passing through. We don’t live in Utah, you see. We’re visiting from further out east,’ Dad lies. I know something wrong is happening but I don’t know what it is. Adults always think they’re protecting you when they keep information to themselves, but really they just make you feel more helpless and afraid. The man steps away from the car, checks the front, then the back.

Both heat and colour have been sapped from the earth. I make sure it is safe before I go to wake you. ‘The world never used to be this way,’ I whisper as I pick you up. ‘I promise the world used to be different.’

knows). It was never confirmed how far east the burning went. We call it a Belt, but who knows how wide that belt is? Each waypoint on the Path seems to take us on an ever more winding route to supposed freedom. Sanctuary. An escape from the control of the Divine. I look up at the stars. One nice thing about the end of the modern world is that all of the stars have come back. You’re sleeping right now. I take this time to rest. I lower myself gently and prop myself against a flat rock. I look at the sky. I look at Sometimesnothing. I think I could just lay down and let the dirt take me in. I could close my eyes and slow my breath and just fade away completely into the earth. No one would miss me. It would be so easy. It would be so easy to just disappear. I’d return to the land. Dissolve to nothingness. Then I look at you again. Your impossibly soft skin. Your chubby little arms and hands. You sneeze and it wakes you. I sigh. I remind myself again why I am doing this. Who I am doing it for. Outside the military man has us all lined up with our backs against the car. I can see an orange glow in the sky above Mt Aire to the east. The man called Matthews is going through the car, throwing bags on the ground. I thought Mum would be upset by this, but she just looks terrified. ‘Hey! Kid! Back against the car!’ I obey. The military man has his hand on a pistol. I can see now that as well as his white robes, he also has a crucifix printed on the front of his helmet. The orange glow is getting stronger. ‘Hey Maz, I think I found something,’ Matthews says, coming over to show the robed soldier the small metal box in his hand. It’s the one from the shed. I hear Mum and Dad take a sharp breath in at the same time. Maz takes the box, turns it over in his hand. ‘Looks like we have a couple of insurrectionists here. Load them up for the labour camps.’ As they’re marching us towards the truck I see the first row of flames roll over the I’vemountainside.beguntelling you stories of what the world was like before you were born. Most of them are mine, but some are from Dad. When we were stationed in the first camp together he would sometimes lie face down on the bunk above me and whisper stories to me through the fabric mattress. I would dream the stories he told me. I never learnt what was in the box and why it got us locked up in a labour camp.

Words by Raphail Spartalis 55

I didn’t dare ask Dad and I never got the chance to ask Mum after they split us up to take her to the breeding camps. The last time I saw her was the day you were born. The plan was to save both of you but I was too late. She was too old. I found her bleeding and bruised in the birthing room slumped across the bed. They’d used her up. There wasn’t enough time to save her too. I took you that night with the promise that your future would be Thedifferent.sun’sset.

NOMINATIONS

QUERIES:

•

ON DIT EDITOR (1 position, however up to four (4) students may nominate to be joint editors) responsible for the publication of YouX student magazine which is published during academic term time. It is highly desirable that the successful candidate(s) have some knowledge of print media (if you are considering nominating, please find out what is involved).

STUDENT RADIO DIRECTOR (1 position, however up to two (2) students may nominate to be joint directors) responsible for coordinating programming, production and recruitment and management of content producers for Student Radio programs and podcasts which are hosted and broadcast online. Candidates will need to be organised, capable of working independently and confident managing a small team of students. It is highly desirable that the successful candidate(s) have knowledge of basic a udio production and recording (if you are considering nominating, please find out what is involved ).

YouX NOTICE OF 2022 STUDENT MEDIA DIRECTORS ELECTION POLLING DATES: Monday 5th September 2022 to Friday 9th September 2022 NOMINATIONS: Open at 9.00am on Monday 15th August 2022 Close strictly at 4.00pm on Friday 19th August 2022 POSITIONS AVAILABLE FOR ELECTION:

2. Nomination forms must be either: a) completed and submitted online at www.youx.org.au/voice/elections/student media or, where a candidate is unable to submit online, by contacting the Returning Officer at email returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au

If you are unable to submit your Mock Dit or photograph as above, please contact the Returning Officer at returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au to arrange an alternative method of submission.

1. Only students currently enrolled at the University of Adelaide who are financial members of the YouX may nominate.

3. A Mock Edition of On Dit for electioneering purposes (‘Mock Dit’) and photograph can be submitted, if desired, by email or through a file hosting service nominated by the Returning Officer.

• No Mock Dit or photographs will be accepted after close of nominations. If you are unable to submit your Mock Dit or photograph as above, please contact the Returning Officer to arrange an alternative method of submission. All Student Media Director candidates will be required to attend an information session, to be held before the elections, outlining the responsibilities of a Student Media Director RECEIVED AFTER THE CLOSE OF NOMINATIONS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED Any questions concerning the Election should be directed to th e Returning Officer via returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au. Published and authorised by the Returning Officer, July 2022 Please recycle.

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NOMINATIONS

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4. All SRC candidates will be required to attend an information session, to be held before the elections, outlining candidate elec tion campaign responsibilities. RECEIVED AFTER THE CLOSE OF NOMINATIONS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED Any questions concerning the Election should be directed to the Returning Officer via returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au

OFFICER (1 position) Acts as an advocate for students studying at Waite Campus. To be eligible for this position candidates must be studying at least one subject at the university’s Waite Campus.

STUDENT REPRESENTATIVE COUNCIL NOTICE OF 2022 ELECTION POLLING DATES: Monday 29th August to Friday 2nd September 2022 OpenNOMINATIONS:at9.00am on Monday 8th August 2022 and close strictly at 4.00pm on Friday 12th August 2022 POSITIONS AVAILABLE FOR ELECTION:

2. Nomination forms must be completed and submitted online at https://youx.org.au/voice/elections/2022/ or, where a candidate is unable to submit online, by contacting the Returning Officer at email returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au

QUERIES:

MATURE AGE OFFICER (1 position) Acts to advocate on behalf of Mature Aged students. To be eligible to nominate for this position candidates must be over the age of 25. DISABILITY OFFICER (1 position) Acts on behalf of students with a disability on campus. To be eligible to nominate for this position candidates must identify as having a disability, mental illness or chronic illness.

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WAITEUniversity.CAMPUS

• No policy statements or photographs will be accepted after close of nominations.

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Published and authorised by the Returning Officer, July 2022 Please Recycle 57

3. A policy statement and photograph can be submitted, if desired, at the time of nomination at https://youx.org.au/voice/elections/2022/

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1. Only students currently enrolled at the University of Adelaide who are financial members of YouX may nominate.

• If you are unable to submit your policy statement or photograph as above, please contact the Returning Officer at returningofficer@adelaide.edu.au to arrange an alternative method of submission.

WOMEN’S OFFICER (1 position) Acts as an advocate for women’s interests, a co ordinator of women’s action on campus. To be eligible to nominate for this position candidates must identify as a woman.

SOCIAL JUSTICE OFFICER (1 position) Acts to highlight issues relating to social justice.

WELFARE OFFICER (1 position) Acts to promote the welfare of all students and to promote and strengthen support for students.

POLLING DATES: OpenNOMINATIONS:Mondayat9.00amon Monday POSITIONS AVAILABLE FOR ELECTION: supportYouXGEN and assistance to affiliated student organisations. The Board meets monthly and has various sub are expected to participate. TO NOMINATE AS A CANDIDATE: 1. Only students currently enrolled at the University of Adelaide who are financial members of age of 18 years, able to hold a liquor licence and be legally able to hold the position of a director of an incorpora 2. Nomination forms must be submit online, 3. A policy statement and photograph can be submitted, if desired, • • • 4. All Director and NOMINATIONSthe RECEIVED AFTER THE CLOSE OF NOMINATIONS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED QUERIES:Anyquestions concerning the Election should be directed to th Published and authorised by Please recycle. 58

P A R T I C I P A T E I N A C L I N I C A L T R I A L & E A R N U P T O $ 1 0 , 0 0 0 . T A X F R E E . C A L L U S O N 1 8 0 0 1 5 0 4 3 3 T O K N O W M O R E O R S C A N T H E C O D E : G E T P A I D T O C H E C K - I N & C H I L L !

Membershipwith Score your free lunch Claim your discounts Access youryoux.org.au/extrasjoinMid Year ½$20Year 2.5$55Years

Issue 90.7 - Hearsay

Articles inside

HOW TO FADE AWAY COMPLETELY

A PLAYLIST

OUR BODIES

LUNATIC

DREAM OF SNOW

BOOKS I HAVEN’T READ YET

I STAND ON THE EDGE OF MEANING

CREATIVES

BOOKS TO BE CONSUMED

TENUTO

THE WINTER LIGHTS

LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB

FOX AND CAT

BROWN FUR

WHAT IS LOVE?

EDITORIAL

DISABILI-DIT

YOUX PRESIDENT’S REPORT

19-24 THEORY

SUSTAINABILI-DIT

EDITORS’ RECOMMENDATIONS

LEFT RIGHT CENTRE

ECON-DIT