Something to:
Watch
University’s Cyber Security Education and Awareness Programme
Some would say you’re supposed to engage with Otago’s Security Education and Awareness Programme, but I beg to differ; watching it from the distance of my bed was more effective. Sadly, it is much more difficult to watch with your eyes closed - a revelation, I know - but seeing as I possess a modicum of common sense, I was able to pass with flying - yet secure - colours. To enhance your spectating experience, I recommend completing it on the least secure network you can find, while leaving your laptop completely unattended as you stroll leisurely around campus. Although I was hacked in the process, the only thing the hackers could find on my laptop was this piece of writing… I dare say, they won’t bother next time.
Read
Your mate's thesis
Perhaps you have a few years to go before you’re in postgrad, but you’ve got an older flatmate; or perhaps you’re travelling headfirst into thesis crunchtime, too. Whatever the case, your mate who is almost finished with their first draft (or maybe just the first draft of the first chapter) is gonna need a favour, and this is your chance to shine. If you do, your postgrad mate in question (who is probably glancing anxiously while you read it, trying to decipher your reaction) will likely be all too willing to handle the next trip to Night ‘n Day snack run. Even if you have no clue what non-Newtonian physics are or if Sally Rooney’s novels assert a post-structuralist lens on capitalism, the thesis could probably use a spell-check (or a vibe check). Even without knowing the technical details, it can be pretty helpful to read through a paragraph and tell your friend, “This makes no fucking sense at all.” Be gentle, though.
Listen To
‘If Books Could Kill’ podcast
This podcast is great if you have an annoyingly intellectual parent or relative that loves to quote Malcolm Gladwell or whatever thinkpiece they read most recently. Each episode, the co-hosts take a massively popular ‘airport book’ like Outliers, Freakonomics, The Coddling of the American Mind, The 5 Love Languages, Hillbilly Elegy, and Nudge, and they absolutely tear them apart bit by bit, exposing the nonsense within. Not recommended if you already secretly judge everyone (if you do you will probably like this podcast a great deal, I just don’t think you should).
Go To
Thailand
Fuck it, why not? It’s cold here. Thailand is warm. Cost of living is expensive here. Thailand is far cheaper. We are about to have an election and potentially elect the most conservative government in generations. Thailand just had an election and could potentially elect the most progressive government in generations. Weed is illegal here. Thailand has weed bars and cafes on every street. We don’t have monkeys. Thailand has monkeys. Need I say more?
Support
Dankfest
August 26th. The Crown Hotel. 7pm. Be there. You’ve probably seen the posters around town, with a monopoly board and a severed foot, and the names of the 14 bands from Ōtepoti and around the country that will be playing. You’ll probably want to bring ear plugs and be prepared for some very grungy and crunchy rock, but if you complain about live music in the city this is an event you can’t miss. Even if you walk away with one new local band you’re a fan of, I reckon that’s worth it. And where else can you get a weekend festival for less than a box of cruisers?
Cancel
Erectile Dysfunctioners
Someone sent in a video of this band playing at The Crown. I didn’t think it would be that bad. It was that bad. They have five albums on YouTube and I listened to parts of all of them because that’s as much as I could stand. And look, some of the actual instrumentals are okay, but literally as soon as someone opens their mouth it’s the worst fucking thing I’ve ever heard. The majority of the lyrics are the words poo and cum and then some actual human growling. That’s about it. And while I don’t want to say “stop making your art” because, y’know, power to you, I’m just saying that it sucks. If I paid to go to a gig and you guys came on and started performing these songs, I would be genuinely pissed off. If it’s a joke, it’s a bad one. So I’ll put this in words you can understand: this music is stink stink poopoo bad. No wonder you wear masks on stage.