Well here we go again. To many reading this: welcome back, suckers. To the freshers who’ve dug through your hallpack of noodles, vouchers and condoms to find this glorious sample-sized Critic: kia ora, I’m glad you made it. Here’s an introduction to the gig.
For those not in the know, Critic Te Ārohi is the student-run student mag here at Otago. The elevator pitch is that we’re New Zealand’s oldest, most widely read and award-winning student mag. 2025 is a special year for this jumped up little shit of a magazine: we’re celebrating our 100th birthday! We'll be sure to act like that one self-important mate who celebrates their parent’s condom breaking for a week straight, except we’ll be annoying about it all year. The King has already been pestered about sending a letter.
Critic Te Ārohi functions a bit like the Uni’s makeshift journalism school. If you fancy giving it a go, either get in touch or simply rock up to the office. If that fails, waft a samosa from OUSA lunch towards the office and we’ll come to you. Or if you just want to employ our services and get your mug in the mag, send through news tips for us to sniff out. You’ll be surprised what piques our interest. Tip: your chances are higher if it involves shithousery and/or tomfoolery.
In recent history, the rag-tag crew of journos at Critic (dubbed the ‘Critters’) have been known to sneak into halls to review their food, interview slime monster politicians, pen scalding hot takes on the ‘proper’ way to prepare noodles, report on flooded Leith River canoers, host a dating competition, profile Six60’s former fifth band member, and investigate law-breaking law students. And there’s more where that came from.
Critic’s mumma bear is OUSA. Squint hard enough at campus and you’ll find that OUSA does a hell of a lot for students outside of hosting O-Week. Many students take their entire university careers to realise they’re more than a board of overachieving students looking to add “student advocacy” to their CVs. It’s a fully fledged organisation of passionate people eager to make your experience here the best it can be ($2 samosas included).
To all you Dunedin newbies, don’t be put out if you discover that Castle Street isn’t your vibe. Despite it being the only aspect of Dirty Dunners the media shows, and perhaps the reason many choose to study here, it represents a very small part of the student experience. If you take one piece of advice from this crusty would-be sixth year, it’s this: explore Dunedin beyond Castle Street, find your crew, join a club. Throw your weight around until something sticks.
But first, have a flick through Critic Zero and get excited for the real thing. Rip out the centrefold and stick it on your wall. Browse the local op shops with our handy zine guide. Practice your beer pong skills according to the Critic-defined handbook of rules. Familiarise yourself with your student representatives. Check which drugs not to mix and get ‘em tested. Get amped, get hype, get fizzed. Welcome to Otago University.
Chur,
Nina Brown (AKA Mrs Critic)