The automated “voice of God” in Central Library, normally reserved for kicking out late night studiers at closing time, spoke up at midday on Friday, August 16th. Despite being told to leave by the tinny voice, stubborn students remained steadfast in their seats. Critic respects the dedication (or laziness, you decide which).
As one of the few to heed the voice’s call, third-year Politics student Molly confessed to Critic Te Ārohi she was spooked. “No one moved and then the lights started to flash on and off so I decided probs best to leave. Out of the probably hundred people around me only a handful also got up […] But I am a stickler for safety and if a robotic voice tells me to jump, I’ll say, ‘How high?’”
Another student on the Friday arvo study grind, Roger, said, “Most people got up, but that was just to steal the seats of the people who left […] it was pretty sporadic, no wailing or anything.” Laura said that she and a friend had “got up to go but then sat back down when we saw no one else was leaving.” Unlike Molly, very few seemed to be worried about the reason for the alarms – except for another spectator (and speculator) George who said: “Fuck that’s bad if there’s a shooting or something.”
The Uni let the cat out of the bag in an email to Critic. University Librarian Mike Wall said, “The announcement was an automated message which is usually made when the library is about to close for the day […] the announcement was unintentionally triggered by some maintenance work being undertaken in the Information Services Building [...] This has happened occasionally in the past, as it isn’t always clear that such work will trigger the announcements.”
It was George who first mused at the potential this malfunction could bring – whispering conspiratorially of a speaker take-over. “100% you could get in. It would probably take 25 people, maybe 20 depending on who you're with.” Asked for his two cents on this theory, Roger said, “You could most definitely get your playlist on the speakers. There’s probably a way of doing it in the library as well, you wouldn’t need to go all that way [to Information Services].” Another student said, “You could play it, but why would you?” Someone’s clearly a bit touchy about their guilty pleasure bangers being leaked to the public.
Of the seven individuals interviewed, seven from seven said that the ideal thing to play over the loudspeaker would be DnB. George halfheartedly suggested some Ice Spice, but overwhelmingly the choice was to get some filthy remixes blasting for all those ensconced in their study. The event spoke of a dream that could one day be realised, in what would be the most blatant case of hogging the aux of all time: jamming out on the Central Library speakers. Information Services Building, expect a kindly worded email.