Apparently the Married at First Sight New Zealand pairings are based on “match-making science,” but I think those scientists went to the same online college as whoever organises Are You The One? Claire wants a young hottie; she gets Dom, who is seven years older than her and looks like he is a mascot for biscuits on some local network advertising. Ben wants someone taller than him; he gets Aaron, who is at least an inch shorter. Lacey doesn’t want a bearded man; her new husband Luke has a beard. Bel is a vegetarian and pacifist; her match Haydn is a carnivorous wrestler. I would be lying if I said I didn’t just want to rant about my loathing of Bel from The Bachelor, though I suspect part of my problem lies in my jealousy of her attempts to hustle the New Zealand reality show circuit — a long-time dream of my own. I can only assume she has been explicitly warned not to talk about her cats, something that on the last season of The Bachelor caused Zac’s simple eyes to roll back into his simple head. Presumably after failing to win over Zac because the more he was around her the more boring he realized she was, Bel has decided to forego that whole bonding process and just skip to the wedding before anyone can do backsies. Upon first meeting, Bel and her match are beyond thrilled and can’t keep their hands off each other. Alas, they are both insufferable and are put through the honeymoon from hell where Haydn tries to placate her until he can escape.

On throwing group hens nights and stag dos for the contestants, the producers freaked out upon realising their gay couple could not both attend the stag do to maintain the “marrying a complete stranger” shtick — but who will be the bride?! That’s how it works, right? Ben is sent to a hens night, but that’s okay because he hates all men unless they look like him but taller and want to talk shit in the bathrooms — something he literally does five minutes into the wedding reception to escape poor lovely Aaron. After the ceremony, while Ben’s friend Alex does the dirty work and explains to Aaron that Ben was “just a shy person” Aaron watches Ben flit around the party and do the exact opposite. Aaron keeps trying to kiss Ben while his new husband just sort of retreats into his neck and bears it. Meanwhile, Claire and Dom are banging on every surface possible. Death is near.

I hope every single person attending these weddings was completely off their tits on Mediaworks-funded free booze, because I don’t know how else you could cope with all the regretful crying that the contestants and their families keep attempting to pass off as just being overwhelmed by the special day. According to Married at First Sight New Zealand, marriage is everything I expected and I, for one, welcome the alcohol.

Susanna: I didn’t try to kill myself.

Dr Potts: What were you trying to do?

Susanna: I was trying to make the shit stop.

— Girl, Interrupted (1999)

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is an illness marked by extreme emotional irregularity, impulsivity, an unstable sense of identity, self-harm, a pattern of volatile interpersonal relationships, intense fear of abandonment, and chronic emptiness. The lack of emotional stability and the intensity of emotions felt can lead to black and white thinking called “splitting”, with rapid idealisation and devaluation of the people around you. There is no mental object permanence applied to relationships, resulting in a need for frequent reassurance and validation, which can come across as unnecessary or emotionally demanding. People with BPD also experience high levels of empathy and are fiercely loyal and devoted to loved ones, despite being unable to apply this kindness and understanding to themselves. It is most common in women, with high levels of comorbidity with eating disorders, addiction issues, anxiety, and bipolar. The disorder is frequently genetic, but its development is exacerbated by complex and pervasive trauma and emotional abuse during childhood and adolescence, and often results in the stunting of the development of parts of the brain that process stress response, like the amygdala and hippocampus.

I was first diagnosed with BPD five years ago, after I was found sitting on the edge of a bridge in Kingsland, Auckland. After calling a crisis hotline and finding the operator despondent and patronising I hung up the call, but not before they traced my location and I was found and arrested by police several minutes later. I was held in the central city police cells for seven hours, during which I missed both doses of my medications, until I was released into psychiatric services at 5.00am under the condition I enter myself into their care for a minimum of 72 hours. This was not my first brush with suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, or hospitalisation; since childhood I have fixated on my impending death, the failure and disappointment I elicit from family and friends, and how everyone I love will leave me. At four I justified having a soft toy on my person at all times so I wouldn’t die alone. At eleven I would run into the suburban streets at night and lie in the middle of the road waiting for cars to come. After my mother found me catatonic on the window sill of my bedroom at age 16, I was made an inpatient in the youth psychiatric facility at Princess Margaret Hospital in Christchurch. Over the next four years I would make multiple attempts on my life, waking up in different hospitals to different sets of sad eyes staring at me. Professionals explained to my parents that I didn’t actually have any intention of killing myself and that these were cries for help; no one seemed to understand that I truly wanted to die, or that I felt things so much that it was like acid burning me from the inside. When I got my diagnosis it was as though I finally had all of the answers I had been looking for in life, but also like I had received a formal and inevitable death sentence. Reading that my life would be a series of inescapable self-destructive patterns would’ve made me want to sink through the floor into Hell if I didn’t feel like I was already there.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve narrowed down the two easiest ways to explain BPD to the people in my life:

1. There is no inbetween.

When a neurotypical person (someone without mental illness) experiences an emotion, i.e. happiness, sadness, anger, they experience it on a spectrum. For example: getting an average grade back on an exam could create a feeling of disappointment that for a “normal” person can be rated on a scale of 1 to 10, maybe falling at a 4. In subjects with BPD, there is no spectrum of emotion; everything is felt at its most intense level. Having to cancel dinner with a friend, and the break up of a long-term relationship, both register at a 10, if not an 11. In the words of the rapper Drake, “I go zero to a hundred real quick, real fucking quick.” This is applicable for any emotional reaction, usually negative, and is often to the point of mental and physical distress. This is why borderlines are prone to self-destructive and impulsive behavior, including physical self-harm, in desperate attempts to relieve their agony. It is also why they are met with accusations of manipulative behavior from those unable to understand what they see as an extreme and melodramatic response to often minor incidents.

2. I am a logical person trapped in an illogical brain.

Because it is a personality disorder, BPD’s influence on your life becomes an intrinsic part of your development, behaviour, and thought processes through adolescence into adulthood. Partly due to the anticipation of incoming and frequently erratic emotions, and also the effect this has on my relationships and day-to-day functioning, I find myself overly aware of my actions and their potential consequences — I often fear that my behaviour will be perceived as manipulative due to the severity of my emotional response and my need to address or validate any and all of my anxieties. When I obsess over my perceived failures or stress over future events, I go over every possible reason for the situation and every possible outcome for the way in which I can choose to address it, but ultimately I am often so overwhelmed that I am unable to negotiate which is the reality, and act out emotionally rather than logically to relieve or validate the way I am feeling. The way I tend to express myself in a crisis is like a backwards Ockham’s Razor mixed with a bunch of shit that explodes.

***

Beyond the BPD Wikipedia page, I didn’t have anything or anyone to relate to about my diagnosis. I didn’t know anyone else with BPD, and this in turn made me feel more isolated and misunderstood, making me lash out and enact the self-fulfilling prophecy of being abandoned for being too difficult. I had always had a love of film, and when I temporarily dropped out of high school due to my worsening mental health, the only break from the onset of agoraphobia I had developed was the 40-minute return trip to the local video store; delegating characters on a screen as my new friends. Representation is important — from strong confident women for young girls, to developed leading characters for people of colour, to sensitive portrayals of life with an illness — but it is particularly important for someone who suffers from an inability to accurately perceive themselves. As I sought out films that supposedly depicted BPD post-diagnosis, all it did was convince me I was a Bad Person™, and the feelings of hopelessness spread to the last parts of my brain they had yet to infect. Movies mattered to me, and here I was, the villain of the piece. Based on my real life experiences I had no reason to doubt that this was my fate, because it was all I had to go by.

Until recently, Wikipedia listed around 80 films on its “Mental disorders in film” page as featuring characters with BPD. Of the entire list, only three films explicitly mention it: the adaptation of Susanna Kaysen’s autobiographical novel Girl, Interrupted (1999), French-Canadian erotic drama Borderline (2008), and the offbeat Kristen Wiig indie comedy Welcome to Me (2014).

Out of those films that do not directly mention the disorder in dialogue, but are based on real-life subjects with BPD, only one of them is not about a serial killer: the 2001 adaptation of Elizabeth Wurtzel’s 1994 memoir Prozac Nation, about her adolescent struggle with BPD and bipolar (Wurtzel had wanted the original title to be I Hate Myself and I Want to Die but her editor convinced her to change it). Aileen Wuornos, who murdered seven men and was executed by the state in 2002, was officially diagnosed with BPD triggered by a lifetime of physical abuse and sexual trauma, and is portrayed by Charlize Theron in Monster (2003), for which she won an Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role. Three films currently exist about serial killer and cannibal Jeffrey Dahmer, who was diagnosed with BPD. The most recent of which, My Friend Dahmer (2017), focuses on Dahmer’s traumatic home life and gradual detachment from society — it is worth noting BPD was not Dahmer’s primary diagnosis, nor is it a focal point of any of the films about his life. Between Wuornos and Dahmer, it is difficult to expect anyone to develop empathy for characters who are, for all intents and purposes, psychopaths.

The majority of the Wikipedia list consists of psychological thrillers and horror films featuring women who are obsessive and manipulative, driven to the point of violence and sociopathic cruelty after rejection, including: Fatal Attraction (1987), where Glenn Close’s character infamously boils a rabbit alive to get revenge on an ex; Misery (1999), where a deranged Kathy Bates kidnaps and brutally disables an author who kills off her favourite fictional character; and Single White Female (1992), where a woman’s obsession with her new flatmate leads her to assume her identity, sexually assault her flatmate’s partner while wearing her clothes, and attempt to murder the object of her fixation and “become her.” Upon watching David Fincher’s Gone Girl (2014), my enjoyment of the film was instantly tainted when I went online to find dozens of blogs and tweets referring to Rosamund Pike’s Amy Dunne as a “classic borderline,” apparently evidenced by her thorough and premeditated attempts to frame her husband for abuse, even going so far as to schedule her own suicide so he is arrested for murder. The notion that Those with BPD self-harm or attempt suicide because of anything other than a hatred of themselves borders on morbidly entertaining to me when I think back to my own experiences, and my pure misguided desire to rid the world of myself to better others. The psychological thrillers with male characters, suspected of having BPD, all place even more emphasis on obsession and abuse, including Fear (1996), The Cable Guy (1996), One Hour Photo (2002), and, most frustratingly, American Psycho (2000) — the conflation of BPD with sociopathy being a common theme in film characterisations.

Making up the last numbers on the list is a handful of romantic dramas and comedies, including My Super-Ex Girlfriend (2006), Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008), and, rather bizarrely, the Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman casual sex themed comedy No Strings Attached (2011). One of the most frustrating representations I’ve seen is Silver Linings Playbook (2012), which pains me to discuss beyond calling it Manic Pixie Dream Girl for Film Snobs — a trope in itself that could be traced back to perceptions of women with BPD. Jennifer Lawrence’s Tiffany is flighty, impulsive, and emotionally manipulative; all she needs is the right person to “fix her.”

Interestingly, at the time of writing this article, the entire BPD subsection on the Wikipedia page has been deleted, bar a note on Tiffany’s hypersexuality as “a symptom of Borderline personality disorder.” However, the majority of the films I have listed can be found as supposed representations of BPD in multiple thinkpieces, texts, and resources, some even approved of by so-called “medical professionals.”

There are a plethora of articles about Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars allegedly fitting all criteria for a diagnosis of BPD — yes, the supervillain known as Darth Vader who commits large scale acts of genocide and seeks intergalactic domination — to the point where he is used as a textbook example in psychology classes. I would literally rather die than cause harm to someone else, and anytime I have it has been from a knee-jerk subconscious reaction of self-defense after being triggered into memories of past trauma. Because validation is so important to those with BPD, when I only see myself represented on screen as a literal murderer I want to shut myself off from the world for fear of hurting those I love more than I feel I already have by just existing. Imagine being gaslit by a fucking Hollywood movie. All of these movies that supposedly feature fair representations of BPD and individuals with it revolve around assumptions by viewers that are themselves based on assumptions of the disorder, causing this misinformation to continuously be recycled and repeated.

***

As far as accurate representation goes, I did enjoy Welcome to Me. The film stars Kristen Wiig as a woman with BPD who wins the lottery, goes off her meds, and spends her money creating a talk show about herself because she is obsessed with Oprah. Welcome to Me depicts the woman as more than just an emotional hurricane, but rather someone desperately trying to shelter from that hurricane and protect themselves and those around them. At times I found myself loathing Wiig’s Alice, but on further reflection this was because of self-loathing towards my own behaviour. There could be arguments for the characters of Clementine and Mavis from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Young Adult respectively, both having problems with emotional expression and regularity, identity, and relationships, but I’m hesitant to project upon characters that are not explicitly referenced as borderline lest I become another Wikipedia list. I have a lot of mixed feelings on the film adaptation of Girl, Interrupted; because it’s based on source material by an actual Borderline it is more realistic than other films, but the presence of Hollywood and the need to dramatise leads to missteps and misrepresentation, including the concept that BPD is largely recoverable as opposed to something the sufferer must manage and adjust to. Much like Welcome to Me, Winona Ryder’s Susanna inspires a certain amount of resentment in me, though I do not think it is as compassionate a portrayal as the former. I do enjoy a scene where Susanna is reading about her diagnosis from a book to fellow patient Lisa, a sociopath, which touches on the “laugh to keep from crying” attitude I often apply to my disorder:

Susanna: “Borderline Personality Disorder. An instability of self-image, relationships, and mood… uncertain about goals, impulsive in activities that are self-damaging, such as casual sex.”

Lisa: I like that.

Susanna: “Social contrariness and a generally pessimistic attitude are often observed.” Well, that’s me.

Lisa: That’s everybody.

Susanna: I mean, what kind of sex isn’t casual?

Film remains one of the most accessible ways to convey ideas and information to broad audiences, and even the most seemingly banal content can leave an impression on the viewer that sticks and shapes their ideals. When media consistently depicts these mentally vulnerable characters as evil, and communicates the notion that BPD is synonymous with violence, revenge, and a total lack of empathy, it breeds an environment for prejudice against sufferers. This stigma leads to the invalidation of their very real feelings, in turn feeding the cycle of self-destruction and self-loathing in the sufferer. And when the misrepresentation of BPD isn’t just limited to film and television, but extends to medical professionals, there is little hope for a change in public perception; patients with BPD often find it hard to find therapists and psychologists who will take them on, as borderlines are perceived in some medical circles as “lost causes” who will only disagree with or sabotage their treatment plans with dangerous behaviours. I’ve had GPs tiredly ask me why I can’t just try distract myself instead of self-harming, and I’ve given up on searching for BPD resources when so many of them call me toxic, or brand me as someone to avoid at all costs, when all I want to know is how to keep myself safe and express my love for the people in my life without overwhelming them.

Since my initial diagnosis, I have been lucky to meet several people who have trusted me with their BPD diagnosis — something many are hesitant to do because of the inherent stigma. The first time I met another borderline I think we talked for five hours straight, and the validation of my feelings and emotional processes and knowing I was finally not alone was almost euphoric. I am someone with a lot of love in my heart, especially for the people that take time to care for me and understand my disorder, but for my fellow borderlines I would take a bullet to keep them safe. We are precious, kind, loyal, empathetic human beings with an unlimited amount of compassion to provide those who take the time to know us, despite what they read online or see in a fucking Jennifer Lawrence movie. While a lot of people claim to have sympathy for those with mental illness, this seems to disappear when they cannot and will not educate themselves beyond a basic understanding of anxiety and depression. It’s easy to go through life being told how to think and what to do, but please take the time to get to know and understand those who don’t find things that simple, the people who go to war everyday with an overwhelming negative perception of who they are from both the public and themselves.

Special thanks to my mom and her unconditional support, and all my amazing friends who listen to me, love me, and make me cups of tea.

*

If you need support:

Mauri Ora: VUW Health and Counselling — Kelburn 04 463 5308, Pipitea 04 463 7474, or email student-health@vuw.ac.nz.

Youthline — 0800 376 633, free text 234, or email talk@youthline.co.nz.

Capital and Coast DHB: Te Haika / Mental Health Crisis Team — 04 494 9169 or 0800 745 477 (24 hours).

Suicide Crisis Helpline (for those in distress, or know someone who is) — 0508 828 865.

VUWSA advocacy service — Erica Schouten, 04 463 6984, or email advocate@vuwsa.org.nz.

Even if you haven’t heard of it, you might still have a peripheral awareness of Nathan For You due to its absurd schemes having a tendency to catch the attention of unaware mainstream news outlets. In 2014 the show made international headlines with “Dumb Starbucks”, a pop-up coffee shop meets art installation parodying Starbucks that was just legal through a copyright loophole, but which eventually shut down after three days for failing to meet health and safety codes. It was initially an attempt at rebranding a struggling small town café, but the café owner did not respond well to the idea of being blackmailed should Starbucks find a way to sue them. So Nathan set up Dumb Starbucks on his own.

The show had previously made news in its first season after staging a video of a “hero pig” rescuing a goat from drowning to promote a petting zoo — the video reached over 9,000,000 views on YouTube before it was revealed as a hoax to coincide with the episode’s premiere. Season four’s second episode employs a similar strategy, with a complex plan involving a celebrity impersonator and a legally binding name change in an attempt to stage a viral moment of “Michael Richards” (Seinfeld’s Kramer) leaving a $10,000 tip on a sandwich at a small deli.

Nathan For You is so delightfully uncomfortable that it somehow, despite all odds, becomes wholesome. Nathan’s perceived naivety allows people to open up to him, like a fucked up Louis Theroux. Over the seasons, Nathan has had a tense relationship with private investigator Brian Wolfe, with Wolfe dubbing Nathan “the Wizard of Loneliness” after a particularly bad blowup. But in the season four opener, the two find common ground admiring Wolfe’s former work as a soft-core erotica model, which Nathan brings bountiful evidence of in a thoroughly annotated binder. In another episode, Nathan changes a woman’s life when he suggests rebranding her realtor business as “The Ghost Realtor”, triggering a passion for the paranormal that persists to this day and has reinvigorated her professional life.

With all the shows coming back in the next month (Stranger Things, Mr Robot, Curb Your Enthusiasm) I feel spoiled for choice, but Nathan for You is what I consistently look forward to each year. It is somehow the smartest and stupidest thing I have ever seen. I cannot begin to explain the joy I feel watching Nathan Fielder do things like force strangers to go on a two-day hike to save $15 on gas, or extort hours of free work by presenting manual labour as an exercise fad, or set up an entire recreation of The Bachelor starring himself to get over his fear of intimacy. It’s kind of hard to explain without doing that awful thing where you try explain a comedian telling a funny joke and ruin it completely, and maybe I’ve already done that, so take your time now to catch up on the best show you haven’t heard of.

5. Kanye learns what the “Magic Stick” is

In Season 12 the Kardashian family go to Cuba! Everyone drives around in convertibles smoking cigars, while mother Kris Jenner grows isolated in Calabasas because no one can Facetime her. In an adorable scene, Kim, partner Kanye West, and daughter North, are taking a stroll while North clasps onto a leaf and a stick. “Is that like a magic stick?” Kanye asks North sweetly; “Babe, don’t say that. Do you know what that is?” says Kim under her breath. When Kanye doesn’t know, she pulls him in and whispers: “A dick.” For reference, “Magic Stick” is a song by 50 Cent and Lil’ Kim about how powerful their respective genitals are.

4. Kim loses an earring

After Kim’s second husband, the giant cardboard cutout of a douchebag that is Kris Humphries, throws her forcefully into the ocean, Kim discovers she has lost a diamond earring. Kris laughs and begrudgingly jumps in to pretend to search for the earring while Kim cries about how it was worth $75,000. Observing the chaos from the boardwalk, sister Kourtney’s monotone response of “Kim, there’s people that are dying“ is almost as iconic as America’s Next Top Model contestant Natasha’s “I just want to tell you that some people have war in their country.”

3. Kris’ birthday music video

For matriarch Kris Jenner’s 60th birthday in 2015, her children all got together to recreate a video she made in the ’80s for her 30th called “I Love My Friends”. In the classic clip, a young Kris sings about how much she loves things like her friends, family, Valentino, and church, over a montage of said friends and also hotel and boutique employees shouting, “She loves you!” A total banger, the video also includes photos of Kris and Robert Kardashian Sr. with O.J. and Nicole Brown Simpson, before O.J. murdered his wife in 1994.

2. Kim’s Playboy shoot

In the show’s first season back in 2007, Kim is chosen to do a spread in Playboy magazine, with her mother attending for moral support. While Kim does a pose that makes my knees hurt to look at, wearing only some costume pearls draped over her body, Kris coos from behind a camera, “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.” Recently, while doing last-minute gardening at 2.00am before a flat inspection the next day, my flatmate quoted this to me and it motivated me to keep going, even though my landlord was ultimately not impressed at all.

1. Todd Kraines

Scott Disick is Kourtney’s on/off partner, father to their three children, and also a chronically depressed alcoholic whose main source of income is doing club appearances, after relapsing several years ago following the sudden death of his parents. Over the seasons, Scott made a series of prank calls to Kris Jenner, pretending to be her nephew, Todd, whom she had not seen in years. Each call would begin with a high pitched semi-screech of, “Are you there, Auntie Kris? It’s me, Tooodddd Kraaaaines,” followed by Kris trying to make small talk. The long-running joke culminated in a reveal to an unsuspecting Kris, and an awkward dinner with the real Todd Kraines.

Special mention:

The Kardashian-Jenner family used to go on huge lavish vacations together that would always feature a homemade music video. My personal favourite is “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. Please look it up.

Sarah Paulson’s Ally lives with her soft2 butch wife Ivy (Alison Pill) and their young and inquisitive son, Ozzy. Donald Trump’s win sends Ally’s anxiety into overdrive and her intense phobia of clowns begins to manifest into horrific real-life nightmares — in the first episode she is chased around an abandoned supermarket by maniacal clowns in a scene that evokes a Marilyn Manson music video — and after barricading herself indoors she begins to develop symptoms of agoraphobia. I’m excited about this representation for something I suffer from, which will no doubt be an extremely tasteful and accurate portrayal in a Ryan Murphy show; I, too, dare not to tread outside lest I encounter the masturbating clowns. When they look for a nanny to watch Ozzy while Ally and Ivy run their boutique butchery, they meet Winter (Billie Lourd), a hip liberal feminist who dropped out of college to work on the Clinton ’16 campaign, and hire her instantly. Unfortunately, Winter spends her time nannying showing Ozzy videos of brutal murders, and when he starts to see evil clowns she convinces his parents he’s just been reading too many comic books.

Upsettingly, Evan Peters is not just evil but racist and homophobic this year, which makes his attractiveness even more problematic than before. Peters’ Kai Anderson is a Trump-voting MRA narcissist who may or may not be leading a cult of clowns, intent on provoking America into such a state of fear and frenzy that they are desperate to be led by someone willing to “fix” it. Kai is a cross between Richard Spencer, Milo Yiannopoulos, and everyone on Reddit’s r/theredpill — when Trump is announced as president, Kai makes a face mask out of blended Cheetos and dry humps his television. Over the season Peters is set to play different cult leaders throughout history, including Charles Manson, David Koresh, and even Andy Warhol — with the latter’s would-be assassin Valerie Solanas to be played by Lena Dunham in a later episode (ugh, there’s that disappointment again).

Now I get to talk about Billy Eichner! Yes, after shitting on AHS and Ryan Murphy no less than three times in Difficult People, Billy Eichner is in Cult and has been heavily hyping it over the last few months. Eichner plays Harrison Wilton, a homosexual beekeeper married to his heterosexual best friend, Meadow (did the writers use a young adult fantasy novel name generator for this show?), with whom he shares the co-presidency of the Michigan chapter of the Official Nicole Kidman Fan Club. They move into the house opposite Ally and Ivy, after the former couple living there are, yes, murdered by clowns. Meadow is played by the critically underused Leslie Grossman, who you might recognise as queen bee Mary Cherry from another Murphy show, 1999’s Popular. I’m absolutely thrilled with this duo. I’m sure Cult will end in chaos, but the real world’s looking pretty chaotic right now too; which scares you the most?

In case you hadn’t noticed we’re in the midst of a general election that’s been kind of stressful so far, and it’s become pretty difficult to separate the personal from the political; reading through pages of policies from each party isn’t high on my list when I’m in a rage on Twitter about the loss of Metiria Turei and the storm of benefit bashing that has surrounded her departure. That’s where On the Fence comes in.

Initially created for the 2014 election and now in its second iteration, On the Fence aims to break down the values held by each party and compare them to your own, using accessible language and imagery to reach voters of all demographics, primarily the 18–24 bracket and those previously not engaged in the democratic process.

The online tool works pretty simply: with each question posed, the user moves a slider to balance two competing statements on an issue (i.e. immigration, to keep or sell assets, the relevance of the Treaty of Waitangi), allowing for more nuanced answers to what can be fairly complex issues. After collating your results, the site will show you the top three parties that most closely align with your values, and the whole thing takes less than five minutes. With each question answered, a cute infographic shows you the New Zealand your vote can help to create. On the Fence’s mascot Baz, a friendly sheep named after former research officer Thomas Le Bas, is happy to help you with any questions you have along the way through the site’s social media and email accounts.

Kate Baxter is a research officer who has returned to Wellington from Melbourne to launch the site for this year’s election. They came over to my house for a cup of a tea and a sit down to talk about the project, what it hopes to achieve, the importance of the youth vote, and which sheep is best.

Katie: How did you get involved with On the Fence?

Kate: On the Fence is made by the Design and Democracy Project, an initiative based out of Massey University, where I used to study — I got the job through one of my former lecturers. It was originally started as a student project in 2014 by Kieran Stowers.

What has been your favourite part of working on On the Fence so far?

Dressing up Baz has got to be my favourite part of the job; it is a nice bit of relief. I love Baz and all of his hats. Actually, my favourite part of this process has been seeing how much I can do that I’ve never done before — I’m doing a lot of tasks that I’ve never done before and that I’m unfamiliar with, which has been terrifying but also quite good for me.

What was the process like of getting answers from each party to make the site?

First we reached out to all the parties that fit our inclusion criteria, which includes all parties currently in parliament, and those polling at 0.5% at the time our invitations were sent out. The process has been interesting; some parties have been really great and are all for it and want to participate, but a few took a bit of convincing. But everyone we talked to was open to us explaining it, and once they understood all the methodology they were on board.

Have you been surprised with any of the party answers?

We’ve been getting a lot of comments on social media from users saying they are very surprised with their answers — a lot of people have been concerned there’s a bias going on. We’ve had a lot of people saying the site’s produced by the Greens, and a lot of people saying it’s made by National. On the results page you can scroll down and see all the parties’ answers question-by-question. It was important to us that we trusted the parties to represent themselves, but a lot of people raised concerns that the parties’ responses don’t reflect their policies.

What other kind of feedback have you been getting on the tool this year?

Some people have expressed worries that it is going to get people to make an uninformed vote. We designed On the Fence as an entry level tool, with its primary purpose being to get people who have never voted before in their lives to talk about politics, enrol, and vote. Research shows that if you vote once you become more active politically, and every election you’ll become more informed, so we want to get people started on that process. That’s our goal.

There have been some other emerging tools this election, e.g. Policy and Vote Compass. Do you think they are helpful, perhaps in ways other than On the Fence, or do you want to fight them?

No, I don’t want to fight them — some of my friends have made those tools! I think it’s great, all of the tools this year work together, even though they are run independently. The Spinoff’s Policy is more in depth and offers more information, while On the Fence has been user tested within our target audience of 18–24 year olds and it’s designed for usability because we want it to be easy and digestible, and easy enough that someone can do it on their way to university or work.

Why do you think so many people don’t vote?

A lot of people don’t vote because they don’t think that politics is targeted at them. It’s a myth that young people are apathetic and disengaged; they just approach everything very differently, and parties are only just beginning to speak to young people on issues that concern them. Before then we haven’t really felt acknowledged.

How important is it for youths and students to vote? How do we get them to stop watching Netflix shows about murders and Pokémon Go to the polls?

Under 30s make up the largest voting block in the country, and voting is one of the only chances you have to make some kind of change. Your vote does matter! People also need to keep in mind that it’s sometimes very difficult to get to polling stations, to actually take the time to get enrolment forms in, so if you have the capacity you need to help out your friends and offer rides to polling stations. There are sausages sometimes — just go vote!

Are the children really our future?

Hell yeah!

How are you coping with the election this year? I’m finding it a bit stressful and emotionally draining, and I’m wary of the “bubble effect” that caught me off guard last election.

I’m undecided this election. There’s been a lot of turmoil and I have even cried a few times at different points, but I feel more engaged with the election being involved with On the Fence. You have to be aware of that bubble effect because I think everyone’s talking about the election and then I have to stop and think, wait, is this just my friends? We’re stuck in a bubble of well-educated, privileged, bougie Wellingtonians with their burgers and their pickle toast — which is by the way my favourite thing to eat in Wellington, that is not a diss, that’s a Customs plug. I think you have to be aware of the echo chamber; I see all of my friends sharing things on social media about going out to vote, but they’re probably the people likely to go out to vote anyway. There are a lot of amazing organisations doing great stuff, like FFS Vote, Action Station, RockEnrol, and NZUSA.

Who or what in New Zealand politics keeps you feeling hopeful that everything isn’t going to be so shit?

The other people who have just been working solely on keeping people informed and getting people involved in this election! There’s a lot of great activism at the moment, and I feel like everything that’s going on this election is exciting.

What are your favourite sheep puns?

They don’t come naturally to me, I labour over them to be honest.

Who is your favourite sheep? Dead, alive, or fictional. I like the one that got cloned, like Gucci Mane, Dolly.

Probably Shrek? What other sheep are there?

[We talk about Lambchop, Shaun the Sheep from Wallace and Gromit, counting sheep, the lamb from “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, the lamb from the Bible that lay down with the lion, Sheep in the Big City, and all the sheep in Babe. Kate says we should move on.]

I only know Baz and Shrek. Out of the two of them, I’d have to say Baz.

Max Key 2020?

Nah.

Check the site out at onthefence.co.nz and don’t forget to flock (sheep pun) to your local voting stations from now until September 23!

But this is a Chuck Lorre sitcom. Chuck Lorre made Two and Half Men. He made Mike and Molly. He made Big Bang Theory. He made the word bazinga (ba-zin-ga: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth). What a monster. Disjointed is tonally exactly the same as those shows; it is unfunny, offensive, and haunted by a soulless laugh track. Every character is bad. SUDDENLY! A watered-down Tim & Eric-esque skit, something-something stoners watch too many infomercials, because they are dumb. I’m thrown off. SUDDENLY! Kathy Bates said fuck! Very explicit joke about handjobs, all the seedy uncle subtlety of Charlie Sheen mid-bender out the window — this is Netflix, people! HBO? I don’t know her! SUDDENLY! Psychedelic animation featuring an extremely serious voice-over recital of slam poetry about post-traumatic stress disorder from military service! SUDDENLY! Hand jobs again, as demonstrated on a car steering wheel by a miscellaneous housewife high on the pot. Excuse me? Is this what weed is like? Does anyone know what I’ve been smoking? Am I okay? Is Kathy Bates okay? Do I need to crash her car and hold her hostage in my remote cabin until she makes better decisions? Life feels meaningless, and long.

I don’t know if it’s a play on the title, because I genuinely cannot bring myself to watch a second episode, but there is no conceivable plot or purpose to Disjointed and watching it is extremely disorientating. I still cannot figure out who the audience for this show is, and I don’t ever care to meet those people should they exist. Nothing about it was redeemable; it was stupid, crude, racist, misogynistic, and insulting to me as an esteemed viewer of the magic box that plays the moving pictures. Did you know that every second of our lives we are all inching closer to death? I never want to watch this show again and it has 20 episodes commissioned. Good thing Chuck Lorre sitcoms aren’t very successful… oh, they are? Two and a Half Men continued to thrive even after the violent drug-addicted lead actor they were paying over a million dollars per episode tried to destroy it? The Big Bang Theory is one of the most popular and successful sitcoms in America and is to be followed by the prequel, Young Sheldon, in November of this year? Smash my fucking ankles in.

Big Brother is still alive and well in the UK, regularly throwing strangers in a house so they will get drunk and fight for our entertainment, but the real gem of the franchise is its celebrity edition; people still get drunk and fight in a house, but they are all simultaneously extremely narcissistic and deeply embarrassed to have reached this point in their careers. Each season beautifully manages to capture the vibe of when your parents told you to “stop showing off” when people were over at your house, but everyone showing off is an adult, and I live for it.

The word “celebrity” should always be taken with a grain of salt when it comes to CBB — I think the most famous people to have ever been on it would be David Gest (know for being Elizabeth Taylor’s ex) and Gary Busey (known for being batshit). Daniel Baldwin was on once, but he is definitively the least known of the Baldwin brothers (I consider myself an expert). Personally I’ve never found the lack of recognition to matter, and I often get very attached to people from Eastenders, a show I have never seen.

This season has the usual mix of reality stars, washed-up singers and soap opera actors from the UK and America — with the added joy of YouTube superstar Trisha Paytas, who is maybe the only YouTuber I know and that makes me feel young and validated. Trisha is known for talking very fast, crying on her kitchen floor, mukbang shows (Korean for “eating broadcast”), and dating D-list actors from ’80s films — imagine her dismay when this season’s cast does not at all meet her standards. The 15 housemates include The Bachelor’s Chad Johnson (who?), pop group Girls Aloud’s Sarah Harding (whom?), and Celebrity Love Island’s Paul Danan (whomst’d’ve?). There is a television psychic, Derek Acorah, who has been asked about ghosts every single day; in case you were wondering, his spirit guide is called Sam, and yes, he can see into the future.

Though nothing can ever top Tiffany “New York” Pollard’s reaction to what she thought was a fellow housemate’s sudden death (I cannot go into more detail without sabotaging my word limit, but I implore you to search YouTube for “David’s dead”), the promise of Trisha gives me great hope for the coming few weeks. She has already had iconic moments, purposefully sabotaging her chance at immunity for pizza, and crying because she has not been provided a washcloth with which to scrub her own ass.

The best thing about CBB is that it is so frequent, airing at least once every day in the form of the main highlights show, often followed by an hour long livestream from the house. There are bi-weekly live evictions — as voted by the public — that also function as that day’s highlights show and can sometimes go for up to two hours. And then, every weekday, there is Big Brother’s Bit on the Side, a talk show discussing the day’s events hosted by former contestant Rylan Clark. In other words, it is the perfect show for you. Yes, you, smoking your third spliff of the day, eating yesterday’s Hell’s pizza. Embrace the trash, for you are already in the bin.

Grandma’s House is blisteringly awkward in the tradition of Peep Show and Curb Your Enthusiasm, made twenty times more uncomfortable because of how familiar it all is — think of every casual family gathering you were forced to attend growing up before you could fob them off with your more pressing adult responsibilities. With each episode taking place within his grandmother’s house, Amstell plays a not-even-very-exaggerated version of himself trying to find his place in the world. If you’ve seen Amstell on Buzzcocks before, it’s hard to tell if his performance in Grandma’s House even qualifies as “acting”, but instead an elaborate form of personal therapy achieved by recreating scenes from his life in a controlled environment and reacting to them on camera. The first episode begins with Simon announcing his decision to quit Buzzcocks, much to the dismay of his mother, whose only joy is getting to tell people her son is on television, and to the rest of his family, who enjoy using his B-grade celebrity status for freebies. When his mother announces her engagement to boring douchebag Clive, a hit-and-run driving alcoholic box factory worker, Simon’s desperation to know the meaning of life kicks into overdrive — does anything really matter, or is it just about living in a reasonably sized mortgage-free house with someone you can put up with 60% of the time? The following two seasons of Grandma’s House ultimately exist as the answer to “what should Simon do next?”, but without coming across as cringey as the kid who writes a speech about writing speeches in Year Eight English class. The supporting cast are infallible in their fully-realised roles as Simon’s family, especially Aunt Liz (Samantha Spiro), who can never do (or wear) anything right, and Grandma Lily (Linda Bassett), who specialises in blackmail with a purse-lipped smile.

If I was ever going to make a television series it would be just like Grandma’s House; snappy, snarky, depressing, uncomfortable, and all about me (but without the handful of rape jokes; honestly, can we please agree to be edgy without that shit?). It’s a quick watch and in being so properly funny, only twelve episodes seems unfair — I laughed, I cried, I hid behind my t-shirt collar, and I commiserated.

Fans of Amstell should also check out Carnage, his recent BBC mockumentary set in the not-too-distant UK 2067, where everyone is vegan and having difficulty coming to terms with their selfish meat-eating pasts as “carnists”.