As reported earlier in Salient, Fredric was placed on interim suspension early this month pending investigation, and later filed a claim with the Employment Relations Authority (ERA) challenging the suspension by OUSA General Manager Darel Hall.

Under the terms of the agreement the sum of the settlement is confidential, and when spoken to by Salient, Fredric refused to confirm any figures. However, sources close to the organisation have said that the settlement was around $35,000, which is slightly less than a year’s salary for the Critic Editor.

Fredric was called to a meeting with Hall on Friday 3 May, during which Hall informed Fredric that he would be suspended “on an interim basis” until the following Tuesday, when Hall would make a final decision as to whether Fredric would remain suspended while Hall investigated complaints from five members of both Critic and OUSA staff. Hall also instructed Fredric not to speak to Critic staff nor to return to the premises without express permission. In a letter given to Fredric at the meeting, Hall cited potential health and safety issues to staff due to long hours of work and risks to Critic’s business relations, along with concerns about frequent lateness to and absence from the office.

In the affidavit filed in support of his ERA claim, Fredric rejected Hall’s suggestion that the allegations were serious enough to give rise to suspension. Fredric said that staff health and safety and business relations would not be affected by his return to work. In response to the allegations about his hours of work, Fredric wrote that flexible working hours had been common for many years at Critic, and although he may not always be present in the office, he continued to work an average of 60 hours every week. As Fredric often worked late nights to meet production deadlines, he said it was not practical to be at work at 9am, but staff were always able to contact him via phone, email or Facebook if necessary.
“Staff can get things done even if I am working flexible hours and go home at the time they normally would even if I wasn’t there.”
If reinstated, Fredric offered to “cooperate fully with the process of dealing with complaints”, and work under any reasonable conditions placed on him.

The employment issue became public knowledge when police were called to the Critic offices on Monday 6 May when Fredric refused to leave after being issued with a Trespass Notice by a Campus Watch guard. Fredric was attempting to attend a staff meeting at the Critic offices in order to explain the situation to staff, and ensure that his reputation wasn’t damaged.

Following a meeting on Tuesday 7 May, during which Fredric outlined his submissions as to why he should be reinstated during the investigation, Hall confirmed that Fredric would remain on suspension with full pay during the investigation.

On Thursday 9 May Fredric’s lawyer filed the ERA claim, which requested that the Authority order immediate reinstatement while the claim was being investigated. The claim also requested compensation from OUSA, and that the matter be dealt with under urgency, rather than through the usual time-frames and mediation steps usually required in employment disputes.

The claim sets out Fredric’s grounds for disputing the suspension, namely; that he was not given any prior warning or opportunity to comment; that his employment contract does not state that he is able to be suspended, that the allegations against him had not been clearly set out, and that the complaints raised should have been dealt with in a performance management, rather than disciplinary, process. As a result, it was argued, the suspension was unlawful and completely unjustified. A hearing date was set down for Monday 20 May, but was cancelled due to the out-of-court settlement.

Acting Editor Sam McChesney will oversee the production of the last issue of the semester this week. The role will be advertised from next Monday at the latest.

[NOTE: This story has been updated from the original version posted early on Tuesday 21 May following legal consultation.]

With the first 11 chapters boasting exclamation marks in their titles, including “I Don’t Know What to Call My Breasts!” and “I Go Lap-Dancing!”, readers are well warned about Moran’s characteristic exuberance. It charts the rise of Moran’s sexuality, from the first whiff of puberty to procreating. In the mix of these life events are musings and conversational yarns about the state of womanhood these days and in those days (the late 80s and early 90s get plenty of exercise). The wry humour and wit that accompany the first chapters set Moran up to deal with some of womankind’s more pressing social and moral issues towards the end.

Her ruminations, rants, and moments of despair range from obvious questions surrounding feminism, to the more inconspicuous topics. She deals with Brazilians, strip clubs, tiny underwear, being fat, and being bitchy; as well as subtle sexism, the pros and cons for childbearing and rearing, and what is happening to our role models, eloquently discussing Scarlett Johansson’s breasts, masturbation, and the (scary) truth about women’s thought processes.

This is a woman who has done her homework. Wage-gap statistics sit comfortably beside a lifetime of experience. Her arguments are smart and well rounded, arriving at clear, but often ignored, conclusions. Her myriad of experiences, including run-ins with drugs, that time she got drunk with Lady Gaga in a German sex club, and an abortion, give authenticity to her reasoning on contentious issues.

The book is full of syntactical gems illustrating apt truths, as if they were simply waiting for Moran to reveal them. “At 18, I am discovering what generations of women have long known: that the natural ally of the straight woman is the gay man. Because they are ‘other’…too.” She understands the power of words; she doesn’t ask that women become feminists: she assumes that they already are, encouraging us to reclaim the label “strident feminist”. She queries how it ever went out of fashion to be into equal rights: “What part of ‘liberation for women’ is not for you? … Or were you just DRUNK AT THE TIME OF SURVEY?”

She goes beyond the interesting but dry world of social criticism and feminism to a laugh-out-loud, incredibly relatable, and important read for women. And men too. Moran makes it clear that more men should “stand up on [their] chairs” and proclaim that “I AM A FEMINIST! …[as] a male feminist is one of the most glorious end-products of evolution.”

While Moran despairs at the status quo, she is an optimist who has created a toolbox of rhetoric for all women to take themselves and their cunts (not that this is requisite to womanhood) to a position of greater self-awareness and well-earned respect. It’s a wonder that there hasn’t been a Government initiative giving everyone a copy on their 16th birthday.

The top ten most expensive paintings in the world, painted by the likes of Renoir, Van Gogh and Picasso, together hold a monetary value of just over $1.6 billion. Cézanne’s The Card Players tops the list, being the current most expensive painting in the world at $250 million. Considering that these works are, essentially, merely paint upon canvas, art can be thought of as the world’s most expensive commodity by weight.

By buying a renowned piece of art, the buyer also buys the satisfaction of owning an archetypal object of wealth, not dissimilar to the more socially acceptable splurge on a piece of diamond jewellery, flashy car or even a particular clothing brand. Of course, a couple of million is much different to a couple of thousand, but what elevates art is the originality and cultural history behind it. Van Gogh shot himself and will never paint again. Lamborghini died too—but his factories will keep churning out vehicles with his name. Knowing that you alone, and no one else, owns a masterpiece of the whole of art history is an enticing concept, and has proven to be a competitive driving force in art auctions. Furthermore, for better or for worse, the modern world equates monetary worth with importance, and the fact that art can continue to hold seven-figure values allows truly exceptional works to be preserved and respected.

The value of art is not just seemingly ridiculous in terms of private ownership, but more sentimentally, in terms of preservation. Where there is a demand there must be a supply, and this has given rise to an estimated billion-dollar underground black market of stolen art. While it may seem that no one would be foolish enough to buy and then possess a known piece of stolen art, it seems that the private enjoyment of a piece is enough for some to secretly spend millions on a painting or sculpture—and there are even romantic subtleties to this concept!

However, while the black-market purchasers may be individually lavishing their love upon an artist’s work, it does deprive the public of that piece, with many works being stolen not from private collections but from museums. The largest art heist, and also the largest property crime in history, was in 1990 when 13 pieces, together worth $1.2 million, were stolen from Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The pieces remain relevant—in an effort to bring back the pieces for the public, the museum announced in March this year a $5 million reward for any useful information for their return. Millions of dollars to personally own a piece and millions of dollars to keep them available for the public—the money shows the double-sided demand for art.

Art can be very, very expensive, and sometimes it seems senselessly so. It is fair enough to judge someone for spending a fortune upon a painting, but only if you also equally judge someone for spending a smaller fortune on a Karen Walker ring. The lucrativeness of the art world validates and preserves it, and underneath all the thefts and the dropping of millions, there is an undeniable sentiment of genuine affection for pieces of art.

Are there any particular types of film or genres that excite you as a filmmaker?

I like making short films mostly. A lot of people are like “Yeah, feature films!” but I really like trying to make short films. I like experimenting with in-camera effects and doing a lot of things that you mightn’t do if you had big special-effects programmes. I really like using low-budget effects. I mean, I haven’t made many of them at the moment, but I’d like to make some short films about the relationships between friends and things like that.

How do you begin to plan out your film once you are given the basic setup?

Well, what we did last year is that on the Friday night we all sat around and took about ten minutes to try and think of an idea. We then pooled them all together and decided which one was the best, and also mixed together elements from them all until we got something that we quite liked. Then we went to bed early, so we could get at least one night of sleep. On Saturday we filmed pretty much all day, and then just started editing until we had a rough cut done by about noon on the Sunday.

What was the idea behind your film from last year’s competition?

Well, we got ‘Inspirational’ as our genre, and I think it was new to the competition. It was very strange; my friend punched the couch when we found out. We ended up making a seven-minute film about an android who was built to replay music but wants to create music.

How do the prizes and recognition that you can attain incentivise you?

For me, it’s never really about the prizes. I just want to make a really good film. I was interviewing Dan Slevin for my Film Honours project the other day—he runs the Wellington division of 48HOURS—and he was saying that most people are really just interested in seeing their films on the big screen. That’s the most appealing part to me as well.

How do you find the time constraints? Does it encourage you to think and work innovatively ?

I think it does. When you have so little time and you have to think on your feet and then you’re being given things like an “unlucky character” or an “ex-bully”, it helps to inspire people. You have to be really out-there crazy, because you can’t sit and stew about it for a couple of days like you would if you were trying to do a creative project for uni.

Do you find the special rules regarding props etc. limiting, or do they actually help focus your creative energies?

I think they do help you focus. It’s kind of like when you study French and someone tells you “Say something in French” and you don’t know what to say. It’s kind of like that. If I’m being given carte blanche, and I find this a lot when writing stories, then it’ll take me days to think of something. However, if someone gives me a prompt then it gives me something to work off and it does help a lot. So, last year our prop was a leaf, and some people would just shoot their film and shoehorn it into it, but sometimes teams try and include it as an element of their story and that helps funnel your efforts.

Do you have any advice for aspiring filmmakers or others looking to get involved in the competition?

In regards to aspiring filmmakers, just get out there and make something. It doesn’t have to be good because you learn by failure. You don’t have to have the best equipment or even know what you’re doing, but if you just get a camera and try and do something then that’s a good first step.

Now, I know that seems to be a pretty blanket statement, and also a slightly stupid one to come from an article about video games. Give me a second to explain before sending us an email in disgust.

I’m not talking about the face-stabby, guy-shooty, puppy-kicky day-to-day violence within video games. Rather, I’m talking about ‘video-game violence’ as a topic thrown around by media, or American politicians looking to appeal to overly concerned voters, usually directly following whatever shooting, bombing or other heart-wrenchingly catastrophic event has happened most recently.

It seems to me that ‘video games’ as a whole get a whole lot of flak for being violent, and that this mainly comes from people who have either never played a video game or seem to think shooters are the only type ever made. Sure, a lot of games do include violence—conflict is a pretty normal expression in any medium—but for almost every Call of Duty-esque shooter there’s a sports game or an Angry Birds.

These soap-boxers lack any real evidence to back up a relationship between violent games and violent activity, besides the fact that the latest teenage shooter happened to own Doom or Counter-Strike. Coincidentally, millions of other people who don’t turn up to class with weapons also own these games. Correlation is not causation, whichever way you look at it.

There are a range of studies that suggest playing video games leads to increased short-term aggression. 2011 Brock University and 2012 Texas A&M studies show that, among other things, competitive play increases aggression and cooperative play increases cooperation. These same results are gained from activities other than video games, such as physical sports. Video games are simply not the sole cause of outbreaks of excessive violence.

Violence is part of our wider society, and video games reflect that—they don’t create it. Movies, TV shows, comics, even music all reflect the fascination our society has with fighting and violence. However, I haven’t heard anyone yet suggest that watching Die Hard will turn our teenagers into unbalanced individuals.

Brains – Constant Love Forever. Punk rawk, Kiwi pride. Pick your price.

Empire! Empire! (I Was a Lonely Estate) – What it Takes to Move Forward. Emo, sad-bastard music, cryalone- in-the-dark-with-a-pottle-of-Vaseline-core. $5.

Four Tet – 0181. Electronica. FREE.

Kayo Dot – Choirs of the Eye. Metal (?), neoclassical (?), experimental, 3deep5u. $7.

Kitty Pryde – haha i’m sorry. Cloud-rap. Follow her on tumblr while you’re at it. $1.

Lontalius – The Same EP. Indie, shoegaze. Pick your price.

ScotDrakula – BURNER. Surf-punk endorsed by Henry Cooke. $2.

Tommy Ill – Fearless Bueller. Hip-hop for the upper-middle-class white crowd; read Edward Saïd’s Orientalism instead. I hate it but you might not. Pick your price.

Luckless is currently traversing the country for her Ballads and Badlands tour, which she is co-headlining with Nadia Reid. The name of the tour reveals much about the music you can expect to hear from the artists. “We both write and will be performing relatively mellow sets this time around. Ballads can be not necessarily sad songs, but the slower, more reflective side of writing,” says Ivy. And as for ‘Badlands’? “There’s that feeling you get sometimes when you’re on tour and you’re driving through these vast expanses of countryside… When you’re driving through the Desert Road or you’re driving across the Lindis Pass there’s this sense of emptiness and openness and space. And besides, it just sounded really good with ‘Ballads’.”

By my own estimations, the name of the tour is a pertinent summation of Luckless’ music. The melancholy of her songs sometimes begs the question “Who made Ivy so sad and where do they live so I can say mean things to them?!” Fortunately, Miss Rossiter reassured me that her songs aren’t necessarily based on factual events: “Some of them are autobiographical, but not all of them. When I say ‘autobiographical’, I mean they start from one idea that’s come out of something recent that’s happened and then I build the song around it… and then there are others which have absolutely nothing to do with my life and are from a completely different scenario. There’s one on my record called ‘Fermina Daza’ which is entirely about a character in a book by Gabriel García Márquez called Love in the Time of Cholera.”

Considering some of my own experiences (Rockquest 2010 hollaaa), I was intrigued to find out how Luckless handles the challenges of performing such personal material in what are often very intimate settings. It seems she has managed to successfully internalise the 2012 mantra of Keep Calm and Carry On, reasoning that “It’s much better in an intimate setting. It’s really difficult if you’re in a bar full of people who want to party and have a good time and drink, and I’m just really not what they’re interested in at all… We’ve got some really cool venues, including The Moorings in Wellington which is one of the best spaces because everyone’s so in awe of the room itself; they’re automatically more inclined to be quiet and be listening. I hate the idea of demanding that an audience just sits there and listens, so I try at the same time to do my very best to give them something that they might actually want to listen to.” Wise, wise words.

On that note, I wanted to know one great reason why us Wellingtonians should check out the Ballads and Badlands tour. Ivy’s response was that “We’ve got a really strong show overall.”

But to be honest, she didn’t need to convince me in the first place. The depth of thought and passion that goes into crafting her music is what the majority of artists hope to impart to their listeners, and it is entirely salient with Luckless.

Why am I telling you, poor students, this? Well, for the future lawyers, doctors and ballers out there, it’s the perfect wine they say—100/100 points. Which is all well and good, except it’s not going to be ready to drink for probably another 20 years, in which time it will probably be about $3000 if not more, so actually not a bad investment. And given that in 20 years it will be just about the time y’all will be makin’ it rain, just remember who sparked your love of all things vino and invite me around for a glass.

But if you’ve already blown your course-related costs on something other than the Penfolds Grange 2008, you’re probably looking a little lower on the shelf when it comes to shopping for wine. With that in mind I thought I would see how a cask of wine would go over the week, two glasses a night while cooking dinner…

Even though it’s the only one I tasted, I could tell straight away that the Yalumba 2012 Shiraz ($19.99 for 2 L) was going to be vastly superior to its contemporaries on the shelves of New World Chaffers. It bears the name of a real and reputable producer, and has an alcohol level about two per cent higher than the rest—not only does this get you where you want to be when you’re drinking cask wine (i.e. drunk), but the extra alcohol also adds structure and body to the wine itself.

Day 1: Okay, so this stuff was surprisingly good; red cherries, vanilla and some soft tannins made it extremely quaffable. At a comparable price of $7.68 for 750 mL it would be worth a look against some of the $8.99 New Zealand cabernet/merlot blends on offer in the bottle.

Day 5: I think by this point it had lost the freshness that the back of the box promised, but up until Day 3 it had been going down really well. I’ve also found myself getting slightly bored of the same tipple every night, but for a flat of three or four, have this with a pizza night and you’re good to go!

I’ve said an awful lot of rude things about classic English desserts. About the fact that no matter how many you put in, raisins and sultanas just aren’t that exciting. About the fact that no dish should ever be called ‘rock cake’ or ‘spotted dick’. Or contain suet. However, I’ve had to gradually abandon my prejudices. And although I’m still not at the stage where I’d call jam a bold culinary addition, I’ve got to the point where I think it’s just, well, nice.

One of these developments is that I really really like rice puddings. Some people write odes to Grecian urns, but I’d write one to rice pudding – hot, sticky, creamy and sweet. The rice pudding has somehow gained a pretty dire reputation, largely through an unfortunate combination of school dinners and canned creamed rice. When a rice pudding is made properly, it is quite astoundingly lovely. After more than an hour of cooking on low heat, the milk becomes very sticky and rich, taking on a faintly caramelised flavour. It is hot, cosy and simple, a perfect comfort food. It is also extremely easy, with only five minutes preparation and just three ingredients. All you need is a little advance preparation, because of the long cooking time. It isn’t something you can whip up quickly, but is totally worth the wait.

Rice Pudding (serves four):

50 g white rice
600 mL milk
2.5 tablespoons white sugar
Jam (optional, for serving)

Preheat the oven to 150°C. Combine all ingredients (except jam) in an oven-proof dish. Bake for an hour and a half, until there is a thick brown skin over the top and the rice has completely absorbed the milk. Remove from the oven, sit for a minute, then serve hot or cold. This is also great with a spoonful of jam on top.