Assembly Magazine Issue 1, August 2009

ASSEMBLY magazine

ISSUE 1/AUGUST 2009

FEATURES Letter from Europe § Michael Herleth

p.3

Matariki § Andrea O’Neil

p.4

Famous Red Raincoat § Teresa Herleth

p.5

Save the Past § Daniel McClelland

p.7

School Talk § Teresa Herleth

p.9

FICTION Modern Love § Sam Tidey

p.6

Bia Hoi Corner § Jen Van Beynen

p.8

Participation in Isolation § Sam Tidey

p.2

Story § Jessie Prebble

p.5

Pterodactyl 2k10: TT-Rex Trouble! § Sam Tidey

p.12

COLUMNS Cookery § Andrea O’Neil

p.11

Dear Aunt Agatha § Bronwyn Haines

p.10

One Page § Andrea O’Neil

p.14

ILLUSTRATION Botanical § Jessie Prebble

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 1

p.6 p.6

EDITORIAL § Andrea O’Neil Thanks everyone for contributing to the first Assembly. It’s great to read the things that we’ve all been working on. Next issue will have a section called ‘forum’, where comments, small notes and letters will go. I can see this being a major part of the magazine – kind of like a community noticeboard in some ways. So if anybody wants to reply to an article in the mag, or let us all know about something, post a comment on the blog or email me. I think the next issue will be in two months, submissions welcome anytime! Also, if you think anyone else would be keen, please get them in touch with me. Cheers, good work!

PARTICIPATION IN ISOLATION § Sam Tidey A friend has the swines. Should I go to her house and inhale her so I can stay home and watch TV? Yes. I think I should. Pandemics are meant to be shared by everyone. I will feel like I am taking part. Like when everyone read The Da Vinci Code and watched the moon landing. I will click on that link if it's in the editors' picks. Even if it kills me. I want to belong. And say I saw Dancing with the Stars last night too.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 2

LETTER FROM EUROPE § Michael Herleth 'An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered.' - G.K. Chesterton And so, when I was stopped by police on my way to Prague near the Czech border, my first thought was F**K , but I soon realised that when things are out of your control and unfold in unexpected ways, they just get more interesting and exciting!

'Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure.' - Helen Keller As I arrived in München late at night with no map, no contacts and no desire to fork out for a hotel, I looked around and realised there were plenty of places to sleep, they were just a little more exposed and public than I was used to. Sleeping in a park in the middle of a big city really isn't so bad, and after a week of doing just that I still haven't been disturbed, robbed, or pissed on. So...

'When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson I often hear how much people would love to do what I'm doing, but that they are too busy, tied up, or lack the money. Well folks, if you never dare to drop everything and tackle something unknown or difficult, you will never find the charm which providence has hidden within it.

''It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.' - Seneca 'Take a chance! All life is a chance. The man who goes furthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare.' - Dale Carnegie

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 3

MATARIKI MATARIKI § Andrea O’Neil Winter in New Zealand – five months of grey, wet, and chill. Months during which we mostly stay indoors, under a blanket, willing the outside world to disappear. When it begins to get warm again we think – that wasn’t a proper winter! Where were the storms? I never got round to spending all those nights by the fire with wine! Those of us who have lived in the Northern Hemisphere have experienced the season very differently. New Zealand seems to have retained Europe’s festivals, but not where we (desperately) need them. I’ve spent the past two winters in England, where, from after Bonfire night in November until the end of the year, the equivalent of our May and June, people spend their time preparing for Christmas, planning feasts and wrapping gifts, getting excited – not only distracting themselves from the dark and cold, which admittedly is part of it, but also celebrating the peculiarities of the season – lights and lanterns are strung up to make the streets look pretty when the sun goes down at 3pm, and people spend time doing cold-weather things – ice skating is really popular in London in December, and hot chestnuts were sold on street corners in my town, Brighton. In Germany they have the outdoor Weihnachtsmarkt – Christmas markets – where locals sell their crafts and everyone drinks loads of mulled wine in the snow. For real! I’m not suggesting midwinter Christmases here in New Zealand. One Christmas a year is quite enough thank you. Besides, I like having Christmas in summer. In Europe I found that the hot season almost slipped by before you noticed it had begun. In New Zealand it is truly marked – almost everybody is on holiday in the last week of December, and there’s a real celebratory atmosphere. Also, I’m quite attached to our transferred rituals, the fake snow on shop windows, Christmas Carols sung by schoolchildren at their last assemblies before summer holidays begin. I also don’t think that it’s desirable or possible to invent a midwinter festivity out of thin air. Why would we not just use one that already exists? I propose that Matariki be made a public holiday. I’ve done some thorough Wikipedia research and here is what I’ve learned about Matariki: It’s the name of a constellation Maori use in timing when to plant crops. The appearance of the stars also marks the New Year. The constellation rises in early June, but many Maori wait until the next full moon to celebrate – late June or early July, when the days are at their darkest, and the exact equivalent of winter celebrations in the Northern hemisphere. The agriculture aspect is important – Matariki is the time to prepare the soil, to prepare for the coming year. On inspecting my gardening book, I discover that June and July are the months in which to plant beans, peas, salad leaves, silverbeet, celery, cabbage and onions. Green things which will ripen when the land is green again. I foresee another feast, months ahead, tables laden with lilies and our green harvest. On it goes. Marking the New Zealand winter won’t magic away all of its miseries – we need insulation and cheaper power for that – but isn’t winter just the best time to gather friends under lighted candles? Let’s plan a Matariki feast to share together next year. You bring the bunting, I’ll bring dark meats, and a silver spade to break the earth. Yes, yes.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 4

FAMOUS RED RAINCOAT § Teresa Herleth Warmth? Is it a state of mind or a physical phenomenon? Well, since coming to Wellington at the beginning or the year I have experienced a very real sense of cold. Some argue it is because I have changed my diet- gluten and diary free. But now, after a certain mental realisation, I am more inclined to suggest that warmth is a state of mind as much as an actual physical experience. If we are uncomfortable within ourselves then surely any outer discomfort is going to influence the inner and vice versa. Since reaching a point of “it’s all ok” I have noticed that I am not so cold, I needn’t walk around in my ‘red sleeping-bag’ of a jacket regardless of where I am! I think though that it is also possible that the weather is merely not as cold!

STORY § Jessie Prebble So, she’s listening to the rain. She has one of those corrugated iron roofs and right now the rain is falling softly, and it’s making a gentle, a sort of swish - swish sound. Which is quite peaceful, but is also a bit annoying, like, you know, when someone is giving you a massage but they’ve been distracted and their fingers are idly stroking your back. And it’s sort of nice but you just wish they’d remember that you’re there and really dig in. And that’s what she’s wishing about the rain. She’s wishing it would harden up and hail. Really hail hard. Because that would suit her mood right now. She’s, well, she’s a bit angry. Oh, you know, she got a parking ticket for being only thirteen minutes overtime in a car park, and her flatmate is watching rugby in the lounge and she really hates rugby. And there’s nothing really wrong, but she wishes there was so she’d feel justified for feeling this, this dissatisfied, this dislocated, this angry. She thinks about calling someone. It’s good to talk to people? But no, there’s no one she wants to talk to. They’d only ask her how she was, and then, “why honey, what’s wrong?” But there’s nothing wrong and that’s what’s wrong. It’s the relatively well-off, middle-class and educated blues, and there’s nothing to do about it, except read some comprehensive study into the living conditions in darkest Mongolia, or perhaps some Harry Potter, and listen to the rain.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 5

MODERN LOVE § Sam Sam Tidey Meeting people is easy. Our clothes will let us know, if we should talk to eachother. I used to like that one song too - on cassette back in 1995. Maybe I will download it tonight when I get home. In theory I should like you. Give me your number, and I will be your apathetic lover, baby.

BOTANICAL § Jessie Prebble

Brassica rapa

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 6

SAVE THE PAST § Daniel McClelland When I was 16, I wrote a lot of music. Massive big band pieces, orchestral epics with oboe solos, even choral requiems. All of this was meticulously notated, down to the smallest of semiquavers. Fast-forward 7 years, and I can't read any of it. Not because I've lost the ability to, not because my eyesight’s dimmed, but because my PC can't open the file format I saved them in. Had I stuck to pen and paper - just as composers have done for years - all would be well. But because I saved these pieces in Midisoft's Studio 4, I have real problems. See, the Internet doesn't remember that program, or the .sng format it saves files in. Thankfully, I kept a copy of the program on a CD. Problem is... which one? I have about 500 in my bedroom. Of those, 25% are scratched. Another 25% have faded and my CD player doesn't recognise them anymore. On one of them I find Carmen Sandiego, a classic video game. I try to install it, but Windows won't run DOS games of its kind any more. Eventually, by using all my nerdy powers, I get the game to work, but its geography-based clues refer to countries that no longer exist, rivers that have been moved and flags that have been replaced. Why go to all this effort describing an average evening for a geek in 2009? Longstory short: if computer-obsessed 23 year old males are finding it this hard to run older programs right now… can you imagine how hard it’ll be to do so in 2030? If we’re not careful, it’s possible we’re going to lose huge parts of our culture in the coming decades. However, there are a few things you can to stem the tide. If you want to help future historians, print out your Facebook statuses, on paper. Save your important documents in a widely used format (especially photos! Make sure they're not in some random format that came with your camera, change them to .png, .jpg or .bmp). Take a couple of hours every now and then to move the emails you care about offline. Check your compilation CDs for scratches. If there's a YouTube video you love, google instructions on how to save it to your hard-drive. Unless we're careful, the future will have no choice but to forget all about us!

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 7

BIA HOI CORNER § Jen Van Beynen At Bia Hoi corner I give a man with one leg 10 000 Vietnamese Dong. This is maybe fifty cents. He leans forward on wooden crutches and his mouth is littered with missing teeth. As I put the note into his hat his smile widens and he thanks me. I shake my head, it’s nothing. ‘He’s rich’, sniffs Dimitri. Dimitri has a confident air, secure in his tanned skin and sturdy jaw. We met him and his girlfriend Kristina, both Russians who had moved to Israel, here at this intersection of streets with its clusters of tiny plastic chairs, always blue and red, where foreigners and some locals come to drink bia hoi, cheap fresh beer. It is poured from a vat into a glass mug, and charged at 3 000 Dong a glass. It is watery and yellow, but still satisfying and just cold enough. ‘Don’t feel sorry for him. They’re all rich.’ But he has one leg, I think. To beg here is a loss of face; men do not lose teeth and limbs and hold an empty hat to foreigners because they are rich. But I don’t say this to the confident tanned Dimitri, who has just a hint of aggression around his edges. Instead we swap stories about the skulduggery of professional beggars. I remember the women in Paris, headscarved and pleading poverty. I gave one ten euros out of pity and she chased after me wanting more. Outside Notre Dame they work in rotation, passing a baby to whoever is working the tourists. Some were even well made-up, looking bored.

I feel like a tightrope-walker talking to Israelis, skirting the topic of Palestine, nodding understanding about their talk of survival. Wondering silently about the brutality you read about. I ask about living in Israel, ask in the most general sense possible. Dimitri gives a reply which involves something about ‘those barbarians that surround us.’ I make a wry face and we call for more beer, but the man tells us he has run out. We move across the road to another place. It is so crowded we angle our chairs into the gutter, hunching forward. Kristina has drunk too much, and her accented English becomes even more accented. She is a nurse, but wants to be an artist. Dimitri seems silently supportive of this goal, though when she talks of being a vegetarian he becomes sneering.

Madam from our establishment appears, immaculate in a high-waisted skirt and white blouse. She orders us to pick up our chairs from the gutter, the police are coming. The police come by, perched in the back of their truck in army-green coloured uniforms. We stand on the kerb and hold our chairs, watching them watching us, and then they are gone. Everyone sits back down and drinking resumes.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 8

Across the road, a tree begins shaking above people’s heads and there is the smash of glass. A crowd of people appear instantly, and a siren wails. A fight has broken out, and everyone is looking. Kristina nods to a couple of young black men standing nearby, who I wouldn’t have noticed myself. ‘They’re drawn to the fighting. Just like in Harlem, New York’, she says good-naturedly, and laughs. ‘They want a fight,’ says Dimitri. I look into the bottom of my glass. ‘Oh, I think they’re just looking,’ I say. They look like curious American tourists to me.

There is talk of how long they are staying here, talk of meeting up. Kristina is keen to exchange email addresses, but Dimitri frowns. ‘No no, too complicated,’ he protests. We make provisional, loose arrangements to meet at the same place the next night. The next night it is raining. We don’t meet them. ‘I’m sure they’re not there either,’ I reason. The rain is a sound excuse.

SCHOOL TALK § Teresa Herleth Today in my Kura Maori lecture in Wellington Tecol, Bevan, our awesome male Maori lecturer, very cleverly expressed why it is important that Te Reo Maori - language, Maoritanga- culture, Tikanga- customs and Kura Whanaga - history need to be taught in Aotearoa / New Zealand schools. He pointed something out, which, when you think about it, it is naturally obvious yet remains to not be quite so obvious, and that is that Aotearoa/ New Zealand is the only land where children can learn about the Maori world. Regardless of where you are from if you go to a school in Germany, England, France, you learn the history of that country, why is it so different in Aotearoa schools? So let us provide our children with the opportunity to learn the Kura Whanaga and Maoritanga that is part of understanding their position in their country, the land to which they belong.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 9

DEAR AUNT AGATHA § Bronwyn Haines Dear Agony Aunt, I've embarrassed myself terribly in front of someone I really fancy. I don't remember what I said or did, but it can't have been good. What should I do?! From How Embarrassment Dear Ms Embarrassment, What you're experiencing is known as RGaP; Random Guilt and Paranoia. Everyone gets it when their memories of the night before are patchy. The good news is, the boy or girl in question has probably experienced plenty of RGaP, and totally knows how you feel. The other good news is that RGaP makes things seem worse than they actually are, and your actions probably weren't as shame-inducing as you think they were. If you're feeling uncomfortable about talking to Mr/Ms X in future, bite the bullet and send them a message via the social networking site of your choice acknowledging your embarrassment. Then, tap your heels together three times and pretend it never happened. xx Agony Aunt ******************************************************************************** Dear Aunt Agatha, Where should I take my date? I want to be romantic, but not too conspicuous or over the top. Garamasala Dear Garamasala, I'd say your best bet is Flying Burrito Brothers. It's not hugely cheap, but it's got the best date atmosphere in town - lots of low lighting and nice music. And enough novelty value (Mexican beer, tequila, pitchers of margarita) to get you through any patches of awkward conversation. Now, don't be fooled into thinking Sweet Mother's Kitchen would be a good (cheap) alternative. It may be one of best restaurants in town, but there's no way to look charming when trying to stuff an overflowing fish taco into your mouth. Besides, if your date starts making Flight of the Concords jokes it could be really embarrassing. You're bound to be sitting next to Bret McKenzie. xx Agony Aunt

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 10

COOKERY § Andrea O’Neil It’s the end of winter, innit, and if you’ve eaten nowt but parsnips and pumpkin for the past three months, why not consider un affair with that forgotten winter vegetable, the humble but mighty swede? I have come across three ways of preparing this veg – boiled and covered with white sauce – no thanks mum!; mashed with butter and bacon après Delia, obviously delicious; and an excellent recipe from Gordon Ramsay of all people – an amazing cardamom and thyme flavoured soup. So basically I’ve all but shamelessly nicked his recipe, with minor alterations. Note: I started making this soup in England, where for some reason root vegetables are EXTREMELY ROCK HARD, like it used to take me 45 minutes to chop two swedes. They seem to be much softer and less fibrous in New Zealand so to maintain the bulk of the original soup I’ve advised using three swedes rather than Gordon’s two. However, obviously being soup you can basically throw any amount of anything in and it’ll taste excellent.

Swede as soup! 3 tbsp olive oil 1 large onion, chopped 2 celery sticks, chopped Few sprigs fresh/1 teaspoon dried thyme 30g butter, cut into small pieces

6-8 cardamom pods 3 swedes, peeled and chopped 2 tbsp honey 1.5-2l hot chicken/vegetable stock 150ml cream Grating of nutmeg, to serve

1 Heat a large pan with the olive oil. Stir in the onion and celery and cook for a couple of minutes. Add the thyme and a few knobs of butter and seasoning. 2 Crush the cardamom pods with the back of a knife and add to the onions and celery. Sweat the onions for 5 more minutes until they are soft and translucent, but not browned. 3 Stir in the chopped swede, drizzle over the honey and cover the pan with a lid. This will encourage condensation and prevent the onions from burning. Cook over medium heat for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the swedes have softened and caramelised. If they do catch, simply add a little water. 4 Pour in enough hot stock to cover the vegetables and let simmer for a few more minutes. Stir in the cream and adjust the seasoning. 5 Gordon advises blending the soup in batches in a food processor, but I’ve always just used a hand-held stick blender. However, for some strange reason this soup tastes completely horrible if it’s not blended really smooth, so go hard! 6 Season again to taste and serve with a grating of nutmeg. Yummo!

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 11

PTERODACTYL 2K10: T-REX TROUBLE! § Sam Tidey Almost nobody is familiar with the abomination of a C-grade sci-fi movie, Pterodactyl. But I am. Released in 2005 to little fanfare, which is either surprising or unsurprising (I can't decide which) considering it starred Coolio, it was found on a dusty oft-overlooked sci-fi shelf in a local video store. For some unknown reason I decided it was the perfect movie to watch with a girl I had a crush on. For even more unknown reasons I decided the only way to truly impress her was to write a script for a sequel. You may (or may not) be surprised to learn it never did work out...

> Pterodactyl 2k10: T-Rex trouble! > > Characters: > > Willis: Willis is now an army drill sergeant after enlisting when he returned from Turkey. He realised that he must combine his scientific knowledge with the skill and discipline of the army to maximise his potential as a b-movie hero. He wants to find love, but has difficulty opening up. > > Troy: Coolio's orphan son. He is a headstrong and brash young cadet hoping to follow in the footsteps of his legendary father. His fiery attitude often lands him in hot water and wins him few friends but Willis sees something in him and has taken him under his wing, teaching him palaeontology after all the marching and shit you have to do as an army cadet. Troy will be played by Lil' Bow Wow > > Kelly: An army drill sergeant who is in love with Willis. She is curious about his mysterious past and wonders if this is why he can't make a move on her. Kelly will be played by Jodie Sweetin > > Dr Lovecraft: After the incident in Turkey Dr Lovecraft is now married to Kate and is working on a top secret laser weapon. > > Kate: She is now happily married to Dr Lovecraft and is helping him on the laser project. She is slightly troubled by the fact that her new husband now seems bent on the destruction of dinosaurs rather than studying them. > > Bulldog: Kate's father has returned from an assignment on the Turkey/Armenian border and brings news of a new prehistoric menace. > > > Scene 1: > > Lonely Pterodactyl plays in the background [this is a song off a children’s album of dinosaur songs I've had since the age of 5 - but it's totally epic anyway]

> > A baby pterodactyl that somehow survived the bomb in the volcano is exploring the depths of the cave searching for food. The camera zooms into the pterodactyl’s eye and as a single tear wells up and falls we can tell that this pterodactyl has seen some rough shit.

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 12

> The pterodactyl then resumes its quest to find food when it stumbles upon some mysterious eggs. As it tries to eat one a large shadow falls across the cave wall covering the pterodactyl. An electric guitar starts wailing in the background, the shadow is shaped like gasp! A T-Rex head! The camera fades to black as we see the baby pterodactyl narrow it's eyes and turning towards the shadow, ready for one last fight. > > Scene 2: > > Opening credits roll over a forest floor that is covered with boot prints interspersed with T-Rex footprints as lightning flashes from above. I want it all by Queen plays, this shows the audience that the T-Rexes mean business because they "want it all", where "it" is most likely to be minor characters as meals. > > Scene 3: > > At the army training base > > Kelly: Hey Willis, let's go have dinner and a movie. > > Willis: No, I can't. I must go for a run and then do some science. Maybe some other time. > > Kelly: Damnit Willis! Can't you see that I am in love with you! You are always running and never talk about your past. You can't keep running from your past, one day it will catch up to you. Why are you such an enigma? > > Willis: Kelly, you are a tasty biscuit, but I cannot commit to you. I would only end up hurting you. > > Kelly: I am very mad with you! Although you try your best to cast me aside and it really hurts my feelings if there is ever a secret and dangerous mission to go on I will go with you no questions asked even if you try to dissuade me. This is because I think that if my life is ever in peril you will finally show your true feelings towards me. > > Willis: I'm sorry Kelly. I wish I could love you, but I can't. I feel in love twice before and both times the women I cared for were eviscerated in horrific accidents and I wasn't able to protect them. > > Troy walks in > > Troy: Yo Willis! Although it is clear to me I have interrupted an important discussion my headstrong attitude prevents me from caring. Let's go for our run. > > Willis: Ok Troy. I'll just go get ready, meet me outside in 5. > > Troy leaves > > Kelly: I don't understand why you are so forgiving of him. All the other cadets hate him and so do I. > > Willis: I see something in him. And I also knew his father once, he was a great man. > > Kelly: I have heard of him. I heard he had some chart topping hits back in the mid 90's before becoming a legendary soldier and dying in a heroic fashion. Although he died a hero he was ultimately expendable, as is most often the case with black actors in action movies. To be continued...

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 13

ONE PAGE §

‘Invisible Cities’ by Italo Calvino

http://assemblymagazine.blogspot.com § 14