With the Tabloid Issue approaching and pitches running somewhat dry, two of Critic Te Ārohi’s most chaotic staff (us) turned to what we do best: shit-stirring. One of us writes horoscopes and the other wrote the love story of the century (Critic Bachelor). Between us, we knew exactly how to save the mag: by making a fanpage for OUSA’s Finance and Strategy Officer, Daniel Leamy.
Phase One: An Idea is Born
Walking home one night, we had a vision. Daniel Leamy deserved a fan club. After last year's debacle where we reported on the fact that he had been scammed out of $1000 of his own money mere weeks into his term, we thought the guy could use a bit of love from Critic. Tall, funny, financially traumatised, we knew he was the total package and thought others must too. So after one too many Pint Nights filled with OUSA chatter, we decided the only logical step was to create a club in his honour. This would both entertain our readers and allow us to indulge in our shit-posting under the guise of journalism. So we decided that first thing in the morning, we’d create an Instagram account. We went to bed smiling, thrilled that we’d devised a way to save the Tabloid Issue.
Phase Two: The Creation of @Daniel_Leamy_Lover
As any good fan base knows, Instagram is the place to create an online shrine to worship one's idol. However, we hit a hurdle almost immediately. Daniel is a private guy. Our only photo source was the official OUSA portrait, which we lovingly edited and recycled for both the profile pic and the first post. To add legitimacy, Molly made a Canva post advertising a “Daniel Leamy Fan Club AGM” and slapped a poll on it. Credibility: established. Looking long-term, we planned to attend the AGM as “reporters for Critic” (which was kind of true) and see who showed up. Would we bring in a crowd? Would Daniel attend? Would undercover Daniel #Larmy members come out of the woodwork for this once-in-a-lifetime event?
Phase Three: Avoiding Suspicion
The account went live. Five minutes later, Molly got a message from News Reporter Gryffin asking if she had made the account. Deny, deny, deny! Hanna sent a preemptive screenshot to the Critic staff group chat of the account with a “????” to try to stave off any suspicions.
Twenty-one minutes in and Daniel himself made contact via DM. This made us worried, both for our jobs and our friendship with Daniel. “Lol who TF is this?” Panic. Then cackling. We replied: “Hey Daniel, love your work! You’ll have to come to the AGM to find out xxx.” He didn't block us. So we moved on.
We pretended we were doing a news piece on the “mystery”, polling the Exec on who they thought made the account. Watching them speculate was pure joy. Daniel showed up at the Critic office trying to identify his “biggest fans” and Editor Nina (bless her) insisted she had no idea, despite being the only person we’d been able to spill to (needed to dibs some magazine real estate). Culture Editor Jordan threw their name in the ring as the could-be creator, conveniently throwing suspicion off our trail. Chaos ensued.
Phase Four: Affiliation
Now that we had gotten the word out, we decided it was time to go legit. Achieving OUSA club affiliation is everything any serious executive could hope for. Unfortunately, this had some barriers. AGMs require 10 people (90% of which need to be students) and the drafting of a constitution, as well as voting in executive members. Nervous about blowing our cover, Hanna devised a plan to host the AGM under the guise of ‘pres’ for a night out. As we were cutting it close to Tabloid print deadline, we also decided that we needed to recruit the help of an Exec member to fast-track our affiliation – a man on the inside, if you will.
We hit a snag. OUSA President Liam White was… not amused. He warned us that if staff were behind the account, it could be seen as harassment. Uh oh. We hit pause on the plan and quietly asked Daniel if he wanted to complain. He didn’t (phew), but we figured we’d better bring him in properly. We also pulled Academic Rep Stella aside and spilled everything. She agreed to help but also said we would need another Exec member. As Daniel entered our circle of trust, he crossed his arms and tried to keep a straight face. “What's this about?” he asked, and as soon as he saw our faces, he knew. He didn't run away. In fact he seemed… flattered? Aw.
Phase Five: IGM of the Century
With Daniel semi-consensually on-board, and Tabloid Issue deadlines getting increasingly closer, the team kicked things into high gear. The club’s inaugural general meeting (IGM) took place at Hanna’s flat, where six people showed up in person and four people zoomed in. Positions were assigned: Molly as President (Mrs Leamy), Sub-Editor Ellie as Vice-President (Mrs Leamy II), Hanna as Secretary (Leamy Legend), and contributor Ella as Treasurer (Leamy Legend II). We passed the constitutions, took a blurry photo for Instagram, and celebrated our new club status by dancing the night away at Carousel.
Phase Seven: The OUSA showdown
Fuelled by confidence for our supposedly ‘bulletproof constitution’, we headed to an actual OUSA meeting to make it official. And – we failed. Turns out we needed a separate document outlining our club’s purpose, something we found out after waiting an hour and a half as the Exec crawled through the meeting agenda, including slashing most of the 103 referendum questions. Rookie mistake. For now, our dreams are on hold until the next meeting where we can become affiliated… hopefully.
@Daniel_Leamy_lover may not last forever. Maybe Daniel will send us a cease and desist. Maybe the club will be dissolved because, honestly, it probably should be. But for one beautiful week, we created something absurd and joyful. A reminder that even in the darkest weeks of mid pitches, deadline stress, financial ruin, and a side of our actual degrees, all you need is one willing Finance and Strategy Officer, a little bit of Canva, and a healthy dose of secret squirrel giggles to maintain a bit of joy in the face of looming exams.
Long live Daniel. Love live the Larmy. Please don't fire us.