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Student Life

A guide to healthy and happy roommate cohabitation

We’re three weeks into the fall semester, and routines are already beginning to shuffle into place, whether that be dusty old study habits or the arrival of household responsibilities that come with living in shared spaces. For many McGill students, living with roommates is an exciting opportunity, a marker of newfound independence and adulthood. With this in mind, it’s important to remember that not everyone is prepared to be entering a shared living space for what may be their first time. Here is The Tribune’s guide to healthy and happy cohabitation.

Take advantage of accessible and free resources

The McGill Roommate Agreement Contract gets those awkward first conversations flowing, offering questions about cleanliness and visitors that are crucial when sharing a dorm or apartment with a stranger.

In an interview with The Tribune, Amelia Gourlay, U0 Arts, explained, “[The Roommate Contract] got the ball rolling on just conversation in general and how [my roommate and I] both wanted to cohabitate.”

If you’re sharing groceries and other expenses with your roommates, take advantage of free apps like Anylist and Splitwise to keep your finances and fridges organized. 

Be mindful that communal spaces are indeed communal

Nobody wants to live in a messy space, whether it’s a cluttered bathroom sink or crumbs all over the kitchen table. Keep this in mind, and clean up after yourself. 

“Be responsible and slightly hyper-aware of how you act [in shared spaces] and what you put out, from cleaning something to the way you speak. Be aware, true to who you are, and honest with yourself,” Ilia Mehr Bakhsh, U2 Arts, said in an interview with The Tribune

Making a chore chart is an easy way to divide daily and weekly tasks like taking the garbage out, cleaning the bathroom, and doing the dishes.

Embrace communication rather than fear it

For many of us, bringing up our roommate’s annoying habit can feel incredibly daunting. While this feeling is completely valid, strong relationships depend on honest communication. 

In an interview with The Tribune, Bakhsh added, “If you see your roommate do something wrong, don’t let that define them for you. But, also be open and be communicative and tell your roommate. Please, please, please communicate.”

Allow for trial and error

Sharing a living space is bound to be a continuous learning curve. Not every first attempt at task division will be a success; give yourself the space to grow with your roommates. Good things take time—Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

A common concern for those with roommates is how to go about grocery shopping. Some people prefer to buy and cook everything for themselves, whereas others prefer sharing groceries and cooking meals together.  

In an interview with The Tribune, Isabel Burns, U2 Arts, explained that she and her housemates are still figuring this out. 

“Our biggest concern right now is food. Splitting food and figuring out how we do that financially because food is expensive, and there [are] things that some people like that others don’t. That was a point of contention. Now we have switched to people buying their own food.” 

It is okay to change your mind; make mistakes and navigate cohabitation through trial and error. Be flexible and generous with your roommates and yourself.

Strive for a positive perspective
Reframing your opinion on having roommates can help uplift your experience. Roommates can be a lot of fun if you let them be; they can turn an apartment into a home. Even if you and your roommates are not destined to be best friends, consider the built-in companionship that their presence provides. Let your roommate situation be an opportunity for you to learn more about yourself and how you interact with others.

Album Reviews, Arts & Entertainment, Music

Pondering how infinity appears in Big Thief’s newest album 

On Sept. 5, Big Thief released its new studio album Double Infinity. For many, this album has been a source of confusion, as it is set so apart from much of the band’s work. For starters, the cover is optically exploratory in comparison to their others: It features a bright green lime encircled by ring-shaped peels. Additionally, the music itself is significantly more exploratory—surprising considering the album is produced by Dom Monks, who has been working with the band since their 2019 album Two Hands

Big Thief’s discography has seen an apparent movement towards experimentation over the years. Their debut album, Masterpiece, while unique in terms of production and lyricism, stands as a genre-conforming indie-rock album. However, with the growing faith of their listeners, Big Thief has embraced a new confidence in defying genre. 

In an interview with NPR, Adrianne Lenker, Big Thief’s lead singer, commented on one of the lyrics of “Grandmother,” their new album’s seventh track. “We’re going to turn it all into rock and roll. We’re going to transmute this energy and find a high frequency of love and recognize […] the gift of life.” 

To most, the album hardly sounds like rock and roll, which is characterised by a steady beat and simple phrasing. Double Infinity instead plays with lagging tempos and daring lyric-work. Not distinctly un-rock and roll—though definitely uncommon—the album also makes use of a German steel-stringed guitar, the zither. Shockingly, “Grandmother” lacks that signature rock sound. Instead, it features the loping vocals of Laraaji, an American ambient-musician notable for his defiance of musical convention. 

For the band, it seems that rock and roll shows up as less of a sound than an ideology. Big Thief aims to abandon the singularity of music categorisation, opting for layered vocals, a smorgasbord of genres, and a diverse range of instruments. The band explores the infinite shapes that music can take, reflected in the LP’s title. 

In the album’s title song, “Double Infinity,” the lyrics explore another meaning of the album’s name. During the chorus, Lenker sings, “At the bridge of two infinities / What’s been lost and what lies waiting.” This defines Double Infinity as a simultaneously endless existence of one’s past and future. 

As a dedicated Big Thief listener, I noticed Double Infinity projects an emphasized sense of self-observance. For example, the title song has a line which states, “Troubled mind let me rest / My life is full, my heart is blessed / And still you put me to the test.” Lenker uses the word “you” to refer to her own psyche and its recollection of the past. In other songs, such as “Los Angeles,” the lead singer does something similar; she notes a “you” who sang for her. Perhaps Lenker describes a self she found in LA: Her identity as a singer-songwriter. 

These lyrics suggest that the two infinities of Double Infinity are more than just the past and the future; they are the infinity of one’s identity within the present moment, and that of the identity that they remember from the past or envision for the future. 

Incomprehensible” provides an analysis of aging, with Lenker pondering the future ahead as she sojourns, “All across Ontario,” accompanied by her older self. In applying this understanding of the theme, “All Night All Day” stands out, for the song is written in the present tense and forms no attempt at remembrance or forward reach. The song describes the relationship between Lenker and her partner. It acts as a boon, providing an answer to what grants one respite from constant self-rumination: Love. This is mirrored in “Grandmother,” which features the suffering of an older woman plagued by her past self. The song states, “It’s alright, everything that happened happened,” followed by, “We are made of love.” 

Analyses aside, Big Thief’s newest album, Double Infinity, cannot be boiled down into one thesis—just like infinity itself. Listeners should approach the album with an open mind because the songs will take them exactly where they need to go, riding comfortably on the mystical twangs of a zither. 

Off the Board, Opinion

Embracing the unaesthetic

I love seeping into an aesthetic. Going for walks in the park in a long skirt, colour-coding my notes, listening to an ‘indie morning’ playlist over gentle sips of coffee. Yet, watching my grandfather empty the guts from a fish, I realized that aesthetic lifestyles set unrealistic expectations of beauty and alienate cultural practices and identities that don’t fit into aesthetic moulds. 

We were fishing off a pier on the Potomac, a B-grade river carrying industrial chemicals and sewage waste of Washington, DC. My grandfather propped three poles on the railing as we sat on folding camping chairs, tapping the poles to feign the aliveness of our bait. We caught three fish and dumped them in a margarine bucket. He killed the fish over the bucket’s lid, and laid them out on a nearby picnic bench. One was an invasive catfish, which only stopped flopping when he pulled the womb out. “The eggs are good fried,” he said, smiling. His hands were bloody and the fish’s moisture was still on my t-shirt. Was I living that cottagecore life? I was definitely enjoying nature—with all its beauty, excitement, and laughter—but not in the Pinterest-perfect way. 

Social media thrives through aesthetic and lifestyle trends, converging into genres such as light and dark academia, old money, and clean girl. These aesthetic categories represent more than fashion, encompassing films, music, products, and hobbies. Yet when trends include activities, those interests may become based on the aesthetic rather than the act. “Frolicking in the meadows” is not only not a hobby, but consequentially sets unrealistic visual expectations for a hobby. I like to bake but my bread could double as a cannonball. I enjoy hiking, but anticipate dirty sneakers. A person’s interests thus change when the trend inevitably falls out of style.  

In the past year, a counterculture of influencers have made themselves a niche in the ‘unaesthetic.’ Vlogs centre average morning routines and normal home decor. The unaesthetic sits within the broader trend of ‘de-influencing’—in which social media personalities attempt to dissuade hyper-consumption behaviours typical of viewers enjoying aesthetics-based platforms—and, in the process, pushes back on the unrealistic expectations of aesthetic lifestyles. Yet by making the unaesthetic a trend, it succumbs to the surrealism of aesthetic lifestyles. The unaesthetic becomes the next aesthetic, where authentically beautiful moments don’t fit into this new script of normalcy.

Products—from your cute local coffee shop to your favourite skincare company—promote their brand through the use of aesthetics. The reason for this strategy is clear: The consumer cannot try the product so therefore relies on advertisements to convey how the product would make them feel. However, this style of marketing often avoids talking about the substance of the product: How strong is the coffee? How fragrant is the perfume? It allows companies to mark up the price of a product or service, even if it is of average quality. Thus the consumer, interested in a particular aesthetic, will pay for the product’s vibe as much as for the item or service itself. Even the recent unaesthetic trend promotes unaesthetic products, subsequently treating the unaesthetic like another marketable aesthetic. 

Aesthetic idealism also sidelines cultural practices. Many aesthetics focus on ‘slow living’ and ‘rural’ lifestyles, often featuring charming villages and pretty views. Idealized rural life, however, fails to incorporate the livelihoods of many communities in the Global South. For example, thatched roof homes are a staple architectural practice all over the world, but only Western European homes are featured in ‘renovation inspo,’ and called ‘cottages’ over ‘huts.’ Lifestyles that promote material aestheticism are likewise incredibly expensive and antithetical to the cultures the aesthetic takes inspiration. While there is no rule about who can and cannot embrace a certain aesthetic, the foundations of many aesthetics fail to incorporate all cultures. 

My summer consisted of fishing, hanging out in cafes, baking pie, and walking on the beach; but the enjoyment came from the authenticity of moments with family and engagement of my culture, not an alignment with an aesthetic.

Commentary, Opinion

Quebec cuts into education in a callous attempt to balance its budget

After large public outcry from various parents’ associations, teachers, and administrators, the Quebec government rescinded the $570 million CAD budget cut it made to education back in June, promising to put $540 million CAD towards student services. Though this attempt at financial redress seems like a genuine commitment to meeting Quebecers’ demands and supporting education, it is simply a perfunctory measure to justify continued austerity measures, further degrading this province’s social programs.

Over the past few years, there has been a steady rise in right-wing populist governments in the United States and Canada, with politicians looking for any way to lower their debt, even if it comes at a great social cost. A striking example of this is the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) in the United States, a project spearheaded by billionaire Elon Musk. Musk established DOGE with the promise to cut $2 trillion USD in fraud, waste, and abuse. Instead, he cut just over ten thousand government contracts without reclaiming even a fraction of the money Musk insisted the government was wasting. Despite the United States’ threats against Canadian territorial sovereignty, the increasingly conservative American political climate is still deeply influential in Canadian public and political discourse, particularly when it comes to investments into education

The Coalition Avenir Québec’s (CAQ) commitment to reducing fiscal deficit has fallen similarly on the shoulders of essential social sectors. For many years, Quebec has had thousands of teaching positions vacant at the start of the school year. This isn’t due to a lack of trained professionals, but rather a quick turnover rate in the field: 20 to 30 per cent of teachers change careers within five years. Who could blame them when the government shows such blatant disregard for their profession? In addition, about 10 per cent of teaching staff in Quebec schools do not have a teaching diploma, causing the quality of education to suffer.

Quebec’s $540 million CAD bandaid package also comes with some stipulations—notably that all the money must be spent on student services. To ensure this, schools will have to prove what actions they are taking to reduce their budget, increasing their administrative burdens and further harming their operational efficiency. In making expectations of educational institutions’ budget reporting more strict, the CAQ government problematizes schools’ ability to mobilize their budgets into concrete projects. Although the Quebec Government is restoring the majority of the original budget, these funds are more difficult to access and translate less efficiently into meaningful changes in schools.

Even before financial cuts, education in Quebec faced an extremely tight budget. The government’s further restrictions will disproportionately harm children with learning disabilities. The staff and tools required to address their needs have been particularly targeted by the budget cuts. Schools have a duty to provide an equitable learning environment for all of their students; it is especially crucial to help those with special needs at a young age. 

While the goal of reducing the debt is a noble pursuit, the Quebec government has demonstrated that it is willing to slash crucial spending for public education while spending exorbitantly on other projects. In February 2023, Quebec launched SAAQclic, an online platform for the Société de l’assurance Automobile du Québec which went over budget by $500 million CAD and ultimately failed. Evidently, when it comes to fiscal responsibility, the CAQ government is not only incompetent but entirely inimical to those whose interests they are meant to serve.is not only incompetent but entirely inimical to those whose interests they are meant to serve.

Since the Quiet Revolution, Quebec has prided itself on having strong labour unions and a commitment to social services. It has the highest provincial income tax rate and a large per cent of the money goes to funding public services that benefit all Quebecers regardless of class. Paying these taxes becomes harder to justify once the services citizens receive are a shell of what they once were. Quebec’s debt must be reduced, but it cannot come at the cost of the future generations.

Art, Arts & Entertainment

‘Pounding the Pavement’ grapples with the ethics of representation in street photography

Montreal street photographer Gilbert Duclos and then–17 Pascale Claude Aubry engaged in a 10-year legal battle after he photographed her in public and published the image without her consent. As a result, in April 1998, the court ruled that although such photographs could still be legally taken in the public sphere, their publication would be prohibited without the permission of the subject. 

Pounding the Pavement, now showing at the McCord Stewart Museum, sets out to capture the zeitgeist of Montreal through the lens of a bygone era prior to the so-called ‘Affaire Duclos,’ when street photographers were uninhibited by the photo-rights of their subjects. The advancement in modern technology and the lag of the laws that followed created a unique few decades in which, unsuspecting of a camera flash, the urban landscape and all its inhabitants could be photographed in their most dramatic, telling, and often ridiculous forms. 

Pounding the Pavement aims to present Montreal life, energy, and conflict through a variety of viewpoints, resulting in a diverse subject matter. It attempts to cast light on working class, queer, multiethnic, and Indigenous history unraveling on the city’s streets. 

However, for an exhibition based on the idea that a complete image of Montreal can only ever be achieved through a multitude of viewpoints, the photographers themselves hail from remarkably homogenous backgrounds. Although it features several women and queer photographers, almost all participants are white, and a vast majority possess at least one university degree. Bruce McNeil, the key exception as the only racialized photographer featured—who specifically talks about social injustice in his work—was a McCord Steward Museum employee at the time they amassed his photographic collection. This raises questions about the level of intention behind his inclusion. 

Despite its lack of diversity, Pounding the Pavement has a direct focus on the experience of Montreal’s urban working class, often living below the poverty line, an experience unlikely to be relatable to many of the degree-holding contributors to the exhibit. Their relation to the largely young, disenfranchised, or marginalized subjects is starkly similar to that of the museum guests, who pay $17 CAD to leave the bustling Sherbrooke street and wander wide-eyed through an austere, white-walled building, viewing selective projections of a conceptualized outside city. The display grapples with an idea of urban grit through a perspective that is eminently upper-class and isolated from many of Montreal’s foundational working communities.

Nevertheless, it would be a stretch to call the printed work of these majority white men photographers an entirely inaccurate artistic pursuit. There is nothing necessarily untrue about their depictions. However, they likely resonate more with many of the exhibition’s similarly-backgrounded viewers than the average Montrealer. The image—leaving behind a large portion of Montreal’s residents—is unfinished. 

Pounding the Pavement never explicitly states its opinion on the ‘Affaire Duclos,’ but hints that the evolution of photo rights led to the decline of street photography—showing subjects how they desired to be seen takes away the honesty of their portrait. And truthfully, the featured images, ripped from a spur-of-the-moment intensity, appear genuinely unique to a time in which photographers had unbridled control over image rights. However, this exclusive power of storytelling is not entirely synonymous with realistic narratives, as subjects unable to consent have no power to request that a photographer capture their life as they see it.

Inclusivity goes beyond the mere formality of representing the underrepresented, and thus, a narrative of a city told only through the lens of its upper-class residents is not just unethical, but also incomplete—no matter how talented its writers are. Pounding the Pavement is a deeply creative sight that is unable to achieve its vision of capturing the innate diversity, and therefore essence, of Montreal.

Behind the Bench, Football, Sports

The NFL’s creepy new AI ad is proof the league is out of touch

Fans of the National Football League (NFL) watching the season opener between the Dallas Cowboys and Philadelphia Eagles on Sept. 4 may have been surprised to see a giant AI-generated baby staring back at them during a commercial break. More shocking, though, is the fact that it was an official NFL ad.

Ride the Float” is the first advertisement in the NFL’s 2025 season kickoff campaign titled “You Better Believe It.” The ad is a minute long, takes place on an enormous parade float, and is chock-full of celebrity cameos and references to each of the NFL’s 32 teams. On paper, it is a promising concept, with potential to inspire the excitement typical of the football season’s debut. In practice, however, everything about the ad feels kind of… off. 

Whenever a scene in “Ride the Float” includes a crowd of people, the group is composed of faceless humanoids moving in a way that can only be described as inorganic. A giant hovering bear in a Chicago uniform squirms artificially above the float. Most disturbing, though, is the baby. Decked out in full Las Vegas Raiders gear, the infant is so obviously AI-generated that it is easy to forget the ad was produced by a league whose teams are worth $7.1 billion USD on average.

In the NFL’s eyes, however, this strategy is right on target. In a press release accompanying the “You Better Believe It” campaign, Tim Ellis, the NFL’s Chief Marketing Officer, said, “Our fans are at the heart of this campaign — their joy, optimism and belief in what’s possible — and we embraced AI to bring them even closer to the game they love.” 

According to the same press release, the ad’s blend of generative AI and computer-generated imagery was meant to give the NFL’s creative team “freedom to experiment.”

But for viewers, it does not feel like “Ride the Float” delivered anything new, or at least anything that could not have been achieved without AI. Fans’ opinions of the ad were dismal. Claiming that the league used generative AI for “innovation” is, frankly, insulting—watching the ad makes it clear that this was simply a cost-cutting measure. For a league with as much money and popular appeal as the NFL, such blatant dismissal of the idea that fans might want a final product with substance is significant. It implies to viewers that the NFL does not care about them—only about their bottom line.

Aside from its AI use, “Ride the Float” further signals how out of touch the NFL is. In a glossary accompanying the campaign’s press release, the league tries to define the word ‘aura.’ The best definition the NFL can come up with for this intangible, powerful vibe is, “Aura = something you want to have.” If the marketing team had taken five minutes to ask anyone familiar with popular culture at all, they would have come up with a much better definition. 

The NFL’s out-of-touch problem extends further than the campaign. A beloved Sunday tradition for NFL fans is NFL RedZone, a seven-hour nonstop whiparound show covering every game of the day. For years, host Scott Hanson would start the show by saying, “Seven hours of commercial-free football starts now.” That promise has disappeared this year, as ads have begun to infiltrate the program, to the anger and frustration of many. The show is already only available by subscription—starting at $14.99 USD a month—so existing subscribers feel as if any return on investment is going away. As RedZone shows, the NFL is seeking any opportunity it can to monetize the love of the game, and everyone is expected to just accept it.

So, where should the NFL go from here? The answer is simple: They need to listen to their fans. At the end of the day, football supporters are the lifeblood of the league, as in any sport. With fans’ overwhelmingly negative responses to the NFL’s AI-generated ads and RedZone commercials, it is clear the NFL needs to rethink their priorities and start putting viewers first again. 

Horoscopes, Student Life

The Tribune Predicts: Fall horoscopes

With the add-drop period ending, the sun setting earlier, and the days getting colder, fall is inevitably on the horizon. While we can’t predict your GPA, The Tribune consulted the stars to see what autumn has planned for you.

Aries (March 21 – April 19): Aries, you will juggle your numerous extracurricular activities like a pro, but that one bird course you thought would be easy will turn out to be a hassle. Prioritize time management, attend office hours, and speak with TAs this fall. It will help you more than you think.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20): The colder days and earlier sunsets will throw you off from your usual rhythm. You might feel like there is never enough time to do everything, but remember that there are only 24 hours in a day. Don’t overwork yourself, and take time to breathe this season.

Gemini (May 21 – June 21): Caffeine and the McLennan Library will be your closest companions. But don’t worry—those long nights spent rereading the same sentence in your textbook for the third hour in a row will (hopefully) generate fruitful results. You’re in for a ride. Good luck!

Cancer (June 22 – July 22): Your work ethic will lead to the discovery of some of the best study spots and hidden gems on campus and beyond. Due to your work load, you might consider dropping out (more than twice), but you’ll also find that new, cozy places across Montreal will save you from spiraling out of control.

Leo (July 23 – Aug. 22): You //love// being right, but this fall, you might have to start questioning yourself. An overly bold email to a professor could be just the tip of the iceberg. Being so sure of everything may cost you a grade, a friend, or something else you care about. Proceed with caution.

Virgo (Aug. 23 – Sept. 22): Happy birthday, Virgos! This season, someone new will enter your life, maybe as a study partner at the Nahum Gelber Law Library or a new friend at Bar des Arts. Whether this connection grows into a close friendship or something more, pay attention because it will shape the rest of your year—for better or for worse.


Libra (Sept. 23 – Oct. 23): You crave balance, but you will find yourself caught in chaos. Expect last-minute schedule changes, late assignment discoveries, and miscommunication with friends. However, things will smooth out towards the end, and this season will have finally taught you to master the art of patience.

Scorpio (Oct. 24 – Nov. 21): Love is in the air for you, Scorpio. Everyone will have their eyes on you, and not because you’re always late to class. Whether you deepen a current relationship, reconnect with someone from the past, or meet someone new, expect attention to follow you everywhere.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22 – Dec. 21): You will level up professionally this season. Whether you find a job, earn a promotion, or finally join the club you’ve been eyeing, your resume is in for a serious glow-up. 

Capricorn (Dec. 22 – Jan. 19): Like Libras, you can expect change to come fast this season. From unexpected deadlines to extracurricular commitments you forgot you signed up for, you will be forced to branch out of your comfort zone and adapt. Luckily, your natural ambition will help you navigate this season of change with extreme ease.

Aquarius (Jan. 20 – Feb. 18): Your social life will boom this season. Between club meetings, family events, parties, and concerts, you’ll barely have time to breathe. Just remember to find time to study. After all, summer is over, and your midterms won’t ace themselves.

Pisces (Feb. 19 – March 20): Will you change majors, find a new hobby, or finally let go of something holding you back? Only time will tell. But one thing is for sure: A new beginning awaits you in an important area of your life. 

Arts & Entertainment, Internet, Music

VMAs? More like Tate McRae concert

The 2025 MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs) aired on Sept. 7, featuring stunning looks, heartfelt speeches, and star-studded performances. Out of 13 impressive numbers, one stood out from the rest: Tate McRae’s. Her showstopping performance solidified her status as the best dancer in the music industry.

Accompanied by a group of dancers, Tate McRae performed a mashup of “Revolving Door” and “Sports Car,” two songs off her latest album, So Close to What, with choreography by Robbie Blue. The number begins with more conceptual choreography as McRae and her dancers demonstrate their flexibility, contorting themselves into seemingly impossible shapes. It then concludes with a complex dance sequence: McRae steps onto a sand-covered stage, where every movement sends dust scattering artfully around her and her dancers. The VMAs’ performance-heavy format can become tiring to watch, but McRae’s act broke the evening’s monotony, captivating the attention of at-home viewers and celebrities alike. From lifts and splits and fire to sand, she left viewers in awe. 

For those familiar with her background, McRae’s level of excellence was not a surprise: Tate McRae was a household name in the dance world before she became one of today’s rising popstars. As a child, she trained at the Professional Division of the School of Alberta Ballet, one of Canada’s top ballet schools. She holds some of the most coveted titles in the dance world, winning silver at the Youth American Grand Prix  in 2015—the largest ballet competition and scholarship audition in the world. The star also won the American National title of Best Dancer at The Dance Awards three times: As a mini (2013), a junior (2015), and a teen (2018). She even participated in So You Think You Can Dance: The Next Generation at age 12, placing third against the best of the best child dancers in the United States. As one of the most decorated child dancers in the industry, many view Tate McRae as a dance prodigy.

This professional training was on full display in her VMAs performance last week. While other performances included dances as part of their musical acts, no choreography came close to matching the difficulty and precision demonstrated by McRae and her dancers. Both Sabrina Carpenter and Lady Gaga, for example, performed the viral choreography from their respective music videos. Carpenter recreated the “dance break” in the music video for her song “Tears,” completing a series of jazz-like steps. Similarly, Lady Gaga’s performance incorporated the iconic moves from her music video for “Abracadabra,” which consists largely of upper-body movements to imitate a monster-like figure. When viewing these performances alongside McRae’s, it becomes apparent that Carpenter’s and Gaga’s dances are far more rudimentary. This is not to say that simplicity is bad. In fact, it’s their dances’ simplicity that allows them to become viral trends, as fans can easily replicate the routines. TikTok users, for instance, frequently recreate the dances from both “Tears” and “Abracadabra,” thereby circulating the songs and increasing their popularity. 

While virality is certainly appealing to most artists as it expands their outreach, what makes Tate McRae’s performance stand out is its unachievable nature. McRae’s routine is not something the average person can recreate in their living room without breaking their backs (and probably taking some furniture out with them too). The mastery required for McRae’s performance creates a satisfying contrast to the night’s more basic performances, making her the obvious standout.

Ultimately, 2025 VMA performers like Sabrina Carpenter and Lady Gaga are singers who can also dance. Tate McRae, conversely, is a dancer who also sings. Tate McRae’s performance last week was career-defining as it separated her from other popstars, proving that she is in a league of her own.

Editorial, Opinion

With far-right extremism on the rise, McGill must actively counter hate

On Sep. 9, white nationalist group the Second Sons announced the opening of a Montreal division. This expansion is part of a rising wave of extremist ‘active clubs’ across Eastern Canada. Framed as organizations propagating a combination of fitness and men’s mentorship, these ‘active clubs’ co-opt medieval aesthetics and martial rhetoric to recruit young men and promote an ethos of nationalism, misogyny, and white supremacy. The group’s rhetoric frames white Canadians as victims of cultural displacement, a narrative rooted in the “Great Replacement” theory, which villainizes immigrants and people of colour. 

This growth is not atypical: neo-Nazi active clubs have increased by 25 per cent worldwide since 2023, with more than 181 active chapters operating in 27 countries, including Canada. The announcement of the Second Sons’ Montreal chapter follows a recent march by a “Canadian men’s nationalist” group, which took place in Ontario’s Niagara Region over Labour Day weekend. 

Resurging white nationalism across Quebec and Ontario poses pressing questions of student susceptibility and institutional responsibility at universities like McGill. Universities are not only targets for recruitment, but also risk becoming complicit in fostering hate when such conversations are presented as innocuous ‘debate.’ These organizations openly encourage violence and target marginalized communities that form much of McGill’s diverse and international student body. While recruitment for these groups often happens off-campus, universities are crucial in shaping whether such rhetoric is normalized or rejected. McGill has previously hosted speakers whose rhetoric dehumanizes entire communities, such as Mosab Hassan Yousef, a former Israeli military informant who has made explicitly Islamophobic statements that frame an entire religious group as expendable. By allowing speakers like Yousef on campus, McGill reinforces extremist rhetoric and signals to socially vulnerable students that dehumanizing communities is acceptable discourse, in turn encouraging these students to delve into hateful extremist ideologies. 

In Quebec, this increase in political and ideological extremism cannot be viewed as an isolated incident. The province’s increasingly conservative political climate—particularly around topics such as immigration and secularism—has enabled policies that disproportionately affect religious minorities. Provincial leaders consistently scapegoat immigrants for social and economic hardships, most notably the housing and healthcare crises. Premier François Legault, for instance, has falsely claimed that 100 per cent of Quebec’s housing crisis can be attributed to immigrants. This environment redirects economic and cultural anxieties away from structural issues and toward scapegoated ‘outsiders.’ Extremist groups exploit this dynamic, channeling public frustration into racialized hostility. By positioning themselves as defenders of ‘heritage’ and masculinity, organizations like the Second Sons weaponize economic hardships—particularly rising living costs—to recruit young men into white nationalist networks. 

The establishment of a Montreal division of the Second Sons only fortifies the immediacy of this risk. If left unaddressed, the rise of white nationalist and extremist groups in Quebec undoubtedly leave McGill students, particularly those who feel socially isolated, amenable to joining hateful networks. In 2020, McGill students attempted to form a ‘White Students Union’ with the baseless rationale that McGill does not serve the interests of white students. This example alone should be a wake-up call for the McGill administration that campus spaces are not immune to white supremacy. 
Universities have a responsibility to provide supportive environments that combat bigotry by offering accessible mental health resources, anonymous peer-support lines, and inclusive social spaces that strongly counteract hateful ideologies. McGill must actively reject hate speech and abolish existing platforms for extremism, and instead foster critical media literacy and community-building. By prioritizing student safety, belonging, and mental health, McGill can prevent far-right radicalization and protect its marginalized communities, all while setting a crucial precedent for other universities, and greater Quebec, to follow suit.

Commentary, Opinion

McGill’s notice of default with QPIRG demonstrates hostility towards student activism

On Aug. 8, four McGill unions signed an open letter in solidarity with the Quebec Public Interest Research Group (QPIRG) in response to McGill’s notice of default on QPIRG’s Memorandum of Agreement (MoA). In the notice, the university threatened to suspend student funding to the group if it did not retract its support for the Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights (SPHR). 

In their open letter, the four unions—the Association of McGill University Support Employees (AMUSE), the Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM), the Association of McGill University Research Employees (AMURE), and the Association of McGill Professors of the Faculty of Arts (AMPFA)—condemned this notice of default and praised QPIRG for its invaluable contributions to McGill’s community, including its textbook loan program, community research, and affordable programming. Suspending their funding would jeopardize these initiatives, creating disadvantages for students relying on the affordability and opportunities QPIRG provides. 

The open letter raised concerns about the threat to organizational autonomy that the notice of default poses; the termination of QPIRG’s MoA not only demonstrates McGill’s neglect of the group’s crucial role in the uplifting of the McGill community, but also follows a broader pattern of hostility towards peaceful pro-Palestinian activism.

This is not the only time McGill has targeted a student organization for its support of the Palestinian liberation movement. McGill sent a notice of default to SSMU in July 2024, claiming that SPHR—which was then a SSMU-sanctioned club—was violating the MoA between the union and McGill by “intimidating and harassing” community members despite its peaceful protests. In this letter, McGill demanded that SSMU remove SPHR’s status as an official SSMU organization and halt its funding, eventually threatening to terminate SSMU’s contract if they failed to do so. Despite disagreeing with the notice of default, SSMU removed SPHR from its official clubs. This decision was made concerning how the threat of further action would hinder SSMU’s ability to sustain its clubs, services, and members. 

In perhaps its most blatant abuse of institutional power to date, McGill sent a notice expressing intent to terminate its contract with SSMU in April for hosting a three-day strike that called for divestment from companies complicit in Israel’s genocide in Palestine. 72 per cent of voting SSMU members democratically voted for the strike. Although McGill and SSMU restored their MoA following a lengthy mediation period this past summer, threatening to cut ties with SSMU over the student strike is deeply hypocritical. McGill’s blatant pattern of violence against student activism —such as using tear gas against protestors and employing external police forces to dismantle the pro-Palestinian encampment in July 2024—demonstrates a blatant overreach of institutional leverage. 

McGill’s willing and persistent repression of mobilization for—or even association with—the Palestinian liberation movement is deeply concerning, especially when this repression terminates crucial university services. Considering how essential both QPIRG and SSMU are to the McGill community, it is apparent that McGill will stop at no limits to stifle pro-Palestine action among the student body. Its multiple threats to terminate contracts with student-run organizations, simply for affiliating with the pro-Palestine movement unjustly strips these organizations of their organizational autonomy.
Furthermore, McGill’s despotic repression of student movements that do not align with its agenda is alarming. McGill students have historically played a central role in social movements, speaking out against the apartheid in South Africa and the Vietnam War. If student advocacy back then pushed McGill to become the first Canadian university to divest from South Africa, then McGill should treat students’ pro-Palestinian activism with due respect. McGill must rescind its notice of default on QPIRG and allow them to continue to support SPHR and its pro-Palestinian efforts; it is not for them to dictate what their students can or cannot advocate for.

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