Tall Poppy Syndrome Is A Slave Morality

Artistic representations of nationhood in a country with healthy self-confidence (left) are very different to what we get in New Zealand (right)

The Scandinavians call it Jantelagen, Nietzsche called it slave morality, we call it the Tall Poppy Syndrome, but it all amounts to the same thing – a horizontalisation of social attitude that bitterly refuses to give credit where it’s due; a sneering, snivelling resentment that seeks to rip down anyone who distinguishes themselves for any reason.

Unlike us, the Scandinavians and the Continental Europeans are sophisticated enough to appreciate that this is a phenomenon of their culture and are able to consciously work against it. So too do the British recognise that their tolerance of eccentricity has enabled them to produce the geniuses necessary to remain a world power.

The gormless peasants that make up the bulk of the New Zealand populace are yet to comprehend such a thing, however, and so the lawnmower mows on.

So neglected are we down here in the world’s arsehole, so starved of genuine regard from those of other nations that we have gone blind in the darkness and turned on each other.

We should be ashamed for our Tall Poppy Syndrome. It really makes us look like a nation of cucks.

After all, it’s a classic expression of slave morality. Tall Poppy logic is even more resentful than Christianity.

Resentful Christians tell themselves that “the meek shall inherit the Earth” to make themselves feel better about how easily their massively egotistical selves can be made to feel fear and consequently how easily they can be intimidated away from conflict.

The modern Kiwi tells himself something very similar. His byword is “the mediocre shall inherit the Earth.”

In this environment, the worst insult of all is to be a “try-hard”. This is to commit the sin of putting an effort into something, as opposed to the socially approved method of doing a half-arsed job that soon has to be fixed.

The logic appears to be that if anyone did anything properly, then overall standards would soon rise and soon people would be demanding that we did everything properly. And that’s just a hassle.

Therefore it’s better to half-arse everything so that no-one has to feel bad for being incompetent.

This is how we arrived at the Orange Man animation that the television shows us to try and entice us into giving our consent to be ruled by the political class.

Whichever creative agency that invented the Orange Abortion no doubt would have paid due caution to ensuring that the image intended to represent the New Zealand voter didn’t exclude anyone.

Because if it did, they would have resented the shit out of it. We know this because that’s our culture.

Therefore, the New Zealand voter ends up being represented by an amorphous orange blob – one that stirs precisely zero national sentiment in the viewer.

This feeble absence of passion is the inevitable result of a national morality based on resentment. Nobody gets to have anything interesting or do anything interesting.

We have created a culture so boring that our young people would rather cheat death by smoking random chemicals sprayed on dried plant matter purchased from known criminal gangs than partake in society.

A nation so petty that the Government pissing $400,000,000 up the wall every year on the War on Cannabis goes without censure, but a future Green MP defrauding the same Government out of a few hundred dollars to feed a dependent child twenty years ago sparks a national outrage.

It’s time for a radical revaluation of values in New Zealand.

Te Reo With Mnemonics: Animal Words

Dog – kurī

A dog and a man are walking along a path. The dog turns to the man and says “Can you carry me for a bit?”

Cat – tori

A cat dressed in a three piece suit with an expensive hat walks down the street with Margaret Thatcher, David Cameron and some other Tory Party politicians (use the closest to a Tory politician you can think of).

Bird – manu

A bird flies through the forest, and as it lands it takes the form of a man (if you know a man named Manu, imagine it taking his form).

Pig – poaka

Two pigs walk up to a sleeping woman. “Is she awake?” one asks. “I don’t know – poke her.” The first one then pokes the sleeping woman with a trotter.

Rat – kiore

A rat runs through a restaurant with an apple core in its mouth.

Chicken – pī

A chicken struts along the ground pecking at peas.

The Maori word for billy goat – koati toa – shares a k-t-t- pattern with the English word ‘quartet’

Mouse – kiore iti

[Literally means “small rat”] A mouse is busy eating an apple core. The mouse is the core eater.

Horse – hōiho

Eeyore the donkey from Winnie the Pooh series walks through a paddock, only instead of a donkey he is a horse.

Billy goat – koati toa

Four billy goats sing in a barber’s shop. They are the Billy Goat Quartet.

Deer – tia

A deer emerges from the forest wearing a scintillating tiara.

Cow – kau

A cow in a skirt hits a golfball off a tea. She is the famous bovine golfer Lydia Kau.

Fish – ika

A boy runs up behind a girl and places a fish on the back of her neck. The girl shrieks: “EEEK!”

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The above is an excerpt from the upcoming Learn Maori Vocabulary With Mnemonics, by Jeff Ngatai, due to be published by VJM Publishing in the summer of 2017/18.

Cannabis Prohibition is a Pakeha Law With No Place in Aotearoa

The Maoris’ lack of historical exposure to alcohol meant that, for British settlers, the drug had a similar effect to a targeted bioweapon

Maoris are severely disadvantaged by the laws around recreational drugs for biological reasons. The Pakeha that introduced these laws knew about these biological reasons, and so they created a set of drug laws specifically designed to keep Maoris down. This essay looks at how.

Human use of alcohol dates back into prehistory. It is believed that civilisations in the Fertile Crescent were brewing a simple form of mead as far back as 8,000 B.C., and we’ve never stopped brewing it. After all, the effects of alcohol make some of the unpleasant aspects of life much easier to deal with.

Not every culture adopted alcohol at the same time, however. Use of it spread from the Fertile Crescent to nearby cultures, and then further afield, until it was introduced to Maoris in the late 18th century.

Alcohol is everywhere now, but, as any cosmopolitan worthy of the name could tell you, the various people of the world behave in different ways to the drug.

The basic rule is this: the greater the length of time that an individual’s ancestors have been exposed to alcohol, the greater the opportunity there has been for genes that lead to poor outcomes from alcohol use (in particular, violence and/or physically reckless behaviour, and alcoholism) to have been eliminated from that individual’s gene pool.

Middle Easterners tend to behave the best on alcohol, for the reason that they have been exposed to it for maybe 10,000 years. This means that, for a hundred centuries, anyone carrying genes that led them to go crazy on alcohol would have died at a significantly higher rate than their fellows.

Southern Europeans and Northern Africans are the next best behaved, because they were next to be introduced to the drug, and Northern Europeans, especially the British from which the majority of Kiwis descend, have themselves had between 2,500 and 5,000 years of exposure.

The Maoris, by contrast, have had 200 years of exposure to alcohol. Although trading rum for various goods and services was basically how interracial relations began in New Zealand, two centuries is not very long in evolutionary terms.

What that means, in practice, is that Maoris carrying genes that lead them to go crazy on alcohol, although they certainly die at a significantly higher rate than their fellows, have not done so for long enough for Maoris as a whole to have built up the genetic resistance to the drug that Kiwis of British ancestry have.

This explains why, if you put half a dozen standard drinks into 100 Maoris and 100 Pakeha, the Maoris would have significantly worse outcomes. It’s not a question of willpower or lack of mental discipline or fortitude, any more than the higher rate of skin cancer among Pakeha is a question of those things. Both are matters of explicable biology.

The fact is that alcohol has literally been used as a bioweapon against Maoris.

The logic about genetic resistance was understood by British colonialists well before anyone was aware of such things as genes. By the time the Empire had made it as far as New Zealand, it had had two hundred years of observing the effects of the drug on the natives of Africa, the Americas and Australia, and it had noted that in almost every case the social structure of those natives was obliterated by exposure to it.

They therefore knew full well what was going to happen when they introduced the Maoris to rum, and outcomes like Kororareka – “The Hellhole of the South Pacific” – were inevitable.

It was known that exposure to alcohol was going to cause the Maoris to fight each other and kill themselves, because there had been ample opportunity to see that happen elsewhere.

This genetic vulnerability to alcohol explains why Maori culture has taken so eagerly to cannabis. The majority of Maoris have tried cannabis at some point in their lives, and many of those prefer it to alcohol, for the straightforward biological reasons explained above.

For many Maoris, smoking cannabis is a way of getting the benefits of easy sociability and euphoria that one would get from alcohol, but without the drastically negative consequences that naturally befall anyone without an ancestral exposure to the drug. So cannabis prohibition has a massively disproportionate effect on Maoris.

Understood like this, it appears almost sadistic that a Parliament full of people of European descent would forbid, on pain of time spent locked in a prison cage, a recreational alternative to a drug that only they can safely use.

This could fairly said to be terrorism in the form of bioweapons.

Te Reo With Mnemonics: Head Words

Beard – paihau

A man with a really long beard keep talking and talking, so a woman grabs it, stuffs it into his mouth and says “Shut your pie hole!”

Chin – kauae

A man with an enormous chin keeps tapping on a woman’s shoulder. She turns around and says “Go away!”

Ear – taringa

A woman is wearing massive hooped earrings, when a car drives past, throwing up a chunk of tar onto her. On her ears are tar rings.

Eye – karu

A car opens up its headlights and instead of lights there are eyes there.

Face – kanohi

A man in a canoe paddles down a river, but the canoe gets stuck on the giant stone face of a moai in the current.

Forehead – rae

A man is praying on his knees when a ray of light bursts through the clouds and strikes his forehead.

The Maori word for forehead – rae – sounds like the English ‘ray’ as in ‘ray of light’

Hair – makawe

A man with incredible hair sits on a chair, as part of a contest. A woman walks up to him with a pen and clipboard and asks if she can mark his hair. “Mark away,” he replies.

Head – mātenga

At K-Mart, two disembodied heads get into an argument. The heads are exhibiting mart anger.

Lip – ngutu

A trendy-looking woman stretches out her lip and plays it like a banjo. To a nearby journalist, she says “It’s the thing to do!”

Mouth – māngai

An artist sits at a desk, practising how to draw mouths in the Japanese manga style.

Neck – kakī

A solider dressed in khaki has a neck that stretches high into the air.

Nose – ihu

A man walks up to a busker and, out of his nose, deposits a number of coins into the busker’s hat. Then he says “He who pays the piper calls the tune.”

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The above is an excerpt from the upcoming Learn Maori Vocabulary With Mnemonics, by Jeff Ngatai, due to be published by VJM Publishing in the summer of 2017/18.

Election is Not the Same As Selection!

You’ve got the power to choose who will rule the country after September 23rd – we’re all waiting on your input! Your vote will help elect a Prime Minister and ruling party. You will have a range of choices of both electorate and party candidates – some voters will have over 25 options. That’s democracy, right? The people choose, right? Not really.

The tricky thing is that your input regarding the selection of the candidates is not asked for. The process that led to either Bill English or Andrew Little becoming one of your only two choices for Prime Minister is not under your influence, not even in the slightest.

As Richard Goode of Not A Party pointed out in a recent address, New Zealand has had either a National Party Prime Minister or a Labour Party Prime Minister for the past 80 years.

And you don’t get to select either of those. You get to vote for one list of people that you have zero input into, or another list of people that you have zero input into.

So what your vote amounts to, as an elector, is little more than a ceremonial acknowledgement of the completion of a process that started a long time before election day. Like the Queen cutting a ribbon to open a new library, it’s merely a show for the cameras.

The process that matters – where the political power is – is the process that puts a person into the position of leading their party in the first place. And the Establishment will have seen to it, as it does every other time, that both the National leader and the Labour leader are their puppets.

So it doesn’t matter if you vote for the left wing or the right wing of the shitbird – the leaders of both wings have been selected by the people who really have all the power in society, and it isn’t you.

That’s why Andrew Little and Bill English are indistinguishable when it comes to several major social issues. On the issue of cannabis law reform, Little is no less conservative than English, constantly harping on about brain damage, and the Labour Party policy webpage makes no mention of cannabis law reform whatsoever (although funding a motion-capture studio in Dunedin was important enough to mention).

In the end, we shouldn’t expect Little and English to be distinguishable. What the rulers of this country want is to frighten the markets as little as possible, and that means reducing democracy to a sham election between two candidates pre-selected for their total absence of any capacity for novel thought.

Ultimately, the people who benefit from the status quo have far too much invested in it to allow it to be upset by plebs like you!

Not even voting for a third party is possible. Watching the Green Party mortgage their soul at ever-increasing rates of interest over the past 18 years taught us one thing: a maverick third party can only win power in our system to the degree that it makes itself indistinguishable from those who already have it.

That the country will be led by someone who sees you as a unit of livestock to be milked for productivity and taxes is a given. It might appear that the only reasonable course of action was to refuse to vote and to work on building a parallel society away from the gaze of psychopaths beholden to international banking or ideological interests.

Te Reo With Mnemonics: Travel Words

Boat – waka

Sailing through the ocean, impossibly managing to stay afloat, is a boat made of wicker.

Car – motokā

A woman drives out of a garage in a car. Then a man asks his son where the car is. The son replies “Ma took it.”

Bicycle – paihikara

A woman rides a bicycle past a line of noisy picketers.

Plane – manurere

An aeroplane crashes into a gigantic pile of horse manure.

Motorcycle – motopāika

A knight rides a motorcycle as if it was a jousting horse, only instead of a lance he has a pike. He is the motor piker.

drive – taraiwa

A man drives his car at different speeds along a road. Then he comes to a woman holding a bunch of ice-creams. “Try one,” she says.

The Maori word for aeroplane – manurere – shares a m-n-r pattern with the English word ‘manure’

arrive – whakaeke

A man walks through an arrivals hall at an airport. People keep offering him eggs. When he gets to the front of the queue, he knocks one egg away and says “Fuck eggs!”

depart – haere atu

A king and his retinue walk into a cannabis cafe. They get so high that they float off the ground, departing from the Earth entirely. They have departed because they are the high retinue.

Welcome – pōwhiri

A ferry full of very poor looking people arrives at a wharf. It is the poor ferry. The passengers disembark under a large “Welcome” sign.

Goodbye (to one going) – haere rā

A lion leaves its pride and climbs halfway up a mountain. Then it turns back and, to say goodbye, lets out a roar from up there. It is a higher roar.

Travel – haerere

A man is showing a slideshow of travel photos from all around the world. In them, the man appears to be very hairy.

Adventure – mātātoa

A backpacker climbs up through a bizarrely constructed building, and it looks adventurous. As they pass a dangerous-looking chunk of porcelain, the guide in front of him says “Mind the toilet”.

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The above is an excerpt from the upcoming Learn Maori Vocabulary With Mnemonics, by Jeff Ngatai, due to be published by VJM Publishing in the summer of 2017/18.

New Zealand Political Journalism Is Such Absolute Garbage

Presstitutes like Patrick Gower would have us believe that the above line – representing a nine percent loss of support in six months – is a sign that the National Party is in the ascendancy

The standard of mainstream political journalism in New Zealand is worse than school newspaper level. This is not because of a lack of English language skills, but because our journalists are bought-and-paid-for whores who will say absolutely anything if the price is right. Examination of a recent propaganda piece on Newshub shows how dire the situation is.

Patrick Gower, who wrote the article, is well representative of the kind of arse-licker that infests the New Zealand Lugenpresse. Enchanted by wealth, Gower has produced a piece intended to create the impression that the conservative National Party is doing a great job of governing and should be re-elected later this year.

Referring to supposedly leaked poll results which “show [Labour] is in big trouble, two-and-a-half months out from the election,” Gower has penned a piece intended to give the impression that the Labour Party is falling to pieces (and, by elimination, National must be the best choice for running the country).

Gower writes that “National is chugging along as usual – currently on 42 percent”, but this statement is absolutely false on its face.

National has no real coalition partners, apart from the “Hemorrhoid of the House” Peter Dunne, the fake libertarian David Seymour and the race traitors in the Maori Party. These three groups only draw five seats between them, which required National to win 47% of the vote in the 2014 General Election to have the numbers to govern.

So 42% is far from “chugging along as usual” – in fact, it represents a fall in support which would see it kicked out of power if an election were to be held today.

Gower writes about a “fascinating trend” from the last six months, in which “Labour is crashing down and is at pretty much its lowest point since Andrew Little took over after the last election.”

So poor is the level of political journalism in this country that the graphics supplied for the article contradict Gower’s own statement. The natural oscillations of the poll results suggest that Labour is currently in a lull – but the graphic in the same article shows that they were on 26% six months ago, and are on 26% now.

Considering that Labour won only 25% at the last election, it’s apparent that Gower has deliberately selected an extremely small section of the polling graph and omitted the rest, in order to give the impression that this short-term fluctuation is really a major trend.

The very same graphic shows that support for National is, in fact, crashing down – from 51% as recently as the start of the year to 42% now.

So even though the line graphs supplied in the article show that National has fallen 9% since the start of the year and that Labour has remained steady, Gower, in his shameless, ham-fisted propagandising, has spun things to make it sound as if the exact opposite is true.

Unfortunately, this is the standard of political journalism in New Zealand. Presstitutes take corporate money to write propaganda pieces favouring moneyed interests, and then these lies are pumped through the national consciousness via every possible medium, until every retard in the country bleats them out mindlessly all day.

Worst of all is that the more dishonest a journalist is, the more likely they are to be given a public platform, for the reason that this dishonesty means profit for those pushing the propaganda.

Is New Zealand The Worst Country On Earth?

New Zealand – paradise if you’re wealthy, but if you’re not (and especially if you’re also young), living here is a curious psychological torture. We have the highest teen suicide rates in the developed world, and this essay looks at some reasons why.

Like every other country on Earth, our mainstream media likes to paint a picture of everything being excellent and the country having never done better – this being the well-known strategy for putting the receivers of such media in the optimal mindset for buying the products advertised in it.

Our mainstream media has a unique level of shamelessness in doing so, however, because in no other country in the developed world are teenagers as likely to decide that they’d rather be dead than living here.

New Zealand is close to the worst country on Earth to be young. There’s nothing to do here, we’re all psychologically damaged and our authority figures lie to us all the time.

This is especially true for the current generation of youth, who grew up in the wake of Ruthanasia, the sadistic welfare policies of the Fourth National Government. These policies taught our youth that the country couldn’t give two shits about them and that empathy is for the weak – once you’re born, you’re on your fucken own.

The consequence of this lack of empathy is a generation of youth without much empathy, and a consequence of that is that they kill themselves at world-record rates. There’s nothing surprising about it – they’ve simply internalised the lack of worth with which they were treated.

Understanding how we got like this requires that we understand how isolated New Zealand is. Australia is itself an isolated country at the arse-end of the world, but they’re practically Greece compared to us.

In almost any other country on Earth, it’s possible to get into a car, drive a short distance across a border and have an entirely different cultural experience, with new people, new thoughts and new ideas.

We don’t have any of that in New Zealand. We’re stuck here. For all of the generations before the one that grew up with the Internet, all we had was the television, and that taught us to consume, not to think.

And as we stagnated, we turned our rages on each other.

Perhaps the worst thing about New Zealand is the petty, vicious, cowardly streak in the national character that has us always lashing out at the person at the bottom of society rather than daring to criticise the people at the top.

This is reflected in our obscene school bullying culture. Unfortunately for New Zealand teenagers, our culture of abuse is so deeply entrenched that many teachers will argue that bullying is a good thing because it forces kids to develop social skills or “toughens them up for the real world” (or some other 19th-century logic).

It’s also reflected in our third-world mental health system, which regularly throws sick people out onto the street with no help or funding. Many teenagers have committed suicide after trying to get help from the New Zealand mental health system only to find that no-one working in it could care less about them.

Unfortunately for this country’s mentally ill, especially if they are also young and poor, being mentally ill is still seen as a personal failure in New Zealand – depression is a failure to harden the fuck up, bipolar disorder is a failure to calm down, schizophrenia is a failure to sort your shit out.

In this way, New Zealand has failed to move on from the 1950s, in contrast to almost everywhere else.

A natural consequence of this brutal, brain-dead attitude is a national unwillingness to talk about mental illness. Doing so engenders so little natural sympathy that our youth would rather kill themselves than try and broach the subject with an adult New Zealander.

Not only do we have less of an influence from without, but we actively stomp down any new thought that might arise from within – and not only through the Tall Poppy Syndrome.

New Zealand managed to produce an intellect great enough to win a Booker Prize recently in Eleanor Catton, and Prime Minister John Key bullied her out of the country by publicly stating that her opinion on intellectual matters wasn’t worth more than that of a rugby player.

No other country is shit enough to do that. Almost anywhere else, it would be recognised that intellects like Catton’s are necessary to prevent a culture from rotting from the inside, and especially so in New Zealand where new ideas do not flow in from across the border.

We weren’t always like this: studies have shown that our teen suicide rate actually used to be lower than that of other countries.

But in the mid-80s we got sucked into the con job that was neoliberalism, and none of our current politicians have the guts to suggest any change of track.

The country that once led the world on social issues like women’s suffrage and old-age pensions is now more backwards than South Africa on social issues like gay marriage and cannabis law reform.

Without a fundamental change of attitude that brings us into 21st-century modes of thinking, the standard of living here will only continue to deteriorate, and our teen suicide rates will only increase.