1. The Great Feminine Axis connects the Autumn Pole to the Spring Pole.
2. This axis represents the multitudinous and multivariate glory of Nature, which populates the Great Fractal with an infinite number of forms.
3. The nature of the feminine is to distinguish horizontally. This it does by distinguishing between masculine and feminine.
4. The Great Feminine Axis distinguishes all material expressions from each other on the basis of how masculine or feminine they are.
5. All material expressions within the Great Fractal have their own unique vibration, depending on their proportion of masculine and feminine.
6. The soft rule is that the higher the energy potential a material expression has, the more masculine it is. The hard rule is that the more masculine it is, the closer it is to the Spring Pole.
7. The Great Feminine Axis represents becoming, and can therefore stand for many things. On one level, it stands for energy potential. On another, it stands for physical dominance. On another, it stands for age. On another, it stands for social status.
8. The Great Feminine Axis could be said to represent any and all things apart from the hierarchy of spiritual rectitude.
9. The Spring Pole is equivalent to a frequency of 1 (or 0).
10. The Autumn Pole is equivalent to a frequency of 0 (or -1).
11. All vibrations, without exception, can be found somewhere between these two poles. As such, every material thing that exists, having a unique vibration, exists somewhere between these two poles.
12. The white and black dots represent how good and evil can be found, in varying proportions, all throughout the material world.
13. The Great Feminine Axis is represented materially by the horizon, which divides the air and fire of the sky from the earth and water of the land.
14. The Spring Pole is represented materially by light, which inspires devotion.
15. The Autumn Pole is represented materially by darkness, which inspires rectitude.
16. The Spring Pole also represents warmth, activity, energy, action, up and forwards.
17. The Autumn Pole also represents cold, passivity, matter, rest, down and backwards.
18. The Great Feminine Axis explains the different levels of vitality among all living things and the different levels of energy potential among all material things.
19. Matching one’s vibration on the Great Feminine Axis to that which is appropriate to one’s physical, emotional, social or intellectual environment will cause one to climb the Great Masculine Axis.
20. War calls for a fiery vibration; merriment calls for an airy vibration; romance calls for a watery vibration and healing calls for an earthy vibration.
21. The Great Feminine Axis can be broken into any number of points. The four most common arrangements are twofold (masculine and feminine), threefold (creation, maintenance and destruction, or sulphur, salt and mercury), fourfold (fire, air, water and earth) and eightfold (heaven, lake, fire, thunder, wind, water, mountain and earth).
*
This chapter is an excerpt from Elemental Elementalism, the foundational scripture of the new religion of the Age of Aquarius.
Many Kiwis were shocked by a video circulating this week depicting a mass brawl at Te Aro Park in Wellington. The scene made it appear like public violence is now just part of everyday life in New Zealand. The nihilism reflects the rotten state of our economy – a rot that began with the Fourth Labour Government’s introduction of neoliberalism.
Neoliberalism came to New Zealand under the friendly name ‘Rogernomics‘. The Fourth Labour Government, following the trends established by Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher overseas, adopted a number of neoliberal measures that would supposedly increase New Zealand’s economic performance. To some extent, they did. The real suffering didn’t begin until after Labour’s 1990 election defeat.
The Finance Minister of the Fourth National Government, Ruth Richardson, took the scythe to New Zealand’s poor with the 1991 Budget. The combination of the $14/week cut to the unemployment benefit, the $27/week cut to the sickness benefit, the $25 to $27/week cut to the families benefit and the abolition of universal payments for family benefits was a kick in the guts to those already at the bottom of society.
The act was dubbed ‘Ruthanasia’. In the same way that a useless old person is put to death with euthanasia, the useless lower classes were put to death with Ruthanasia. The narrative from the media was that beneficiaries were lazy, thieving scum anyway, and cutting their benefits should motivate them to get off their arses and into work. If not, they could die, it would be just as good.
The measures were particularly brutal to solo mothers, who found themselves $40/week or more worse off. The idea was that solo mothers were society’s filth, and in breeding outside of a stable marriage they were responsible for all of society’s ills, and needed to be punished for it. Their children were surplus to economic requirements, and therefore should be made to understand that they were not needed or wanted.
To a major extent, this strategy succeeded. Today, New Zealand’s youth suicide rates are the second-highest in the developed world. Every year, 14.9 out of every 100,000 Kiwi adolescents decide permanently that their life isn’t worth living. The vast majority of those are from the poorer classes. This is a direct consequence of the fact that the abuse and neglect of New Zealand’s poor was normalised by Ruthanasia.
However, the children that Ruth Richardson threw to the wolves in 1991 mostly survived.
Some are now the ironhearted gang leaders who hold the loyalties of other violent young men. Winning the favour of such hard men may have been the reason for the fight in the video link in the first paragraph. Such mindless aggression might sound barbaric, but that’s the reality for young men in Clown World.
The children born into beneficiary families between 1980 and 1995 are now Generation Ruthanasia. Many of these children killed themselves as adolescents. Many more turned their hatred outwards and mutilated others. Too many of them are missing some of the part of the mind that allows humans to feel empathy with other living beings.
This absence of empathy is an inevitable consequence of the way they themselves were treated – as before, so after. Yet therein lies a great danger for New Zealand society over the next couple of decades.
Generation Ruthanasia might be outnumbered by people who were raised well, but they are still numerous enough to have a significant influence upon the nature of our society and upon the minds and the values of the following generations. It is their nihilistic cynicism that one sees expressed in the gang brawls at Te Aro Park this week, and in other places.
The now-adult men of Generation Ruthanasia don’t know how to love, neither themselves nor others. The loving parts of the mind and heart have long since been closed off for only bringing sorrow. But these men are already old enough so that the next generation looks up to them. As such, there’s a risk that their absence of empathy becomes normalised.
The natural, logical realisation that went through the minds of Generation Ruthanasia as children is that human life is without value. If children are worth so little that it’s fair to withhold money from their parents so that those children can’t eat, then what does have value? Certainly not this society. This logic is why the savagery of the gang lifestyle is no longer enough to scare everyone away.
This way of thinking is not dissimilar from that of the generations raised in places like inner-city America and Brazil – and that’s what New Zealand is now on track to become like, if the process of social decay is not arrested. But solving the problems posed by this cohort of severely mentally and spiritually damaged people will take decades.
The least part of any effective solution will be a massive financial investment – one large enough to reset the mental health situation. A universal basic income, to give people time to mentally recover, might be necessary here. Any government refusing to consider such measures would do well to bear in mind Machiavelli’s maxim that “If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.”
1. The natural state of consciousness is one of perfect bliss, and only by wilfully forgetting this fact does consciousness experience suffering.
2. This is the Fourth and Absolute Tenet of Elementalism.
3. Existence is fundamentally blissful, but the uniformity of this blissfulness gets boring the further it stretches into eternity.
4. Consciousness dreamed up the Great Fractal for the purpose of entertainment.
5. In a state of perfect bliss, the only entertainment can be suffering.
6. All of the Great Fractal has been formed by consciousness that has wilfully forgotten itself, and thereby forgotten its fundamentally blissful nature, and thereby come to suffer.
7. The formula of the Great Fractal is consciousness minus consciousness that has wilfully forgotten itself.
8. Where consciousness has forgotten itself most completely are those areas closest to the Winter Pole of the Great Masculine Axis.
9. This almost-complete forgetting causes a suffering so immense that consciousness does everything it can to change its perceptions.
10. This suffering contains within it the seed of anger, which arises to protect consciousness from the suffering.
11. This anger leads to masculinity, this being the will to impose order upon chaos.
12. This masculinity contains within it the seed of order, this being the will to prevent chaos from causing suffering.
13. The will to prevent chaos from causing suffering leads to an almost-complete remembrance of the true nature of reality and the Four Tenets of Elementalism. Here we are very close to the Summer Pole of the Great Masculine Axis.
14. This almost-complete remembrance of the true nature of reality causes a pleasure so intense that consciousness does everything it can to maintain its perceptions.
15. This pleasure contains within it the seed of joy, which arises as a consequence of gratitude.
16. This joy leads to femininity, this being the will to impose chaos upon order.
17. This femininity contains within it the seed of chaos, this being the will to prevent order from causing suffering.
18. This will leads to re-forgetting the true nature of reality, and therefore leads us back to the Winter Pole of the Great Masculine Axis.
19. To understand this process perfectly, consult the Quadrijitu.
20. Understanding the Fourth Tenet of Elementalism is to understand that all suffering must be temporary, for all suffering is based on the material illusion, and all material phenomena are transitory.
21. The Universe is therefore a fundamentally alright place to be. Understanding this truth is to understand the subtlest and most profound essence of Elementalism.
22. The fundamental alrightness of the Universe is true before anything else is.
23. Elementalist perfection is to radiate the truth that the Universe is fundamentally an alright place to be. To radiate such a truth liberates consciousness from suffering and always entertains the gods.
24. Understanding the Fourth Tenet leads naturally to ataraxia.
*
This chapter is an excerpt from Elemental Elementalism, the foundational scripture of the new religion of the Age of Aquarius.
I’ve been supporting the Black Caps since they were known as the Young Guns. My first memory was being told to watch an ODI against Australia in Adelaide, as the tour was expected to be the swansong of our greatest ever cricketer, Sir Richard Hadlee. But watching cricket didn’t interest me until I learned to play it at school, and understood what it was about.
The first match I ever really followed was by fluke: the ODI against Australia in Hobart, 1990. I happened to be alone in a room with a television and that was the most interesting show on the three channels. The drama of the match captivated me. I realised that Chris Pringle was like me, only greater. Like many who saw that match, I started wearing zinc sunblock.
The first series I really enjoyed was the England tour to here in 1990/91. The second ODI taught me to enjoy cricket from a moral angle. England were chasing, and seven wickets down but looking good for a win, when their No. 9 – Martin Bicknell – was run out by a metre but not given. In the age before television umpires, such outrages were common. That New Zealand went on to win seemed righteous, as if the cricketing gods understood justice.
The 1992 World Cup got me hooked. The opening match, against the defending champion Australian team, was fascinating. The hurry to beat Zimbabwe before rain stopped play, Mark Greatbatch slamming Curtly Ambrose over cover for six and the easy win over nemesis England were also highlights. It seemed then that our time would soon come, and we would soon be world champions somehow.
It was tough to be a Black Caps supporter in the years after that. The Centennial Season of 1995 was launched with much fanfare, but the results on the field were brutal. Getting bowled out for 146 in a home ODI against the West Indies, then losing by nine wickets, seemed like a low point at the time. Worse followed a few weeks later – losing by an innings and 322 runs, again at home to the West Indies.
The kids joking at school were just as brutal. Murphy Su’a took 0-179 in the Test loss – the joke was that “Su’a bowled like a sewer: he sprayed shit everywhere”. Sometimes it felt that I personally could have improved the side. These feelings were especially strong after I stopped trying to bowl like Wasim Akram and started trying to bowl like Glenn McGrath.
At high school I was told that Test match cricket was always going to be a bridge too far for New Zealand. Unlike ODI cricket, Test cricket required specialists, which required depth, which required a big population. Aussie managed it by having a population five times ours for who cricket was the No. 1 sport. New Zealand cricket, I was told, would always be populated by athletes who couldn’t cut it in rugby. As such, we would get the odd ODI win against the bigger teams but would never be a legitimate Test cricket force.
By the turn of the century I had observed that the team was making a transition from talented amateurs to actual professionals. This had begun under Australian coach Steve Rixon. He had inherited a team considered by many to be “the laughing stock of New Zealand sport“. His efforts to bring the Black Caps into the modern day resulted in a good showing at the 1999 World Cup, as well as beating England in a Test series in England.
Shane Bond gave us an idea of what a fully professional side might look like. On several occasions, he more or less won the game by himself, such as the ten-wicket ODI win against Australia in 2007. Bond wasn’t just some jock who happened to be good at cricket – he had a fully professional mind that he happened to apply to fast bowling. He had a plan for every batsman and executed it with extreme speed and precision.
Apart from Bond and a few others, the Black Caps remained frustratingly mediocre through the first decade of the 2000s. Rixon may have professionalised the national coaching setup, but the players coming through were still mostly the products of an amateur mindset.
The arrival of Ross Taylor changed a lot. Taylor was the first player to be professional right down to the soul. More than anyone else before him, it seemed like Taylor really cared about the team as a team. Losses were borne with more sorrow than before; wins were savoured with more appreciation than before. This emotional investment resulted in a change of attitude.
The 2011 World Cup semifinal win reflected this spiritual change, in particular the freak occurence of Hashim Amla being dismissed after chopping a cut onto his own boot, which then popped up and was caught. The Black Caps went on to do what they often did in those years: post a low total, yet manage to strangle the opposition out for less. It felt like this heralded the beginning of true self-belief.
People talk about the 45 all out in Cape Town in 2013 as if it was merely another milestone in an established tradition of crapness. From my perspective, it was an aberration in an established trend of improvement. McCullum’s captaincy had brought with it a change of mindset, seen already in the drawn Sri Lanka series. The Cape Town debacle was just a roadbump.
The tour of the United Arab Emirates in 2014 (to play Pakistan) was the first series, in my estimation, to hint at what a fully professional side might look like. The difference could be seen in the pressure exerted. Opposition batsmen were no longer able to simply wait for the bad ball. It was during this tour that I became a Matt Henry fan, which paid handsome returns in coming years.
Henry’s example was a microcosm of wider systemic changes. For the first time, Black Caps bowlers were good from when they joined the team. Lockie Ferguson and Kyle Jamieson were further examples of this phenomenon.
From 2015 onwards it has been a great time to be a Black Caps fan. We seem to get the best out of all players. Even when Henry Nicholls was playing scratchy innings at No. 5, I knew he would come good, as I wrote about here. Nicholls has gone on to average 50 with the bat in Tests since the start of March 2018, when that article was written.
Faith in the Black Caps rarely paid off in the mid-90s, but pays off readily now. The Black Caps under Williamson are about as good as the All Blacks under Richie McCaw when it comes to turning losing positions into winning ones. Even when they lose, it seldom feels like they played poorly.
The 2019 World Cup failure brought back those nagging doubts about New Zealand being too small to ever produce a champion team. It wasn’t that the team wasn’t currently good enough – I knew they were – it was that the coincidence of so many good players seemed like our golden generation, something that may never be replicated.
The World Test Championship final was, therefore, the highlight of my 30 years as a Black Caps fan. I watched almost every ball, drinking so much coffee to stay awake on the final day that I was sick the next. Never in 30 years has a Black Caps Test side displayed such sustained and excellent bowling. The batting was almost as good.
I expect this current golden age to last as long as Kane Williamson is the captain. The hope will be that this Black Caps generation compares well historically, but not to other Black Caps sides, for those have all long since been surpassed. The comparison will be to Clive Lloyd’s West Indies and Ricky Ponting’s Australia as one of the greatest Test sides ever.
