New Zealand, like the rest of the anglosphere, faces one of the greatest and most challenging eras of its existence in modernity. The pioneering spirit of the European men and women who set their sights on these lands and colonised them for its betterment are now—more than ever—confronted by perhaps their greatest foe: themselves.
By means of overabundant living, excessive comfort, leisure and entertainment as well as a focus transient forms of pleasure, our people’s spirit has decayed to an previously-unfathomable degree. A once great people, now consumed by the superficial trivialities of café culture, big screens, sports teams and the degenerate dreams of pornography-obsessed fiends. Yet, as a people, we offer no rebuttal to our potential eradication. Our people do not fear to lose that which separated from the scores of other races and groups; instead, they worry about whether or not they will be able to afford the next foreign-made device, new car, or holiday in a foreign land. They fear not the decimation of their ancestral line and heritage as their people squander their lives acting in the interests of a globalist jet set, whose interest is to destroy the multicultural world of divergent groups and cultures they purport to delight in. The depravity of such international pressure group knows no bounds and, thus, we must be the ones to both thwart and push back against their nefarious nature.
As a result of crafting a humanist, egalitarian-driven ingrained response from our people by pushing such dogmas in the entertainment media and other such outlets of propaganda, we find ourselves in an unnatural state of existence. That is, many our people want for little other than the tangible trivialities of consumer culture; they want for little beyond the material. Not only this, but they—we—are told that this effort to fit in and make economic and material gain is the height of virtue that modern-man must seek. This was achieved by incorporating such utilitarian principles as Bentham and Mill’s greatest-happiness principle into the contemporary, economically rationalised world. The greatest-happiness principle maintains that actions are right as long as they promote the maximum happiness for the maximum number of people. This, as one will have come to see, strives to make obsolete the surface-level pains of existence. But, as we know, for an individually to be truly, deeply happy, they must face their demons and continuously push their mind, body and spirit to have any hope of finding the meaning, and therefore happiness, that comes when one endeavours to reach for the sun. This metaphysical transcendence, however, is not sought after by our contemporaries, as they live for, and in, the material realm. It is vital that this reality becomes something of the past; something we overcame and gained strength from. As Oswald Spengler discussed in Man and Technics, the urban spirit in the age of civilisation may be fast and ostensibly intelligent in its scientism and material living, but its existence is emotionally trivial and undignified in its nature.
A good way to highlight the depravity that exists in this era is to compare our times to the dystopian fictions of yesteryear. One particularly salient and contemporarily-vital example that highlights the comparisons that can be made between the world that the over-indulged masses exist in and the fictional world is by means of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Huxley’s prophetic work of now-world-renowned literature, despite being written in dystopian caution, proffers an undeniable resemblance to our time. Huxley’s characters, who spend their days doing highly robotised and rationalised jobs before loading up on a drug called soma (which produces a narcotic effect that subdues the user), live in perpetual servility to the system and its inhabitants. As in the contemporary era, the characters act in superficial ways in order to placate their contemporaries and the culture around them as to fit in and conform to societal norms. One of the normative behaviours in Huxley’s dystopia, as in contemporary New Zealand, is the prolific use of recreational drugs. These drugs, such as marijuana in the New Zealand context and soma in Huxley’s, represent a method by which the system can suppress the spirit of the individuals who make up the masses in order to hinder revolt. This impediment to our revolt lies in its effectiveness when used alongside the propaganda of the entertainment machine, which places the material, tangible world above all else. In the words of Carl Schmitt, the irresistible power of technology appears here as the domination of spiritlessness over spirit, or perhaps, as an ingenious but soulless mechanism.
Another method used by the system in Brave New World is the propagation of recreational, casual sex as a point of virtue. This bears significant resemblance to New Zealand life, whereby individuals, from a young age, are pressured to sexualise themselves as a means of fitting in and being accepted by the broader culture. This culture, of course, being one that is cultivated through manipulation by the mass media and entertainment machine in order to foster particular habits among our population. These habits, as one can observe, turn something which should be sacred and offer a transcendental element to our biological nature, into a purely material pursuit of transient pleasure from which nothing of significance can be achieved. That is because under the pretext of material living, nothing of true value can be found. The examples of drug use and sexual degeneracy represent two of myriad ways in which our people are encouraged to play into the spiritlessness of the modern age that exists in the material realm. As in Huxley’s dystopia, the vast majority of our people undertake meaningless jobs and represent little more than economic units which exist to work and consume, and thus it is vital that they remain subdued by means such as meaningless relationships and recreational drug use. This reality is no mistake; it is, like in Brave New World, a method of control.
Every individual must fight the base instincts that exist within themselves. As Jonathan Bowden rightly said, there exists a hierarchy within every individual. This hierarchy is something to be maintained by every individual. Each of us must conquer the lower levels of ourselves in order to maintain balance and harmony both internally and externally. Every element of our minds, bodies and spirits has a role; every piece plays a part. The harnessing of our strengths and our weaknesses within ourselves, as in an army battalion, is vital to the success of our people. In the age of spiritlessness, we must confront the damning void, clench its superficially in our willing hands, and conquer it in conjunction with our spirit, mind and body. Only then will we overcome ourselves.