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SocietyAugust 22, 2020

Which conspiracy theory are you? A complete astrological guide

Contributing writer
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Can’t decide which rabbit hole to fall into? Not sure if you think Jacinda’s a reptilian shapeshifter, or if there’s a moose on the loose in Fiordland? Fear not – Sherry Zhang has consulted the stars.

The rise of conspiracy theories goes hand in hand with a global pandemic. Could the combination of fear, misinformation on social media, and political leaders undermining the information conveyed by public health officials be to blame for the rise of an info-demic? Maybe. 

But it could also be because we’re at the end of Leo season, and shifting into the ever-tumultuous Virgo season on August 23. Coincidence? I think not.

So which rabbit-hole will you find yourself falling into based on your alignment with the stars? How do you let your friends and family know?  

Aries: Babylonian Brotherhood

Once upon a time in 2014, the public were asking the real questions. Whether “Mr John Key is in fact a David Icke-style shapeshifting reptilian alien ushering humanity towards enslavement.” Now, we’re wasting our time asking Jacinda about lockdown protocols. Where is the OIA on her cold-blooded status? After all, Key’s chief of staff could neither confirm nor deny the theory. There’s literally no data to prove Jacinda is also not a lizard. 

Conspiracy theorist David Icke’s also recently been taken down by Facebook for “health misinformation that could cause physical harm”. Take that as you will, but you’ll keep asking the questions no one else will, Aries. 

Taurus: Climate change denial

Despite all the scientific data on the climate crisis, rising concentration of greenhouse gases, melting glaciers and bushfires, those kids protesting are being riled up for nothing. It’s all manipulated data “created by and for the Chinese in order to make US manufacturing non-competitive”.  

Trump’s on to something. Climate change action is the political agenda to stop super-powers from exploiting Papatūānuku as they rightly should. The zero carbon bill? Propaganda. Recycling and Auckland’s water drought? More propaganda. You’re stubborn, Taurus, no amount of science and facts can get through to your commitment to denialism and post-truth facts. 

Gemini: UFOs 

Curious and adaptable, Geminis are the restless air sign we need to crack this mystery: a UFO spotted at Waipukurau Aerodrome 50 years ago. New Zealand’s Area 51 could be somewhere in the central Hawke’s Bay. Looks kind of like a shiny portobello mushroom flying through the sky?  You know exactly what I’m talking about. There are 2,000 pages of documents relating to various sightings from 1954 to 2009 from the New Zealand military.

 Cancer: The moon landing

Deeply in tune with their spiritual side, Cancers are sentimental and emotional. That’s why we’re stripping it back and keeping it simple this season. For over 40 years, you’ve stood strong with one of the most convincing cinematic fabrications. The 1969 moon landing. It’s fooled generations. And it stops here with you.  

Leo: Flat Earth

With an air of creativity and dominance, Leos are the natural-born leaders to pull this generation of sheep out of two millennia of scientific lies. If you look at the horizon, can you actually see beyond? The Earth is flat. For those foolish enough to board international flights, cabin air is full of hallucinogens to assist in the 18-hour simulated reality flight from Auckland to Dubai. 

Virgo: The New World Order

Detail-orientated and practical, we can always trust in Virgo to figure out the tangled webs of the New World Order, a secret emerging totalitarian world government. Linked to Covid-19 and 5G, the Illuminati and Madonna, it’s 10 conspiracies in one. Start off with adrenochrome, an addictive drug of the Hollywood elite harvested from tortured children.   

Libra: Anti-lockdown

“Listen to the experts,” says Jacinda Ardern. But “‘Covid-1984 is the New World Order’s power-grab hoax,” you yell back at the anti-lockdown protest. The WHO has created a “myth-busting” page on killer masks. However, health professionals have not always been a place of trust for many disenfranchised groups. Except you’re going to exploit that vulnerability, and keep sharing My Kitchen Rules’ expertise on public health. 

Scorpio: 1080

We haven’t heard from you in a bit Scorpio, but you’re still there. Rats, 1080, and native bush. It’s a highly emotive issue, and it’s gotten quite intense. You’ll spend the next while trying to figure out fact from fiction, including a pile of unrelated dead kiwi and scientifically disproven water contamination concerns. You’re on the gateway drug for wider ecological conspiracies. 

Sagittarius: 5G 

There are still a few upright 5g cell towers frying brain cells that need sorting out. You’ve got it all – mistrust, paranoia and Facebook. The anti-5G campaign insists it causes cancer. Unfortunately, groups that have historically been taken advantage by the New Zealand government are also the most vulnerable. New technologies and a spot of subtle racism: BOOM. 

Capricorn: Anti-vaxx

The measles outbreak in Samoa last year just wasn’t heartbreaking enough. Big Pharma is sponsoring your local DHB. Even if “vaccines causes autism” has been debunked time and time again, you’ve done your own “research.” You ain’t injecting mercury, horse blood and aborted foetal tissue into your children. #NaturalHerdImmunity. It’s time to join an anti-vaxx group, keep up the all-time-low immunisation rates and prey on mums with bubs in strollers! Extra points if you’re lurking around South Auckland motorway billboards.  

Aquarius: Moose 

More Reading

While everyone else is chasing government conspiracy theories, there’s a moose loose in Fiordland. Some hunters swear by its existence, and you’re definitely one of them. Memorise the tracking pattern, and take your family out for a fun “spot the moose” game. It’s bound to keep the kids entertained for at least the first three moose. Don’t let those moose deniers stop you. 

Pisces: Birds

Birds aren’t real. If the CIA was using pigeon-robots to spy on its citizens, then the biggest camera is the kererū. Bird of the year is propaganda by the GCSB. Andrew Little is sitting there watching our every move. You’ve seen that documentary. This whole lockdown shenanigan – the council didn’t finish replacing the batteries of all the birds. They’re also updating the camera from 5mp to 12. Quite similar to the iPhone 11 pro. Coincidence? I think not! Save the kiwi? More like save the night vision cameras used to spy on innocent people.

Keep going!
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Getty Images

OPINIONSocietyAugust 22, 2020

My childhood was branded by shame. I’ll no longer let it define me

Guest writer
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Getty Images

If we want to address family violence in Aotearoa, we need to change the way we act and think about shame, writes Leilani Tamu.

The following includes discussion of child abuse and trauma.

When I was six years old, my mother’s boyfriend  told me to eat on the floor with his dog, a German shepherd, because I was too messy and clumsy to eat at the dinner table. My hands used to shake. His dog was fierce and I was scared of it but I remember being more afraid of what would happen if I didn’t do as I was told.

When I think about this time in my life, I see the trembling hands of a child. In those hands I see the energy of terror that brings back memories of ear flicks, smacks, slammed doors and pots, shouting and shoving. But more than anything, what I recall most is the feeling of never being able to do anything right, no matter how hard I tried. I felt useless.

As much as I would like to extricate myself from its presence, the rot of family violence is part of my story, the making of myself. This is a chapter in my life I would prefer to forget, to permanently staple closed in order to mute the white hot anger of a man conditioned to believe in tough love, obedience and discipline. A man who believed that effective parenting meant to teach and control through the use of fear as a tactic to bring about compliance in my sister and me.

I often think of this man when I am in the kitchen at home, looking for a serving spoon. On those days I avoid using the long-handled wooden ones, because they bring back too many memories of his weapon of choice. He didn’t use it often, but the terror of living under the constant threat of its existence was enough to have me bedwetting until the age of 10.

Shame, what shame I feel to admit that.

To publicly speak about a source of humiliation that I have kept secret and tried to forget for well over 20 years. A manifestation of the impact of the terror he inflicted on me.

Yet I know it is necessary. I know I need to look it in the eye. Not for me but for every other victim of family violence who feels shame as a result of what was done to them. Because shame sits at the heart of it all. It is isolating and demeaning, self-replicating and self-justifying, and it gives perpetrators of family violence power they don’t deserve long after the damage they have done has been inflicted.

Shame researcher Brené Brown defines it as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging – something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection”.

I wish I had this understanding of the nature of the shame I carried as a result of his actions a long time ago. It’s only now in my late 30s that I’m finally able to understand the consequences of what occurred and what I need to do to heal. I also now understand that shame has a role to play on either side of the scales of justice, and that if we want to change the conditions where family violence thrives in New Zealand, it’s all of our responsibility to keep it in check in our households and communities.

This means that we need to start talking about how shame enables toxic masculine stereotypes – “don’t cry” and “harden up” – which affect how our men and our boys, in particular, feel about themselves and how they treat others. We need to talk about how when our husbands, uncles and brothers are fundamentally “good men”, there are those of us who choose to avert our eyes when we see them issue the odd ear flick to the little one because they were being “uppity” or “mouthy” or “getting out of hand” and needed to be brought into line. How shouting and yelling at our children because they frustrate and annoy us – and not doing anything to check ourselves and reset how we respond in the future – can have lifelong consequences for how they feel about themselves, manage their anger, and relate to others.

In an article about the prevalence of family violence in Aotearoa last year, acting police superintendent Bronwyn Marshall described it as New Zealand’s “dirty little secret”. But shame loves secrets – it needs secrets to survive, which in turn is what keeps people from seeking help and talking about what’s going on. Framing it as a secret also reinforces minimisation of harmful behaviour, on the basis that it isn’t that bad.

In my case, the narrative was to keep moving forward because my mum’s boyfriend eventually left us and overall was not a “bad man” (actual bad men did worse things). While it allowed us as a family to move forward, that belief reinforced my own sense of shame for being weak. I think this is something that’s strongly tied to our national culture and identity – we’re meant to be survivors, to be strong, to be silent, to keep going and fighting, despite our trauma, not talk about it. For children especially, this can lead them to invalidate their own emotions – a convenient nest for shame.

Turning one last time to that stapled chapter in my life, I remember the man threatening to leave. And I remember begging him not to, trying to convince him not to go. I recall being so nervous that he would leave us that I bit my nails down to the cuticles until they bled because the pain helped to distract me from the fear he would.

Little did I know that leaving us was his one redeeming act. I’m grateful he did.

Where to get help

Are You OK (family violence help and support) or call 0800 456 450

Kidsline 24/7 support line for kids. Call 0800 54 37 54

Society