The story is about the millennium tune of the world today.
The world’s fear of the millennium madness is thrown into ridicule when you take a local cricket team and turn them into the saviors of the world in the second test. A Saint football player becomes the Gabriel angel heralding the arrival of the 11 men. They come to the rescue in their white uniforms and proceed to play the “game” with an opposing team of players who are a band of very stuffy but hypocritical politicians and world leaders dressed in black suits of course, abusing the flocks of sheep who are symbolizing God’s flock, the people, voiceless and helpless in their dilemma of being controlled by the system of abuse that they live under.
The guys in white are of course set to save the world. This local cricket team made up of all sorts of non famous wise men from the village with a wide variety of mixed breeding, so as to be non definable in the terminology of culture, political correctness and minority groups.
Unable and unwilling to adopt the “victim” status from the government they are basically untouchable as far as control is concerned. They become the heroes from within the masses, in other words just ordinary people. By using sport figures I am pointing out to the audience that they do actually worship some strange “unreviewed God’s and religion’s. That they may laugh at my angelic status placed on the local cricket team, is the irony, as they have indeed done this without the “wings” themselves with the culture of sport and its worship. It just shows the way of the human race to seem to need to put sacredness outside of themselves. The meaning is that if a local cricket team can adopt the task of saving the world through faith in themselves as simple as they are then the lesson surely be that we realize that we have this capacity within ourselves, to control our own destiny. How we can take the responsibility for our own inner hero and the absolute wisdom present in all humankind as individuals and a whole world to bring about a feeling of coming back to the village wisdom of our real elders within our own homes and selves. Power to the people.
In the paintings, the red ball becomes conspicuous as it appears as a sort of symbol of the “holy grail” or the wisdom fought for and indeed used as a weapon at times, as well as becoming the GOAL sought to acquire.
The grail in the wrong hands causes chaos and disaster for the flock. Once regained by the heroes, it takes its rightful place as a symbol of balance and wisdom used with respect.
The modern day pioneer or adventurer spends his searching days and nights looking at vast plains of spiritual barrenness. He fights through thickets of snake infested, trap set dangerous jungles of used emotions now abusive and second hand, sour with too much over use and abuse!.
The successful modern day explorer risks death by disintegration in his quest as he expels useless beliefs and emotions at a rate of knots that would make a jet pilot crumble. Pieces of shit flying off him at an alarming rate. Shedding like a seasonal snake, very nice experience.
He risks abandonment as he learns to let go of loves and hooks of obsessive behavior. He fears no system. He has to stand alone on many journeys, mostly really as his fellow traveler’s shirk personal responsibility to act from their base of controlling their own destiny. He fights, he cries, he holds hard, he is spat on, rained on, shat on, stoned but he holds ground.
It is a journey that must be alone. A quest that has to be launched individually but for the good of all mankind.
For the others, it is not their misdemeanor that they cannot do more than huddle close to their campfire and TV and gawk puzzled but excited as their comrades move to the front of the pack to push down the fence and risk the wolf of security and familiarity in the search of better pasture. This time not the pasture of richer lands and greener grasses that one can consume. But a pasture of spiritual satisfaction and depth so great that the God becomes the individual and the individual becomes the God. The reality is adjusted. Pioneers will always fight for the lambs. They will battle the powers that be, for the lambs are unable to see for the wool in their eyes and will without this help be devoured by their own helplessness. Depression, pestilence, crime, war, poisoning, poverty will destroy them in their own nests. It is the nature of the human spirit that some will look after the good of some others.
May your journey be fruitful and impactful reaching far behind you to shine on the less brave than yourself.
In relation to the use of cricket, it must be said that I actually did grow up in a cricket pavilion. My father was the coach of the North Caulfield Cricket Club for years, I think Mum delivered half of us in the gear bag at drinks. “Stan the Man” or “Shoes” (my father) was the captain of his team for the time he was there. Most of my early recall and moral lessons were at the “club house”. No, that’s not the problem at all. It was here that I learnt a lot about teamwork, compassion, commitment, beer, how to spear a keg, and the equalizing of all men.
Always working towards a common goal regardless of race, culture, religion, work status, or social class. This was the most important thing
I have used these years as a prototype for an entire story that has been in my mind for many years. Until the millennium dilemma there hadn’t been a fitting time to bring forth these heroes. Now is the time for them to move forward from the time capsule in my head to save the world from itself just in time.
There will be many close calls for the various characters used in the show; many of these people were actually there. I have changed only a few things slightly. I hope you enjoy the work.
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