Gothic Funk Manifesto #2

BODY, CONCEPT, DIARY, EVENT

GOTHIC FUNK MANIFESTO #2

Like Francesco, the Great Cenci, I'm hungry, but 400 years have passed, so let's divide, Mitosic like, this manifesto, into two parts:

Part 1. The Boring Part
Part 2. The Interesting Part

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PART 1. THE BORING PART

Since the advent of Advent (and most likely even before) we've conceived of ourselves as mini-Messiahs at at least one point. Whether this sleeps in us, drawing breath, dreaming, daily, while we walk through ever more tedius routines (play, chores, school, work, war), or whether it fades due to the tedius routines we walk through, or whether it snaps, lightninglike in calamity, cataclysm, we know.

At four years old and less, sitting on swings, propelled by a twelve-ear old behind us, looking past aluminum siding, plywood playgrounds, and fractions of branches, brown and green in a sky that does not end, we call ourselves God. (The irony is that religious minds, and not bigoted religious minds, but sober minds, might still condemn our vision as blasphemous, weak, and misguided, except we're usually too young for such rebuke when we're willing to admit such thoughts.

But we'll never be closer to God or space, or more obedient).

It's all between atoms. Entropy happens. The fractal edges in everything important do have shapes. They have identities. They proclaim them. But they can only proclaim definitively in formulas at best, under optimal conditions, and even so, what does a formula mean to a human, a person, who really wants food and sex and love and intensity and the Smashing Pumpkins to come together once more?

And if the formula is the best we can expect, in terms of absolutes, under the very best of conditions (if the very best we can expect with certainty, as a description, a manifesto or statement), and if the best is utterly imperfect, insufficient, then what we to do with a comet, a raindrop, a word, a thought, a breath, or a human being? To quote "sweet Marianne" (and to be a sell out, a shell out, you've all shelled out, and don't deny that at least once or twice you liked the movie Titanic) sometimes the trick is in pretending Zen, or practicing as we preach, or not throwing stones because we live in glass houses. But let's be honest: WE NEED TO JUST HOLD DOWN. Do you get this? Do you... HOLD DOWN?

It's a position. It should be called a prayer. You do it in your sleep, but if you do it waking the position is as follows:

1. You crouch, on the bridges of your feet and toes, knees bet, haunches back, butt weighing toward the ground, but balanced. A stance of confort or patience.
2. There is no comfort or patience. This is a position of resistance. Long term resistance. Hold onto the air/floor/carpet/grass. Clench your fists.
3. Lean forward. Look. Always be wary because they are going to snatch you away and destroy you.

So we have to relax into our identity and honestly feel like gods if we want to humble ourselves before any True Movement (and if this were not so, why does every religion stress the special status of humankind (which is simply a matter of degree, not kind), or every philosophy praise our rational skills (which are simply a matter of degree, not kind)). We must apprehend that it is kindred. And we must fight entropy, though we are bound to lose, and by our own experience, at least, that we cling to, to lose by coercion, by inertia, and utter humiliation.

In short, as someone who writes Gothic Funk manifestoes and actually believes in this shit, I urge you, plead with you, beg you, and insist you supplicate and stand tall, (unbowing), before whatever you see IS, and assert that you are all Divine, Ever, and Real. Then your epansion expands, your extension extends, your O opens. There is an occlusion in you. Then we get down to business. Then we sweep, headless, out the door, and our business is important, whether or not they know or care.

In short, in the words of Count Francesco, who once stole a crouton and might murder me if he knew I told you without his explicit permission, there's no escaping the world. NOT FOR US. In this world, our best hope for immortality, a failed escape from history and entropy, IS ONLY the reconciliation of our HUMILITY (often praised) with our AUDACITY (occasially praised, but rarely understood).

Reconcile these: humility and audacity.

Until you do, I will never falter, but Flint, Michigan is certainly all the next Mecca, Rome, and Jerusalem.

* * * * *

Myself, I have developed several separate structures to preserve divinity, and they are rough hewn and theologically, metaphysically, and epistomologically inconsistant.

But I'm a populist, and a true socialist, so who cares?

Look:

We cannot escape the world, nor can we escape our linear, mundane perception of time, so let's use these as measures of unique signatue. It means something absolute to us, though it is not absolute, due to our perception. Let's let Allah premeditate, while Jesus weaves his snail shells, and sweet Buddha urges slow and calm breath. Let's open eyes.

BLUE SKIES FALLING

There is nothing magical about the number three, but I try to live three times.

As an AMERICAN, I live JULIANTIME, by the months. My favorite months are September, December, February, and April through June. During these months, to signify my recognition, I wear sunglasses ourside when the sun is visible. It shades the scene unfamiliar shades and is a fitting reminder the change is everywhere and that I have the ability to recognize change. In SEPTEMBER, I go to a place, like a K-Mart, and choose what I need. I try to go cheap, but I ask for a calander to track time, an address book to track those with whom I share care, and paper to share the countless moments around me. In DECEMBER, I drive through the city. Because it's good to recognize where I am. In FEBRUARY, I go to parties, because it's good to be around my sisters and brothers, who aren't thinking of higher or lower things, but are dancing and breathing, and doing so, preoccupied with life. In APRIL, I clean, because between the fog and rain of this month (most sacred to me, personally) it's good to sort or one thing from another. In MAY, I hunt, because it's good to make discoveries, even if I do not determine the standard. In JUNE, I go to a Carnival, because this is what the weather is life when people merge, and ferris wheels wheel round and round.

But that is one. There is a second.

As a CHRISTIAN of the CATHOLIC faith. As a THEIST, but most of all, as a BELIEVER and a SEEKER, I live CHRISTTIME, by the seasons. Each season has specific demands, tailored both to me and to others, all tailored to the reconciliation of my mission with others', to my ability to grasp and infuse and be infused by the grasping all about me. All year long I engage in a NIGHTLY PRAYER in which I call blessings down upon the whole of creation, especially my world, especially my friends, especially those most dear to me. Each night I perform the EXERCISE in which I name one wonder of the day that has passed and one tragedy that has passed that day. I go to church on Sundays. I go to church on Feast days. I study the scripture. I confess seven times each year. And during Advent and Lent I say the Rosary and read and study four chapters each day. And during Christmas and Easter, I recite the Litany of Mary and ready and study three chapters each day. And during Winter, and Summer, and Autumn ordinary time, I work on memorization each day and study two chapters each day. And during Advent I select gifts for those dear to me. And during Christmas I receive gifts from those dear to me. And during Left I give Prayer, Fast, and Alms in the hope of being more clear. And during Easter I Party, Feast, and Exult in the hope of knowning the clarity I've achieved. And during Winter Ordinary Time I practice Faith, concretely. And during Autumn Ordinary Time, I practice Hope, concretely. And during Summer Ordinary Time, I practice Charity, Concretely.

But I cannot overemphasize... if you seek with rigor and rain, you will find, and whatever you find is a treasure. We are best when we hold ourselves, when we hold down. This is true for tribal faiths and the self-conceived, the agnostics, the atheists, the Hindus, Buddhists, Christas, Muslims, and all the others. It is true for all who earnestly seek Source. My system is sculpted for me specifically. I may have been born in Flnt, but that fact limits me even as it endows me. Recognize where you are and were.

As CONNOR RYAN COYNE, as the only me that is, I live EVENTIME that I conceived in 6th grade, when I was twelve. There are twelve months: EVENTIDE is two days, SUMMERSEVE (yes, yes, ha, ha, no, it has nothing to do with tampons) for reflection on the year that's passed, and SUMEMRSDAWN for a long walk, many miles. Summersdawn is always the longest day of the year. Then three months: LUMAS, LAURAS, and GLOAMANE. Right now, Lumas is celebrated by dancing in the darkness and wilderness. Right now, Laruas is celebrated by games where we pretend we're someone else on long, warm days, and short, cool nights. Right now, Gloamane, is celebrating is celebrated by writing something pure and intact in a single night. AUTUMNTIDE is a walk, measured from the spring sunset to the spring sunrise. Then three months: GALVANE, GRAVITANE, and NECRUS. Right now, Galane is celebrated by reading a work of immediate poignance and connection. Right now, Gravitane is celebrated by a workshop, in which knowledge is impated from myself to others. Right now, Necrus is imparted by any game in which we convene, and each of us tries to win. SOLSTICETIDE is a walk, measured from the summer sunset to the summer sunrise, on the shortest day of the year. Then three months: NOCTUS, NIMBUS, and OCCLUDINE. Right now, Noctus is an indulgence, spending a considerable amount on books to expand knowledge and consciousness. Right now, Nimbus is an indulgence, spending a considerable amount on music to expand desire and consciouseness. Right now, Occludine is an indulgence, spending a considerable amount on materials to expand wisdom and consciousness. VERNALTIDE is a walk, measured from the autumn sunset to the autumn sunrise. Then three months: ONEIDINE, OCULINE, and LUNAS. Right now, Oneidine is a confession, made to a friend, truly, an expression of vulnerabililty, and a supplication for understanding and forgiveness. Right now, Oculine is a prayer, powerful enought to be offered throughout the night. Right now, Lunas is a NIGHTWALK, offered up to breath and sky in the rain. We are vulnerable. We are vulnerable. We are perpetually young and innocent, whatever we might say. And so, we arrive at EVENTIDE.

There's one more aspect to this calendar of "EVENTIME" which I add to the conventional calendar and the religious calendar, and that is the NAMING. At EVENTIDE each year is given a name, based on its essential qualities as perceived at the time. (Of course, over time, this means that many names will seem a little overblown or silly, but when we speak sincerely, there is something to be learned). I have also elected to name years in cycles of four and eight.

By my measure, the years of my life are named as follows:

The fourth cycle:
The Year of THE SYNCHOPATED SAILOR (26)
The Year of THE BOSSY BIG TOE (25)
The Year of THE HORIZON DIVIDES (24)

The third cycle:
The Year of CONJUNCTISYLPHISTRY (23)
The Year of DELVING (22)
The Year of THE HUNTER DIVIDES (21)
The Year of THE POWER SACK (20)

The second cycle:
The Year of THE AGIT (19)
The Year of THE COUNTERFLOOD (18)
The Year of THE BROKEN MIRROR (17)
The Year of THE STORYTELLER (16)

The First Cycle:
The Year of THE MASK (15)
The Year of THE TRAMPOLINE (14)
The Year of SUMMERSEVE (13)
The Year of THE STELLAR FIRE (12)

The first eleven years are considered UNDIFFERENTIATED.

GOTHIC FUNK

At a number of parties I've been asked what Gothic Funk is.

A comprehensive answer is grounded among historic and cultural forces; it may be verbosely and incompletely but accurately summarized as a retaliation against the soulessness implied by postmodernism that neither subscribes to the naivety and narrow-scope of what is called (these days) the NEW SENTIMENTALITY. That said, there is a more pervasive quality to the Gothic Funk that pervades art and culture of all times here and there. That is the subjection of uncut passion to the barest restraints. Ultimately we are unconcerned with where such passion emerges, or what inconsistencies and mutabilities it attains as a result of the shifting contexts of language. Quite simply, the Gothic Funk asserts that our impulses mean something concrete and that the essential essence of these motive is both communicable and comprehensive. THIS is the "universal" quality of Gothic Funk. It is a refutation of Postmodernism, pure and simple. Gothic Funk states that Postmodernism is, while not bullshit, at this point, a waste of all our time.

As pertains to my own work, the words can be taken more literally. From a western perspective, there is a clear line demarkating the rational and the supernatural, with those commited to "God" throwing it on the side of the "rational" and agnostics and atheists throwing it on the side of the "supernatural." It does not matter. Since passion is the defining quality of Gothic Funk, subjections are insubstantial. My projects straddle the Real and the Supernatural, and derive strength and rigor from inherent contradictions. In fact, stories, characters themes, and truths derive strength and authenticity from their ability to withstand contradiction, and so the deep Christianity at the heart of pagan Euphemism, the horrible writing at the core of Immortality, and the fact that Arkaic does not exist provide these works with both elasticity and authenticity.

BLACK HOLE IN THE WALL

Business is the motivating factor in our culture. When Gothic Funk merges with Blue Skies Falling, it will not be as a nonprofit theater group eeking a modest living among the big trees. Rather we will exploit the governing structures and subject them. We will make profit a slave of profit. When the prosperous realize that medicine, money, housing, clothes, and careers for all make them wealthy, even as money makes them poor, our voices will magnify. We become exponential and grow. We stretch and expand and yawn and are not ashamed. We are only in our teens and twenties. Our voice, our sex, and our mind will propell the world for the next forty years. This is a gift. Let us not forget, but use it, and use it for good, wholesome, active good at every opportunity.

Do we believe?

We answer not with words but with breath, and as breath extends to action, may we declare our love through our commitment to the expansion of good in this world, our commitment through our actions, our actions through thought, our thought through feeling, and our feeling through breath. It all comes down to breath.

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PART 2. THE INTERESTING PART

I have a happy for you for you. I have have a happy for you.