Contents of F:
Fag: (see Homo, but
repeat about 10,000 more times [like during my childhood].)
Family
- Choice and Biological:
There is a biological need and an environmental demand for families. When
humans are born the chances of them surviving without the aid of a family are
very slim. Due to this, the help of a family is necessitated until the time when
the little human becomes capable of taking care of the needs that a family
initially fulfills. At what point a human reaches this stage of independence is
different for each person. However, there comes a time in almost every
personās life when they are no longer dependent on their families to provide
him or her with the necessities of living.
In some poor communities, a common phenomenon is the creation of families
of choice. These families are born out of the necessity of having some
support group in place to make up for the lack of adequate resources afforded to
the biologically-related family. Families grow to include neighbors and friends
who fill roles traditionally reserved for blood relatives. Often, a community
must act together in order to ensure that all children are properly looked after
while parents are working. Because of the socio-economic position of these
families, they cannot afford daycare or paid nannies. In these situations, a
chosen family grows out of the shared responsibility for the children, creating
several older parental figures in each childās life, and out of the
interaction of the children, creating bonds not dissimilar to siblings or
cousins. The Īuncles, aunts, sisters, brothers and cousinsā that are created
in these situations, while lacking shared family trees,
maintain relationships very similar to Ībloodā relationships, and it
is sometimes impossible to differentiate one from the other.
The above example is not an experience many people have. For many,
oneās family consists strictly of those people who are related to one Īby
bloodā. In both cases, even after one is no longer physically dependent on the
family, the desire to have a relationship with oneās family remains, often for
psychological and emotional reasons. Often, this desire supersedes the very
common occurrence of ideological differences between one and oneās family. So,
if both a biological family and a chosen family are compelled to stick together
even in the case of severe differences, blood must have very little to do with
this decision.
Most people I have known have experienced a time of conflict in their
lives when theyāve reached their age of independence and have had to deal with
ideological differences between themselves and their families. Sometimes, this
period is extremely difficult for all involved. Often, this has led to estranged
or strained relationships. However, another typical outcome is that the
differences that lead to estranged or strained relationships - differences that
have to do with what is most important and sacred to a person - are overlooked
in order to continue the relationship. This is a very interesting situation. Why
is anyone willing to overlook extreme ideological differences, ones that would
typically make adversaries out of the people involved, in order to maintain a
relationship with someone else when it is not a relationship necessitated by
biological needs or environmental demands? There has to be a pretty good reason
why we are willing to put up with our brotherās prejudices, our uncleās
homophobia, our sisterās classism, etcetera.
At some time in my life, I was very close to my immediate family. They
made up my Family - those people that make my life possible, worth living and
enjoyable. At this point, no one in my immediate family fulfills this role and
everyone in my immediate family engages in activities that I find highly
objectionable. However, I want to be close to all of these people still. The
reason is that, at some point in my life, we shared something that I will never
have with anyone else. And for this reason we are inextricably bound. I will
always have certain shared experiences that will always make time spent with
these people time well spent. Itās sort of amazing that we could have
relationships so intense - relationships which overshadow changes that
might draw us apart.
The idea of a chosen family, one in which membership is dependent upon
common experience, rather than Ībloodā, is one that intrigues me. I believe
that having a system of support is necessary for nearly everyone... not
necessarily on a physical level but on an emotional level. This group I call my
Family. They differ from my family in that this Family is chosen.
I have some friends that mean the world to me, some of them I chose and
some of them were random and Iām not going to assume that because a friend
canāt be found on the family tree that theyāre not actually Family, or that
if they are family then they have to be a friend. My close friends are my Family
and some of my family are my Family too. Iām not going to draw silly lines in
the ground. My Family is the most important thing in the world to me, and in the
end they are all I have, but my Family is a little harder to get into than the
typical family and Ībloodā doesnāt always have that much to do with it.
For some people families are easy things - they hate each other or they
love each other or at least they pretend itās this simple. I question those
who quickly reject their family as fast as I question those that quickly accept
them (just as I would question quick acceptance or rejection of practically
anything else). For most people familial relationships are just not that simple.
A careful balance must be struck in order to have a worthwhile relationship.
Sometimes, that relationship should be non-existent, and sometimes, we should
take a little more time forging a relationship with family because in the end it
may be worthwhile (and this relationship may be more difficult to create
precisely because you are family). But difficulty should not necessarily
be a deterrent. There will inevitably be disagreements between any two people
trying to forge a close relationship. We must be equally prepared for, and
accepting of, these disagreements with our families as we are of our romantic
partners and close friends (for whom these disagreements seem more acceptable).
But we must also be prepared to end a relationship, regardless of who is
involved, if it is not a positive one. You would think that it is obvious, but
perhaps not; there can be many experiences within families - there must be room
for all.
The only way to really combat it is to pretend not to notice. Undeniably
we all advocate a fashion of sorts, and attempts to refute our consciousness of
non-verbal communication forms are vain at best. All tries for un-fashion are
inherently unsuccessful, as the fashion consciousness can appropriate anything,
turning the previously uncouth into runway fare. I suggest that individual
styles not be judged on how ćfashionableä they may be, but on their
substance: What is the environmental impact of pursuing this fashion form?; How
empowering is this style for its wearer?; How does a particular behavior pattern
affect members of a community?.
I
know sometimes we know we know it all.
All
rightly ordered and filed in our heads.
Our
species had to be, by virtue of its reason-
The
positing of itself at the center of all things.
So
we are the nuclei, and the epicycles spin.
So
we are the nuclei as everythingās cerebral,
And
we will problem-solve·
Thatās
just the way it is·
While
all that fish can do is swim.
But
thereāve been no fish whoāve sinned,
And
thereāve been no fish whoāve hated·
And
theyāre much too dumb to plan symbolic bombings.
Free
Jazz, the ĪNewā Version of Punk in the 1960ās:
According to Maximum Rock nā Roll, punk rock is and has always
been, defined as a certain approach to playing rock and roll music. ĪPunk
rockā, as the name so obviously suggests, is a type of rock
music. Maximum Rock nā Roll, and the vast audience they educate, refer to punk
rock as that type of rock music that is more Īin your faceā and
disrespectful than the traditionally disrespectful rock nā roll. The
disrespect of the different types of rock nā roll, exists to varying degrees,
yet it is always a kind of disrespect of Īyouā and/or Īthe worldā. As a
result, punk rock has become definable as a louder, more obnoxious, and less
Īorganizedā brand of rock and roll. This opinion is supported and attested
to by Maximum Rock nā Rollās comical ĪPioneers of Punkā features,
which seek, in almost every issue, to illustrate the history of punk rock. Punk
rock, according to these, is dirty rock, mean rock, primitive and nihilistic; it
is the rock that doesnāt give a fuck about what you say because there aināt
nothing to give a fuck about.
I, along with many other self-identified punks, flatly reject this
definition that makes a music Īpunkā on the grounds of its inherent apathy
and manifestation of style. However, a frightening amount of this non-productive
sentiment has been imported and anchored to almost every definition of punk that
Iāve come across. That is to say, even many of my Īlike-mindedā comrades
would explain the sound of some record or band as being punk, hardcore, thrash,
crust, or emo- and be intending with these designations to illustrate their
different musical styles and even their varying distances from apathetic
rock. Incidentally, Īemoā is short for emotional. And frankly, if emo refers
to music that is characterized as being emotional, then I would adamantly argue
that all good music must be emo music. I mean, who the fuck wants to get all
emotional over music that is emotionally detached from itself?
I have noticed that I am consistently looking for music that has defined
objectives for itself that it can openly profess. Of course, all musicians have
objectives, but only very few of them are willing to announce that they are
playing for sex, cash, and fame. But there is indeed a strain of music that
honestly and openly longs to be a proactive constituent in a sub or counter
culture. And, there are indeed musicians whom would be offended or exploited by
an audience that reduced them to the soundtrack of a fraternity party or the
backdrop for apathy (consider the difference?). There is indeed music that works
to create a new resource for its recipients- entertainment that can be
repeatedly drawn upon for the sake of change or growth. These are revolutionary
because they aim to radically change what is and to bring in something radically
different. They do not have to succeed at causing a revolution in order to be
revolutionary; for the latter always aims at the former. It is what they are
working towards- trying to erect in the place of something else. For me, music
does not have to be overtly political to be worthwhile, but it does need to wage
a fundamental Īprinciple-warā against the principles that permeate the
youth-culture it seeks to interrupt. If its principles are barely mutations of
the widely accepted standard (i.e. dirty rock, obnoxious rock, etc.) then I
cannot help but to view it as a music that fails to take advantage of its
capacity. In fact, I take offense pretty frequently to the music I hear which
degrades the very capacity of music. I am in love with music, and just as it is
with a person you love, I wish for music to fulfill its furthest potential.
This is how I consider music. I suggest all of this as the content of
punk, and I understand that it is a single definition in an abyss where one more
may not even be necessary. What do you think? Is it reasonable? If you do think
so, then let us not ignore history. There was a movement in jazz, circa the
early sixties, which thrived throughout the middle to end of that decade. The
movement was called Īthe newā, Īthe new musicā, Īenergy musicā,
Īthe new thingā, Īfree jazzā, or the Īavant gardeā. With regard to
the music Iāve characterized favorably and hopefully above, this Īnewā
music was amongst the most successful. It was, at that time, not called Ījazz
musicā by jazz connoisseurs. We can attempt to call it punk if we like, but as
you can see, it appears to be highly unnamable. When I first heard it, I had
already been listening to the music Iāve called Īpunkā for seven years·
But never before had I heard anything so Īpunkā. That is to say, Īpunkā
as an action instead of a description. It is a music that acknowledged the
imprisonment of western rhythms and melodies that marched right along, in a
straight-line-accordance with term-years and the corporate work-day. This
Īnewā music sought, therefore, to free the drums and the bass from the role
of time-keeping. It located a delicate beauty in the most furious disregard for
melody and the linear song. Yet, this Īnewā music was and is not devoid of
melody, for it sings a new tuneful melody- pretty and free. The bird in the cage
is pretty too, but it is not free. The opening of the cage, represented by the
playing of this music, might in fact look ugly to the masses that are so used to
confined melodies traveling from left to right like the reading of a
well-ordered but false history book. Like the nature of this planet, the
Īnewā music supplanted the artificial sounds of your great western movements
and idols with other noises like chirps, screams, squeaks, smashing, and an
overwhelming persistence to elude our predictions. In this way, the Īnewā
music was more romantic than the most popular love songs. That is to say, it was
romantic like Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Charles Baudelaire, not like Julio
Iglesias and the operatic. It was so free, that the unfamiliar listener could
only call it Īchaoticā. But this chaos was and is its order, and the
structure was and is much more like the structure of nature, where the elements
are in a constant dialogue with each other (i.e. evolution, erosion,
rock-formation, extinction, etc.) and are always giving birth. The music was,
and is still, the most pregnant Iāve ever heard. It has something to give
that, 39 years later, is still a newborn infant.
These musicians were so free in their playing that they tricked us into
thinking that they were incomprehensible- but please notice that this makes a
direct and immediate commentary on the state of our freedom as listeners. What I
mean by this is that any foreign language will be incomprehensible for as long
as you resist its semantics. And so it was that the incomprehensibility of the
free jazz pointed out the one-dimensionality of its critics. All of our punk
bands that are so eager to point out the forms and traditional structures of the
evil, Īoutside-worldā often fail to address their own adoption of forms and
traditional structures as their corrupted, blessed medium? The ĪNewā music
addressed this issue over and over again. In fact, it made the asking of this
question the living form of its every breath. Yet, it delivered the answer
always with the question. There is a wholeness it achieved that was repulsive to
the consumer raised on only parts; small pieces, cut to conveniently fit the
shape of a lullaby that you hear briefly before falling to sleep.
Further, this music belonged to a sub-culture of musicians, most of whom
possessed the technical mastery to play jazz music for the hip side of the
business- the only side of the business, or so the business would have you
believe. If they would have just bent in the appropriate fashion, they could
have made themselves some money. But, as it were, they refused to bend. They
were receiving a different kind of currency, you see, earning a different kind
of wage. They might, for example, drive a taxi in NYC- and then go to their real
jobs afterwards, behind the drums, or with a reed split by sarcastic, overblown
wailing. This music was and is improvised, argumentative, communal, provocative,
and implicitly and explicitly political. It never caused a revolution youāve
seen or read about, and yet it could not have been any more revolutionary.
It was once said of Albert Aylerās group that ć[t]heir sound was so
different, so rare and raw, like screaming the word ĪFUCKā in Saint
Patrickās Cathedral on crowded Easter Sunday. ·others shouted at the
musicians to shut up. I sat shocked, stoned and amazed by what I was witnessing.
Their music was unlike anything that I had heard before.ä
9
Now I can explain no more. I cannot
describe a thing that is unintelligible and yet profoundly intelligent. Our
language is not designed to treat such anomalies, and so the exploitation of
this music begins when the critics or I attempt to describe it like an immobile
landscape. As Milford Graves said of the music: ćSome people talk of freedom
but their playing what they think they should play. You canāt go into
freedom without conditioning yourself. If youāve been living a certain way for
twenty years and then all of a sudden you come out and say you want to be free,
it doesnāt work because youāre fighting yourself. Really thereās so much
more involved internally that itās like being controlled by your sub-conscious
self, deeper things of which youāre not aware. When the musicians who can
understand this type of freedom get together, we get a reward, but itās
nothing you can analyseä (249, ibid.).
The recordings are rare, but so is the CD that accompanies this book- and
so are most of your other records. Seek them out: Albert Ayler, Cecil Taylor,
Don Cherry, Roswell Rudd, Sonny Murray, Milford Graves, Frank Wright, Sun Ra,
John Tchicai, Tom Price, Henry Grimes, Gary Peacock, Perry Robinson, Edward
Blackwell, Ornette Coleman, Jacques Coursil, Beaver Harris, Jimmy Lyons, and
many others. If you find one, you will be led to many others.
You will likely find, even in all of your iconoclastic punkness, that the
music is very difficult to listen to at first; that listening to it is painful.
You may feel yourself being stretched out immediately in the opposing directions
that its non-linear expansion demands of you. I expect that your response will
be dramatic and unmanageable at first. You might, however, decide to manage it
by resolving that it sucks and rushing to turn it off- In which case you have
styled yourself as the punk who is rejecting the conflicts that disrupt your own
comfort... A comfort with definitions that have clearly missed the point.