Invoking Hate While Pleading Tolerance

First of all, I hope that everyone had a wonderful World Goth Day on the 22^nd. 

          I wanted to continue my thoughts on morality and bullying, but change it slightly, so I have decided to talk of Sophie Lancaster as well as hate and tolerance in general.

          I am sure many Goths are very familiar with the name of Sophie Lancaster and her story, so I am not going to go into the greatest details on it. The basics are that Sophie and her boyfriend, Robert, were walking in a public park, were seen by a small group of teenage boys and attacked for their attire, which was Goth in nature. First they attacked Robert, and Sophie, pleading for his life, was attacked next. Her boyfriend lived, but she did not. As far as I know, those involved still see nothing wrong with what they did and felt it justified because they were Goths.

         What is it about those who are different that instills so much hate in people? Why are people so quick to be negative and harsh and cruel, but hesitate to be kind and stand up in a respectful manner for what they believe in?

         Sophie and Robert did nothing to elicit any sort of crime against them and no one deserves that sort of treatment regardless. But people are quick to judge, quick to slander, quick to hurt. People often forget that we are all human.

         I have always found it sad that media and others tend to portray Goth in such a negative fashion. More often than not, people have an image of what Goth is that is not true and this image invokes hate which can lead to horrible actions and deadly consequences. At this same time, I have found that Goths tend to be passive and tolerant, accepting of others and their lifestyles and beliefs. Not at all as we are portrayed by so many venues.

         Then we have the very few that are role models in the media. Take for instance Abby from NCIS. She is a good Goth role model. However, though I love Abby’s character, she is used more often than not as a ‘kinky’ sex symbol.I don't exactly see this as a good thing. Not all Goths are sexy, and not all Goths are kinky in bed. Goth is a music subculture, not a BDSM, satanic orgy what consists of vampirism and loose morals. (not that there is anything wrong with BDSM, Satanism, orgies, or vampirism if that is what you like!)

         What I find most depressing about the violence against Sophie and Robert (other than Sophie’s death) is that Sophie pleaded to be left alone. Even in such a perilous situation, she was pleading tolerance. And they had not listened, they had not cared.

         Hate is a terrible thing. It can eat the soul, destroy your humanity. It can make you angry and lash out at others. Hate is not healthy and one should always be mindful of the hate they carry and try to understand why they carry it, and if possible rid yourself of it.

          No one deserves to die for being different. No one deserves hate. And no one deserves to be treated uncivilly. I think we, as people, have largely forgotten what to do with humanity. All the fighting, all the senseless deaths and intolerance. Sophie should never have had to die .she should not have been a martyr for the Goth subculture. No one should.

          I often think that people are so quick to hurt others and cause negativity because it is easier than standing up for yourself and being kind. But then, as mentioned in my last post, I also think there is a bloodthirsty part of us that people simply long for and it shows every now and then in our actions towards others and towards ourselves.

          Let’s stop the hate, people. Because another instance like Sophie Lancaster and Robert Maltby should never happen. Sophie’s mother started the S.O.P.H.I.E Foundation in honor of her daughter. It S.O.P.H.I.E stands for “Stomp Out Prejudice, Hatred, and Intolerance Everywhere.” I hope we can someday do just that. 

Let Us Stomp Out Violence Everywhere

(In Gothic Memory Of Sophie Lancaster)

Oh, let us stomp out violence everywhere

May its hatred and pain forever cease

Let us stomp out violence everywhere

So our souls can rest in peace

They vowed to be together forever

But forever came to soon

As hand in hand they walked in the park

In the light of a midnight moon

The teenagers seen them coming

They laughed at them and jeered

They did not care that they were people

As they looked and hated and sneered

Oh, let us stomp out violence everywhere

May its hatred and pain forever cease

Let us stomp out violence everywhere

So our souls can rest in peace

Time seemed to stop its ticking

As the group lead them into hell

Unconscious the boyfriend then laid

And to his side the girlfriend fell

She pleaded for his life

His bleeding head within her hands

But instead of letting it rest

They ignored her suffering demands

Oh, let us stomp out violence everywhere

May its hatred and pain forever cease

Let us stomp out violence everywhere

So our souls can rest in peace

They focused then on her

They beat and kicked her head

Only when the damage had been done

Did they leave them to their bloody bed

The couple was rushed to the hospital

But the help for one came too late

Though the boyfriend would live

She had met her fate

Oh, let us stomp out violence everywhere

May its hatred and pain forever cease

Let us stomp out violence everywhere

So our souls can rest in peace

She was a stunning beauty

Her life but a moment in time

A life full of potential ended

By such a foolish crime

Let us Stomp Out Prejudice

Hate and Intolerance Everywhere

Let the violence end with us

And show others how to care.

Oh, let us stomp out violence everywhere

May is hatred and pain forever cease

Let us stomp out violence everywhere

So our souls can rest in peace

-Midi

December 2009

Relative Morality

      This post is dedicated to ALL who have been victimized.


         I have long believed that everything in life is relative, that is to say that what is true and acceptable for me, may not be so for someone else. I feel that this relativism ‘law’ applies to all things, however absurd a view that may be. I am entitled to that view; just as someone else is entitled to refute it. After all, what is an opinion if not blind faith in one’s own intelligence, however right or wrong?

        When speaking of polar opposites, such as right and wrong, one may- or even should-ask if such extremes should even exist.  After all, if everything is relative, and nothing is wholly one way or the other, then surely there can be no extremes. Everything is a grey area. In my mind, not even a purely altruistic person exists, nor do I believe no one person ever alive – now, in the past, or in the future, could ever be fully immoral in every regard. Every ‘evil’ person has good moments, pure moments, and every ‘saint’ has a tendency to want to ‘sin’. In my mind, this is human nature. We cannot be only one way all the time- the human race is too dynamic to stay so unfailingly constant in personality.

         If this be the case- where does morality fit in, why should we be moral creatures, and what exactly does morality mean? Questions like this could puzzle a person if one thinks on it long enough, because, as stated above- these answers vary from person to person…or does it- does it really?

         I am not sure how many of you, my dear readers, are familiar with Emile Durkheim or his work. I am utterly enthralled by him. Emile Durkheim was a sociologist (the father of sociology, actually), and a profoundly intelligent man. He wrote on topics such as suicide, religion, crime, and morality.

        Durkheim believed that people consist of two warring halves. The individual self and the social self. We must give some of our individuality to progress, attend to, and be a part of, the societies we create. 

According to Durkheim  

“The painful character of the dualism of human nature is explained by this hypothesis. There is no doubt that if society were only the natural and spontaneous development of the individual, these two parts of ourselves would harmonize….In fact, however, society has its own nature….Therefore, society cannot be formed or maintained without our being required to make perpetual and costly sacrifices. Because society surpasses us, it obliges us to surpass ourselves, and to surpass itself, a being must, to some degree, depart from its nature—a departure that does not take place without causing more or less painful tensions…” (Elementary Forms [1914] 1973, p. 163).

         In this way, we think, on a basic level, as a whole, or what he calls the collective consciousness. It is not so unlike the Borg from the Star Trek series when you stop to think about it, or a worldwide computer. We are individuals functioning and existing together, creating our moral codes on a whole, cultural scale that can, for the most part, appease everyone and brings us all together for a common goal- social harmony and the idea of justice, regardless of individual opinion. The societal dictates outweigh the dictates of one and to appease the society we must abide by the moral laws therein. 

        Through this process of conforming, while at the same time constructing social morality, one must realize that though morality in and of itself is subjective on an individual level- on a cultural level, basic morality holds true for most people and therefore people within a given society are prone to the same moral ideas, for better or worse. So what exactly is morality? I like to think of morality in the same context that Durkheim defines crime:

“An act is criminal when it offends strong and defined states of the collective consciousness. In other words, we must not say that an action shocks the common consciousness because it is criminal, but rather that it is criminal because it shocks the common consciousness. We do not reprove it because it is a crime, but it is a crime because we reprove it” (Durkheim, [1893] 1933: 80-81).

        If you replace ‘(a) crime’ with immoral, then you have my definition of what exactly morality means to me. When something offends, it therefore has the potential status of ‘immoral’ behavior.


        Now, in one’s life (be it only once or many times over) a person will come into contact with a person or people who takes delight in being offensive in such an intellectual manner as to seem logical, while at the same time proving his or herself to be utterly devoid of all common dignity, decency and morality. Is the person(s) who behave in such a manner sociopathic, trolling the internet; cyber-bullying or bullies other people in general? Should we even care?

        We shouldn't care about the cruel ideas of others, but the sad fact is most people do. The likely answer is that we care because it shocks. People flock to negativity and disgraceful gossip and opinions just as the Romans flocked to the coliseum to watch people and animals be tortured and killed, and why even today when some trauma happens be it physical or emotional, people are apt to witness, rather than act and make the situation better. It’s the shock, the understanding that it is exciting in its misery and it gives us a glimpse of the bloodthirsty part of us that we tamed long ago, but still has a tendency to rear its ugly head when the smell of blood is fresh and near.

         However ‘intoxicating’ such behavior might be (either for perverse pleasure, pride, offense, or what-have-you,) the behavior displayed by the creator(s) of the vulgarity is committing social immorality. Why do I make such an extreme suggestion that the person(s) who seek out others to hurt for spite are socially immoral- because it is a cultural recognition, both in America and abroad, that bullying is wrong, can be considered a crime, and for many- is considered an immoral act against other individuals.

         Such vocal vulgarity against others is tolerated because of free speech, which I defend, even when I feel it best a person not speak at all for the sake of both self-respect and the pain the person(s) inflicts knowingly on others (such as Westboro Baptist Church and Terry Jones from Gainesville Florida). But, with that said, exactly how far can one take free speech? When does free speech turn into hate speech and when does hate speech become a crime? Now, in England, there are laws in place for hate speech, but the defining of these laws are lines I do not know personally. I also know that there are laws, again both in America and abroad, in regards to bullying. I also know that Florida- the state I live in- is one the states that have laws against cyber-bullying. I also believe that the modern day laws need to catch up to modern day problems. The bullying can go across countries, the hate speech can be vile, and the laws are not enough for the socially immoral person(s).

          Please note that I said socially immoral (and even social morality is subject to change with each generation, taking for instance slavery, racial intolerance and the present day civil debate on marriage equality). I do not believe that any person can be utterly despicable in every regard, because, though I believe that people such as this takes pleasure in being a menace to other people (either online, in person, or both) I also do not believe the person(s) responsible to be wholly immoral, evil, or what-have-you. Again, as said in the beginning, I do not believe such singularity exists in the human nature. We all have moments of goodness, just as well all have moments of maliciousness. 

         But the doings of people who seem to do everything possible to make the lives of other people utterly miserable, begs the question:  why do people prey on others, especially over the internet where such attempts seems so cowardly and contemptuous since the person(s) can hide behind their screen and never have to face in person the ones that they slander?

According to Durkheim:

“The totality of moral regulations really forms about each person an imaginary wall, at the foot of which a multitude of human passions simply die without being able to go further. For the same reason—that they are contained—it becomes possible to satisfy them. But if at any point this barrier weakens, human forces—until now restrained—pour tumultuously through the open breach; once loosed, they find no limits where they can or must stop. Unfortunately, they can only devote themselves to the pursuit of an end that always eludes them” (Moral Education, p. 42). 

“The notion of the infinite, then, appears only at those times when moral discipline has lost its ascendancy over man’s will. It is the sign of attrition that emerges during periods when the moral system, prevailing for several centuries, is shaken, failing to respond to new conditions of human life, and without any new system yet contrived to replace that which has disappeared” (Moral Education: [1925] 1961, p. 43).

“Whenever moral rules lack the necessary authority to exert, to a desirable degree, a regulatory influence on their behavior, we see society gripped by a dejection and pessimism reflected in the curve of suicides (Moral Education: [1925] 1961, p. 68)

“During periods when society is disorganized and, as a result of its decadence has less power to exact the commitment of individual wills, and when, consequently, egoism has freer reign—these are calamitous times. The cult of the self and the notion of the infinite go together” (Moral Education, p. 72).

           Perhaps the ego or morality compass has gone astray in people such as this. Maybe the person(s) have a lack of compassion and empathy. Maybe the person(s) needs an ego check and needs barriers desperately. Maybe the person(s) are simply cowardly if hiding behind a computer screen to fill whatever voids, physical constraints, or emotional deprivations that he or she is enduring or has endured. 
           Bullying brings the person(s) empowerment, just as a raping gives the rapist the euphoria of control. So long as the person is given credence, is gaining attention, and getting his or her high through such means of intellectual degradation, it will never cease and the person(s), like the gladiators of old, will have the moment of glory, however vicious.  But never forget, for all who are victimized by those who cause harm that even a gladiator can fall given the proper methods of extinction (such as ignoring, kindness, understanding, getting law enforcement involved, etc…).

         So, even though morality is relative, we are still humans and share common ideas in the barest, most basic of ideologies. Therefore, things such as respect, manners, and proper etiquette will always be something I value, not only in myself, but in others. Those who have little to no social or public morality are not worth my concern.  Morality, though relative, is needed for civil human discourse and daily ‘public’ functioning within a culture. We all have our predispositions to do harm, but we also have predispositions to rise above it. It is called cognitive ability and the evolutionary trait of being able to think critically, subjectively, and socially. It is such a pity when the person(s) behind the neurons and synapses uses the connections within the brain to hinder rather than encourage in productive ways.

       If you have been victimized by those who would do you harm, never let them rule your life- your decisions. Get help. Learn your laws. Please, do not ever let anyone break your spirit.

         I leave you now with a song by Wendy Rule. Enjoy. 

Gothic Soul-Mate Part II of II

Now the conclusion:

             Soon the two friends left us and we were two like souls living as one. We stayed together in that dwelling, where occult came alive and life was nothing more than a dark eroticism from my deepest fantasies, for seven years. In that time he became my teacher, my friend, my confidante, my lover, and my life. He was everything I needed to feel alive- both body and soul.

             Ours was a relationship few could comprehend. The nights of ecstasy, the hours of intellectual discourse, and the time spent learning, experimenting, and just being together. Words between us were barely needed. A touch, a kiss, a look, a motion, could say more than a hundred words ever could. Our methods of communication transcended the verbal and reached levels of such acute awareness that seems so impossible as to be hard to explain. We knew each other’s minds, just as we knew each other’s souls and bodies.

        One day, he and I awoke rather melancholy and I could not explain why. Something this day was wrong, different in a negative way I was no longer use to since becoming joined with this man. I knew he felt it most acutely as well. His cheerful personality, his light heart, and free spirit were weighed down by thoughts so turbulent, it hurt him physically.

         We decided to walk in our favorite place- the ancient looking cemetery down the lane. And so we did. While walking, I took note of his physicality as I often did. He had changed much in the time we were together. His clothes, which he still made himself, had changed. Instead of different materials and schemes thrown together hap hazardously, the patterns and materials were distinct and the embodiment of the elegant man he had become.  Gone was his rebelliousness, his brashness, replaced with understanding and wisdom. His hair had not changed over the time we had been together, still holding the random braids, the multi-colored shades of brown on black. I loved his hair dearly.

            We walked a way down the gravel path within the graveyard. Normally the sight of the old stones gave us peace, today it did nothing. We were both as sad as we had been when we awoke. If I had known how to ease his pain- I would have, but my own was so server that I felt no amount of effort would be sincere enough.  I felt like crying, though I know not why.

             After a while we came to stand by a cement bench that stood just a few feet away from the cremation section of the cemetery. He squeezed my hand and continued on alone and I knew it was something he desperately needed to do. I sat on the cemented bench and watched him as he walked through the cast iron gate the set the cremations apart from the other graves. He knelt in front of an articulately created gargoyle fountain and murmured lowly, so lowly I could only make out his brilliant baritone that always made my heart beat faster for hearing it.

             When he was finished, he stood once more, closed the cast iron gate and sat with me on the bench. Then he just held me. My heart was breaking for him- for me. But why? Suddenly, I knew why. The reason echoed clearly in my head as if spoken to me directly from the gods. He feared my leaving him. The notion was so preposterous as to be laughable. Leave him? He was my soul come to life. How could I ever do that? To leave him would be the death of me, I was sure for I myself could not handle such a tragedy.

               Yet as these thoughts pounded my head- I knew there was a nagging truth to the fear. Something was wrong with me. I was weak and did not feel right. It was unnatural. I looked deeply into his chocolate eyes, eyes that reflected his soul, his mind, his longings and I knew the truth of what was happening to us- to me. It was a knowledge that struck such fear in me that I trembled.

I knew, then, that what we had- the time together, had been nothing more than what we would call a human dream. I was dreaming. No, not dreaming. I was on a different plain of existence, somewhere not attached to my mortal body. I did not belong on this plain and could stay no longer. The life force was returning to my physical self in the world I belonged in so long as my body drew breath.

              I also knew that he had known this truth since the moment he saw me. It was the reason he had avoided me.  He knew that he and I were soul-mates, twin flames and he was not sure if he could stand parting with me when it was my time to go back my mortality. He knew I was just visiting, my stay was not permanent. Yet- he decided to be with me, despite the knowledge and had not once let it affect our relationship once he won the war within himself to finally approach me. I loved him all the more for being able to be with me despite his knowledge. I am not sure I could have been so strong. I do know, though, that was our deep love that had kept me there so long, but I could sustain the connection no longer.

         If I could have given my flesh up to stay with him- my life as a mortal would have ended right then, but it was not meant to be. I had things to do before I could truly be with him and we both knew it. He gave me a weak smile, understanding that I now knew what he had tried so diligently to protect me from. We sat there, for how long I know not. We just sat there, holding each other. No words, no impassioned kisses or caresses. Just pure intimacy in the joy of being held by the one your soul belongs with. Slowly, I felt myself weaken. I could sense my physical body. The world around me began to dim. I was fearful and insane in agony. He comforted me even as he disappeared.

          I knew the moment I reentered my body. I came fully awake, and I cried. What had been merely hours in this life, was years in the other. After my tears had dried, I immediately wrote down all I could remember, scared I would forget him. I need never have worried. The memory is just as vivid now as it was when I experienced it. This happened a little over five years ago. I think of him often, both on what was written here and what I keep only for myself to know. I miss him. I long for him. I wonder if it was a dream, if he was real and perhaps alive somewhere- in this plain or another. I have never dreamt of him again, but I cannot help but feel I will one day be reunited with him. However, until then, all I have is the short memory and the worst cruelty of all- I cannot remember his name. 

(Note: I also added a video to part one!) 

Computers, Programs, and Failures, Oh My!

Because of technical difficulties. My computer will not start, and I am likely going to have to purchase a new one. Because of this unexpected obstacle, I will be unable to post the second part of my last posting, but I am working diligently to get another computer, transfer my information, and post part two. Until then, I thank you all in advance for your support and understanding. For now, I will leave you with a poem!

Oh Night, how your darkness surrounds me
Engulfing my soul in black wings
Oh Night, what a spell you have on me,
As you lift me into Saturn's Rings.

Oh Night, I long for your presence
The day is but a slap in the face
Oh Night, please will you not take me
Into your blackened embrace?

 Oh Night, only you give me joy,
Your solitude calms the day's fears
Oh Night, only you give me comfort
The sunlight cares not for my tears.

Oh Night, you are so understanding,
Only you turn my worries to bliss
Oh Night, you fill every void,
As I turn my head to your kiss.

Oh Night, I knew from the moment you touched me
That nothing would e'er feel as you do
Oh Night, I am done with the daydream
With all things of light I am through.

-Midi

2008

Gothic Soul-Mate Part I of II

This is (based on) a true story.

I have been granted in this life, the rare privilege of meeting my soul-mate, my twin flame, my other half. My soul-mate, in this meeting was within the body of a man. A very gothic man, with a soul as dark as my own. I saw him across the way and my heart nearly stopped. He had long, straight, flowing raven locks of hair, with streaks of cinnamon brown, braids here and there scattered about in a rational frenzy. His clothes were made from different materials, with no set scheme. He looked ancient, but modern, sexy yet subtle, mysterious yet familiar. He was the personification of everything I was, everything I longed to be, everything I felt and desired and loved and it scared me.

It was quite obvious it frightened him as well. Time after time we would see each other as our paths caused us to be in the same place fairly often, but we would never talk to one another. He would steadfastly ignore me; pretend I did not exist, though when he looked at me, his eyes spoke not of disinterest, but something deep and unfathomable. It was something I could not explain. I longed for him secretly. I was fascinated with him. His every move entranced me, called to me, though I refused to show it and I ignored him just as stoically as he did me. Constantly and without fail he was want to pretend I existed not, choosing instead to focus all of his attention on the two friends he was never without and he would avoid me at all cost. His animosity toward me perplexed me.

Was it because I was Goth, like himself and his friends? Was there something he seen inside of my soul when he looked into my eyes that he found disturbing? I knew not. But I did know that despite his behavior, and my returned avoidance of him, that I wanted nothing more in this life than to know him. I could not explain the desire. I was a solitary creature. I did not like people and refused to be in society longer than I had to be. I never wanted company or longed for companionship- until he came along.

One day I heard of a Gothic theatre and decided, perhaps against my better judgment, to visit the building. It was dark inside, and the theatre was complied of strategically placed tables with accompanying chairs, the stage small and taking up an entire wall in front of all the seating. It was more of a lounge than a theatre in my eyes, but quite comfortable. Each table had its own lighting and I choose one by the stage and opened the book I carried with me and began reading. I know not how long I sat there in the exile of my imagination, but suddenly all lights became dim. It dawned on me that they must be rehearsing for an upcoming show. As I was not asked to leave, I decided to sit back and enjoy the dark rehearsal.

In a fury, all the Goths came into the theatre, dancing in a way one should only dance for the gods. It was beautiful, those movements. Words would never do it justice. Then I saw him, dancing like a heathen at harvest. He was perfect in every way. All at once, the gothic dancers started pairing up, including him. It was at that time, he seemed to notice me. Whether he knew I was there before or not I do not know, but by the look in his eyes, I would think he had known from the moment he waltzed in.

           The pairs all began kissing and holding each other, each forging a sexual stream of their own brand of intoxication. The heat they let off flew across the air, turning up the temperature by notable degrees. None seemed to notice or care, but continued on their sexual exploration of mouths and embraces. Except one. Him. The Goth man who seemed to haunt me. He was kissing his partner for all he was worth, and she him. But he was looking at me. The entire time, he looked only at me as if saying “I am doing this to her, but I want to be doing it to you. It is you I am kissing, am holding against my body, just you…” I cannot remember the rest of the play.

When the performance was over, those involved chatted for a while and then left, until only the Gothic man and his two friends remained. He kept staring at me, and refused to look away, his face held an expression of self conflict and hinted at an internal hell that raged inside his soul. I thought it best that I leave. As I came to that decision, he also came to a conclusion as he quickly approached me. Before I knew what was happening he stood before me and I had nowhere to run, no means of escape. I felt panicked by what seemed a sudden interest to my person by such an extraordinary man whom I had long since felt, deep all-consuming attraction for.

He stared imploringly into my eyes, his own eyes held a sea of dark brown that melted my heart and warmed my soul. After a few moments of the silent exchange of uncertainties he said two words. Two words that shattered my existence in waves of sheer ecstasy and fear.  He simply said, in a voice echoing with resolution “You’re mine.”

In the next minute he had grabbed me and had lifted me out of the chair, silently pulling me along to follow him, his hands around my arm as if frightened I was going to run from him. It was something he need never have worried about. I would have followed him anywhere at that point. His two friends trailed behind and came with us as he took me to a place I can only describe as a lair and I was quite sure it was his place of residence. It looked like nothing I had ever seen before. It was as dark and as gothic as anything could ever hope to be, a perfect mixture of subtle paganism mixed elegantly into all things occult.Thus our journey together truly began.