Last (for now) cluster of thoughts on mass action, December 2014.
Art, in what follows = writing, since I’m first a writer, and I want to speak from myself.
Writing is protest. The end of writing is silence. Let’s achieve our end in an act of silence.
The end of writing is silence: We have to face the fact that we can’t do this, that exactly matched to our desire to express is the inevitability of our failure. Nothing can world the world, except, and, well, this is the kind of thing that leads me to the logical inevitability of God, but that’s – let’s leave that for another conversation. The best of writing rushes us to the verge of its own annihilation. Rhyme and meter point in poetry to invisible force via arbitrary obedience. The function of meaning in any writing is to thin and flex itself, to refine itself to weakness, to confess at its death to its fallacy. We are better at being meant than at making meaning. Best: to be. That state of being, of presence, is, classically, the immobile center of a wheel (in spatial terms) or silence (acoustically). When the note is so right that there is nothing but the note, there is no longer any hearing; we’re the note, noting (nothing).
And we’re not nothing, not yet, not noting, not still; we’re in an evolutionary condition. If the center spins, it spins something; the note resonates in an atmosphere. We are born approaching, turning (turning with, turning to), we are born resonating. To what do we turn? With what are we resonating? What are you recognizing as your creative cause and destiny on a daily basis? Who knows? (Or, in that other conversation – “God only knows.”) As with drafting a play, you don’t have to know the play in order to write it; you do have to write it in order to know it.
So the important thing is turning to, is revolution, daily.
As mnemonic of the objectives of the revolution, we practice silence.
Here’s where I land on the Silence Riots of 2014: Let’s be silent for a month without immediate concern for any outcome of this demonstration beyond a reminder of our capacity to recognize the ultimate source of speech and movement, in quiet and stillness. Then, let’s see how we’re re-conceived.
Sodality of silence.