Futurism Forever is a Union of Egoists, not a formal political group. So any of the views expressed in any article reflect the views of the person who wrote it. Not everyone who has ever contributed anything to the blog or podcast. We don't tow any political line collectively and our contributors come from many different backgrounds and lifestyles. A love for modern art in general, and especially Futurism is what we all have in common.
Cassini was a space probe sent to study Saturn. It burned up upon atmosphere entry to the planet.
I fall from a foreign sky
Endless depths I plunge,
Here to die.
Alone in the darkness I did soar
Until the time came, far from home
Power died down,
Left with no time
The first of my kind to perish
But oh what a view to see
This was a submission from Arthur Powell a poet whose work can be found at atopthecliffs.com
Last Night Dream was worth telling. So come her and give an Ear. It started with me walking through some broken eastern European Town to a Clothing shop. After I entered, I bought a blue Falangist Shirt and a Green Shirt just like one Codreanu had. Also there, I got a glimpse of myself in a Mirror and listen carefully. I had wide and comfortable Black Pants with Serbian Flags, Crosses, the Iron Guard Cross etc…
Paired with a wide and comfortable Sweatshirt without Hood, on there was Che’s Face with the Colours of White and Red. Around the Neck, was a Red Bandana where you could clearly see a Black Hammer and Sickle in a white Circle. And all of that paired with Black Boots. I walked out in the Store in Orange light, presumably back to my Home. Out of all the things you can Dream of, I get this strange Message.
One could say that Dreams mean nothing, but I am not one of them. My next Steps will be known shortly…
Take a Knife, Take a life
I shower in the light of revulsion
At the boo’s and hollars of the Geriatric
I shout at them “Take a Knife, Take a life”
Take a Knife, Take a life
The yells of the moralist
Do not deter my devotion to class war
I pray for them “Take a Knife, Take a life”
Take a Knife, Take a life
The Anarchist speaks
I ignore him
The Stalinst preaches
I ignore him
The liberal scoffs
And I ignore him
To me they are the same
I just shrug and say to them “Take a Knife, Take a Life”
Take a Knife, Take a life
Aesthetic is empty
Edge is not
For when you take a knife, you can take a life
And the Workers Revolution cries “Take a Knife, Take a life”
Check out the latest essay from 5cythe, Millenial Progressivism: The Spectacle of Change and Work
While there is no formal association between Futurism Forever and Promethean, we are big fans of their work and support what they are doing. Check out their blog and buy their zine if you are interested in Futurism approached from a Marxist perspective.
my dear Lord, my beloved, no one knows You as i do. You, the giver and taker, no one loves You as i do. my work is a gift to You. no one worships as i do. and yet, every single man raises his hands to the sky and, tears in his eyes, he says ‘no one knows You as i do.’
“Extreme seductiveness is at the boundary of horror” – Georges Bataille
Part I: The Sarcophagus
The night was long and the road was dark, the truck driver was angry to see his beer was almost over. 18 hours! He was awake for 18 hours, sleepy beyond belief. He was carrying some old, dusty, useless trash that was found in an archeology site. He had to bring it to a museum in Istanbul in a day, he only wanted rest but there were no motels around.
Finally he decided to open the radio, maybe some music would help him stay focused. But no! As always, they played the same old trash which brought him nothing but sleep. Traditional music for the fools, love songs for emotional faggots and-
«We are interrupting the music for an important announcement!»
The driver, Veysel, raised his eyebrow. Announcement? This late at night?
«From now on, we will be working with a new host! Now keep in mind, this change is only experimental. He claims that our music is weak, and he will bring ‘’real change’’ or whatever the hell that means…So, a loud applause for our new host!»
Veysel threw the empty beer bottle from the window; the noise made by the bottle cracking was the only noise between the short moment of silence between the announcement and the voice of the new host.
«Good evening to the honourable Turkish workers of the night! Good evening to those unsung heroes, who sacrifice their own sleep for the good of us all! It is said that music is the food for spirit, but for many years your spirits were fed rotten foods. Both your spirit and body gets exploited! I will change that with the feast I prepared for your spirits, let’s start with a little appetizer!»
And with that, the first song started. Veysel was shocked, this was nothing like he heard before. No lyrics, no traditional instrument… The music reminded him of a car engine. For a moment he wanted to close the radio. How was this music? His heartbeat got faster, he unintentionally stepped on the gas. His body was energized.
A hour passed, and in that hour he listened only to things his mind couldnt even comprehend fully. Then, he finally saw it. A motel!
He took his portable radio and left the truck. As he was locking his door, the new host started to speak:
«The night is long and dark
Roads are home
Home to the many horrors of night
Mysterious and savage
Evil, but strong.
What are you doing right now, workers of the night? Does this deep night scare you? Who knows what tomb the transporter carries? Who knows what horrors the security guard protects? A music, for the horrors of the night!»
Again, a new music started. But this time, it was creepy. And as the song played, Veysel started thinking… What was he carrying again? He walked towards his truck and thought to himself:
«Why do I even care, It’s just some old dusty relic… But what is this feeling of terror that makes me-… It’s the music. It’s the damn music. Couldn’t he play something joyful but new?»
He turned down the volume of the radio and finally looked at the back of his truck.
He managed to prevent a girlish scream at the last moment. This man was already above his forties. Yet what he saw almost made his mind go blank. He carried some stuff like this before that had an Egyptian origin. But the combination of the comments the host made and the music made the scene before him even scarier.
It was a sarcophagus. Although nothing like he saw before. This was no Egyptian tomb. He got closer and noticed the Gokturk alphabet on it. This was of Turkic origin, this was found here in Anatolia?
Veysel quickly closed the door and ran towards the motel. He paid for his room, got some food and locked himself in.
It was a small room with just a bed, chair and table. There was not even a TV around. The lamp was so small that it couldnt fully illuminate a room like that. He raised the volume of the radio again, this time he was playing something fun at least. He ate his food, listened to the funny jokes the new host made and finally laid down on the bed.
He closed his eyes, listening to the host. Host was talking about horse riding and the loyalty of horses. Veysel was reminded of the sarcophagus of Turkic origin. But there was no real reason to be afraid right? The body belonged to one of his glorious, barbaric ancestors. A barbarian who rode his loyal horse to battle, battles that led to the destruction of decaying empires. Decaying empires that still managed to tower above all of humanity thanks to the support it received from decades of history. They were indeed the greatest enemy of progress. But barbarians are the true progressives, they are the true bringers of change! They were the ones that destroyed these rotten towers and with their blood, wheels of history turned once more to a brighter future.
He finally feel asleep.
And he dreamed of his roots. Riding a horse and killing his enemies, shooting arrows and cutting heads… He dreamed of destroying cities. He was walking through the ruins of a Roman city with a chain in his hand. He looked behind to see his loot. He was carrying women and children to his Khan, he will be pleased. He pulled the chain and a naked woman fell to the ground, angrily he started to whip her. As the woman was screaming, Veysel was filled with pleasure.
Finally, he brought them to his savage Khan.
«Balamir Khan, I brought them to you!»
He woke up as the tall warrior turned towards him, scary music again! And someone was knocking on the door this late at night! Veysel ran towards the door, unlocked it even though every part of his body told him not to and opened it. He ignored his very being that tried to stop him from opening the door for a simple reason, it was just a radio station. He won’t submit to the childish fantesies he was creating in his mind! Before him, was a tall warrior.
He couldn’t even scream
PART II: Night Shift at a Museum
3 DAYS LATER
A long and dark night in one of the many museums of Istanbul. A rotting city of history and culture, it’s streets full of Kurds and Syrians. One could say that if the great conqueror of this city woke up, he would have to conquer this city again.
Alp was working as a security guard in this museum, his dreams of academic success was crushed by the corruption of this country. Now, he had to work in this place to feed his stomach. And yet, all he felt here was fear. He was afraid of being alone, he was afraid of the dark and he was afraid of the new music being played on the radio.
He was intrigued by it, he enjoyed it but still he felt terrorized by it.
He was waiting for a sarcophagus that was found in an archeology site but the driver missed the deadline and no one could find where he was until last night. His truck was found near a motel and the back was left open. Luckly, no one stole the sarcophagus. The driver was nowhere to be seen and another driver was assigned to the job.
The host started to speak
«Another victim to the horrors of the night! It seems that a worker of the night who carried a sarcophagus to a museum was found dead! His corpse, which was covered in whip marks, was found inside the sarcophagus he was supposed to bring. But this must be left a secret as the authorities try to cover it up. A song, for the victim!»
Alp’s heart skipped a beat. Dead? Whipped? Could this be the same sarcophagus? But no, it was said that the driver just ran away with…with… why did he run away again?
Alp sat down on his chair and took a large gulp from the water bottle he was carrying. And great, now he had to go to the toilet. He started walking towards the WC as he heard a womanly giggle. He took out his flashlight and looked around frantically. It was just his imagination.
He quickly reached the WC and started walking towards the urinal, then he stepped on a leaf. A leaf? Why here? He looked at the ground, there were some flowers here.
«Must belong to a man with a broken heart», he thought. He finally urinated and left.
Roaming the dark museum, he listened to the music. And he heard the giggle again, this time he followed the source.
He reached the Central Asia part of the museum. Ancient Turkic weapons, rugs, clothing was displayed here. And in the center, a sarcophagus. There was a space next to it for the other one coming. Visitors were not allowed in here until both of the sarcophagi were side by side.
He approached the sarcophagus, which had the engravings of flowers. It depicted a beautiful garden and there was a small booklet about its history.
It belonged to Banıçiçek, the wife of a Turkic warlord who terrorized these lands many centuries ago. The sarcophagus on the way belonged to her husband. The perfectionist fool who presided over this section did not want any visitors until both husband and wife were together.
Only problem was this, the fool went missing 50 years ago. It took 50 years to find the husband; and for the last 50 years his son, a local politician, threatened the museum owners.
«You cannot let anyone in here! My father’s spirit will curse me if you do so! Wait until the other sarcophagus is founded, or else I’ll make sure you will be scrubbing dirt in a southeastern village!»
As he was turning around, the host started speaking:
« The night is long and dark
Museums are home
Home to the many horrors of night
Mysterious and beautiful
Evil, but seducing.
What is it that you protect, young security guard? Do you protect the lifeless things that exist only to entertain the bourgeois, or do you protect the bourgeois from the ‘’lifeless things’’ that-»
Alp closed the radio. He was not listening to this shit, why did it sound like he was talking to him? Was he going crazy?
Alp started to move away. One step, another step, another step, another st-
He couldn’t move his feet, he felt as if someone was holding his leg very firmly. He looked down to see vines grabbing his leg.
He screamed as he was being pulled towards the now open sarcophagus, for a moment he saw what was inside.
A woman? Yet, she did not look dead…
And now, the longest night of his shift began. Inside the dark sarchophagus, he could feel the vines violate his body. He could smell the beautiful woman but could not see her. For hours, he would feel the thorns stab into his skin. It hurt, yet it also felt good.
Finally, it stopped. He heard noises from outside
«The Security guard is fucking missing? Search the entire place! Look if anythings stolen!»
He felt a soft hand in his back pushing him and he found himself in the WC of the Central Asia section. He quickly opened the door and saw his boss in front of the sarcophagus, talking with a police.
«Wait, you were in the toilet? Boy! The hell are you doing in there, I searched for you for the last 30 minutes!»
Alp looked at his skin, no signs of the torture from the other night. Was he just dreaming?
«S-sorry sir, I think the snacks I ate were rotten or something. Couldn’t leave the toilet for a hour.»
He was back home now and he quickly leapt to his bed.
His home consisted of a small kitchen, an even smaller bedroom and a toilet. He quickly fell asleep, no time to do anything else considering he had another shift tonight.
And in his dreams, he saw himself in a majestic garden. Beautiful women were picking flowers and singing. He could see many slaves tending to the garden. He was lost in this maze of beauty, mysterious yet scary. And, deep into the woods, he saw her. The woman in the sarcophagus, a dagger in one hand and a whip in the other.
He woke up knowing what to do.
He entered the security room secretly and spilled some soda over the computers. This was to make sure the cameras would be disabled. People were preparing to bring the new sarcophagus into the Central Asia section, but Alp was quick.
He managed to enter the section before anyone could see him and he approached the woman’s sarcophagus once more. He realized that it was slightly open, then gathering his courage he entered inside and was never seen again.
And the host spoke,
«If any of you are jobless, you are in luck! Weekend shifts in a local museum of İstanbul, a good paying and short job.They lack a security guard, seems the last one just left the city without telling anyone, and they need someone to keep those pesky thieves away from the diamonds!
But be careful, museums can be seducing and the pleasures might last…forever.»
hatred is holy it’s not the absence of love which would control me it’s much more, something above it is a radical love one that burns like a house fire the ultimate worship of the loving, hateful divine the higher
“Due to its enormous spread over time and space, Homosexuality is therefore not, a priori, against nature, because only very rare and out of the ordinary things are called against nature. For many people, homosexuality is as natural and spontaneous as heterosexuality. Nonetheless, the Futurists must confess that, in this regard, they are shamefully normal and traditional. Although one of their posters affirms contempt for women – considered as the symbol of all weakening romance – we are forced to confess that we like women and that we infinitely prefer them to any male. Some of us (Balla, Folgore, Govoni, Papini, Cavacchioli, Severini) have wives and children and the others are, more or less, obstinate womanizers. How could such a false legend have been born about us?” – Giovanni Papini
“Futurism is gay!” they say.
I have heard at least one Futurism Forever hater say this statement every single day since starting FF. Most of our haters from day one have been neo-nazi’s, many of whom are in fact homosexuals themselves, though they aren’t always open about that. Most of them are just salty that the official religion of the dissident right, traditionalism, is being criticized, and don’t have enough knowledge or interest in the subject to look into whether that statement is even true or not. When I hear someone express this statement I 1) think this person has horrible taste 2) suspect that they are homosexuals themselves and 3) assume that they have never looked too deeply into this subject. Is there any merit to this statement? Was Futurism gay or straight? What do they mean when they say “scorn for women”? Why are there so many “degenerates” around Futurism Forever? I will answer all these questions and more in this article.
But I want to get this out of the way up front. As an art style Futurism is not concerned with sexuality in any capacity and there is seldom any nudity in futurist art (officially banned from Futurist art in the Technical Manifesto of Futurist Painters). The nude in art was seen by Futurists as cliche, and was regarded as tacky sentimental trash. To illustrate the asexuality of Futurist art I would like to compare an Umberto Boccioni sculpture with an Arno Breker one.
The choice of Breker for comparison is not arbitrary. Hitler saw Breker’s work as the antithesis of “degenerate” art. Since most FF haters usually just paraphrase shit Hitler said about “degenerate” art (which included Futurism) this is the perfect comparison. Ask yourselves which sculpture is more homoerotic? The answer should be obvious. While both works are clearly masculine, Boccioni’s sculpture is not concerned with idealization or beauty of the masculine form in the same way as the Breker sculpture. Boccioni’s sculpture is entirely concerned with the movements of the figure. It’s a sculpture about speed. Breker’s work is a sculpture about masculine beauty. Which art style is really more “gay”? This is not limited to Brekers work. There is a lot more homoeroticism to be found in traditional art in general from antiquity to the renaissance. As an art style Futurism was trying to get away from eroticism in general, be it hetero or homosexual. That’s not to say that homoeroticism necessarily is homosexual, but it really makes you wonder about homophobia as repressed homosexuality with some of these people. These people call for the banning of everything modern with trumped up accusations of “degeneracy” and then cream themselves over art as seen on the bottom…
Futurism is concerned with machines and speed and urbanism and war. Sex is not something your going to find in Futurist art, and if you’re really prudish about sexuality this should make it your ideal art style. This should answer whether Futurism as an art style is gay or not. As an art style, no. It’s indifferent to sex, regardless of it’s orientation. But Futurism wasn’t solely an art movement, it was also a political and social movement, and futurist views did vary on sexuality and gender outside of the arts. This is where the question gets more complex.
The movement as a whole was opposed to sentimentalism, romance and eroticism in general. Marinetti felt that Italian men in particular, but Latin men in general, spent entirely too much time lusting after women. And that the pursuit of sex, wasted energy that would be better spent on more masculine pursuits such as fighting in wars, working in factories or beating up art critics. Marinetti explains in Extended Man and the Kingdom of the Machine:
“Today, one encounters men who go through life more or less without love, in a beautiful, steel-toned frame of mind . We have to find ways of ensuring that these exemplary beings continue to increase in number. These dynamic beings do not have any sweet lover to see at night, but instead lovingly prefer, every morning, the perfect start up of their workshop.”
This is a recurring theme in Marinetti’s writings. He saw modernity moving away from sentimentality and love, which had it’s implications on institutions like the family. Point 6 of the Manifesto of the Futurist Political Party was “Abolition of marital permission. Easy divorce. Gradual devaluation of marriage, eventually to be replaced with free love and children reared in state institutions.” To post 1960’s people free love implies cocaine fueled gay orgies, but to anyone who has actually read free love advocacy of the early 20th century, mostly written by Anarchists, it was usually meant as love free from the authority of the church and state. Marinetti’s views on love, sex and the family clearly follow a lineage from the anarchist milieu who were his contemporaries. Take this quote from Emma Goldman’s essay Marriage and Love for example:
“Ours is a practical age. The time when Romeo and Juliet risked the wrath of their fathers for love when Gretchen exposed herself to the gossip of her neighbors for love, is no more. If, on rare occasions young people allow themselves the luxury of romance they are taken in care by the elders, drilled and pounded until they become “sensible.”
In Emma Goldman’s view, Love and Marriage are two separate matters altogether. Love is anarchic, illogical and feeling based, while marriage is largely economic. An institution meant to prop up capital. “Marriage and love have nothing in common; they are as far apart as the poles; are, in fact, antagonistic to each other.” She continues:
“Marriage is primarily an economic arrangement, an insurance pact. It differs from the ordinary life insurance agreement only in that it is more binding, more exacting. Its returns are insignificantly small compared with the investments. In taking out an insurance policy one pays for it in dollars and cents, always at liberty to discontinue payments. If, how ever, woman’s premium is a husband, she pays for it with her name, her privacy, her self-respect, her very life, “until death doth part.” Moreover, the marriage insurance condemns her to life-long dependency, to parasitism, to complete uselessness, individual as well as social. Man, too, pays his toll, but as his sphere is wider, marriage does not limit him as much as woman. He feels his chains more in an economic sense.”
This sentiment is echoed by Marinetti in Destruction of Syntax:
“A reduction in the value of love (whether as sentimentalism or lust), brought about by the greater sexual freedom and accessibility of women and by a universal increase in female luxuries. Let me explain: Nowadays women care more for luxuries than for love. A visit to a great dressmaking salon in the company of an obese and gouty banker friend, who pay’s her bills, is the perfect substitute for the most passionate of love trysts with an adored younger man. The woman finds all the mysteries of love in her choice of an extravagant gown, in the latest fashion, something that her friends do not yet possess. A man cannot love a woman unless she has this luxuries. The lover has lost all status, while Love has lost its absolute value.”
Marinetti also expresses similar views on the institution of marriage in his essay Against Marriage:
“Woman does not belong to man but rather to the future and to the development of the human race. We want a woman to love a man and to give herself to him only for as long as she wishes; and then, unfettered by any contract or moralizing tribunal, give birth to a creature that society must educate physically and intellectually up to the high point of Italian freedom.
Where Marinetti differs from Anarchist Free Love advocates is in the role of the state in child rearing, but abolition of marriage and the family was a common cause of both anarchists and futurists at the time, and for largely the same reasons. They saw it as an immoral contract that was meant to keep both genders chained down, and doing away with the family would liberate modern people to realize their full potential.
Marinetti spends a lot of time promoting voluntary celibacy, free love and the abolition of marriage and the family unit, but when reading through his writings there is not much time spent on homosexuality at all. So why do so many turd positionists and tradfags think Futurism is linked to gay culture to the extent that they do? There is one quote from Marinetti’s Speech to the English in 1911 in which Marinetti speaks on the subject and that they will usually cite to “prove” that Marinetti and his movement were gay:
“So far as your young men of twenty are concerned, nearly all of them, at some time or other, are homosexual. This perfectly respectable preference of theirs stems from some sort of intensification of camraderie and friendship, in the realm of athletic sports , before they reach the age of thirty – that age of work and order in which they suddenly return from Sodom to become engaged to some impudent young hussy, quickly registering their severe disapproval of the born invert, the false man, the half woman who makes no attempt to change.”
This quote, pertaining to male bonding among young men at British boys schools, is half way pro-gay arguing that love between men is a positive thing in youth in the absence of women, but also argues that it is a negative thing when taken into adulthood. It’s a very specific case of situational homosexuality, like homosexuality among men at sea or men in prison. He is not arguing for homosexuality as a default norm among men in society at large, quite the opposite in fact, calling men like that “false men” and even “half women”. Furthermore this is the sole passage directly pertaining to homosexuality in the entirety of Marinetti’s Critical Writings. Marinetti’s sexual politics are much more concerned with free love vs celibacy, abolition of sentimentalism and romance and abolition of the family and the institution of marriage.
Now that we have offered a brief overview of Marinetti’s views, we can move onto opposing views from within the Futurist movement. It is important to state that while Marinetti was objectively the leader and central figure of the Futurist movement, his ideas and writings did not exist in a vacuum. There was much argument and debate within the Futurist movement about a good number of things, including on sexuality and gender politics.
One opposing figure is the French poet and ballet dancer Valentine de Saint-Point, whose Manifesto of Futurist Women and Futurist Manifesto on Lust we will contrast with Marinetti’s views.
The Manifesto of Futurist Women was written as a response to Marinetti’s “scorn for women” line in the Futurist Manifesto. She fires back “Humanity is mediocre. The majority of women are neither superior or inferior to the majority of men. They are equal. Both merit the same disdain.” Saint-Point argues that there have been both great men and women throughout history who have been heroic, visionary and innovative. The problem at present is that society as it exists is not conducive to creating such figures anymore. This is because the character of society has shifted too much to the feminine, and there are a total lack of masculine traits such as strength, bravery or honour.
To put this is context, we have to explore how Saint-Point defines masculine and feminine. “It’s absurd to divide humanity into women and men; it is composed only of masculinity and femininity.” To Saint-Point all men have a feminine side and all women have a masculine side. This helps create a complete individual, for a man who lacks a feminine side would just be a brute, and a woman who lacks a masculine side would just be a girl. But with the total lack of masculinity in early 20th century society, what we need now are brutes. In other words women should strive to be more masculine and women should strive to be less feminine.
“Periods which had wars that produced only a few representative heros, because it’s epic blast annihilated them, were periods exclusively virile in character. Periods that have denied the heroic instinct, looked back towards the past, and annihilated themselves in dreams of peace, were one’s in which femininity dominated.”
She identifies the early 20th century as an example of the latter, and in her view what we need now more than anything is virility. Both masculine and feminine. She points women towards figures such as Joan of Arc or Cleopatra as their feminine ideal, or role models who they should strive towards. While this kind of “girl power” has now been absorbed into second and third wave feminism it was rare in this period. It is important to note that Saint-Point, unlike Marinetti, rejects the feminist movement because it conserves traditional gender roles and only aims to secure equal rights with men. To Marinetti, women are still essentially mothers and caregivers, where Saint-Point want’s to transcend these distinctions.
“It isn’t necessary to give women any of the rights demanded by feminism. To accord them these rights wouldn’t produce any of the disorders sought by the Futurists, but on the contrary would bring about an excess of order.”
Few seem to remember this anymore, but there was actually a lot of support for first wave feminism from the right, as women at this time were more religious than men, and would therefore be more likely to uphold tradition. So Marinetti’s support for Feminism isn’t really as progressive as one would think. He hopes women in parliament will help discredit the parliament as an institution, and democracy at large. In Contempt for Women he writes:
“We who deeply despise politics are happy to abandon parliamentarianism to the spiteful claws of women; for it is precisely to them that the noble task of killing it for good has been reserved.”
Saint-Point views modern women playing a very different role:
“The woman who keeps a man at her feet with tears and sentimentalism is inferior to the prostitute who impels a man, by prompting him to boast, to preserve his domination over the depths of the city with a revolver in his hand. This woman, at least, cultivates energy that could eventually serve better causes.
Women, too long corrupted by morals and conventions, return to your sublime instinct; to violence and cruelty.”
Marinetti and Saint-Point share a lot in common. Both are disgusted by sentimentalism and love. Both want to abolish the institutions of marriage and family. Both glorify war as a transformative event that can wake up the sleeping Europe and inspire greatness in them once more. But clearly there views on sex and gender are different. While Marinetti supports the suffragettes, it is clear from things he said about them and their struggle that he didn’t take them at all seriously. He saw them as a means to undermine parliamentarism and democracy, not as revolutionaries who fought alongside men, but as support for the men. Also Marinetti was striving towards a post-erotic future where sex serves no real value beyond a utilitarian one: for making children. Saint-Point see’s value in sex and lust in themselves. She speaks on this briefly in the Manifesto of Futurist Women, but will elaborate on this subject much more in the Futurist Manifesto of Lust.
“LUST IS A FORCE, for it destroys the weak, excites the strong to disperse energy, and hence contributes to their renewal. Every heroic people is sensual: for them woman is the most exalting trophy.
Woman must be either mother or lover. True mothers will always be mediocre lovers, and lovers will be insufficient mothers by virtue of excess. Equal in their rapport with life, these two women complete each another. With the son of the past, the mother who receives a boy makes the son of the future. The lover dispenses desire that transports us into the future.”
On the question of lust in futurism what we start to see emerge is a split between Marinetti’s more Apollonian approach and the more sex positive Dionysian approach of Saint-Point. Personally I, and therefore Futurism Forever, leans more towards the latter view. Lust and sexual desire are healthy and natural and have been a motivator for pushing men to do great things since time immemorial. It’s what motivates the poet to write, the warrior to conquer, the business man to succeed.
“Lust excites energies and unleashes forces. In more primitive times it was pitiless in driving man to victory, for the honor of bringing back to a woman the spoils of the defeated. Today it impels the great businessmen who direct finance, the press, and international trade, to increase wealth through centralization, harnessing energies and exalting the masses in order to increase, to multiply, to embellish with such means the object of their lust. These men, burdened with their task and yet strong, find time for lust, the force that drives their actions and the reactions of others, repercussions affecting multitudes and worlds.
Saint-Point argues that it is Christian morality that aims to suppress desire, which it see’s as sinful. The suppression of our desires dulls and tames us. We need to reclaim our desires. We need to reclaim our ferocity. She argues that it is not lust that weakens us, but rather romance, sentimentalism and love:
“It is not lust that dissevers, dissolves, and annihilates, but the mesmerizing complications of sentimentality, the artificial jealousies, the phrases that intoxicate and deceive, the pathetic staging of separation and eternal fidelity, literary nostalgia: all the histrionics of love.”
Saint-Point also takes on a more ambiguous attitude towards homosexuality. While she does not speak on the subject she hint’s at it here:
“We must stop despising desire, this attraction, at once delicate and brutal, which draws together two bodies of whatever sex, two bodies that want each other, that are straining toward unity. We must stop despising desire, camouflaging it in the pitiful clothes of old and sterile sentimentality.”
Following her views on gender, with all humans having both masculine and feminine characteristics, coupled with her sex positive outlook, homosexuality would not be seen as sinful or immoral. Her worldview certainly points in that direction. But where Saint-Point only hints at homosexuality briefly in On Lust, the Florence based Futurists centred around Lacerba journal will explore the subject in much more depth and detail. Namely journalist and critic Italo Tavolato.
To Tavolato, if Futurism is about rejecting all tradition and morality, then this should obviously include all sexual morality and gender roles. He agrees with Saint-Point that gender is largely an androgynous construct with all humans containing both masculine and feminine elements, but where Marinetti and Saint-Point only hint at the homosexual implications of this view, Tavolato embraces and celebrates his queerness. To Tavolato, lust, pleasure, sadism, masturbation etc are merely human instinct and this should be embraced.
Despite Marinetti’s vocal anti-clericalism, you do sense an internalized Catholic moralism in his approach to sex. He views it as merely a utilitarian act for the purpose of child birth and continuing the race. It has a clear purpose and outcome. Pleasure has no value or purpose to him, in the way that it does for Saint-Point and Tavolato.
Like Saint-Point, Tavolato praises the prostitute as the modern feminine ideal, as the prostitute is free from sentimentality and romance. She possesses and honesty that is lacking in the feminine as an object of romance and love peddled by sentimental hacks. In the works of Saint-Point and Tavolato you see Futurism heading in an almost Bataillian libertine direction, in that it wages war on all morality and embraces the taboo, in a way that is implied in Marinetti’s early writings, but that he never fully actualizes. We begin to see two different conceptions of what Futurism should be. A pleasure based queer futurism and a reproductive Futurism. Van Ness writes:
“Mussolini’s ideas of reproduction and Marinetti’s theories about homosexuality and gender roles slowly, over the next ten years, align with each other, so that Futurism becomes more about reproductive futurism than about provocation as it was initially.”
This leads to infighting between the Milan based Futurists centered around Marinetti who represents reproductive futurism and the Florentine Futurists centred around Giovanni Papini, Ardengo Soffici, Italo Tavolato etc. Who reach more libertine conclusions. This split leads to the Florentine Futurists beginning to distance themselves from Futurism in general, and Marinetti backtracking on earlier positions and the movement increasingly being absorbed into reactionary political circles. Marinetti would even write a homophobic novel entitled L’isola dei baci. The story apparently involves the forming of a “pink congress” that aims to make Capri for men only. Van Ness writes “this “queer” congress founds a state incapable of reproduction, politically disengaged (cosmopolitan rather than nationalistic) and unconcerned about the future.” Marinetti ultimately purges all queer elements from the Futurist movement and embraces reproductive Futurism.
Now back to the central question of the article. Is Futurism gay? It wasn’t, but it probably should have been. Insofar as it was Marinetti’s movement, and he decided who was part of it and who was not. The first wave of Futurism (from 1909-1917) points in that direction, but never fully goes there. Then Marinetti purges the elements who are pushing it in that direction and Futurism gets absorbed into Mussolini’s Fascist movement. In my view Saint-Point and the Florentine Futurists followed Marinetti’s ideas through to their logical conclusions. Rejection of all traditions should includes rejection of traditional gender roles and sexual morality, but Marinetti becomes uncomfortable with the direction he see’s his movement heading in and tightens the reigns.
When Futurism initially started it was meant to be a provocative art movement and there was an element of confrontational shock value to the Futurist Manifesto. It seems reasonable to assume that the outbreak of World War 1 and the real political influence that presented itself as a result, caused Marinetti to readjust some of his earlier views. It is also worth noting that Marinetti himself was married in 1923 to Futurist painter Benedetta Cappa and had three daughters. In his own life, he was a wholesome family man and he never really practised what he preached. He called for the abolition of the family and the institution of marriage and promoted free love, but lived a fairly normal life himself. As he get’s older he also warms up to the Catholic church and drops his anticlericalism. It gains real world influence, but it loses a certain amount of its edge and rebelliousness. Great art was made in that second wave for sure, but it becomes just an art movement that is largely subordinate to Mussolini and Fascism.
Now where does Futurism Forever fit into all of this? What does the Gio think? I would identify myself most closely with the young Marinetti. Some of my contributors on FF are gay, but I myself am straight, and am fairly conservative here in my own life. I take a non-judgemental approach with FF and I really don’t care about the sexuality of my contributors if they are easy to get along with and are smart/creative and put in work for FF, I’m happy to have them. With that being said they are expected to follow chat rules which includes “no gay posting.” By that I mean no gay horny posting. While FF is ostensibly pro-LGBT, contributors are expected to follow a code of conduct that will not alienate straight people from what we do. Those who are unwilling to comply with the rules get kicked. The truth is that the FF chat isn’t nearly as debauched as it is sometimes rumoured to be. Our old chat did evolve in that direction, and I hated it so I nuked it, and I have only run a private/invite only chat since. Initially I didn’t want to impose too many rules. This was naive on my part, and I underestimated how bad things could really get. It’s been a lot better ever since switching to private.
With that being said, though we are pro-LGBT and I have gay friends, we are not going to be a part of the LGBT movement in an official capacity and we are not going to take up the cause of queer identity politics. First of all, writing this through pride month makes it abundantly clear that LGBT does not require FF’s support. They have the full support of the entire establishment from media, education, corporations and so on. Second of all I hate identity politics in general and think it gets in the way of creating viable revolutionary movements. IdPol keeps white people fighting with black people, men fighting with women, gay’s fighting with straights etc. IdPol is inherently divisive. I believe thats what it’s supposed to do, and thats why the establishment promotes it. I hated IdPol as an Anarchist, as a Fascist and I hate them now as a Futurist and I refuse to engage in it. What we need is an anti-capitalist/anti-liberal solidarity among genuine radicals, and I expect all my contributors to check their IdPol at the door. I won’t tolerate sexism, racism or homophobia in my group, and people who aren’t willing to comply with this aren’t usually around for long. That being said I’m not politically correct either. I call people I don’t like faggots. I body shame fat people. I call stupid people retarded. The left usually doesn’t appreciate this. So we butt heads with both sides constantly.
In closing, with this article I am not trying to win over conservatives or trads to Futurism. I expect them to continue to smoke their copium out of their penis shaped bongs and project their sexual identity issues on my little art channel, because they’re faggots lol. Frankly, I don’t want you guys around. But I do want to offer a brief overview of what the sexual politics of Futurism were, since it is so often misrepresented. Now do any of the FF haters want to address the gay roots of National Socialism? Or why there are so many photos circulating online of femboys and trannies posing in front of black sun flags? Or why so many people in your movement end up being gay? Who would have thought that the mannerbund model, that utilizes homoerotic aesthetics to promote itself and talks about hating and raping women all day would attract so many homo’s lol. Futurism Forever is a diverse group. Some of us are gay, some of us are straight. Some of us like drinking and doing drugs, some of us are straight edge. Some of us are left wing, others are right wing. But all of us are open about who we are and what we are about. We aren’t liars or hypocrites. We are who we are. Take it or leave it.
First pages of a to-be-written book about noise music, mysticism and pure experiences.
(GIN Nicolò is a writer from Italy, and an amateur noise musician, based in Milan, Northern Italy)
When I think of the best way to understand myself, I mean words and vocal sounds, I certainly think of the monologue. You know, that’s how you do a debate: you imagine a monologue and you bring it, broken up, to the audience. So it’s not very difficult for me to think up a character and bring it to life, because it’s making a part of me speak in monologue, breaking it up between actions, descriptions and gestures of the most varied kind, just to etch those few – and right – words into the mind of those who are hearing me. It’s all technical huh, Hitler came to power because he could speak well.
A book is nothing but wickedness, pure and simple wickedness, what kind? Like: opening a vein and bleeding while with your bloody arm you write, and it hurts, it hurts badly, but you have to. You have to open the vein if you want the demon to come out. There is nothing scientific about it, because science and art are two parallels that will never meet, it is everything, simple, technique and pain. Because art is pain.
Yespain, because the painter hurts his whole body, for days and days, before the canvas is ready, in the same way the writer sabers his arms until he gets the rightvein that makes him write. Art is not democratic, if you don’t talk about cutting yourself: everyone can do it, no one can be identical in the way they cut themselves and no one has the same blood pressure, anyone and everyone can be similar, but never identical. It is as meritocratic as a Confucian empire, only those who can pull the demons out of their veins, survive the pain and make their blood spurt like a Pollock are truly masters of art.
When I think, I elaborate and come up with speeches and I think about the best way to throw down a few lines, I imagine a man in the same situation as me, it makes me externalize the pain, the simple painful blood in my veins – it also makes me think that the computer works by converting my platelets into electricity – I think of people who speak, like an Antonin Artaud, who freaks out on the radio and says what he wants, a Filippo Tommaso Marinetti who, artistically, has created his own way of expressing himself freely. And I miss this: to express myself freely, without constraints of any kind. Even screaming.
I became interested in la Noise – also known as rumorism – when I became interested in music in a broader sense. I thought at the time: I don’t think there is anything more experimental and listenable than this or that contemporary artist – how wrong I was. It did exist, and when a friend of mine played me a performance by Merzbow – known for his broad walls of noise and high notes by the simple folk, who associate him with something bizarre as an end in itself (a bit like their lives, bizarre and an ending in itself) – I was stunned.
Whenever I find myself talking about la Noise – I call it in the feminine, like a madre – I always think of that fortuitous event: my house, COVID-19 quarantine and the mattress under the TV set. I was listening to Merzbow, a performance at the Boiler Room – which I’m still listening to as I write – the sounds are high–pitched, the brain doesn’t like them at first, then you get used to the first drone – a repeated background note, also characteristic of Eastern sacred music, whether Christian or not – then you get used to the minimal high repeated sound, then you get used to it and there you are: you’refine, it’s all controlled. It sounds as if you are being hunted by something, but you can control this danger, you know you can kill it whenever you want by clicking the pause button. And immediately afterwards the minimal surprises you with a new sound.
This round goes on for a few tens of seconds, or minutes, or hours, arriving at a state akin to a mystical experience, where your body and your ears are distinct but related. They are two organs, complex yes, but they work together, one (the ears) giving you proof of strength, hardening in a continuous violence given by laNoise, the other (the body) keeps the ears alive. Then, as soon as you’re used to la Noise, the brain takes over – for goodness sake, it takes time, it must be that I live above a factory so it’s a noise I’m used to.
The brain is the one who will guide you, or rather: show you various bodily and organic ways to follow. Since there are no words – apart from in some tracks with a featuring such as Merzbow and Boris or Jun Togawa and Hijokaidan, it is still an alien language to an Italian as it is Japanese – most of it is all your own mentalbaggage, so what being subjected to the noise – injected, that is, with the ability to control it – makes you feel and imagine. It is an experience on a par with prayer.
Once you get used to it, you are free to travel – and focus on the journey – because laNoise envelops you and you feel, above all, a longed–for peace, hence alsothe apt parallelism with eastern sacred music – it is no coincidence that Merzbow recorded tracks called Mantras on the album Merzbuddha. So comes the doubt, justified by my faith: is this prayer?
In the usually nihilistic and very materialisticWest – one notes that this music in the West (partly in the East) is mostly made with a material and progressive undertone, as if to imply that all experimental art is necessarily an invective against this or that fascist/totalitarian regime – one does not fully understand this spiritual sound in noise.
Yet it was all born one fine Giolittian-era day, in Italy, from the mind of LuigiRussolo. Futurist of the first hour, musician and inventor – at the time there was little distinction between experimental musician and inventor, especially since everything that was to be experimented with had to be created materially, with inventions like the Intonarumori.
At the time it was the second–third Industrial Revolution, but also the very first time that the city woke up, lived and over–lived in noise, in the industrial echo and in its own awakening, Russolo’sopera omnia,Il Risveglio della Città, 1913, was born.
Basically, seen in a technical term of our time, it was a simple re–enactment of a field recording – an activity where you record sounds, artificial and not, in the open air. Everything was in tune with its invention, but after Italianfuturism, it would be decades before this noise experience returned.
Going beyond this historical parenthesis–obviously written to better define the artisanal environment in which we find ourselves, as well as to divulge that all too often forgotten history –we return to the experience of la Noise: mysticism.
When I speak of pure mysticism, I am not limiting myself to defining rumorism as only and simple music, not even religion, because it does not present dogma – apart from the only one, that is, knowing how to listen to the dynamics of one’s own soul when it is subject to experience – but not even superstition – because all of this is incredibly lived, and presents nothing so–called paranormal, and, taking up the dogma, presents nothing but the same dynamism in relation to experience.
It is all a heavyexperience – putting the aside on the very democratic word that it is experience, something that can be experienced by all, but also on the egotistical word, as it is not at all shareable (at least not within the very limits of spoken/written language) and above all it is unique – it is yours and yours alone.
Quoting KitaroNishida, Japanese Buddhist philosopher:
To experience means to know the facts as they are, to know in accordance with the facts by completely renouncing one’s own inventions… by pure I refer to the state of experience as it is, without the slightest addition of deliberative discrimination.
When I think of an actual pure experience, I think back to when I lay down under the television, with the mattress I had imported from my room, with a pillow under
my left arm while with my right arm I waswriting, mostly writing down poemsabout noise.
At that moment I remember I was inan altered state, but no narcotic – perhaps just a realization mixed with psychosis. I was rested, but within me brooded a great destruction and weariness, which I had to keep inside, tightening my mouth, and rationing with an eyedropper how much blood to let out on the paper, lest I overdo it and let out demons that would upset the experience.
Because at that moment, that precise moment – amidst noise and a comfortable bed – I was living the present and experiencing it, dynamic and absolutely my own.
I now quote an Italianoccultist, reported in the Introduction to Magic, by Julius Evola and the UR Group, the author writes under the name of PietroNegri:
It was the complete reversal of ordinary human sensation; not only did the ego no longer have the impression of being contained, however localised, in the body; not only had it acquired the perception of the incorporeality of its own body, but it felt its own body within itself, it felt everything sub specie interioritatis
I quote this to connect with the word: transcendence.
“The problem with right-wing art is that it’s explicitly political art made by people who are not right-wing when what we actually need is apolitical art made by people who are openly right-wing extremists.” — Anon
The above mentioned quote is why I believe our art has been lacking. Its not composition which has us lacking (we have many superior artists of every kind). What we don’t have is taste. Whether we are hamstrung by making everything about Swastikas/Third Reich/Mussolini etc. OR we can not express our growing sense of Vitalism because it is considered “impious” or “degenerate” by spiritually old-hags. I made this channel https://t.me/RoninoftheNight because I believe we are capable of so much beyond posting about a very specific time period or vibe. What we BRING to the UNIVERSE is élan vitale. Imagine if Celine was told not to write about prostitutes and gangsters because it was “degenerate”. Or Mishima to unveil the mystery of the sexual pervert (in confessions of a mask) because it delved into something “naughty”. Or any number of great artists who would have been snuffed out by a gross old woman spirit? Or worse, we are being held back because we can’t let go of imagery from our past. Especially because it is trying to live someone else’s glory. It is right to honor our ancestors, but we may only honor them if we surpass them! And we have that potential in us. Our content should be about VITAL LIFE that is apolitical. The way we perceive and accentuated our content makes us who we are. Art is a woman, and every woman wants to be seduced. Every seduction is suggestive/between-the-lines and not outright. No woman will ever give it to you by just saying, “hey, wanna fuck?” No. Be implicit, be beautiful, be tactful, and tease!