regard for the Gothic.

The Gothic has become a bit of punchline for the macroculture, for a seemingly false posture, a misanthrope, a social oddity, for someone who has gone "wrong". The macroculture however labels something once and never really bothers to examine it, to get past its appearance because it can't really be troubled to accept something so profound that might upset its limited ideas of what's true. 

And the truth really is that the Gothic is at the deep black heart of the world. 

Mythologies tend to begin with Darkness before the creation of the earth & sky, man & beasts. Even before the gods appear to cast first light, or land & sea marry, there is Night, primordial & chthonic -- it's integral, the canvas against which all is painted, and what's left in those same mythologies after the turpentine of time washes all that creation away in fire & flood, bangs or whimpers. Darkness is the permanent in a universe of impermanence. 

Goths recognize this: That besides being made of stars, we are also just as much, if not more, made of shadow, the spaces between the matter where the invisible desires of gravity and attraction hold everything together. The unconscious recognition of this force is something far beyond the misperceived need to be different, or to belong to a clique, or the compulsion to dance to majestic memento mori music. 

And so often we're asked by both the disrespectful & the sincerely curious just what is the Gothic, and all too frequently I've watched an equal exchange of the dismissive and sarcastic -- and that's sad, because it makes us no better than the intolerant. If we wish to be understood and not just culturally scapegoated by the media and those who don't question its pronouncements, then it would pay to be ready for when the braver passersby do stop and directly voice their wonder at the insight we represent. 

Why care what the rank & file think? Because there can be consequences if we don't. How many times do you see the flicker of Columbine behind the hateful eyes of others? And of course we know those little trenchcoated prats who stroked off to endless games of "Doom" & dog-eared copies of "Mein Kampf" were never Gothic, but damned if the major networks didn't decide to label them from day one as such. Ignorant bastards and their lazy journalism married to the now orthodox pop psych trend of blaming everyone but the individuals responsible. 

While the scene is thought of being predominantly gangly Caucasian teens who feel socially disenfranchised by the norms, this is just the holdover from the sun deprived & undernourished Anglais of an early 1980s London. That stereotype no longer holds, if it ever was an ideal more than a default. Now you go to Goth clubs like Roderick's Chamber in San Francisco, with its sinewy black men & mysterious Asian women, or Toronto's Sanctuary and see violet-eyed Hindu girls doing the kick-and-turn in big numbers, and it confirms that it truly is not so, and that our tribe's beauty & variants cut across all veins. 

Having endured for so long to carve out our hard-won legitimacy, we certainly don't owe anyone apologies nor are we to be held accountable for explanations about whom we choose to be in our grand excess of eyeliner & blackened fingernails, but we can grace the world with a winning diplomacy & patience we're more than intellectually capable of. 

Ultimately, with all the specialized niche media and marketing, there's enough room in this house of alternate ideas for all the subcultures to thrive, while being given the mental real estate to adorn themselves more richly as they grow -- if they are able to evolve as judiciously as the Gothic has. I've just never agreed with anyone that mistakenly thinks we have to be nasty about it when someone wants to take a look over the fence and try to see or understand what's happening in our garden. They may even taste its dark fruit and decide they like it far better. And even with such new blood we will never be the macroculture -- thankfully -- but we will always be present, the shadow between the buildings where the light never reaches, a perfect pitch inside the heart's secret conservatory, the eternal stillness that compliments the pulse, for we really are no less than the undeniable dark at the heart of the world.

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While a mostly happy bookstore fixture for over two decades, Guillermo Maytorena IV is currently willing to entertain your serious proposals for employment as a literary/cinema critic, goth journalist, castellan, airship pilot/crewperson, investigative mythologist, or assisting in a craft brewery. Should you be connected to any of the above or equally interesting endeavours, do contact him via LinkedIn or G+.