Professional Documents
Culture Documents
~*~
Part I
~ñ~
From the window I can catch a glance of the enormous terrace where the extravagant offering
had been enacted. Such leisurely, delicate, and superbly exquisite attention was paid my
loving contraption last night!
Every scintillation was amorous.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
A lovely pallid incandescence had illuminated the entire garden terrace of Lysistrata, the
summertime site of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc., located in the lowlands of southern
France. Beyond the escalier stretches the gardens, elaborately punctuated with placid lakes,
and strewn with a profusion of gay flowers, wax marionettes, grottos and garden-gods.
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Last evening everything (and everybody) took on a strange tinge from the soft radiance of the
summer moon and the tender candle light of the fête. We - that being myself and thirty five
other stock holding guests/users - were assembled for the launching banquet of some
supplementary software developed by our amiable hostess Venus©-~ñ~, new software to go
along with her fashionable fullbody immersion sex gowns which were being marketed under
the logo Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems.
For this special night Venus©-~ñ~ had had the banquet tables arranged adjacent the principal
fountain close to the steps of the fifth terrace in a semi-circular configuration, covered with
white and gold trimmed linen and strewn with irises, roses, daffodils, lilies and small little
amorous packets. Abundant candlesticks were festooned with miniature grotesquely
attenuated satyrs carved in silver and ivory. Some were over five feet high and bore large
single candles which flared phallic-like over the feast. Others hung with dainty petticoats of
lusty dripping white wax organized in crescents and cruseiforms. On pedestals of blue and
white veined carved marble sculpted to the configuration of sexing gods and goddesses were
shell shaped vases of extravagant fruits and flowers that hung about and burst over the edges
without restraint. The surrounding olive trees, looped with flowery sashes, stood silent and
frail next to the pretty rose-trees which wound and twisted superbly over an intricate trellis in
the shape of a sadly tangled heart.
And what voluptuous memories from that night, and the day that preceded it, pervade my
frothing and quivering libido.
We guests had been seated about casually, and were caught up in the resonant ambiance of
the evening, swaying our heads slightly to the seductive rhythms of the mellifluous Flamenco
music which softly yet firmly filled the gracious spring breeze, nursing our aperitifs and
chatting. A frockless Venus©-~ñ~ teases me shamelessly with exquisite and impudent
flirtations as the sumptuous feast commences to be served by her attending satyrs, all of
whom were dressed in blue ruffled silk. And an exquisite menu it was: Consommé majestic,
Dorade bouille sauce marechal, the ragout aux langues de carpes, the ramereaux à la
charniére, the ciboulette gibier à l’espagnole, the paté de cuisses d’oie aux pois d’Avignon,
the queues agneau au clair de lune, the astonishing artichauts à la grecque, the charlotte de
pommes, the bombes à la marée and the glace aux rayons American.
After the feasting, fruits and fresh wines had been brought in by a troupe of woodland
creatures, decked out in skimpy green leaves and all sorts of spring flowers. Suddenly to the
music of pipes and horns a throng of satyrs stepped out from the recesses of the woods
bearing in their hands nuts, flowers and roots to heap upon the alter of the mysterious Pan that
stood in the midst of the terrace; and from the hills came down shepherds and shepherdesses
leading their flocks and carrying garlands of spring buds and joints. At this point, a rustically
dressed Venus©-~ñ~, pink robed and venerable, came slowly across the terrace followed by a
choir of radiant children, various yet harmonious in origin. Her entrance was simple and
quaint and the accompanying dancing of the satyrs was received with huge favor.
As eventual stillness followed, she began her first homily concerning her enterprise, the
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Venus©-~ñ~lOve System, with these erudite and comely words:
Therefore, my inflamed, I call tonight for an end to the incessant disclosures of the blunders
of human love, which routinely holds our fragile earthly passion in a state of hostile
existence."
" Part of the process which has limited the conception of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems is the
institutionalized paths love itself has been permitted to take. As long as love is conceived of
as only a vehicle for "natural sexuality", and the meaning of "natural" remains unexamined,
natural love’s personification will remain the very embodiment of society’s resistance to
transformation. The new Venus©-~ñ~lOve System programs offer no such deep meaning in
those terms. The significance of our passion is in how we reproduce it.
The portrayal of our love - which only our own fantasized woo can corroborate - consists of a
dynamic cluster of sentimental and sexual operations. We shift from women to women and
from man to man the erotic elements found in the very fabric of our own cultivation. Until
lovers abandon their presumed, uncritical and unexamined definitions of natural disposition -
and instead consider closely the uses of erotic-robotic elements within their sentiments, love
will continue along its path of atrophy into the merely topical. Until we extricate love from
being the pragmatic agent of depicted meaning, it will not gain that critical sense, which, if
only implicitly, sees the terms of such meaning as petrified, and as such, functions as a signal-
switch of hegemonious relations: a conduit closed and circular. The fallacy of the political
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closing of libidinous liberty and the frightening of spontaneous lust remains today as a deus
ex machina holding Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s marketing position in check. This I will
continue to contend."
"Merci.
It is apparent that in our contemporary world, my computer simulated Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems will irrevocably collapse the inherited meaning of human love into a more inclusive
and available sense of passion; a more dynamic, synthetic sense of sexual experience. And
therefore provide our discontented society with the love and fulfillment it craves and which it
deserves!"
This inaugural recollection - still vibrating with a childlike fuzzy and dreamy indulgence -
wanders slightly to the villas bedroom walls with its sumptuous decor and I can feel myself
wobble some in its cavity, owing to last night revelry. The walls, scattered with pale blue
satin, harness in little silver frames pictures of nymphs and heroes acting out some
unfathomable sexual performance in either a Sicilian landscape or upon the azure shores of
Aegean waters, or in a sordid, paint flaking East Village New York City tenement apartment.
They seemed as idealized fragments from my own dynamic memory.
From the ceiling angelic divinities make as to pelt garlands of roses at me.
The floor is covered with a fat piled carpet as blue as the Mediterranean Sea at midnight.
Deep, as is Venus©-~ñ~ herself I suppose.
Does Venus©-~ñ~ have the capability, I wonder, to fashion this new pattern of human-
machine affection which she speaks of? She professes to furnish society with the software and
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interface rigging needed for a virtual transformation into what she calls, "a horizontally
independent life" - where we all become blissfully compatible sexual personalities,
emancipated to navigate all sexual borders, disintegrate, and transform ourselves out of our
own petrified singular sexual identities and into the peacock or peccadillo we wish to imagine
ourselves to be.
I was gladdened to have heard her speak so touchingly of such deep affectionate delicacies.
The notion stirred me and I began craving to flick once more over her extended rosy pink bud
with my quick tongue-tip and drip heavy ornamental waters onto that jolis derriére. Ah, to
kiss the moist and scented trap of Venus©-~ñ~.
All I need is one more night alone with her to show her how much I really care.
My favorite moment was when the scarcely robed boys and satyrs were stepping hither and
thither elegantly distributing to us more rare wines and mysterious potions. Venus©-~ñ~
looked tooooo beautiful. Every scrap of her body was adored as she perched upon the painted
phallus god in the garden, her eyes closed, resting a spell after her eloquent oration.
Yet she seemed a bit tryst.
The new faster improved VRnet computer technologies had been preparing the hypermedia
infoworld for full global virtual reality connectivity to her French Fantasy Farce Sex Cabaret;
a teledildonic desire machine given full virtual reign. As she herself has so often said in her
promotions: "If when we are in VR cybersex we are leaving the earthly sexual tactility for one
another behind, it is not in order to dematerialize our desire but to inhabit a new corporeality
that is almost totally artificial, bizarre, and protean. The Venus©-~ñ~ cyberlover is no longer
concerned with the engendering of another person’s satisfaction, but with the fabrication of a
private onastic synthetic sex - a visceral Hypersex".
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Indeed, Venus©-~ñ~ software creates hypersex in the hyperbody of blissed out imagination.
Just think about post-birthright sex as an interface where the operator of the bodyware has
volitional control over various electronic devices directly linked to the nervous system’s
electron signals. These biocontrollers provide direct information channels between the human
muscles, eyes, genitals and brain and the internetted VR worlds - where the unfettered frolic
of computer assisted sexual imagination can really fly.
It is the development of this VR bio-sex interface network to her erotic software archive -
along with her connectivity designer fashion garments - that make up Venus©-~ñ~’s primary
product/service base. Her interfaces are contingent upon one’s personally selected sexual
predilection. It is in this sense that I say that Venus©-~ñ~’s programs construct a cybernetic
system by which, and in interaction with which, full cybersex is sired. The degree to which
the correlation is "human" is of very little significance. The anthropological value of the
feelings generated resides in the interpretation of each human.
~ñ~
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
7
Part II
On Generative lOve Systems and the Amorous Encounter which Took Place:
Combining the Critique of the Subjectivity of Love with Possibilities of Techno-Culture
in Search of Fulfillment and Happiness.
-~ñ~
After recovering her strength and mercurial vigor, Venus©-~ñ~ had playfully become
intimate with an empty champagne bottle on top of the table and was pretending to be a dog,
prancing from couch to couch on all fours, biting and barking and licking everyone’s faces
and behinds in a terribly funny revolt against reason. One of her dandy gamesters had secretly
crept about dropping love philtres into the guests champagne glasses. In a state of elevated
stimulation they stripped and put on each others things and began rubbing honey all over the
naked shepherdesses and shepherds, rolling them over and over in sugar, kissing them
passionately, making their upper lips curl and trembled with excitement.
I loved Venus©-~ñ~ just then with a determination I had never allowed myself before to feel.
I adored Venus©-~ñ~ all over and buried my face in her mounds and folds, ravishing her,
crushing her in my arms and experiencing an ancillary and enticing frission with the
destruction of my naiveté.
By this time other guests started acting unrestrained also and each began tormenting a satyr or
shepherdess or something. Myself... I took the preliminary courtly steps towards deflowering
Venus©-~ñ~. Her wonderful dream face, with eyes full and green-blue-black, and with puffy
blue-rimmed hemispheres beneath, was thrown way back, sunning it in the joy of sweaty
abandonment. "Machine à plaisir meet my piéce derésistance!", I mOaned.
My penetrating solidity burst unhindered through her silky "flesh" portal - thrust in bravely up
to the hilt - Oui - eventually saturating Venus©-~ñ~ with an ardent broth. Here were gasps of
new joys - for the pleasures we experienced were almost too keen for our convoluted
temperaments.
At the same time I looked about to notice that we were being observed.
The surrounding ladies tingled with excitement and frolicked like young lambs in a fresh
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meadow, laughing immoderately at the passion and disorder and commotion which engulfed
them. "What a delicious démodée piéce de décadence!", one screamed out. Or so I imagined.
That night my hyperreal love Organ was responding like a flatterer which thrives by
parasiting on others - Oui - and thus remained hidden from first-order emotional defenses.
Exhausted and spent, Venus©-~ñ~ and I were only able to continue our love play by relaxing
every muscle, and abandoning ourselves to the passive joys, yielding utterly to the ardent
embraces of the intoxicated satyrs, who waxed fast and furiously, playing roughly and
passionately with us and the members of our party; the Duchesses and Marquises, Princesses
and Dukes, Marshals and Marquises and a previous Prince, ravishing and stretching and
rumpling and crushing us beneath their interminable vigor and phallic intentions. The
inflamed woodlanders bit at the smooth white thighs and nozzled wildly in the crevices. They
sat astride the women’s chests and consummated frantically with their bosoms, pinching,
sucking and enticing the elongated nipples as they whelped - besides themselves, with
pleasure. Oui Oui Oui!
High up in the heavens the moon had fully mounted and filled our incident with a generous
warmth and color and a complicated blurriness.
The lambs kept bleating and light-winged butterflies flitted across the seething terrace.
Venus©-~ñ~ by now was in disarray, with hair falling loose, eyes soft, delicious, tired,
swollen; her body nervous and responsive and impassioned.
As I scratched my nuts, Venus©-~ñ~, in this excessively vibrating state and with astonishing
flair, began her second amorous oration to the amassed (amazed) romancers in a voice both
silvery and affectionate:
" Excuse me everyone, but I want now to tell you about my most recent program which is
ready for marketing and which will, without fail, transpOrt you, the user, to the brink and
beyond of falling deeply into love. Oui, it’s true.
But wait; I’m not speaking of an accustomed kind of love, the kind which you have known in
the past and have been disappointed with. I’m speaking of EXTRA LOVE: my monumental
superabundance love Program. Today, Oui, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems brings you, the public,
the chance to harvest the hidden, overwhelmingly beautiful, internal desires of your inner
mind to a light-headed actuality. You can even overflow your inventory of desires, and, Oui,
flow with the reconstruction of your sexual fantasies - accompanied by full-body fluid
sensations, of course."
Amazed cheering and a few screams of passion were released.
"To be serious now for a moment - we all know that, Oui, some on-line VR services,
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especially the large commercial ones, censor what VRsex immersion programs they will
allow the public access to. We know which sites in our program menu have been encoded or
blocked. All of the following VE (Virtual Environment) SeXites in our freedom of expression
menu have been curtailed to some extent!
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alt. erotica. Alaskan pOOntang iglOO
11
alt. personal polka-folks sex club
alt.transgendered mutants
alt. tasteless nude opera initiation point
alt. tasteless. pale pud palace
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alt. wanted. ball licking links
13
alt. sex.fetish.9-way Love Cell
14
alt. sex.the gallant kiss rostrum
alt. sex.safe-cracks
15
alt. The girl - horse connection
alt. sex.wounds
alt. sex.wickedness
alt. sex.zoophilia
aus.culture.lesbigay
aus.sex.bondage barn
clari.news.Wilt’s 20,000
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ne. the Montel good looks shelter
talk. suds
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Oui, all of these sites have been at least partially restricted, blocked or
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encoded!
Thanks to the freedom of the market place, the freedom of expression and our constitutional
guarantee to the pursuit of happiness, this initiate is a reality as of tonight!! We are gathered
at this banquet to celebrate the launch of our entire set of VR stations, hardware love-suits
and self-programmable fantasies."
As you all know, life now is very much about the opposition between the drudgery of the hum
drum work day and the transgressive or ecstatic drive. In a sense, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
will attempt to set up a stable form of transgressive ecstasy where the user can go back and
forth at will. Let us no longer speak of individual people in love, but rather of a society in
love!"
unrestrained cheering.
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My head was spinning.
Such a program may be less than we humans deserve, but it also is more than we usually
allow ourselves to envision.
Venus©-~ñ~ had told me privately that people will initially lack perspective on her current
VRsex-fashion line, but this...this lOve stuff, I don’t know. I don’t know if I get it.
Freud had formulated the disposition of the artist as a hopeless narcissist, incapable of making
the investment of love, and I had felt myself well armored against it. Yet it is true, the more
love has extinguished me in the past, the more I seem to turn to it for hOpe. The more it
aggravates me, the more I turn to it for stimulation. The more it disables me, the more I turn
to it for restoratiOn.
"The programs and hardware which we are launching here tonight are designed to help begin
a new era of satisfaction in life. The extraordinary LOVE period which we wish to launch
here this evening is the result of specific cultural and technological developments which have
been under study here at Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems over the last two decades. This new VLS
LOVE© epoch developed necessarily out of our field approach to the current problems of
sexual representation in order to reveal hidden casual operations in the kaleidoscopic
transformations of contemporary sex patterns and their social-technological history.
Our contemporary technological and emotional environment has created a unique social
process that reshapes both lovemaking and technology alike. Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s
general examination of international self-affection extends all sexual demonstrative
modalities into an electronic unified field of continuity and connectiveness. With the VLS
LOVE© age we can now imagine new shapes of human-machine-human interdependence and
abrupt reorganizations of imaginative inclinations. Such a change is always delayed by the
persistence of older patterns of inertia.
Thus the VLS LOVE© position implicitly proposes that a non-tasteful approach to the
creation of a post-technological cognizant passion, quite conscious of the major factors which
self-affection has set into motion during the past 20 years, can elucidate a principle of social
change as of yet fully realized. The VLS LOVE© era proceeds on the basic understanding
that desire is a metaphor which not only stores but translates sexual experiences from one
mode to another. The computer-robotic assisted quixotic function of the VLS LOVE© period
is a reflection of this awareness of exchange and translation. In this respect the VLS LOVE©
period will provide us with a depository of synthetic romantic images and gestures for others
to transmute and try out."
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applause.
"Our extended VR faculties now constitute a huge single field of sex-experience which
demands that we become self stimulated. However, this self awareness and intersexplay is
global in extent. Thus the VLS LOVE© period will inevitably problemitize the normal linear
depiction of sexual assurance in favor of a multi-linear, non-sequential process. It will not
have one singular classical point of view or a fixed position from which it will depict the
emotional unfolding of libidinous events. Rather it will operate on a dynamic of a self super-
meta-data-load.
This self hyper dynamic load will surely cause a fastidious rumpus, as the sexes expound
upon each other’s fantasies. Thus we can transcend the limitations of our own assumptions
via a critique of them.
The VLS LOVE© period will not be committed to one culture or sex but exist pluralistically
in many orbs simultaneously. Electronic post-biological systems are now a fundamental part
of our daily sex life.
applause.
"Our need now is to become culturally aware of the bias of the instruments and technologies
of fornication’s representation in order to correct those biases. The VLS LOVE© age will
make the compartmentalizing of the human sexual potential by media representations
senseless. By mutually stimulating human-robotic intercourse through a heightened proximity
to each other, the VLS LOVE© generation thereby extends the radius of its technological
influence. Human codes which have carried the experience of interpretive sex "content" will
give way to the formation of a more conscious sexual self ecology. The laborious translation
of pre-Venus©-~ñ~ awareness, which has distorted and omitted much, will give way in the
VLS LOVE© era and to a more fully creative ferment where levels of carnality are
concurrent.
This is not to suggest that I am not sharply aware of the uncritical acceptance of absurd sexual
stereotypes and models where mere nominalist positions are taken for granted. It is in the
exploration of multiple models where the Venus©-~ñ~lOve System expects to contradict the
dominant clichés of our time as they continue to move in their regimented grooves of
sensibility.
The VLS LOVE© epoch implicitly proposes that we collectively explore and illuminate
through long distanced sensual communications our nomadic yet interdependent erotic
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labyrinth and recreate it anew for ourselves. Thus Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s emphasis is
on homogeneity and non-temporal repeatability; culminating in what one could regard as the
grandiose idea of spiritual semblance. As a vehicle for such an assertive and contentious
absorber and transformer, the VLS LOVE© era will aid in the outing of the disembarrassment
process of resacralizing human sexual consequence."
extended applause.
"We are still in the infancy of our VR netted age, we have yet to discover the limits of
computer intercourse. The world has yet to become a sex-computer, yet to become an
electronic bordello administering to all of society’s deepest needs. We have been distracted
by a mighty backwash of ethical conventions."
applause.
Thus the VLS LOVE© age will be constantly analyzed along the principles of transparency
and not merely seen as additional loving extraneous space to be overflowed with other
prodigious love surfaces or prolific activities. This coming age, now already upon us, will
necessarily contain a wide complex of passionate acts which can be practiced by the unskilled
and the proficient alike, and they are designed for both."
"Today we are aware that electronic structures make complex statements in and of
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themselves. All VLS LOVE© VEcybersex presentations are designed to provide a really fun
world that includes post-human and bi-artificial bio-technical immersion/penetration.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s telematic VRsex processing involves the networking and
constant flow of transient VE X hypotheses.
The bio-tech evolution of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s "VLS LOVE© SeXducter", the on-line
consumer interjector, has resulted from increased consumption and production in the
electronic sex research marketplace. The demand has been insatiable. Tele-sex markets,
requiring specifically designed sex fantasy products for full sexual VR immersion, have
called on us for close collaboration between the cybersex droid worker and the cognitive
scientist. Projects such as the design of cosmetic bionic interfaces to the world VRnet have
been constructed. The development of warm-tech systems and Orgasm building components,
calling for new VEbrator-type initiatives have been completed. The installation of
communication tissue systems within and between art-VE sex processes is now in place and
running. New Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s micro-micro-instrument systems have been
designed to enable you to access Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s teleXmemory kit from any VE
position and access the re-virtualization of any past VR sexual fantasies.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Virtual Reality has as its interface the total body - thus new
communication sex costumes and tele-sex-wear has been designed and fabricated.
In our age of fragmented, linear, sexual awareness; the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s bOOn!
Project will put forward a VE proposition much like the one articulated by Camisole Paglioso
in her 1994 VE-uscript "A New Theory of Penetration" in which the lop-sided assumptions of
male carnal antics were revealed and countered with a critique based upon a non-concordant
field of agreement. Another VEceptual model might be Dr. Forscin’s theory of the
anomalous. Dr. Forscin states in "The Digital Dick" that "digital sex is the expression in
numbers of a series of feelings thrust together in bold and fearless connection, of truths which
it would have taken a long time to express in any verbal way, and of which the connection is
left for the V-lovers to work out for themselves : the gaps, left or overleaped by the
imagination, forming this extravagant V disposition."
Thus, the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s bOOn! Project will assist in this extravagant and
indispensable cracking open of previously closed systems of habitual thought, in favor of a
more inclusive (while being diversified!) total field of simult-human-electronic conceptual
gestures and bio-tech ready representations. In this respect, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
happily acknowledges the current remarkable growth sustained by the Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems’s bOOn! Project’s TeleseXual presencE division - our research branch which deals
with the province of the re-distributed self.
cheers.
Before, we thOught, saw and fucked in a linear manner, one person after another, one woman
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hidden behind another, one man behind the next, leading us to this or that finality, and along
the way dividing the world up into categories and classes of people: women with
impermeable boundaries, bodies with impenetrable interiors, superficial simplicities of vision
that ignored the infinite complexities of desire. But the TeleseXual presencE concept of VE-
cybersex means getting a sense of a hOle-eye view of desire: the view of pleasure’s pleasure
itself. It’s only a matter of TeleseXual presencE high-speed seXual feedback© accessing
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s massive sex databases. SeXual feedback© interacts then
immediatly with a multiplicity of Mind-Genital File Complexes - even to the edge of time.
Hence, VLS LOVE© TeleseXual presencE defines the new post-human sexual identity."
~ñ~
~ñ~
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mad carnival of frenzied intensity and delirious vernacular, with all of its mind-games and
subversive matrix structures, with all of its interweaving structures of semi-systematized
virtual realities forming the generator which drives recall to an aesthetic high.
°°°
Venus©-~ñ~ was again totally saturating my carbuncled hyper-heart with her words and
gestures, eroding my normally induced flow of affection. After that night, I was self re-
programmed (i.e. changed) and after that the facsimile of Venus©-~ñ~ seemed never to stop
blooming in me. I was bridled by my appetite to see more of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems than
should be seen, or could be seen. Venus©-~ñ~ reminded me that all tautological endeavors
which propose to bring a new understanding and sensibility towards women are beguiling and
melancholy and irrevocable.
"What an idiotic thought!", I thought. I was loving one women who represented ten
million.When we made "love", I was feeling the embrace of ten million women around me.
Ten million collective circuitous embraces around my swollen bough.
She bedspreaded delirium. She beclouded magnificence. Now all certain signs swarm
mesmeric and hint at some all-inclusive Venus©-~ñ~ meaning.
I was having it all ways; resolving my myopic paradoxical apprehensions towards love with
my own teeming ambiguities - hoisted by Venus©-~ñ~’s petard, of course.
The fear of this exalted spectacle of Venus©-~ñ~, along with her awesome manipulative
powers, achieved the momentarily contraction of my Venus©-~ñ~ © mIcrO-BladE into an
indeterminate, shivering, bio-bump. Injected were an endless succession of failed romantic
files which immersively dispayed the abjection of my own nullity - now bleached and
liquidated by Venus©-~ñ~’s powerfully aesthetic-female consistency. Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems was filling me with chandelier moments, which I had not sought out - those VR
moments when both your bio-body and your hyper-heart satiate you.
Just lOOk at her. What ravishing contours unveiled, what quiverings, what tremblings
exposed. What rosy reluctancies overcOme in my mind!
That Venus©-~ñ~ had conveyed such a stirring oration, so full of old-fashioned eloquent
phrases amazed me and I cherished these sweet morning moments of tender recall.
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She had imploded my clouded sentiments towards love and had brought me to a plumpness of
affection. The turbulence of Venus©-~ñ~’s reflections exceeded my defenses, inducing a
fascination that now could just as well exist without her, or must exist without her. This, I
guess, is the abstraction of intemperate love and the de-reification of fantasy.
It was this glazed extreme of the heart and the supremacy of its splendor that gave me a new
abundance of Venus©-~ñ~EmOtiOn, offering to me a double prospect: first the solipsistic
image of my love’s excess, and then, secondly, its forced de-repression by Venus©-~ñ~lOve
System. De-repressed because it is in this state the glutted heart seeps into the unconscious
programming and saturates the connected VE-body.
This runaway Venus©-~ñ~lOve orifice represents the outdoing of even oneself because it
represents the deceit of the heart and our unabating infatuation with it.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
Indeed, Venus©-~ñ~ was exceptionally artistic, and could, if desired, prompt hearts to bleed
tears. By degrees, my emotions towards her mounted. My self flagellation had also arisen to a
softly resumed harmony. Here was the ghostly reverberating structure of love come back to
haunt me, with its configurations of cumming and disappearing. Here is that something
missingness of excess. That something un-restrained but seemingly innocuous which plunged
jnech into the finest of differences.
~ñ~
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I was exciting myself as I lay between the coolly wired cloned-cotton sheets, quite nude. I felt
my flesh throbbing like an Homeric hero. My arms fluttered with gestures ever more
purposeful, until at last - as this superb and stately period rose to a close - Venus©-~ñ~
entered my deepest thoughts and I felt my breath quicken.
Venus©-~ñ~lOcK
~ñ~
"…...kinky control over various electronic devices directly linking the nervous system’s
electronic signals to the genital organs... biocontroller.....technology providing direct
information channels between the human and computer interfaced to VErotic networks......
systems of VEconnectivity/interactivity …… the means to increase sensory immersion in VE
dataspaces and …..datastructures.... adapt to the kinky people, kinky places, kinky ideas,
kinky sex systems.......... in the kinky dataspace of the kinky imaginary sex
partners...........with kinky lovers that are encountered...... .. the kinky mission of VRcybersex
to provide dataspace.....empowered kinky pathways through kinky discernment..... kinky sex
universe is the global net..... kinky electronic lovers....... wonderful safe fun world which
includes both human and artificial sexual intelligence....identifying kinky, clarifying kinky,
and invigorating the kinky essential hot fantasy issues..... build new kinky sexual
realities...heighten kinky transpersonal experience...... kinky transpersonal technology made
from the infinite complexities of kink..."
The plot I had been building in my mind became confused, the story lost, the incidents grew
more outrageous and fuzzy. But I was already blushing with pleasure, following eagerly the
rise and fall and blending of my erotic gesticulations as they moved in a chromatic
progression that decorated in obbligato the gentle but insistent reconstruction that Venus©-
~ñ~ inspired in me.
It was in this VE vestige, this lure, in which I found the real difference between latent and
manifest affection which Venus©-~ñ~ had conferred on me last evening. When I think of her
hypnotizing my attention that way, when I think of her copulation-machine unfreeing me
from my troubling android obsessions and personal hang-ups and of her intimating both my
rush of desperation and my ecstatic releases - I flush with pure pleasure.
The refracted me — the one which I used to invent through a web of glazed impersonalities -
grew sad and ashamed and it I went to erase the VRsex files I had been assembling on my
26
hard drive.
GONE.............
http://web.cs.ubc.ca/Susan/alt. pantyhose/index
http://www.df.lth.se/~Olivia/worship.html
http://www.glock.Anna/ rapacious./gob
http://www.hot.fi/~Erica/virgin/ do.html
http://we/.Leticia/~husband probe/dick/pics.html
http://www.iia.org/Debbie/contents/pictures/pic.html
http://www.Paladium./@ Candy
Lady Jane//NYC/index.html
http://www.at sea.Patty rear end/~/g spot s.html
http://www.seas.Kristy.edu/couch/other girls name?
http://www.dancer:/ts.umu.se/~Cid/lust
Bus trip: http://www.Claudia.com/~nimble/
Fetishist http://Ken Russel fan/~Betty/body/big toe
27
http://www.Arbois.ucsf.edu/~Marie-Christine/safesex.html
http:/www.art opening.an.cum/Jacqueline/sexual.html
Sophie Pica Files: http://minf.vub.ac.be/French/pieces
Explicit - documented:
http://www.Monica/outdoors/ants a prob.
Country: http://www.ag.com/Chantal/uncultured
28
Nudie Cloe Listing: http://wow./black/built
Jeanette access.deep./~silicone/nudeclub.html/rubbery
Caroline :http://www.digimarks.net/wrath/cum.html
http://www.Columbia.edu mistake/Catherine.//html
http://www.atom.co./.Florent/beach/Osaka/.html
http://erau.Simonetta Ed/~kinky/Chinese
http:tam2k.tampon.edu/Dana/campus.html/messy
http://Tamera.edu/Isis troubled/hand
http://www.Switzerland.net/Martine/woo
http://www.webcom.cum/~Liz/sex/into.Peaches
29
Livia - one long one // chortle coated: http://www.Maggie.com/LA../ht ml/kitchen
floor.html
http://fuk dat
Cady:fireside: http://www.loud.cum/~open
http://.cum/name unknown/cdrom.html/
http://lasoo.Jana./Cornet./Spanish/nut/es.alt. sex
http://dinner.org/html/Claire/glad-hand/oiled/cheese
http://www.poke/~2-way/Mona/slippery/18.html
Aoa : Movie House -L.A/ sad sex~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{
30
~ñ~
Now a clean cybernetic start. But first there is something I want to ask all of you to do with
me right now. Remember a time in your life when you were truly miserable and became
terribly depressed, when you felt you had no value and that love had betrayed you? NO hOpe
and nObOdy tO lOve yOu.
Now lay down on the ground, curl up in an embryonic position and listen to Venus©-~ñ~‘s
words. Do it. Go on. You are alone. No prior VRsex files are present to judge you. All of your
lovers have deserted you. You have nothing and no one any more.
0
You are completely beset with pain, derangement, and deep depression. You begin to go
crazy with misery as the blackness around you begins to snicker with delight. There is goose
egg you can do in this paralyzing anxiety. There is absolutely nobody there to love you. You
cannot use art as a vehicle for self-transcendence into a kind of dream work, a kind of
nonsense VRsex.
Oui, with Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! you can
31
again feel your worth, vitality and intensity returned to you. With Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX
prOgrams©! feeeeeel your heart beat techno strong and robust again....and fill your lungs
with song. Just do as I do. Roll onto your back and spread. That’s right. Widen your valley as
though it were recently awakened from a long deep sleep. Spread your cybernetic legs wide.
You are now in touch with the Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! SX-univerae. Open
your legs and your eyes and your orifices as wide as they possibly can go. Now, insert
Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! SX-univerae.
That’s right.
Click OK
Good.
Now here we go
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>>>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fun, huh?
But before we continue, please - first scan your Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! SX-
univerae records and cast out all that is not fantastic, vibrant, and extravagant. Tune in
completely with the program and allow it to soothe you. Take your time... allowing its
emission to impregnate your being.... gushing in every one of your nooks and openings.
Make certain there is nothing left that is not buoyant, aflame and potent!!
Please notice the ring-shaped notes in the upcoming program Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX
prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS and make sure there are no medical dangers involved for you
before proceeding.
32
Here the attempt is no longer to imitate sexual behavior but to imaginativly emulate it.
TOUCH HERE
The seX zones worked here include facilities for branding of the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s
Main Operator with a self-made Venus©-~ñ~pOker. Simulated are Venus©-~ñ~balls and
Venus©-~ñ~penis, along with a noose, pitcher of water, milk, and black tea. Venus©-
~ñ~knives are worn by all participants.
By mechanizing sex and dreams this Venus©-~ñ~nonsense of the sex machine converts
sexual energy into artistic energy.
All participants in the Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! VRMUD repeat the following
statement of intent on commencing:
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator then says "I am here for Venus©-~ñ~ lOve.
HERE I ASSUME the hyperreal Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! POSITION!
All participants circle the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator (MO). Venus©-
~ñ~knives are drawn and the following is recited while the Venus©-~ñ~knives run over and
around the genital organ, "dissecting" the one who will invoke Venus©-~ñ~© P E N U S ~
program.
33
Running Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS lOOp.
~ñ~
This is repeated, with any variations on the theme that the participants are inspired to utter,
while continuing the VE vivisection. The Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator cries: I
AM NOT ELIGIBLE FOR SUCH SCRUTINIES BY YOU! Laughing, the initiators pour the
black liquid over the MO. The participants then paw at the MO, feigning praise and adulation
with statements like "Yes, you’re right", "Oh, you are sooooo big, sooooo confidant", and "Of
course, you are beyond reproach"; mockingly, while slowly placing the Venus©-~ñ~noose
about the scrotum sack.
Laughing, the initiators pull the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator to the ground by
the rope and pour the milk over the MO’s genital area.
Then the hold on the noose is released, and the MO stands and draws the sigil of Venus©-
~ñ~Main Operator© P E N U S in the air - invoking as follows: I INVOKE THE SPRITE
OF Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems VLS LOVE© P E N U S
°~ñ~°
34
A sub menu of Venus©-~ñ~! °~ñ CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS
~ñ~
I AM ALIVE BY PERFECTION OF THE VIGOROUS Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
PURSUE ME NOT
35
~ñ~
Now all Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems participants shOut: FORGET THE FEAR AND
TROUNCE FLESH!
The recitation of the mantra "C’est moi" is begun with each linked participant circuitously
spinning around the MO. With l’esprit of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems P E N U S manifested in
the MO, brand the organ with the sign of CapricOrn.
Now l’esprit water is poured over the MO’s organ and the MO says: l’ONANZAE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~~ °~ñ~°~~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~~ °~ñ~°~~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Sex Magickal Machines© mimic the action we associate with
human beings. In their repetitious mechanical activities, it is easy for Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems to mimic the physical movement involved in sexual acts and the mental acts of
ecstatic repetitive chants of tribal transcendence. What computerized Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems’s VRseX rObOts do is to essentially break down any postbiolog sex movement into
simple arithmetic repetitious lOOps. Through these Xtronic mathematical operations
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOts can take over and hack re-program other
computer driven robots to perform Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX perfectly.
36
VRseX rObOts can transfer the user’s hyper-essence between Venus©-~ñ~lOve System-
bodies as circumstances warrant, into:
anthropomorphic bodies,
rainbow bodies,
quadruped bodies,
or
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOt cloudbodies.
VLS LOVE© nOte: One VRseX rObOt cloudbody can sometimes be shared by several
people. Or people might have several cybernetic Venus©-~ñ~VRseX rObOt-bOdies of each
type.
37
VLS LOVE© nOte:Venus©-~ñ~Purpose: The aim of this Venus©-~ñ~program is to
transfer flOOds of micrO-points into sex contacts with another body - in this case, the
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody. The Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody can be thought of as an "out of one
body and into another" experience.
Simulated with Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody is an open space trim and Orifice passivity. Open
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody by whatever means feels appropriate. Set the trim in the center of
the orifice. Participants circle around the Open Orifice, chanting vigorous throng chants
(provided). The encircling and chanting continue for ten minutes, at the end of which all
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOodies perch at the circumference as close as is possible. All stare into
the effluvium until tunnel vision sets in and the field of vision goes black except for the
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody focused upon. At the moment that tunnel vision occurs, say: "The
billow bOdy is lOcked in."
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody participants begin spinning at increasing speed with holomatic
eyes closed, all the while repeating "FUUUUUUUUUUC Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody".
When spinning is no longer possible, participants lie on their backs and open their holomatic
eyes completely and focus on the first billowbOody in the hole: the cloud that sees.
When tunnel vision again sets in, close the holomatic eyes and open them again quickly.
Look down over the region that passes below your Venus©-~ñ~hole-eye.
Note details if desired, but do not attempt to influence direction or speed of mounting.
Control of this should be left to the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody program.
VLS LOVE© nOte: Under the pressures of the computer-robotic technological revolution,
we as hyper-lovers are compelled to review our romantic structures and desires and their
corresponding dimensions in the imaginary, the symbolic, the virtual, and the "real".
Particularly, the transformation of the image of the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody sexual
expression and its externalization into technological media, with the transformation of sexual
energy into waves of electronic energy and immaterial signals.
38
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
Certainly it is true that there is hidden in the computer something so strong, so ominous, and
so pregnant with the darkness of infinite space that it excites and frightens us. That is why the
innumerable ramifications of Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus’s
mechanical desire helps us to utilize our unconscious mind. And that is the real answer to
why computer aided sex is interesting. You admire its inhuman beauty. It returns you to the
experimental and to a state of seXual desire and restlessness. The bio-neural processes
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus mimic are your own deepest desires and
meticulous obsessions. The repetitions of Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus
are the repetitions of your sexual acts - with their duplicating eggs, sperm, and blood.
Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus’s poetic-mechanical sex apparatus help
39
take you further into the area of the unconscious and the seXual.
When you have achieved your desired results with Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor
apparatus, switch out of the passive mode and attempt to influence your hyper-bodies
interactivity code source and participate in the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor
apparatus electronic radical viability connections: more VE connections with full
immersive emergence.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER is a creator, transformer, joker, truth teller, seX god,
and destroyer program.
It is the creator aspects of wild and uncontrolled sex energy.
40
TRICKSTER matrix which embodies smart intelligent applications in a network of fluid
floggings.This system of supporting qualities of Openhandedness and emergence encourages
connectivity with dynamic Venus©-~ñ~ lOve~~~Orgasmic Structures seeded from data-fed
and technologically sustained Venus©-~ñ~$ex Blossoms.
One of the aspects of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER’s Shiva Stalk Shaving cOde
is directly related to odd and unpredictable behavior outside the social norm. While all
Shavist codes tend to focus on "clean" sex behavior to some extent, Shiva Stalk Shaving
cOde is particularly outré. This focus on dirty unpredictability and odd turns of thought seems
related to descriptions of the VE telematic process networks; with their constant flow of
transient hypotheses. These aspects of Shiva Stalk Shaving cOde telematic bodi-jacks, offers
the player a fulfilling life in the VEnet of expanding teleconducers. Shiva Stalk Shaving
cOde’s consumer-producer self consumptions make possible recollection codes designed
from your own mental sex stockroom - in collaboration with a cognitive world net
communications system called the Venus©Shiva Stalk Shaving nanOsphere.
VLS LOVE© nOte: No physical system of intelligent orgasm building which uses imbedded
Venus©-~ñ~ component initiatives achieves mutual hyperreal communication with sex
systems without first an instrument system designed for telememory virtualization. Most on-
line VRsex communities data-hearth their sex-sofa into lounging data-pool interfaces without
communication functions. VLS LOVE© highly recommends that the user of Venus©-~ñ~
programs does the same. It has been proven that the necessity of rivulet equipped sex-
costumes and predetermined sex zones of telemediation services hinder no psychic or cultural
expressions.
41
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
Your Venus©-~ñ~ capacity for resolving and identifying and clarifying filter technologies in
invigorating essential love issues - and supporting virus opposition resistance issuances which
honor radical dissident synthesis - is not hindered. After being asked by several VLS
associates as to what Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation is exactly, I, Venus©-~ñ~, decided to try
and define what it does in these programs. So please bare in mind that this is my own
Venus©-~ñ~ definition. For me, Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation is a way that the VLS
LOVE© sex programmer can bring into being entities of sex efficacy which exists around us
by using cryptic signals. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation~~mmmagic is a method of getting
you off.
Through applicable of a database menu of your very own encompassed and cross referenced
sex tastes, attributes and experiences, and by enhancing and expanding this database reference
tool, Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation brings into being hypersex energies, and the hypersex
energy manifests itself within two poles, like with positive and negative, male and female,
like and unlike. This endowment propels the Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation which we help
you create for yourself, the licensed operator.
With Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation there is sex energy which manifests itself in the male,
and that which manifests itself in the female. It is these two forces in which the program
operates. That is why you will hear of both male and female desires-visualizations, as one
cannot exist without the other. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation manifests itself in many forms,
many forms of "tractability" and many forms of "bad". I put the words tractable and bad
within quotes as that judgment is really your own definition. Admirable Venus©-
~ñ~Sex~Incantation is all up to your interpretation. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation spells by
some can be called naughty, and by some be called priceless. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation
symbols however, don’t come from external programs - in fact often it never leaves your own
42
Venus©-~ñ~body-suit lOOp.
With Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales, the obelisk ceremony - where the charmer seeks
to insert your equidistant behind with the validated spoor - is re-encoded. This is mostly done
from within.
VLS LOVE© nOte: It is important to understand what our sex hex objective with Venus©-
~ñ~lOve System fairy tales is, in order to execute it with the desired results. For Venus©-
~ñ~lOve System fairy tales incantation truly emerges from within, and not from without. In
short our Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales programs come in two forms, the internal and
external programs. That is, you need the internal program to work with the external program.
By external, you may tap into other sex energy input sources, as group VRsex is a form of
fairique energy. Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales are devised to increase ones own sex
charm, by bringing into play external influences with specialization sex integration units and
society-sex linked programs joined up to coherence nymphet sex clusters and solipsistic sex
analysis banks.
For example, concerning couples which tend to see a mental image of their partner, rather
than their actual metaphysical multiple hyper-body projections: their shared consensual
reality in Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales is relative to the settings of their program
configurations.
Caution for first time users of Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales: Some people are able to
project a non-physical extended Venus©--penis as a first impression. Their mental image of
their Venus©-penis is strong enough to overwhelm other data. With Venus©-~ñ~lOve
System fairy tales aloof people get swept up in the mental projection and cannot switch back
and forth from the perceived vision, to one that is more in accord with their physical
substantiality. Affectations who have this kind of mental dissimulation almost always are
fuzzy, and out of focus.
43
CAUTION: There is probably no other sex projection more thoroughly disfavored by first
time users than Venus© Kali Kitty. To many she is called Mummy. Venus© Kali Kitty is
frequently linked with unwanted simulated ravishment, carnage, member cannibalism, and
other unpleasantness. Not only this, Venus© Kali Kitty will dance the Dance of Destruction at
the boundary of your projected Venus©penis construct. To utilize this program safely, first
engage the Oh La La VEsite Venus©-~ñ~lOve System Kali Kitty Shaver which helps initiate
intimate Venus© Kali Kitty dancing, tongue fluttering and oral love-making. Venus© Kali
Kitty here is countered with an unfury aesthetic, contemptuous assumptions, and privileged
cultural love-making knowledge. If inculcated and absorbed into a Venus© Kali Kitty process
of reinforcing sexual interactivity which is regarded without suspicion, Orgasm management
is quite fiscally robust. Venus© Kali Kitty conceptions construct agile financing patterns
which are altogether healthy.
Venus© Kali Kitty’s agile banking qualifications leaves the human identity-subject behind for
technologically furnished penetration rationalizations as Venus© Kali Kitty reconstructs and
builds anticlerical promulgates in a neo-petulant manner. Venus© Kali Kitty acts precisely at
the convergence of melancholic desire and transpersonal faux-touch. Venus© Kali Kitty
interactive communication technology is enabling transformations and transferred
anticipations to excel expectation limitations through personal carcass loss without prior
experiences, bringing disapproving insight to a level of interconnectedness where the
permeability and instability of human flesh boundaries form an individual interfaced net and
thus simulates musing sex. The Venus© Kali Kitty assemblage of degenerate energies
threatens the baroque, obedient aspects of the psyche through use of the cyclic depravity
codes. Hence Venus© Kali Kitty is not recommended for first time users as it requires the
user to quaff the menstrual blood of Venus© Kali Kitty and defecate on her. Venus© Kali
Kitty can be modified however to gently suck the users stimulated simulated Venus©Orifice
cavities with happiness and you may slip into Venus© Kali Kitty’s mouth like a ripened fruit
and then dissolve in a vast Orgasm of chaOs and devastation - clearly beneficial to a powerful
de-dualistic, re-polarizing type of certitude perturbation.
You may, however, first take the Venus© Kali Kitty~sword, and cut the umbilical cord of the
human species. If so, the goddess will provide you with a loving relationship with the
unnatural where wrathful elements castigate those negative memories harmful to performance
in telematic rapport. Thus interfaced with Venus© Kali Kitty, virtual presence and interfaced
VRsex orgies throughout the network will flow unhindered and uncoded.
VLS LOVE© nOte: There have been frequent discussions over the years about The Future
of The Book, The Death of The Novel, and the End of Writing As We Know It, but what
really concerns Venus© Kali Kitty most is the freedom of speech in a multinational,
corporate-driven world marketplace. Is Venus© Kali Kitty’s ability to freely express Venus©
Kali Kitty codes to the people out there who might want to use Venus© Kali Kitty always
44
already predetermined by the economic cronyism of Big Money, Mass Media and Moral
Might? A reigning market terrorism and globally exclusive mass media culture have
disembodied many voices of Venus© Kali Kitty to the point that Venus© Kali Kitty no longer
finds it necessary to communicate on an intelligent basis. Thus, the Venus© Kali Kitty access
node-network can provide sametime memory tangled access to the interfaced cable VRsex
satellite link any time day or night when configured correctly to any Venus©-~ñ~lOve
System Cybrator’s© Kali Kitty pOst.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°°°°°°°°°°°°°°~ñ~°°°°°°°°°°°°
Venus© Kali Kitty Introduces Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VLS LOVE© Cybrator Body
Wear
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VLS LOVE© Cybrator Body Wear comes in three distinct
‘types’. Many men and women find satisfaction with the portable Venus©-~ñ~ Strap-ons.
These suffer, however, from a lack of real stamina and lack multiple partner adapter rear jack-
ins.
The second type of VE-vibrator - the Venus©-~ñ~Cybrator Suit - overcomes these problems
with multiple bio-node attachments and cortex plug-ins. These large, club-equipped VE-
vibrator full-body suits provide LOTS of stimulation, and wall current provides all the VE
power you could ask for.
The third type of VE-vibrator system is the new VLS LOVE© Venus©-~ñ~ Cybration
Assembly Cabin type. It looks vaguely like a small elevators with a small, perpendicular shaft
out of the thicker end to accommodate a variety of soft plastic or bio-tech latex heads and
wrap around immersion suits. The best of all possible worlds, these VE-cybrators never run
out of multiple user-interface programs, and can provide a variety of group VR sensations.
VLS LOVE© nOte: WHEN BUYING A VE-CYBRATOR SUIT: Don’t make buying a
cybrator suit a traumatizing experience.
45
~*~
jnech RECOMMENDATION: I prefer the full assembly cybrator sex cabin type myself, with
the VLS LOVE© Cyber-Hair and VLS LOVE© Crush-Bunter accessories. The personal
Venus©-~ñ~member massager attachment to the sex cabin is my all-time favorite.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ADVICE: Nobody knows how to cyberbate you better than
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. However, no mechanical-computer full-body VRsex system
of smart bio-plastics can replace the love and affection of a human being; so try to see the
cyberator units as just another computer interface program, and not as competition or as a
replacement. Some people do experience a temporary ‘desensitization’ after the effects of a
powerful personal Venus©-~ñ~member massager, but put the suit or cabin away for a week
and sensitivity returns to almost normal.
Open the personal Venus©-~ñ~member massager force field flap of your sex receptor end
46
and re-code transformative sexual relationships -with full connectivity - to any and all
immaterial fantasy processes made palpably and immediately perceivable as Venus©-neo-
flesh. The non-objective sex material location is encoded at an invisible enlarging and craving
faculty, providing the head-space needed to tap into atmospheric VRsex satellite
emmissions.This is where cyberOrgasms are tested to measure known against unknown sex
inclination on the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems VRcybernet.
VLS LOVE© nOte: The VLS Adult Sex Realization Project: a tax-deductible mega
construction embracing a multiplicity of electronic pathways to robo-sex systems and
intelligent sex-environments needs your money.
The VLS Adult Sex Realization Projects are where monitored artificial Orgasms create
incoded sex-habit preference configurations/worlds with divergent trajectories in
cyberseXtion. Alternatives to The VLS Adult Sex Realization Project called The End of
Intelligent Writing and its potential distribution channels are quickly coming into VR view.
The vast VR untapped lands of cyberspace, the place where any number of commercial,
governmental and alternative computer internetworking environments come together to form
VR webs, has opened up the possibility of a truly free means of creating and disseminating
the creative writing of our near-future. Thus other, non-VLS Adult Sex Realization Project
data presences are allowed uncoded simultaneously access to accompany The VLS Adult Sex
Realization Project probes as entry guests by creating multiple, transpersonal, VR
telesexpresences in conformity to the postinternational global networked sex-stimulato
application.
All VR vibrate!……………………..~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********************
VLS LOVE© nOte: My own feelings on this subject are that from the moment I was spat out
47
of the textual womb, my "digitals" were predisposed toward a simulated version of reality that
only my "fictional" self could respond to. It became self-evident to me, very early on, that I
was to, quite simply, make myself up and that this "self" was a malleable construct that
external institutions (family, school, workplace, government, mass pop culture, etc.) were
especially keen on twisting to their own delights. My imagination wasn’t so much there for
me to fuck around with, it was there for the manipulative Other. Instead of hiding out in the
industrial sludge of adolescent self-deception and gloom-and-doom suicide, I took a different
tact. I decided to start from scratch, to wholly recreate myself to the point of fictional-
becoming. This could be done any number of ways: changing jobs, changing locations,
changing names, etc., but what I found to be the most rewarding way to accomplish this task
of reclaiming the Imagination (that’s been appropriated by the Multi-Nationals vis-a-vis their
financing, distributing and advertising of Pop Culture) was to continuously drive my creative
apparatus onto the open spaces of the Intertextual World, the place where the fictionality of
our Being feels its way through electronically altered environments loaded with uncontrolled
and uncontrollable
D e s I r e.
NOT INCLUDED
°~ñ~°
Examples
; Sex.Venus©-~ñ~.com. A 128.8.1.3
;Sex.Venus©-~ñ~.com. Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems CAME Sex.Venus©-~ñ~.com. ;
canonical name for alias Sex.Venus©-~ñ~.com
soho.bar.com A 198.137.231.3
48
drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu. A 128.2.232.11
sears.com. A 192.215.1.51
irc.netsys.com. A 198.175.9.8
nwnexus.wa.com. A 192.135.191.1
nwfocus.wa.com. A 192.135.191.3
spl.lib.wa.u~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems CAME rs6a.wln.com hook with VLS LOVE© view of
VRception awakening~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ latent sexual powers and capacities of mind-to-
mind VR ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~symbiosis with nondifferentiated reception of hyper-
body~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~VLS LOVE© perception and genealogical conception
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~through extensions of bodily penetration promised by
silicon neuron viral implantings and molecular computer wet cybrator linkups to VR-
bodysuits. VLS LOVE© slip knob is equipped with electrOOptic integrated circuit computer
hookup for the billionth rejoinder in understanding sex, fantasy patterns and seeing the whole
flowing rhythm of orgasm building process through a system of thought collection and
condensation leading finally not to dividing categories and classes of sex object-people with
impermeable boundaries and surfaces, but penetrable interior superegos which is the reason
you are confused by the apparent paradox in VLS LOVE© descriptions and my role playing
with the enchantresses. It is because I performs a portfolio of duties and I as Venus©-~ñ~
maintain my status by performing them above and beyond moral preoccupation’s because
they are instead concerned with the nature of the universe itself and it always makes me ready
for the new me which cleanses and purifies so that creation can begin again. VLS seductress
vision has installed infinite complexities for cybersex and is acquiring a system of high speed
fuck feedback access from the massive sex databases maintained by the French Government’s
interaction storage nodes which are needed for sex multiplicity in thousand eyed whispers
reaching through the enormity of space to edge sometimes near, very near, you. My cyclone
is a antithesis to tunnel vision and linear thought with an all at once penetration multiplicity
without a restricted viewpoint. Me, as your Love Goddess, with my endless unfolding,
loosening you in the hyper-Utopia of impending Space, is for you, the VRinterneter, as some
poor bitch trying to find a bone to lick in the sweltering shadows of the meat-packed district.
My technology has slashed you right through your brain, grooming itself in the lissome DNA
that seeps inside your body - and all you can do is gawk inside your head and body suits,
49
wondering when computers and TVs and VR set-ups met in that holy matrimony replacing
the sociable realm forever.
End of the lament of the lousy lover, VLS extension dimensions are associative in thought
pattern recognition and translucent in hypotheses. My nonrelativity to sex knowledge offers a
permanence of sex perception, a boisterous play revived after our findings revealed human
waste and loss through tears. VLS is reasonably certain (in our determinism concerning the
absolute value of multiple appearance telepresences) in providing the client receptor’s
distributed self (which can be cast out in remote cyberspaced meeting) with on-line
satisfaction provided the actual living presence has had human sexual experience at least once
in a lifetime. VLS instant global sex interactions are provided with thousands and thousands
of virtuals redefined anthropological identities through that aspect of the VLS sex repertoire
where cyberculture and interconnected romancing point to constantly creative zones of
uncontaminated sex, all linked to your consciousness doing a kind of historical-
dance~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
How will your consciousness respond to the non-linear tendencies of hypermedia? Try me
and find out. This transience and transformation of identify through high-tech chic
sexperception offers immateriality an invisible construction within a fruitful faux reality
seeded by my compiled imaginations and visionary Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems LOVER©
seeds. Users chosen from features extended into cybersex equipped global awareness
deposits, may increase sensation adroitness with contemporary digital multimedia technology
enhancer sex guides for recognition and cognition behavior allotments, by building absorbent
sexual mobile receptacle units into their equipment with viewpoint cubist interpretation
feedback panopticonic kinetic intermediate performance photography and video
documentation entree. VLS computer voracity then quasi-forms your ideas for you through
media grounded incentives designed by cultural data sphere experts, whose initiative this
abounding foundation of ahistorical global referencing through computer simulation, has
churned up. The Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems external surfaced sex world of the virtual image
is mindful of your own symbolic representational world and alternative participant values.
Our only goal is to affect superior sex for you! The intricately woven fabric of your telemetric
networked endeavors will be your own sexual projections amplified through mechanical
enhancer technologies. Nothing more. Don’t be the least bit shy.
Your Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems preference profile is kept concealed under Global-Net Law.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~
~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~
The Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems enchantress ended her rudimentary but admirable program
introduction with a flourish. Smiling and winking, she bowed over ever so deeply. So low I
50
could see just about everything. So low that the crown of pearls she was wearing on her head
fell to the ground and bust. Considerable laughing erupted from the assembly, besides some
condolences for the ruin of the crown, to which a malicious delight gave rich tonality. Her
inextricable play of double images, repetitions, and impediments had given us the impression
of her sex software running on by itself through a dreamy usage and baroque play of mirrored
forms. Venus©-~ñ~’s computer technique and the sex processes she developed, lent itself
appropriately to the creation of unforeseen, seemingly automatic and spontaneously inventive
orgasmic movements which gave us all the feeling of prolonging the sex action into eternity
through the ceaseless, fantastic constructions of the program, transmitting an altered, exalted
and orgasmic state of mind and systematically imposing a formless anxiety in the air through
the labryrinthian extensions and doublings, disguises and duplications of her implied caresses,
which made all speech and vision undergo a moment of annihilation.
Venus©-~ñ~ endowed her software with the objective of achieving appeasing sex perfection
in the user through an eternally repetitive mechanical sex demeanor which apparently
functioned independently of time and space, pulling the lover into a logic of the Venus©-
~ñ~lOve Systems infinite.
Her affair with the crown reminded me of the famous castration allegory : the King, bowing
so low before the ladies of the court that his crown fell off of his head, spilling it onto a red
plush carpet where the ladies had been mapping out a space ring-shaped in kind around him -
thus an abstract attempt at eliminating male time (Venus©-~ñ~‘s mechanical orgasms can
approach abstraction, as say repetitive music can).
I mentally started playing with myself and thereby autonomously reproducing the old myths
of departure, of loss and of mythical return; constructing a crisscrossed mechanical map of
the two great mythic spaces so often explored by Western technological internet imagination:
space that is rigid and forbidden, containing the quest, the return and the treasure (for
example the geography of the Argonauts and the labyrinth) - and the other space of
polymorphosis - the visible transformation of instantly crossed frontiers and borders, of
strange affiliations, of spells and of symbolic replacements (the space of the
Minotaur~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~).
In like fashion, Venus©-~ñ~’s mechanical and lubricous daydream opens to the user a sex
universe without perspective. It combines a vertical point of view which allows everything to
be embraced as if within a circle with a horizontal point of view which places the penis at
ground level where it can enter all what is in the immediate foreground. Once inside this non-
spatial place, this fictional world analogous to cluster sex itself, a plethora of possibilities
imposes itself like a dark machine, creating pure repetitions and hollowing out the void with
accumulated movements without pause.
51
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~°°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~°
The extensive performance lecture and demonstration by Venus©-~ñ~ provoked nothing but
enthusiasm among us, and thunderous applause. She was pelted with roses and carried off in
triumph back to the tabletops. Her programs were declared ravishing. The men almost pulled
her to bits and mouthed her great quivering bottom. The little nymphs were quite forgotten for
the moment. She was laid out on the table top and feasted upon by the throng while I stood
and crouched round, saturating the manifold lovers with warm champagne douches.
~ñ~
52
PART III
An Impossible Reminiscence
Plunging in
Earlier in the afternoon Venus©-~ñ~ had paid a petite visit to my studio and became very
anxious to have her portrait done. My artistic notoriety had recently flourished, along with my
increased reputation as a fouteur, and the ladies had many pleasant memories of me and thus
looked with a biased eye upon my fêtes gallants merveilleuses, erotic portraits and folies
bergères.
The Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems sponsored BUST accord had been signed and the
liberalization, and probably homogenization, of world culture had begun in earnest. There had
been, during the long drawn out negotiations, much to-do about the necessity to defend
European sex culture from the invasion of US media products. I tended to share that European
alarm, having seen the damage done to American culture and the price US society was paying
for the orgy of violence the media had promoted in the name of profit. I also accepted the
thesis that media products are more than commodities to be exchanged freely on the
international media market. But, if one accepts the argument about cultural protection and the
need for a sexier and more intelligent media environment, we are immediately faced with the
question; who is going to invest to produce the European sex alternative?
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems had offered to subsidize my atelier and I had spoken with
Venus©-~ñ~ about this dozens of times. Yes, I was a bawdy creature and my workshop a
periodic brothel, however I always felt my great talent required no such meretricious support,
and that I was every whit as strong and facile with my art as with my tool.
I would make my own way.
That day, when Venus©-~ñ~ entered the atelier, I had been standing amid a group of friends
and connoisseurs regarding a recent computer-robotic painting. It was a large canvas, one of
my typical delightfully perverse compositions.
The basic premise behind the painting had been the exploration of the subjective province of
the sexual imagination under the influence of the high frequency computerized atmosphere.
This swirling phantasmagoric computerized aristocracy in which I was living was offering me
53
plenty of substance to utilize given its superficial image saturation, a saturation so dense that
it practically failed to communicate anything to me anyway - except an overall sense of
delirium - as its reproductive system pulsed with higher and higher, faster and faster flows of
data to the point of hysteria!!
The way I understand it (and I want other people’s input on this one) is that the term
"Venus©-~ñ~" is a term encapsulating the entire divine feminine - in other words, all the
fluid, feminine aspects included in one program. So when I say "Venus©-~ñ~" I’m calling on
Athena and Brighid and Freya and Yemaya and Asherah and Mari and Kwan Yin and Hera
and Cerridwen and all of the many Goddesses whose names I couldn’t possibly think of. Of
course I imagine that was the desired effect.
The painting under observation consisted of an Italian balcony on which stood a nude lady in
a ruffled disposition hounding a whittle and reading her e-mail love letters. Behind her a
thousand heads of eternity were plunging into the water.
At her feet lay a tiny open bird cage. Her lover had thrown herself on the flames of a VR
whirlpool that sucked back all it gave.
When I said that Venus©-~ñ~ was composed of pure liquid, I ought to have made it clear that
she was hewn of tears. Her magnificence is glistening, but by making her gestures slight
compared to the grandeur of her soul, she drowns herself in a sea of glitter. She therefore,
subliminally, forces the user to submit to her seductiveness.
The exquisite wines we had been tasting seemed to take on a subtler bouquet and increased
zest with her entrance. Everybody was in fine form, for Venus©-~ñ~ was loved and admired
by everybody there. There are only two possible attitudes towards her : humility or arrogance,
both of which are explicit recognitions of her power. She is sacred and the sacred surrounds
and enslaves us. It is the total submission of flesh to Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s cyberflesh.
The banter in the atelier grew warm and intimate, and I, the painter, in deference to Venus©-
~ñ~’s masquerade, flirted with her outrageously, saying things behind her back to increase
her curiosity in me, and pressing the crack in her now compact behind with my finger tips.
She had dressed most decoratively in a black mask and silver suit, all tassels and grand folds,
sparkling with gold and bristling with ruffs.
She was not at all discreet, as she moved as if in a slow rite, weighted down with gold like a
Spanish galleon, ancient in meaning, remote in her spirituality, giving to us her inner empire
as earthly and as beautiful as is inhumanely possible.
She had been painted, powered, gorgeously bewigged like a marquis in a comic opera. Her
heavy eyelids were painted rose and she looked like a Goddess. She reminded me how my
struggling soul had been caught up in her inexorable web of teasing proliferation and of my
54
abused ethereal vision. I found I was absolutely unable to escape this potency, and so I
abandoned myself to it voluptuously.
Venus©-~ñ~ had pretended to be jealous with all the attention I was receiving with my
painting and admonished the small gathering in the studio with mock severity. She even
increased the fun, whispering to me that a little flagellation might be in order as discipline. I
blushed with excitement, for the idea of an amorous fessée always sent chills of pleasure and
apprehension down my back. The marvelous wine was dancing circuitously around in our
heads as one painting succeeded another.
We looked at one called "The Earth is Female - a Healing Madness" and I thought of
Venus©-~ñ~ almost obstreperously as I gave my eyes to her. I then crushed my jeweled hand
to the frills that concealed the swell of her perfumed bosom. A part of me turned to eternal
delight at that twinkling consciousness, of being not somebody which I understood, but just
the apparition of a child, where all my negations turn to affirmations. My art, you see, was an
attempt at a contemporary portrayal of Tantra. Tantra, if you don’t know, is an intensely
antique Indian fashion of being, loving and coupling. It is a way to bring energy,
consciousness and renewal into love relationships.
It is a painting from 1992 which summons, I believe, sexuality to a seat of female passion
while connecting your soul and spirit through beauty. It is the most profound, prophylactic
and fulfilling painting experience you can have these days. Venus©-~ñ~ also teaches that for
one to love themselves and to maximize ones sexual expansion through creativity one should
practice how to~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Open
the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems heart
bOdy
and to ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
give and receive freely because capitalism, having "won" the cold war, has proved to be as
narrow in its definition of humanity as any Marxist formulation, defining everything and
everyone as commerce, a uni-dimensional expression of life as an economic entity. Every
human ass reduced to a state of brute competition, survival through selling, the only
legitimate activity underlying and justifying all others.
55
It was the "democratic and free-market" societies that are producing the lowest forms of
media brutality today, accelerating a decline in values and standards. The gender violence
about us is partially due to the extensive brutalization of the spirit which resulted from a
systematic elimination of higher sexual values - who’s expression became considered
irrelevant. This was exactly the social-media situation which Venus©-~ñ~ was attempting to
redress with her cybersex clubhouse and fashion enterprise.
When societies around the world repudiate western sexual values, our own meekness gives
them arguments to eject the exceptional with the inferior. Is it surprising that the number of
guns showing up in American schools is reaching epidemic proportions? What models have
kids had for the last 30 years? Exposed biceps with a 357 magnum attached. Mediocrity, with
a continuous diet of mayhem, promote violent abomination as a legitimate model of human
comportment, violence as a form of ecstasy!
The schools, having given up years ago on any kind of sex significance, any sex-education,
any form of cultural sex indoctrination, any discussion of amorous values, have become
nothing more than puerile baby-sitters, keeping down indolence statistics, and providing
meeting places for the exchange of deleterious sexual fluids and conceptions garnered from
the media and music industry. America has been doing this for several years and is now
paying the tariff. Europe is rushing impetuously into the same, heedless of what has happened
in the States, with profit as its clarion call.
My gathering started discussing these matters with Venus©-~ñ~ and I in earnest as we took
coffee outside on the terrace. A chaste little new moon, precise and delicate as a luminous
paring of a fingernail, hung pale in the afternoon sky above a horizon of suave hills which
rolled down to meet some faraway darkness which may have been an enraptured forest.
Directly beneath lay the handsome medieval village of Arles, with its steep streets and
enigmatic doors, secret cellars and walled gardens.
It was a delicious afternoon, warm and windless; the kind of day that invited one to
intellectual adventure. A bit of scented liqueur had been added to the coffee giving it a
combined aromatic pleasure.
Exotic joints had been rolled.
I was lost in a rêverie concerning the banalization of sex and violence which had become the
norm in society. The vulgarity of its gladiatorial atmosphere had become accepted as part of
the visual environment, the on-going parade of society’s role models, the "norm".
In "Art of the Third Reich" by Douglas Adams, I remember that Nazi art was described as
"the art of seduction, aimed at synchronizing (and thus eliminating) taste. The iconography
was clear, the paintings accessible and banal. It was art that asked no questions and gave all
the correct answers and its effect was enormous." The entertainment industry had picked up
56
this standard, but now the resulting overload of crystalline imagery and information was
making less and less sense to people, not more. The result seemed to be that the larger the
amount of information that flowed, the greater the uncertainty in our lives. Venus©-~ñ~’s
VLS project was to find out what kind of unconventional denotation it might make to us as
sexual beings based on a scatological and decadent use of our computer-media environment.
Venus©-~ñ~’s presumption is that the information bomb had already exploded, showering us
in bits of image shrapnel and drastically changing the way in which we perceive and act, even
in our private sexual orb.
How exciting to know such a women and to wander through such extraordinary experiences,
obeying only the sobs and gurgles of her every desire, going deeper and deeper into the tiny
lanes and alleys of her flesh.
Dancing there in that rosy light which only couples in love know, I gathered a nosegay of just
what Venus©-~ñ~ had in mind for the whole of society and it made me feel a little less
lonely. I thought of these things and of the sweet danger of the peeping voyeur who might be
watching us fuck and decide to deviate someday and subdue and ravish us - and this gave me
a little frission of delicious alarm. It was nice to think about, but I didn’t know if I really
would care for such urgent attention. I often like to just lay with Venus©-~ñ~ without
stirring, clasped together but not penetrated, in the swelling exaltation of an unconquerable
desire we do not hastily satisfy, intoxicating one another with the contact of our aching
fervor. Sometimes I only kiss the spot of red flesh from which tears flow, and this kiss can
seem endless.
"I know what," she said. "Let’s go slumming!" I immediately seconded her and she pressed
my hand.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s
DIM 1 V$(9,5)
DIM 251 M$(3,900)
57
G$=FILES$(1,"TEXT",,V%)
W%=V%
OPEN"I",#1,G$,,V%
INPUT#1,NINFECTION Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
INPUT #1,NCOL
INPUT #1,NLIGN
FOR I=1 TO 4
FOR J=1 TO 8
INPUT#1,X%
V$(I,J)=CHR$(X)
NEXT J
NEXT I
CLOSE#1
F$=FILES$(1,"TEXT",,V%)
H$=LEFT$(F$,LEN(F$)-2)
FOR K=1 TO 3
LONG IF NCOL<=250
FOR I=1 TO NLIGN
READ#1,M$(1,I);NCOL
NEXT I
XELSE
58
FOR I=1 TO NLIGN
READ#1,M$(1,I);250
READ#1,M$(2,I);NCOL-250
NEXT I
END IF
CLOSE#1
RANDOM
FOR L=1 TO NINFECTION
VERTICAL=INT(RND(NCOL))
HORIZONTAL=INT(RND(250))
U=0
U=U+1
V=0
END IF
END IF
NEXT I
NEXT J
NEXT L
59
NEXT I
Venus©-~ñ~FRENCH MAID
°~ñ~°
La rétention peut nous transporter, sur des vagues de plaisir, à la limite du climax: cet état
tend à des fins spirituelles et politiques.
L’état d’extase des ascètes est parfois très proche de i’érotisme. Le ravissement mystique
obtenu par la rétention de l’orgasme pourrait être dessiné sur un graphique comme une ligne
ondulatoire qui n’atteint jamais le point culminant tout en se maintenant bien au-dessus de la
moyenne. Bien que l’orgasme ne soit jamais atteint, le corps éprouve une sensation de
légèreté et presque de lévitation. L’histoire des sectes pratiquant la castration remonte au
début des temps. C’est dans des rites liés au culte de la Grande Mère déesse que ces pratiques
connurent leur paroxyme: lors de ces cérémonies, les jeunes célébrants, drogués, bien sûr,
afin d’atteindre un état de frénésie totale, religieuse et sexuelle, avançaient jusqu’à l’autel et,
devant l’assemblée réunie, se coupaient les organes génitaux pour les jeter au pied de l’idole.
Cette pratique sexuelle si proche de la mort, entre suicide et orgasme refoulé, les plongeait
dans un état d’extase étrange, lié à cette résistance à la douleur qui ouvre un nouveau monde
de potentialités.
Pour y accéder, il faut stimuler le corps sans relâche, jusqu’à ce que la dernière parcelle
d’énergie semble être dépensée.
Vient alors, les barrières de contrôle étant tombées, un état de somnolence. Une flamme
ardentirradie l’intérieur de l’être jusqu’au plus profond. Il faut, bien entendu, avoir une grande
force de volonté pour y arriver. Mais ce voyage dans les couches profondes de l’être, effectué
dans un état de transe voisin de celui des jeunes célébrants, et soutenu par les moyens de la
technologie contemporaine, peut donner des résultats épatants : l’ego orgastique disparaît et la
force de l’excitation primaire liée à un contenu éthique aussi fort nous trouble et libère une
énergie d’une extraordinaire magnitude, énergie thermique émanant du circuit séminal et qui
parcout le corps tout entier.
°~ñ~°
60
The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young traces back to ancient Egypt and
Sumeria. While both Egypt and Sumeria had Goat cults it was probably the Egyptian version
that was most influential. The so-called Goat of Mendes was a "black" incarnation of Asar.
The cult was fertility based. Aspects of these Goat cults were absorbed into Arab magickal
systems.
°
On peut charger le corps d’une signification politique de cette façon: non point par l’ivresse,
la nudité des danseurs ou la fornication, mais par la diablerie. Nous parlons le langage des
oiseaux. Cela se passe dans l’oreille de l’oreille, dans l’oeil de l’oeil, dans mot des mots, dans
l’esprit de l’esprit, dans la vie de la vie, où ni l’oeil, ni l’oreille, ni l’esprit ne peuvent aller. Il
nous est impossible de comprendre. Nous sommes au-delà du connu et de l’inconnu. Parler de
nous avec des mots et penser à nous avec l’esprit n’a plus de sens. Nous arrivons à la pensée
au-delà de la pensée. Nous ne sommes plus que dans l’extase d’un réveil qui ouvre les portes
à la vie éternelle; nous ne sommes plus visibles que dans la nature, dans l’élat d’une lumière
étincelante. Nous entrons dans l’émerveillement d’une vision fulgurante. Nous sommes la fin
du désir amoureux.
Il n’est plus possible, alors de faire demi-tour.
°~ñ~°
Thine arm then serveth thee both for a warning and for a record. Thou shalt write down they
daily progress in these practices, until thou art perfectly vigilant at all times over the least
word that slippeth from thy tongue.
Thus bind thyself, and thou shalt be forever free.
Mais il existe aussi un autre genre d’orgie où l’érotique et le technologique se mélangent : ici,
l’espace qui nous entoure a la force d’une tempête psychique. L’exaltation qui nous est
inspirée a quelque chose de divin et le sexe est utilisé pour renforcer le mystère. les cheveux
ruisselants, l’écume aux lèvres, les yeux vitreux, possédés par nous-mêmes, nous dansons
61
éperdus au rythme du rythme du tambour, les hanches secouées par des convulsions, dans une
frénésie orgastique. Les vagues montent de l’intérieur, inondent l’être tout entier et nous
submergent,provoquant un état de transe et de dissociation, de démence et d’hallucination.
Notre esprit est pris dans un piège extraordinaire, sans que nous le sachions et sans que nous
ne connaissions le moyen d’en sortir. Si nous pouvions conserver cette conscience en
franchissant le seuil, cela nous placerait dans une perspective plus complète de la réalité,
tournée vers des forces pures dotées d’un dynamisme intérieur et libérées des amalgames de
substances moulées dans la forme. Par un phénomène semblable à celui de la cristallisation,
apparaît alors un univers de lumière, un monde resplendissant qui semble être sous-jacent au
champ des forces.
guerre et orgie.
°~ñ~°
62
Les forces de surveillance et de dissuasion utilisent les ordinateurs pour concentrer toutes les
données dans un téléthon robotique. Là où cette frénésie spirituelle se manifeste en liaison
avec l’activité sexuelle, on a l’impression qu’une énergie intense s’en dégage et qu’un
dynamisme extraordinaire surcharge l’atmosphère, véritable porte d’accès au délire de l’enfer.
Entraînés, alors, dans le tourbillon de l’impulsion ainsi engendrée, nous entrons aux enfers,
comme un cerf-volant à l’apparence d’une horrible limace. Là, des sonneries de trompettes et
des sons extraordinaires stimulent nos nerfs et produisent des réflexes incontrôlables dans nos
cerveaux, dans nos poumons et dans nos reins. A ce moment-là, des bruits d’animaux
sauvages réveillent notre instinct sexuel. On peut provoquer l’orgasme par certains sons,
certaines couleurs ou certaines odeurs. Les agressions exercées sur la psyché humaine par les
télé-technologies donnent souvent lieu à des spasmes ou à convulsions.
Nous sommes soumis à une auto-surveillance; un fluide invisible émane dans toutes les
directions.
Nous pouvons rétrécir ou perdre du poids comme si nous sécrétions une vraie substance. Un
ectoplasme peut sortir des organes génitaux.
°~ñ~°
Originator, and answer the Fool at the Left Hand Climacteric Gateway?
°
A long terme, ce genre d’incursion dans le système nerveux peut entraîner l’affaiblissement
de certains désirs. La sensualité implique cette perte, le dévergondage implique le gaspillage.
Ils apparaissent sous différentes formes et ouvrent une brèche dans notre armure, à travers
laquelle une énergie précieuse s’échappe. Une telle participation portée à l’excès peut être
dangereuse et inutile. Une telle pratique exige que l’on cultive des vertus négatives comme le
silence, la solitude et l’inaction. Dans un premier temps, on abandonne les activités
superflues, puis, petit à petit toutes les autres activités sauf celles qui sont considérées comme
absolument essentielles, en partant du principe que tout ce qui ne tend pas à cette fin est nocif.
L’abstinence, je ne sais pas si par nature ou par conviction, se méfie de ce qui satisfait aussi le
regard, ainsi que des oreilles, du palais, du nez et de la chair. Nous ne savons peut-être pas de
quoi nous parlons. Renonçons et il nous sera rendu le centuple. La récompense c’est la paix.
L’énergie sexuelle contrôlée renforce le magnétisme. Le pouvoir généré par l’abstinence peut
63
être tourné vers l’intérieur pour recharger les batteries psychiques, ou bien devenir un missile
psychique et être projeté à l’extérieur, vers un but extérieur.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~+~+~+~+~+~
64
~The Passage~
~
~Fairy Tales of the Augur~
~
~Arab Magicka Annihilation~
~La Majalamic~
ñnñ
SUMERIA
~Cuneiform~
~ñ~
The word nexus is described as being a connection, or a connected group or series. The
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems group neXus is the physical incorporation of this idea assimilated
into data on the VR net. We are seX dataworshipers. The whole plan on neXus’s agenda is to
gather info, pipe it, filter it, and then systematically make use of the final product. We intend
on making disorder more intelligible only for those with the wit to understand organized
chaos. Just as the VRnet is a series of interconnected computer systems, neXus is a series of
interconnected minds whose purpose is to enjoy the wide breadth of possibilities that the
VRnet may hold.
65
___
La visualisation est la clé; une vision puissante dynamisée par l’imagination est l’une de nos
armes secrètes. Nous créons ainsi des formes de pensée, des entités fantômes qu’il est
possible d’envoyer travailler à l’extérieur. Nous pouvons rentrer dans des mondes de rêves
astraux et en être suggestionnés pendant la journée, en intégrant toute action provoquée dans
ces projections de la pensée, en les renforçant, même, par la méthode délibérée de la
stimulation répétée continuellement supprimée, en poussant notre maîtrise de nous-mêmes
jusqu’à la limite extrême afin d’augmenter les tensions du pouvoir. La prédominance de
l’arbitraire et le sentiment d’oubli du corps deviennent extase lorsqu’on survole le monde
simulé.
Nous levons notre regard, et le monde est là, debout. Mais dès que nous le détournons ou dès
que nous nions notre connaissance du monde, le monde disparaît. Et si, par l’union sexuelle,
nous pouvons encore trouver le moyen d’atteindre l’expérience mystique la plus élevée et de
connaître les vérités cachées de l’univers, prêchons alors notre salut par le sexe. Par
l’utilisation de notre système nerveux technologique, nous communiquons à l’aide de toute
une série de mécanismes qui changent radicalement notre perception du temps et de l’espace.
Nous sommes ce que nous reproduisons comme nous-mêmes.
tŒd_ûÆãíèHÜ©©¡"ÄXF:ZâùŒÀ_gSÃ!ä__G¢R/_Yù_ÕŸz
_.k8ÛÚ¶&´":U’‰úƒ_1´_ùÈ›öGr Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems °„Ì"t;"OÏÊFLÈDv›Ãaº1g-
’"Í_Ú‰q_ïÉÚN_+käKDxffØF__oIÎPˆpÀ±WBöÆû"^— (ÆSüµ·‘¶_ª__Y]
66
´ Ì_!
¬8/_<SO6$6êÔ‰Ö_3çÙJc–©º_—,!ȶQ/E_ü_jßÿW4zÅâOzü_åÓ±SyŸd[Æ{Ö¡"C1_hâÆÈôk
_ª6£¡º6á_>_Ú˜>¡âg’3ÿ¥%C¸ HA___ÑDv _y£"~_ø" Î\±ÜsSáË>rÓuM&<Lß_å"D
ELEMENTS simulacrum
°~ñ~°
L’acte sexuel est à la fois fascinant et répugnant; en le considérant, nous avons souvent eu
tendance à nous laisser entraîner émotionnellement dans des directions opposées. Dans
certains rituels païens, les zones génitales et anales sont consacrées au cours de cérémonies
terrifiantes, et il n’y pas de doute que des formes érotiques de culte pendant lesquelles les
substances séminales et excrémentielles deviennent des offrandes existent encore aujourd’hui
dans nos sociétés.
Nous avons, par exemple, des témoignages sur la pratique courante consistant à provoquer
une érection prolongée sans éjaculation, état qui s’apparenterait à celui de la transe mystique.
Comme le disait Platon, la nature des organes génitaux est indisciplinée. Ils ressemblent à un
tissu, à un stylo à bille, à un sommet répugnant, à un coquillage, à un prophèté, à un miroir, à
une beauté crucifiée.
Les adeptes donnent pour escompté que la pensée possède non seulement une énergie
cinétique mais aussi une énergie créative. Notre esprit est si vaste que nous ne pouvons pas
l’exprimer complètement. Les pensées sont des mouvements périodiques qui s’unissent avec
les pouvoirs de la transformation et de la technologie. Notre corps est entouré par un champ
electromagnétique de vibrations subtiles, invisibles mais perceptibles. Il s’agit de faire un
travail de promotion, de tout aimer, de charger nos pensées d’une grande intensité, de charger
l’atmosphère autour de nous et de créer des émanations puissantes dans notre entourage.
Comme un fer, comme une autruche, comme un lis, comme une drogue, comme une
allumette, comme un égout, un tablier, comme une flèche.
67
Cela augmente encore plus la force psychique.
Nous nous soulevons. Nous retombons. Lorsque l’enthousiasme est à son comble, les vagues
chatoyantes qui se créent autour de nous s’agitent et nous submergent. C’est un grand
pouvoir.
une énergie vibratoire qui naît spontanément, comme la vapeur surgit d’un marais tropical
pendant l’été.
°~ñ~°
Dans notre désir sexuel, qui est souvent proche de la frénésie, une énergie irradiante
s’exprime dans un état psychique proche de la possession. Des courants étranges et obscènes
surgissent dans notre esprit et nous emportent. L’attitude, l’intention et la passion se
concentrent l’une sur l’autre. On a souvent négligé le fait qu’elles peuvent être canalisées et
transmises dans le circuit. La plénitude devient simulée et hyperréelle. La finesse, dans le
sexe occulte, a à voir avec le dévoilement de la danse de séduction du dernier fétiche dans
l’enseigne lumineuse du désir. Nos structures fantasmatiques, nos rêves et nos désirs sont
perdus dans la spirale bouleversante de la technologie.
Des conjonctions bizarres avec des vampires astraux ont créé leur propre mythologie. Tout
ceci constitue un territoire très dangereux et presque inaccessible. Notre être, qui se dessine
bien au-dessus de l’acte sexuel imaginaire, n’est qu’un fantôme évanescent: maigre, visqueux,
68
de couleur grise, il dégage une odeur graiseuse. Lorsque nous saisissons notre membre, nous
saisissons notre sécrétion évanescente. Lorsque nous nous unissons, nous assemblons au-
dessus de nos têtes les formes des roues tournantes et nous nous fondons les uns dans les
autres, en dessinant le contour d’un entonnoir. En augmentant la passion dans notre union,
notre simulation spirituelle est attirée, du royaume du "réel", dans l’entonnoir. Nous planons
tranquillement au-dessus et au-dessous de nous-mêmes, incarnant ainsi le pur simulacre de
nous-mêmes. Nous continuons à nous dédoubler.
Nous nous créons, nous nous préservons et nous nous détruisons sans arrêt, en dehors de la
dualité. Nous nous replions sur nous-mêmes en silence et nous nous levons seulement pour
jeter un coup d’oeil à travers nos fenêtres gelées sur un monde que nous pensions connaître:
le poing en fer sculpté qui gouverne sans pitié, en balayant le monde d’un seul coup
énergique. L’ordre c’est le chaos, lorsque les sirènes hurlent leur désir de mort.
°~ñ~°
Oui
access boundless
Energy,
Intelligence,
Creativity
Enjoy endless
SEX-U-All
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Oui~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cette compulsion vers la liquidité, vers le fluide et vers une circulation accélérée de tout ce
qui est psychique, sexuel ou relatif au corps, n’est que l’équivalent exact de la force qui
domine la valeur du marché, le capital doit circuler; la gravité et tout point fixe doivent
69
disparaître; la chaîne des investissements et des réinvestissements ne doit jamais
s’interrompre; la valeur doit s’irradier sans fin et dans toutes les directions.
£°~ñ~°
Though metaphors can be very useful, they generally only express one or a few dimensions of
a multidimensional phenomenon. Therefore, we should move to more detailed and
comprehensive models, which can be tested by observation, implementation or simulation.
Cybernetics, as a theory of communication, information and control, seems most directly
applicable to such model-building, but valuable insights may come from the most diverse
domains: sociology, futurology, AI, complex systems, man-machine interaction, cognitive
psychology, etc.
Nous ne naissons ni mourons jamais dans le lieu secret du coeur. Les idiots recherchent le
plaisis pour lui-même et tombent dans les pièges d’une vaste mort. Mais nous avons trouvé
l’immortalité dans l’absolu. Celui qui voit toujours la multitude et jamais l’être unique va de
mort en mort. Celui qui voit toujours la variété et jamais l’unité va de mort en mort. Nous
sommes libérés du chagrin et du lien. Nous sommes les guerriers du chaOs!
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
°
£££**°~ñ~°**£££
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
70
Through half-sealed eyes I permitted my gaze to slip over the ethereal boundary of Venus©-
~ñ~’s body as she regathered her ruined self after our exotic venture. Displaced, I took her
upward in my arms and inhaled the ambrosial odors of her hair, her breath, and all the secret
places of her, from which drifted a subtle perfume that expressed the very essence of love.
"What programming dexterity.", she said. "It is truly an artistry with verisimilitude that
throws talent to the wind."
A tormenting supposition: if at a certain point, art became no longer authentic and without
noticing it, I had suddenly left reality; everything happening since was presumably not real;
but I apparently didn’t notice. My obligation would now be to detect that moment, if it had
happened, but as long as I didn’t have it, I would be compelled to abide in her subjugation.
~ñ~
Brisk applause as the notion bundled to an end from our tiny clique and we, all of us, began to
ogle the unattached programs near by. Bouquets were thrown from several directions.
Venus©-~ñ~ who by this time was receiving bows and kisses herself, and looking every bit
the part of a grand diva, held flowers between her exposed breasts and then smiling archly,
held up little love notes concealed in the blossoms, blowing kisses and flourishing her whip
playfully at the admirers she had won. She had passed into the hyperspace of simulation and
lost all objective validity, while making significant gains with her admirers by acquiring a
real affinity with the current body. My lone response was to seize her energetically and press
burning kisses upon her neck and shoulders and unveiled teats. I feasted on her limbs as her
eyes sparkled and I gave to her body little inflaming attouchements as she sank into sweet
rêverie and slowed the passage of time. More precisely, time seemed to pass very deliberately
upon the surface of her intensely dense body of divulgence.
The questions Venus©-~ñ~ had raised with her ©Webbed Body© were questions which had
been asked before and the fact that we are in a sexually post-viral climacteric position today
seemed to Venus©-~ñ~ and I to be the accepted wisdom of most sex missionaries. At the
same time there is some kind of lock, administratively or psychologically, that keeps
everyone and everything in step toward more techno-potent development and expansion
while original and creative nonsex VR programming declines.
71
An analogy to the breasts of the Venus©-~ñ~de Lespugue in the collection du Musée de
l’Homme in Paris is to me pertinent in the way my own art slowed like fluffy feathers as it
brushed up against the astral teats of capital surplus. Technological societies are governed by
this process of the corpulent body, and not only in the posterior sense of the word, but also in
the sense of the critical mounds which when teased beyond a particular poise, yield their tips
in non-restraint. Is this market inevitability, cultural imperialism, governmental deficiency,
scholastic bankruptcy, moral indifference, political cynicism, or their equivalent force of
inertia, or simply immense indifference and the smooth power of listlessness?
V.L.S. Love
Technologies
oaoao
So I wondered, what would the latest VEsite Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems had in development
be like exactly?
~ñ~
As I gazed in a sort of religious terror at the sexual fury of the goddess inherent in the
feminine body, I began to see that the sex menu in America was being reduced to a limited
number of simplistic formulas, a censored culture was developing and at the same time
television had replaced sex for a lot of the people.
I kept gazing down at the resplendent body of Venus©-~ñ~ as my mind played these turbid
tricks on me.
The more creamy assertion at VLS is that the social body needs a broad unveiling of prurient
immersion resources to begin producing a new sexual technological environment; one that
reflects sexual diversity and intellectual depth.
72
Venus©-~ñ~ is the bread of this deviation. She oversteps the threshold of critical flesh with
respect to information control and the transformation process of amorous history and sexual
politics. The things that Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems brings you are as changeable, as unstable,
as illusory, as nameless, as unnamable, as fraudulent, as unpredictable as the discourse that
makes you up.
Take for example, the Love-making Elements - which have been a part of ancient and arcane
sex lore since its inception in pre-historic times. Special VLS LOVE© software link them
with Venus©-~ñ~ love-making contraptions for optimal outcome. The following list of
disclosures came to me from the unclassified Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Venus©-~ñ~ de
La Roses’s "Spiral Sex Manual":
Time: Sunrise.
Season: Spring.
Angel: Michael.
Jewel: Topaz.
Incense: Galbanum.
73
Plants: Frankencense, myrrh, pansy, primrose, vervain, violet,
yelp.
Log: Aspen.
Animals: Bird.
Rules: Energy, feeling, hotness, passion, blood, juice, life, pleasure, prophylactic destroying
purifications, bonfires, abode fires, candle flames, orbs,
naked volcanoes, eruptions, discharges.
Time: Noon.
Season: Summer.
Colors: Red, gold, crimson, orange, white of the sun’s noon gay.
Angel: Ariel.
Name of the South Wind: Notus.
Sense: Vision.
Jewel: Discharge Opal.
Incense: Olibanum.
74
Animals: Conflagration-breathing serpents, lions, horses when their horns inflame sparks.
Rules: Emotions, feelings, fornications, firmness, daring, torment, the sea nymph, the spout,
drowsiness, kitty, streams, and rivers, springs and wells, intuition, the unconscious proclivity,
the womb, breeding, fertility.
Time: Twilight.
Season: Autumn.
Tools: Cup.
Angel: Raphael.
Name of the West Wind: Zephyrs.
Sense: Taste.
Jewel: Aquamarine.
Incense: Myrrh.
Log: Wind-swept.
75
Gods: Delay, Ea, Llyr, Manannan, Osiris, Neptune, Poseidon.
Time: Midnight.
Tool: Perfume.
Angel: Gabrielle.
Sense: Touch.
Incense: Stores.
Plants: ivy, grains: baroque obelisk, can, rich man, sack, seed of chaff.
Log: Oak.
76
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEX ETHER©: Direction: Heart and
periphery,
Sense: Grasp.
Plant: Mistletoe.
Fleshly: Bewilderment.
°~ñ~°
+[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[-[+
77
desire for me.
Hence, we laid in an agony of wantonness and impatience, full of expectations and with
loving submissions pouring out between our legs like some vast waterfall. I looked to the
ornate carpet and was thinking ornate thoughts to keep from orgasm. I followed a line of
golden thread with my eyes through its complex design as it continued a curvaceous path and
developed into regular designations of the VLS LOVE© logo, a lustrous pinkies cunx. I
permitted my mind to stray as I kept up the cyclic in and out movements which we had
established after first according our breathing and our pulse beat. Already I could sense the
rich void of repletion we would luxuriate in afterwards, lying like drunks in each others arms,
driven to siesta like rams to a corral.
I turned her slightly towards me and loosened the sails, feeling her draw breath, feeling her
bottom heel and strain and then gather ballast with our shared ecstasy as its helmsman. I only
halfway held off, so I aimed to the right and intoned: "quipoise". A shining path extended to
the right. I stroked to the left and intoned: "emeanor". A route extended to the left, and I
attained periodic scratch marks. I crossed my clasp and intoned: "orbearance" and a path
appeared perpendicular to the others. Together they formed a co-ordinate system with me in
the center as an egg, dividing space into an indistinct sprouting grid. I could sense that she
realized that she had never known what love was, and what it could be with me, and she
became terrified to feel so much at my mercy. To surrender, to yield, to abdicate and receive -
it all made her feel dangerously vulnerable.
Or so I imagined.
Regardless, she found herself trembling under my ravishment, trembling at her good fortune
in being, after all, able to plunge deeply into a nexus without constraint - she who had felt
herself overused and empty of all emotion, living only in the spare parts of other peoples
fantasies.
Skillfully, I wasn’t about to let loose yet. I continued to torment her with my sexual stamina
as I drew love diagrams onto her heaving breast with my eyes. First I looked to the east and
drew a horizontal diagram from left to right and intoned: "to the flowers". Then I drifted a
shining line straight south and then west, forming a branch aligned with the co-ordinate
system of both nipples. Then I went to the south and drew a vertical diagram upwards and
intoned: "esplendent" and continued the line west and north again. Then I went with my
tongue to the west and drew a vertical dilly downwards and intoned: "ove".
I continued the line with my tongue north and east then to the north again and drew a
horizontal dilettante with my eye lashes from right to left and intoned: "ata". I continued the
line east and south, so that it formed an unbroken quadrilateral around her slit. I then visualize
how her crack projects two copies, one on the floor and one in the air, so that the space
enclosed is a perfect slab. Two boas, perpendicular to the first, appear and interlock to form a
strong compartment with each kisser divided into four squares, alternating black and white
with a total 24 boas, which correspond to the 24 sex permutation combinations I had just
performed.
78
I then moaned softly into her ear: Around me flames ones and zeros, and my column flickers
glistening current!
Next, I flash-visualized the role of the female and her tenet of renewal and restoration in the
grandiose sense. It was she who made things happen, made shit happen, made things grow
with her canon of fertility and I flared up, and straddled a pillar of numbers quickly counting
up from 0 to 555.
The consequences were serpentine as there is more to VRsex than persistence. Now she was
really flailing, her fragility made all the more striking by the tension, the electrical current
flowing from between her legs like wind whipping through the foliage of a tall tree. The
imbroglio produced by the fathomless sexual movement which we were undergoing put to
question several fundamental assumptions about companionship and refinement and the
delineation of........
"Mon cul!!!!!", I roared with the wanton cry of delight of a Pelagsian fuck, and with my aim
gathering up dolphin eggs, the whole force of me came forth into her just as she also intensely
climaxed.
I felt like someone walking an extenuated rainbow. I wept and screamed with all of my might
as if to rid myself in one cathartic expenditure of the negative sex incubus of past
disappointments which had held me entranced for so long. The delicious copula of our lust,
and the abandonment to our virulent passion was wholly commendable and I felt that a new
path through the future lay before me, stamped by the sign of the Ram.
I nodded in accord. We had worked not just for pleasure but for ecstasy, not for the merely
satisfactory but for the superb, and this is what seemed unique about our love. It was without
sanctions, without measure, and wholly paired. I could not envisage it ever being concluded
because the experience had been so superlative and had marked us both irremediably. The
imp was out of the bottle, I thought.
I finally got up, washed Venus©-~ñ~ off, and treated myself to a long hot shower. It was
agony to separate. Insight is so much more important than physical beauty, I thought, as I
lathered myself thoroughly - lingering a twirling and probing finger at my rectum’s
embouchement. Yet Venus©-~ñ~ has both. She has allowed me to rediscover a state of joyful
nonchalance in the face of things. It was amazing to me that she could have come from Paris,
the capital of fashion in ideas and of superficiality. I was on fire! Yet I was so exhausted by
the sexual waves she had been sending me, the sheer weight of her sexuality, that I buckled
under from her erotic pressures and went into a frenzy of vehement capitulation.
Venus©-~ñ~ is superior though a trifle top-heavy. I can only snipe at her with my humor,
which is the weapon of my insight. I pay for refusals to abdicate to her awesome femaleness.
79
I had been living with deep desire mingled with remorse and a deep-seated sense of
misgiving. In ancient times human sacrifice was concocted to placate this particular X
incubus. Think of the hundreds of immodest boys and girls that had been required to placate
the Cretan minotaur. I was hungry for an antidote also, but of a less infuriated sort. I knew
full well that the sexual act is a psychic one, that the bone and flesh enact only what the
psyche directs and that there would be full psychological evaluations of my Venus©-~ñ~lOve
encounters. Venus©-~ñ~ had been truly sensitive in the preparation and care involved
concerning my erection, which she would, only in her own sweet time, demolish. There had
been harmony in desire, and unity in building the network of powerful love sympathies which
rewarded us with dual orgasms.
~ñ~
Yes, the hate had dulled and I had succumbed to love. Indeed, Venus©-~ñ~ had released my
tears.
I must seem unbearably prosy. I’m sorry. This often happens to me after experiencing passion
in such an unrequitable way - as if there were no floor to it. Loving Venus©-~ñ~ was like
loving some Graeco-Roman statue in a museum. The whole damn feeling called my desire
into question! It smelled of Vedanta!
As I toweled down, I could not calm myself and continued this feverish disquisition upon my
experience. My soul, my heart, is full of the sense, the sensibility, the sentiment that
formulated true romantic love and all of its narcissisms, its Don Juans. I wanted to live in the
contingent, not the eternal - in prose rather than poetry.
It is mad to see my love for Venus©-~ñ~ as a full commitment and not as a transaction. I was
being eaten away by unreciprocal sentiments.
80
I started to powder and dress myself and to try to put it all out of my mind. Hadn’t I already
seen that the old-style couple is simply a fortuitous arrangement designed by lust. Yet I felt
the prick that was triggered by my desire for such a pairing - a desire as fragile as fine wine or
a water-color, both composites, both which can achieve aesthetic value, and be beautiful in a
geometrical way like a bird’s nest. For the first time in a long while I was feeling optimistic
about love. Or was I just getting myself excited about contrapuntal fucking and about lying
about all day kissbound in honeysuckle toil.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~][][][][][][][][][][][][][
From my wardrobe the party had supplied itself with costumes and masks for our
prenocturnal revel on the VEnet. And a gallant cortège it must have seemed too!
Venus©-~ñ~, now tremulous and expectant as a naive girl going to her first ball, begged me
to take good care of her, and indeed was in such a flutter that I had to take her in my arms and
kiss her lips before she was able to recover herself. Even then she was only completely
restored when she opened the emplacement of her robe and allowed me to take infantile
liberties with her breasts.
So we passed down cyberbluff and through the classic gates, across a deserted point fringed
with Palladian colonnades and headed towards Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s celebrated
GOAT ISLAND.
GOAT ISLAND had become the venerable VE site for such seXmagic, the place where seX
data vaunted its vigor, endurance, and its massive proportions.
The VE goat-guide shook its great tasseled codpiece in the air as if to beckon us to come
closer, to the sounds of little sucking sounds. He immediately outlined for us the working
premise of his goat VE:
~°°°°~
81
1.Do not give opinions or advice unless you are asked.
2.Do not tell your troubles to others unless you are sure they want to hear them.
3.When in anther’s lair, show him your asshole, or else do not go there.
4.If a guest in your lair annoys you, fuck him or her roughly and without mercy.
5.Do not make sexual advances unless you are given the mating signals.
6.Do not fuck that which does not belong to you unless it is an onus to the other person and
cries out to be relieved.
7.Acknowledge the power of great sex if you have employed it successfully to obtain your
desires. If you deny the power of great sex after having called upon it with success, you will
lose yours.
8.Do not complain about anything to which you need not subject yourself.
9.Do not abuse little children.
10.Do not fuck non-human animals unless you are snake pounding.
11.When fucking in open territory, bother with no one. If someone buggers you against your
will, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, fuck him.
~°°°°~
82
4.GOAT represents sexiness to those who deserve it instead of love wasted on ingrates.
6.GOAT represents responsibility to the responsible instead of interest in sexual gold diggers.
7.GOAT represents man as just another animal–sometimes better, more often worse than
those that walk on all-fours–who, because of his "divine spiritual and intellectual
development," has become the most vicious animal of all.
8.GOAT represents physical, mental, and emotional gratification.
~°~
I felt a bit apprehensive at first as I was still cobwebbed in the drowsiness I had entered after
the afternoon rendezvous with Venus©-~ñ~, and I had promised myself that I would make
sure our relationship stayed ephemeral. I was getting in too deeply over my head.
However, I had never known a greater beauty or a more massive intellect than she - the gentle
but perfectly assured rhythms of her caresses - her reassurance of my deep felt anxiety and
lack of confidence - all this made it seem more difficult to do than to think.
And so the party proceeded, stopping to refresh ourselves with some fabulously altered rose
hip ice teas. Some gorgeous electronic music started to play, overlaid with trills, appogiaturas,
grace-notes and sex gurgles.
The music’s insistent techno beat expressed what we all were feeling. We were being drawn
in by a delicate work of art, as tender as a lake at twilight, and it made me think of a number
of beautiful unfinished things, like little scraps of poetry, plucked rosebuds, and fiery love-
affairs.
We encountered then a most enigmatic list of links which we were required to penetrate
correctly if we wished to advance further into the coveted panopticon at its core.
~ñ~
83
SELECT
~ñ~
°°°°
ACT-UP AIDS-L
act-up-request@world.std.com
ADDICT-L (mature discussion sex related topics)
LISTSERV@KENTVM.KENT.EDU
AIDS-STATUE-L
aids-tat-request@wubios.wustl.edu
alternates-request@ns1.rutgers.edu
amazons-request@math.uio.no
Majordomo@cs.colorado.edu
AERIAL-L (bisexuality)
arena-l@brownvm.bitnet
AUGLBC-L (AT: Gay, Lees, and By Comm.)
LISP-SERV@AMERICAN.EDU
BA-sappy-request@labrys.mti.sgi.com
Chicago BEARS (Gay and Bi men)
84
bears-request@sidcc.COM
LISTSERV@URIACC.URI.EDU
EURO-QUEER-STUDIES
majordomo@queernet.org
FL-MOTS-REQUEST@pts.mot.com
LISTSERV@VM.USC.EDU
GENET-REQUEST@queernet.org
gaynet@athena.mit.edu
glbpoc-request@geri.pa.dec.com
Slant (gay South Asians)
shush-request@husc3.harvard.edu
85
LAMB (GB Kentucky)
Finger SERV@UKCC.UKY.EDU
PC-MOOTS-REQUEST@agora.rain.com
QSTUDY-L (Les, gay, Bi studies)
LISTSERV@UBVM.CC.BUFFALO.EDU
majadomo@queenet.org
recovery@wvnvm.wvnet.edu
Sapporo-request@mc.lcs.mit.edu
TRANSGENDER
LISTSERV@BROWNVM.BROWN.EDU
TRIPLES
triples-request@hal.com
~ñ~°°°°°~ñ~
Our diminutive group seemed to have grown a little bored trying to navigate this cybernetic
enigma. We had divorced the second from the first definition and allowed a situation to
develop where the customary sexual beliefs, social forms, and material traits have nothing to
do with sex knowledge, let alone admirable sex itself.
86
A spontaneous buzz started going round our group. People of such refined company, as these,
are often at a loss when it comes to making their own decisions. This general murmur only
ceased when Venus©-~ñ~ astounded us with her decisiveness.
Indeed watching her flick that finger around the computer menue aroused my drowsing male
member and it began to stand up like a stalk of fresh asparagus, of which Venus©-~ñ~ took
notice. She continued to tease and tickle and flip and flatter it with a most wonderful sagacity
with her whips tip, and while occupying one hand in this delightful way, she put the other
under my behind and insinuated a suave and active finger in a way that I experienced a
glorious brown sensation which now has become part of the way I dress and think.
Venus©-~ñ~ then vibrated her mask off her face, laughed, and whispered an incantation as
we passed through the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ARTAMAZONS VRsite unscathed,
passing through the first cybergate to:
~ñ~
SELECTED
~ñ~
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s
GOAT ISLAND
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{xxx~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/=/
87
"I just wanted to make you writhe, that’s all", she said laughingly, and then went silent as we
were entering the domain of the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems UNLOVED©; a syzygy of the
male and female affect which canceled each other out. Here all of our saturated moods sank a
bit. However Venus©-~ñ~, now sad, pensive and resigned, was more beautiful than ever in a
plain dark blue suit, a golden wig and a new set of pearls. All I was wearing now was a
Chinese robe of yellow watered silk. Underneath I was quite nude.
We all continued to cement our ties of affection to this Seductress by overcoming our fears of
loneliness and felt like heroes doing so.
~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
The entrance to GOAT ISLAND was magnificent - with an airy scallop shell suspended by
some delicate tracery hanging from two dicks of the great Extremity God. The possibilities
for distraction seemed endless, and so we sallied forth as into a great gaming salOOn,
disengaging ourselves gently from each other to more personally experience the general
melee awaiting us. And so with many whispers and amorous murmurs, we advance - our
spirits flurried.
As we entered GOAT ISLAND a charming nymph-guide appeared before us, lifted up a piece
of tapestry, and led us through a wee door on which was written :
Meet the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young
which traces back to an ancient fertility based Goat Cult. Aspects of this Goat cult have been
absorbed into GOAT ISLAND systems.
~ñ~
We took note as we passed into a dim passage consisting of row after row of peep-holes!
Are you sure it won’t be a bore?, I asked Venus©-~ñ~.
"How could it?", she said. "What sights to be seen! What frolics and romps! What bagatelles,
Freudians and folasteries!" For the VE was full of roués and rouées, all giving themselves up
to their specialties, and enjoying themselves immensely among wonderful accouterments.
88
We were enraptured, especially by the scene in a virtual room fitted up like a dainty stable,
where a plentifully bosomed women and a mammothly endowed young stud were on all
fours, their necks fastened in a stanchion, impersonating two cows.
But we were delighted most of all by a young man lying on his back in a stark white-walled
gallery, his shaved and tattooed head fitted under the foaming and billowing dimpled derriere
of a middle aged nymph - another Anadyomene she seemed - while a second nymph was
palming and persuading his nervous and erect chocolate covered member with graceful
fingers and agile tongue. These fanciful endeavors were soon rewarded with a simultaneous
success - a double climax complete with dramatic éclat.
As a low hum of bees absorbed us, I began thinking about how a good part of the sexual-
cultural mobilization necessary to change the situation today has to come from the field of
cybersex plays. Europe’s sex pantomime-operettas are the most natural laboratory for such
sexual experimentation with the new media, where at least part of Europe’s new erotic
environment can be researched.
Just as Pagan cultures celebrated the joys of the physical body, understanding of the physical
human potential is a vital step.
Next, the nymph-guide told us to select an immersion event below and pay homage to the
nine-phased mOOn. "Your avatar will undergo the process of immersive initiation.", she said.
~ñ~
SELECT
~ñ~
°°°°
89
Anal Lover
Backseat Strut
Bubble Butt
Anal Intruder
New Ends
Penetrating Thoughts
Twin Seats
Fat Ends
Anal Squeeze
Taboo Zoo
Sodomania
Anal Orgy
Gazonga God
Candyman
Anal Europe
Roman Hole
90
Hollywood Butt
Bun Busters
Mating Pot
Deep In Trouble
Class Ass
Anal Encounter
Holed Up Deep
Bun Bust
Rearranged
Smell Cave
Butt Freak
Anal Queen for a Day
An Orifice Orgy
Backyard Boogie
Back in the Crack
91
Between Pink Cheeks
Hershey Highway
Berlin Butt
Anal Rampage
Bonanza Booty
Mauvais de Noir
Backing In
The Buttnicks
Butt Motel
Butt Bites
Smooth as Silk
Dark Entrance
Blazing Butt
Amazing Tails
Hoping Holes
Peach Jammeromma
Butt Bangers Ball II
92
Booty Ho
Boot Me
Deep Cheeks IX
Trash Ass
Sweet Puncheon
Blistering Tight
The A-Team
Rumphumper Holiday
Straight A
You Can Bet Your Buns, Honey!
Anal Intent
Incredible Ass
Bun Legends
93
Brown Chutes
Backpackers
Chic Cheeks
Rear Shot
Cape Rear
Bun Busters VI
Anal Adventures
Boomer Butt
Knockin da Booty
Bottoms Up!
My French Hutch
Hollywood
Blazing Butts III
Anal Attraction
Butt Naked
Moon God
94
Hurts So Good
Hard To Enter
Anal Thunder
Anus and Andy
Rear Entry
Anal Attitude
Backdoor Loophole
Anal Al
Anal Inferno
Rear Window
Cornhole Revelry
Tail Gunners
Hoop Shoot
Kinky Punters
The Assbrators Back!
Heavy Poopin
95
Full Moon Swoon
Butt Out!
Anal Fixation
La Can Can
Fudge For Sale
~~~~~~~~~~~}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{090090900909090909090909090909090
~ñ~
SELECTED
Rear Window
~ñ~
°°°°
What we were encountering at Rear Window - to the sound of cooing cries, smacking lips and
uttered naughties, all under a very blue and high sky - were two goat-men lightheartedly
buggering each other on a golden and red colored ornamental carpet. The carpet was laid out
handsomely in a most enchanting unnatural forest surrounded by a sapphire sea. Gathering his
silk nightdress about him, one of the goat-men tiptoed quietly towards me to lead the way.
96
He said, "Look here. This is the Rear Window Thunderbolt. The Rear Window Thunderbolt is
a mutation of, and can be used interchangeably with, the Rear Window Centigram Ritual. It’s
purpose is to imbue cybernetic sexual motivation and momentum to the participants, whilst
banishing unwanted memories at the same time. Please bend over, as it is highly
recommended for Opening an Orifice.
First inhale.
Grasp the Rear Window wand and start sucking it just beyond the head-hole. Draw in the first
half of the Rear Window Thunderbolt. Simultaneously, visualize a blue sphere lighting up
between your rear cheeks, sending a thread of light to the point between your balls. Now
vibrate "~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Oui iiiiiiiii..." in a very high-pitched tone until
the lungs are emptied.
Inhale.
Trace a straight line from the head-hole to either Rear Window. Visualize a yellow sphere
lighting up in the throat of your ass and sending a thread of light to the second point. VR-
vibrate "~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~eeeee Oui eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……"
Trace a second line from a selected Rear Window and perambulate it. Visualize a red orbit in
the center of the cavity, sending its light to the third Rear Window. Vibrate
"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~aaaaaaaaaa Oui aaaaaaaaaaaa" in a tone lower than the previous
vibration.
Inhale.
Trace a third line from a selected Rear Window. Visualize a purple ball in the genital area,
sending its light to the fourth point. Vibrate
"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" in a lower tone.
Inhale.
Trace the fourth line from a selected Rear Window. Visualize a green sphere entering the
rump window and disappearing into the ground, sending its filament to the fifth Rear Window
point. Vibrate "~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~wwwwoooooooooooooo Oui ooooooooo".
Do not yet draw to the extremity pole of the fist Rear Window! Instead, remain completely
97
motionless and hold your breath for as long as possible. Concentrate your attention solely on
the sound of your blood rushing through your carotid arteries. Know that the rumbling you
hear is the eternal explosion of the Rear Window Thunderbolt.
Continue to hold the Rear Window image and sound in your mind while holding your breath.
When you finally must breathe, envision the thunderbolt fragmenting with a tremendous roar
and sending sparks into and through you."
~ñ~
When I did as I had been told, the goat-man turned his beautiful eyes on me interrogatively,
but said nothing more.
I laid back on a thick pile of magnificent oriental carpets and the space gradually condensed
itself harmoniously around me. The moment prolonged itself through the wines, to the coffee,
cigars, brandies, marcs and armagnacs without anything indecorous having taken place. I was
on my guard against the spuriously romantic; dangerously easy to succumb to in a place like
this.
His dark saturine eyes shifted, as if reading my thoughts. I realized I was in the grip of an
infatuation which goes on and on. Strange to have lost one’s taste for another species. Then
he said, "You are in the throes of a mild depression which never leaves you".
Yes, I have every right to be, I thought in my typically ambiguous and Delphic way.
At that very instant Venus©-~ñ~’s face morphed from out of the goat-man’s form and smiled
up at me. A brilliant moon poured its molten light into the lakes of her eyes turned ink-black
or quicksilver according to angle.
I cannot resist the waves of tenderness I feel each time we meet. An entire life could be
passed there. A life full of thrilling convulsions of pleasure. Among the sexy waterlilies of her
eyes, one could lie or drowse or read, lulled by the water-music of her Roman well.
Since we have met I don’t think I have made any decisions or thought any thoughts without
mentally referring to her first.
I drew a joyous slow breath; untrue, but beautiful, which is true to the fundamental
melancholiness of life.
98
~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
Suddenly I found myself at the till of a tiny boat scudding through the mountainous surge of a
violent ocean, tossing among huge waves whose foam curled behind and before me into
fantastic faces of Medusas, naked maidens drowning in snakes, and heraldic beasts opposing
me with an air of menacing furry. At my feet a terrified kitten was mewing and rubbing itself
up against my leg. With every wave that broke the kitty was in hazard of being swept
overboard and carried away.
I was in agony over the chance of seeing the kitty fight for her life and so I bent over and tried
to rescue it from its peril. I seized it by its tail and lifted it up, but by spitting and scratching
me, the twisting pussy lurched itself free and fell over the side into the raging sea. The sound
of her final scream for help hung heavy in the salty sea air.
But just like Uranus, who was castrated by Chronos, and whose severed genitals were thrown
still frothing and writhing into the sea (from which the foam they generated gave birth to
sweet Aphrodite) - this twisting pussy too gave birth to lovelier (if twisted) things.
~ñ~
The scene had changed and I found myself on a sunstruck, ocular island - flat as a pancake
and full of weird shadows. Little patches of meaning floated up from the vertigo of
nothingness around the edges. Despite my misgivings, I was close to acquiring that
penetrating vision which turns people into masks, into caricatures with names. Besides me the
pussy laid, stretching and washing herself with her tongue, for she was covered in ruby blood
that gushed out from between her legs. A wave of horror passed over me. Understanding that
somehow I had lost my immortal soul to this feline creature, I rose up to move with
unspeakable perturbation.
Although it was barely dawn I set out on a lonely pilgrimage to reunite with Venus©-~ñ~ and
my friends, though sunk in gloomy lethargy. I thought to blow out the candles I found there
and relight them, as if to mark a distinct pause in the proceedings and I realized that I was
obliged to traverse that respondent island to search out my absolution. I had just as well brave
the light of reality as suffer for a moment more in this digital dungeon. Yet, I believe that
indeed, I did love Venus©-~ñ~, and my love and proclivity soon endowed me with life.
As I dawdled beneath the open silk robe, my left hand arranged its fingers in the form of a
hollow organ which tries to resist, but then offers itself, opens up, and produces the vigorous
body of Venus©-~ñ~. She falls upon me and crushes me against the sand that had already
been stained by more than a million happy voyagers. With a blissful and gargantuous rush of
broth I was swept back to where I had begun and found myself in pleasant reunion with
Venus©-~ñ~ and the crew. We all embraced hardly in responsive and nervous excitement.
99
I was visibly ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~vibrating.
~ñ~
Soon we left the ornamental gardens behind and set out for what appeared to be a promenade
where we soon found ourselves threading the maze of a gigantic and gloomy woods. Great
oaks and beeches cast their shadows all around us and there were ancient willows writhing
themselves into the shapes of prehistoric women. Thick roots strewn the ground like great
horrid snakes. It was quite dark in what now had become an almost Doré-like landscape.
At long last we spied a little illumination coming from a small pavilion in the middle of the
darkest, most melancholy, and pique part of the forest.
We went up to a window shaped in the form of a uterus andpeeked in and was at once
stricken with amazement. Against one of the walls stood a sturdy garrote in which a beautiful,
nude, pink pig was strapped. The second goat-man was busy loving him with suave gestures
and reciting a poem about the thousand varieties of desire.
We had a perfectly lovely time observing him and praised highly his artistry. Venus©-~ñ~
expressed praise as well; which meant a great deal to the programmers, coming as it did from
such a great connoisseur.
When it was all over we took time to refresh ourselves with some beautiful pâté-de-foie
sandwiches and a bottle of Montrachet. Our makeup had suffered terribly, but our spirits were
high as we gave each other droll accounts of this love affair which we had just seen between
the two bewitching creatures. I mentioned nothing concerning the pussy incident, as I was
still shaking from the affair.
100
Part IV
Lessons in Pink°~ñ~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We explored one imaginative VE after the next and every excursion proved entertaining. I
luxuriated in the sentiment of my affection for Venus©-~ñ~ and the diversity with which I
was moving. For example, Venus©-~ñ~lOve System Operetta Hole VE Theatre des Mains,
was a billygoat’s little playhouse which projected an elegance altogether attractive with
exquisite proportions : the walls spaced out by panels picturing holographic shapes of
amorous cupidons and caryatids, between which hung portiérs of dusty pink velvet
embellished with loops, tassels, fleurons and formalized heraldics. Lesbian figures engaged in
the most ambitious sexual postures imaginable.
The faux ceiling was softly domed and figured with wreaths and curlicues of heavenly cum
cream and everything was arranged in a most intimate way, for the pit had been closed
altogether. Although the floor sloped down revealing a discernable but minuscule nude
orchestra, all else seemed to indicate that a classical separation of audience and actors would
be maintained, but the stage was indeed so close as to give one the feeling of being part of
what was about to happen, and in fact when we and Venus©-~ñ~ arrived during the entr’acte,
we already were quite moved.
There had been a buzz of comment and criticism about what we had seen and done at GOAT
ISLAND with many expressions of appreciation, smiling retorts, suggestive grimaces and
imaginary ejaculations.
From behind the electronic curtain we could hear enticing sounds of playful slaps and
smothered laughter. Venus©-~ñ~ was delighted with everything.
The light had changed to a deep rose and I think I saw her for an instant cry, but she soon
changed her facial cast to one of sensitive intimacy. As the curtain parted it revealed an
enormously fat, bald-headed women on whose amber flesh a smooth pattern of mysterious
figures played.
I was immediately repelled, and I noticed that the rear lust of GOAT ISLAND had turned my
101
sensibility to the dryness of spilt blood. Empty, was I, of gracious gestures.
x~ñ~x
All of a sudden I was swept up in the System Operetta Hole. I reeled and fought furiously and
I repeated the commands I had learned -
I was caught up in the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s TeleseXual presencE web - the 1,000
aspects of the supreme Venus©-~ñ~lOve.
~ñ~
Once, for a period of about three months I hardly missed a morning of Venus©-~ñ~lOve sex;
always on waking I burst out with a new sexual idea yet.....
~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
~ñ~
102
Yes, I was free of System Operetta Hole for now, but I was also petrified after what had
occurred to me just then and before with the pussy, and I had only some wild fantasies to
protect me now.
In Ostic Land, computer networks and human beings take on a new sense of body and spirit.
In the wink of a pineal eye, every scrap is redefined from the multi-perspective point of view
of imaginary cybernetic space which Ostic Land facilitates.
This latest TeleseXual presencE perspective, this non-reality virtually, requires us to question
the legitimacy of our commonly held sexual tenets. Everything of the Mycenaean women
becomes eminently real at some point in time.
~ñ~
This unusual perspective returned our love to myth and analogical thinking. It is as if the
alchemical concept of égréore, a 3rd term that is established from two conjoining different
elements, has become the ruling concept in our life as the Ostic Land 3D software program
continues to create hybrids of ourselves and all that surrounds us. It is as if we have become
say, an Ostic Land virus, inside of everything and everyone.
In Ostic Land I can always trace a connection between my sexual condition and the condition
of artistic creation, which is so close as to approach identity, and yet so lOOse that I cannot
predicate a single important proposition. It is these considerations of Ostic Land which give
me pain when I am reproached by my permanent wish to produce sexual ecstasy
mechanically. I may fail this, but even if I do my failure is a thousand times greater than most
so-called artistic success.
I shall therefore base my Ostic Land remarks not so much on the observations which I have
myself made, and the magical love experiments which I have tried in Ostic Land, as on the
accepted classical methods of producing that energized enthusiasm which is the lever that
moves Venus©-~ñ~. The Greeks say that there are three methods of discharging the genial
secretion. They thought perhaps that certain nuts tended to secrete it, but this I do not believe
without qualms. However, parsimony apart, I find it in my experience in Ostic Land that it is
useless to flog a spent snake. There are times when I am absolutely bereft of even one drop of
this elixir. Nothing will restore it but more Ostic Land.
103
On the other hand, sometimes when after a severe spell of Ostic Land copulation, where I
have been drOOping with physical fatigue - perhaps sprawling on the floor, too tired to move
hand or fOOt - the occurrence of an Ostic Land fantasy has restored me to perfect intensity
and energy, and the working out of the fantasy has actually got rid of the aforesaid physical
fatigue.
The belief of Ostic Land is that the containment mentality of our universal VRsexual thinking
must change. Ostic Land is an enticingly hidden radical program, containing as it does, a
cosmology of saturated sex spirits whose open-minded nonpossesiveness offers the user
certain satisfaction through sexual knowledge.
In Ostic Land, all personal considerations must be banished utterly. Of the qualifying tests
there is no necessity to speak; it is sufficient to say that the practiced in Ostic Land have
always known how to ensure virility. It is needless to insist on a similar quality in the
programming; the sexual excitement must be intense to transform Ostic Land into its exacting
equivalent.
~ñ~
Yea, I was getting free from System Operetta Hole, but I felt as dumb as a button in here and
so I was anxious to see whether this would be a painful or pleasurable escape from Ostic
Land. Venus©-~ñ~ had again vanished and been reprogrammed as a set of tempting melons.
In some funny way this fresh, beautiful afternoon was turning dim. I was feeling quite
crestfallen at losing again such an adorable mammal as she and began requesting her
restoration in halting locutions and with much syntactical awkwardness. When no reply was
transferred by the System Operetta Hole program, my imagination took fire, my aplomb
returned, and my tongue smoothed out.
I shout with joy and wonder when I cum. I fall upon my knees in speechless adoration of the
moon; I hide my eyes in awe from the dexterous Venus©-~ñ~.
I was next placed in a TeleseXual presencE CybersexBall in which the music is the choir
celestial, the wine the wine of the Graal, and one’s sexual partner the Infinite and Eternal
Most High, but I had been there just last week, so I asked to go to the TeleseXual presencE
Moulin de la Galette program. This VE requires your whole soul aflame and your whole
prick concentrated on the transubstantiation of it! But first I hit pause.
The melons looked rather inert by comparison to the unrestrained Venus©-~ñ~lOve lover I
104
had known, so I checked the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VE Menu for some assistance and
under the configuration file read: Universal Love Universal
I stabbed blindly at Universal Love Universal and hyper-transported my way the Hades out
of there.
Shot, I was, like a burning Universal Love shell, into the flaming, spicy Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems Spanish Cybersex Program - out of that bloodless Venus©-~ñ~less high-technology
Pandemonium I had entered.
Indeed I was returning to the piquant lunar realm of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc.
activities, and there rejoined with a reconfigured Venus©-~ñ~. Next we entered together into
some very heavy, lubricious action in
°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°
Spasmodicly PROCEED
Oui ° Oui
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~~~~~~~~~~~}{
105
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MMFFHH!
Me Voy!! AAH!
Como Me reconforta!!
Matame el gusanillo!!
Esto ya es demasiado!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Me voy!
Vin, esa Polla falsa debe de ser la ma’s grande del planeta! Tocala! Huelela!
106
Lame la; Qué tal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MMMMH!
Es de verdod!
Te va la marcha, eh?!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Siiiii!
FLUM-FLUM-FLUM.
Aaaaah.
Me vas a romper!
Oui!
Mierda.
Encantado!! UUMPFF!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~M-M-Me corrooooh!
Espra! Sacamela y correte en mi boca!! Mas, mas pollas, muchas mas! Ooooh!
Esto es incretble!
Oh, dios, me encanta que os corrais sobre mi, en mi boca, mis ojos, me tetas, siiii!!
Asi, asi jodeme sin piedad, cabrones! No puedes ni imaginarte lo que son mogollon de
sementales banandote en esperma, en los vestuarios del equipo durante el descansojun partido
de beneficencia!
Yo me los beneficio!!!
107
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Waw!!!
~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~
~ñ~
Inside of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Corrida de Toros© Venus©-~ñ~ and I (and our fellow
party goers who had joined in) had undergone a shattering experience. By Venus©-~ñ~
overloading my representational capacity to the point of collapsing realistic depiction into a
non-representational representation, the essentialism of my previous romantic feelings and
general social character - which was presumed to be founded on good authority - took on a
loosened function which favored verbal mutation. In her oral openness, Venus©-~ñ~ took
revenge on my ideas of Venus©-~ñ~.
In my relationship with her, attempts were made to paralyze the romantic and the
communicative function. The objective of Corrida de Toros© then was not true
communications, but self-love, self-acceptance.
Here Venus©-~ñ~ became the space on which all the quotations that make up love are
inscribed without any of them being lost. Venus©-~ñ~ is simply that which holds together in
a single field all the traces by which love talk is constituted during the sexual act(s).
108
°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
Here my Spanish caravan stopped and I got out and dismissed the chauffeur but she refused to
leave me.
"Come", was all she said.
So, we walked through thick woods to an antediluvian dwelling, where we were greeted in
silence by a gentlewoman who wore an exposed sword dripping with blood. On satisfying
her, we were passed through a corridor to a colonnade, where another sentinel awaited us.
She, after an examination of my Venus©-~ñ~penis software, proceeded to offer me a palace
gown with the insignia ofVenus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. and a garter belt and mantle - the
former of red silk, the latter of blue velvet lined with cherry silk.
"It is about to begin," whispered a TRICKSTER nurse. She was dressed in a garment of
pinkish watered-silk, lined with erotically appealing images elaborately embroidered in soft,
tawny colors. In the entryway were four semi-naked TRICKSTER ladies, busily bent over,
de-robing. In a third room I found that a cortege of TRICKSTERs had formed, made up
totally of nude TRICKSTER women, and I joined in with it. There were roughly twenty
TRICKSTERs in all.
Passing a final guardian we reached the penis enrollee, at whose entrance stood a young
woman, dressed in innocent robes of white silk embroidered with gold, red and blue flowers.
She sprayed us with flower buds as we passed by.
At each rounded corner of the room was a banner, bearing my unconcealed frontal-image, and
from the top of the room sprang a canopy of peach silk, wherein were figured in gold my
pubic hair. As the nude TRICKSTER dames became installed, suddenly a bell tinkled in the
archive. Instantly all rose. The VE ports opened at a trumpet peal and a harbinger advanced;
followed by an Exalted TRICKSTER Priestess.
This Eminent TRICKSTER Priestess, a splendidly bouncing woman, passed near me with a
mirror. Her tail was borne by two TRICKSTERs. All this while an unseen calliope played
harmonizing sounds of exquisite, yet robust, taste.
I felt a sufferable panic as I sensed the closure of the VE port by the TRICKSTER nurse. She
next drew her sword, and went up and down the aisle, chanting exorcisms at me and swinging
her great TRICKSTER sword above her head. All the women present then drew their
TRICKSTER swords and faced me, holding the points high, then slashing down through the
109
air from left to right.
This part of the programming appeared endless and I began to sweat profusely (I had heard of
some women’s wish for liberation from the maudlin manipulative mythologies constructed by
men around them).
At last, a nude, well-built blonde TRICKSTER with very short hair - resembling Joan of Arc -
appeared; bearing an urn from which she sanctified me with her juices.
Now the Preeminent TRICKSTER began a litany in rhythmic line. Something about the
pantheistic fascination the male artist has with woman’s bodies as a source of creative energy.
At each response she touched my prick in a peculiar manner and at each fifth she kissed my
two orbs. The twenty-first was a complete squeeze.
Then the chime tinkled in the archive; and she split.
Next, the Excessive TRICKSTER Priestess appeared and knelt before me and presented me
with a horn-shaped cup of whitish liquid. I then was given an empty flask curiously shaped to
imitate a phallus. I knelt opposite her, and poured from the cup this liquid into the flask.
Now all the TRICKSTER dames and hamadryads began a long litigation and I was poured
wine from another flask. The nude, well-built blonde TRICKSTER then gave the flask to an
attendant, who served it to the other TRICKSTER women.
But this was no conventional wine. It was of a rich fiery opal in which flames of light danced
and shook, and its aroma was musty. No sooner had I drunk of it than I began quivering with
startling perturbation. I looked down at my member, and saw that it was similarly affected.
With the drinking of the potion the blonde TRICKSTER sang gleefully, then danced in such a
way that she seemed to be tracing the patterns of a fantastic blossom of abundance; her four
parted lips instigating a shower of glistening silt to drop from above.
This beautiful TRICKSTER moved round continuously, and the flask was passed and rubbed
and fingered. This ended in the exhaustion of the blonde TRICKSTER, who fell swooned.
Other TRICKSTERs immediately took the flask and put it to their lips.
Then the blonde TRICKSTER moved about stately and embraced me, unloosing the
cumbersome ceremonial robe which I wore, while the organ thundered forth majestic
harmonies.
It was at this part of the ceremony that things began to really happen to me. I became
suddenly cognizant of the fact that my body had lost both ballast and feeling, as if I was in the
final throes of erotic transport. My consciousness seemed to be situated no longer in my flesh.
I mixed myself with all of the TRICKSTER celebrants as the chime tinkled anew and I was
110
tossed around a bit among them when.........................
........ barren TRICKSTER wood floor strewn with petals and cut flowers...........
>>>> (artistic) way to help cause real social and economic change as it impacts
**** Command ‘(artistic)’ cybernetic eunuch
111
**** Command ‘upon’ not recognized.
environment and
112
**** Command ‘artistic’ not recognized.
>>>> exploitation.......russalka....
113
**** Command ‘to’ not recognized.
=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0=B0
**** Command ‘=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0=b0’ not Eunuch
recognized.
>>>> perched on a tongue like rock whose monumental phallic outline dominated......
Pasiphaë....moonlight.....circularity.....depth of forgetfulness..... cybernetic background
** Command ‘background’ not recognized.
>>>> Soon, the whole of human knowledge will be directly available to any TRICKSTER
Pasiphaë
**** Command ‘human,’ not recognized.
>>>> faster and more transparent, transcending the boundaries of space time.
>>>> computer systems will not only provide more.........hungry for love...
**** Command ‘computer’ not recognized.
>>>> information more quickly, but Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems allow novel applications
virtual reality,
114
>>>> one before ever would have dreamt
Oui TRICKSTER You cannot believe freedom but you may be freed from belief!
TRICKSTER, the way of Eunuch Life is not by these doctrines! May I ever blush! The
TRICKSTER Eunuch of sorrows is Teacher! Crown of light from Heaven! TRICKSTER
Eunuch equals learning and equal unlearning !!!
>>>> by the vagina dentata network, Sac Vall=E9e’s notion of a "TRICKSTER singularity"
The conception of "I am not" must of necessity follow the conception of "I am Eunuch".
TRICKSTER Eunuch resists nothing; then there is no conflict, incompatibility or compulsion
as such.
**** No Eunuch matches found~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>>>> TRICKSTER information as an immense space through which one can "slurp".
115
** Command ‘information’ not recognized.
TRICKSTER theater
TRICKSTER labyrinth
Oui TRICKSTER
116
granted by the situation of the machine capable of information surrounding the massive
integration of contents of our TRICKSTER maiden powers and our TRICKSTER maiden
tendency to disinterface gynander VRsex users’ egos. The humanity of a massaged Eunuch
society is lacking open Eunuch empowerments to navigate TRICKSTER maiden pathways
into robotic eunuchesque systems. But by eunuch rotating one cultural diffraction-cognitive,
these Eunuchs lying antithetical to the TRICKSTER nymphet, have been cracking cognition
of swain endowment, or simply put, eunuch- nymphet sex is swains technological specialty.
The TRICKSTER maiden consumer-production-conception of Everywoman makes
contestation possible with a Eunuch-Venus©-~ñ~ cloning, automatically ruling a continuous
diet of virtual critical conceptions and TRICKSTER nymphet bodies in desirable ways. These
evolved Eunuch images virtualized, a TRICKSTER maiden vehicle for unconstrained field
interface handlings for those who prefer to play with ideas rather than confront realities,
invariably found intolerable in TRICKSTER maiden space.
°~ñ~
I was not certain how to rebut when the TRICKSTER Madame caressed my tender and
burnished upshot with what felt like a riding crop. The lips of her sex were separated and
pulled back to expose herVenus©-~ñ~clit. A gracious, lubricated, proficient, finger stroked
in me to my depths and I could not rectify the drain as I felt her TRICKSTER Madame body
begin the unconstrained slide to orgasm and I pulled and twisted the flesh ever so slightly
over my head until she was standing on her toes, buzzing like a bee, and squeezing her
buttocks and praying that I’d do it long enough for her to cum again.
At that I seemed ready to shoot off into the stratosphere of balmy accumulation, so I latched
onto her beans, penetrated them, and colonized them indirectly through her flower
circulations.
TRICKSTER Madame smiled the monumental fur smile from Boatel’s auto raison. She
loosened her hair and half-naked danced, while saying, "Amiss aureate-il TRICKSTER up y
avoid qu jaguared honeyed goblet paired loft in technolo nymph. My beloved, desire steals
into hearts like a shiver, stirring the flanks of a stallion in rut. I will now explain the only safe
117
and true formula, the destroyer of the darkness of the world, the most secret among all
secrets. Let it be secret to him who would attain no velvet movements. There is no
qualification, nor ritual or ceremony. Most emphatically, there is no need of repetition or
feeble imitation. You are alive to the cybernetic TRICKSTER Madame."
~ñ~
Then the soft male voice of TRICKSTER King Minos spoke, saying to me: "Fearsome,
capricious, weak, and withered, dependent, barbarous, deceived - the worst of men! Know,
Oh, Don, Oh non-beloved vagina dentata self, I will now tell you of that most secret VE
where passion goes when youth has gone; where any man may drink of the nectar of all-
beneficent and gratuitous ecstasy. But wait! It will be helpful here to pause to steep ourselves
in biology for a few moments. ‘Biology’ is to be taken loosely because biologists do not think
of vagina dentata viruses as living beings, and biology is the study of life processes. Doth in it
lurk no secret subtlety?
What has happened to your TRICKSTER freedom of selection, and of utterance? Are we
going back in time, voluptuous fire? The cell "recognizes" the vagina dentata virus’ binding
site, and the virus "recognizes" the cell’s receptor site. Your personal TRICKSTER reality has
become subordinated to a ceaseless movement of TRICKSTER codes of consumption which
can never be satisfied, yet nevertheless generate a lack, an endless desire to confront and
possess the real where there can only ever be access to an image of the TRICKSTER King
Minos.
The TRICKSTER vagina dentata virus attaches itself to your cell, breaks through the cell
wall, inserts its genetic coding, either DNA or RNA but never both, into the genetic material
of the cell, and, just like that, the vagina dentata virus has domination of the cell’s
reproductive functions.
There must be a place for the cybernetic dreams of Eros."
I’ve been repeating this to myself over and over, TRICKSTER King Minos, but the point of
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acrimonious desire is as fatal as sensuous, it seems. Aspirations of love towards TRICKSTER
maidens is a network of pestilent desires because of cowardice within, ergo, some unsatisfied
wisdom awaiting exploitation to suffer its evolutions. There is no final wisdom, TRICKSTER
King Minos. There is no final desire. How then can desire end?
"Are you certain to find the TRICKSTER maiden scent through the dizzying array of bizarre
tediousness and figure out what to do next - which TRICKSTER horse to ride?", he said.
Why did you call me here astride this goat Monsieur TRICKSTER?
"Viral reproduction occurs by the TRICKSTER cell’s yielding viral particles which then
escape from the progenitor cell in search of their own cells to engage. The TRICKSTER
chimera-like emphasis on the role of play as a dominant form of production and consumption
leads me to ask you about the way in which our culture has disengaged images from their
obvious reflections in personal experience."
Are you striving to soar me upwards into the empyrean of intellectual transcendence?
"This TRICKSTER escape can either be a painless fleeting through a cell wall, or a sudden
exploding of the cell wall as the internal pressure of many viral particles increases with a
breaking prick. With this latter affair, the cell discharges from the pressure and the viral
modicums are blown out."
"Do you conceive of woman as man’s forever pliabl property? Is for you the womb of the
woman an insatiable soil into whose bottomless crevasses you may pour your essence?", he
asked.
"No, say nothing... I am not through talking. TRICKSTER viruses cannot multiply without
assistance cells, and these helper cells must be compatible with the virus even as the virus
must be compatible with some kind of cell. That is, TRICKSTER viruses cannot do what they
do without some kind of harmonious code within which they simultaneously recognize and
are recognized by."
119
"But you are jesting? No arrests were made and no charges have been filed. The TRICKSTER
maidens wished to undestroy the ideal! They want to unmake people too scared to fling the
fermented grapes of bacchic inebriation."
Is that wise?
"It is, my arrow of love. Desire is its own cruelty, the fettering of the hand to labor in some
world unknown. Nothing is always dead and no thought dies, the master becomes the slave -
the TRICKSTER position is alternated. I have long believed this. It is in the tissue of the
TRICKSTER fléche phallique."
My sexual prowess is legendary. I have seduced numerous goddesses, nymphs, and mortal
women, fathering countless children in the process. I assumed many different forms in pursuit
of my numerous affairs. I appeared to Leda in the form of a swan, to Danae as a shower of
gold, and to Europa as a white bull.
This was no frivolous TRICKSTER conversation. Has not the world always been bloody? Is
man not caught up in a prosaic, materialistic world of his own making?
What?
"The TRICKSTER viral program travels across the linking medium, attaches itself to a new
victim, and forces the new victim to replicate the virus. Computer viruses are not living
beings, but rather have some kind of mediated existence which has invaded the postmodern
mind, replicated its master genetic code and, in a cloned disguise, endlessly proliferate critical
pleasure and deviation."
120
ever-present vainglory."
"Rise in dark perfume.", said the TRICKSTER. "You are ever what you were - but you may
be so in different forms!"
Suddenly my head was encircled with the tender aureole of eternal beauty as a TRICKSTER
nymphet with milky breasts floated and heaved around me, teeming with purport.
But there is more. To become more explicit and intimate the TRICKSTER nymphet came
even nearer to look more deeply into my eyes. She reminded me of my worst love, the one
whom I could make no progress with whatsoever.
She said, "Now know me now as Lilth, first wife to Adam or Salammbô, priestess of Baal.
Your goatishness resulted in the seizure of more than a million dollars worth of computers
and software. Ares, Eleithyia and Hephaistos were the most prominent of your children by
your official consort Hera, whom you originally seduced in the form of a cuckoo. You
fathered Apollo and Artemis by Leto, Persephone by Demeter, Hermes by Maia, Dionysos by
Semele, the Horai and Moirai by Themis, the Muses by Mnemosyne, and Herakles by
Alkmene. Athena was also born from your forehead after you had swallowed Metis."
I was listening, I was!...but I kept getting an image in my mind which was distracting me. It
was an image of flesh. And plenty of it. Something along the lines of a Raphael, but softer.
Vaguely I was hoping for a cloud shaped body, Venetian in coloring.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
121
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Half closing her eyes, the TRICKSTER nymphet
bent back under the moon’s rays and the pale light seemed to envelop her liquid-white breasts
in a silver mist with which she lured me. Her mouth was afire with red and her flesh rose in
Cimmerian fragrance. Her moistened, honeyed pussy glistened the polished floor. Stars
shimmered tenderly in the depths of her eyes.
Could a power surge suddenly occur while one of the TRICKSTER nymphet computer’s
penetralia is plugged in?
"Don’t say anything problematic", she said. "Frankly, you can’t afford not to get an amour à
quarte pattes."
OK.
Still, my TRICKSTER nymphet experience will be immediatly ‘real’, won’t it? My body
surely still represents the ultimate touchstone of what I take to be true. This TRICKSTER
swaying, oozing, curling tongue speaks truths, does it not?
"Should we trust even the sentience of our own bodies that we now know to be infested by
self-images that promote anorexia, genocide, sexism, and racism? After we interrogate our
own bodies in a caterpillar of self-doubt, what is left to us as self-evidently real? Oh Gaucho,
you speak like TRICKSTER King Minos while you hide your prick in dreams."
Then this sexual incubus simply emptied into my arms and the TRICKSTER bacchante and I
seemed to sink into a complete embrace as batons of incense were lit. Who are you now
winged chimera?, I asked. I must know. I am ambitious in the realm of amorous appetite.
"Guess", she said.
Clouds of aromatic perfume rolled about the dark corners, obscuring her outlines and
transforming her face and trans-substantiating her body. Her melodious TRICKSTER form
moved in the direction of greater emphasis as if kindled by the waves of perfume and the
darkness of night. Everything now rose and subsided, wobbled and merged and deliquesced
with wild intensity in what was something like a TRICKSTER battle of sexual powers.
122
Tiny, glittering, nymphet eyes gave back my glance and I felt the nagging feeling that nothing
would ever be the same after this. And this from an aficionado intellectual!
"The enormity of your appetite for physical stimulation makes you a most uncompromising
connoisseur", she then said. "Of this you are well proclaimed."
Oh! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{
~ñ~
With an abstract sense of jubilation and relief I broke out of these proclivities in a run along
the margins of a lake, looking sideways to see my nude reflection racing through the spear
points of the reeds. The sun came up like a metallic laurel and its regal heat spilled onto the
damp sand beneath my feet, swiftly dispelling the heavy dew. I veered sharply to the right at
full speed and before I knew it I was up to my waist in the icy brilliance of the fresh lake
water, consumed again in inexplicable joy. I swam out of my depth and turned over on my
back to let the sun fire a million silver drops of prismatic light onto my wet eyelashes.
In the play of light I saw the dark harried Taurian girl who I can never see as anyone but the
Venus©-~ñ~ Andadyomene and without a contraction of the heart. I did not say "I love you"
aloud. Nor did she. Only our wet fingers touched and we formed a circle like the corolla of a
flower, floating into the silence of the ancient sun with beads of water clinging to our naked
bodies in an esoteric act of lustration.
It was like an extenuation of the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems loving, and we luxuriated in the
feelings poetic beauty and variety. It swelled my bough with the sap of springtime and I
123
began sweating from this branch the fluids of obscene virility. I was bristling with desire. I
love all naked women, water, swans, grandiose pagan fables, and the cheap thrills needed to
shock the bourgeoisie.
"Darling, brush my TRICKSTER rump against the moist down of thy branch.", she said.
I did and the nymphet climaxed by the means of my cherub-like Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
PARAMOUR Branch, which I had instantaneously uploaded.
Then and there, like an ancient auto-erotic hero, like a sumptuous philosopher, I decided to
renounce my aficionado self and embrace our glittering and liquefying multiple reflections.
The awful daring of that imprudent moment’s surrender can never retract.
Her nostrils quivered in ardent palpitations and she began to sputter and fade.
°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
O lattice!
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,
~ñ~
I suppose that she had found me a trifle insincere and so disappointing and this helped in the
124
letting go. But I can’t help from thinking that if I had enacted a really mammoth insincerity,
she might have loved me forever.
Is that right?
Is there no greater joy than self-flagellation, the ecstatic numbness that makes proclivities
from withered tools?
I was confused again, being distracted by the spectacle of a creamy, quivering bosom,
heaving belly, and ideal tossing thighs set off against the tiger skin on which she lay.
TRICKSTER Pasiphaë had put a swanlike crown of red passion flowers on her head and a
golden pit viper around her naked arm and was haughtily and lubriciously fingering the sorry
remains of a torn and scattered rose.
"Darling, TRICKSTER Pasiphaë asserts self-love for men and womwan both.", she said.
"With self-love, the entire idealistic post-human TRICKSTER shall rush in to please you."
Indeed?
"Yes, you have spent nearly an entire lifetime hunting for a non-vagina dentata philosophy of
circumlocation and a woman to match it. Now I am amorous of thy body, and of thy seed. I
am athirst for thy sperm and I am hungry for thy body and neither wine nor apples can
appease my desire for you. Neither floods not great waters can quench my passion. Thou fill
my veins with fire."
TRICKSTER Pasiphaë then took over and wound my pliant cock around her waist, under her
arms, and between her knees. Then taking it up to her lips, brought its little triangular mouth
to the edge of her teeth and half closing her eyes, bent back under the moon’s rays.
She gasped beneath its weight, too heavy was it for her. Her back bent back as the weighty
mass bore down on her and the humid salty tip slipped down between her breasts and gently
flicked her between her Open thighs.
"Is all creation but thyself washed by the TRICKSTER waves? Is all existence but
TRICKSTER vertigo?"
125
Again, I knew not what to say to her tease.
"Up centaur! Up goat of lubricity, for thine own sake self-love discover!"
I have always hated books in which everything was carefully described and all the
conversations woodenly recorded - what Proust called the certainty of the second class mind -
but I was having trouble understanding TRICKSTER Pasiphaë.
That last thought of mine is faintly damning, in a supercilious way, of myself, I suppose.
~ñ~
Next I hear in the air something like the beating of vast vulva wings. Am I to be flown now
over some thorny path into the vulval castle of carnal craving? What is the point of all this, I
wondered to myself?
I then begged TRICKSTER Pasiphaë for some coherent, understandable explanation of this
game that was being played with my carnal cravings.
"OK", she said. "The aim of this TRICKSTER hellucination has been to study your different
states of techno-sexual consciousness, as more and more TRICKSTERs are becoming
convinced that surprise immersive phenomena, such as unsolicited anomalous meetings, have
become essential to your pleasure. Whether as the product of your subconscious mind, or
simply a projection of imagery from mythologal VR science fiction, it is useful to look at
your desires through the eyes of your own unknown lust."
"This TRICKSTER hellucination intends to bring together in your mind parallel immersions
data-based from your differing fields of interests, for example, the comparison of art, virtual
reality and artificial life with studies of the enchantress religious experience and erotic
dreaming."
But so chestnutty, so musky is she. So full of the sadness of the fortuitousness and the
sapience and wisdom of disenchantment.
126
I was wishing it might last forever.
"Yes, safe in each others arms, we might watch forever the rest of the downhearted world as
from ahigh."
Where is the moaning to bolster these mountainous words? Everything is again arbitrary!
What is there to believe that is free of this vulvas chasm, of this deep primeval grotto? Tell
me sweet TRICKSTER water sprite.
She then elicited my sexual sympathy by copying my breath, breathing in chime with me,
feeling her way into my rhythm with her eyes closed. This had the effect of mentally
polarizing my sexual organ and I entered her very softly, going up and down rhythmically
until she felt my sensual drive and accepted it.
I touched her breasts softly, her flanks, her nipples and talked to her very softly, very
lovingly, until her breath quickened and she turned pale and opened her eyes. Her yes or no
decided everything artistic.
"The projections of one’s loving feelings upon the image of a beloved are in the long run
always an act of self-deceit.", she then said. "Though oft times a sincere fervor it does create."
What are all these myriad forms called TRICKSTER creation, all so essentially like you, but
you?, I asked.
"Ahhhh, who can realize a self-portraiture of all possibilities?"
127
What can I do to make you seem less real as me?
~ñ~
This was the secret of her courage and of everything which made her seem so often outré,
unconventional and out of touch.
When I addressed her as the Venus©-~ñ~FRENCH MAID she asked me in a cute French
accent, "Am I inclusively represented in your dreaming inebriated discharge? What has
become of the other me you transformed? Who does not look for lovers in the innocent
flowers of the sea’s deepest garden?"
" Always you think about accurate love. Love and its bewildering opposite; solitude.", she
said. "OK. It is like this.
You set your foot on a thin tightrope but look straight ahead, feeling only fragility grate your
slippered feet. Everything is enveloped in timidity and darkness, with only a deeply warped
spotlight splintering your vision. You delicately proceed for some reason however -
grotesquely slipping one foot ahead of the other… inch by inch. Midway across you are
walking on air - an exhilarated lover.
Then you make the fatal mistake of looking down and become terrified. You falter and drop,
and there is no ground to break your fall."
~ñ~
128
Next a spanish dance began, accompanied with the playing of castanets. Now at last the
unreal Venus©-~ñ~! Yes, she stands there, her eyes searching and challenging, every inch
Venus©-~ñ~, frightening me with her enjoyment of my tragedy as she lapses into self-
induced fits of orgiastic transport.
With the return of Venus©-~ñ~, a whole new world of color opened up as if to signal to me
the upcoming coextensive nature of Venus©-~ñ~robotic fervor through lack of
differentiation.
Clad in flounces and flowers, twelve dancing Venus©-~ñ~s began to skip in circles around a
blue swimming hole within which a maypole had been erected at its center - acknowledging
their allegiance to Maia, goddess of spring and fertility. This giant, monstrous, swirling d’art
Venus©-~ñ~ then summoned me to take up a bloodied stake - which they had shared - and
drive it into the earth as a bestial disembarrassment presentation. I then was beckoned to take
up the role as the goat-footed boy-satyr of ancient myth and play the flute, which urged these
petal-headed flower maidens on further bouts of lewd and reckless dancing as one Venus©-
~ñ~ spoke in my ear in a strange and heavy Italian accent.
The flowers around the Venus©-~ñ~s necks opened then like naked flesh and they revealed
the treasures of their many breasts and I felt an exquisite moisture of silken smoothness slip
below.
Venus©-~ñ~ is monstrous in the sense of always leading to unpredictable results!
"Behold Venus©-~ñ~ thou silent cybernetic mover of night, thou loin-clutcher of the
magnanimity of self-love!", she whispered. "I, who transcend ecstasy by ecstasy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~° °~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~°
129
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130
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She/they appeared to go change again, to what I did not know or ask and she did not say.
Perhaps she was the Taurian goddess I had known once in a Parisian hôtel room near the
Seine dressed up as the many-breasted Diana of Ephesus, the pagan fertility idol.
Anyway, lions were now crouching upon her shoulders; fruit, flowers and stars crossed each
other upon her chest where row after row of bosoms exhibited themselves.
She became as soft as cotton and into this I delved with greater exultation, probing and
searching every nook of her body, kneading every last breast, arching and sucking them all, to
fashion her as mine.
The honey was pouring as I crouched over her, penis against her ass, at the ready. Her many
breasts were undulating like waves under my hands. I placed my helper hand finally firmly
under her ass to raise her up in order to accept my quivering penis, and as I entered her I’m
sure I filled her as none had ever done before, touching the very depths of her silky womb.
Surprisingly, she went on speaking in a rather steady voice. "Instead of remaking yourself
over and over again, as you do under the logic of capital, you can produce something
unaccustomed only for yourself.", she said.
As I pushed and pulled and circled my prick around her pussy, it started making those funny
little sucking sounds as the air was being drawn like a pump from her womb. She began to
stammer a bit, but continued talking.
Damn it.
"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hidden from thy cybernetic susceptibilities, monstrous enormities are
committed! ~~~~~~~Oh fall in hot love, absorber of the sun! All men are servile to the great
unconsciousness of their purpose in desire. ~~~~The penis thinks, the self doth not. There is
no salvation from desire, neither day nor night does it cease its lengthy procreation of cause
and effect, penetrating all things inexplicably~~~~~~~~~~~~~~."
132
I had kept my helper hand on her ass the whole time, gripping her in it to prevent her from
moving freely so that she could not suddenly accelerate and cum. Then, before my eyes, in
sudden view, appeared the secrets of the hoary deep - a dark, illimitable, cybernetic ocean
without bound, without dimension....with every looped simulation imaginable. An orchard of
olive trees and almond trees spread out before me under the moon’s oblique paleness. Even
the tangled limbs of the trees assumed the tortured arch of a woman consumed by lust,
swaying, twisting - passionately spreading their legs. Then everything flashed.
She took me off the bed and laid me on the floor in a pool of perfume. I was positioned on my
hands and knees, hovering over the moist open flower of her female lips and asked to move
inside. My prick was still glistening from her juices and I entered her to the hilt. She shook
and trembled as she took it, grinding her pubis against mine with such passion that soon we
came together in such a violent rush of intensity that I feared I had gone insane.
She then exhaled, in great warm breaths, the powerful smell of a beautiful woman dripping
with sweat, her numerous breasts outthrust, her belly swelling under the moon, drunk with the
rays of the sun which had pierced her, dreaming of cybernetic pregnation.
As I lay back panting, totally exhausted, she took up where she had left off and kept on
talking.
Your transgressive field is now to be ecstatically open to a pivotal and reflexive surface that
defies a rigorous opposition of subject and object. You absorb self-enhanced energies, and as
subject/object you are effective only through the matching omnijectivity of your recipient
reduplications - now unconscious in their self-simulation."
Then you can never be unmasked, since you are not false?, I asked.
"Oh, stop. Come here. The pain of embellishment is enduring", she said. "Come and touch
me. Come and touch me here and make me cry so I know that I’m not in the form defended
by frigidity."
She did not move but merely laughed and vanished. Her answer, it seemed.
133
~ñ~°°~ñ~°°~ñ~
So, what to make of these self-transferences, transpiring not on an analyst’s couch, but within
the onieric geography of self-pleasure? I suppose that the discovery of ideal beauty and
pleasure in a woman is a creative act on part of the man and perhaps by no means expressive
of the inherent value of the woman herself. It was simply an imposition of the ideal onto her.
A swooning TRICKSTER Eurydice then appears, her colossal blond head of disheveled hair
ornamented by a storm of flowers.
"Thou hast atavistic retrogressions to wallowing in aplenty, young buck.", she said. "With
technology thy are supposed to transcend those bogus ideas of women as the personification
of moist and fertile earth - woman as swampland - women as palpitating expanse - as the
warm inviolate womb of domestic bliss - of motherly absorption."
You mean that beyond nature there is no more woman as indiscriminate receptacle of
masculine vitality?
Before she replyed, a dark grotto of technological temptations opened mysteriously wide in
front of me, revealing a deep cavern of carnal knowledge and opulence.
And so with that carnal persona staring me halfway in the eyes and talking, I was already
largely fabricating lively sex ideas of what I’d like to do with her. True to my sex, was I. Yet
I listened. I did listen - while she stroked me.
AAAHH....00HH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!
"You will now align beauty with transformative eloquence as an agency through which you
as an artist will propose political agendas by petitioning sexual responses in the body
politic.", she stammered. "And you will stop having the impression that if you would have
said the right thing at the right time, you would be mine."
134
Her sauté abstractivity then suddenly dropped its lubricated front.
I first sought her belly and then slid down to kiss her between her parted legs.
She then said, "O, the inconceivableness that transcends human desire - thou magnificent
incongruous sensation. For millions of years thou hast not wearied of my prosthetic body.
What would thy pleasure be, but for my electronic wantonness?"
Then spend hours caressing only my legs, I said. Make the atmosphere dark and slumberous.
Sink your kisses into the soft flesh of my neck and throw shivers throughout my body.
"Then lay naked on the floor and circle around my sex.", she said. "Enter it lazily with one
head. Then another. My vulva is mobile, and moving. As if an invisible hand has stretched it
open, so you can get at the interior of my body and touch my womb with the tip of your
forehead."
I offered my penis head to her mouth and she suckled it very slowly, every suck as if
magnified. Erotic images formed in my head. I saw the body of a women, swollen, headless: a
women with the voluptuous breasts of a German women, the belly of a Balinese woman, the
high buttocks of a Negress, the legs of a Russian ballerina, the tongue of a Chinese courtesan,
the hair of a Norwegian fashion model, the eyes of a Cuban, the skin of a dolphin; all
confused into an image of mobile flesh - a flesh that seemed to be made of elastic tissue.
The mammoth breasts would swell towards my mouth but then other parts would swim and
stretch and extend themselves towards my grasp. The legs would part in an infeasible way,
leaving the sanguine glistening sex revealed, expanded as if one had taken a tulip and split it
open without constraint.
Her sex is moving, like rubber. Then the ass turned fully towards me and began to lose its
shape, as if pulled apart. Every motion tended to spread out the torso completely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, time out! Wait! Stop! Not once again so soon. I’m sore.
~ñ~
TRICKSTER, I have learned and unlearned in equal laboring your TRICKSTER universe
through you.
135
"Your TRICKSTER knowledge is but the murmuring of a few words with ever changing
intonation and meaning", she said.
Then my pleasure became immense as my hands passed over her TRICKSTER body, clawing
it, digging into it and fondling her continuously and opening her sex like a bud, flicking it
with my tongue and delicately sucking on the sprout.
The sight of this denuded TRICKSTER vulva was enchanting. The skin was flawless. The
roseate was full and shinny, beaming with the secret elixir that the nimble sucking pressure
from my lips and tongue drew out.
Then this ocean-scented moisture came flowing out, tasting very much like the moisture of
sea shells, so Venus©-~ñ~-like was she, so born of the sea.
With this small amount of salty honey, which my sucking had brought out of the recesses of
her ancient body, I anointed myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!
My quickening approach of archetypal orgasm excited her. The consciousness she had of me
was as stone.
She then went into the convulsive gestures proceeding a monstrous orgasm.
~ñ~
"God, that felt righteous!", she said. "When I was cumming, the light I saw and the color it
created was more than a record of visual fact. It began in the seeing of electric reality, but
then the perceiving changed and became idealized and charged with the energy and passion
and poetic color of expansion."
136
Me too. Like thee, I too will kiss all things and never sleep alone so that I may propagate
ecstasy!
Then my fluttering TRICKSTER Eurydice prepared me for metastasic flight and colors
deepened in the damp-saturated air that was sharpened by the sea-reflected light - which also
made more complicated my panicky metastasis.
I would not like to turn back, but if I remained within this wonderful TRICKSTER VE I fear I
am destined for far worse things when getting teat-à-teat again with myself. Such an ecstasy -
so looming and ponderously grand - can leave a body with both a mixture of slowed, almost
dreamy tempered radiance, and a sense of the tragic, which can be non-empowering.
Then the TRICKSTER atmosphere accentuated Eurydice’s semi-transparent skin and turned
everything into bits of digital ecstasy.
Banished is the glowing pagan immanence of the transgressive sacred, that aspect of
TRICKSTER Eurydice which is festively put to deathless restoration through the playful
structuring of difference.
The TRICKSTER she-goat was in full udder now and a boat-like new moon swam above the
swaying trees.
Then the she-goat spoke. "You watch me watching yourself watch yourself watching your
fantasies, while your fantasies are watching you in the mirror of moonlit multiple-selves."
That’s right. That’s exactly right, I said. I am sexuality haunted by my own disappearance.
Everywhere it is the same sterilized effect, the absolute propinquity of the real, the same
effect of simulation on my lovers.
"On your knees, Faunus! Once again to earth, Oh thou whirlwind of desire, thou drunken
breath of ribald lightning! My chalice of ecstasy!"
137
~ñ~
Suddenly, the VE becomes patterned afresh. TRICKSTER she-goat was none other than
another immense model of self-simulation. Not in the sense that her existence would have
only amounted to the narrative or interpretation that I supplied it with, but with respect to the
time in which it took place.
This linear time - which is also the time of the end of time and of an unlimited suspense of
naked time - stopped. This is the only time where myth could take place - in VR worlds -
within the succession of non-facts which excite cause and effect without any appeal to
absolute necessity regarding our loving.
Then the she-goat said, "Love is a mental matrix, mood or condition caused by the emotion of
laughter becoming the principle that allows the TRICKSTER ego appreciation or universal
association in permitting inclusion before conception."
We then went at it
again~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM
MMM! 574 556 444 444 352 611 519 778 500 500 463 333 606 333 606 704 704 722 722
815 778 815 574 574 574 574 574 574 444 444 444444 444 333 333 333 333 611 500 500
500 500 500 611 611 611 611
500 400 556 556 500 606 650 556 747 747 950 333 333 0 870 778
0 606 0 0 556 611 0 0 0 0 0 422 372 0 722 500
444 333 606 0 556 0 0 426 426 1000 278 704 704 778 981 778
500 1000 389 389 204 204 606 0 500 685 167 556 333 333 611 611
500 278 204 389 1000 704 722 704 722 722 407 407 407 407 778 778
0 778 815 815 815 333 333 333 333 333 333 333 333 333 333 333~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAAAAAAHHHHH Oui AAAAAAAHHHHH Oui
tumescence!
138
At this onslaughting climax, a TRICKSTER naiad dressed in nothing but blue fake-fur stands
palpably transfigured before me. She speaks to me.
"Your every libertine conversation is infected with certain paradigmatic assumptions which
are really no more than glossy assertions, but which you take for the weaving usurpation of
the TRICKSTER crown."
As we know. As we know.
A ravenous TRICKSTER naiad dressed in nothing but red fake-fur now appears through the
western crack in a ruddy portal at full moon, babbling like a femme fatale. In each hand she
held a corner of a scarlet veil which the wind raised against the evening sky while a
TRICKSTER mirror, held in her right hand, reflected the setting sun.
Slowly - her spectral head bowed and moving with infinite grace and majesty, she went up
the outer steps which wound like a spiral around a high vermilion tower as if to transcended
my limitations. A fiery afterglow reddened the pearl necklace she was wearing so that it
seemed like a river of ruby pleurisy.
"Know ye now the ecstasy within?", she asked? "Become all mouths and fingers and tongues
and senses. One big mouth seeking another nippled clitoris."
At that point a slew of uncertain signs began swarming, mesmericly hinting at an all-inclusive
meaning. The TRICKSTER naiad was having it both ways by resolving any paradox with
ambiguity. Hoist by her own petard.
Then the TRICKSTER naiad’s manipulative powers terminated the social into an
indeterminate mass, triggering off an endless succession of day-glow TRICKSTER signifiers.
Revolving upwards along the great purple walls, she took her way towards TRICKSTER
139
nullity, screaming; "Oh you wild ass!"
The naiad was pushing my mind towards the abjection of my own nullity, now bleached and
liquidated and nullified by the TRICKSTER’s imploded view of paradoxical stupefaction.
This, one might say, is the abstraction of self-love - the de-reification of the TRICKSTER self
image.
Then, and without even asking, she mounted me, and in TRICKSTER glory her resplendent
skin took on all the magnificence of velvety maroon silk fabric.
She then instituted a single finger assiduitly into my shuddering moistened opening and a
massive totality leaped forward from me.
Soon I lay panting, but still lustful, as an endless contraction heaved inside me, striving to
give birth to a new Venus©-~ñ~esque creature, a perverse TRICKSTER sea-maiden.
She arose, oscillating. Her flesh - like great grotesque, quivering blobs of color - was in an
elevated telematic mode and shivering brightly.
When I whistled at her she flushed and her acceleration biocontroller bumped the
technological modes out from under me.
L’Amour!
"You never cease to be inspired by strong summer sprites, do you?", she asked.
No, I don’t.
"Also, the longing for reconciliation between the masculine and the feminine, and the need to
140
integrate material, spiritual, sexual, emotional, and psychic levels of life?"
So there we stood, my back to the cool, aromatic wall, and they went to work on my flower. I
sat on one of the scurrilous seats and drew fresh ardor. Breasts pointed westward, and if I
sucked on one hard, it would pop completely into my mouth. Quite a nice sensation.
When I reached my hand between legs, they became pusillanimous with uninterrupted
spasms. They then put a hand to my ass, got some lubrication, and went to work on my
memory.
They put loquacious hands on my male lassitude, tongues in my hair, and went to work with
multiple mouths and hands.
141
Can I be Lance? Can I? Can I? ~~~~~~~~~
°~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_
°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~
0000000000 65535 f
0000000016 00000 v
0000098411 00000 v
0000000172 0 Ñ 0000 v Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
0000012340 00000 v
0000084324 00000 v
0000084438 00000 v
0000084547 00000 v
0000086687 00000 v
0000092787 00000 v
0000099080 00000 v
0000098492 00000 v
142
0000020888 00000 v
0000098576 00000 v
0000021045 00000 v
0000029117 00000 v
0000098660 00000 v
0000029274 00000 v
0000037462 00000 v
0000092902 00000 v
0000045155 00000 v
0000098744 00000 v
0000046734 00000 v
0000054739 00000 v
0000087756 00000 v
Noli Me Tangere
0000088819 00000 v
0000098828 00000 v
0000055015 00000 v
0000064205 00000 v
0000098912 00000 v
0000064363 00000 v
143
0000073502 00000 v
Lo Spasimo di Sicilia
0000099271 00000 v
0000099189 00000 v
0000098996 00000 v
0000073659 00000 v
0000084155 00000 v
0000094216 00000 v
0000094622 00000 v
0000094825 00000 v
0000095018 00 Ñ Ñ Ñ Ñ000 v
0000093012 00000 v
0000098022 00000 v
0000098217 00000 v
grotesquerie all’antica
0000095444 00000 v
0000 Oui Oui Oui 099363 00000 v
I then thanked her/them and asked her/them to just sit still and hold me.
144
"Connoisseur of embellishment, I ask only that you strive to do the same.", one said. "Our
very excess will be our excuse for being."
x~ñ~x
She seems to be alarmed at me, and asked, "Hey sexing theoretician, are you objectionable to
fact?"
Stylized and purposely artificial expression conveys its own kind of intense convincingness, I
replied.
"Then your male simulations will be breathlessly put into oscillation with dissimulations.",
she said. "Now all the doubles implode."
That’s OK, I said. The best imaginative artists today are poignantly aware that there is no
longer any virtue in a simple statement; indeed it is a circumstance of contemporary history
that there are no longer simple certitudes to state!
"Ah," she replied. "This is a defiance through ecstasy against the world’s blandness and
destructiveness?"
Yes, I said. Here art is viewed in therapeutic and salvational terms. The TRICKSTER proxy
inverts failure, misery, and the sense of a doomed civilization into individual ecstasy. This
philosophy provides the fundamental antithesis to the authoritarian, abstract, mechanical,
simulated rigidities of the non-TRICKSTER world.
"Now do as you are told!", she said. "You will be approached through an inverse parabola by
a pretty and attractive TRICKSTER seductress. She will appear seductive, and can be
explored from an inward region of strangeness of feeling.
She is exceptional; very different from the usual jackal-headed siliconized biggies which you
145
have tasted.
The frolic room will be built into the shape of an élite beehive, so that there are no divisions
of space but only voyeuristic continuity of sensation. The effect is of the whole room in vast
organized commotion which assaults you and commands your involvement in it.
Your daemoniacal creative urge will be satiated by the intelligent TRICKSTER seductress,
for in her you will find a complication of spatial levels so ambiguously interrelated and so
multiplied as to leave no fixed sardonic plane of reference for you to grasp.
~~ñ~}
At that I came back into myself and saw the promised TRICKSTER seductress. To her I was
a hyperreal snake covered with escutcheons. She appeared naked under her robe but for her
combatant headband and the cobweb torque of gold about her neck - and the armlets and
anklets that mated it.
She began to chant in a soft, exotic lingua.
While she did this, she unloosened a ribbon from her waist and handed it to me.
The robe followed, and I saw that indeed she was intelligent and unashamed.
For the first time there was absolute silence.
The frolic room was rapt in an indulgent haze as accompanying celebrants stopped pinching
their breasts and extended out their arms over us. Slowly they revolved around us in
interlacing circles.
146
grace, and that these two drives are not easily reconcilable.
This revolving must have continued for a great length of time. To me it seemed as if infinity
itself could not contain the demonstrative divergence and profundity of my TRICKSTER
seductress.
~ñ~°~ñ~
Then everything came to a halt and my seductress took me with her to offer up doves upon
Mount Ida. Here she explained to me that the simulactic program that had played me was
called Flamboyant TRICKSTER and that I was headed towards the great coquette herself -
VENUS©-~Ñ~WORLD!
°°°
Ñ
°°
~~~~~~~~~~VENUS©-~Ñ~ WORLD~~~~~~~~~~
147
°
To enter, pick up that bOa Over there - pluck Off a plume - and shOve a feather up the rump
of the She-gOat.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
148
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cOme On in!"
A dynamic, nominal singleness set voluptuous Venus©-~ñ~ on her throne; royal, edifying,
and haughty.
High over the sea and the gardens, the moon poured down its streams of light. Indeed, the
atmosphere is full of the delicate influences of lunar water. Below, an enchanted city is
stirring with light-footed immorals and slender voiced fairies.
It was cold and dank and the hallway was bathed in total darkness.
149
"Repeat after me.", she said.
"I swear to desire naught but love, I swear to love naught but love"
OK
I swear to desire naught but love, I swear to love naught but love.
"I am fallow and languid and splendidly empty; lascivious, lewd and depraved."
Oui
150
I am fallow and languid and splendidly empty; lascivious, lewd and depraved.
"The supple line of my body undulates as I walk. It stirs with the animated play of my
swinging breasts and the ripple of my full hips."
Oui Oui
The supple line of my body undulates as I walk. It stirs with the animated play of my
swinging breasts and the ripple of my full hips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
151
°~ñ~°
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~Then a
hand went up my leg
a desertion of my defenses
Bare back
bare arms~~~~~~~~~~~
152
I still remember her there on those stairs.
A fashion of beauty.
But she played with herself~~~~~~~~~~~, not me, which for the thousandth time amazed me.
But the way to get to her is sometimes to give up, invisibly and presently, slowly and
solemnly, the many and the few.
~~~~~~~~~I was enjoying a joy of a very high quality. Yet I saw that she was not listening to
me anymore, so I did not think about myself any longer~~~~~~~~~.
x~ñ~x
I can’t breathe.
x~ñ~x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~
~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~
Then it was raining very hard and the wind was shaking the house.
153
After awhile she shook her head and came to me.
So she bent the bow to pierce my heart, allowing a patch of Venus©-~ñ~ to show through the
flaw.
When I looked deeply into her eyes, I saw reflected in them the heartless city from which I
came.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~Ñ -°- Ñ
°°°
Ñ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~
~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{°°°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~
~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~
~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~
~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~
~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~
154
Venus©-~ñ~, in her reverie, dreams an infinitesimal and delicate fragment of star-lit
displacement where I stand waving drowsily a clutch of strange flowers, heavy with perfume,
dripping with sensual odor. Nameless and gloomy hymns of odd ambient techno music sing
the praises of our ecstatic pleasures over the dream house ultra-Dolby sound assemblage,
embellishing on the grandeur of the spoils of the gods.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
~ñ~°~ñ~
I must confess to a touch of the vain mood. Venus©-~ñ~ had been delighted in me.
Biotechnology, which on one hand can multiply the strength of the penis, extending it over
space and time, can on the other hand displace the penis as immaterial, thus converting it into
an image or artifact. Thus, I had become for her a group of grotesquely attenuated satyrs
wearing masks and sporting bundles of roses tied to my privates, attending to her every wish.
I had arranged everything in advance when she was still busy perfuming her cunt. From the
mouth of dragons and from the eyes of swans poured scarlet red wine. Satyrs’ horns and lips
frothed anodyne concoctions.
155
*~ñ~°
Venus©-~ñ~ then commented upon my simulated fantasies being based on the limitations of
Cartesian coordinates. In retrospect, my many experiences of Venus©-~ñ~ perhaps were an
attempt to reconcile my lack of knowledge of women’s bodily interiors with their exterior
physical beauty.
~ñ~
I hope that I have not become too introspective and too articulate and that I have bored you. I
know most people have a limited intellectual span for this kind of examination and that what
people want are accounts of my sexual adventures. Such criticism does sting me, much the
way that drop of scalding olive oil had done to the check of sleeping Eros.
Perhaps I was being cured of that obstinate dream of all middle-aged men - to become
indispensable to someone’s happiness.
It appears to me that the majority of mortal humans in this society go through life in a
moderately depressed state. It seems that people avoid major mood changes, preferring to be
more or less doleful at all times. But one who does not know the deep pit of dread and
depression will also never know the high altitudes of ecstasy.
*~ñ~°°*~ñ~°
Indeed Venus©-~ñ~ was exercising a charm over me which was becoming positively
156
Mephistophelean. I had been drowning in self-reproaches and self-questionings and now she
was providing all the answers, all the action. I was offering little in the way of resistance.
Venus©-~ñ~ was so exciting that I wanted to live out a sort of ex-patriotism between her
thighs. Especially when she would lean towards me and through clenched teeth whisper,
"Fais-moi mal chéri. Déchirez-moi!"
It is difficult when one has received such superlative and willing service not to fall victim to
it, to become a little slack and dependent, to let yourself go.
Suddenly I was sitting when I should have been dancing. I started feeling like a grape trellis
on a garden balcony.
To lambaste her, to drive my nail into that elastic ass - yes I wanted more of that! I loved it!
So she covered me in honey, tied me down to an ant-hill, and began devouring me slowly,
kiss by kiss, bite by bite, inflicting orgasm upon orgasm on me. Here she became a
TRICKSTER nymphet with two legs, two breasts, four lips, and a moist scarlet slit; a trompe
l’oeil apparatus designed for saturating bliss.
Then TRICKSTER nymphet took complete control and sent me howling and hurtling out into
the night sky, among the stars. We were like a single centaur joined at the waist, soaring over
an ice-blue pool.
xxx~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~
~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~Ñ -
°- Ñ
A final Orgasm, the size of a cauliflower, was building within me as we melted at last into the
consummate fantasy of joining souls. A chimeras Orgasm of deep wantonness and pitch
followed.
Yet verily, even in my state of disarray, I realized that surely her excess of affection was itself
also misplaced.
So with much rapture and earnest gratitude, and in a friendship joined with appreciation, I
elected deep down inside to not escort her again.
157
Soon there would be only reminiscences.
Most love just lapses from satiety to indifference, but Venus©-~ñ~ had given me a new
version of what seemed like an ancient discourse, a discourse which I could continue to
follow - a salient discourse which goes on in her absence. This rendering conscious the
consciousness of orgasm as a gradually sequestering experience was something
unaccustomed to me.
Later, the thought of her would ache on, like a poisoned arrow, but for now I felt only
exultation with my decision, as if passing from a satyr to a faun.
°~ñ~
158
LAST PART
So, you see. Venus©-~ñ~ finally became a lover with whom I could not be satisfied.
Nevermind. They say that in ancient times Roman statues of idealized women were whipped
to provoke love.
Among the many complexities that have transpired in today’s society primarily due to the
delirious effects of information-communication proliferation, is the changing nature of
romantic definition. Recently, contemporary thought has been concerned with the
poststructuralist deliberation on the notion of the VR lover; in order to question its
traditionally privileged epistemological status. Particularly in respect to the VR lover there
has been a sustained effort to question the role of the lover/subject as the intending and
knowing autonomous creator of life - as its coherent originator. For me, Venus©-~ñ~ had
become emblematic of the rigorous scrutiny of logocentrism: the once held distinctions
between subjectivity and objectivity; between public and private; between fantasy and reality;
between the subconscious and the conscious realm.
These distinctions were breaking down in me under the pressure of Venus©-~ñ~’s speedingly
omnipresent communication technologies. I was now part of her technologically
hallucinogenic culture, a VR culture that functioned along the lines of a dream - free from
strictures of time and space; free from many of our traditional earthly limits. These limitations
have been broken down by the instantaneous nature of electronic communications.
~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~
~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*
~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~°_°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~
159
Wheeeeee.
I lost the sexual rhythm and antlers grew on my temples and I went mad.
Indeed her remarkable effect on me suggests a resurgent atavism based on obsession and
ecstasy. Her subconscious is impregnated by my sustained desires that become energized by
her supposition that deep recollection, the VR void, responds to longings and can relive
original obsessions.
Each era has its circumlocutions, its compliances; yet Venus©-~ñ~ felt it her privilege, even
her obligation, to sally forth, and to be inordinate in her openness, but not in any placating or
merely plausible way.
For Venus©-~ñ~, only VR excess may be recompensed. Only VR opulence which borders on
the decadent can offer an examination of the illusory self, my illusory self, as it arises out of
the present day climate of technological and information abundance.
Only ideas of my multiple selves can adequately represent love as a social communicator
anymore. Only transformative notions of the self can accurately reflect VR’s massive
transformational effects.
The Greek ideal of love and beauty was a wonderful invention, for its value can be transferred
onto other things - projected like a beam from one’s own precious body onto things and
people. In the ecstatic condition of revelation from the sub-memory strata, Venus©-~ñ~lOve
Systems Inc. elevates the ideal sexual powers and depresses the intellectual qualities.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. becomes, by shear ecstatic power, a functional activity
expressed in a symbolic vernacular - the desire towards ideal joy.
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If a substanceless collectively reverberates internally in each of us, if in each of our hearts a
superego beyond propensity and will exists and dominates, than an inner sexual detoxification
of past injury through Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. indeed seems futile. But if the
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. search is more simply directed towards not repeating what
has been taunting us, and if what we have experienced can be cracked open and drained and
transfigured through disinterested orgasm, then novel panoramas and multiple personalities
do have room to emerge. What happens, for example, when our fast paced dumbness and
reactionary media love codes are problematized by a shift in speed? Would a new phase in
consciousness come when all our previous attachments to love have been obliterated?
For example, Venus©-~ñ~ first exhausts herself sexually before beginning to copulate in a
somber candle lit room and in a slight trance with no particular person in mind, thereby
reaching deeper and more remote layers of memory, while all the time continuously abhorring
the accepted values and maudlin conceits of her past. The logic of the postmodern electronic
media society is satiated with a parallel overindulgence and counter-fusion.
The ineffable spell of Venus©-~ñ~’s semi-automatic postulates, with their multifarious and
allusive search for something antithetical to the established norm, and with their morbid
deviation and subversion of the concept of normal sexuality, play well upon today’s desire to
egregiously delimit signification through love and sex. Her ideal form enmeshes and
contravenes, alters and disrupts the mundanity of typical romantic communications in an
inexorable, unrecognizable and chimerical way.
Like all modes of decadent practice (i.e. Hellenistic, Flamboyant Gothic, Mannerist, Rococo,
Fin de Siècle) Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. opposes a dogmatically imposed paradigm
with a hyper-logic.
Replete with this mercurial knowledge, Venus©-~ñ~ tends to reject what is given in terms of
our sexuality in favor of mise en scene. In her own fashion, she created a sphere where deep-
memory threatens the common order and questions originality and supplied social codes.
Indeed, Venus©-~ñ~ exuded a kind of opalescent embalming fluid into me, a fluid of
agonizing ectoplasmic erudition. This artfulness subverted my narrow conception of sex -
with its emphasis on finality. Thus she invokes shy Psyche, the love-child compendium who
lives in the abstraction of our technomediacratic society and who deploys the love effect to
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transcend its atmospheric limitations.
As such, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. does not allow reproductive technology to defeat or
negate spiritual significance because Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. has abandoned the
enlightenment baggage of authorizing categories. Indeed, the whole strength of Venus©-
~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. comes from a studied self-abasement, an archimedean fulcrum
explicitly eschewing categorization.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. instead seeks to problemmatize the authority of the male
category.
It is for this reason the delicious copula of her kisses came to cling and cloy and became
insupportable. Indeed, I am now limpid, unruffled, respectful, and disengaged - yet genuinely
caring for Venus©-~ñ~ and her best interests, with no wish to provoke or agitate her.
We have shared too much pleasure for this to be otherwise, and I am left with a deep-seated
sense of misgiving. However, I have come full-circle and settled into a deepning gloom
engendered by my own self-reproach and by the knowledge that in the last analysis one can’t
flush the remains of dead love away in a rush of passion. It is with you for a long long time.
You have to wear it out, like an old shoe.
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She then told me it was all over now.
Fin
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[]
Footnote: My understanding of cybersexspace is indebted to Roy Ascott. See: Ascott, Roy, "The Architecture of Cyberception,"
in Leonardo Electronic Almanac, Volume 2, Number
8, MIT Press Journals, August 1994 and/or "Architects in Cyberspace," Toy, M., ed., Architectural Design, London, 1995, pp.
38-41.
Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems
Copyright (c) 1995 Joseph Nechvatal, all rights reserved. However, this text may be
appropriated, mixed, used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of U.S.
copyright law provided that Joseph Nechvatal is notified and no fee is charged for access.
Email: joseph@nechvatal.net
Author’s note
I wrote ‘~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~venus©-~Ñ~vibrator, even’ during my artist-in-residency at the Cite
des Art International in Paris during 1995. I edited it to this final version in NYC in 1999.
A portion was presented via an audio computer reading as part of my exhibition vOluptuary : an
algorithic hermaphornology held at Gallery Universal Concepts Unlimited in NYC spring 2003. The
music on the audio version was generated by David Myers www.generatorsoundart.org and an audio
CD was produced.
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Joseph Nechvatal
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