~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~venus©-~Ñ~vibrator, even (Part I)

Author’s note: What you find here is only Part I of a 102 page (39,907 word) cyber-sex farce which I wrote during my artist-in-residency at the Cite des Art International in Paris during 1995, and which I finally edited in NYC in 1999. It is part of my exhibition called "Satyricon 2000" - held from 10.26.00 - 12.02.00 at Gallery UNIVERSAL CONCEPTS UNLIMITED in NYC (WWW.U-C-U.com).
As the layout and typefaces used are an integral part of the piece’s aesthetic merit – also it contains 22 images which I made for it – this web presentation is only a small taste of the full work. I am selling the full work in a small desktop paper artist’s edition of 100. Copies can be purchased directly from me for the price of $100.00 each. If interested, please write me at: joseph_nechvatal@hotmail.com.

Les Bacchanales de Venus©-~ñ~:
Of EuphOric LOve PrOgrams
and a hundred Other things


Part I

Headsex 101 : Decadence >< Divinity

It is invariably enchanting to wake up in an unaccustomed bedroom. The allure of the novel wallpaper, the unfamiliar pictures, the disposition of the windows and doors - all faultily grasped in the obscure light of nightfall – reveal themselves on opening one’s eyes the following morning. In this mood, in this fancy, it is thoroughly delectable for me to recall for you last evening’s soirée, when the fervent bacchanal of Venus©-~ñ~ commenced.
>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.

* launch Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems program
* lock Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems rumination
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.
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.
How decorous and inviting it indeed was.
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 Venus©-~ñ~lOve System, with these erudite and comely words:
" Cher Amies –
The enormous expansion of the Venus©-~ñ~lOve System as a post-viral marketing sensation allows us the opportunity to trace the movement of society’s effective passion from the dissolution of personal romantic sentiment and into its recent regeneration as collective abstraction: cybersex as critical social theory, as meta-idea, as sign-vehicle, as representation of inner states, as ideas about the discourse of love, and as a source of archeological information about sex itself. The erecting of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems has been driven by a world-wide renewal of desire brought about through the production, representation and distribution of every possible craving, but from outside the disquisition of fantasy as ordinary human passion. Passion now has become a sentiment less devout and more promiscuous, one which criticizes the discourse of traditional rapport, for such affection still functions as the standard, measuring the distance and difference to which this simulated sentimentality goes, and indicating from whence it has come.
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."

She had our rapt attention.
There was some applause,
and she continued.

" 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 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."

Polite, but extensive, applause.

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!"

More prolific applause and cheering.
What confusion and bravo that womanthing stirred in us!
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 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.
I love you , Venus©-~ñ~.
I really do. I need you.
I will never make you cry.
My memories of the ball were beginning to turn me affectionate.
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.
I couldn’t guess why.

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".
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.


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