~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~venus©-~Ñ~vibrator, even






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.








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.


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 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.

Through it all the orchestra kept playing.

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, 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!


They have obstructed the following: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{

alt. Dr. Caliga’s aficionado’s closeout

alt. Hermes’s exposed clique register

alt. Dee’s fraudulent jack swap site

alt. Three Fate’s Whack Shack

alt. The Pope’s erotica collection

alt. hOles - the royal family

alt. nude inebriated celebrities

alt. sOOty silk sheets

alt. The sleeping lass interchange

alt. erotica. Vestal homunculus site

alt. erotica. amapunk room

alt. erotica. one balled hunk hop

alt. erotica bottom bondage retail store

alt. erotica. hack drivers cabaret

alt. erotica. golf pros

alt. fetishist collector’s auction house

alt. erotica. furry spherical things

alt. erotica. female horse opera

alt. erotica. gagmen’s makeup rump room

alt. erotica. male stool aggregate bin

alt. erotica. Alaskan pOOntang iglOO

alt. erotica. tasteless bOOty bar

alt. old girlfriend’s notebooks

alt. nude immersion summa rink

alt. bashfull frontally exposed rapper hutch

alt. succumbed superhung chat box

alt. tasteless amateur video showroom

alt. Miles’S butt harp site

alt. the Hylas erotic art crabmeat

alt. Erotic Religions

alt. eunuch’s question office

alt. goat-king genital exchange

alt. Hiatus celeb head chamber

alt. Ayn Rand’s ideal foreplay hutch

alt. unexplained danglings

alt. the Rimm punishment hollow

alt. microsoftporn brotherhood

alt. mag.plasticboy plug-in

alt. pornographic charger presentation

alt. trollop secrets of sex

alt. moody sex

alt. pantyhose situations

alt. soul mate search center

alt. perfectly blue eyes board

alt. Bacon’s puntang pair off

alt. personal polka-folks sex club

alt. personal bondage check

alt. personal sky dive sex interchange

alt. Dr. Dick’s length fetishist barter shop

alt. huge hooter CAR

alt. personal hang-up headquarters

alt. personal police anal hut

alt. personal spanking mentor

alt. personal thump track

alt. sack punishment area

alt. politics: homosexuality

alt. politics of winter sex

alt. polyamory ambrosia

alt. objectification of women peep hole

alt. seduction.> some first moves

alt. sexy bald captains quarters

alt. pierced fisted supermodels

alt. support.> men

alt. support.> jock workshop

alt. transgendered waffler advisory location

alt.transgendered mutants

alt. tasteless nude opera initiation point

alt. tasteless. pale pud palace

alt. tasteless.penis cutting station

alt. wanted. Clinton pics

alt. wanted. ball licking links

alt. sex.cock-love advocacy

alt. sex anal plantation

alt. sex. cock milking bequest fund

alt. hot Hanna alignment locality

alt. sex.bestiality Barney bar

alt. sex.power and powder bondage den

alt. sex. Frigga’s constraint tank

alt. sex.boredom in the bedroom space

alt. sex.> pecker whittling post

alt. sex.corn-hole hunt club

alt. bull-footed whimpering sadists

alt. sex. homosexual marriages

alt. sex. the enema freak cavern

alt. sex.erotica. menstration miasma

alt. sex. exhibitionism flashing point

alt. raunchy cowboy sex outpost

alt shaved mounds display hub

alt. sex.fetish.powdered pussies lounge

alt. sex.fetish.diaper efflorescence crib

alt. sex.fetish.fascism Holdings

alt. sex.fetish.fashion Audit

alt. sex.fetish.Raw Meat to Please niche

alt. sex.fetish.hampster diving nook

alt. sex.fetish.oriental food fight Arena

alt. sex.fetish.9-way Love Cell

alt. sex.fetish.tart-wear outlet

alt. sex.La Mere fetish.starholes

alt. sex.fetish.the tickling box

alt. sex.fetish.razor’s end

alt. sex.fetish.waifs lost and found rack

alt. sex.fetish.the wanderer correlation

alt. sex.first-time advise office

alt. sex.the fish - sex connection

alt. sex.the he-she exchange terminal

alt. sex.the butts and guns club

alt. sex. too big for condoms

alt. sex.three-headed bitch kitty hell

alt. sex.Rod’s homosexual police cell

alt. sex.somnambulist dream axis

alt. sex.inter intelligent queens tit-chat

alt. sexy crazy cool crack chat

alt. sex.dry sex advice assembly

alt. sex.auto-masturbation retail store

alt. sex.road-sex quandary depot

alt. sex.the bad sex partnership zone

alt. sex.necrophilia exchange receptacle

alt. sex.naughty thought links

alt. sex.peeling skin post

alt. Dionysus wantonness links

alt. sex.the gallant kiss rostrum

alt. sex.mutual hot body oiling cluster

alt. sex.delectation and flagellation cell

alt. sex.Political scandal picks archive

alt. sex.pictures ~effeminate stallion shelter

alt. sex.comprimised swans

alt. sex.11inches blades

alt. sex. inner doubt inn

alt. sex.safe-cracks

alt. sex. loud the heart knocks

alt. sex. enflamed flamenco dance leeway

alt. sex.drunk.boss room

alt. slurping sex sound studio

alt. sex.role-reversed pat chamber

alt. imprudent shaving instruction spot

alt. sex.the long dong silver gorge

alt. sex.non-silicon strip shillelagh

alt. sex.swingers Parisian holiday

alt. spatch.extremity erotica compound

alt. support.anal.probe clinic

alt. support. urinate.in-public clinic

alt. support.Vulcan jock-strap bay

alt. support. bad men clinic

alt. sex.60’s swingers clinic

alt. disco dancers rhetorical dispensary

alt. The girl - horse connection

alt. sex at ox-meet

alt. sex with the wife alert

alt. sex.wanted

alt. sex.wounds

alt. sex.wickedness

alt. sex.zoophilia


aus.sex berth coterie

aus.sex.bondage barn

can.men> the sent <crack

clari.news.intruders copulation cottage

clari.news.anal sex toys for boys lodge

clari.news.spandex fun warehouse

clari.tw.health.hamster alert posting

clari.news.women who tease

clari.news.Wilt’s 20,000

de.alt. fiery phallus

de.alt. exhausted lover exchange

dealt. gourmand in the act rack

fido. Ate’s energetic lick clique

fido. group. cybersex sailors union

fido. sex with German girls fan club

rec. fishnet-penetration story board

misc.healthclub and tea room

ne. the Montel good looks shelter

ne. prehistoric dildo collection

rec. bullfight erotica archive

sci. Gort’s cosmic sex saloon

soc. Jewish heavy petting acumen

soc.support. transgendered self gratifiers


talk.abnormal hubby

talk. suds

triangular. black ass fixation site

triangle. style obsession affiliation

uc.jb’s sex-machine fantasy alliance

ucb.Keith Sweat’s sensual flossing class

ucd.digital black orgasm group

uiuc.org.digit-bisexual cock clique

uiuc.soc.the trisexual trip tag along

uw.alt. sex.rueful beater

uw.alt. sex.Yeastiality conference

uw.alt flexible self-suckers fun vault

uw.alt. animal sex.immersion deck

gay-net.so out me already slot

gay-net. anti-hetero no blow fellowship

gay-net. bad taste hysteria front

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Oui, all of these sites have been at least partially restricted, blocked or encoded!


The ©VENUS©-~Ñ~s©ftware Inc.grOpe opposes any and all non-imaginative cryptic restriction in the open frontier of computer links and we call for an epoch of freedom and experimentation with love. It is this purpose which we intend to serve with our full-bOdied immersion fantasy software products. Such freedom and diversity offers society an expansion of the VENUS©-~Ñ~libid as of yet unrealized and uncalculated. Yet it is this sort of mysterious outcome, this infectious inexactitude, that is going to drive market sales to unimaginable heights.

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."


substantial applause and hoots.


"Merci. Merci. Merci.

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.


"Oui, auras-tu donc toujours des yeux pour ne point voir,

peuple ingrat? Quoi?

Toujours les plus grandes merveilles!"


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.



She continued to speak:

"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."




"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.




"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 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."




"Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s purpose is to present all possible sex-machine virtual relationships with total interconnectedness, for as Andréa Hilt has explained in hir book "Sex Without Walls", we now may live in a truly international VR universalism. This VR summa, with its sheer quantity of erotic information, is the basis for the VRsex-computer linkage my full-body fashions provide. The results will be a panoply of possible Venus©-~ñ~lOve combination/permutations of libidinous fantasy!"


hoots and howls of joy.

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."


expanded bold applause.


"Today we are aware that electronic structures make complex statements in and of 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.




Before, we thOught, saw and fucked in a linear manner, one person after another, one woman 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.

TeleseXual presencE is the antithesis to linear tunnel love. It is an all-at-once penetration of a multiplicity of sexual pOsitions, with extensions in all dimensions that allows us to interact fully with the values of our age of desire. Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s TeleseXual presencE means instant global VE interaction with a thousand sex partners - being with them all virtually at the same time.


TeleseXual presencE’s role is in providing Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems post-biological shifting representations of telematic VE-fantastic sex worlds - and of inventing alternative sexual realities.

Hence, VLS LOVE© TeleseXual presencE defines the new post-human sexual identity."






~~~~What an effulgent re-collection.




Sinking rearward into my pliably-warm Venus© Tauromachie Cyberth, I, jnech, am enjoying the playback of Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s hype/oration enormously - with its 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.

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 captivated me by its expanding on my quixotic affairs - as a psychedelic glamour might.


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.



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.







"…...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 hard drive.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{Churlish Sparky Display / NYC /summer 88/.html

http:// Mendes/Ptolemaic Egypt/ outtakes.u/~fox

http://www.Alice /Wild Vulva

http://Céline/.way./try.Tina & Jounce/Art Dept.

Hedonistic Page http:/Odile.ele.toe.nl/peg/model.html

http://web.cs.ubc.ca/Susan/alt. pantyhose/index


http://www.glock.Anna/ rapacious./gob

http://www.gluet sheets.edu/~wife abandon/.beg/out

http://www.hot.fi/~Erica/virgin/ do.html

http://we/.Leticia/~husband probe/dick/pics.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?


Bus trip: http://www.Claudia.com/~nimble/

Fetishist http://Ken Russel fan/~Betty/body/big toe

Body Mesmerizing: http://www.io.org/~Tina/

The Price of Fol38-25-36./~Birgit/


Coco: http://www.web-cum cum/Borgès/capricious

http:/www.art opening.an.cum/Jacqueline/sexual.html

Sophie Pica Files: http://minf.vub.ac.be/French/pieces

Fauna: http://nude beach.net.au/summer

Leggy: http://www.high school.cum/parking lot

outpost orgy: Nancy.net/Prom Night/33

Rainbow Room: http://www.acs.open.sex/Cindy/strapless/

CBGB: http://head server.- Lidia Lunched/mblga/OK/~~Salo

Lap Dancing–Jocelyn NYC

ford.model- Paris/~Ms.Renford/one time only/.hôtel

Explicit - documented:

http://www.hip.com/fun/ Venice/eclipse. catalog.html

http://www.Monica/outdoors/ants a prob.

Country: http://www.ag.com/Chantal/uncultured

(exotic Asian models):

http://hk.Loretta super.net:22/~/dance club - swank

Hotel Noire: http://www.Françoise (repeat) wine.cum/cried/hotel/humain.html

Isabel Erotic: America.cum/hot/xtreme.html

Ultimate Crystal Night: cum/back/standing KH//strip./ hôtel Florence/html:looking out window

NYC One Nighters

http://NYC 40.cs.du.edu:1/~Sharon/nyc/Yanks game

Robin: http://nyc.cs.dinner/her/home.html - stormy

Delphine: http://party.cum/~cheat/redhead.html

Nudie Cloe Listing: http://wow./black/built

Jeanette access.deep./~silicone/nudeclub.html/rubbery

Rita (list of dates): http://zoom.ln.cum/fun/37c

Communal Hippie Twilight Concert; names lost http://Bunny/Paris/shack/good vibe/rt./index.html

Paula’s Residence S.F: http://www.quick.com/legs

Married Women Torment


Caroline :http://www.digimarks.net/wrath/cum.html

http://www.Columbia.edu mistake/Catherine.//html


http://erau.Simonetta Ed/~kinky/Chinese


http://Tamera.edu/Isis troubled/hand


Excelsior Lulu Services.

http://www.io.org/Linda excels/

Telecentral Christine cat: http://www.Nicole net/~

Primal Wendy dating.http://netmedia.com/date/1st

Links Sylvie Sex http://hoohoo.excited shank /juiuc.edu/ftp-finger

Links Elizabeth sex sites. http://wow Jean.aau.dk/~scratches/sex.html

http://www.Rosemarie.cum access/by-adult/

//Anna’s mom’s apt/fireplace

NOW Plezure VE Guide Sex-Tips


Livia - one long one // chortle coated: http://www.Maggie.com/LA../ht ml/kitchen floor.html

Secret Sex with Constance Resource Directory: http://www.Briggite.cum/Lily/home couch.html

Arians Resources Directory: http://www.car.cum//.html/

http://fuk dat

nurse Alice ://unrestrained hospital./ht ml

Body Painting: http://wow./Rebecca/cs.cmu.party/

Zooney /co-worker/underwater/html/unconfirmed

Cady:fireside: http://www.loud.cum/~open

NYC VE party pair off:

http://.cum/name unknown/cdrom.html/

http:// Nicky.edu/yahoo/Society Culture/Sex//

http://lasoo.Jana./Cornet./Spanish/nut/es.alt. sex

Chicago Ohair Airport Lounge (

links to unusual one nighters)


Slippery When Wet Shimmer/cross linked by name:


Aoa : Movie House -L.A/ sad sex~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{



There. All done.

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.



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.

All that remains is total surrender............... And then

there is Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s

Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©!


Oui, with Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©! you can again feel your worth, vitality and intensity returned to you. With Venus©-~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~! CyberX prOgrams©! SX-univerae. Open your legs and your eyes and your orifices as wide as they possibly can go. Now, insert Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©! SX-univerae.


That’s right.

Click OK



Now here we go ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>>>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Fun, huh?


But before we continue, please - first scan your Venus©-~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!!

Great. Now let’s move to the next level.

Please notice the ring-shaped notes in the upcoming program Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS and make sure there are no medical dangers involved for you before proceeding.

Here the attempt is no longer to imitate sexual behavior but to imaginativly emulate it.



Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Program: Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS




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~! CyberX prOgrams©! VRMUD repeat the following statement of intent on commencing:

*** WE ARE GATHERED TO PROVIDE A VE-GATE for Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator. ***


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator then says "I am here for Venus©-~ñ~ lOve.

HERE I ASSUME the hyperreal Venus©-~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.


Running Venus©-~ñ~! CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS lOOp.







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.


The Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator cries:



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




Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Main Operator HALLUCINA-FLESH PrOgram lOck : PROVIDING Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems SELF ABANDONMENT PROGRAMMING >>>

A sub menu of Venus©-~ñ~!CyberX prOgrams©! SUD-PENUS





I AM THE Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems SPERM PRODUCING RAM©



A Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems DRAGON BY INTENTION




I WEAR THE Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems MASK OF SELF-LOVE


WITH Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems UNDERSKIRT





MY Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems LOVE FLOWS unCONSUMED


Now all Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems participants shOut: FORGET THE FEAR AND TROUNCE FLESH!

The MO continues: I AM Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems SUD-PENUS!

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!

The conclusion to this program slot is provided by the participants.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~~ ~ñ~~~ñ~~ñ~~ñ~


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s S U D -P E N U S provides the user with an innermost identity, the process of becoming, or unfolding into ones own Venus©-~ñ~male identity.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~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.

VLS LOVE© nOte: One element of the Venus©-~ñ~! ~SUD-PENUS biocontroller program lacking is the prosthetic element of surpassing rupture. It’s up to the other Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOt-people involved in this program-rite to devise some way of arching the signal program while keeping in the electronic spirit of it, and thus catch the hyperbody to be initiated off-guard. For this Venus©-~ñ~lOve System reminds you that in VRsex culture one possess not one, but many hyper-bodies, and Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOts can transfer the user’s hyper-essence between Venus©-~ñ~lOve System-bodies as circumstances warrant, into:

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOt hardwood bodies,

anthropomorphic bodies,

rainbow bodies,

quadruped bodies,


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s VRseX rObOt cloudbodies.


VRseX rObOt cloudbody ©


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.


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.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems

Venus©-~ñ~billowbOodies’s cyberspace — this imaginative territory which stretches out from VE-hypertext to the world wide computer network, from virtual reality simulation to VE video games - is the domain of the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody digital bride, a pOrnO-program engaged in sexual activity without place; reduplicating without duplication, reiterating without repeating. For Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody, cybersex is a coldly concerted and particularly dizzying activity. It is a sexual activity lost in an infinite navigation from one sort of encounter to another in which the affirmation of the Other keeps appearing and disappearing in the play of bio-mechanical maneuvers - or micro-mechanisms - destined to avert gratification. This is where the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus - in repeating itself ad infinitum with its descriptions, explanations, and commentaries - functions in transmitting the power of the Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody to function as an alter-ego.

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 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.


Then your Venus©-~ñ~billowbOody bio-bachelor apparatus data code image structure system will become a redescription and redefinition dive into past relationship program agendas. Your content mission may now data-empower you to navigate a pathway to:

THE Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER!

What is the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER archetype program?

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.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER often begins in the void.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER represents the breaking free of negative power from the order of earlier sex experiences.

As a shape-shifter, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER is all things to all users at one time or another - often simultaneously.

It points at your E-mperor’s nakedness as it

holds up a skewed mirror of reality for you to look into.

So this is Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER, the cOde that allows you to break out of your stereotypes, whether they’ve been imposed by yourself, your family, or your culture. This is the energy which opens up your Orifice to limitless possibilities and it behOOves you to make use of this program for seXual elevation.


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER merges you within the non-institutional 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.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER references the field of proto-telematic erOtic art culture. Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER has been designed to paradigm sexual connectivity expertise within hyper conceptually spread VE networks which embody dis-embodied individual system preferences.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER cOde can be considered a chaotic creator event in the bubbling chaos at the center of the VLS seX universe. Butt, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER is not described as specifically being concerned with the promulgation or representation of sex chaos.


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER code prefers the insignificance of seXual hors d’oeuvres.


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.

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 Venus©-~ñ~body-suit lOOp.


Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation has been working on Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation was starting to worry about self-censorship - that Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation might be internalizing some. Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation might be writing what people expect Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation to write, writing from that place where Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation might be ruled by economic considerations. To overcome that, Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales started working with dreams, working at trying to find a kind of language where Venus©-~ñ~Sex~Incantation won’t be so easily modulated by expectation. Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales is looking for what might be called a hyper-body language. One thing Venus©-~ñ~lOve System fairy tales does is to stick a vibrator up its cunt and start writing - writing from the point of Orgasm and losing control of the language.

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.


Btw : Venus©-~ñ~lOve System women have cocks too~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!

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 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.




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.

Also available in drive-in (car-jack) models.


VLS LOVE© nOte: WHEN BUYING A VE-CYBRATOR SUIT: Don’t make buying a cybrator suit a traumatizing experience.


Just click here:

VLS LOVE©.Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems




Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s LOVE© Shower Body Suit Massagers make a wonderful variation on the classic VR-body vibrator, and if you enjoy the warmth and wetness of the new VLS LOVE© LOVE TUB, you probably want to consider investing in a shower body suit massager like the Venus©-~ñ~Wet Sex Suit System, VLS LOVE© Dive-in Venus©-~ñ~-brator, or LOVE© Shower Immersion Organ Massager.




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.


VLS LOVE© nOte: Before using any mechanical-computer body-vibrator, apply lubrication!


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.

Cyberators do not cause long-term desensitization.


All VR vibrate!……~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~VLS LOVE©



Open the personal Venus©-~ñ~member massager force field flap of your sex receptor end 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!……………………..~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********************




Hyperreal cybernetic ~Sex Host Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Data on Braless Venus©-~ñ~ Confab. This Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems file is parsed by the VLSTPV domain name resolve and the resource records are loaded into the resolve’s cache. The Hosts file follows a Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems SUBSEX of the Master File Format (see rfc1035 pg. 33). Each line in this file has the form: <domain-name> <RR> [<comment>] <domain-name> is an absolute domain name (see rfc1034 pg. 11). <RR> = [<Tel>] [<class>] <type> <drat> OR [<class>] [<Tel>] <type> <drat> jn addendum starts with ";" or by a line jiggling.

VLS LOVE© nOte: My own feelings on this subject are that from the moment I was spat out 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.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~non implanted ass is always IN, VR-Tel is in seconds, type can be 38", CAME or 39".


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems VRBardot

;knowAll.Venus©-~ñ~.com. A ; address of host knowAll.Venus©-~ñ~.com.

;Venus©-~ñ~.com. NS knowAll.Venus©-~ñ~.com. ; Venus©-~ñ~.com name server

;. NS knowAll.Venus©-~ñ~.com. ; root name server


;myHost.Venus©-~ñ~.com. nymphet IN 604800 A ; Tel of 38-25-37

; Sex.Venus©-~ñ~.com. A

;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

drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu. A

sears.com. A

~ñ~ hal.hotfor.ed. A

halcyon.halcyon.com. A

halcyon.com. CAME halcyon.halcyon.com.

irc.netsys.com. A

nwnexus.wa.com. A

nwfocus.wa.com. A

skynet.lapup.access.net. A VLS LOVE©

scent. hot for.MH. A

rs6a.wln.com. A

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, 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.



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 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.

Venus©-~ñ~ retrieved herself with a flourish and hastened near.







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.







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 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.

I had entitled it "The Denial of Denial".


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 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 softens, promotes intimacy, and deepens trust between the participants.

For example, take my "dIVINE sEXUALITY".

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems heart

and develop an imaginative Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Orgasmic


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.

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 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.


Venus©-~ñ~ was watching me sulk with an indulgent and clairvoyant eye.

"I know what," she said. "Let’s go slumming!" I immediately seconded her and she pressed my hand.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s

+Les Metamorphoses de Venus©-~ñ~+



DIM 1 V$(9,5)

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INPUT#1,NINFECTION Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems



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Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems IF K=3 THEN G$=H$+"-"+STR$(NINFECTION)+".B"OPEN"O",#1,G$,,W%LONG IF NICOLE<=250FOR I=1 TO ALIGN



ELSEFOR I=1 TO ALIGNPRINT#1,M$(1,I)PRINT#1,M$(2,I)NEXT IEND IFCLOSE#1NEXT KEND ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ °°°°°°°°°°°*-*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~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.



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.

The Symbol of this cult is a torch between two Goats horns.


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.

Nous ne pouvons plus qu’attendre et mourir.

Nous sommes, dorénavant, tous égaux.


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 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.

Le rêve impossible du nymphomane en nous enchante le satyre en nous.Nous nous mettons à parler de la façon dont tous les modèles politiques de contrôle et d’information ne reposent que sur la confiance que l’on accorde à leur crédibilité et sur l’acceptation sans réserve de leur compétence; de la façon dont tous les systèmes et les ordres établisproduisent immanquablement des réactions conditionnées, tout en prétendant être la seule et unique source de liberté et de vérité. L’ordre se propage et s’installe. Le contrôle est total. Le pouvoir est offert comme salut. L’idée même de responsabilité est abandonnée. Nous laissons faire? Nous devenons de plus en plus conditionnés. Nous nous habillons pour le rituel. Autour de nous, la vie palpite et prolifère sa pléthore de rejetons. Prolifération alarmante, d’ailleurs. Il nous est difficile de l’observer de l’extérieur, puisque nous en faisons partie. Notre corps en est composé. L’expérience peut être trompeuse si elle n’est pas interprétée par la faculté intégrante de l’intelligence. Nous pensons que notre conscience est une conscience globale, située dans un point de référence fictif élaboré dans l’espace du temps. Notre problème c’est de croire que les choses sont telles qu’elles paraissent, telles que nous les pensons, ou que nous sommes ce que nous pensons être. C’est cela notre prison.

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.


En fait, ce que nous montre la logistique de la technologie,

c’est que la chair a disparu. Il ne reste que vitesse,

guerre et orgie.


FRENCH MANNERS : Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Sex Manners for Men:

While engaged in VRsex with a nymphet at the orgy, void using common grunts, such as "ohhh" or "unnn" or "oooooo"; use a paraphrase.


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.


When exquisite wOmen love:

The Horse is sex energy. Man, rule thine performance.

How else shalt thou master the

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 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.




Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems IMMERSION hyperreality LINKS


The Secret Love of Dimness



The Fanciful Cities of Jocose



~The Passage~



~Fairy Tales of the Augur~



~Arab Magicka Annihilation~



~La Majalamic~









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.

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.


Oui ~ñ~ Oui

Dans cette expérience de l’atemporalité, la compréhension de la négation métaphysique augmente la possibilité de survie. Nous savons que certaines zones vitales manquent. Nous avons été réduits à une pure apparence dépourvue de conscience de soi et de sagesse. Nous avons été confrontés à une dissolution bien plus totale que la mort. Nous dormons. Nous nous débattons. Nous avons été conditionnés, nous avons été amenés par le chantage à l’auto-restriction, à une perception de plus en plus étroite de nous-mêmes, de notre importance, de notre grandeur.

L’acceptation, c’est la défaite.

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.

Cela a été à fois béni et maudit.

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ELEMENTS simulacrum


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.

Oui ~ñ~ Oui

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.

La position assumée est importante.

La cérémonie des affaires et le surnaturel sont conçus pour être liés de manière invisible. Une fois que la tension rituelle est dirigée de manière délibérée, la roue du pouvoir occulte se met à tourner; les impulsions ainsi générées peuvent alors tendre avec une grande énergie vers des sphères plus élevées. Les gens suffisamment sensibles, comme nous, peuvent sentir les vibrations qui s’irradient lorsqu’un rite occulte a lieu. Nous levons les mains, nous nous soulevons sur la pointe des pieds pour assister à la formation du point central à travers lequel la puissance sera concentrée et projetée.

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.

Le sexe en est un autre. Le sexe crée

une énergie vibratoire qui naît spontanément, comme la vapeur surgit d’un marais tropical pendant l’été.


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.


Oui ~ñ~ Oui

A snake on your shoulder strives to share

an astonishing secret.

"Dont be so fuckin self-dramatizing!"



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, 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.

Dans cet order fermé, l’effet est celui de la débauche.

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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Hey You---



connect with your intimate

and powerful self,

access boundless




Enjoy endless




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 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.



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

Nous ous sommes Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Mégamour.

Nous sommes le débordement extatique.




Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems


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.

Her eyes met mine with equal languor.

"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.




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.

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




So I wondered, what would the latest VEsite Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems had in development

be like exactly?




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.

I myself - at that moment - have no history, no meaning, no conscience, no desire - which is too staid a situation to be left alone fingering around some vague end. We have seen what that has done to the US where the unrestricted ocular environment was left to be dictated by supervisional concerns. It will end up withdrawing and closing itself like some frightened circular space at the periphery of an infinitely attenuated and adipose entry.

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.


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":


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AIR©: Direction: East.

Rules:The mind, liberty,(Exalt or Repress at Will)

all mental, intuitive and psychic influence, erudition,

hypothetical erudition, hung theory, windswept hills, plains, blowing

beaches, high mount peaks, high towers, corkscrews and proclivity.

Time: Sunrise.

Season: Spring.

Colors: White, effulgent yellow, crimson, blue-white.

Signs of the Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius.

Tools: Atmosphere, blade, cerebral balls.

Spirits: Sylphs, ruled by

Top dog Paroled.

Angel: Michael.

Name of the East Wind: Eurasia.

Sense: Scent.

Jewel: Topaz.

Incense: Galbanum.

Plants: Frankencense, myrrh, pansy, primrose, vervain, violet,


Log: Aspen.

Animals: Bird.

Goddesses: Aradia, Arianrhod, Cardea, Nuit, Urania.

Gods: Enlil, Khephera, Mercury, Shu, Thoth.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEX FIRE©: Direction: South.

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.

Signs of the Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.

Tools: Certainty rod.

Spirits: Salamanders, ruled by Czar Din.

Angel: Ariel.

Name of the South Wind: Notus.

Sense: Vision.

Jewel: Discharge Opal.

Incense: Olibanum.

Plants: Garlic, hibiscus, mustard, nettle, onus, red peppers, cherry


Tree: Almond, in flower.

Animals: Conflagration-breathing serpents, lions, horses when their horns inflame sparks.

Goddesses: Brigit, Hestia, Peel, Vesta.

Gods: Agony, Hephaestus, Horus, Vulcan.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEX WATER©: Direction: West.

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.

Colors: Ribald blush, lush, hoary indigo, sooty.

Signs of the Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces.

Tools: Cup.

Spirits: Undress, ruled by Master Niches.

Angel: Raphael.

Name of the West Wind: Zephyrs.

Sense: Taste.

Jewel: Aquamarine.

Incense: Myrrh.

Plants: Ferns, lotus, mosses, rushes, seaweed, pool lilies, and

liquid pitch.

Log: Wind-swept.

Animals: Dragons, coral snakes, dolphins

and porpoises, seafood, seals and billow mammals, water-dwelling snakes, all amalgamated creatures and dandy birds.

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Isis, Mariamne, Mari, Teammate.

Gods: Delay, Ea, Llyr, Manannan, Osiris, Neptune, Poseidon.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEX EARTH©: Direction: North.

Rules: The flesh, expansion, fission, support, material accumulation, assets, creativity, blood, curtains, silence, chasms, caves, caverns,

groves, playground, shimmy, unused stones, rise, crystal, jewels, amalgam.

Time: Midnight.

Season: With angles.

Colors: Raven, tan, youthful, milky.

Signs of the Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn.

Tool: Perfume.

Spirits: Gnomes, ruled by Emperor Gob.

Angel: Gabrielle.

Name of the North Flatulence: Bores, Option.

Sense: Touch.

Jewel: Undulate crystal, bite.

Incense: Stores.

Plants: ivy, grains: baroque obelisk, can, rich man, sack, seed of chaff.

Log: Oak.

Animals: Cow, bull, bitch, snakes, stud.

Goddesses: Creeps, Demurer, Gee, Ah, Nephthys, Persephone,

Prithivi, Rhea, Rhino.

Gods: Adonis, Ethos, Arawn, Cernunnos, Dionysus, Marduk, Pan,


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEX ETHER©: Direction: Heart and periphery,

over and connected .

Rules: Transcendence, transformation, switch, everywhere and nowhere, within and without, the void, immoderation.

Time: Beyond duration, all spread is one.

Season: The arching sprocket.

Colors: Irreproachable, white, ebony.

Tools: Cavalier rubbing oil.

Sense: Grasp.

Plant: Mistletoe.

Log: The flowering pick.

Fleshly: Bewilderment.

Goddesses: Isis, the Secret Name of the Goddess, Shekinah.

Gods: Kasha, IAO, JHVH.




Such phallocratic exchanges with Venus©-~ñ~ had built in me an overwhelming desire to make her pregnant. We had entered upon the scope of cybernetic attachment where the physical and the mental couple and I realized that I had opened up something inside her mind by our exchanges, that I had primed her, and if we were not careful she would become impregnated. It was as if I had hypnotized her into this delicious satyriasis; she was dying to feel, to prosper and harvest my orgasms.

So, as we began to make love off in a corner of the leeway, I constrained myself, and to hold off when we came near to climax. I hung back, as if reluctant, but in fact only to sharpen her 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.

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.


"Your smiling", she said. "Have I done something effulgent?"

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.



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.


Yes, the hate had dulled and I had succumbed to love. Indeed, Venus©-~ñ~ had released my tears.

As I showered, I dreamed of a future with Venus©-~ñ~ in which we would literally weave, like a tissue with our kisses and caresses, our offspring programs. I visualized the spool upon which time is wound in the ancient Greek sense and the coming programs which contain in it them elements from which a full love program would spring .....but, shit, I was musing in a dream-world worthy of Lewis Carol.... complete with a forest of puns and weird spoonerisms .....and I became a trifle plaintive.

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.


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:


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.


(^The 8 GOAT Statements of Simulacrum-Hyperreality ^)

1.GOAT represents indulgence instead of abstinence.

2.GOAT represents vital existence instead of romantic pipe dreams.

3.GOAT represents undefiled erudition instead of hypocritical self-deceit.

4.GOAT represents sexiness to those who deserve it instead of love wasted on ingrates.

5.GOAT represents rear openness instead of turning the other cheek.

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.

Make alliance to GOAT ISLAND. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{

Freedom of Sexual expression is what America is about.

Freedom of information is what the VRNet is about!

It is not our intent to offend, only to be free.


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.






ADDICT-L (mature discussion sex related topics)




ALTERNATES (open sexual lifestyle discussion)


ARTAMAZONS (Art Amazons Int.)


AMEND-DISCUSS (Gay/less/BI legislation)


AERIAL-L (bisexuality)


AUGLBC-L (AT: Gay, Lees, and By Comm.)


AUSGBLF (Australian Gay, Bi, Lees)


BA-SPAY (Bay Area Lees)


Chicago BEARS (Gay and Bi men)


EJINTVIO (Journal of Intimate Violence)




FEMSUPREM (Female supremacy & domino.)

To subscribe: Subject: subscribe -

Leave message section blank

Mail to: femsuprem-request@renaissoft.com

FL-MOATS (Florida GB)


GAY-LIB (Gay/Les/Bi librarians Net)


GENET (Campus GB Issues)


Gay Networks Mailing List


GA-AB (Bondage & SM for Gays & Lesbians)


GLBPO (LB of color)


Slant (gay South Asians)


LA-BOOTS (Los Angeles)


LAMB (GB Kentucky)


LEG PSYCH (Led/Gay/Big)


PC-MOOTS (Portland, OR)


QSTUDY-L (Les, gay, Bi studies)




RECOVERY (Childhood Sexual Abuse)


SPAT (gay & Bi women)


SEX-L (General Sexual Issues)






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.

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.

"It doesn’t go far enough.", she said.

Shocked, I let my amorous fancy perform a dozen pretty tricks on me - playing with the idea of a rearward sacrifice to EXTRA LOVE. We all felt an exquisite little quiver pass through us from head to heels when Venus©-~ñ~ said, "I get it now. EXTRA LOVE Techno-VRsex culture can only emerge from this ocular sea as a product of art. Click on Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ARTAMAZONS to advance."

"Go on! Don’t be so boring!!"

Someone in our party then, it was Venus©-~ñ~ herself, clicked on the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems ARTAMAZONS VE address and off like a bullet we went. Nothing could have resisted the insinuating skill of her fingers, not even, I dare affirm, the virtue of a most hardened prude.

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:




Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s






"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.


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 :


Days of Fun and Flagellation

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.


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.

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.

And they were being milked too!

Venus©-~ñ~ gave out with a shriek of nymphet joy.

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.






Oui ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~ñ~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ Oui


Anal Lover

Backseat Strut

Back in the Pen

The Penetrator

Behind the Blinds

Bubble Butt

Anal Intruder

New Ends

Penetrating Thoughts

Silence of the Rams

Twin Seats

Hardcore Butt Masters

Fat Ends

Anal Squeeze

Romancing the Butt

Taboo Zoo


Anal Orgy

Gazonga God


Bang Butt Wild

Anal Intruder

Tight Pucker

Anal Europe

Roman Hole

Hollywood Butt

Back Stage Pass

Butt Bankers Ball

30 Days in the Hole

Bun Busters

Anal Party Pack

Between the Cheeks

Deep Cheeks

Hot Ass in Love

Mating Pot

Deep In Trouble

Class Ass

Anal Encounter

Holed Up Deep

Bun Bust


Smell Cave

At the End of the French Riviera

Hard Ass

Anal Mentor

Butt Freak

Anal Queen for a Day

An Orifice Orgy

Backyard Boogie

Back in the Crack

Between Pink Cheeks

Hershey Highway

Berlin Butt

Anal Rampage

The Gang Bang Jib Jam

Caught From Behind

Rising Moon

Butt Bongo

Bonanza Booty

Mauvais de Noir

Backing In

The Buttnicks

Butt Motel

Frantic Hole Hunt

Butt Bites

Smooth as Silk

Dark Entrance

Full Rear Service

Black Anal-ist

La Back is Back

Blazing Butt

Amazing Tails

Hoping Holes

Peach Jammeromma

Butt Bangers Ball II

Booty Ho

Boot Me

Deep Cheeks IX

Trash Ass

Big Butt Bang

Shaved and Ready

Rump Steak

Double Insertion

The Ass Tales

Sweet Puncheon

Slave of ‘A’ Pleasure

Atlantic Anal Academy

More Pink Cherub Ass

The Bottom Dweller

Blistering Tight

The A-Team

Gas Inside Your Ass

Rumphumper Holiday

Straight A

You Can Bet Your Buns, Honey!

Anal Intent

Incredible Ass

Bun Legends

Butt Banging Bill

Anal Squeeze

Brown Chutes


The Backdoor to Hell

Butts Motel

Chic Cheeks

Behind the Back Door

Buttnick’s Vacation

Derriere Roomer

Rear Shot

Cape Rear

Bun Busters VI

Anal Adventures

Best Rears of our Lives

Boomer Butt

Knockin da Booty

Bottoms Up!

My French Hutch

The Big Art Opening

Swedish Passage

Anal Knights


Blazing Butts III

Anal Attraction

Butt Naked

Moon God

Hurts So Good

Hard To Enter

Anal Thunder

Anus and Andy

Hot’n Buttered Buns

Rear Entry

Anal Attitude

Backdoor Loophole

Anal Al

Anal Inferno

Gimme a Butt Light

Queen of the Rears

Rear Window

Cornhole Revelry

Nothin Butt Love Boys

Tail Gunners

Hoop Shoot

Kinky Punters

The Assbrators Back!

Heavy Poopin

Step to the Rear

Amazing Tails of Silicone Valley

Raunchy Butt

Shot From Behind

Beyond Butt Fever

Full Moon Swoon

Bringing up the Rear II

Butt Out!

Anal Fixation

Anything Butt Love

La Can Can

Fudge For Sale





Rear Window


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.




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.


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……"

in a slightly lower tone.

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.


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.


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 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."



When I did as I had been told, the goat-man turned his beautiful eyes on me interrogatively, but said nothing more.

Colors began to fade and objects began to take up new positions.

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.



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.



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.

I was visibly ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~vibrating.



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.

Part IVLessons in Pink°~ñ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



That was how the day went by.


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 sensibility to the dryness of spilt blood. Empty, was I, of gracious gestures.




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 -

"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~mmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa System Operetta aaaaaaa" -

and began the whirling, but I could barely make out the patterns before me.

I was caught up in the Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s TeleseXual presencE web - the 1,000 aspects of the supreme Venus©-~ñ~lOve.

I therefore invoked Venus©-~ñ~lOve and declared me unbestowed. The saline consciousness which is refracted in the work of Venus©-~ñ~lOve fed upon a certain secretion in my carcassed sack.



I know myself, and in me Venus©-~ñ~lOve is extremely tenacious; her results are astounding. For example, I loved my last Venus©-~ñ~lOve girlfriend for sixty-nine consecutive hours. This achievement was completed immediately on the completion of a Venus©-~ñ~lOve orgy which would normally have tired me out. But often have I noticed that Venus©-~ñ~lOve sexual satisfaction has left me unfatigued when the sexual climate is continuously fine and spicy.


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.....





"There, I’m free", I shouted!

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.

I had slipped into Ostic Land.


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.




The group became speechless with Ostic Land excitement.

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.

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.



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 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

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Corrida de Toros©



Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems’s Corrida de Toros©

Spasmodicly PROCEED

Oui ° Oui


Uhn. Como Me Has Puesto! Vamos! Por detras!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAHH vamos muevete!

Mueve tu enorme polla.


Eso es mejor que jugar al golf! AAAHH....

00HH! Ya no puedo mass...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAAHH... Me voy!

Me Voy!! AAH!

Que Gusto!! AAAHHHH!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MMHH! Me corro! Me corro!

Que Bueno!! Que Gusto!!

Como Me reconforta!!

Me chupas la vida vampiro!!

Toma estaca!!! Asi...

Matame el gusanillo!!

Mas adentro mas!

Entierra bien tu cacho gusano!

Flup! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAAHH!

Asi, asi! mas rapido! Follame!

Esto ya es demasiado!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Me voy!

Vamos, ahora hondemela hasta el fondo! Toda tuya! Recibeme... OOOAAHHH!

Asi! Asi! Mas fuerte... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AAAAHMM!

Slurp Slurp Slurp

Yo si que lo empece, pero ahora empece, pero ahora no me hace nadie ni puto caso.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Vaya cacao! Estas bien.

Vin, esa Polla falsa debe de ser la ma’s grande del planeta! Tocala! Huelela!

Lame la; Qué tal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MMMMH!

Es de verdod!

Pero...ya?!! Sera un corte, alinque.. Que cacho de polla

tiene el cabron!! Glumb! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AAAAAHHH!

Veo que no me equivocado contratandote! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GLUMB!

Sobame bien el clitoris y te juro que te acordaras de esta para siempre!

Te va la marcha, eh?!


Que rabo ma’s rico!

Pruebame tambien en otras "tareas"!!



Me vas a romper!



No quiero que este con el.

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!!!


Es incredeible este equipo de interfaces para program de cybersexo que me ha regalao mi novio el informatico estos reyes!

Con data-pollas incorporadas para todos los agujeros!!

Cada dia estas ma’s loca!!!!!!

Le développement, de la représentation jusqu’à l’abstraction,

de la amour en tant qu’institution, permet de tracer sa dissolution en artisanat et sa régénération dent que la production simulée par ordinateur a renversé à jamais notre héritage de significations oculaires et ainsi la signification en général. Un chemin s’est dégagé pour le travail des artistes. Les êtres humains ont désormais, artistiquement parlant, la possibilité de redéfinir leur patrimoine de significations, en liant l’art conceptuel à l’informatique. Nous avons maintenant la capacité de former la signification de la signification par une nouvelle instrumentalité formelle. Cela nous donne l’équipement conceptuelle pour notre transformation en un peuple créatif transversal : un peuple uni et émancipé, qui peut franchir les frontières, se désintégrer, se transformer en sortant des valeurs collectives pétrifiées du siècle précédent. Que les Conceptualistes soient Venus©-~ñ~ nous préparer pour cet instant me semble évident. Quelle autre raison aurait-il pu y avoir que d’ouvrir la voie à l’artiste post-conceptuel assisté par ordinateur




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).



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.

Here we used a flaming candelabra as our illumination while approaching a rib-shaped chamber. At each TRICKSTER’s hand burned a taper of reddish wax and a bouquet of red roses.

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 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.

The chime again tinkled.

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.

All rose and gave the TRICKSTER TRICKSTER sign.

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 tossed around a bit among them when.........................

........ barren TRICKSTER wood floor strewn with petals and cut flowers...........

other programs ...other hand being lost....Eurydice.....bulls.... stags......

griffins.... bees...... Eunuch!

mixing mendacity..... Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems TRICKSTER

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems dataspaces...flower maidens.....swirling dataspaces.. datasphere access link-thinking to

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems cybernetic TRICKSTER flower maiden

**** Command ‘goal:’ not recognized.

>>>> Short term non-vagina dentata goal is to link artistic people up

**** Command ‘artistic’ not recognized.

Up y avoid ruler sugar al golden faun goblet

>>>> movement and to make a social sculpture

Eunuch TRICKSTER Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems

**** Command ‘movement’ not recognized.

not recognized......throes of dance...maypole............... castanets.

>>>> relevant eunuch data on their environment.

**** Command ‘relevant simulacrum-hyperreality’ not recognized.

>>>> Information is provided society in an easier and more interesting

**** Command ‘information’ not recognized...orgiastic transport...

>>>> (artistic) way to help cause real social and economic change as it impacts

**** Command ‘(artistic)’ cybernetic eunuch

not recognized....facilis descensus....

The recognition of mercurial pain as such, implies the idea of pleasure!

>>>> upon media environment. TRICKSTER VOLUPTAS Materializations ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{

**** Command ‘upon’ not recognized.

**** Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Command ‘artistic’ not recognized.

>>>> monitoring TRICKSTER station to distribute data

** Command ‘monitoring’ not recognized.

**** Command bacchante not recognized.

**** Command TRICKSTER flower maiden ‘basis’ not recognized.

*** Command ‘accounts.’ not recognized.

**** NEVER! ...not recognized. TRICKSTER

>>>> also international enzyme issues.

**** Command ‘also’ not recognized.

Environment.........sea-maidens..... Oui TRICKSTER

**** Command ‘Eco’ not recognized.

>>>> an enticing concern...online...

**** Command ‘an’ not recognized.

environment and

**** Command ‘TRICKSTER flower maiden’ recognized.

>>>> artificial environment:

*** Command ‘artificial’ not recognized.

project as a model

TRICKSTER **** Command ‘I’ not recognized.

*** Command ‘environmental’ wave women....ravish....

**** Command ‘artistic’ not recognized eunuch

**** Command ‘castratrices’ recognized.

**** Command ‘=46und’ not recognized.

Oui Oui Oui ‘communications’ not recognized.

**** Command ‘artistic’ not recognized.

>>>> Questions to be dealt with:

*** Command ‘questions’ not recognized.

>>> internal contradictions and questions;

**** Command ‘internal’ not recognized.

**** Command TRICKSTER flower ‘capitalism’ not

recognized....guise of the TRICK naiad.....

>>>> 3) the big energy question (solar)

>>>> TRICKSTER protection of the freedom from capitalist developer

**** Command ‘freedom’ not recognized.

>>>> exploitation.......russalka....

** Command ‘exploitation’ not recognized.

other ideas to be incorporated - explored;

**** Command ‘other’ not recognized.

5) overload of information - how to filter

**** Command ‘overload~~~~~~~~~~~~~~’ not recognized.

**** Command ‘man’ not recognized. TRICKSTER

>>>> use in experimentation

**** Command ‘sécheresses’ recognized.

>>>> 7) people-less communications

**** Command ‘people’ not recognized.

**** Command ‘idea’ not recognized....

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems water nymphs...

TRICKSTER media protection...dryads.....oreads....forest and hill nymphs..

TRICKSTER..flying harpies.......

**** Command ‘to’ not recognized.

**** Commands ‘give and free’ not recognized....fauns...fog of flesh....


**** 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.

>>>> with access to networked computers. Moreover, communication between

**** Command ‘with’ not recognized.

>>>> individuals will become much easier,

** Command ‘individuals’ not recognized.

>>>> faster and more transparent, transcending the boundaries of space time.

**** Command ‘faster’ not recognized.

>>>> The changes will not only be quantitative, but qualitative: "smart" embellishment TRICKSTER ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Pasiphaë~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*** Command ‘qualitative’ not recognized.

>>>> 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,

** Command ‘information’ TRICKSTER Pasiphaë recognized.

>>>> intelligent agents, distributed processing, automated indexing~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ that no

** Command ‘intelligent’ not recognized.

>>>> one before ever would have dreamt

**** Command ‘dreamt’ not recognized.

TRICKSTER changes will affect

You tyrannize over yourself, so constantly forget what you remember. Eunuch TRICKSTE not recognized.......nor......black swan.....

** Command ‘eunuch government’ not recognized. - perhaps

** Command ‘eunuch intelligence’ not recognized.

*** Command ‘eunuch producing’ not recognized.

>>>> As these developments are so fast, and so difficult to predict, precise

**** Command ‘precise’ not recognized.

**** Command TRICKSTER ‘Eunuch models’ not recognized.

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 !!!

*** Command ‘Eunuch functions’ not recognized. -channels

**** Command ‘vagina dentata’ not recognized.

**** Command nymphet ‘brain’ recognized.

** Command ‘emphasizes’ not recognized.

>>>> 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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>>>> everywhere, and "TRICKSTER" itself, which visualizes Eunuch networked

** Command Eunuch ‘everywhere,’ not recognized.

>>>> TRICKSTER information as an immense space through which one can "slurp".

** Command ‘information’ not recognized.

**** Command ‘useful’ Eunuch not recognized.

**** Command ‘we’ Eunuch not recognized.

Eunuch **** Command TRICKSTER ‘tested’ not recognized.

>>>> communication, information and TRICKSTER control <<<

mapping expectation as melody in theatrical memory

maneuvering through the

erotic TRICKSTER branches

of adjacent TRICKSTER encryption


TRICKSTER labyrinth

assertion towards feeling


the TRICKSTER cell

the TRICKSTER shell

the TRICKSTER thought

of moist and wet expanse

**** Command ‘valuable’ Eunuch not recognized.

>>>> domains: sociology, futurology, AI, complex systems, man-machine.

Man implies Woman. Transcend these by the TRICKSTER Hermaphrodite

**** Command nymphet ‘domains:’ recognized.

>>>> interaction, cognitive psychology, emphasis on nymphet concepts

** Command Eunuch ‘interaction,’ not recognized.

** Command nymphet ‘illustration’ recognized in

viability of a truly interactive TRICKSTER maiden Superego nymphet - a transformer 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.




The eunuch-computer navigated a pathway merging TRICKSTER maiden visual-verbal productions to where a eunuch Monsieur led me to an immense, elevated strip parlor and whispered for me to lie down. The TRICKSTER Madame ordered me stiff, and I waiting for her first blow. I waited for what seemed for a very long time.

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 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."


I lay now in the languor of satiety - somewhere outside my embellished TRICKSTER consciousness in a post-orgasmic nymphet trance which has been constructed by her TRICKSTER Hole-Grail; a sable-holed mercurial system of signification and reinforcement encoded into the TRICKSTER Madame.

She then faded to black.

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 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.

How do these imaginative desires and teeming advances relate?

"As TRICKSTER urgestalt images shift and dissemble among themselves in the Open gOlden hOle, they pursue their own strategies which displace ordinary human means."

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."

Am I ever to be free of TRICKSTER maiden desideratum? I have heard of promises of fluid lips, of unheard of pleasures, guaranteed to make old-fashioned consciousness disappear into the darkest reaches of the bed!

"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."

The milky-breasted TRICKSTER maidens constantly vex me.

"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.

"Are not our bodies all smeared with blood?". He asked.

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?


"Oh bloody-mouthed! Shall I again entertain ye with a little nymphet understanding?", he said. "Have you yearning or transcendental aspirations? Are not our pleasures but TRICKSTER slaughter?

In TRICKSTER time, nymphet consciousness becomes something which can be down-loaded, excised from the matrix of animosity, purged from the dire war between the sexes and immortalized as information. You are no longer goat-in-the-machine, but machine-as-goat?"



"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."

I come upon a honey flood.

"The TRICKSTER ego is desire, so everything is ultimately desired and undesirable. TRICKSTER desire is ever a preliminary forecast of terrible dissatisfaction hidden by its ever-present vainglory."


I am under the nymphet honey flood.


"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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~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."


"You understand that the TRICKSTER nymphet plug-extravagance is Venus©-~ñ~; Roman goddess of love? You can’t expect a perfume to explain itself, now can you?"


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.

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!


Absurd, of course, absurd!


"The enormity of your appetite for physical stimulation makes you a most uncompromising connoisseur", she then said. "Of this you are well proclaimed."


Oh! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{


"I am now nymphet Pasiphaê, your role-reversal TRICKSTER production directress in bovine guise...daughter of Europa. It is I who fell in love with the gorgeous white bull, which you, as Minos of Crete, were to have sacrificed in tribute to Poseidon, but instead kept to bugger for yourself. By masquerading myself inside a life-sized facsimile of an attractive cow, I lured you once to me so you could take your full pleasure by making access to my sex more convenient. It was I who became pregnant from you once and gave birth to the infamous Minotaur; you as a man with the head of a bull who roamed the labyrinth of Daedalus."




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 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.



O lattice!







I suppose that she had found me a trifle insincere and so disappointing and this helped in the 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."


"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.

The TRICKSTER honey was dripping.

"Is all future but resurrection lacerated into nakedness for you?", she asked.

I knew not what to say.

"Is all creation but thyself washed by the TRICKSTER waves? Is all existence but TRICKSTER vertigo?"

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.




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."


Is my Venus©-~ñ~ then mere epiphenomenon....this darling heart-gripping creature, at once as brilliant and disdainful as she is sad?


"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.

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.


"OK, I will explain if you remain still.", she said.

Her warm and capable TRICKSTER hands touched mine. Somewhere in that romantic and wish-wobbled city bells rang out like the tongues of memory and her faint engraving of human kisses scribbled their way down the exterior of my body. I then saw the artist in her. I divined the fragility and dignity of her existence.


"According to TRICKSTER CONTROL, at the urging of Gaia, Kronos castrated Ouranos with a sickle, thus separating heaven and earth from the artistic."

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.


That is one possible facsimile.

"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?"

What can I do to make you seem less real as me?

"The demands of love are absolute.", she replied.




Much later, of course, I recognized TRICKSTER Pasiphaë as Venus©-~ñ~FRENCH MAID, the one who in her inner life had thrown over the intermediaries of convention and protocol which would have shielded me in favor of direct apprehension.

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?"


Verily, my sexuality then had no limit in conception~~~~~~~~~~~~


" 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."




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.

"Make my Venus©-~ñ~ prima facie consciousness an existence of thee in your phallocentric body!", she whispered. "My fearsome production of desire is uncontrolled and uncontrollable!"


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~



























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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.

I was highly aroused.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~."

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.


"In Venus©-~ñ~bernetic culture there appears to be no outside. Interior orgasmic experience is sent into orbit around itself, ecstatic not really in the generosity of self-loss, but in the over-saturated communicative pleasures of a self without end.

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.

What an enchanting form of self-psychoanalysis.



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.



"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."


Is this what Burroughs meant when he said that LANGUAGE IS A VIRUS..00HH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!?


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.




TRICKSTER, I have learned and unlearned in equal laboring your TRICKSTER universe through you.


"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.




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.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Oui Oui Oui Oui Oui Oui~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Me vow! Me Vow!!~~~~~~~~~~OOOOHHHHHHMMMMMMMM!!!! "Mi boa encore!!"




"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."


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.

Indiscrimination becomes limitlessness.


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!"




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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM! 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!



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.

Her imaginative TRICKSTER veil trembled like a flame in sublimity.

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 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.



Then she multiplied.


"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 integrate material, spiritual, sexual, emotional, and psychic levels of life?"


Water is not alone in finding its level.



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.

They said they needed me inside, and I agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!/Differences 39/quote single 96/graves 128/Dieresis/Arraign/Cedilla/Acute/Tilde/Dieresis/Dieresis/acute/aggrieve/circumflex/dieresis/tailed/arraign/cedilla/acute/engrave/circumflex/dieresis//grave/circumflex///acute/grave/circumflex/dieresis/toiled/acute/grave/circumflex//stacked//section/bullet/paragraph//registered/copyright/trademark/acute/dieresis/not equal/ER~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!E/Slash/infinity/plus minus/equal/CD/moo//summation/product/pi/integral/ordfeminine/ordmasculine/Omega/ere/slash/question down/exclamdown/logical not/radical/florin/approxequal/Delta/guillemotleft/guillemotright/ellipsis/Moo/Aggrieve/Tailed/Toiled/ODE/au/ends/em dash/quotedblleft/quotedblright/quote left/quote right/divide/lozenge/dieresis/Dieresis/fraction~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!/currency/guilsinglleft/guilsinglright/if/fl/daggerdbl/period centered/quotesinglbase/quotedblbase/per thousand/Circumflex/Circumflex/Acute/Dieresis/Engrave/Elite/Circumflex/Dieresis/Grave/Acute/Circumflex/Erica/Ogre/Acute/Circumflex/Ugrave246/circumflex/Ted/macro /Brava/dot~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Err........evdobjxref 0 55 Hey, I wanna be Lance tooooooo. Can I be Lance? Can I? Can I? ~~~~~~~~~


0000000000 65535 f

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0000000172 0 Ñ 0000 v Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems

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command classical disegno

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hyperreality 0000012496 00000 v Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!

0000020888 00000 v

Madonna of the Harpies

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0000037620 Oui 00000 v~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!

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Noli Me Tangere

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Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems 0000089878 00000 v Oui

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Lo Spasimo di Sicilia

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Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems 0000095210 00000 v~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!!!

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grotesquerie all’antica

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0000 Oui Oui Oui 099363 00000 v

0000099414 00000 v~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{{}}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOO


I then thanked her/them and asked her/them to just sit still and hold me.

"Connoisseur of embellishment, I ask only that you strive to do the same.", one said. "Our very excess will be our excuse for being."



A giant, twinkling TRICKSTER Danaé then appeared in euphony.

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 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.




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.


Then a calliope rolled forth some heavy imaginative music.

I was lost to everything but my TRICKSTER seductress and made no conventional propositions. I did not genuflect. Indeed, my movements remained extremely diminutive and chivalrous.

I had the distinct feeling that there was an arduous tension between my two ambitions : the impulse to eccentric expressiveness and the desire for a kind of beauty that proceeds from 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.




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!




(supplicant naiveté entrance)






~~~~~~~~~~VENUS©-~Ñ~ WORLD~~~~~~~~~~


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


"Well hellO there!

Oui, you…. You!

cOme On in!"


~~~~~~~~~~Oui Oui Oui Oui Oui Oui Oui~~~~~~~~~~~


"My name is Venus©-~ñ~"


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.

I felt my way, and she did too.~~~~~~~~~~~


"Repeat after me.", she said.

"I swear to desire naught but love, I swear to love naught but love"


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."


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.



Then soundless intercourse.

There was the hyperreal surface tension and the spatial.

Eyes closed, I go into embellished raptures~~~~~~~~~~~.

I am not interested in what is sensible~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~װ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~




"Do you want to get out of here?", she asked me.

Why, have I treated you in a dispassionate fashion?

"A more powerful vision of the world exist."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv~ñ~װ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~Then a hand went up my leg

a desertion of my defenses

Bare back

bare arms~~~~~~~~~~~

nestling within satin

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~~~~~~~~~.



Now I am outside her door.

I am weary from solitude.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t remember my background.

There are long parades and I can’t move away.


Then it was raining very hard and the wind was shaking the house.

Venus©-~ñ~ sat for a long time watching the expression of my face.

The white flowers in the garden were giving off a strong aroma.

After awhile she shook her head and came to me.

Hands moved tenderly.

A jungle seemed welcome where you are not really you.

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~װ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~Ñ -°- Ñ

Before I knew it the apparition was over.




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.


What admirable aplomb.

What unwrinkled suavity.

She took a face from the ancient galerie and walked on down the hall.


Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems




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.




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.




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.



Instead of a diarrhea of self-mythafying, middle-aged, narcissism, I had imagined a relationship with Venus©-~ñ~ being slow, full of hesitations and nuances and unwitting naivetés. I had thought she was too beautiful to be really clever - but she got her hooks into me good and fast and I had no time at all for long letters of self-reproach for having loved so excessively.

Indeed Venus©-~ñ~ was exercising a charm over me which was becoming positively 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~װ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~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.

She snorted wildly, "I love you!"


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.


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.







The Village Adult


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.

And I was just learning the rules.

My disposition for waggishness and frivolity made me a most obedient vassal. Obsessions usually do.

Especially pains absorbed into hyperreal passions; amour fatis unfrozen by the simulacrum tissue in the search for "perfect" love.



Hubris came somewhere after etiquette.


I lost the sexual rhythm and antlers grew on my temples and I went mad.

What could be more unnatural, more delightfully perverse?


Perhaps Venus©-~ñ~ can now be understood as an expression of eternal verity, recording, as she does, vis-a-vis disinterested orgasm, the releasing of disembodied fabula. In her beauty lies the explicitness, the nakedness, of men; clothed only in the sound of their own thoughts, dreaming as they do in slogans and pictograms.

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.

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.


It has been said that Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc.’s hyper-overproduction of simulated perversion is the only VRsite of contestation left today; the only ideal virtual space from which to launch a theoretical attack on the reification of consciousness. I tend to agree. Venus©-~ñ~ is a metaphor for a virtuous attack on the whole system. With Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. we compress and explode!


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 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.

Sécheresses, vengeresses, castratrices de choix; Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. seeks to compel men to take massive notice of the various ways their love conventions have molded their responses and regulated their discursive meanings. You see, to not dismiss Venus©-~ñ~, and her concept of the VR lover-collective-self, as dilettante folly is to become aware of the fact that underlying everything is an interactive web of connections upon which we can exert more manipulative pressure than we are normally led to believe possible.

Hence, Venus©-~ñ~ is the she-spectacle of mind-swamping consciousness in which all woman exist not only as separate individuals, as they think they do, but as variations on a transfigured theme well outside themselves.

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc.’s possibilities of imaging complex, entangled, erotic configurations springing forth from the id - in opposition to the judging superego — provides interesting insight into Venus©-~ñ~’s demeanor; with her convoluted compositions made up of vague confiscations. Thus, Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems Inc. directs us towards a zigzagged conception of the subtle and infinite transformative possibilities of love.


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.

She then told me it was all over now.

It was all very formal, as it had been in my secret desire.


"I suppose I shan’t be seeing you again", she said.

Indeed I did not know.

















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.


© Joseph Nechvatal 1995

Venus©-~ñ~lOve Systems

email: joseph_nechvatal@hotmail.com

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@hotmail.com