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Monday, February 19, 2018

The sexual profundities of Robot disfigurement

The sexual profundities of Robot Disfigurement

A cement floor is discarded with electronic parts resembling varied appendages most likely associated with Models 2109 and 3192. Wires slashed and metal metacarpals and phalanges scatter the landscape while the occasional fly will land on an LED button. These were most likely functional bots that could efficiently execute tasks and build things that us humans do not have the fleshy software for.

Some of the parts seemed gleaming gooey in nature as if Vaseline was used to rub the joints so that they would move with ease. Some still had the patchy pseudo silicon flesh attached to the appendages. Fake mouths, heels, legs and elbows lined the dirty floor while the humidity sweltered with great prose and purpose.

These planned obsolescence models were once serviceable to humans of different varieties. They got used up, discarded and thrown aside to make use for the next batch of serviceable droids. The first few models that were developed had many errors that including random short circuiting as well as perforated disfigurement brought about by thoracic thrusting and aggressive grabbing.

Much to the chagrin of the prosperous creators, the outlandish provocation that ensued from the unleashing of artificial orifices for personal and private use, lead to new age of degeneracy and unrequited sexual deviancy. Like a savory and insatiable combination of salt, butter and sugar, the first release of pulsating humanoid like machines aimed to hit at every pleasure center and subconscious cravings to all who wanted it. The supply was having a hard time keeping up with the demand. People didn’t know how to responsibly interact or even reasonably know how to contend with such a new pleasure device that could conjure up new Debaucheries ideas and awaken dormant imaginations.

Men particularly took a psychological toll on their own well being by consuming and then engaging with these new pleasure automatons. Many started to check out of relationships and withdraw within the confines of their own neglected messy rooms and luxurious sanctuaries. The conveniences and instant access to these new sexual beings allowed for the constant release of unbridled passions and devious tendencies to act out perturbed and often aggressive tendencies. There was no need for the obligatory and altruistically reciprocal mechanisms that us humans operate under on a regular social basis. All was laid out to explore with no inherent consequences in clear sight.

The perverse worm of sexuality had wriggled its way across the fabric of daily modern living. Modernity is certainly built on measurement and this new beast had started to writher the measurement mechanism that was so prevalent in perpetuating the moistly desired modern world. From modern to a perverted version of a fantastical sensuality.

A pulsating irritation glowed brightly and symbolic sense of desire had been constantly agitated as the pleasure/ pain matrix paradigm was made even more polarized and destructive. Towers of passion were starting crumble as the ubiquitous access to sensual desire and gratification permeated the social consciousness. Like building up to heaven, the foundations of society became more and more unstable and the hellish consequences from trying to achieve exhausted states of bliss were pretty clear in the rear view mirror. As above and so below the belt, the phallic exuberance of animalistic procreation drives came to take over any sense of a free will among men and women alike.

The shadows of broken and slothful men were coming out of the woodwork and slowly eating the wood of ones self as if it was an infantry of hungry termites. Technological Infantilization. Like rats going for the next hit of cocaine or sugar for that matter. Like pornography, men’s serotonin receptors and neural pathways were slowly eroding from the constant action of achieving all types of glorified and gooey orgasms. Jobs suffered. Responsibilities dwindled and the overarching purpose or obligations that drove the men in the past were replaced with this new summoned dragon of chaotic ecstasy.

What better way to get a base of sex craved males, then to continually improve upon these new artificial sexual beings with new and improved upgrades and enhanced humanistic flesh like orifices. Hell was around the corner and piling a new mountain of creamy encrusted post coitus rags.

Masculinity was slowly crumbling like a day old muffin and modern males were being morphed into slaves of their own sick and twisted desires. The transformation of these men started to take an abusive economic toll. The richer men that could immediately afford each new and fledgling upgrade, were more apt to devote all their funds and time to the pursuit to fill that hollow void within themselves. Crackheads seemed to be more lucid and productive then these new technocratic opportunistic deviants and degenerates.

To degenerate and to generate into a new form. Muscle turned to pudgy subcutaneous dough that reeked of body odor and ecstatic fluid release. The blurred line between silicon like mock flesh and actual skin texture had become much more blurry and mysterious. A mysticism arose across all willing to openly come to terms with what had been awakened from the insides of these new sensually satiated men. They however were more susceptible to falling for new marketing tactics and social manipulations when dangled the carrot of energy release. The serpent became bigger within the identities of these new obedient and vulnerable males.

This transmogrification and devolution of these men lead to a great economic distress. The new dark awakening of the shadowy libido came to bring about suffering that was hard to imagine before hand. Great ecstatic peaks were accompanied by painfully lulling valleys filled with despair, regret and the constant cycle of depleting serotonin and dopamine. A classic High then Crash then High then Harder Crash scenario. The low cadences of depression lead to a increase of pharmaceutical anti-depressants. It was hard to match the supply with the demand and the cost of the drugs started to sky rocket almost over night.

Newer and newer models were coming out into the marketplace like sugar ridden high glycemic hot cakes. At an exponential rate, men and some women for that matter were exhausting each new technologically advanced humanoid sexual being. Upgrades were almost made at a dime with angry reviews littering the internet stores. The pressure of the market seemed to get heavier and heavier like a water soaked socks filled with rocks. Competing corporations were at each other’s throats with a sharp and agitated weasel thing. The opening of this new market of fleshy gratification objects, had opened up a new door of consumerist driven inequality and ill equipped manufacturing practices. Even the men that had unfortunately traded their jobs and livelihoods for the new obtusely hedonistic pursuit of orgasm and pleasure, were lining up to the factories that brought their pithy demise in the first place. They had to find a means to support their pain and pleasure ridden sense of meaningful existence.

Petulant kids in a prosperous playground of degraded potential. Pining for guidance and pleading for a new self serving and pleasing existence.

It soon became common that bursts of violent rage and deviant criminal behavior were a norm. The skills of socialization had fallen to the wayside. These new addicted males cowered and froze when approaching members of the opposite sex and men of great contention and competency. The isolation from the outside world and depletion of various vitamins had lead to pale like creatures with slouched backs, baggy eyes and a crude sense of how to display themselves in public. Was there any responsibility to be had for this vile change in stabile and competent men?

Soon the inevitability of the breaking of the bots lead to more devious and creative workarounds and modifications for pleasure. A fully bodied model no longed needed to service to its full intention. A limb or a particular orifice would do and be enough for the release and gratification of a sweaty participant. A grand disfigurement leading to a new way to get one’s jolly’s off in a jiff. The new manipulated slightly used models were bought and sold and traded. A brand new underground market of pleasure had arisen from the shadowy depths of post-coital despair. Limbs lambasted and fleshly parts lined themselves across the feeds of social media and poorly put together websites mainly aimed at selling a dry used up orifice as if it was new supple sensual center for satisfaction. As the market provides a new semi-affordable means of achieving ecstatic states and moods, the fabric of society had slowly started to restore itself, Men were releasing the bottom they had hit and the end of their rather lengthy binge of release. The lack of energy and tireless chaffing forced many to look within and crawl towards the relationships they once had. Like a baby taking his first steps, there were plenty of falls and stumbles before some could even start to think about reintegrating into the general population.

Large marketable retreats for recovery came into being as if it was some type of emergency effort to rid the earth of a disease and quarantine all that had been affected. The loose tentacles that had wrapped around people’s desires were slowly un-suctioned their cups from the power life giving genital drives. Was the the revolution of technological sexual debauchery coming to a halt? A reintegration was set to blossom within the fabric of this post-ejaculate soaked cloth of society. The ground had been laid for new seeds to arise from the gooey substance of disaster and  exhausted shame. Women began to see more attention. A compassion arising for the need for companionship with comforting femininity and the wellspring of domesticated socialization. A type of order was being restored that would mend the tension of the sexes and catapult a refreshed sense of relationships in an age of convenience and instant repudiation.

The melding of masculine and feminine forces were slowly seeping together to a new technocratic economy. The demand for sex bots had dwindled and many companies started to sell their businesses or look into new and more portable devices for easy consumption. It became hard to resell the parts of the different models and many were buying the used and discarded membranes and limbs in order to repair or build new experimental devices. This underground bartering and trade led to a new subculture of transforming the pieces of pieces into new pieces. Fake silicon limbs and orifices were used to create wacky oscillators and synths that would tickle the new post-apocalyptic technologically inclined audiophiles. Some of the discarded sex bot parts got shuttled off into dumps and e-waste landfills. It was a sad sight to see the half faced figurines all torn up, mangled and disregarded only to allow birds and reptiles to take homes in various crusty orifices and wiry lacerations.

A new scavenger type of class had some into being by the post sex-bot era. The occasional vagrant would frequent different alley ways to experience momentary flesh like pleasure for a small fee of cash, trade or the willingness to offer some dirty deed in return. The trickle down of instant gratification had offered and unseen opportunity and a safer alternative to possibly contracting a sexual disease or a small cuts from broken bits of wire and bent metal. It was a tragedy and comedy all wrapped into a heartwarming tale of accessible backdoor pleasure of the most hedonistic and subjective value of interest.

One could have seen this weighted scenario as a type of perverted progress. A dip into the abyss that led to a light to shine through upon the inherent goodness and reciprocal altruism of human nature. Many men and women were not as fortunate however. Many hard lessons and financial drownings were created from such a dip into the pleasure pain matrix that consumes everyone that lives in such a conspicuously consumption based economy. Packing to delight the eye and pull one into making such impulsive decisions that echo out to create and perpetuate the consuming behavior. Little did they see that such silicon based technological sensual delight could offer so much pain and misery in return. From that suffering and pseudo post-coital blues, arose a new path of the unknown that still had deep roots with the past and traditional values that brought them to consume and distort their own perceptions in the first place. The conditioning helped condition the mediocre conditions that lead to the new extreme concoction of conditions that would eventually decode and degrade the origins and roots of the original conditioning. The snake had been tamed and drained, but for how long?


Saturday, February 17, 2018

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Monday, February 12, 2018

Thursday, February 8, 2018

FF Gothic

The Anti Aha! Moment

The Anti Aha! Moment

The anti Aha! moment

It seems like everyone is looking for the right time. The right spark of inspiration or a happening revelations that jettisons them in the right direction towards progressing to a goal or riding an idea out fully. Is the right time ever here? It seems like the right time fully impregnated with wonder and ecstasy comes in times where we certainly don’t expect it.

Waiting. Expecting. Spectating. Anticipating. All these stem from the desire to achieve and escape from what is.

Ambition can be a special type of poison. To seek the reward, to be motivated and inspired to do the right thing. The right thing at the right time. We want to be special and gifted. Showered with treasures from the universe. The human orientation to be accepted as one of the Tribe.

So we work. We get out hands dirty with obligations and labors of love. We stumble like we should. Happening upon unexpected fruits of our own self interests and chore like habits. We creatures of habit get caught up in the acts of what we are doing while simultaneously caught in a hypnotic psychosis held within the stage of our own worrisome heads. Worrying about the past misgivings and future chores we must complete. A rush of anxiety sweeps our concentration and pulls us from the sanctimonious actions of cleaning our rooms and doing the dishes. How fantastically tragic for thoughts to be such successful interrupters of daily tasks. How amazingly unconscious of us to get caught up in such ravenous thought tornados and cyclical patterns of negative self talk.

Onward. Inward. Upward.
The channeling of energy that is based on a motive. A means to an end. Stemming from the desire for something new. All from thought. Workings of the mind.

We may syphon through feeds of motivational quotes and memes to get us going. Maybe that one specific image of the fit male climbing that rock will trigger a momentous burst of what we call motivation and catapult us in the right direction. That’s the thing. Motivation is momentary. It is not a sustainable fuel source by any means. Motivation is a lot like hunger and hunger is a very motivational type of mood. When we are hungry, we aim towards food to satiate us. Then what? Then we get full. A few hours we may develop an appetite or get hungry again. Do you see this repetitive pattern? When we rely solely on motivation as a means to achieve something or get an astounding idea, we miss the mark and set us up for uncertainty and bigger unmotivated dips in the future.

“ Running in Circles, only to find out that we reached a new level of running in circles.”

It comes down to energy and how we use it.

What happens when we stop searching for that elusive Aha! Moment?

What happens when we can just do for the sake of doing. Small tasks and small steps. If we are present with every small step no matter how arduous of tedious, we can allow for our attention to direct us to the unknown and undiscovered. Think about this and then don’t think about this. It’s amazing how so many ideas pop in our mind sacs when we are doing other things, especially more physically demanding things. It’s the act of being present without forcing or trying to over-conceptualize or even glamorize the goals we are aiming towards. When we allow the space and surrender our attention to what is, a new space of potential opens up before our eyes. Not contrived and not forced. Being in the “moment” and the flow with doing produces spontaneity that allows for creativity to flourish and flow into our awareness.

We may have tons of great ideas throughout the day. We get Idea drunk and may get very excited, but realize a couple days later that it was only a rather feeble and week concept. But that first high of that idea is what gets you going! When we stop searching for the Mega Idea(s), we can carry one with little dramatic ups and downs like a roller-coaster of conceptual catastrophe. We know when we have a great idea. We can feel it. We feel integrated, reinvigorated and refreshed. But what about the present moment that you are always occupying whether you acknowledge it or not? What about this space in between the thoughts? The quietness and stillness of the mind that permeates through your being.

How many times have you had a great idea while doing something physical? In the body. In the flow.

In the shower?
On a treadmill?
Out for a walk?
Doing Dishes?
In the garden?

You see the pattern here. How funny it is to get so many spontaneous and unexpected ideas when we aren’t trying too hard to LOOK for them.

Looking and Listening. Uncommonly common acts. The Attention to Intention.

If your writing is not turning out the way you want it, keep writing.
If your painting is quite inspiring, keep painting or do something else and come back to it.

We focus so much on creating or providing things so valuable and so unique that we forget how important the spaces in between are. Like notes and rests. Words and pauses. The little journeys in between. The spaces in between allow the thinking to take its own course behind the scenes without us trying to interrupt so much. We all know that feeling of trying to think too hard. What happens in that moment? We get caught in a corner of confusion and feel as if all the glucose in our brains are being drained as if we are watering cans.

You can always just sit with in.
Let it FIND you.

So. Step Back. Take a Break. Refresh your eyes. Do some Push Ups. (Breathe) Finish putting up those dishes. Even if you don’t necessarily feel tired or stuck. Even if you think you can’t do anything good. Observe. Stop the seeking and the need to be inspired. Get what needs to get done around you. You will be pleasantly surprised to see how these unintended inspirations will find you when you least expect it.