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-------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A .
singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora
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OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 043--5/18/95
<-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 4  ||  ------->
(Cup OWis043, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

[[BEGIN043OW]]



[[01043CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 4 3 * * * May 18, 1995
"The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!"
by Frank Edward Nora

INSIDE THIS ISSUE!
A whole new era of massive, brilliant entertainment!
Check it out...
01 043 CV--Cover
   !!!!!!!! See it all man!
02 043 IW--Into E-mber Forge of Wander
   !!!!!!!! Some great stuff this time!
03 043 HR--Hemisinister Review
   !!!!!!!! Movies: Don Juan De Marco & Heavenly Creatures
04 043 HT--Halfevil Times
   !!!!!!!! Horoscope: Either you do or you don't but you didn't.
05 043 CZ--Classic Zope
   !!!!!!!! "Zope's Pine DNA Cafe"
06 043 TS--Trick Sojourn
   !!!!!!!! Spikes! E-mail! Fonosta! Bangles! Compilation Tapes!
07 043 LA--Lord of Obliviana
   !!!!!!!! Little Frankie's Princetonian Materialism
08 043 NH--Nihilistica
   !!!!!!!! Some Thoughts on Abortion
09 043 SU--Superior
   !!!!!!!! "Commanda Royal Blue, the cinnamon backlash affair."
10 043 IS--Into E-mber Severe Repair
  !!!!!!!! E-mail delivery of the coolest epic ever!
11 043 SR--Severe Repair
  !!!!!!!! "Truly Makes It"
CATCH THE OBLIVIANA TRAIN--COMIN' FAST!

INFORMATION: OsoaWeek043, May 18, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. You're Prey unless you get a Predator Deed for this release. Contact us for more on this concept.

Character count: 56662 / Line count: 1417

*OW*



[[02043IF]] Into E-mber Forge of Wander

[:[FOW004]:]

FORGE OF WANDER
E-mber 004, May 18, 1995

Look at this! Big number 4, here already! Whattaya know! Really fantastic... except--well, I kind of haven't E-mailed any of these out yet. Guess I'm too busy writing massive amounts of super-highly-charged entertainment every week. Ah, I'll get to it. I will. For now, just do that sit back and relax thing--you know--for the purpose of enjoyable perusing!

INFORMATION: Forge of Wander E-mber 004, May 18, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. You're Prey unless you get a Predator Deed for this release. Contact us for more on this concept. You can cancel or subscribe to this E-mber anytime, via E-mail.

*OW*



[[03043HR]] Hemisinister Review

***MOVIES***

DON JUAN DE MARCO

A very pleasant surprise. I went to a $2.00 theater with Kerri and Peter, not expecting much, but the movie turned out to be quite good. Even now, it's still sinking in. Excellent script--Lynchian mindf*ck elements--cool!

Johnny Depp, the star, is a fantastic actor, you gotta give him credit. Before "Ed Wood" I thought he was a no-talent prettyboy. But he's good.

Marlon Brando bring a lot of... Marlon Brandoness to the film. But it works, almost as if they had him in mind while writing it.

DJDM merges fantasy, reality and a sweet sexuality to form a very complex cinematic tapestry. There's a lot more going on here than meets the eye. You need a refined cinematic palate to really appreciate it. Am I elitist, or what?

Anyway, the story centers around this 21-year-old who thinks he's Don Juan, and his relationship with his psychiatrist (Marlon Brando, of course).

With brilliant pace changes, surprises, and a wonderful texture, this is one sleeper I highly recommend. Was it a sleeper? I think so. Heck, I'm not a Hollywood insider--not by a long shot!

So check it out. I imagine it'll be on video in a few months. Or just go to the guy on the corner in New York and get a copy some lowlife videotaped off the screen. There you go.


HEAVENLY CREATURES

This is one of those movies I heard a whole lotta good things about, only to be disappointed when I finally saw it.

The story takes place in mid-'50s New Zealand, where two teenage girls for a close relationship based around a fantasy milieu of their own design. The friendship turns to romance, much to their parents' chagrin. One girl is eventually to be sent to South Africa, so the other plots to kill her own mother. It's a true story, or so they say.

The problem is that the two main characters are really unlikable, and their final act of murder is a reprehensible act, and you wind up just hating them. It's not even clear WHY exactly they had to kill the mother.

The fantasy realm is dreary and hackneyed--understandable, since it's based on one girl's actual diary entries. The actress who plays Pauline does so wonderfully. The other one is alright too. Unfortunately, these performances don't make up for the film's lack of direction.

Anyone hoping for a good dose of lesbian eroticism should look elsewhere ("Sirens", for example). There two have no chemistry, and even their make-out scene is strangely devoid of any energy.

So, not a terrible film, but nothing special. This is one true story that was hindered by being TOO accurate. In this case, teenage angst doesn't pay off well--it's just boring.

*OW*



[[04340HT]] Halfevil Times

Last issue I presented one of the "Horrorscope" features written by Mike Massotto. This time, I present to you the other. Originally published in Anything But Monday Vol. 3, No. 1, October 1989. It's funny--in searching for the ancient digital file of this feature, I kept coming across this horrible alternate version by this woman friend of Jim Lord's. (see OsoaWeeks 007, 022, and 025 for references to Jim Lord). It was so bad--I only vaguely remember what happened. I guess Mike saved the day by writing a good one. Huh. Thank god I never published that bad version--I was questioning myself, searching frantically for a copy of ABM to make sure.

Anyway, it was the good version that was published. Here it is, for your reading pleasure...

(P.S.--I made up the name "Carbon Giovanni Prickwood III", to be Mike's fake horoscope name, mine being "Hologram T. Keelfat".)

***HALFEVIL TIMES HOROSCOPE***
by Mike Massotto

Here's Your Horrorscope!
by Carbon Giovanni Prickwood III

Aquarius (January 20-February 18) Pain is the best persuader when dealing with your grandparents this month. Leave that rancid pile of knockwurst right where it is. Now's a good time to get some blow-up insurance. The Death Star Pasta idea sucks.

Pisces (February 19-March 20 excluding Feb. 29 - see below) Travel to an inane tropical garden via transit gorilla. Don't charge admission to the unearthing of that ancient Indian civilization under your garage. Pummel a passing Peruvian peddler. Mindwise, you're f*cked.

Willie (February 29) A holocaust will claim everyone you know named "Steve". When in doubt, sacrifice a ram on the hood of a Good Humor truck. That grotesque, spongy expulsion next to your commode might be related to you. No, gravity will defy you.

Aries (March 21-April 19) Big whoopeedoo on that promotion of yours. That piece of the True Cross you just found should clear up your acne quite nicely. There are better ways than a blow torch to remove your armpit hair. Caterpillar mustache and sideburns are in this month.

Taurus (April 20-May 20) A strange alien has just impregnated your sister, and you weren't there to watch. Swallow some splinters and claim that your throat's asleep. Throw your glass menagerie to the jackals. Is that phlegm in your urine supposed to be there?

Gemini (May 21-June 21) Remember that the men in your life have certain needs, but a belt in the scrotum should take care of it. Don't light a match around that stale food air. Love thy neighbor, unless he's a friggin' queer. Contemplate Bach gargling.

Cancer (June 22-July 22) Don't be surprised if the Free Money Pelican comes knocking on your door. A breast test will reveal the whereabouts of those lost car keys. Go ahead and strangle that cabbie, but just remember that the meter is running and so is everyone watching you. An aorta or a spleen, it's your choice.

Leo (July 23-August 22) A sentient potato peeler will probe your girlfriend's anus. Your basement is loaded with time warp bric-a-brac that isn't worth squat. Slide a cello beneath a passing bus for luck. Give the walrus a break, willya?

Virgo (August 23-September 22) A coat hanger is not your best choice to drive off that pesty pteronadon. Visit the Flaming Cherries Jubilee Exhibit nearest you. Label your bunions and corns. Don't worry, that menacing, drooling demon in the corner of your bedroom is nothing but a pathetic ruse.

Libra (September 23-October 23) Farina won't work in your Porridge-O-Matic, but moss will. Use onomatopoeia to exorcise the hapless dwarf floundering on your sofa. Stampede yourself. Either you do or you don't but you didn't.

Scorpio (October 24-November 21) The moon in the Seventh House will warp all of your door jambs. Heavens to Betsy and Hells to Marjorie. Avoid avoirdupois weight if at all possible. The time is right to trounce a tarpon.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21) Strafe a nudist camp with a hang glider and a staple gun. Never ever sever the clever lever. A comet will dent your forehead and a straw will break your back. Hog the frozen food department of your supermarket.

Capricorn (December 22-January 19) A partial alignment with Jupiter signifies when it's time to orgasm off your roof. After you're done wiping your ass with the Declaration of Independence, teleport it back where it belongs. Collect dust on your upper lip. Between a rock and a hard place you will find happiness or at least a nest of sow bugs.

*OW*



[[05043CZ]] Classic Zope

"Zope's Pine DNA Cafe"
1/17/93

ZOPE
How 'bout a piping hot bowl of pure pine DNA, Weasel?

WEASEL
Okay, I guess. But how do you make it, Zope. Eh?

ZOPE
Every bowl is made from 6,500 old growth majestic pines. My pet Interdimensional Demons swarm over national parks and drain all the DNA from the trees!

*SLURP!*

WEASEL
Tastes like weak grape Jell-O.

ZOPE
Damn! Well, I guess I'll try oak next.

*OW*



[[06043TS]] Trick Sojourn


***SPICKS***

A while ago I found some writing that had been preserved from my childhood in a hardcover Guinness Book of World Records, like from 1973 or something. Here it is...

"A lot of Dinosaurs I thinck have spicks Beacase one time I saw a movie about animels that they Don't know about to well yet. And one of the Animels I thinc was a live Dinosour that they call it the Locknest monster. But one of Pictires had the spics from the locknest monster."

I'm pretty sure it was my brother who wrote it, but it's representative of our mindset back then, ie, spending a lot of time on subjects like figuring out which creatures have spikes and which don't.


***YOUR E-MAIL IS GONNA COME***

Date:  Sat, May 27, 1995 8:06 AM EST
From:  DMcDoniel
Subj:  OSOA WHAT?
To:      Obliviana

Holy Crap, Frank

I found OW.027 by searching for "monet" files (my secretary wanted a Monet background screen; I found one: "Boats on a Lake", or something, if you care).

I have now downloaded OW.001 through OW.040. I will either read them or just ignore them out of spite.

Sorry, Doug

P.S. If I send you a list of things I just don't get, do you think you could devote an issue to me?

* * *

Date:  Wed, May 31, 1995 7:36 PM EST
From:  Obliviana
Subj:  Re: OSOA WHAT?
To:      DMcDoniel

Dear Doug,

Aha!

I knew the Evil of Claude Monet would serve a purpose someday! Y'know, I'm pleased as punch that you discovered OsoaWeek, buried so far in the desolate wastes of AOL. Yours was the coolest E-mail someone on AOL ever sent me! (actually, it's the ONLY E-mail from AOL...)

Thank you so much for downloading all the issues--that pumps up the download counts I follow so closely! I hope you enjoy my brilliant creation. It really is incredibly amazing, as I'm sure you'll discover for yourself. Just hafta wade through the totally incomprehensible stuff, what LITTLE there is.

As far as devoting an issue to you, you got it, at least the E-mail section. Okay friend? Get it! GET ALL OBLIVIANA!

Love,
Frank Edward Nora
Lord of Obliviana

* * *

Date:  Thu, Jun 1, 1995 5:33 PM EST
From:  DMcDoniel
Subj:  Fonasta
To:      Obliviana

Dear Frank,

Tell me it's not TOO LATE to send in my Fonosta Establishment!
I frankly don't think I can stand another blow of that magnitude.

(((See below for the Fonosta Establishment))

I hope I did this right. I'm easily embarrassed.

Sorry, Doug

* * *

Date:  Sat, Jun 3, 1995 8:52 AM EST
From:  Obliviana
Subj:  Re: Fonasta
To:      DMcDoniel

Doug,

Whoah--an actual Fonosta Establishment! I... I don't believe it...

Congratulations Doug--you have Fonosta number 004! And while I am working on a revision of the Fonosta system, the unbelievably cool number 4 shall remain yours!

Check out OsoaWeek 043, where I'll present your Fonosta and get into the whole issue of Fonosta a little deeper.

Thank a heck of a lot!

Entropy Yours,

Frank Edward Nora
Lord of Obliviana

* * *

And here it is... the fourth official Fonosta Establishment, like, EVER!

FONOSTA 004: "Pronax Basis"
Date Entered: 6/8/95
Personal Information: Douglas McDoniel, Dubuque, IA, Male, Interests: Philosophy, Mathematics, Music, Cinema. Osoa Info: Flower 7, Digs 14, Bellum: Theory Scump, Team Paradox, Tarb: 7, Totems: Clock & Wood, Sentence: "It's the same thing.", Colors: Black, White, and trim: Green, Device: letter "X".

There ya go!


***SONG OF THE WEEK***

The Bangles * "Walk Like an Egyptian" (on various best-of-the-'80s compilations, I'm sure)


***MY AWESOME COMPILATION TAPES***

Presented for your approval--the contents of some of the best compilation tapes I've put together over the years. Self-serving and lame? Get off it, f*ck! Stop being so goddamn critical!

"BASTERD 3"
January 5, 1991
45 min.?
(ONLY ONE SIDE)
1--"No Kid" by Urban Dance Squad
2--"Tuesday Afternoon" by The Moody Blues
3--"Eat the Rich" by Motorhead
4--"Groove is in the Heart" by Deee-Lite
5--"Take Five" by Dave Brubeck
6--"Digital Man"--by Rush
7--"Rose Arcana" by Arcadia
8--"Close to the Edit" by The Art of Noise
9--"Anti-World" by Nina Hagen
10--"Hunter Killer" by Smersh
11-"Der Commisar" by After the Fire

"DISORDER--THE BEST TAPE"
October 23, 1989
90 min.?
SIDE ONE
1--"Minnie's Yoo-Hoo" from a '70s Disney album
2--"The Girl from Ipanema" by Stan Getz
3--"Gimme Shelter" by The Rolling Stones
4--"Theme from Ben Casey, MD"?
5--"I Still Believe" by The Call
6--"Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies"--some kinda solo guitar version
7--"Harvest for the World" by Power Station
8--"Bicycle Race" by Queen
9--"Earth Bound"? by The Jeff Wayne Space Shuttle
10--"I am the Walrus" by The Beatles
11--Songs the mice sing in Disney's "Cinderella"
12--segment from some radio drama
13--"Running Down a Dream" by Tom Petty
14--"Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 32" by The Alan Parsons Project
15--"Veggie Fruit Fruit" from the Kitchen Cabaret, at The Land, in EPCOT, Walt Disney World, Orlando, Florida, USA. No longer exists; replaced by Food Rocks or something.
16--some sort of recording from a U.N. meeting?

SIDE TWO
17--"Beatbox"? by The Art of Noise
18--"Call Me" by Blondie
19--Partridge Family Theme Song
20--"You Only Live Twice" by Nancy Sinatra
21--Snoopy Theme Song (the jazzy one)
22--segment from Bob Grant radio show about Christ
23--"Paint it Black" by The Rolling Stones
24--"Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits
25--"Pop Music" by
26--"Walk Like an Egyptian" by The Bangles
27--"For a Few Dollars More" theme, maybe
28--"Whit It" by Devo
29--"Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper
30--"Perfect Nanny" from the Mary Poppins soundtrack
31--"Wild Boys" by Duran Duran
32--Billy Graham, 1951: "...communism is a Satanic, supernaturally-empowered RELIGION!"


"Elaborate Rhythmatic Harvest"
August 31, 1992
100 min.
SIDE ONE
1--"It Takes Two" by MC Rob Base & DJ Easy Rock
2--"Flying" by The Beatles
3--"Mr. Grieves" by The Pixies
4--"Heartbreaker" by Led Zeppelin
5--"Fool's Gold" by The Stone Roses
6--"Under My Thumb" by The Rolling Stones
7--"Maximizor" by T-99
8--"Idiot Joy Showland" by The Fall.
9--"Close to the Edit" by The Art of Noise
10--"Soul Kitchen" by The Doors
11--"Shake Your Booty" by K.C. and the Sunshine Band
12--"What Goes Up..." by The Alan Parsons Project
13--"19th Nervous Breakdown" by The Rolling Stones
14--"No Sun" from the Art of Noise "Fon Mixes"

SIDE 2
15--"Tales from the Vienna Woods" by Strauss, god knows what version
16--"Home Computer" by Kraftwerk
17--"Deacon Blues" by Steely Dan
18--"Dancing Days" by Led Zeppelin
19--"The Boomin' System" by LL Cool J
20--"I am the Walrus" by The Beatles
21--"The Hustle" by Van McCoy or something, who cares
22--"From a Million Miles" by Single Gun Theory.
23--"Four Sticks" by Led Zeppelin
24--"Break on Through" by The Doors

[:[END]:]

*OW*



[[07043LA]] Lord of Obliviana

Back in the early '80s, my parents got separated. It couldn't have lasted for more than a year, but the memories of that period are some of the fondest of my entire childhood.

See, my father got a cool little apartment near Princeton, and me and my brother would go to see him every weekend. We would go to PJ's Pancake House in Princeton, then visit the Nassau Hobby Shop next door. Cool games, metal figures, magazines, all that. The "Greasy Greeks", a restaurant call Mykonos or something, had a bunch of awesome videogames--Popeye I remember especially.

Then we'd go to the Quakerbridge Mall and play more videogames (this was the much ballyhooed "Golden Age of Videogames", mind you). Then we'd see a movie or something, and go back to watch "Fridays", a short-lived SNL clone, and stay over.

We ate Steak-Ums a lot (yeah, I ate meat back then--funny, huh?). He had a bunch of Playboys, and he let me have one.

My Dad was cool--he just had a mattress on the floor for a bed. I got the impression he had a pretty wild girlfriend--I don't really remember why I got that impression, though.

The point of all this is that it was the cool stuff--the hobby shop D&D stuff, the videogames, the movies, the TV shows--that make the memories so great. Yeah, you might make the point that it was quality time spent with my father, but I don't know--that was part of it, but it was mostly the cool stuff that gives those memories such a fine cast.

I went out with a woman in her 30's who had a 9-year-old son. She said he never got along with her boyfriends, so I always brought a bunch of comic books and trading cards to give to him (I luckily had an overflowing supply of such I no longer wanted). I also brought over Genesis and Super Nintendo. The kid loved me. I showed him "Akira" once though, and I think it gave him nightmares.

Yeah, he thought I was great. Too bad his mom broke up with me a month or two later. Yup.

But it's this materialism--this love of cool stuff--that has real meaning to little boys. Is it a character flaw, then? I don't think so. All this cool stuff stimulates a boy's mind, gets those neurons firing. And that's what it's all about, especially in those days before girls are a realistic option.

I still love al the same cool stuff, much to the chagrin of my girlfriend. Comic books, videogames, magazines, online, trading card games, CDs, movies, all that. I spend alotta money on that kind of stuff.

But then, this is just the sort of stuff a powerful, inventive mind needs. Coolness, newness.

All right. I'm done with that subject. Onward, you know.

June 5, 1995, Monday

Massive fog this morning--the kind where you don't see traffic lights at all until you're virtually right on top of them. When I went out to my Jeep, there were like these spider webs all over my it--but when I examined them, ie, broke them and stuff, I realized they were made apparently entirely of water! Is this a known phenomenon--water forming into sturdy, weblike strands? I saw it on other cars and also at an electrical box at the train station. If anyone out there has any info on this phenom, please contact me. I mean, I hope it's not the end of the world or anything. It'd kind of suck--to have done all this work on OsoaWeek, only for the world to end with only a handful of people having read it.

I just finished last issue last night. It came out to exactly 909 lines of type. So, this issue is the "One After 909"! (Reference to a Beatles song, for all you Beatles-challenged people out there.)

Man, this Amtrak is fast. Rahway already! Suckers goin' like 70 or 80, nonstop baby! Less time to write, though. Ah, what the hell--you want I should get up earlier to get an earlier, slower train? Haha! No way!

+18 right now. Yup. If I get this baby out tonight, just think--I'll be down to +11! I told ya I'd get back on schedule. I told ya man!

Jeez--a little red bug on my PowerBook--I think I crushed it when I lift to pick it up/flick it off. An aphid maybe? Weird morning.

June 7, 1995. Today's the Ninth Anniversary of Halfevil Graphics! I remember that day, June 6, 1986, so well. First of all, numerologically, 1+9+8+6=24, 2+4=6. So the date was 6/6/6. I was into occult ideas, so I was aware of this. Anyway, "Big New Ark" #1 was all ready. All I had to do was go to my father's office and print it up on his copy machine. I figured the date might be a little unlucky to begin a business venture, but I was anxious to get it done I guess.

Me and my brother drove my silver BMW 2002 (a hand-me-down) down to Somerville--to go to Quality Comics first, I guess. Anyway, right on the bridge over 22, the car sputtered and died. And my parents were in Bermuda.

I managed to limp the car to a parking lot. We opened the glove compartment, and found a comic book called "The Demon". That freaked us out pretty good (I'd put it in there months earlier).

Anyway, we got our friend Jim to VERY reluctantly give us a 10-minute ride home. "Big New Ark" was printed the next day, June 7, 1986. I'm glad fate prevented it from launching on that darn 666 date.

Oh! I almost forgot what happened earlier that day. I was working a temp summer job at Ortho Pharmaceutical--as a line tender in the birth control factory. This is where I met Peter Litkey (star of "Beublin A. Richardson", "Train Crap & Blood", and "Assignment: Mystery Box"). He f*cked up bad--spilled a whole box of diaphragms all over the floor. Yeah, he got fired over that, and his general lack of ability in birth control manufacturing.

Also that day, a guy left a pump on not connected to anything, while he went on break. It pumped tons of Aci-Gel onto the floor--$30,000 worth, I later found out. Aci-Gel, a therapeutic vaginal jelly, is a thick, slimy green substance, not at all easy to clean up.

Alright, so I was working merrily away at some line, and one of the managers, Danny, came up to me and said "Frank, we need your assistance." And he brought me over to the spill site.

"What a mess!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah--and you're gonna clean it up!" gruff Vince told me. And indeed I did.

I was given rubber boots, a snow shovel, and a few garbage buckets. It was slow work. Scooping the sh*t up and glopping it into the containers. At one point, a maintenance guy walked by and slipped right on his ass from the slick stuff.

Yeah. That was NINE years ago, man! NINE YEARS! Wow. 1986 was some year. The Occult War, the ABM Radio show and magazine, the birth of Zope, the human right violations scandal, my first sex. And the birth control factory.

Y'know, if I could see the coming nine years back then, I'd've flipped. I thought I was gonna be a millionaire in a year or two tops. Thank goodness it didn't, though. These weird, trying years have done wonders honing me into an awesome person. Had I become an instant millionaire, I would have probably been a real dick.

Yeah. Oh, so the other day I saw them filming a movie on Prince Street. "Basquiat" or something was the working title. I saw Dennis Hopper standing around wearing these idiotic pants. Then a bird sh*t on my arm, and I had to wipe it off on a hard stone wall.

Then today, at the street festival over there, I went in this truck to see "Jamaica Joe--The World's Smallest Human". So I went in there, and there are these two black dwarves there, looking bored and miserable. This sleazy guy says for them to "take care" of me. So the guy, Jamaica Joe, mechanically gets up, picks up a banjo, and plays it for about 30 seconds. Then the girl--his daughter apparently, presses play on a sh*t tape recorder and dances to reggae music for another 30 seconds.
Geez! I felt so bad for them, I gave them a $1 tip over the $1 I paid to get in. I guess that's the ruse--make sensitive folks like me to feel sorry for the little freaks and give up more loot. F*ck, you hardly ever see people that miserable, even in New York. Damn! Even the funkiest homeless reject in New York thinks they're god. They have this haughty attitude, all of them. But these two total losers--forget it. They acted like slaves or something. F*ck.

Yeah, and after that I saw this horrific bird corpse in a wet gutter. Geez! What a disaster!

Alright, so I better get this issue done. Gotta edit Panucci's letter, Jesus Christ!

6/8/95. Last night I decided there were three songs I wanted. "Steppin' Out" by Joe Jackson, "Mr. Roboto" by Styx, and "Ghost Town" by The Specials. You know what I did? I just went to Sam Goody and bought all three CD for around $45. Am I an impulse buyer, or what? Oh yeah, another example, earlier today, I got a Macworld with a CD-ROM inside, an a co-worker made a comment that I couldn't use it at home, so I just went and ordered a triple speed CD-ROM drive, plus a cool software bundle--the street atlas one with the entire US, the phone book one with every phone listing in the US, and a far less cool one about the Capital Building. All this, plus a 50-to-50 pin SCSI connector for under $300!

I definitely buy on impulse. I got the CD-ROM drive for two reasons. One, every day I wish more and more that I had a CD-ROM, and two, I got $200 back from NY state. I just couldn't stand not having a CD-ROM anymore. Y'know? I wanted a Zip drive but yeah, good luck finding it anywhere. It was a 3 to 4 week wait everyplace I called.

Anyways, I got a lotta Severe Repair stacked up in my head, so I better get to work downloading it to reality.

Tough. Last night I was so tired, I didn't get much writing done. 6/9/95 now. On an Amtrak that not going too fast. I still have a bagel and a coffee to get through. Don't know if I can face the bagel--I already had some Harry's Honey Mustard Pretzels and orange juice. Maybe I'll stick the bagel in my pocket and just have the coffee. The little things in life, how much brainpower do we devote... making plans about bagels and coffee...

Here's something interesting. I just went to the bathroom here on the Amtrak, and when I flushed the toilet, you could see outside through the hole in the bowl. So it flushes all the nasty stuff right out onto the tracks! And you know, not in this train, but in another Amtrak, they said not to flush it in the station. I didn't think they'd design it that way. Pretty gross, y'know.

+23 now. Not doin' too good in the catching-up dept., eh? Crap--I have to get this issue done in LESS than 24 hours to make it less late than last issue!

Got a CD-ROM drive. Triple speed. And I have a lot of CD-ROMs. Spinal Tap is one of the coolest.

Only a little over an hour left. After that, this issue would be more late than the last one.

I had a cool adventure today, going to Foul Rift, NJ. I'll tellya all about it next issue! But the coolest part... driving down Route 80, smoking a $10 cigar, listening to country music...

GET ALL OBLIVIANA!

*OW*



[[]] Nihilistica

***PAINFUL ESSAY***

SOME THOUGHTS ON ABORTION

I've been from one extreme to another on the abortion issue. Full Left in the late '80s, full Right in the early '90s. I've done a whole lot of thinking on the issue, and at this point, I think I have something worthwhile to say on the subject. And by the way, this is not parody or satire--just my true musing on the subject.

First of all, I believe that from the moment of conception, a fetus is a human being, and that killing him or her is as unthinkable an act as killing a baby after it's been born. To me, this is plainly apparent.

Just think of "Schindler's List"--all about how the Nazis killed the Jews. It showed how Hitler and company held the belief that Jews weren't human, and therefore, it was okay to kill them. To me, that point of view is absurd--it's plainly apparent that Jews are human beings. Yet, some people persist, to this day, in the Nazi belief. And I'm pretty sure they're wrong.

I'm not trying to compare abortion directly to the Holocaust, just that in the past, massive numbers of people were coerced into an unthinkable belief. And to me, the idea that a fetus is not a human being is just about unthinkable.

Pretty Right so far, eh? Hang on.

The Pro-Life movement generally seeks to ban abortion via law. The idea of a Constitutional Amendment, etc. This focus implies that the problem with abortion is that it's legal. But to me, this isn't the problem at all. The problem is, we have a sexually madcap society.

Kids today are made to feel like outcasts if they don't have sex. I know, cuz I felt that way. There's enormous peer pressure to become sexually active at an early age.

And our collective culture of movies, TV, magazines, etc. is awfully sex-oriented. I'm not condemning this--I'm just saying that's the way it is.

So in the culture as it exists today, abortion is a logical offshoot. Encourage naive, impressionable youngsters to have as much sex as possible, and you're gonna get a lot of unwanted pregnancies. How the hell is a teenage girl capable of making a coherent decision on such a complex issue on her own? She isn't. She looks around her for signs of what she should do. And in this sexual society, the message is clear--YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW--GET THE F*CK RID OF IT, GIRL! CUZ YOU KNOW--IT'S NOT HUMAN! NO PROBLEM!

There is a question regarding to what extent law affects the morality of a society. Some people think that banning abortion would turn this whole cultural problem around. The reasoning: If young people know that they can't get legal abortions, they'll be more careful and more responsible. Um, I don't know, but when people HAVE less sex, don't they want MORE of it to come to them via media? Just a thought.

Anyway, I do not believe that a ban on abortion would change culture that much--women would still be making the unbelievable decision to kill their own baby. It'd just be a bit harder to get rid of him or her. (Like how I use "him or her" instead of "it"? Cute, eh?)

Ah, so if culture is the problem, let's make laws to change it! Oh yes. We're hearing somma that these day, aren't we? Well, just as abortion being wrong is plain to me, so is any government attempt to change culture rampantly UNAMERICAN.

See, America is set of principals and ideals--not a landmass. And in some sick way, abortion is the ugly child of the American ideal as it stretches and adapts to our current high-tech situation. That is, hard as it may be to accept, there's something essentially AMERICAN about abortion, much as it pains me to say so.

Other nasty things have also been uniquely American--such as buying and selling human beings, semi-genocide on the Indians, a superbloody Civil War, atom bombings, and all that. These are all aspects of America--it's a rough place, a place where you gotta keep up the pace, take the initiative, better yourself, focus yourself, even if at the expense of others.

I'm NOT saying "Have an abortion for America!"--I'm just saying that the Pro-Life movement could be toying with idea that could turn the landmass that is now the USA into a place where no true America exists.

If I have to choose between America and the lives of unborn children, I say abort the suckers.

Luckily, this is not the case. We don't have to choose. But we do have to do something--the situation as it currently exists in unacceptable. It's unacceptable because of an idea--the idea that fetuses aren't human.

So now here we are--at perhaps the crux of my position...

A FETUS IS UNDENIABLY A HUMAN BEING, BUT THIS DOESN'T MEAN THAT ABORTION HAS TO BE ILLEGAL

There. I know it sounds a little contradictory, but what the hell--the issue of abortion has gotten so convoluted, the rules are, there are no rules.

Okay. So if fetuses are human, don't they then have a Constitutionally-protected Right to Life? Not necessarily. This right can be taken away--the death penalty (which I'm for, by the way) is one example. So is "pulling the plug" on the brain dead.

Just imagine--if no one decided to have an abortion, it wouldn't matter all that much whether or not it was illegal! Y'know!

The problem is, Pro-Choicers fall back on fetus-is-not-human argument whenever challenged, just about. So Pro-Lifers, by making their rapier-sharp intellectual attacks are producing vast quantities of sh*t--this fetus-not-human idea.

My contention is--It's the fetus-not-human IDEA that's the problem here, not the law. Politicians always harp on the easy issues. Voting on an abortion ban is easy. Bringing culture back to some semblance of what it's morals once were is perhaps an issue with no solution at all. And no politician wants to stand up and say "You know what? I have absolutely no clue how to solve this problem."

I want there to be less abortions than are currently happening--preferably none. I don't see a ban as the way to go about this. The solution I see is to stamp out the cancerous Foul Idea--the notion that fetuses aren't human!

In the end, this whole Painful Essay is just an intellectual exercise. I'm no activist, nor do I really care that much one way or another. I just want to point out what's really going on--that Pro-Lifers are as culpable as Pro-Choicers in the perpetuation of the Foul Idea.

Haha! Look, I've coined a little phrase! "The Foul Idea". Yes!

Anyway, let me take to opposing view for a moment, just to demonstrate my debate prowess.

Okay. There is no scientific evidence of any sort that a fetus in the first trimester is human. This "Foul Idea" notion, which attacks the idea and not the law, is just a precursor to a legal ban. Once the idea that a fetus is human gets a strong foothold, the Right to Life that human beings enjoy in this country will far outweigh any weak push to make an exception in the law for fetuses. Why establish a fetus's Right to Life, then take it away? Especially since it was never there in the first place?

A woman's right to choose is something we must vigorously protect from the oppressive male forces which seek to crush it. This "Foul Idea" is yet another ploy to bring religion into politics, and to make laws about something the government has no business in.

If Frank Edward Nora says a fetus is clearly human, I say it is clearly not. A single cell is not human by any stretch of the imagination, but this is what Nora and others would have you believe.

Let us see through the thinly-veiled ploy that is "The Foul Idea", and resist with all vigor its Pied Piper call.

SEE! There ya go. Don't bother arguing with me--I can do your part better than you ever could!

Uh, sorry. My ego (or is it my id?) got the best of me.

Anyway, how do I answer my countercharges?

Okay. You seem to be obsessed with the state of the law. Huh. Last I checked, drugs like cocaine, heroin, and marijuana were illegal--but somehow, people have no trouble getting their hands on the garbage. Abortion exists regardless of the law. And hey--it's 1995, soon to be 2000. "Back alley" abortions are a thing of the past! All these new techniques--morning after pill, RU-486, and who knows what else in the near future will make it possible for cheap and easy do-it-yourself abortions, legal or not. At this point, the law won't really matter much. Ideas will.

Marijuana, cocaine, heroin--all illegal. But somehow, people never have trouble getting their hands on that sh*t. Again, fighting drugs with laws and ignoring the ideas behind the issue is kind of stupid.

I understand that this Foul Idea is central to the liberal view. It kind of has to be, given the carte-blanche, pro-abortion stance of the far left. But they are the fringe. I think that most people fall somewhere in the middle--and it's in this middle that the Foul Idea can be dismantled and swept away.

You know, it's days later now--I had stopped with "Back alley" up there, and I'm trying to pick up the pace, but there's no way. So, let me end it.

I hope you find my ideas sensical and reasonable. I sure do. It's ashame they mean squat, and that this frickin' stupid issue will just go on and on. Forget abortion. There are better things to worry about. Maybe any mother who'd decide to kill her own baby doesn't deserve one, and maybe that kid's soul will go on to be born to better people. Who knows.

It's just so f*cking boring.

*OW*



[[09043SU]] Superior

SUPERIOR 233
Yum. Greature of Loho, that's all you can say. High there you said and hey why not. Totally hospital your wave of kindness, wanna kill you. Difore of Ud, bash a brains off. Kescin, amazing new plastic, defire yourselves.

SUPERIOR 234
Ungogo. I was thinkling, be a goody. Target in teamness? I don't think so. We have to call this thing ago. We have to call to it. Always see to look where you are. Days turn into years, she said. She's right you know. I know.

SUPERIOR 235
And of tramulous garden walkways we aspire, far from the misery of our heaviness in these times. Funny little car, skull and crossbones and colorful little porcupines painted all over it. The last breath of optimism here, a lurch to try and catch what's totally gone. It's a spirit that hung heavy over the world. But it was always moving. And it moved on.

SUPERIOR 236
I am a wristwatch made of mist. Commanda Royal Blue, the cinnamon backlash affair. Junction, the mystery of the man made of milk.

SUPERIOR 237
I've become very disenchanted with that cruller. Can't call it despair. Suck of coffee, I am its liferaw. I can write that, I can kick ass in the marketplace. Give me the storm.

SUPERIOR 238
Killer. She brushed her teeth naked. Gotta stick my tongue into her. Honey. Miner. This time I know I'm losing my mind. I could be inventing things, instead I'm obsessing on Vanessa. The visualized lick.

SUPERIOR 239
The exorcism of Falhoad, the sculpture had to be washed clean. Foolish wall in dream, you're a dick. Whiaver had a theme park, entertainment resort, kind of walk and eye. If you can't see me so good, swash the water vapor off the window in your head. It's gotta be it.

SUPERIOR 240
Cracking my toes is a necessity. Regularly. How does gray flowerful isthmus. Binking never to totter, hump of universality. Lookback, take a whack at constructsation. Getting out, you have to be at a Sears.

*OW*



[[10043IS]] Into E-mber Severe Repair

[:[SVR004]:]

SEVERE REPAIR
E-MBER 004
by Frank Edward Nora

Hi there. Today, you'll be reading "Truly Makes It". I think you'll enjoy it--I sure enjoyed writing it! Cheers.

INFORMATION: Severe Repair E-mber 004, May 18, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. You're Prey unless you get a Predator Deed for this release. Contact us for more on this concept. You can cancel or subscribe to this E-mber anytime, via E-mail.

*OW*



[[11043SR]] Severe Repair

SEVERE REPAIR 43: "Truly Makes It"

My body is made out of night and my eyes are two stars. Two deep amber stars. Yesterday the world changed--I could feel it. Right in the middle of the day, right in class, it hit me like a truck. I don't know if anyone else noticed it. Now, tonight, I'm on the streets of the city, the streets of Mav Saptax. I am new.

I would have thought that a change like this would have come when the comet went by a few months ago. You could barely see it around here anyway. I was out there though, all night long, waiting, praying that the clouds would go away. Finally, we saw it for a few minutes, far in the distance, like the sun reflected on a ceiling by water. In the binoculars, I could see that much.

Now, what a rush, what a feeling of freedom. This body, this body that I formed, that I sculpted out of the material of night, it is as perfect as my human body is imperfect. Tall, slim, muscular, perfect ass, perfect breasts, perfect legs, perfect hair. A hardbody. Thing is, it reflects no light--I must look like a silhouette, a shadow, to anyone looking. No need for clothes, nothing to hide. It feels good to walk around the city naked.

And the tactility! All the senses of this body I've made are far sharper than my own dumpy human form. Touch, smell, hearing, sight--even the taste of sea air--all vastly improved. I've been roaming for hours. A few people have seen my glowing eyes in the darkness, but went on with their lives--not wanting to rock the boat, I guess. Not wanting to know what sort of monstrosity was behind them.

What a body! I wondered what I'd feel like to another person in this form. In the dark, would I feel like true flesh? I wanted to find out. There were some guys at school I had a major crush on, who wouldn't give me the time of day as my fat little pimply human. But now, in this glorious form, I must have been more beautiful by an order of magnitude than any other girl at Shirt University. Only problem, you can't really see me, just my outline. Maybe there was some way to change this, to make myself visible in this form. But this was the first night, and there were a lot of unanswered questions.

It started just after I went to bed. My roommate was out--again--sleeping over her boyfriend's, making me feel great as usual. I'd been feeling dizzy ever since the change, and I couldn't wait to get back from the library and just hit the hay. But just as I was slipping away, I woke back up right away--something was very wrong.

It was... an awfully strange feeling in tee region of my belly. A tickling sensation. I'd always felt something down there, but figured it was just a female thing; I figured it was something to do with making babies. But I'd never felt it so strong--and it was hot and tiring as well as tickling. There was something down there, and as the intensity of the feeling got stronger, I felt all energy drain out of me. I started feeling more tired than I've ever been. I was up on my elbows looking down at myself, and while I should have been panicking, I wasn't Somehow, I knew it was alright.

But I couldn't hold myself up anymore so I just collapsed and lied back. The feeling was really intense now, spread from between my legs to the bottom of my breasts. It felt sexually good, and I started to drift away, light headed, losing consciousness, blissful, euphoric.

Then I was... somewhere else. I was... I was inside my own belly. I was in there seeking exit... through, through my bellybutton. I was a ball of energy with massive power. A ball of energy still waking up, still recovering from decades of dormancy. I was moving slowly, millimeter by millimeter, upward, toward my navel.

In wonder, I shot out feelers to examine my surroundings--heart, uterus, vagina, kidneys, other stuff I wasn't familiar with. And I was so lucid, just like, like it was totally normal to be a little ping-pong-ball-sized ball of fire.

So I pushed and pushed, ever so slowly, to the only realistic exit from the body--as I said, the bellybutton. And memories were coming back to me--another belly--my mother's. Flashes of a huge library of memories--searching for the right fetus to possess. Maybe spending years before I found the right one, but still a sense of urgency that I had to hide myself, had to possess a human body in order to escape some horrible fate. Some downtime--that's a phrase that came to mind.

But now--it's not clear whether or not I was supposed to have awakened. I think it was the change in the world that made me wake up. I don't know how long I was to have stayed hidden--maybe the whole lifetime. But now, for better or for worse, I was out--and I didn't really care if I'd ever go back to that nasty human body again. I couldn't even bear the thought, being in such glory. But again, it was still the first night.

In my human body's belly, I kept rising for a long time, until I finally approached the event horizon that was my bellybutton. It couldn't have been more than an hour. But in the few moments it took me to break free, I felt a catharthis like none I could have ever imagined. To be free of such a flawed body! It felt like stripping off horrible, sweaty clothes after being in them for far too long. Only, a lot better than that. A whole lot.

So I was in my room--it was taxing at first to fly, but I was able to go about it, slowly at first, but easily. I had some senses in this form, but they were limited. More like psychic impressions than true senses. I looked down at the gross body I hated so much, looking like a stain upon reality, just snoring away.

I felt an urgency to get outside into the natural night, so I headed for the window, which was closed, but found that I couldn't get through it. So I wasn't an immaterial phantom--I was really there, pressing against the glass and not getting anywhere. So I scanned around, and finally found my way out through the crack under the door--a bit of a squeeze

In the hall I was still disoriented. I saw someone either coming into or going out of the door, so I shot past them and into the aching infinity of the night. I don't know whether or not they saw me, nor did I care.

Outside I felt a lot better, a lot more bright and energetic. I knew I was glowing brighter too--a lot brighter. Then I cut loose, and flew with all my might upward and into the wanting sky. I was virtually blind, but I knew it was right. I flew and flew and flew, until finally I hovered what must have been a few miles above the city. And I took in the night.

What I mean is, I reached out and felt it, caressed it, and started gathering it, in great sheets. I started gathering it--how it was happening I couldn't say, but I collected a great amount of it and felt, for the moment, satisfied. It was, I realized, what I was so hungry for.

Then I had a flash of realization--I had to make myself a body out of night. It was incredible--all the possibilities flashed before me--all the bodies I could take. Unicorn, fiend, eagle, troll, griffin, manatee (!!), satyr, centaur, lamp dainty, elf, fairy, human... I knew it had to be human.

I quickly decided it would be female and perfect. Maybe 6-foot-2, luxurious, long hair, shapely form, strong, fast--all that. Perfect.

Now that I had the design before me, I took my bundle of night and spread it out in all directions, until there were sheets of it extended for several cubic miles. Now I could begin the work of weaving the body.

It came naturally to me, and I worked hour after hour, slowly sculpting the beautiful thing of the supple stuff of night.

Inside and out, what a wonderful creation.

As I reached the final stages of the weaving, the body began to slowly descend earthward. And as I put the final touches on it, it landed softly on some wet grass in front of a corporate center. It lay there peaceful, breathing, and I felt myself all over it.

All that was left was to possess it.

But this time, I didn't go into its belly. Instead, I drifted over to its sweet open mouth and went in. The inner anatomy of the beauty was different from human, because from the top of the throat I pushed my way upward into the head cavity, where a brain would be in a human. There, I split myself into two parts--still connected, but distinct. Two little balls of fire.

As these two, I nestled myself into the eye sockets, and took it. I took the beauty. And suddenly I was in there--in that wonderful body. And I knew my name was no longer Nancy Smollan, but Trulufog. And as Trulufog--"Truly", I think I'll call myself--I opened my incandescent eyes and felt the cold, wet grass beneath me.

I stood up, shakily at first. The structure of this body was still sorting itself out. It felt still and off-balance. So I started walking--limping really--all naked and wonderful in the magic of the night--the night I was now made of.

At that point, I was really wondering whether or not I'd ever need to return to my unacceptable human form. I sure hoped not. But like I keep saying, it was the first night, and there was a lot I didn't know.

After walking around a bit, I started to feel a little more integrated and well-oiled. I got to a little lake or pond or something, and looked in it. Wow. Just like I imagined--a majestic shadow--the epitome of feminine beauty--with two deep amber/orange glowing eyes. Cool. Really cool.

I tried to fly for the next few minutes, but it just wasn't happening. I thought that as a part of the night, I should be able to fly up into it. But it was a no-go. I could leap pretty far into the air--20 or 30 feet--but couldn't fly. Oh well, can't ask for everything.

And during the whole blooming that night, I had this strong feeling that I was way out of bound, that it shouldn't be happening, that no one knew about it, that I was totally on my own. That stabbing, that pioneering, felt good.

I started walking toward downtown Mav Saptax then. My bare feet could feel very nuance of every speck of everything on the ground, but the night I was made of was pliant and durable--kind of like rubber. It felt kind of weird, but I knew I wasn't going to get cut or anything. Even walking over broken glass, like I did a few times, was nothing to worry about.

I wandered, amazed how easy it was to avoid detection. So many dark places to blend into--the only way I could be seen was in front of a well-lit something. And even in moderately-lit areas, I was all but invisible. Except for my eyes, that it. It was late, but being a college town, there were still some folks about. A few people definitely saw my eyes, but like I said, they might have stood in wonder for a few seconds, but they resisted the temptation to investigate further.

At one point, I myself thought I saw two glowing eyes--light blue/cyan ones. I'm pretty sure I did. But it was no use--I tried to follow them, but there was nothing there.

Was it another being like me, awakened by the change in reality? I guess it must have been, but I didn't let it bother me too much. I was already hot and bothered--the prospect of losing my virginity--even if it was to be in this new body, was thrilling me. How to do it, though--how to hide the weirdness of this body...

A blind guy? Nah. Too hard to find, and not much fun. A drunk guy? Yeah. The next day, he'd have to doubt his memories. So I headed for a part of town I was pretty sure had a bunch of bars and clubs. I felt ashamed of it--of looking for sex right away in this glorious new body--but I just had to prove to myself that indeed it was my body--my human body--and not ME--that kept me from the loving arms of a man.

Soon I found the perfect spot--a club--"Sgootchie's"--that was just closing. Had to have been about 2 AM then. I stood right by the door, in the shadows, and examined all the people coming out. A mixed bunch--some not too drunk at all.

Then I saw him. Rom Jeffer. One of the guys I had a crush on, from my anthropology class. And luck was with me tonight--he stumbled in my direction, almost right into my arms. As he regained his balanced, I grabbed him and pulled him to me. From his breath I could tell he was totally wasted. Good.

"I want you." I said in a low voice--and what a voice it was! Deep, rich, a little husky--and totally sexy.

I had my eyes closed so as not to startle him. So I couldn't tell exactly how he was reacting--but I took his hand and brought it to my left breast. He began squeezing it immediately.

"Whoah." he exclaimed in a blast of alcohol breath.

I opened my eyes, and before he could react, I brought his lips to mine and French kissed him. It was a pretty good kiss.

Then I let go of his head and looked for his reaction. He was totally confused.

"D-Donna?" he said.

"No, my name is Truly." I said, reveling in that voice. "Why don't you come with me Rom--we can do it in the grass."

His expression wavered from joy to confusion to caution, like a mass of jelly.

"Okay." he finally said.

So I took his hand and led him down the street, wanting to get back to that grassy lawn, but realizing it was too far. So I just took him into an alley, unzipped his pants, and started playing with him. And before I knew it, I was being f*cked.

It felt good. This new body had all the sexual response of a human body, and more. It certainly did feel wonderful--all 30 seconds of it. I felt a huge amount of his stuff spray inside of me, then he pulled out, stumbled backwards, and fell on his ass.

"Whoah." he said again.

I frowned down at him, on the verge of tears. Could this body cry?, I wondered. He started playing with himself and nodding off. Great. Great first encounter. I turned and left him there, hoping he'd be embarrassed the next day, someone finding him there with his big dick hanging out of his pants.

Oh well, what was I expecting?

So I walked off, but a few blocks later, I bent over, put my hands on a brick wall for support, and expulsed Rom's seed from me, and let it drop to the street, where it belonged.

So I wandered. It felt so good just to walk around. I felt great. Many thoughts passed through my mind. Did I just lose my virginity? I don't think this body had any hymen to break, but so what? My human hymen was already broken, though I never had sex. That didn't make me any less a virgin, I didn't think. Horseback riding and stuff, you know.

No, I did certainly have sex just then. But to think--since I existed before the birth of my human body, wouldn't I have had sex before then? It seemed certain, though my memories were hardly there. So what qualified as losing virginity? Having sex as a human?

Somehow, with a body made of night, I didn't really matter to me anymore.

[:[END]:]

*OW*



[[END043OW]]



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