[Nettime-bold] Re: [Syndicate] [ot] [!nt] \n2+0\

[Claudia Westermann <media@ezaic.de>]

I hope you did not unlearn scrolling at least.
So scroll with me, please.

> >>it is la tourvel. as for your indivisible ...
> >
> >
> >
> >jealous. you, valmont. what a regression. i could understand you if you
> >would know him. by the way, i am certain you have met him.
> >an attractive man. though he looks like you. even birds migrating flutter
> >in the nets of habit though their flights span continents. turn around once.
> >his advantage is his youth. in bed as well if you want 2 know. do you 
> want 2 know.
> >a dream if i assume you are reality, valmont, begging your pardon. in 
> ten years
> >perhaps there won't be any difference between you if i could turn you 
> into a stone now
> >with one loving glance of the medusa. or into a more pleasing substance. 
> a fertile notion:
> >the museum of our loves. we would have full houses wouldn't we, valmont, 
> with the statues
> >of our putrefied desires. those dead dreams classified according to the 
> alphabet or
> >lined up in chronological order, free of the accidents of flesh, not 
> exposed anymore
> >to the horrors of change. our memory needs those crutches: one doesn't 
> even remember
> >the various bends of cocks, not to mention faces: a haze. la tourvel is 
> an insult.
> >i didn't release you into liberty so you could mount a cow, valmont. i 
> could understand it
> >if you would take an interest in little volange, a vegetable fresh from 
> a convent's discipline,
> >my virginal niece, but la tourvel. i admit she is a mighty piece of 
> flesh but to be shared with
> >a husband who has sunk his teeth into it, a loyal husband as i have good 
> reason to fear, and for
> >who knows how many years. what's left for you valmont. the dregs. do you 
> seriously want to poke
> >around in those muddy leftovers. i pity you, valmont. if she were a 
> whore who had learned her trade.
> >la merreaux, for example, i would share her with ten men. but the only 
> lady of high society perverse
> >enough to enjoy herself in wedlock, a bigot with reddened knees from the 
> pew and swollen fingers
> >from wringing her hands before her father confessor. those hands won't 
> touch a genital, valmont,
> >without the blessing of the church. i'll bet she's dreaming of 
> immaculate conception when her
> >loving spouse lowers himself on her with the conjugal intention to make 
> her a child, once every year.
> >what is the devastation of a landscape compared to the despoiling of 
> lust through the loyalty of
> >a husband. of course, the count gercourt contemplates the innocence of 
> my niece. in good faith,
> >by the way; the bill of sale is filled with the magistrate. and perhaps 
> you are afraid
> >of his competition, he already snatched la vressac from under your nose, 
> and you were two years
> >younger at the time. you are getting old, valmont. i thought it would be 
> a pleasure for you,
> >besides a ride on the virgin, to crown the beautiful animal gercourt 
> with the inevitable antlers
> >before he assumes the gamekeeper's office, and all the poachers of the 
> capital raid his forest
> >and keep renewing his subscription for his headgear. be a good dog, 
> valmont, and pick up
> >the scent as long as it is fresh. a little youth in your bed since the 
> mirror doesn't provide it
> >anymore. why lift your leg at a poor box. or are you pining for the alms 
> of marriage.
> >shall we give an example to the world and marry each other, valmont.
> >
>
>
>
>how could i dare insult you thus, marchioness, in front of all the world. 
>the alms could be poisoned.
>be the way, i prefer to select my hunt myself. or the tree i am lifting my 
>leg at, as you call it.
>rain hasn't fallen on you in a long time, when did you last look in the 
>mirror, friend of my soul.
>i wish i could still serve you as a could but the wind is driving me 
>towards new skies.
>i don't doubt i will make the poor box blossom. as for the competition: 
>marchioness, i know
>your long memory. you won't forget even in hell that the president 
>preferred tourvel to you.
>i am prepared to become the loving tool of your revenge. and i expect a 
>better hunt from
>the objekt of my adoration than from your virginal niece, inexperienced as 
>she is in the
>arts of fortification. what could she have learned in the convent but 
>fasting and a little
>godpleasing masturbation with the crucifix. i bet that after the frost of 
>filial prayers
>she burns for the coup de grace to put an end to her innocence. she will 
>run into my knife
>before i have even drawn it. she won't even double once: she doesn't know 
>the thrills of the hunt.
>what is game to me without the lust of the chase. without the sweat of 
>fear, the choked breath,
>the turning upward of the white of the eye. what's left is digestion. my 
>best tricks will make
>a fool of me like the empty theatre does of the actor. i will have to 
>applaud myself.
>the tiger is a ham. let the rabble fornicate between door and threshold, 
>their time is expensive,
>it's costing us money; our noble vocation is to kill time. it demands 
>everything of a human being;
>there is too much of it. happy he could make clocks of the world stand 
>still: eternity as an
>eternal erection. time is the void of creation, all of mankind fits into 
>it. for the rabble,
>the church has stuffed it with god, we know it is black and hasn't a 
>bottom. if the rabble is going
>to find this out, they'll stuff into it after him.

marchioness,

it is your impatience that makes the story choose its path.
You thinking me might reveal reflections of your own desires. But, 
misleading they are.
This is not the Valmont I know. And in this moment in time I have to tell 
you, that I will not become whatever you want me to be. I will resist. My 
own experiences build the base for something you fear to call reality.
Is there a reality ? Are there truths ? It seems you chose one and it would 
not have been my choice. I would not even have thought of it until now. 
Unhappy it is, hurting it is. So why should I do so ?
Did you not read the books ? Is reading learning ? Not for you ?
Lucky, I am old enough and had time to read my own story and to learn a 
little, still and never enough.

Regarding your speech, I have to tell you, it almost reveals some warm 
amusement. Knowing the power of words, it is bristled with fear. What are 
you suggesting ? A game ? May I ask you how old you are ?
A child might not know when a game should be stopped.
La Volange. A one sided teaching game you are suggesting. But how can you 
know ? There might be something we should learn from youth. Should I really 
take all those dreams away in one strike ? Life will do so. I will not 
enter this role. Let them learn slowly. It is hard enough, but they might 
survive a little longer this way. And if they are clever, much more clever 
than we are, they might achieve to keep some of their dreams even. You seem 
confused.
La Tourvel. Did I mention her ? I do not think so. She was not at all in my 
mind. This was your thinking not mine. Why are you mentioning someone 
obviously so contraire to you ? Do you want to tell me, what there is you 
can not give, obviously ? Do you really think so ? Is this supposed to be 
an escape for me ? Where ? Should I believe the obvious ? Always ? You seem 
confused.
Examples. Is it the most important to give examples to the world ? Is this 
what you call public ? Dear, if you think so, I might agree on it, although 
my hope would be, that this is less important. Call me an egoist. I might 
deserve it.
Non smoking concept. Irony might be displaced here and now. Sorry, this is 
one of my weak points. I would vote for numbers. Definitely. I always had 
such a hard time to remember names. Somehow silly. And if there are 
numbers, one can spend the spare time ( I doubt there would be so much of 
it ) on doing calculations. As more numbers there are, the more 
possibilities there are for the variation in calculations. Could become 
fun, although some simple mindfuck. I am inclined to believe that 
simplicity has some advantages sometimes.


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