This blog post is part of “Deal with the Devil,” a third promotion originally inspired by the first and second ones I did with Harmony Corrupted: “Brace for Impact” and “Searching for Secrets” (2024). The first promotion was meant to promote and provide Volume Two, part one’s individual pieces for easy public viewing (it has since become a full, published book module: the Poetry Module). “Deal with the Devil” shall do the same, but with Volume Two, part two’s opening/thesis section and one of its two Monster Modules, Demons (the “Searching for Secrets” promotion covered the Undead Module, which is now live). As usual, this promotion was written, illustrated and invigilated by me as part of my larger Sex Positivity (2023) book series.

Click here to see “Deal with the Devil’s” Table of Contents and Full Disclaimer.

Volume Two, part two (the Demon Module) is out (2/14/2025)! Go to my book’s 1-page promo to download the latest version of the PDF (which will contain additions/corrections the original blog posts will not have)!

Permissions: Any publicly available images are exhibited for purposes of education, transformation and critique, thus fall under Fair Use; private nude material and collabs with models are specifically shared with permission from the original model(s). For more details about artist permissions, refer to the book disclaimer (linked above).

Concerning Buggy Images: Sometimes the images on my site don’t always load and you get a little white-and-green placeholder symbol, instead. Sometimes I use a plugin for loading multiple images in one spot, called Envira Gallery, and not all of the images will load (resulting in blank white squares you can still right-click on). I‘ve optimized most of the images on my site, so I think it’s a server issue? Not sure. You should still be able to access the unloaded image by clicking on the placeholder/right-clicking on the white square (sometimes you have to delete the “?ssl=1” bit at the end of the url). Barring that, completed volumes will always contain all of the images, whose PDFs you can always download on my 1-page promo.

Dark Xenophilia, part one: Monster-Fucking and Furry Panic, from Ace to Ass (feat. Lycans, Chimeras, and Sentient Animals; e.g., Cuwu, “Pelts,” Erika Eleniak, Sonic the Hedgehog and Pippi Longstocking)

Many of the negative stereotypes about the furry fandom were empirically tested and found to be unsubstantiated. When compared to a control group, furries were significantly more likely to have a history of being physically and verbally bullied, a difference particularly prominent during adolescence (61.7% vs. 37.1%). Our studies indicate that 65% of furries say that they have told almost no one in their family about their furry interests, and approximately 70% say that they have told almost no one they see in their day-to-day life (e.g., work). Approximately 60% of furries agreed that they felt prejudice against furries from society, while approximately 40% of furries felt that being a furry was not socially accepted. The more strongly a person identifies as a furry, the more likely they are to feel that they are treated worse by society for being furry (source).

—Fur Science, “What’s a Furry?” (2022)

Picking up where “Call of the Wild,” part two: Dark Xenophilia (opening)” left off…

For this subchapter, I want to make some additional “ace to ass” distinctions about totems, chimeras and sentient animals, et al, as a strictly natural class; i.e., before talking about lycan/furry stigmas and so-called “furry/groomer panic” when attempting to reclaim these variables—doing so for purposes of dark/radical xenophilic empathy and vengeful sex-positive education (e.g., Dario Argento’s 2006 “Pelts” and Erika Eleniak in Under Siege, but also Sonic the Hedgehog and Pippi Longstocking) when regarding sex and gender in totemic language, in part two: empathy as a “drug” to chase down and take, post-synthesis (and watch reactionaries moral panic/pearl clutch, like with the Green M&M; but also just any form of nature that’s out-of-hand insofar as the state determines such things).

(artist: Chorio Actis)

Note: When saying “xenophilia,” I am generally using it to refer to a sex-positive discourse unfolding vis-à-vis state abjections of nature; i.e., as something to reverse on and off the same stages, combatting their xenophobia and xoophilia with our love of nature while being part of it, ourselves. Technically these are dualistic, but collocate historically-materially to deliver certain connotations I’m falling back on; i.e., “dark xenophilia” is empathetic towards nature as normally pimped by the state for being alien, whorish, non-nuclear and so on, whereas “xenophobia” and “xoophilia” are things used more by the state during the abjection process. It’s ultimately a question of stewardship regarding the reclamation of things by workers from the state; i.e., some things being easier to reclaim than others, technicalities aside; e.g., furries and xenophilia in suitably haunted forms of porn-adjacent language that gives room for ace forms to thrive. Save for an ace-centric exhibit at the end of this section (and the one above), I primarily focus on erotic forms, but still wanted to include and distinguish the social-sexual gradient those belong to! —Perse

First thing’s first, this includes the awesome power of friends; e.g., Cuwu, Victoria, and Quinnvincible, who we’ll all talk about as suitably awesome people for their friendship as GNC people/furries. But it extends to people who weren’t furries, too. Some people are so amazing that meeting them feels sadly too brief—is like a magic spell or arguably hallucinatory opium dream that you want to last forever but doesn’t; e.g., Krispy Tofuuu someone who rocked my world, furry or not! And yet, while the dream arguably fades, their glory lives on in my heart and work, for as long as those last: “Come and see!” said one of the Four Beasts.

To show the tyrant the endless unburied dead in something other than a field, bird’s-eye, is to freeze them in place, the Medusa not a monster to slay but love! Buildings burn, and bodies fester and rot, but the shadows live on, the Gothic written in decay—on the cusp of sexuality penetrating the barrier as something to acclimate towards and occupy between shared excited states; i.e., through the asexuality of choice as something animals don’t naturally have, letting people build and cultivate something beyond capital or old natures seeking better stewardship towards all!

(model and artist, top-left: Krispy Tofuuu and Persephone van der Waard; everything else, artist: Krispy Tofuuu)

As stated, part two will extend this precarious education through magic girls—Sailor Scouts and the solar system, but other forms closer to home, which children are introduced to, then explore later on as sexually-maturing teenagers growing into adulthood: unicorns and other forms of magic/drug reclamation and sex education tied to the natural world; re: as policed, becoming infused with trauma, begetting liminal composites/chimeras like the xenomorph.

To it, eco-fascism is a problem, as well (as we’ll explore in Volume Three), meaning that oppositional synthesis regularly yields different groups identifying with/around nature as something to fortify for the state or for workers. We’re going to explore the basic idea of furry panic, here—meaning as tied to Cartesian thought at large, thus how to think about in ways that humanize monsters “of nature” the state and its proponents traditionally dehumanize, thus brutalize for profit as pimps thereof getting even with “bad” whores; i.e., neglect, ignorance and/or distance; e.g., Turkey Tom‘s 2023 (extremely problematic) “Degenerate[1]” series on Bronies and Five Nights at Freddy’s ghost of the counterfeit, or Lily Orchard’s pedophile escapades, hidden behind sexualized Brony fan fiction (Essence of Thought, 2021).

Unlike the demons we’ve examined thus far in this module, totems et al are not undead or occult by default. While manmade trauma can certainly be included (see: chimeras, below), these animal-themed egregores are essentially living creatures. This means they don’t tend to seek out humans for their essence (though they do sometimes eat, maul or stab them), nor are they strictly summoned from a supernatural world beyond Earth and its ecosystems. Instead, they inhabit an Earth-like area or range as part of its “sample of one,” often echoing qualities of Indigenous populations ranging from the Celtic peoples of Great Britain to the Native Peoples of the Americas, Middle East, Asia and elsewhere. Let’s unpack each, one by one.

Wherever they hail from, totems tend to be incredibly animalistic and, more to the point, primitively sexual (from a Cartesian standpoint) and wedded to nature; i.e., as beings of nature, including the spirits associated with them as of the forest, lunar cycle and various Pagan rites, etc—all packing power as a choice of various ways that humans as animals can uniquely social-sexually communicate regarding the liberatory paradox of nature! Contrary to Cartesian thought, we’re not just machine’s with one purpose, nor beasts of burden serving an ancient-to-modern fulfillment of that aim; i.e., to yoke and privatize for profit (sex or otherwise). Neither is any animal treated as such, human or not! Liberation is a holistic, cross-species affair! Our stewardship is total, looking out for animals as unable to deal with human treachery like humans can!

So do furries walk the edge, speaking to simultaneous alienation and fetishization not just of workers under capital, but nature and workers relating back and forth in social-sexual forms that can be sexual, but likewise until then merely advertise sexuality—meaning in ways that don’t actualize as sexual until both parties agree; i.e., ludo-Gothic BDSM as tied to a larger worldview making such stewardship and dark empathy second-nature: according to the usual xenophilia as holistically gradient, hence accounting for all reactions per mutual consent as something to illustrate vis-à-vis the nature world; i.e., as liberated from capital’s kennel-like brothels’ alienized-and-sexual tout le monde!

“Welcome to slavery”? As if, Quentin Tarantino! We tease a healthier symbiosis walking the necrobiome, our deliciously lost-in-necropolis dream pushing up ass-like “daisies” (or vice versa): towards fresh radiation and—if we actually need it—penetration, too; i.e., as a matter of good BDSM checking and subverting profit as normally and impulsively chasing profit, devil-may-care! But also, such feral pornography can just be appreciated as art, too! Porn is art, and it looks nice! For some, that’s more than enough! Freedom and exploitation occupy the same awesome realms:

(artist: Lumidetsu)

Entombed in time without decay! […]

The world is full of mysteries

That men have never seen before
Magik lives in all dynasties
The light of love shines ever more (Manilla Road’s “Lost in Necropolis“)

In other words, totems are not Western funerary beings by design, tending to be highly physical creatures developed as animals are: in terms of their senses (such as smell or taste)—with mystical shamanistic connections, spiritual projections, and/or hedonism and ritualized access-through-drugs also a possibility but not a given (whose magical associates we’ll explore more in part two of this subchapter). If they are magical, their magic comes from the Earth itself and the natural world, not the underworld or spirits associated strictly with the land of the dead or a parallel dimension beyond nature (though this can certainly be a factor when intersecting with other monster modules; re: the xenomorph).

Chimeras are essentially composites, albeit tending to be demonic combinations of different stigma animals instead of undead parts. Chimeras aren’t simply common monsters in underworld stories—e.g., Cerberus or Amit—but are combined from the minds of different artists expressing nature in deathly ways. To this, the potential for hybridization lends itself well to compound expression; re: the xenomorph. Giger’s chimera/composite was itself several things at once: a dark, “ancient” monster but also a perverse brainchild begot from a host of artists, while also surviving inside technology and people as a biomechanical death curse that kills one person at a time. In doing so, it transforms its victims in ways not fully divorced from the white colonizer’s perspective: the non-white/trans person as a leftover from the ancient world, thus terrifying during the abjection process.

A large part of the canonical fear being invoked is the xenomorph as a rapacious and parasitoid monster-fucker (or rather, a monster who fucks out of revenge). But colonial guilt and fear of transformation isn’t something that strictly must inhabit the ritual. Simply put, monster-fucking is rape play but can focus on sex positivity as restorative expression unto itself—to be enjoyed by not focusing on the xenophobic rapes of yesterday and more on what could be if workers were allowed to be sexual with the same demonic monster language; i.e., dark xenophilia during ludo-Gothic BDSM—with non-human animals unable to consent to sex, but anthromorphs being human entities that don’t naturally exist: they’re byproducts of technology coming out of oral cultures into written ones, and hauling a great deal of baggage, thus desire for revenge against the state via the usual routes of challenging profit/anti-predation speaking for itself (“Who’s a good puppy slut? You are!”).

(artist: Lumidetsu)

Who might they fuck, given the choice? What hellish forms might they take, themselves? In short, just about whatever you can imagine! As long as it’s mutually consensual, then no harm, no foul; i.e., no children, non-sentient animals or dead bodies (none of which can consent to sexual activities, or BDSM at large). Monster sex, then, is commonly animalized, and just as empathetic for it in drug-like magical ways during dark xenophilia (with drugs also being a potent aphrodisiac):

(exhibit 52d: Model and artist: Krispy Tofuuu and Persephone van der Waard. As Krispy and I demonstrate, if you can’t get away from monsters, you can at least make ones that won’t harm you during sex. Their excessive, alien forms often look scary and dangerous, but in practice are perfectly safe.)

During the dialectic of the alien, non-sentient animals intimate another exploited group: pets, livestock and chattel, that serve as a non-anthropocentric, asexual aspect to nature that humans can bond with; i.e., in regards to seeing the natural world differently by identifying with it under Cartesian duress (called therians, for animals that have and do exist; versus “otherkin[2]” tying to mythical/extraterrestrial, non-human creatures). As part of this altered perspective, sentient versions of animals do exist in fantasy stories; i.e., those able to magically communicate with humans through a kind of universal language. A common example of the sentient animal include witch’s familiars like the talking cats from Sailor Moon, but also enchanted, cognizant animals like the unicorn, Amalthea, from The Last Unicorn. “Sentience” generally denotes an anthropomorphic connection with nature as something to respect and communicate through complicated dramas like the stories we just mentioned. We’ll get back to those in part two.

A moment ago, I mentioned accessing lycans, chimeras and sentient animals through magic theatre and/or drugs as metaphor or actual; i.e., the interaction with nature by proxy through rituals, practitioners, spells and mind-altering substances (again, actual or implied[3]) tied to anthropomorphic animals.

For example, ambrosia in Ancient Greek means “immortality.” It was denied to mortals, and historically framed by Mary Shelley as “fire of the gods.” Biblically denied to Mankind, people become binarized as men and women, its “theft” by the privatizing gods of a Protestant ethic under capital denying any ability to “die” in a “little” way—to transform and live on in ways that not only reshape how people think in rebellious modes of discourse; they live on through the spectral, orgasmic, nightmarish, drug-like attempt itself. They don’t have to be literal drugs (though they certainly can be); they just have to transform the mind enough to make a difference against Capitalist Realism; re: like Blake’s devilish “acids” did: a figurative deal with the Devil (in the Milton-Byronic Satanic sense).

We’ll also unpack this concept more in part two, when we consider various non-Christian pacts with nature, but also composite demons infused with trauma like the xenomorph; i.e., as something natural-material to arrive at through magic, drugs and a queer-inclusive Wisdom of the Ancients’ dark xenophilia. For now, just remember that magic and drugs are historically criminalized to exploit various groups demonized differently for the same purpose (rape and profit) under the status quo; i.e., the War on Drugs something of a hauntological regression that polices the present world in past language, specifically past holocausts dressed up as home defense in bad faith: DARVO obscurantism pimping the alien to dehumanize the harvest, thus having the state’s pre-emptive revenge against nature as monstrous-feminine, chattelizing its whores and putting them cheaply to work by criminalizing them as sexual deviant chattel-vermin!

This brings us to lycanthropes, aka shapeshifter demons (often into stigma animals, but arguably fungi and plants, too; re: the xenomorph) that are often called “furries,” nowadays. Though furries—along with chimeras and sentient animals—are not historically prone to criminal behaviors, they are criminalized, alienized and fetishized for being sexually “demonic” in association with a drug-like or alien perception of the world around them; i.e., conflated with bestiality and general depravity from damaged, dangerous minds that may as well be on drugs.

On some level, then, the ableism and abjection of furries and their erotic animalization is symbolic of settler-colonial fears tied to non-European societies and organizations of labor/bio-power beyond capital; i.e., nature as black taking on a variety of meanings in overlapping persecution networks and language, thus interpretation and application of said captive fantasies; e.g., through the myth of the black male rapist as not only “one of most dangerous and prevalent narratives in American history” (sidhu-s82’s “The Myth of the Black Rapist,” 2021) but something connected to America and Capitalism

In the U.S. and other capitalist countries, rape laws were originally framed for the protection of men of the upper classes, whose women ran the risk of being assaulted. What happens to working class women has always been of little concern to the courts. As a result, appalling few rapists have ever been prosecuted—appalling few, that is, if black men are exempted from consideration. While the rapists of working-class women have so rarely been brought to justice, the rape charge as been indiscriminately aimed at black men, the guilty and innocent alike (source: Angela Davis’ “Rape, Racism and the Capitalist Setting,” 1978).

that endures into the present despite rape statistically being an intraracial crime (the kernel of truth to rape myths being criminogenic, thus manufactured in their origins; i.e., as tied to capital and the state as police bodies for the elite).

Indeed, according to the National Alliance to End Sexual Violence:

Popular media in [America] continue[s] to perpetuate racial stereotypes, particularly about women of color. Portraying black women and Latinas as promiscuous, American Indian and Asian women as submissive, and all women of color as inferior legitimates their sexual abuse. Portraying men of color as sexually voracious and preying on innocent white women reinforces a cultural obsession with black-on-white stranger rape, at the expense of the vastly more common intra-racial acquaintance rape (source: “Racism and Rape,” 2017).

The problematic male myths outlined above poetically collide with the spurious argument of women of color as savage and promiscuous, but also acts of dark magic further distanced from the West than white Pagans are:

(exhibit 52e1: Artist, left: NgArt7; top-right: Frank Frazetta; mid-right: Mati Klarwein; bottom-to-mid-left: F.B.W.; bottom-right: Aliya Will. The rape of white women by black men/monstrous-feminine runs rampant throughout nearly all of Frazetta’s work [carried over from the colonial oppression in Ron Howard’s Conan novels]. The black agent, apart from being seen as a rapist of white women, is reduced to a “brave”—a guardian/warrior of the village and the women, who have been reduced to stereotypes, themselves: the voodoo priest, witch doctor or sexually deviant, “hungry” woman of color as a temptress of white men, the latter fantasizing about, pardon the expression, “jungle fever” [even in tamer variants not linked to a stereotypically “wild setting”; e.g., Aliya Will’s 2B cosplay]. The psychedelic components of this have survived as a visual trend well into the present; e.g., NgArt7 riffing on Klarwein’s cover art for Miles Davis’ famously confusing Bitches Brew, 1970.)

Of course, visually white Indigenous people exist, as do non-white functioning people who aren’t ethnically Indigenous—with Bay being Māori but visually appearing “white” in the eyes of non-white “shadist” practitioners, and me being ethnically half-Dutch/quarter-Hungarian and leftover Mayflower Puritan mutt, but identifying as non-white insofar as I am a practicing Pagan/Satanist sex worker and witch determined to end capital for all the dead generations into living ones. Bay and I are united in this aim, thunder buddies for life! “Fuckin’ right!”

(artists: Bay and Persephone van der Waard)

Yet, these phobias are largely sensationalized through current scapegoats/token cops that remain composed of many different ethnicities, genders and/or religions, theatres, etc, in the material world; i.e., fear towards these persons coming from a warped, abject understanding of what furries even are; re: nature is other/monstrous-feminine alien to pimp and rape for profit out of revenge against the colonized by the colonizers during inheritance anxiety inside the Imperial Core (what Doctor Robotnik calls “the Death Egg” in Sonic 2, 1992); e.g., Paradise/Greenhill Zone something to defend from Indigenous Peoples dressed up as evil Nazi scientists (echoes of Operation Paperclip), which Communist furries have to reclaim from Nazi DARVO/obscurantist scapegoats, and fascist/white moderate wolves and foxes (re: Malcom X), at large!

(exhibit 52e2: Source: Eric Killela’s “Does the Furry Community Have a Nazi Problem?” 2017—the same year TERFs began to emerge, post-Gamergate, assimilating in response to fascism rising on the global stage; i.e., the liminal hauntology of war historically-materially yields tokenism and strange bedfellows.)

The Ark is a bit crowded, then, but we cannot simply reject nature, for then we abandon it to the current “stewards” preying on it/our communities; i.e., through monomythic neoliberalism (re: Sonic descending into a “bad future” to prevent the apocalypse, Terminator-style)—one whose omnipresent Capitalist Realism and bad-faith environmental “activism” we subvert on the Aegis during Promethean and Faustian subversions of said dogma: the animal sluts of the world, punching up from their kennels—fighting not just for the preservation of nature already owned/privatized by Whitey/tokens (as Sonic canonically does), but for land back. Doing so requires demasking the cop as a furry like Sonic (actual Sonic, but also Bunny from The First Descendants, exhibit 56a1a1); i.e., while still loving nature ourselves (as Blxxd Bunny and Nyx do, but also Pippy Longstocking …and the actress who played her in the ’80s straight-to-VHS movie, said actress making a sex tape and reclaiming it from her ex formerly releasing it as revenge porn, exhibit 56a1a2).

Stemming from non-Western, non-Christian ways of life that strive hauntologically to reharmonize with nature (which Indigenous cultures didn’t always do; re: treaties with the White Man), the anthropomorphic counterculture tradition suggested above conveys an idealized animal representation the West has since abjected (unable to tokenize furries as easily as Amazons, for example): a “totem” animal for humans and nature as connected through the spirit of demonic creativity and kinship, hence dark xenophilia tied to nature as whore!

Being a kind of demon, then, furries are similar to other magic totem groups. Like witches, they’re an out-group. This can be seen in how they transform/present as egregores—peacefully “wearing” the skins of animals to relate to nature versus harvesting the skins for profit/status; e.g., berserks; i.e., exploiting nature and using the skin as a disguise to perform various crimes the state invents, during undercover police work (more on this in Volume Three; re: witch cops/vigilantism).

From Disney’s own prince/princess offshoots—or Sega’s skater punk gentrification and decay of said punk with Sonic—false rebellions are never rebellions, but haunt and plague said rebellions in duality (and vice versa). Similar to canonical demons and witches, then, animalistic demons and monsters are universally regarded as sexual deviants/degenerates who must be collectively punished under broad, vague (fascist) legislation pimping anthropomorphic sex; i.e., said sexuality (and public nudism) tied to nature as monstrous-feminine. In turn, these laws are meant to be selectively applied, thereby used in bad faith to attack conservative scapegoats tied to common conservative phobias, fetishes and double standards; i.e., focus points for hate groups to levy a bias against, namely “in defense” of women, children and moral decency through moral panics targeting trans people as “radical groomers” (and linked to other marginalized groups less politically unwise to attack mask-off, like Indigenous Peoples).

We’ll examine this tactic far more in Volume Three. For now, merely keep in mind that such accusations don’t tend to match up with the data, with

• most forms of child sexual abuse happening from heterosexual persons (Zero Abuse Project, 2023)
• most violent crimes/rapes being committed by men against women (Cal Poly / Humboldt’s “Sexualized Violence Statistics”)
• most domestic rapes and murders/murder-suicides happening from one’s intimate partner (the NCADV’s “Facts about Domestic Violence and Physical Abuse,” 2015)
• a self-reported, 40% climb being attributed to domestic abuse cases involving police officers abusing their own families (National Center for Women & Policing’s “Police Family Violence Fact Sheet, 2013), who go on to underreport rapes in general—re: the Marshall Project

Nevertheless, lycanthropy the accusation can be attributed to canonical, propagandized sex crimes for centuries; i.e., since at least Monarchy of Demons and Faustus, the complicit cryptonymy process reaching out of the Early Modern period; e.g., Count Ferdinand from John Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi eventually going insane from lycanthropy and committing various acts of murder (and this being after he wanted to marry and rape his own sister):

(source: Stéphanie Mercier’s “The Duchess of Malfi, John Webster, Directed by Dominic Dromgoole,” 2014)

In keeping with Gothic and Matthew Lewis, as much as Milton, such stories are as much critiques of systems that will deny their own hand in things and push them off onto their victims; re: exploitation and liberation exist in the same place, on and off the same stages in the larger mode of discourse—what Mercier herself calls “sharing space” (an idea basically synonymous with Radcliffean closed space and Bakhtin’s chronotope/castle-narrative I’ve embellished on, using danger discos):

The visual effects are audibly accompanied by the rounded sound of the cello, the three different types of lute and the harpsichord, which requires regular re-tuning as if to underline the necessary reunion of the otherwise disrespectful handling of traditional neo-classical unities of time and space, or bodily and spiritual orthodoxy, throughout Webster’s plot.

The play’s script immediately points to this multifaceted doubling as the widowed Duchess, her twin brother Ferdinand (David Dawson) and the older sibling Cardinal (James Garnon) metaphorically become “three fair medals, / Cast in one figure, of so different temper” (I.1.179-180). The comparison, apart from underlining the different personalities of the characters, establishes a diptych of corporality and materiality that will underscore the action and hint to how the Duchess’ passionate marriage with her adoring, yet socially inferior, steward will inevitably encourage disaster. With similar numismatic imagery, the Cardinal offers Bosola (Sean Gilder) gold coins to become a spy (and murderer) at the Duchess’ court whilst the actors eat symbolically charged strawberries off circle-shaped pewter platters in a hint to the curvaceous nature of the Duchess’ soon-to-be rounded pregnant belly. In fact, the tragic nature of what should be happy events to come is also pointed to by the premonitory dagger on stage; an appropriate metaphor for the particular “variety of courtship” (I.1.329) that characterizes the play and that is immediately transferred to the quill that the steward, Antonio (Alex Waldmann), uses to write what turns out to be the Duchess’ gloomily foreboding will. This, before she presumptuously oversteps moral, legal and social boundaries (here signified by the fact that the two are initially separated by the flaming lowered candles while they court) and gives him her wedding ring as a token of betrothal – yet another circle, and, more importantly, a pointer to the rope that will finally encircle her neck (ibid.).

Except while the West fabricates and testifies to its own abuses—doing so in cryptonymic ways that perjure domestic decay through historical-material doubles and nostalgia from Shakespeare and Webster onwards (re: Nicolas Abraham and Maria Torok’s 1986 The Wolf Man’s Magic Word: A Cryptonymy alluding to Webster and Renaissance appropriations of the skin-changer legend in Western canon)—the undeniable fact remains: most furries aren’t sex criminals any more than most queer people, non-Christians, non-white people, and/or demons are; they’re a fandom that, according to Fur Science, runs countercurrent to “the very stereotypes that portray [them] as being simply a fetish, the most-cited drawn to the furry fandom is its sense of belongingness, recreation, and escape from the mundaneness of daily life, as well as its appreciation of anthropomorphic art and stories” (source: “What’s a Furry?” 2022). What a piece of work is furry! The paragon of animals pimped by Hamlet-style dickheads!

Furthermore, this explanation isn’t baseless or unfounded/apophenic conspiracy to dismiss; it’s academically grounded, produced by professors of furries (who aren’t always furries themselves); i.e., describing their target of research as a fandom after years of prolonged study in good faith. The aim in doing so, then, is to dispel many harmful myths, not confirm and exploit them as they normally occur under capital during witch-hunt DARVO obscurantism pimping nature; i.e., as Radcliffean fuckwads like Turkey Tom do (and who apologize for fascism by pinning degeneracy on fascist victims they can conflate with fascism as “degenerate”; re: cops and victims, pimps and whores).

This includes, for example, standing together in false-rebellious solidarity against “soy boy” leftists they—as loud-and-proud centrists (and those like them, such as Brandon Buckingham, oompaville, ShoeOnHead, and SomeOrdinaryGamers, etc)—can unite in bad faith against criticism they universally decry as “slander” and “woke”; i.e., dogwhistling while vice signaling and acting morally outraged/clutching their pearls to defend one of their own/someone ostensibly adjacent to them in the Free Marketplace of Ideas (Capitalism): something they can defend from outsiders who threaten to break Capitalist Realism with their “Cultural Marxism” (or whatever the reactive-abuse antagonizers want to call it, but that’s what they’re doing with these kinds of pogroms, furry or not).

And not to get too off track, but basically In Praise of Shadows went to battle with his guns half-loaded; i.e., kicking the hornet’s nest and getting dogpiled by a bunch of people defending Wendigoon from said “assailant,” treating the former like the Whore of Babylon and the latter like Jesus Christ:

Answer: This was asked a few days ago, and at the time I had no idea who IPoS even was, but recently, Mutahar put out a decent video about the situation.

From what I can tell, the guy’s catching flak for making wildly broad strokes such as “He’s from Appalachia so he’s a racist” and stuff like that. Given that Wendigoon is a fairly popular personality on YouTube, this likely aggravated his fan base and led to something of a proxy war in the two channel’s comments, subreddits, forums, etc.

He also apparently took some shots at various other people, including SomeOrdinaryGamers, which is probably why the video above was made in the first place (source: DoubleClickMouse, r/OutOfTheLoop’s “What is going on with In Praise of Shadows and Wendigoon?” 2024).

I can’t seem to find the original video, but in a nutshell, there’s a lot of weird virtue/vice signaling and fascist pipeline apologetics (which lubricate and reinforce said pipeline while capitalizing on it during the cryptonymy/abjection processes); e.g., ” IPOS lost me as a fan. I am a literal Catholic Monarchist from Appalachia and I despise racism. He has insulted me and every, White, Black, Latino, Asian and Native person in the entire region” (ibid.). Okay, then.

More to the point, there seems to be a whole lot of people who aren’t oppressed acting oppressed in bad faith against dark xenophilia; i.e., allergic to criticism to such a degree that they make a meal out/ton of hay with it, grifting and bullying their critics to silence in typical “debate bro” fashion (and token fashion; re: ShoeOnHead having a lot of Nazi friends, the shameless bitch). There’s a lot of chaff during the dust-up and that’s the point; i.e., make noise to distract from the obvious: that they hide and feed in plain sight during a complicit cryptonymy process furthering abjection on stages we must survive inside; i.e., from bad-faith cunts like Turkey Tom and his ilk’s dogmatic “edutainment.” It worked for Obama and Joe Biden; i.e., a cop is a cop and doesn’t prevent crime, American Liberal “justice” being slavery-in-disguise hiding in plain sight (note the noose, echoing Jim Crow and Lost Cause behind a literal Monster commercial by two white straight Nazi assholes: America, the Land of the Free and home of the Fascist, left):

(artist: Rusty Cage, 2022)

To it, they’re all Nazis because they’re in bed with Nazis (and love guns/being tough on crime/acting superior to everyone else while downplaying their own privilege and America’s settler-colonial design, below); i.e., working from the same compounds as militias to push out from, home-base-style, and attack the enemies of the state/the Protestant ethic and Cartesian thought; re: the state is straight and anyone who challenges them is a sicko Commie “fur faggot” these “maverick hunters” will happily poach, therefore making human, animal and environmental rights/dark xenophilia “up for debate”: a lynch mob kettling “useless eaters” (the former massive cowards who hide behind privilege and fear their latter chosen prey fighting back, below)!

(exhibit 52e3: Source: right, Instagram: Tombutdark; left: Volume One’s exhibit 10c2:

Artist, top-left: Undead Clown; top-right: Defiant Drills, commissioned by Barnowlren; bottom-left and -right: Bay’s fursona, by Tofu Froth and Buns Like a Truck. Gothic-Communist struggle is defined in its poetic context—of whom commissioned the artist and why— as something that is challenged during paratextual dialogs concerning the pieces and what they stand for or rather, what they should stand for. For example, in posting his piece, “hit them nazi punks” in 2020, Undead Clown writes,

largely inspired by CRASHprez’s song “Fascists Don’t Cry” which is a really great song lmao

but ya imma knock ya out if you come up to me spoutin white supremacist or

transphobic shit

human rights aint up for debate [source].

Bigots are cops and hate being reminded of that; i.e., while they play dress up in bad-faith cryptonymy versus our own revolutionary deceptions punching up against capital from parallel societies: exposing them as cowards on and offstage, upon the Aegis. We lie and perform to protect ourselves/the natural world; they lie to pimp and rape such things for the establishment. Gross, sad fuckers, you’re traitors and rapists stuck in Plato’s cave! Your time will come!)

By bullet or not, such holocausts routinely happen by the usual suspects perpetrating them; i.e., anyone colonizing these spaces (token or not) during the Imperial Boomerang as a brutal historical-material cycle—one reaving the usual prisons by the usual ladders of preferential mistreatment/overlapping persecution “joy division” language that cops and vigilantes selectively and collectively groom/mark their prey with! Anyone who breaks the illusion, mid-purge, is the enemy of those most fragile, privileged and guilty of doing crimes for the state against the vulnerable and the marginalized; re: on capital’s frontiers, thus inside its states of exception: controlled opposition policing uncontrolled opposition, pimps (and token whores) policing unruly whores through all labor/nature as sexualized and alienized by the state and its mechanisms—doing so to serve profit (thus rape) by punching and killing Medusa. Bursting their bubble is our revenge; i.e., by exposing and shaming them while always taking away their toys: us.

As we keep exploring furries—i.e., as things to investigate as/with—recall that white moderates are Nazis with more masks (concentric veneers being something we’ll return to, in Volume Three); e.g., Turkey Tom effectively operating as an open-to-cloaked racist in ways people more broadly forget because of the confusion outlined above (re: D’Angelo Wallace’s “I’m Not Sorry” calling Turkey Tom out, back in 2019). It’s a war of endurance, our darkness visible versus theirs during a, suitably enough, Miltonic war of angels and demons, but also furries and dark xenophilia. Nazis and Communists occupy that self-same space, too!

To it, furries are scapegoats in ways that play out very similarly to the events described above; i.e., pimp and police them in ways white moderates (and their reactionary brethren) love to do: a harvest to dehumanize and treat strictly as criminal and nothing else; re: Turkey Tom’s “degenerate” series being a massive dogwhistle several steps removed from him and his own racism. But function betrays any aesthetic; i.e., if someone has Nazi friends in their orbit/wheelhouse, they’re a Nazi by association because that’s how fascism works.

Every witch hunt has a hunter to either apologize for or upend by viewing the oppressed in a better light. To it, associate professor Sharon E. Roberts tries to undo these dangerous (and deliberate, profitable) misconceptions about “furry panic” by writing in “What are ‘furries?'”:

Furries are people who have an interest in anthropomorphism, which specifically refers to giving human characteristics to animals. In its most distilled form, furries are a group of people who formed a community—or fandom—because they have a common interest in anthropomorphic media, friendships and social inclusion. […] Furries don’t identify as animals; they identify with animals. In the same way that cosplayers typically don’t believe they are actually Spiderman, furries don’t think they are their fursonas (source).

In other words, furries are not an illness or inherently criminal institution; they’re a small minority group (about 1.4-2.8 million, worldwide, International Furry Survey: Summer 2011); i.e., like the queer community is, thus targeted by reactionaries and white moderates/tokens during moral panics made to defend capital as always in crisis (to enforce and motivate profit through manufactured scarcity).

So just as LGBTQ people tend to receive violence (UCLA William Institute, 2021), furries are far more likely to have crimes committed against them by hate groups (whose own activities either go unreported or are protected by those in power acting in bad faith; re: Turkey Tom); i.e., are more likey to experience police abuse than they are to actually “do a crime,” themselves (“Furry-tales: The organized hate effort against LGBTQ+ young people,” 2021).

Note, I do put “do a crime” in quotes because furries, and those associated with them to varying degrees—such as sex workers and Indigenous Peoples more broadly—are criminalized for existing as sex workers and Indigenous people do, but receive additional confusion surrounding them due to being animals in hauntological ways; i.e., that are harder for the modern West to unironically fetishize/tokenize. In the tradition of stigma animals, werewolves are shot, most animals are hunted, most hunters are men, and most murders and violent sexual crimes are committed by men (which extends to token men trying to assimilate by eating the dead; e.g., Henry Emory from Them [2021] trying to choke down the homemade pie at the dinner table, and blend in at work: with his aggressively white supremacist co-workers not welcoming assimilative co-habitation).

(exhibit 52f: Artist, top-left: Frank Frazetta; top-right: Ichan-desu; bottom: Wlop. Even in classic pin-up art, the presence of nudity and animals doesn’t traditionally denote a sexual connection between the human and animal[s] portrayed. Rather, the effect is closer to public nudism and simply being naked around animals to make a larger symbolic point. Another role the animal plays, then, is a protector for the oft-naked woman; i.e., as a totem that ascribes qualities onto the woman as a kind of “panther lady” with an increased, feral sexuality tied to nature: a desire to fight back against her rapists trying to possess her/project their fetishizes onto her [or any preyed-upon gender].)

Another way of looking at this problem, then, is to see the fate of animals/nature under Capitalism as inherently divisive and unstable; i.e., the “native” party (the colonizer) seeing their inherited settler-colonial home as invaded by the ghost of the counterfeit, which it scapegoats instead of attacking Capitalism as a structure. In other words, Capitalism causes pain as an abject byproduct of ongoing exploitation; i.e., as half-real, meaning between fiction and non-fiction. The Gothic imagination, then, is like the T-800, who coldly states, “I sense injuries; the data could be called pain.” Except the better developed these pathways are, the better our ability to cry out in pain, thus issue warnings regarding oncoming/ongoing disasters against bad-faith impostors. We furries will find ways not just to relieve stress and pain, then, but prevent them in the future. In response to a perceived “white genocide,” a Cartesian man or Radcliffean Gothicist/token will summon and dismiss these anxieties, exorcising them from the home as divorced from nature/nature’s revenge (which includes flashing the pimp on the Aegis, below): “We didn’t destroy ourselves; you attacked us!”

The problem is, Capitalism is historically-materially unstable and cheapens nature to push for infinite growth within a finite web of life. Per state shift, it will not survive its own disasters, but decay into older hauntological (token) models of brutality like fascism, including eco-fascism. Those arrangements of capital and the state’s enforcers historically-materially offer up linguo-material byproducts serving as holistic data; i.e., cryptomimetically suggesting a decaying society and nation, but also Humanity and the planet as sick of capital that eventually to leads to total mass extinction: an unmaking or reversal of Genesis not unlike Matthew Lewis’ ending to The Monk, over two centuries ago; re: self-deception as self-authored and carried out.

To it, I’d rather fight for our survival as open stewards of nature weaponizing dark xenophilia in our favor, than speak little in relative comfort; i.e., while genocide leads to our destruction through a land without food, but also full of people who cannot eat (making the colonialists asking of the alien “what did you eat?[4]” a tragic refrain; re: men cannot eat gold, but also starve: when Indigenous Peoples won’t give them food to enable colonization, effectively disabling it).

Divorced from nature, Whitey cannot see what ails their own dying colony. Instead, they burn their own house down and kill things that “do not belong”; re: anything they monomythically and cartographically describe as “degenerate” or “monstrous-feminine,” hence treat differently than them/the status quo as morally thus ethnocentrically superior to their routine victims; e.g., a witch to burn, but also a whore to pimp and a pet to own while acting as the oppressed wearing witch-cop costumes (and ironically doomsaying their own slaughter when the state dies). Chattel is chattel, and pedophiles and zoophiles go hand-in-hand with unironic porn addicts sharing the same poetic space as furry actors and art:

(artist: Lumidetsu)

Furries, then, are stewards of nature preyed upon by those taught to own and dominate nature-as-alien/monstrous-feminine, colonizing furry porn in ways seen as strange because the undercover costume is essentially a compound clown/fetish outfit; i.e., it sticks out like a sore thumb; e.g., Four Lions taking the idea and pearl-clutching during the War on Terror as something to apologize for with British snark:

(source: Time Out 2010 review)

To that, our usual suspects remain white cis-het chuds/weird canonical nerds and token sell-outs, who try doggedly to operate as undercover stewards of profit canonizing false colonial binaries like “male/female” (steer clear of anyone who says “a male” or “a female” as a noun phrase; e.g., “I dated a female”). Their education and its distinctions/categories’ harmful sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll (what they poetically endorse) are bad; i.e., a poison for their brains that fuels the metastasizing of Capitalism—its cancer-like growth—as something to guard to their own eventual downfall.

Worse, they will push it onto us, meaning “we” (a broader intersectional collective that includes furries) must challenge that by guarding nature but also the means of communing with nature through the above Gothic poetics; i.e., the “furry” as a revolutionary function, during acid Communism as, itself, dualistic in practice (which we’ll get to at the end of part two); re: our land, drugs, and sex education (collars, animal monsters, breeding displays, etc), but also whatever leaps to mind when using them, provided its revolutionary function is constant during ludo-Gothic BDSM’s cryptonymy process reversing abjection using dark xenophilia. If workers refuse to assimilate, tokenization and colonization become impossible:

(artist: Lumidetsu)

Think of it as a praxial “stress test,” then, one whose revolutionary cryptonymy—when exposed to our potential allies (thus potential enemies); i.e., “flashing those with power” as a game to enjoy as we do it, above—make the latter either want to hug or kill us (after embarrassingly shitting their pants, of course). In terms of re(t)con, establishing either is vital to our survival and the overall war effort as fighting for our lives; i.e., our right to exist versus extinction being the outcome of Capitalism censoring us and our education to enrich the elite and their proponents; re: Turkey Tom, Andrew Tate, and the Critical Drinker, etc, showing that anything not against the state is with it, including all manner of radical/reactionary and moderate forms bearing a white, cis-het male face (or tokens wearing such masks, the assimilator and assimilated inverting the mask’s flow of assimilation: the colonizer playing the white Indian, and the assimilator playing the actual Indian who thinks they’ve “made it,” but have only killed the Indian to “save” the [wo]man for last: the casino brothelized under canonical duress).

To this, Cartesian dualism more broadly treats anything “of nature” as “outside” of civilization and nature, thus meriting exploitation or reformation/conversion of “bad” nature to “good.: The colonial rhetoric is of course dressed up in the rhetoric of liberty and equality to sound as good as possible (re: Zinn), but is also supplied primarily to the enforcers of the American middle class since Bacon’s Rebellion: cis-het white men, followed by cis-het white women, then other Russian-doll dog-eat-dog/big-fish-eat-little-fish pecking orders.

As such, it’s precisely this group and its assimilative offshoots (the capitalist Numinous) that hatefully (with bias[5]) declare all demons anathema, including totems, chimeras and sentient animals more commonly portrayed as furries or as magical beings associated with furries; re: witches by the same modular persecution logic and arbitrary double standards, Communist variants muddied vis-à-vis state DARVO and obscurantism (re: Nazi werewolves are historically a thing Hitler actually used towards the end of the war, as I discuss in “‘Hell Hath No Fury’; or, Soulblighter’s Token Gay Nazi Revenge“): our uphill push towards the city of the gods and our own Communist Numinous (the Medusa) being something to break into and reclaim from Puritanical forces and capital, whose Omelas we seek to dismantle as Trojan whores do (on the prow of a slutty Ark):

(artist: Lumidetsu)

In effect, the elite outlaw iconoclastic media that attempts to depict these groups in a positive light; i.e., showing such entities as capable of giving and receiving empathetic treatment (above), thus deserving of basic human rights (the same rights afforded to animals and the environment, to be fair). The state’s war on nature and sex education is one on Pagan and dark xenophilia; i.e., making for a liminal proposition—one where many individuals grapple with the call of the wild and their own genders, identities and sexualities: as either in the closet already or being forced back inside such kennels through state courtship pimping puppy courtesans to monopolize chattelized sex work (thus furries and dark xenophilia)!

Regarding such liminality as anisotropically progress-versus-regression, if Ann Radcliffe was an imperfect detective out of the past—one whose own relative attempts at grasping beyond her reach live on in her books (and offshoots of said books)—the same concept applies to trans, intersex, enby and/or ace detectives today reaching for equality towards Communism; i.e., in demonic language that Radcliffe would never have dared touch: on the edge of the civilized world, through a transformative experience decidedly more genderqueer than she was and, by extension, Matthew Lewis as some to embrace and make even gayer than he arguably was (some big shoes to fill, but we fags love “filling” things)! Necessity is the mother of invention (e.g., Small Goblin’s “Cantina Theme” played by a pencil and a girl with too much time on her hands,” 2018); never let them take credit for your work, thus colonize it and you with said theft!

(source: YesterWeird’s The Monk by Matthew Lewis, Chapters 6 & 7,” 2015)

This brings us to andro-/gynodiversity as something I want to unpack/denude as dark xenophilia; i.e., relative to a furry counterculture and general stewardship of nature; re: through Lewis’ The Monk, but also my past work with Cuwu combined with Dario Argento’s “Pelts,” Erika Eleniak, and furry porn (there’s an odd combo) loaded with a bit of worker/nature revenge: as something to protect with iconoclastic art from the usual betrayals. So do we pee out such moral superiority/outrage (as something to perform; e.g., from Turkey Tom to Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa): a waste to void that, unto itself, feels rather good (and exits the body similar to cum as something the Catholics might sing about as “waste,” yet actually comes out of the usual Protestant gentry playing at paupers suitably making fun of the colonized yet thinking they’re Jonathan Swift; re: Monty Python courting Protestant spectres of Cromwell having genocided the Irish as racially inferior to English false rebellions: The Life of Brian serving anti-Catholic dogma furthering the Protestant ethic out of the 18th and 19th centuries into a new neoliberal period’s Second Gilded Age).

This includes feminism being a classic site of divide-and-conquer that, operating through the usual strange appetites garnered under capital, has tokenized from decaying gentries; re: from white women being chattelized as property (under city-states) far longer than people of color have been—a trend that would aggressively target the latter by the former under Capitalism from Radcliffe onwards; re: gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss—who then collectively go on to police the bodies of anyone not “of them”: their own, but also a “pussy phrenology/eugenics” that can be measured and analyzed during the usual exclusionary measures that tokens will embarrassingly cater to (forgetting how few people even have that “Vitruvian pussy” to begin with, let alone the entire monomorphic gradient of trans, intersex and non-binary people). What they canonize, we camp on the same Aegis:

(exhibit 52g1a: Artist: Victoria, directed by Persephone van der Waard. The canonical historical purpose of such exhibits was to display and dehumanize the freak; our reclamations give us gradient misfits a chance to exhibit, and voyeuristically peer in at, willing subjects of study we can play with/out, for a change! Victoria, for instance, is a rape survivor and intersex person, and one I—as a trans rape survivor and researcher seeking to heal from rape with others; i.e., doing so by speaking out in a diverse polity thereof—orchestrated a time to shoot and play with Vic. We both were eager to learn together and give each other power as demons do; i.e., through crossdress and undress alike, mid-exchange [re: Matilda’s concentric veneers used to expose Ambrosio‘s bullshit, thus that story’s evil prioress tied to capital: “Antonia will perceive her dishonor, but be unaware of her ravisher” bleeding into the violator being misled by promises of future rape the demonic queer shapeshifter uses to hoist the closeted rapist on his own petard; i.e., during a Satanic Panic of older days, The Monk operating essentially as vintage torture porn, but anisotropically directing queer anger at the status quo in ways they self-report through their outrage; e.g., Coleridge protesting The Monk by colonizing Gothic as straight]!

In doing so, I had Vic pose in ways that stressed their body as intersex/pear-shaped; e.g., their “hip dips” reminding me of Cuwu’s [above, middle] but also Vic storing fat differently than typically AMAB assignments do under state scalpels—a reality their own literal intersex scars testify to, and which our ludo-Gothic BDSM’s instruction and invigilation attest to: as something to resist state abuse while funding and finding our power onstage and off!)

Over time, women’s studies have gradually become decolonized from token cis-het white women (e.g., Radcliffe, Dacre, the Brontë sisters, Carter, Beauvoir, Moers, and Creed, etc); i.e., by nakedly sex-positive queer voices after Lewis (e.g., Cuwu, Victoria and me from Judith Butler and Michael Warner unto us). As such, it is now known more broadly as “gender studies” or “intersectional feminism”; but the performative and praxial liminality of doing so likewise has iconoclasts learning from older activist movements; i.e., in order to challenge authorities within current manifestations of those former groups. That’s what ludo-Gothic BDSM boils down to (as I coined it, anyways); re: camping the canon, putting “rape” in quotes to hug the alien sex worker while outing the pimp as perfidious towards the whore.

Ergo, revisiting the errors of the token past and tackling their regressions includes competing with male and female academics, but also cis-queer/token academics, public intellectuals and celebrities (tokenism knows no bounds); i.e., to allow GNC persons to say things about the same material world as it pertains to all oppressed groups under idiosyncratic axes of oppression/privilege, but also past, monstrous versions of ourselves; re: those that include the entire totemic demon class: as something that is routinely hunted by members of our own groups playing the conquistador’s pet, hence hauntological Roman fool!

Such testimony happens with our diversely inclusive bodies during the pedagogy of the oppressed; i.e., as something to solidarize and study unto itself. When dealing with bad(-faith) dragons, we good(-faith) dragons must expose their weak points while paradoxically showcasing our own vulnerability in ways that resist exploitation, on the Aegis; re: not just Victoria, but Cuwu as someone whose forbidden-fruit “apple” and its subsequent temptation I have revisited many times: a little shapeshifting dragon who fed on me a bit, but which I didn’t always dislike!

(exhibit 52g1b: Artists: Cuwu and Persephone van der Waard. So who’s the Devil and who’s Faust, again? So did Cuwu and I make off like bandits in more ways than one—booty bandits! Making mischief is only blackmail through context, Cuwu the Matilda of a 21st century whore taking me out of the closet/to the ball game that they might turn me gayer than I ever dared dream, up until that point. “Let my hand see not the wound it makes” became sex with the lights on cushion-pushing towards a fearsome-fun ostinato of our bringer of class war unto others of different oppressions also rising to the challenge; re: fucking to metal, the Medusa something you cannot kill!

It was Jack Black’s 2001 “Fuck Her Gently,” in our case, but the idea is the same across all rock ‘n roll spinoffs; e.g., with Holst and Venture Bros. or anyone else predating/proceeding such cases, mid-crisis [Star Wars leaps to mind, or Paradise Lost and Frankenstein wiggling sinfully on the same holistic timeline]! “We are so back, my dude[s]!” Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow, furries and acid Communism are transformative but also cryptonymic, speaking cryptomimetically to Shakespeare’s petty pace: “a tale full of sound and fury,” signifying whatever meaning we give it!

Would it surprise you very much to know, then, that Cuwu and I both practiced, each of us gay little furry idiots? Furries are shadow warriors, “the beasts under your bed, in your closet, in your head“; i.e., to “enter sandman,” Metallica style—administering “dreams of [class] war, dreams of dragon’s fi-re [those dactyls] and of things that will bite”; re: during the dialectic of shelter and the alien as dualistically reclaimed by us. We demand HUGS, and give as good as we get! Fucking is metal, but as Beethoven did; re: by shaking his fist [or our asses] at Napoleon!

[artists: Cuwu and Persephone van der Waard]

But also, look on us neurodivergent-if-not-terribly-morphologically-diverse [that being said, my Cuban friend Jackie did say about Cuwu’s ass, “Damn! They have a nice ass for a white girl!”]: showing you our asses while having fun in duality versus those who would pimp us having divorced themselves from such things! The Judas is always lonesome.

So did we GNC cuties mock such unironic weirdos while weird attracts weird, Cuwu and I having fun/acting bad while looking good[6]; i.e., as something to pass along for others to learn from: to make love like you make rebellion, babes—wildly [Cuwu needing lots of “Scooby snacks,” making a meal out of a dog bone]! They were always high, but able to negotiate just fine by navigating their illness with their Marxist-Leninist way of life! I call chicanery!

“That’s no moon; it’s a space station!” Whatever moon-sized horrors the state throws at us, like Jadis did, we revolutionaries can turn back on Aegises of our own: “Turtle power!” The Numinous is dualistic and stacks rebels upon rebels; i.e., our stacked fortresses-in-the-flesh going all the way down/mise-en-abyme! “FIRE EVERYTHING!” [calm yourself, Chaucer]:

[model and photographer, top-right: Cuwu and Persephone van der Waard; the other artists and their butts (from top-right, left-to-right, downwards): Sinead, Harmony Corrupted, Angel, Nyx, Ebonnyy, Crow (a different Crow than my Crow), Angel Witch, and Mugiwara]

In short, there has to be something to encapsulate and suggest the enormity of the state and scale of things at stake; i.e., it’s like Braveheart but not fascist/culturally appropriative: “This is our army—to join it, you give homage!” / “I give homage to [Gothic (gay-anarcho) Communism]! And if this is your army, why does it go?” / “We didn’t come here to fight for them!”

So fight for yourselves and each other beyond state boundaries and hauntologies; break them, thus capital and its dreadful Realism; i.e., on your stupidly awesome Aegises that—united and strong as a phalanx of cuties can only be [above]—make the witch hunters tuck tail and run! Solidarity and mutual consent are poison to them because they cannot stand for nature as monstrous-feminine set free: “back to the wild frontier” as something they can’t ignore; i.e., during our holistic collective’s Song of Infinity farting in our enemies faces [or fucking while they watch—same difference]! 

I remember the old country
They call the emerald land.
And I remember my home town
Before the wars began.

Now we’re riding on a sea of rage,
The victims you have seen.
You’ll never hear them sing again
The Forty Shades Of Green.

[…] I remember my city streets
Before the soldiers came.
Now armoured cars and barricades
Remind us of our shame.

We are drowning in a sea of blood,
The victims you have seen.
Never more to sing again
The Forty Shades Of Green [source: Genius]. 

The old folk heroes speak to current struggles co-opted and abused by white moderates and other class traitors; re: Clare—the white female protagonist from The Nightingale [2018]—bristling furiously when called “English” by the film’s Aboriginal protagonist: “I’m not English, I’m Ireland! [switching to Gaelic] To the devil’s house with all English people, every mother’s son of them! May the pox disfigure them! May the plague consume them! Long live Ireland!” [source]. Fuckin’ oath, sis’! Long live Ireland, and all oppressed peoples united as one against tyranny’s bad actors! Kill ’em with kindness towards each other!

Furthermore, rape is a terror weapon as much as any weaponized disease or monstrous-feminine is; i.e., testifying as we do, through ludo-Gothic BDSM putting “rape” in quotes, makes an indelible but elusive line in the sand—one the enemy cannot cross without outing themselves as Judas colonizers taking Roman pay. “Fear the Reaper” if that reaper is the state! Death and rebirth occupy the same icons; use ’em to your advantage! Mobilize and disrupt the state apparatus [of rape and theft] using what you got and what you make: friendship and love! May yours lay their hatred and structures to waste!

[artists: Cuwu and Persephone van der Waard]

Do such things last, on the cusp of greatness? And can we always afford them to? No, but what does, state or worker? Cuwu and I had a whirlwind romance, and one that only lasted six months in life, but in death, lives on through my work honoring them; i.e., we loved a lifetime’s worth, and made plenty of demonic love on the Aegis that I—ever the dutiful invigilator and chronicler/archivist of our dark xenophilia—can now proudly pass onto you, dear readers; re:

Making fake friends trying to get by.

Nobody knows the feelings are the low and you’re trying to stay high!

Sweet Serenity, I can’t fight when the night

Comes calling me! [Black Absinthe’s “Nobody Knows,” 2024].

The fact remains, any jealous parties can tell me to “touch grass” lest I amount to fuck all; but I’ve already chased the dragon and caught a little fuck-puppy variant by the tail [and have much to show/be grateful for it]: baby’s first rebellion/cream pie [echoes of Always Sunny‘s ambiguous creampie skit from 2015 being one of their best]! And furthermore, any great deed accomplished or position worth having is worth restating during such struggles; i.e., the pain of genuine loss something to recursively process [anyone who doesn’t is a wackjob exploiter who didn’t value what they had [re: Zeuhl abandoning me at pretty much the drop of a fucking hat]. Behind every Athena, then, is a Medusa, every Medusa a rape victim/genocide, every victim a chance to refuse victimization/tokenization while still having fun! So did we, for a time, heal from our own rape! Learn from it, warts and all! Become your own bosses! Tell the usual farmers, “We are not crops to dust and reave, nor peaches to carve up like all the usual territories! We will become unruly and inedible to you, but not each other!”)

In the Gothic tradition, this eulogy is an uphill battle, especially when challenging Capitalism through sex education using animalized language that features our bodies as different from the status quo. To this, witches and totems have much in common, xenophilia-wise, and constitute a common fixture in said education; i.e., both denote a strong bond to nature as alienated from society by Cartesian dualism and its statuesque Nordic model harming anything else.

Furthermore, this ongoing struggle towards liberation from exploitation through “exploitation” can also be seen in the struggles of current-day trans people like Quinnvincible and Price, below. As people who menstruate, their reeducation of the world as straight involves what they’re teaching with: their own gynodiverse vaginas, girl-cock clitorises, body hair and associate art as belonging to them and celebrated by me for those reasons; i.e., as things effected by HRT and transition therapies, which they can teach us about; re: simply by being different and expressing said difference in a sex-positive furry lesson told in self-affirming body language (and whose “fu[r]ry rebellion” we’ll examine more, in Volume Three):

(exhibit 52g2: Model, middle: Quinnvincible, a “breedable” trans boy by themselves responding to HRT/doing puppy play with me; left: Price, pretty, trans femboy. Model and artist, far-right: Quinnvincible and Persephone van der Waard. Feel the magic and the wonder! Come to the Sabbath! Similar to neurodivergence and androdiversity as part of the same [w]hole, gynodiversity demonstrates as much by what diverges from canonical [thus eugenic, Christofascist] beauty standards; e.g., the non-heteronormative amounts of external labia and body hair owned, groomed and exhibited by people like Quinn and Price: a passage to Bang[coc]k [double sex/drug pun] taking the Midnight Express [and its Orientalist, Ayn Rand phase] out of weird canonical nerds’ hands masturbating to their own oppression as largely Red Scare nonsense[7].

Indeed, the presence of either variation can be intersex and congenital, but nowadays becomes increasing post-natal with the inclusion of gender-affirming care as something to dangle, carrot-and-stick, in front of people the state wants to tokenize. Except, trans people are reliant on this care to exist, meaning the transphobic/interphobic witch hunts waged against them manifest in direct attacks against said care; i.e., as something that will radicalize in both directions when growing disenfranchised with Black Excellence or any other token myth.

Witch hunters aren’t just overt reactionaries, then, but self-appointed “normal” people like particle physicist and practicing TERF, Sabine Hossenfelder [re: Essence of Thought’s “Sabine Hossenfelder & Trans Youth, part 1,” 2023]. Indeed, Hossenfelder’s moderacy not only contains fascist talking points [Essence of Thought, “part 2,” 2023] per the American tradition of weaponizing mad science during and after Operation Paperclip; it’s par for the course among well-established scientists in the 21st century [with many of them—like Richard Dawkins or Neal DeGrasse Tyson—being completely unafraid of the conservative grift: something we’ll explore more of in Volume Three when we examine TERFs at length].

[source: “What It’s Like Being Married to Neil deGrasse Tyson,” 2015]

In the Cartesian tradition, these STEM variants of the accommodated intellectual tone-police anyone they associate with the natural world; e.g., treating trans personalities and “furry” culture/dark xenophilia as part of said world to map out and progress through as capital does; re: as something to dominate in the interests of Capitalism and “progress,” during the cryptonymy process furthering abjection. So whereas overt TERF reactionaries deem GNC people/furries as dishonest, fiendishly taking away women’s rights, moderacy takes a more polite stance in the same bad-faith practice; either approach leads to the policing and material harming of queer people during furry panic, denying them the basic necessities of life—e.g., health care as vital towards expressing their gender expression, atypical body acceptance and culture in their own eyes, but also their culture as treating them like gods worthy of worship, love and praise, not self-hatred and shame! Furries, then, are gods to deify in a sex-positive, all-inclusive and universally liberatory disco[ourse]. Settle for nothing less!)

 

Per Medusa, but also loose extensions “of her” during selective and collective punishment, Capitalism abjects the bodies of revolutionary praxis based on old legends designed to control those who are born different inside the colonial binary. For example, vaginas and anuses are canonically demonized as monstrous, but the social-sexual code for doing so with furries (next page) treats the female body as something to shame differently than male bodies. To it, baby steps towards liberation occur according to whatever feet we have to step with as furries!

Queer persons extend this shameful logic as being “incorrect” according to their sexualities—hence genders and relative identities and performances—thus become automatically iconoclastic to heteronormative coding and dogma at large. Their non-standard, often fuzzy bodies instantly become liminal as a result; i.e., monstrous expressions of furious-and-fury transition/xenophilia developing forever towards something different than what is allowed by state pimps. The canonical whore always threatens the virgin, but has needed to sublimate since ancient times towards tokenized forms.

By extension, their anuses, vaginas, penises, excess body hair and unaverage height/weight variation, etc, become condemned wholesale; re: as things to literally dress up. Not only do queer people’s “degenerate” piercings and colored hair ruffle reactionary feathers to no end; the bigots who attack them will dictate what queer people can do with their bodies in performance art and nudist displays—in short, how they can exist as queens of the Communist Reich! It’s shameless tone-policing that less shoves the fur fag back in the closet and more puts her inside-outside the barrier as Radcliffe did: to rile up the Straights and make them pearl-clutch to surrender their wages (and their brains) during the abjection process; e.g., like the weird butler guy from Transylvania 6-5000 (1986):

It’s a dangerous game, because the rapidity of state collapse during crisis will become a “boundaries for me, right?” promise the state can make but not keep for less marginalized groups onto more privileged traitors; e.g., demanding loyalty from white straight women while trying to closet and control them/take away their trashy sex novels. God forbid, right?

To it, these lopsided mandates affect pornographic media; i.e., as highly controlled displays that can’t be expected to facilitate genocide alone, but also class, culture and race solidarity for us telling potential tokens what awaits them, should they take the pimp’s bait! No good comes from that, but we have special treats for good boys, girls and enbies of all walks! Our beauteous orbs!

We do so as GNC whores who communicate through our body language as being the very things the Straights (male or not) have fetishized for centuries; i.e., since Radcliffe’s less bigoted calculated risk devolved into Rowling or Anita Blakes’ more bigoted calculated risk: people pimp through sex, afraid of/fascinated with the whore (a female Brutus, but also Hannibal sacking Rome) and yet, can also learn through such countermeasures; e.g., “Do the rock dance, Animala!” The straights can’t resist when Velma-yet-not-Velma invades their labyrinthine brothels! “Fight fire with fire” before “our lungs fill with the hot winds of death!” (Metallica, 1984): “Rawr! Always agree!” But do we agree? Or are we merely playing you for fools?

(artist: Quinnvincible)

That depends who’s playing! Regardless of whom, straight people are pretty vanilla/freaky in their own ways, and you can’t judge an ally by their cover alone! And yet, it’s easy enough during oppositional cryptonymy to expose frauds, too! For example, simply having a queer person rest their hands on or around their own anus or vagina (above) provokes a patriarchal, knee-jerk response from white moderate women as much as men. “Ah, ah, ah! That’s close enough!” these reactionaries will snap—as if touching and playing with or slapping the vulva equals literally opening the hole (which is both expected and condemned if not done “correctly”). The precursor to doing so becomes forbidden, let alone the act itself as tied to sexual education infused with animal-demonic language/xenophilia! Catwomen of the Moon, transing your kids and turning your women into whores! Why be a whore when you can pimp others, instead?

Such is the usual Faustian bargain offered to straight white women (and token offshoots). The broader canonical idea, then—however insane its mirror syndrome comes across (which is quite insane)—nevertheless can also be taught by dead dogma in furry canon; i.e., werewolf movies prescribing not just silver bullets to the heart, but sexual villainy being a thing that the Straights can wear in bad faith when dealing death out to us fags: to dress up as their idea of the fur fag to then go and rape their usual victims (their wives and girlfriends, prospective or not)! Rape isn’t just of the flesh, but the mind—with said rapists then pinning their own crimes onto more marginalized groups that force Single White Female to make Sophie’s Choice with extreme prejudice!

From a poetic standpoint, the “prison sex” taking place serves a further silencing role; i.e., doing it socially-materially discourages workers from playing with their own bodies, thus prohibiting creative success during oppositional praxis; re: illustrating informed/mutual consent, descriptive sexuality and cultural appreciation: as happening either in personal artwork or through collaborations with other artists who draw the model(s) how they are/want to be seen. Instead, any menticided workers become gargoyle pimps; i.e., punching down at those they can abuse concentrically in the same awful Man Box’s pecking order!

As something to silence, the pedagogy of the oppressed extends to the body itself, separated from the mind according labor at large “put to sleep” regarding the natural world: the whole pussy (vulva, labia, clitoris and vagina) or penis (and all its medical terms), anus, body and person/person’s identity collectively becoming a pathway to forbidden knowledge that is normally restricted to status-quo men dominating nature; i.e., who enjoy and own their wives, the latter toiling at the husband’s pleasure (while said husbands superstitiously reject anything normally coming out of the pussy other than one’s own spent semen; e.g., slime, blood, dead babies, living babies, afterbirth, yeast infections, etc). But this “shit rolls downhill” approach likewise leads straight women (white or non-white) to tokenize, and intersections of female/(monstrous-)feminine groups/whores to tokenize; i.e., to diminishing amounts among increasingly marginalized groups (some of my fiercest critics aren’t TERFs, but trans people [male or female] having sold out/taken the bait from state peddlers, usually TERFs).

We’ll return to the idea of creative successes in Volume Three; i.e., when we explore proletarian praxis at length. For now, just remember that proletarian praxis aims for collective intersectional solidarity against worker exploitation through betrayal-proof forms of nonetheless token-discouraged sex-gender education. By resisting Patriarchal Capitalism during ludo-Gothic furry BDSM, proponents of sex positive education about monsters and sex (furries or not) subsequently (re)present the human body and its genitals, genders and gender roles in iconoclastic, darkly xenophilic ways; i.e., to become something that is heavily controlled in canonical art beyond pornography and extending into myths that affect media (and consumers of media) at large: to duel over alien mates during mirror syndrome extending the policing of sex work to virgin/whore syndrome as, itself, tokenized, thus having had to subsist and bargain with bad dogs we don’t want to breed with! In doing so, we come to know what other animals generally don’t have: shame, but also self-respect and awareness towards said animals (and children) teaching us to loosen up when interacting with other humans; i.e., the former as beings to protect from the usual abusers of us all, doing so using what we human animals have to distract said tyrants with! Shame, sin and vice are taught, as is Pavlovian submission!

(artist: Vince_AI)

In particular, the female/feminized orifices—e.g., the vaginas of any AFAB person treated unironically like a monstrous whore/bitch (above), or the anuses of queer AMAB persons similarly emasculated by any abuser—become collectively demonized, shamed and shunned as “eyes” of confusion, chaos, and darkness. Anthro- and bio-diverse as a matter of campy religion and Paganism—thus a thoroughly non-Christian practice at being “Satanic,” queer and so on—furries become hauntologically associated with abject demons and the undead as vengeful whores of nature needing to be collared, but also skinned and worn like trophies; i.e., tied to bodies, witches, dark queens and monster mothers, which—once spotted by prospecting opportunists—are then hunted by those unscrupulous agents for animalistic coats of fur inside perceived lands where such goods can be xenophobically and xoophilicly harvested, guilt-free!

(artists: Eva Android and SmallBallz)

For straight (white) women, it’s admittedly more distant because they tokenized sooner than other groups; for those other groups, it’s closer to “Tuesday” than not, and speaks to token betrayals having wanted to assimilate based on the harvesting of magic racoons (or some such ghost of the counterfeit, racoons being from Dario Argento’s 2006 Masters of Horror episode, “Pelts,” below): nature’s gratuitous and indiscriminate revenge being a ping-pong ball of doom that, true to form, doesn’t have a singular interpretation!

The monkey’s paw shrivels as the last wish is spoken. The last couple didn’t go so well. Still, you’re confident that asking for a mainstream piece of media that explores some of the historically noted eroticism of fur fashion is a simple wish. What could go wrong? The Pelts Blu-ray smacks you in the face.

This is the tale of what happens when you make a coat out of magic raccoons. (Good story hook, I would have gone in a different direction.) Things get messy, particularly with renowned Giallo director Dario Argento at the helm. There is, of course, a decent amount of commentary around this film being “anti-fur,” but big daddy Dario doesn’t care:

“No, there is no message. I am not with the fur or anti-fur people. I describe the reality – something happens to people. People are all disgusting. There is something that is very black and very pale about pelts” (source: Blake’s “Time to Scream Your Lungs Out – A Brief Interview with Dario Argento,” 2007).

So, plot-wise, the coat does not show up until the last act, about 45 minutes in. That is after the magical pelts have left some bodies in their wake. The one responsible for this is Jake Feldman. Meat Loaf plays him, and I assume he got this role thanks to his tour-de-force performance in To Catch a Yeti. […] He’s got the hots for local stripper Shanna and thinks the only he can get into her pants is with the coat. This is the most realistic part of the entire film.

Shanna puts on the coat in a sequence that calls back to many a shot from cinema history. In this case, you’re supposed to assume her sensual response to the coat is due to magic, pissed-off raccoon spirits. Yet this extract scene exists in many movies with no supernatural influence. Jake’s plan works, and the most horrific part of this horror movie plays out: a love scene with Meat Loaf. […] Suffice it to say; the pissed-off magic raccoons get their vengeance, which involves a lot of red food coloring and corn syrup (source: glamorinfurs’ “Furs on TV – Pelts,” 2022).

As the above author’s snarky editorial shows, it’s easy for the rape-and-death theatre memento mori to devolve into gratuitous shock to poke fun at, mid-performance and -consumerism (which Argento serves up, and not for the first time); i.e., in ways that admittedly miss out on Lewis’ genderqueer cryptonymy and fakery concealing profound critical bite. But allegory can still do a fair amount of the legwork the original author didn’t care about; i.e., a show from nearly two decades past cheerfully romances the neo-noir as caught between an aging “Goth rock” stalwart (“Meat Loaf again?”) and a non-white working girl’s assimilation opera speaking out as the spaghetti Western has done since Kurosawa and Leone: turning everyone’s flaws inside out (up in our guts)! Admittedly the whore in the show has less power than Meat Loaf does, but nonetheless speaks/ties to a larger process of exploitation; i.e., one that sees her making callous sacrifices insofar as she doesn’t lose sleep over the dead racoons, either (the latter slayed rather ignominiously by John Saxon, of Enter the Dragon [1973] fame). Business-as-usual bites her in the ass!

Weaponized guilt, fatal nostalgia and ignominious death are the Gothic name-of-the-game, and everyone’s kind of fucked/guilty here except the racoons’ indiscriminate spirit of revenge cynically making everyone basically commit suicide: a mass hysteria narrative, tilting less at windmills and more smol, silver furry gods of death (coats of money that turn people into the same products, below)! Rather than call it Lacan’s Real or something equally stupid for not being Marxist, I’ll just say that the dialectical-material critique well-and-truly spreads the blame around; i.e., “This is what Capitalism does to your face!” basically turning the trap on the trapper! In keeping with Meat Loaf, its excessive gore is about as subtle and cool as a rock opera historically tends to be; i.e., while singing about rape and death as much as dark desire (with Argento rubbing everyone’s faces in it, above)! It’s dumb, fun and problematic when done wrong! So is dark xenophilia a trap to tip-toe!

More to the point of such mayhem from a pro-nature standpoint, then, the canonical rhetoric of exploitation in such fetishize-alienize stories replaces good education with fear and dogma regarding the protection of women and children; i.e., from a vague and nebulous animalistic threat tied to animal exploitation since the French and Indian War’s romanticizing of the fur trapper industry in more modern hauntings of the medium outside of anything Masters of Horror dared: “groomers.” Bourgeois propaganda keeps the workers scared stupid about their own bodies, sexualities and genders, but also of furries and other nature-themed monsters, whose own iconoclastic extracurricular praxis challenges the curriculum of state propaganda—by dancing on their graves before they die (a death curse, Pagan-style, but glamourous in its sidhe charms)!

As something to reclaim through transgressive camp, such iconoclasms invert fears of the hunter and hunted during exchanges like Argento’s; i.e., the hunters chase what they hate as different from what canon allows. Thus the hunted, though not always, can be taught to hate their own bodies, genders and identifies for being different, hence “responsible” for the violence inflicted upon them by the state as extending to nature being something to attack (as the sex worker in “Pelts” does; re: manufactured apathy when trying to save her own skin).

To encourage cooperation from some women or tokenized groups, then, the Patriarchy will divide and conquer labor and nature by punishing GNC people/furries more than cis-het women; i.e., by calling them (usually male or at least male-presenting trans, intersex or enby workers) “groomers,” and all while making straight women and children more vulnerable to actual sex pests who pimp such xenophilia in bad faith (which tend to be white, cis-het men, especially religious authority figures, coaches and cops, who use various degrees and styles of conversion therapy to groom future victims with; i.e., false shepherds; e.g., Genetically Modified Skeptic’s “How Conservative Christianity ‘Groomed’ Us,” 2023).

Under such orchestrated division dividing natures against natures to police themselves (thus prepare different sides for the same brothel/abattoir), the death of playful, actually-fun-and-informative monster language is a quick and reliable result, but also a slow, painful rape of the mind and one’s dignity. Common casualties not only include words like “breedable” that seek to reclaim workers’ reproductive rights, bodies and expressions of themselves (and their rape trauma) through anthropomorphic art; they also include people from areas of the world who are more regulated in the present space and time, regardless of where they call home); e.g., Arab-presenting (or confused for) women, regardless if said women are Muslim or even Arab (e.g., Iranians commonly being mistaken for Iraqis by ignorant hateful Americans during the War on Terror): Orientalism is xenophobia and xenophilia as something to camp out of canonical forms chattelizing exotic prey!

(exhibit 53a: Artist: Nishakatani. Their exhibit of sexy rebellion shows how women in ultraconservative countries—or people forced to identify as women, in these places—often go to other countries as foreign exchange students, then find ways of escaping the literal revenge killings waiting for them back at home. Such brutality is not performed by extremist terrorists, but by literal members of their own families upholding the values of an ecclesiastical state emboldened by neoliberal Capitalism [exploiting war in the Middle East, framing the genocides—when they actually choose to opportunistically acknowledge them—as “sad,” but the “natural” order of things to police, nonetheless]. In the West, a Gothic princess gains control inside larger castles whose impolite society encases whatever paltry dynasties have been promised to her as dreams for her to make real; i.e., under half-real circumstances, as much happening through play helping her relax and focus on her larger task at hand—something transplants quickly learn to work with through the self-same paradoxes; re: of the whore and of rape reclaiming terror to give her power back!

There’s no shame, then, in weaponizing vanity and self-interest to motivate a collective well-being that former abusers/victims are walking away from [re: Omelas, but also “Amazing Grace”: “I was blind but now I see!” being a former slaver’s subsequent confession, remorse and celebration]. Except, time waits for no one, and genocides are like a ticking FOMO clock; i.e., those under genocide as a matter of staged extermination chattelizing vermin, which suddenly cannot afford to wait on the time of American moderates/tokens leaving Capitalist Realism and its denials [the final stage of genocide, below] behind, let alone neoconservatives and dyed-in-the-wool war hawks and white moderate “foxes” facilitating genocide at home and abroad;

[source: Holocaust Memorial Day Trust]

re: because “animals embody the canonical language of power and resistance as something to camp through demonic and undead forms,” targets of genocide—as a selectively punitive and globalized ordeal—must solidarize while reclaiming their bodies, genders, emotions and labor now-and-from tokenized traitors; i.e., the latter poisoning the well and not just as witch cops, but furry cops. We must stand against them as whore rebels fighting whore cops; i.e., doing so to exact the whore of nature’s stewardship-as-revenge: iconoclastic expressions of critical power through furry-made or at least -themed and -adjacent sex-positive dark xenophilia that are often discrete, furtive and careful [a kind of “flashing” we’ll return to in Volume Three, Chapter Five]: the ungroomed pussy hair contrasted with their carefully maintained clothed appearances, a counterterrorist resisting honor killings in state-controlled territories [e.g., Saudi Arabia] abusing women for an infidel’s Western paradigm. Money talks and sex sells, a pimp a pimp anywhere in the world!)

As Gothic Communists, then, our educational goal is social-sexual—using sex education to liberate all workers in reclaimed furry monstrous-monstrous expressions of nature as something that Capitalism historically-materially exploits to the hilt; i.e., a Grover’s Mill/Miller’s Grove War-of-the-Worlds-scale hauntology that articulates what’s happening when the fascists go mask-off! So must we, to some extent, make ourselves paradoxically known during the cryptonymy process’ ludo-Gothic BDSM: when the Nazi werewolves come out to play and howl xenophobically at the moon, we must howl back xenophillically to ironically challenge their lunacy with our own!

So do we fur fags get down-and-dirty for the Cause—not to sleep with Nazis during brothel-espionage Amazonomachia, but fuck with them from afar behind our usual buffers: “You want some of this cake?” TA-DAAA! The cake is a lie (this, in BDSM circles, is called being a brat; i.e., the usual victims of “rape” taunting the usual “ravishers” by putting both in quotes)!

 (artist, left: Persephone van der Waard; right: Harry Partridge)

To that—and speaking of cakes as things to make however we want—the werewolf is classically a shapeshifter who doesn’t need the moon to change (an astrology allegory tied to capital that demonizes the astral bodies and Pagan solstices; e.g., Halloween, but also Easter under a Protestant ethic pimping witches by turning them into cops and keeping the werewolf costume as much as the witch).

The fact remains, whatever the form a furry (or their cake) takes, our pedagogies of the oppressed aim to encourage emotional/Gothic intelligence and class, culture and race awareness “taking the cake” back; re: during dark xenophilic as something to ironically express through our bodies not just as undead or demonic, but animalized in poetically tasty ways that are inherently GNC and animalistic (which Cartesian thought abjures; i.e., it “tames” nature by dimorphizing it, which always promotes [and disguises] a degree of colonial violence): “She’s got a whole bakery back there!” Of stolen baked goods we make ourselves, so do we whores rob the pimp blind (some people like to watch others eat, but watching’s no fun if you want to “eat” the “cake”): cake cryptonymy! Huge cake ahead, an iceberg sitting on your cake/sinking your battleship! Ok, I’ll stop!

(exhibit 53b1: Comments about Steven Segal running weird aside, Under Siege [1989] offers a surprisingly frank look at heteronormativity “at sea” with its own famous [fake] cake scene; i.e., “straightwashing” the sailor’s matelotage of yore with Erika Eleniak—a 1989 Playboy bunny and ’80s scream queen doing a strip tease for a now-dead admiral acting as his stowaway whore: Taylor Jordan. Except, our smuggled-in Gothic heroine/de facto big-titty Goth GF doesn’t realize her audience is dead because she’s on autopilot; i.e., doing the one-glove Michael Jackson thing less in mil spec fetish gear and more in actually-commandeered officer’s gear intended for the aged head of the ship to watch being profaned: fucking the ship in a Sapphic xenophilia. “Like, Zoiks, Scoob! I think I took one-too-many Scooby snacks!”

It’s the usual chastity narrative teasing the audience, but speaks to how “Taylor” felt “seasick” for the drugs; i.e., as code for her not wanting to do the job [airsick, too, from the helicopter]. If memory serves, the makers of the film played into Eleniak’s real-life porn giving a meta commentary on how showbiz isn’t always glamorous; re: the show must go on! Except, the cake isn’t real, her role is acted/fake, and the ship has been hijacked by pirates that our “Prince Hamlet” must break the titular siege of and get the girl [and her pillow princess’ mammoth mommy milkers] by the end! How Gothic!

Also Gothic is how such things don’t always reflect what the actresses are commenting on; i.e., from Jane Austen’s Catherine Moorland to Eleniak, herself, having a ball of it:

GJG: Did being part of such a big movie bring lots of offers for future films? 

EE: I was very fortunate in that my Mom was the complete opposite of what a typical “stage mother” is. She made sure that I had a normal childhood and stayed in school. I had worked a couple of jobs a year on average but as far as getting roles based on E.T: there were none that I am aware of.

GJG: I loved your role as Jordan Tate in Under Siege. Was there a reason why you didn’t appear in the sequel?

EE: Under Siege was a great film and a fantastic project to be a part of. The role of Jordan Tate was pure FUN to play. I am often asked why I was not cast in the sequel. From what I understand, they wanted to make a completely different theme and therefore a new cast.

 

GJG: What was it like working with Tommy Lee Jones in that movie?

EE: Working with Tommy Lee Jones was an honor for me. He is one of my favorite actors of all time. Watching him work with Gary Busey was also inspiring. They wrote, re-wrote, created, improvised. It was amazing to watch (source: goJimmygo’s “A Conversation With Erika Eleniak,” 2012).

(artist: Erika Eleniak)

In other words, Eleniak was something of a mystery to the boys and their world, and they to hers during the usual manufactured divisions and scarcities extending to and offstage! But also, Eleniak was a smoke-show actress on the big screen, little screen, and softcore porno mag centerfold [above] that translated on and offstage to a Gothic meta commentary about “danger” as therapeutic for those lucky and unlucky through accident of birth!

Consider Eleniak’s starlet-style landing strip but also the asymmetrical power divisions and exchange markets concerning sex trafficking fears and places for such tortures, Radcliffe onwards. Yes, Eleniak’s Taylor is a sexual reward for the underserving hero—with Segal being a famous sex pest known for abusing women and aggrandizing himself—but still has fun/the ability to covey different xenophilic feelings, during the photoplay’s usual T&A swashbuckling: in ways Eleniak found fun by making fun; i.e., in a mostly for-the-boys action romp mistrustful of women/their furry parts, but especially catching feelings for them as heartless sea monsters [as seaman historically treated women, mermaids or not]. That’s her whore’s revenge! Any port in a storm, boys?)

All kidding aside, furries, Communism and Gothic morphology/adventure stories and porn are not separate ideas during dark xenophilia; i.e., any more than “cake” and “death” are during neo-medieval camp (eat your heart out, Tamora, Queen of the Goths). Such things go hand-in-hand to stress the liminality of a given performance’s biological, mechanical and/or instinctual elements: towards ourselves, celebrated for a closeness to natural as “primal.” They become their own kind of nostalgia to regress xenophillically to, then, if only for a small window of play and time in safe “danger” spaces; i.e., the same ones that all kinks use, hard or not, during ludo-Gothic BDSM, and ones promoted by the aesthetic of the whore cosmetic as commonly dressed in black velvet leather or furs; re: as “alien” thus signifying various things said whores will do that a husband’s Madonna won’t: during virgin/whore syndrome wounding their pride in our capable hands! “Shiver me timbers!” TIMBERS SHIVERED!

(exhibit 53b2: The Rotten Tomato’s synopsis for Dennis’ Hopper’s 1994 Chasers reads, “Military men Rock Reilly (Tom Berenger) and Eddie Devane (William McNamara) are tasked with taking a prisoner, blonde bombshell Toni Johnson (Erika Eleniak), on what becomes an unforgettable road trip. Toni, an enlistee who’s in trouble for deserting her unit, soon proves that she’s craftier than most inmates. She tries to escape via a restroom, a theme-park ride and a convertible. But, when Rock and Eddie find they’re impressed by Toni’s pluck, the nature of their task changes.” It’s reads like trash, and it is trash, but Eleniak’s always having fun with it, because luck aside, she was good at her job in ways sex workers need to be: reading the room, onstage and off, but also between those things whiling camping canon xenophilia as whore getting lucky while not getting raped during rape play! “She is Lady Luck!” Tit for tat! The whore—whether fucking or not—navigations the performance one way or another!

Whatever socio-material class, culture and race privilege/oppression exist offstage, they bleed onstage, too; i.e., the cryptonymic paradox of power lurks on the surface of the Aegis bouncing back and forth like a drum; re: as a hauntological space of concealment that shows and hides simultaneously through controlled play! Through said play’s improved, sex-positive evolution, the vulnerable princess trope has power unto itself; i.e., before it evolves or changes into a queen, if ever that happens! The point is, it doesn’t need to, provided sex positivity occurs, hence Gothic-Communist development, mid-synthesis; i.e., as socio-material context during ludo-Gothic BDSM. It’s haunted by slumming and rape in a danger disco, but the princess is free to be “ravished” and transform/transport us through her slutty exchanges, revenge and xenophilic revelations: research, release, rescue, rape and relationship swirling wonderfully on the same stained-glass episodic’s white-hot plasma; re: the whore, policed, pimps the ghost of abuse!

Furthermore, each time we return to knead its potential, the bread basket gives up more and more yummy treats: with a special friend we cannot fuck or be with, in person, yet something profoundly made-to-order as ace and erotic, happy to please! We raid the castle and the traveling fortress/pirate ship in small boards us; i.e., the longer humans have had access to writing and games, the more these and their camp have become increasingly haunted by ghosts inside-outside themselves; re: the usual mise-en-abyme hyphenations of sex and force, shelter and exposure, unfolding per the dialectic of the alien!

As such, humans are ontologically messy and sit, one and all, hermeneutically in between language as oral/written, but also played out between and on recursive and reflective stages’ usual cryptonymies’ playtime and recess/aftercare: to regress magically towards a childlike theatricality’s special ability to exchange that, unto itself, has been forgotten, and sits between what is being exchanged while the rememory process welcomes an adult-child return to innocence after experience shapes and evokes said nostalgia into a terrifying boomerang double threatening boom and bust.

Seemingly at odds, both forms of power historically-materially interrogate and dialectically-materially negotiate with themselves and the audience looking in, if any—meaning simultaneously and on the stormy seas of spectacular battle and delicious hoax; i.e., sex in a nutshell something to assign further significance towards and in the usual playfulness embracing a silly-serious cryptomimetic echo! All our yesterdays, summoned to our fresh service, making Marx gayer with each foray into the wild frontier’s unknown discoveries? Medusa’s avatar was a dummy-thicc nerd with glasses, sweater kittens and a fat ass? FULL BROADSIDE! DISCHARGE AND SPREAD THE MUNITIONS ALL OVER HER PROW! SHE’S OURS FOR THE TAKING! RAMMING SPEED!

[artist: Harmony Corrupted]

Fun is often a nice surprise, but also the entire point; i.e., it’s how humans learn and pass information along. However unintended a given side effect is—and regardless of what [a]sexual elements we get out of it when fetishizing class war in the shadow of state exploitation and war for profit that we’re camping—that’s the magic of roleplay and ludo-Gothic BDSM! To give our actions and roles power as an identity formation and exchange network embodied between us, meaning one we can exchange through the usual performative language of cyclical and monomythic, gyn-ecological conquest as something to perform—not to further abjection, but reverse it to have the whore’s revenge; re: mid-ravishing whatever value and vice we assign to whatever we want, minus actual harm as we make a pass at you; i.e., a military drill in disguise, but also fun and games; e.g., the Blue Gemstone of Star Sapphire Power wedged between Harmony’s fat cheeks and deep into her tight butthole: “This is the work of an enemy Stand!”

[artist: Harmony Corrupted]

enjoyment of “rape” doesn’t endorse rape, function determined as usual by function, regardless of aesthetic; i.e., lost in your necropolis, neither fully dead nor alive while aping the looting of Rome [re: Jameson’s class nightmare of the Gothic given conscious utility]! A grapeshot ensemble, littering the halls with fresh dead, and haunting the fall of the princess with the spirit of a little rebel faking her own death [and hinting at the systemic deaths of the bourgeoisie]! Roast her squishy, marshmallow, crackerjack[-in-a-box] ass; get a cereal decoder ring! CASTLE RAIDED!)

Capital busies pimps; pimps or not, workers are so busy chasing whores/feeling sorry for them, they forget we can handle ourselves to some extent. In any event, such syndromes need to be negotiated and subverted through ourselves and our work having a humorous side; i.e., through social interactions that speak a social species that is both alienized and made fetish by the state, but also designing returns to more vivid and intense forms of dark xenophilic poetic expression. These can be down-and-dirty “breeder” scenarios/piece-of-ass schtick, but just as often, they’re quite tender and intimate; i.e., in ways whose immediate animality is uncanny in—for the uninitiated—a surprisingly nurturing and welcome fursona nevertheless closer to life and death as some than your average worker is: a piece of cake/princess of the twilight realms dodging state guillotines!

(artist: Vana)

This “good play” and pedagogy of the oppressed can involve many different teaching methods through art—to insert things into you not just as drugs to imbibe, but food to eat, Alice-in-Wonderland-style; i.e., literal objects in your body as a form of dark xenophilic art; e.g., dildos as material extensions of the body but also carnal appendages like limbs, digits or unusual extensions into forbidden holes (evoking Tool’s “Stinkfist”) and liminal expressions of these things: the biomechanical expression of the human form, but also the decolonization of its bodily functions, biology and gender roles away from Cartesian dualism and heteronormative canon!

In this sense, the cake is still cake, but is and isn’t what the state bakes it to be; i.e., liminal expressions of the human body through erotic Gothic art represents cultural fears and fascinations with taboo things like nature; re: that we’ve since become divided from in the modern capitalist world: the animal side as something that calls to us and promotes healthy (ex)change and openings of the mind as closed by capital settler-colonial police-the-furry-slut ghetto-brothel pogroms!

To it, I want to spend the rest of part one setting up/exploring the premise of interactive education generating dark empathy/nature and the whore’s xenophilic revenge; i.e., as communicated/prepared between artist/muse creatives (thirteen pages, plus some extra exhibits), and then spent part two unpacking educating dark xenophilia in full: giving it back to the next generation, from children onwards!

Muses, then, can teach the artist about all sorts of things. Take anal, for example; i.e., I was scared of anal for many years, the anus being an abject site of disgust for me going in and something I recognized as a site of rape and coerced entry from unwanted male forces; e.g., humiliating sodomy. In other words, I hated the thought of invading it based on its reputation as a site for coercive, unironic tortures historically committed by men, usually against women but also feminized subjects within rape culture more broadly (which I experienced with Jadis abusing me—not during the sex, itself, but from the financial abuse attached to it).

Personally I learned to stop worrying and like anal sex more by experimenting with various de facto educators—monstrous-feminine owners of anuses who taught me that anal as an act of giving and receiving can be pretty fun, once ventured; i.e., it can be something you never try—or eventually try but never like—and that’s ok! Same goes with furries, too! The idea is to figuratively and literally play with yourself and others, learning from these xenophilic experiences and passing that information along—not just with our literal bodies, but “Satanic” forms that, under the status quo, have become chattelized and demonized extensions of neoliberal/fascist fear and dogma; e.g., demonized forms of Paganistic, thus notably pre-Christian religions or ways of life as being closer to nature: as “untame,” wild and dark, thus whore-like in ways that nuclear proponents treat with hostility as a matter of thinking chattel/slaves!

(artist: Vince_AI)

However aberrant canon frames furries, the medicinal idea of sex-positive monster-fucking and natural magics can break these modernized myths; i.e., by offering proletarian forms of sex/gender education and good play based on personal experiences defined by a bond with nature as something to identify with through shared oppression; e.g., catharsis, euphoria and lived trauma, etc, tied to furry panic. Singular anecdotes remain vital because they help form a larger web whose interlinked connections’ empathy through xenophilia can not only be felt and expressed in liminal, surreal forms, but sensed dualistically among peoples whose minds are still fully or partially divided: a Gothic, animalized surrealism evoked famously by the likes of Giger and Beksiński over decades, but whose hellish and oft-erotic “pathways” can be taken during xenophilia as artistically embodied by new artists in similar surreal-yet-refreshing ways.

This includes living latex (e.g., below, but also exhibit 60e1), but also furries begetting revolutionarily cryptonymic ideas of dark radical (ex)change: to witness among our friends (e.g., Angel, exhibit 54) and associates various dark boundaries and paradoxes to install and act out; re: chasing dark buddies down while haunted by colonial trauma (the skinned animal worn as a suit [often synthetically made] to reclaim nature with/from capital, below); i.e., as we “hug the alien” in multiplicity and liminal anisotropic duality! The suit isn’t strictly a prophylactic, then, but dark aphrodisiac and sensory dampener dispensing with the pleasantries! She squirts more than a grapefruit! Consent, play and fun are hot! So is provocation!

(artist: Zero Brain Pow)

Yet, corporations and other bourgeois forces will strive not just to impeach these educators’ infernal gravity and magnetism, but rob their animalistic teaching methods of any critical power and iconoclastic potential to advertise with. To this, the nature of rebellious furries is communal in ways that don’t stress profit above the community—an anti-capitalist trading of goods and bartering that corporations don’t endorse or practice themselves; i.e., empowering artists, but also donating generously to philanthropic causes while using their xenophilic fursonas as educator personalities developed between smaller collaborations dedicated to a larger cause (above and below):

(exhibit 54: Model and artist: Angel and Persephone van der Waard’s “Transformation, Collage: A Mermaid’s Exhibit” [2023]. My first collage. Most of these photos are “dark matter photos”—”dark matter of the visual world” [Thomas Keenan’s “What is a Document?” 2014] being a term-of-phrase that Zeuhl introduced me to, referring to the colossal number of digital images [millions upon millions, I’d wager] taken every day online that no one will ever see because the taker keeps them in an archive that is private and/or otherwise inaccessible through the sheer volume of material. This shoot includes photos taken that the model chose for the 45 poses I paid them for—45 poses with multiple shots per pose and “the good ones” being cherry-picked and sent to me.

I, in turn, took the ones I liked best and put them into a collage, but one of which I later planned to select from to illustrate. However, in terms of showcasing the model’s body in art, these images are anathema according to the Symbolic Order/mythic structure endorsed through Capitalism; i.e., bodies with external labia and excessive body hair having cryptonymically become darkness invisible because their owners are discouraged from showing themselves—shamed, prohibited, or presented coercively as sex monsters through a punitive-prescriptive production model built on/around preferential mistreatment: good girls may be seen but not heard; bad girls get punished with image death, job death, social death or actual death in passive and proactive ways save when tokenizing as whores the state can pimp. The relationship Angel and I had changes that by treating and showing them as simultaneously human-yet-monstrous; i.e., through the context of mutual consent/negotiation [a prime factor of ludo-Gothic BDSM, thus Gothic Communism]!)

For example, aside from Zero Brain Pow and her compatriot, the above collage was taken from a larger shoot between Angel and myself. It was taken by them (and a friend of theirs holding the camera) to be part of this book, used inside it with their permission. Angel became familiar with my work by responding to a Reddit ad where I was looking for models to draw in a fantasy style (source: Chozogirl86’s “[for hire] looking for pin-up models to collab in fantasy art projects. Art worth $80+ in exchange for modeling services!” on r/starvingartrists, October 29th, 2022). They chose a mermaid and we eventually prepared for the shoot. I think it was $120 for 45 photos (roughly $2.5 per photo)? Thereabouts!

[model and artist, top-left: Angel and Persephone van der Waard; artist, top-middle and bottom-right: Hirohiko Araki]

Eventually I may draw Angel as a mermaid, like in exhibit 54; i.e., for funsies outside of our agreement. Per our agreement, though, I paid for the photos, and used them to draw Angel as a vampire; re: from Volume Zero (exhibit 1a1a1h5, left), the exhibit thereof actually based on Dio from Jo-Jo because Angel loves that show. And yet, the deeper context behind our collaboration embodies the continuum of xenophilic praxis surrounding Gothic Communism; i.e., as dark xenophilia stretching cryptomimetically across space and time, onstage and off, backwards and forwards. as something to communicate prior to me actually drawing anything—merely it as assembled with nuts and bolts that have nevertheless become their own art exhibit (unintentionally but very much in the spirit of this book): a historical-material transaction between two parties inspired by other parties to meet different xenophilic goals of universal liberation chased by all.

In turn, these collectively-if-stochastically operate as part of a larger s mode of nature-themed whorish apologia; i.e., for Angel to learn about themselves by expressing and showing off who they’re becoming as something to teach me (and teaching me about Jo-Jo but also shunga media), and for me to teach and convey my ideas to them and to the world we’re both adding towards: on the same umbral/umbilical lattice, passing dark xenophilia along in all directions!

And furthermore, in doing so, everything goes into the same sex-educational pot—each educator getting something useful and enriching out of a mutually beneficial, anisotropic lesson plan: playing with furry poetics in “ancient” forms of poetry that deal—like Walpole did before us—in and with fairly quotidian struggles trafficking magical qualities of GNC existence, expression, exchange and ultimately transformation being uniformly “dark.” That struggle means different things for both of us, but contributes towards a larger goal that, like Communism and helping liberate nature from capital, is forever ongoing in holistic and populous ways that intersect and diverge; e.g., we’ve both changed a ton since making our mutual deal with the Devil, as have any of the artists featured in this book!

(artist: Angel)

The lesson isn’t just “for us,” then; it’s for the world—to teach people through these dark xenophilic connections and emphera to be more emotionally intelligent and aware about nature and the Gothic, thus enriching the lives of workers by making them less stupid; i.e., in a deprivatized sense, which ludo-Gothic BDSM helps accomplish through furries, among other monsters (with Angel again liking vampires; re: Jo-Jo). As such, doing so is a process of continual improvement in opposition to state abuse stupefying its labor force for profit: an abject “pill” to consume in a variety of ways—not in privately owned factories, but made between two (or more) workers relying on the awesome power of the body and mind reunited with each other and nature through mutual consent as an artistic movement: illustrated as labor action by turning into magical animals symbolic of profound transformation in Western culture since Ovid!

To help workers get what they want—sex, companionship, improved material conditions, legislative rights, shelter and so on—they must be taught to fight back by seeing themselves as human-yet-chattelized in ways they can reclaim; i.e., to relate to one another as animalize beings in drug-like poetics cultivated to defend the vulnerable from legitimate xoophilic threats. This happens by not being creepy weirdos who have no earthly idea how to talk to women (and other mates); i.e., those beings forced to identify as women, non-binary people, asexual people, and other marginalized groups (even non-human pets) who are often sexualized against their will in dehumanizing modes of chattel stripped of their reverse-abject magic.

In short, the entire social process must be rehumanized, including the magical language of nature and its non-human animal demons; re: as something to reclaim from capital’s neoliberal illusions; i.e., the spell of a secular world that nevertheless remains haunted by Puritanical dogma and Cartesian domination verminizing the weak (again, human or not) to turn a buck behind Capitalist Realism. Small wonder we whores seek revenge (the monstrous-feminine “born dead” in different ways, depending on who you’re talking about/dealing with): for ourselves as small invulnerable parties raped, like any animal, “on the slab.”

Keeping with acid Communism and trauma, I’m largely referring to the red pill as stolen from The Matrix directors (modern-day Mercutios, going to Queen Maeb); i.e., the left from them done by Manosphere pigs who proudly wear their sexism and ignorance on their sleeves like a badge of honor (fascists love playing dumb to please master). Except, bigotries tend to overlap with second-hand abuse, and said sexism of direct abusers extends to so-called “normal folk”; i.e., who also have a lot to learn about people (and other animals) outside their normal range of experience/abjection (and who look the other way when hate crimes against GNC  persons happen, or any minority under the sun).

Keeping with the pill analogy as a dark xenophilic acid-Communist metaphor/refrain, I liken the effects of Gothic Communism’s pedagogy through ludo-Gothic BDSM as a social-sexual “drug” that has wide-reaching linguo-material effects. “Taken,” said drug displays a startlingly vivid portrayal of neuroplasticity on the canvas—one’s body and gender but also symbols and themes of these interwoven and roiling-writhing across society like a menacing snake ball. You can literally watch people’s views and art change magically before your very eyes (with danger and adrenaline making for a powerful aphrodisiac during calculated risk, but also general societal inspiration, too): if we can change into the dark GNC furries/furry-adjacent people we turned into, then maybe others can, thus the world! It beats the xenophobic abattoir we currently subsist inside!

Alas, sexuality and gender—even when divorced from monstrous-feminine animal themes, stigma and language as part of a sex-educational exhibit—often are banned even when attempting to normalize diversity with kid-friendly animal mascots; i.e., in books written (and drawn) for children; e.g., It’s Perfectly Normal attempting to normalize sex and learning about it through anthropomorphism, versus steeping such things in ignorance to the detrimental of all—with powerful men becoming inadequate save when they’re torturing women-as-animal, as well as non-human animals and anything else they fetish-feminize: to feel like men, yet alienate themselves from everything in pursuit of such nonsense!

(exhibit 55a: Originally published in 1994, Robie Harris and Michael Emberley’s It’s Perfectly Normal didn’t include gender—not until a new edition came out in 2019, twenty-five years later! Until then, the book was banned for many years and continues to be banned and challenged to this day! At the time, it gave teenage me a better understanding of my pubescent sexuality as a young artist; i.e., as wanting to express myself in the mid ’90s in relatively limited animal monster language: Harris and Emberley’s Bird and Bee my first brush with furry art [not being exposed to DBZ and Saiyans until 1996]!

Now, I’m delighted to see it includes a section—if not on furries, then at least on gender studies—which I’ve included in my own book for the purposes of study and critique [the full image can be accessed on my site]. Suffice to say, the writing and illustrations indicate an expanded audience; i.e., with more people of color and other ethnic minorities, as well as the entire LGBTQ+ spectrum, including ace people! That being said the book isn’t curricular—it is extracurricular but remains an excellent example of morphologically sex-and-gender education meant for children ten-and-up that allows for holistic xenophilic artistic expression; i.e., of these things married to talking animals: something to consider and emulate in our own work as de facto educators stressing sexual and asexual appreciation of nudity and gender in sexualized media—a concept we’ll return to, in Volume Three!

For now, just remember that Matt Walsh hates Harris and Emberley’s book because it represents something he fears and loathes: educated children and universal acceptance and love. Such things are antithetical to profit, which must always be raping nature as alien animal whore!)

To that, Gothic Communism demonstrably produces sex-positive results in the art itself; i.e., as something to exhibit and explain the history of, but also improve upon over time: with new editions that expand to include increasingly marginalized groups, my series doing the same thing as Harris and Emberley did (a conscious attempt at diversity and voluntary representation for those working with me in increasingly xenophilic ways Harris and Emberley couldn’t, given their target audience not being teenage or 18+). And while our target audience is all peoples, there’s a particular emphasis on educating children, teenagers and young adults—to educate them through our own artistic expressions; re: to become more emotionally and Gothically intelligent/aware in regards to nature, animals, magic and drugs as vital xenophilic components thereof: to decrease ignorance regarding and reducing the risk of rape by diminishing profit as a dogmatic structure. No offense, but simply talking about the birds and the bees will not cut it!

Speaking for myself in that regard, books only get you so far in affairs of sex and love; i.e., despite having an overabundance on puberty and how to make babies, said glut of media actually did almost nothing to prepare me for the complexities of relationships (sexual or not) growing up! So while I had sex when I was in my early twenties, and wrote a great deal of fantasy stories/drew much in terms of trans fiction with magical-animal shapeshifters (re: Glenn the Goblin, exhibit 44a1b1a), I didn’t start having regular social-sexual relationships until I was 29, and didn’t have my first relatively healthy one (with Cuwu) until I was 35; I didn’t meet Bay—my life partner and husband—until I was almost 37 (“I’m 37!“). It might seem like a drag to learn all of this so late; then again, some people never learn, and I’ve learned a lot/met some truly awesome people doing this book! Growing hurts, and I wouldn’t change a thing!

Furthermore, not talking about sex and gender at all and asking kids to abstain from sex (despite it being sold to them in animalized forms) is frankly a historical-material recipe for disaster punishing furries and other objects of natural exploitation; i.e., one deliberately made by those in power to keep youngsters ignorant and afraid, thus easier to control. By abolishing state schooling and making extracurricular materials scarce, book-banning and -burning always follow with people-banning and -burning as vermin to exterminate; i.e., we can’t afford to be innocent this time! This includes regarding how the state manipulates children into adulthood through the fears they’ll invariably have pertaining to their own bodies as animalistic; i.e., in relation to the natural-material world around them coded with signs promising punishment and control they can triangulate onto state scapegoats: bigots will fear animals and nature as needing to be tamed, thus will look the other way or even participate directly in hate crimes against “evil” totems and other natural demons (think Lord of the Flies and you have the right idea, left).

Simply put, there’s always someone stronger to exploit someone weaker in their system, and guess which one you’re gonna be!

In relation to this fascist apathy as something to survive and challenge with empathy as, itself, darkly xenophilic and vengeful (through creative success), queer-coding is a sign for those who know—often by blending it in liminal ways that walk the tightrope: hiding ourselves but also making ourselves visible; i.e., as we trespass cryptonymically into reclaimed territories in search of better parentage to “dole out,” hence impart unto the young as starved for good sex education; e.g., like the Bat Signal, except it’s an act of subversive education through reclaimed objects of animal fear (the bat and other creatures of the night) that dismantle billionaires and Bruce-Wayne-style police violence while combating criminogenic etiologies, not symptoms (save to punch fascists and expose cops as traitors).

In turn, the latter unfolds during what, for many queer people, is a second childhood; i.e., not just through experimental drug use—be that puberty blockers, HRT or similar gender-affirming care—but a state of mind that reflects on exiting the closet while looking back into said closet as an adult: a dog having left its cage but embracing its dog-like liberation from slavery during ludo-Gothic BDSM (anthromorph sex, but also social courtship practices, below)!

Such “trips” (so to speak) head down memory lane in a very Gothic way and one that queer groups in particular tend to experience more by virtue of them realizing they were always gay and looking back on a formerly “straight” childhood puppy love; i.e., with fresh eyes, drugs or no drugs. Children’s cartoons makes for good places to start, then, because they routinely concern a time when the brain is still rapidly growing/the hemispheres haven’t fused yet, and experimental drug use/self-medication generally isn’t occurring (one can hope); e.g., with me revisiting Sailor Moon, but my friend Angel considering Revolutionary Girl Utena (1999) through a similar developing queer lens (and fanzine they help run):

(exhibit 55b: Revolutionary Girl Utena applies the “prince” style of crossdress to female-centric heroism; i.e., working inside a reimagined historicism/mil spec: the female officer of the novel-of-manners as traditionally male. Yet, the bildungsroman speaks to a hauntological coming-of-age that isn’t tied strictly to biology and teenage adolescence; i.e., a second adolescence experienced by trans people, said GNC persons addressing Gothic maturities hinted at in earlier fictions less versed in GNC/furry diction, but not material struggles surrounding courtship and its tell-tale lycanthropes’ jousting maneuvers during demonic courtly love [an Amazon no different than a furry insofar as both belong to nature as something to assimilate or annihilate]!

In Austen’s Persuasion, for example, Captain Harville represents a new rising class of “made man” through soldiery on the tides: the naval officer as able to socially elevate and offer himself as a particular catch to heroine’s like Anne Elliot. Utena bends this dichotomy as more than simply reversed; i.e., during cis-gendered, drag “king” theatrics, but rather as queer love happening entirely between AFAB characters that translate to those who aren’t female feeling/relating to female/feminine existence in animal-like ways: as GNC monstrous-feminine, themselves; e.g., me feeling chattelized in ways that women historically have been, and wanting to grow strong without assimilating but instead acclimating myself with the classic threatres of assimilation to subvert it as Utena does.)

As part one of this subchapter has shown, sex education often works within totemic and natural-demonic language; i.e., as policed and persecuted, regarding the education of child and adults, and whose dark xenophilia extends to defenders of nature belonging to, or identifying with, nature; re: through monster-fucking as a magical, iconoclastic act with drug-like animal elements. These heretical educations can involve anthropomorphic animals, of course, but also symbols of nature as potentiating dark drugs to take that are frequently associated with natural “magics”; e.g., like astrology or Paganism as things to poetic convey to children at the correct age; i.e., those in the midst of sexually maturing into adults, but also grappling with performative and identifying notions of gender mid-struggle as whore-like, animalized, and ultimately alien.

Indeed, a common form of integrating natural demonology into sex education is through children’s literature—with the stars of many-a-children’s book being anthropomorphized animals (exhibit 55/56a) but also magic girls as cute protectors of nature; re: Sailor Scouts, aka witches by another name as sex-positive, soldierly expression having its own navy girl aesthetic: Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon (the female soldier gender-bend also being present within Utena).

Sailing is just a chance for discover new life and leases thereof through assimilation, but charting a course through the veins of capital out into realms of exciting possibility that can change capital at the same time. Out of 17th, 18th and 19th century matelotage or seamanship, then, emerged the sailor (scout or not); i.e., as a pirate-adjacent symbol of “queer” discourse in fantasy stories aimed at children, but also adults; e.g., “Hey, sailor!” “booty” and sodomy on the high seas among pirates as a countercultural tradition that was challenged by Cartesian thought pimping animalized workers and chattelized animals through the same unironic xenophilia, thus phobia. As the Closet Professor writes,

In Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition, historian B. R. Burg investigates the social and sexual world of these sea rovers, a tightly bound brotherhood of men engaged in almost constant warfare. What, he asks, did these men, often on the high seas for years at a time, do for sexual fulfillment? Buccaneer sexuality differed widely from that of other all-male institutions such as prisons, for it existed not within a regimented structure of rule, regulations, and oppressive supervision, but instead operated in a society in which widespread toleration of homosexuality was the norm and conditions encouraged its practice (source: “Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition: English Sea Rovers in the Seventeenth Century Caribbean,” 2010).

Moving into part two of “Dark Xenophilia,” we’ll continue our investigations into nature-themed sex/gender education—first, by examining some of these magic girls next, as well as the larger sex-educational, genderqueer/and acid-Communist xenophilic trends they’re associated with; re: chasing the black rabbit as an ongoing motif. We’ll also examine the historical-material struggles (and political enemies) that sex-positive educators have faced while touching hearts and opening minds through increasingly pornographic, drug-like, and even surreal means!

Before we do, though, here’s a few more exhibits to bridge the gap; i.e., which cover the ace-to-erotic/social-sexual gradient of xenophilic expression that furries inhabit alongside other monsters of the natural class. One broader cryptonymic categorization is Trojan animals, known more colloquially as Aesopian fables. In Volume Zero, we even talked about Trojan animals, but especially the black rabbit as divided further in two camps: the class-dormant, traitorous sort and the conscious double. Often these play out in videogames and neoliberal franchised material as something to hook kids on, Animal-Farm-style: kid-friendly ace kinds of “puppy love” that are expected to escalated sexually in monomythic ways!

(exhibit 56a1a1: Artist, top-mid-left: source; top-middle: source; top-right: Mobian Monster; bottom-left: xHimikox; bottom-middle: CNN Sally Acorn; bottom-right: Wild Blur. Sonic the Hedgehog the videogame is neoliberalism par excellence; i.e., its story is pure nonsense, dressed up in the theatre of “freedom fighter” animals that push back against a black-and-red Egghead/evil nerd who wrecks the environment and imprisons nature. All well and good, on its surface. Yet, the simulations for fighting against such cartoon villainy are themselves escapist power trips loaded with the usual false-hope clichés: the hero, heel, and damsel, the latter needing rescuing at the fastest possible speed through the aesthetics, but not the function of rebellion; i.e., neoliberal furry porn sold to kids, who grow up in to policing the monomythic refrain through its usual double standards: monopolizing xenophilia through a phobic abjection mentality taming magic-animal husbandry!

To that, nostalgia and fandoms commonly grow into “fan fic[tion]” head canon that prolongs the life of a franchise: fleecing the fantasy hero avatar through a femme fatale whore/moll and by extension the player base! As Rouge the Ghost Bat shows, fast [and unscrupulous] girls pick pockets with their pussies [or other holes]! Whores charge not just expensive, but exorbitant prices, their own named rates as pricey as exogamous dowries and far-off pastorals: sexy thieves making do by paying rent using their own classic modes of transaction under capital’s usual tricks [so to speak]!

The fact remains, men are dumb but also, animals [or those reduced to animal means of survival as something to master] communicate through their butts; i.e., often through sense, touch and other non-verbal, instinctual methods of data/goods exchange: “Thank you! Come again!” So is survival a compelled service industry that pimps whores canonically through the topos of power of women; i.e., made to serve the usual dumbasses thinking they’re owed much by “saving the world.” But it’s exceptionally educational in campier forms that enrich the whore; i.e., as more than a piece of ass treated as “tricksy” by weak-willed incels.

[artist: Hoovesart]

Rouge, for example, is a straight-up pro who takes Sonic for all he’s worth [two pages down]! Watch and learn, girls! The point of the fantasy is catharsis as much as it is telling monstrous-feminine workers to leverage their position with sex. Yet, they can in and out of art should they choose to! Power is power and nothing commands attention like a whore dancing and/or fucking to metal! The power fantasy is anisotropic, insofar as men—the privileged group—dream constantly of different ways to be the conqueror paying the “easy/dangerous” whore in gold, during virgin/whore syndrome; and she, to manipulate these men for various reasons using tools not permitted to gentle, delicate, and otherwise prim-and-proper maidens.

There’s a lot to play with, and it cuts both ways in different flavors per direction and role, but generally through the exchange of power symbolizing as different goods during the theatre of sex and force; re: Rouge—ready to throw down as much as get down—the holistic interplay ranging from poor white trash to redlined ghetto occupants seeing how the other side lives during a poetic spectrum of courtly love scenarios; i.e., whose social-sexual elements and Romantic-to-quotidian code [of sex and force, per folkways, mores, and taboos, but also prices paid and honor exacted by whomever]!

Furthermore, whatever the avatars, “humanity” is a battle for human rights under state comorbidities pimping nature as monstrous-feminine. As things to chase, enact or avoid, then, rape and respect occupy the same space; i.e., during education through ludo-Gothic BDSM as being good or bad [for workers or profit] to varying degrees. A whore wants respect, but also her rights respected, while she fights to survive as whores do [controlling the situation, above]. To it, there are endless ways to slum/play court; i.e., from a variety of registers and double standards, and regardless of one’s age, color, class and/or creed. Modular genres intersect, combining the medieval romance with the modern noir and Western from the whore’s perspective: the classic givers of sex, thus “luck” as something to get with, arbitrating through poetic performance and exchange—a farting and belching slut, guzzling cum and counting gold [a sex goblin]!

In turn, men and Man-Box tokens are coded to mark, then prey upon such persons, and those persons to respond in kind defensively [re: Kagero, keeping her guard up]. We punch up and down from wherever accident of birth finds us! Whores are born in brothels, and brothels—like casinos and suburbs as architectural divisions during Cartesian us-versus them—are man-made [or penned by token authors; re: Radcliffe’s Udolpho chastising Vallencourt, man-whoring it up in city-of-sin, Paris, tempting him with scarlet, non-English women of the night with loose morals]! She’s “got Stockholm real bad!” pulling off the heist of a lifetime with her tight little pussy [and/or asshole, mouth, cleavage, thigh gap, etc]!

[artist: Hoovesart]

As such, Rouge is the whore to play out a variety of anisotropic power fantasies, be those assimilation, escape, or revenge, etc, and however temporary or returned to; i.e., from adults treating such animals and [a]sexualities/genders differently than children might: settling old scores by “running it back”! What sexphobes call “gooner” and “slut,” for the whore is simply a day at the office, giving out bad-girl-to-GNC-sodomy rewards beyond basic vanilla maidens and prudes! And if that seems like a raw deal, we can camp and make it better onstage and off, doing so through Gothic poetics like Rouge the Bat; i.e., as someone to camp canon with as a member of the weird canonical nerd’s usual stable [of token whores] colonizing nature per the usual mantras and axioms! Everyone likes the whore, if only to canonically exploit her [re: Radcliffe, but also similar stories fearing the whore as acting like a rapacious, functionally non-white man of nature/the streets; e.g., Zofloya‘s Victoria during the dialectic of shelter/the alien]!

And if that seems unfair and/or loaded to anyone wondering about the educational or exploitative values and vices worked with, ask why that might be from a historical-material standpoint; re: the criminogenic chattelizing of such liminal expression as taken by fans to do whatever they want with [often fantasizing about sex, but I digress]! A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do—getting dummies to overplay their hands while she takes the prize during ludo-Gothic BDSM; i.e., when reduced seemingly to a disadvantaged position of survival, she’s always thinking two moves ahead but ready for whatever comes [so to speak] in the present moment!

Rouge is a rogue[7a] in more ways than one, her chameleon sexuality violent and intense—simultaneously guilty as sin and carefree [while having maidenesque elements/desires to be treated well: as a slut during the whore’s paradox, thereby navigating one’s confused/mixed feelings while nature/nurture takes its dialectical-material course]! Camping our own survival is fun—not ranking rape to act superior/punch down, but speaking to others through shared trauma during idiosyncratic privilege and oppression’s sexually descriptive and culturally appreciative pedagogy of the oppressed! Whores need to look out for each other because other people classically don’t [e.g., whorephobia in cop shows making us out to be the self-same whores Radcliffe’s bad-faith maidenesque dehumanized for profit]!

[artist: Schpicy]

Canon-wise, though, the nostalgia of the racing platformer [a race to sex: “Gotta go fast”] as controlled opposition is deftly brought to a new generation of kids by parents who were raised on the same stuff, except this time it’s a run-‘n-gun concerned with pugilistic forays alongside the shooter [similar to Sonic and Doom in the early ’90s, I suppose]. First, it was Sonic’s “shadow,” Shadow, as the pissed-off false rebellion sold to kids, in 2005; i.e., swapping the Sonic-Adventure-level Fonz hand signals for the middle-finger and pistol held sideways, and remade into a new post-Covid trilogy starring—I shit you not—Keanu-fucking-Reaves as Shadow [and Jim Carrey having turned from ’90s pet detective to 2020s mad scientist reviving his career for the umpteenth time]. I can’t hate it, at least not entirely!

More to the point, nature remains a common selling point through xenophilic exploitation media; i.e., through monomyth theatrics leveling up with the kids chasing power and sex through such horny animal pipedreams; i.e., Sonic‘s Japanese neoliberal schtick aping bigoted Pax Americana and selling it back to the states through their own gun porn: John Wick and Akira-style bike chases both strip-teasing and strip-mining the cyberpunk; i.e., as the “bad future” Sonic warned about, and which these and other furry avatars [with ace potential, if not always fandom expertise, above] are running around inside. Like a bat outta Hell, this translates easily enough to similar simulations also sold to teenagers and adults in parallel media pimping the same basic refrains [next page].

The rabbit, as a Paganized xenophilic symbol, is always fetishized under capital; re: including the kid-friendly “Sonic” type, which then extends to Sonic clones “all growed up.” In the case of Bunny from The First Descendant hero-shooter hybrid, it’s basically a 2023 Destiny offshoot pimping “fetish Sonic with guns”; i.e., she’s the original party animal Sonic was supposed to be [a rabbit] tied up in black fetish gear and electro-shocked with blue bolts of lightning while she sprints to and fro. It’s ace as much as not, because BDSM is public nudism in paradoxical forms of nudity on the surface. But it’s also fetishized militarism tied to social tiers of elevation and assimilation swapping the rabbit and Elmer Fudd to hunt the state’s foes; re: courtly love, thus rape, leading its own kind of mercenary token xoophilia! A pimp is a pimp, a whore a whore that can pimp nature as an undercover cop whoring for the Man!

As such, Bunny’s a corporate mercenary sold to Gen Z [and the next generation after that] as “merc merch”: pure, appropriated sex appeal and brawn dimorphized in all the social-sexual usual ways: sex pot, smart, unavailable and dangerous [as the monstrous-feminine always is]. This means, if we want to camp canon, we’ll be following her black tail/trail, not just the white rabbit’s, through whatever drugs or drug-like poetics blazing happily through capital; i.e., in our own art/sex work, of course, but also our social-sex lives that synthesize our art as wrapped up in the general, messy scheme’s public nudism: acts of sex and force to varying degrees of modularity and overlap. To that, roleplay often invites people to play out their fantasies in whatever costumes they choose, including psychosexually regressive childhood crushes: from videogames being the juvenilia’s locus, yet one that works well enough for our little rebellions in and out of the bedroom, on and offscreen and stage alike.)

Forgetting Zeuhl (who fleeced me with their pussy easily enough), the rabbit isn’t always bait, though—at least, not for us. If the “fash” rabbit is something that weaponizes the language of the harvest and witch hunt against the usual suspects under Capitalism (often by token police), then it’s clearly something we may camp through the iconoclastic function of animalized power and resistance having simultaneously ace and erotic elements; re: freedom fighters and cyborg rabbits surviving biomechanically between green pastoral and robot Hell not being something the state can monopolize, from us back to Shelley and Milton and ultimately Shakespeare and Ovid. All owe something to cybernetics, totem animals, and hybrids of these things’ drug-like mad technology run amok (the plans of mice and men didn’t account for women and rabbits, but also guerrilla reinvention making furries something more than mere intended, control-opposition consumption for profit and nothing else)!

Yet doing so also isn’t stuck within videogames or their paratexts; i.e., it can be with any art that we make with our bodies and the world around us—often, I would add, fueled by trippy imagery that, if not strictly an acid trip, still figuratively tumbles down the same rabbit hole with social-sexual potential: beef and porked up, but not for state harvests to exploit through public nudism and enforced chattel sexuality as usual! We pork among ourselves, a cryptonymy that feeds revolution!

(exhibit 56a1a2: Artist: Blxxd Bunny. As stated earlier in the series, Bunny is quite ace, themselves, exposing their own public nudity out among nature while of it. Such socialized displays of sensuality through Sublime exposure isn’t unique to us in the present.

For the British Romantics, that is, communion with nature varied per generation, those of the first seeing nature as more motherly and nurturing. With the rise of Napoleon devastating Europe following the French Terror and subsequent purges, though, second-generation Romantic depictions of nature became more ominous, rapacious, vengeful and fearful; i.e., radicals like Byron and the Shelleys clashing with social-sexually conservative forebears like Wordsworth and Coleridge.

According to Stephanie Forward, second-generation Romantics also regarded their first-generation elders with criticism and mistrust: 

Blake, Wordsworth and Coleridge were first-generation Romantics, writing against a backdrop of war. Wordsworth, however, became increasingly conservative in his outlook: indeed, second-generation Romantics, such as Byron, Shelley and Keats, felt that he had ‘sold out’ to the Establishment (source: “The Romantics,” 2014).

But the demonizing and dominion over the natural world by capital had already been occurring for centuries; re: following the emergence of Cartesian thought and its Revolution as pioneered not just by Descartes and Bacon, but Columbus butchering his own target groups; i.e., in acts of Christian-fueled savagery over those he deemed inferior enough to pimp—an act other similar Protestant sects would emulate in the self-same epidemic of sickness-inducing abjection hiding/showing itself through capitalist cryptonyms: statues not of heroes, to the Indigenous, but a brutal tyrant they’d have to suffer the songs of “progress” being sung at their expense for centuries:

Indigenous communities have been persecuted in the Americas since Christopher Columbus first came ashore on the island of Guanahani in the present-day Bahamas 528 years ago. They have had their land stolen, people slaughtered, enslaved, and infected with diseases, women raped, children kidnapped, treaties broken, and possessions and goods plundered and looted. There were between 5 million and 15 million Indigenous people living in North America in 1492. By the late 1800s, there were fewer than 238,000 left. The so-called “Age of Discovery” has begot centuries of genocide [source: Penn Today’s “Indigenous Views of Christopher Columbus,” 2020].

Along with furries and drug use, such mentalities must be reclaimed by demonstrating nature in social-sexual forms; i.e., as something to reunite with, but also embody in ways that depict nature as something lush that needs to be protected, revered and preserved, during land back: a deep-rooted place of procreation and love, symbolized as such since Antiquity into the Internet Age [the bacchanal orgy or tryst, commonly set to music while on drugs]. But those making art aren’t doing so in the abstract; it represents their homes as a part of who they are and vice versa. As Nyx writes in regards to coming home:

“I love coming back home and exploring the woods I grew up in. It’s such a refreshing experience and cleansing to my soul. These WV woods will always have my heart, no matter how far away I stray 🤍” [source tweet, 2023].

 

Whores of nature have an ace element, then, insofar as the things they love that “grow” aren’t just genitals, but the greenery of plants that fauna feed upon [and take us home when we die]! This threshold and proximity with the divine in nature is both intense, but also oddly nurturing and protecting in ways that eroticize nature as optionally orgiastic: a potential bacchanal that lets people enjoy the same current aliens pushing towards reunion however all parties agree to—a wishing well where sex for one person is a handshake [as animals saying hello to one another] and for others more sexually responsive an orgasm of erotic bliss, insofar as that’s how they respond to such displays “in the wild!”

As such, the sex isn’t enforced to appease merely one side for profit through force, thus becomes negotiated fairly towards mutual consent—my dark dream attached to Gothic Communism, but one of infinite possibility and lucky titillating voyeur/exhibitionist splendor relayed on the Aegis; i.e., of cuties like Bunny and Nyx, each having portentous booties to relay such data with at all: dat ass, amirite? It’s not a capitalist Bringer of War [and other Malthusian nonsense] but all the usual post-scarcity joys known to happy rabbits on Bunny Island, and sung about through the usual paradisiacal longing: Sublime and Numinous thirst traps enjoying Stravinsky but not endorsing his abject views of nature’s bare-and-exposed terrifying Big Whores’ heavy artillery! There is no one who needs to be cannibalized [except the bourgeoisie class positions]—no one pigeonholed into the essential victim. Simply us using what Medusa gave us: a bit [or a lot] of strange!

[artists: Nyx and Blxxd Bunny]

“West Virginia, mountain mama. Take me home, country roads.” Personified by the likes of Teddy Roosevelt, nature conservationism is a theme of conservative Americana and written by those who profit from it, versus land back; re: John Denver’s music, arguably romancing the nostalgia of the highly destructive coal industry [and parodied by Ridley Scott, who used it as David’s siren song for Alien: Covenant with Shaw’s pre-recorded voice]. But Denver’s “Mountain Mama” is as much being Mother Nature and its empathetic inhabitants; i.e., who legitimately have a strong bond to nature and are recognized by society as “of nature”: in a very Cartesian sense our own social-sexualities can subvert the ensuing abjection and pimping with a whore’s often asexual public nudism; re: the freedom to walk among Paradise as ours to decolonize through such displays: “You’re safe, here; i.e., as animals of the Earth who won’t rape each other because that desire has been taught out of us on the Aegis!”

Furthermore, within these liminal positions, the thicc, tattooed bodies of cuties like Nyx and Blxxd Bunny are ample, fruit-like and covered in their own “Odes to Psyche” butterfly tattoos—the butterfly as a hauntological symbol of transformation, death and stigma [the skull and the snake] signifying their body as a welcoming site of currently forbidden pleasures [ace or not] denoting xenophilic harmony with the natural world we all belong to! Beyond Keats and his cult of Dionysus, though, there’s likewise other places of natural avatars and fantasies to retreat into using ace-to-not-so-ace cryptonymies; e.g., Pippy Longstocking!

[artist: top-left side: Inger Nelson; top-middle and middle-left side: Tami Erin; bottom-left: Dani Starwyn; lower-bottom-left, -mid and the whole right side: Blxxd Bunny]

For starters, the aesthetic of the furry speaks to animal women with Amazonian flavors aimed at kids; i.e., can also be reclaimed through the “hunter’s look,” hence the olive-and-brown camouflage of the American Army historically used in the usual settler-colonial schemes: ones where white hunters try to bond with the land their ancestors stole from Native Americans; i.e., it becomes their land after the genocide is complete, the history of the former people forgotten, but also imitated in good faith or bad. This liminality can be embodied through the non-Indigenous by virtue of those who are white belonging to a colonizing polity whose wider policies they reject, while still rocking the camo look [camo is nowhere near as problematic as, say, the Swastika or the Confederate flag].

So of course, there’s certainly nothing wrong with being “country” or rustic provided the class character is embodied within the critique—i.e., the art itself as being deliberately sex-positive, thus discouraging genocide on principle. Indeed, the country girl as a practicing witch, Amazon or general-practice magical huntress can be eroticized through common fetishizing markers: the glasses, pigtails, or freckles—a kind of latter-day Pippy Longstocking:

Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster created Superman when society needed a hero to battle bullies like Hitler and the Nazis. Pippi came along a decade or so later to take on a few bullies of her own: institutions that demand conformity; societies that over-regulate children; and anyone who’s ever used the phrase throw like a girl as an insult instead of a compliment [source: Schmoop’s “Pippi Longstocking Strength and Skill,” 2023].

The ginger farmgirl is a kind of good-sized, Norse-tinged rustic [“Pippi” meaning “lover of horse” in Norse] who’s no stranger to honest work; i.e., someone Pippi personifies and who Blxxd Bunny channels a certain essence of in her own performance as tied to the Earth around her [even when she’s indoors]. This spirit of strength and sexuality is not unusual even within Pippi’s legacy—with the actress who played Pippi in the 1988 film, Tami Erin, making her own sex tape: 

Former Pippi Longstocking star Tami Erin is selling her own sex tape. The 39-year-old has decided to let a porn company release the explicit video before her ex-boyfriend beats her to it. Tami believes that if the tape is going to see the light of day, she may as well get paid for it [source: the Daily Mail’s “Former Pippi Longstocking Star Tami Erin Decides to Release Her Own Sex Tape,” 2013]. 

While it was released under the threat of revenge porn, Tami decided to own the film and regain control by releasing it herself. Good on you, Tami! It can’t be blackmail if you get out in front of it, and you might as well get paid for your trouble!)

Now that we’ve examined furries and other erotic, monster-fucking forms of the natural demon class persecuted under Capitalism during furry panic (and Red Scare through acid Communism)—as well as covered some social-sexual examples with ace tolerances—let’s set upon our aforementioned path towards queer magic transformation; i.e., out of the simplicity of childhood towards a life of chaos, painful transformation and death, but also erotic expression as something to “grow into” when expressing ourselves as magically part of nature and the great outdoors: being something to look into, but also inhabit and express with our bodies and nudism (re: exhibit 56a1a2, above).

(artist: Blxxd Bunny)

As such, we’ll examine the magic girl, a shapeshifter unicorn and Giger’s xenomorph as increasingly transgressive and gender-troubled modes of GNC poetics bound up with the nature world; i.e., as hunted, hence something to express in often policed ways: magic and drugs, but also sex demons (whores) tied to them as things to face, even duel and chase down like Alice chasing the white-to-black rabbit into Hell as much as Wonderland! To it we don’t take drugs to literally see the future, but help our minds process the complicated emotions and memories that already spell historical materialism (and its dualities) out; i.e., if Capitalism is a cancer that grows to devour the world through workers, then these drugs (and the muses tied to nature who evoke/use them in furry-like ways) are the medicine to shrink its influence and kill the tumor with! We’re the nymphs the old poets wrote about, into the present state-of-affairs!

To that, oppositional praxis is fractally recursive, meaning smaller forms reflect larger functions and structures; e.g., Nazis poetics, apathy and thoroughly settler-colonial expansion/persecution mania. The magical element is the power to shapeshift through the aesthetic; i.e., as a matter of context and appearance that, through a variety of the latter as ludo-Gothically flexible in its BDSM, conveniently helps the former flow power towards us through dark empathy/xenophilia with style! Nature is alien, and she wants hugs, but only if we can catch her! The terror of the chase, and Beethoven’s-Fifth-style codas, highlight the predator/prey thrill of such things; i.e., during a palliative Numinous and—apart from the usual hyphenations—stress the sheer flight aspects to said exchanges. Far from bleak nihilism, then, it becomes what it was meant to be: a drive towards liberation from capital’s usual pimps whoring us out!

So white or black, follow the rabbit, babes! “The woods are dreary, dark and deep, and she has many promises to keep,” carrying the heavy time of old clocks racing towards through capital counting down! To avoid state shift, we look on our own Aegis showing Medusa in ways others might be repulsed by if not for the social-sexual latitudes hinted above: a sight of danger but also communion with the dark gods and their socially fluent and sexually potent, dashing animal-avatar pirate guise (where kittens and tigers occupy the same framework); i.e., letting us cryptonymically outmaneuver our foes better than Caesar could ever hope to kettle us, during guerrilla war!

Good things (treats) come to those who wait (versus simply wolfing down what capital craves to dominate while stigmatizing the usual abject scapegoats); i.e., this is our land and capital isn’t welcome here, the sun, moon and stars—hell, the whole fucking universe—not something that orbits around them, and certainly not us and our desires (sexual or not)! Tiger bunny go rawr! Our guerrilla’s “ancient” spirit of dark xenophilia—thus reinvention/road to redemption while reclaiming our self-to-societal respect as sex workers through iconoclastic art/mutual labor action—lives on; i.e., saying to all of you, “Tip your sex workers while playing with them; don’t exploit them!” and testifying all the while to our own abuse/survival onstage and off; re: during such playtime’s liminal expression: the black rabbit to follow!

The oldest heroes escaping exploitation are whores. By comparison, pimps are the oldest villains policing said whores. They operate through abuse as a matter of—among other things—scarcity and drug use, which new victims must skirt seeking liberation through ancient theatre tropes; e.g., the old doxy a monster detective dodging Athenian-to-Spartan women as much as men. Under capital and its hauntologies, the whore is always the Omelas scapegoat, because the state demands rape to exist (which it controls through force, destitution and drugs, among other things): something to pimp nature with, whatever the form; i.e., something to tame and own, during insect politics; e.g., honeybees, but also elderly people: “Well, now your backs gonna hurt, ’cause you just pulled landscaping duty!”

Exploitation, though endless (stealing from labor’s infinite value), has its usual classic symbols among the myriad offshoots demons and nature portend (through undead trauma). From the Archaic Mother’s Gorgon, winged, pre-Christian fallen angels to modern Satanic forms, nature is a whore to pimp by modern enterprising cops and their police states decaying within capital; e.g., 2019’s Fate/Grand Order: Absolute Demonic Front – Babylonia‘s Medusa vs Leonidas (the eternal whore vs the hauntological Nazi Spartan leader of strongmen returning to greatness, above). In turn, a whore’s pimp is always cryptomimetically close at hand (or vice versa); i.e., looks can be deceiving but also speak truth through deception as open, naked: “Give me a boy until he is seven, and I will” dogmatize him six ways from Sunday! It’s Paradise Lost without the camp, aka the Bible. We must camp it, or suffer the usual rape and neglect supplied to whores of all kinds!

Mind or otherwise, we’re sex-demon detectives investigating our own rapes; i.e., every word/flash of skin a forbidden testimony the state, who—along with its cops (token or not, the latter making Sophie’s Choice)—desperately want to silence but can’t; re: because there must always be a whore to pimp by the usual cops playing kayfabe Amazonomachia dress up. It’s always the happiest ones, faking it ’til they make it, then punching down the hardest to those they’re tethered to (re: Federici)! Meanwhile, state apologia is rape apologia. Subverting that, the revenge of we out-and-out, loud-and-proud whores breaks with tradition, thus segregation and genocide during the abjection and cryptonymy processes setting nature free; i.e., as monstrous-feminine by breaking profit on our Aegises; re: through the usual testifying that occurs along chronotopic architectural/forensic morphology puns, mise-en-abyme! Whatever Capitalist Realism portends, money is theft—freedom and meeting our basic needs (until development occurs) not mutually exclusive, insofar as we steal back what the state taxes for itself! Whatever canceled future you find them in, then (cyberpunk or Gothic castle), sex work is work, onstage and off. So pay your sex workers, survival sex work or not; either way it’s still a basic human right (re: “Paid Labor“)!

Except, the whore can’t have an alibi when she’s on the rabbits trail; i.e., threatening profit, meaning we’re the canonical “homewreckers”: shitting like the homeless or housing challenged where the middle-class personal property owners live (the latter being the classic villains of the Radcliffean refrain, gatekeeping capital for the state): showing the complicit and the holier-than-thou our normal everyday survival on the Aegis speaking offstage as much as on. “Hop like little bunnies,” as Mom used to say to us kids; beware the poachers while looking for love/answers! Love is a battlefield! Show them no quarter using Cupid’s Shaft; i.e., when making it the dialectical-material context of your illustration of mutual consent, doing so on your confessional’s wicked canvas! Ace to anal, the Aegis is yours to reverse abjection with, cowgirl or otherwise!

(artist: Blxxd Bunny)

Onwards to “Dark Xenophilia, part two: Magic, Drugs and Acid Communism“!

---

Footnotes

[1] A Nazi dogwhistle, oddly enough. Turkey Tom is a fucking chud who, like all chuds, passes himself off as the most educated person in the room; i.e., the most correct/least criminal. These knee-jerk distinctions merely reflect the socio-material factors (settler-colonial divisions) at play. The likes of Turkey Tom immediately benefit from a system that turns them into sexual predators and opportunists preying on racial, ethnic and gender minorities, etc, for their own gain. It’s sad and gross, and not limited to the likes of Tom; i.e., he’s one of many and fails up to punch down.

For example, in genre-specific channels, horror is visited by white centrists who play defense for capital by both-sidesing radical politics on either pole, aka the horseshoe approach; i.e., conflating Communism with fascism, despite them being historically at odds. Kayfabe conflates them in the same post-WW2 shadow zones, and such persons are more likely to defend really awful conservative rapists, too; e.g., Cody Leach defending a recent horror event “graced” by pedophile Kevin Spacy (In Praise of Shadow’s “Bad Conservative Horror Movies,” 2024; timestamp: 11:31).

[2] Whereas “kinning” is a deep sense of empathy tied to human or at least humanoid characters/monsters—usually in fiction—otherkin ties to non-human fictional elements.

[3] A trippy take on Clarke’s Law, insofar as advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, but also “ancient” technology being like drug use and shadow play! Two sides of the same coin!

[4] From Alex Garland’s 2018 adaptation to Jeff Vander Meer’s Annihilation (2014).

[5] Regarding hate crimes, “The term ‘hate’ can be misleading. When used in hate crime law, the word ‘hate’ does not mean rage, anger, or general dislike. In this context ‘hate’ means bias against people or groups with specific characteristics that are defined by the law” (source: United States Department of Justice).

[6] Well Cuwu did; my trans woman’s fat ass/dad bod leaves a lot to be desired, I feel (thanks to Jadis adding a bit of “love bomb” weight to my poor skeleton). Then again, Cuwu didn’t complain, and that’s all that matters! Enjoy ’em to the hilt, bitches!

[7] I.e., hard-boiled, having no reproach nor remorse, but working instead to challenge manipulators with their own levers and facades/false pretenses of wisdom, goodness and health. A demon gives as good as she gets, taking like a vampire (specifically a ghost bat, in Rouge’s case); i.e., to teach the usual bad-faith thieves a lesson. An open alien whose existence and trades are incessantly taboo doesn’t have to keep up appearances by assimilating/can get the impostor on the hip through greater fluencies with such exchange; i.e., an open secrecy that their foe is less prepared to administer when pressured: keeping them close but at arm’s length, the ace with the ass of the gods, working her usual pickpocket charms to take stolen goods won fairly to the local fence.

Such stories canonically blame the whore by fetishizing her even when she owns it; i.e., damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t. Professional or personal, ace or ass, revenge is its own best success/revenge against profit; i.e., the usual detectives chasing with their own tails versus her solving the case with hers; re: between acting and not acting onstage and off; e.g., Katie Dickie solving her own son’s murder by chasing the culprit through sex—an act that simultaneously repulses and excites her but also bores her to death—in ways that highlight her own loss and alienation, but also mistaken sense of justice when she discovers the killer already went to jail for the crime: drunk driving. He’d already atoned (or tried to), leading her to have to face her child’s death in a new light:

[7] Sorry, Rush, but the shoe really fits, here. “We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx!” but not in ways that you could have imagined; i.e., while writing love letters to Rand, Bernays, Orwell, and Tolkien, in the 1970s (oddly enough, your best period, but also one where you aped Led Zeppelin’s fash-adjacent and wholly problematic love for runes while saying little of worth to people who weren’t like yourselves with said runes: white and middle-class platitudes that, to be fair to you, still have their moments (e.g., “Free Will“). In any event, I don’t measure someone’s success by how much money they can make while posturing as more rebellious than they actually are!

That being said, can I enjoy Rush, anyways? Absolutely! I grow up with them in high school, and Marilyn Roxie even featured my review of 2112 to commemorate Neil Peart’s death, in 2020:

2112 is one of Rush’s most endearing albums, and certainly there’s a lot to enjoy about it. However, its greatest strength—accessibility and refinement—is also its Achilles Heel. They rarely if ever buck the trend of checkered incohesion, almost making this album a blueprint for failure in that regard: The lengthier tendencies of their older works remain, albeit with less errant unpredictability and flashiness. As a result, 2112‘s rambles feel almost empty and blank in spots—a problem that bleeds into several shorter songs (source: Persephone van der Waard’s Rating94544799; Jan 11th, 2020).

Revisiting that review after five eventful years, I can safely say I flat-out love the music (which still straight-up slaps [da bass] after all these years)! 10/10, would fuck to, again!

Even so, my Communist convictions remain unfazed by such hero worship; i.e., I will happily skewer Rush’s underlying lyrical content/political message the old pros smuggled, then and now, through their gentrified rock ‘n roll commercialism; i.e., their dogmatic elements—specifically Rand’s repackaged dystopian objectivism—is, to be brutally frank to our Canadian meganerds, shameless Red-Scare bullshit; re: written first by a Russian sell-out (and aped by Orwell, an imperial cop), only to be enshrined into the halls of the (white straight) rock gods by the usual authors of the ghost of the counterfeit. Fear-fascinated with Communism as rock ‘n roll “black magic” obscurantism. weird canonical nerds gonna weird canonical nerd:

(source)

Like, God help me, you’re such monumental dorks (a fact emblematized by my Catholic, sexless and gun-nut roomie, “Beavis” from Volume One, who loved Rush). And even if I wasn’t a former diehard paying fan (which I was, in the iTunes era), you’re not gods; i.e., I can still critique you and enjoy you for it—meaning in the neoliberal era you doomsayed all the way to the bank… and which the 2012 Funny or Die skit, “Jason Seigel & Paul Rudd Meet Rush,” happily makes fun of; i.e., ribbing “the Holy Trinity” in ways that I can’t help but chuckle at; e.g., “I have a jerk off station!” says Seigel, only for Geddy Lee to not bat an eyelash/miss a beat (I’m sure he’s heard far worse from more effusive [and sexually forward/available] roadies)!

To it, fandoms betray the complicit cryptonymies their authors use; i.e., if your material is full of Nazis, chances are, there’s a problem with the parent source material acting pimp-like (re: Tolkien, Rowling, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath and so many others; e.g., Ozzy and company largely used the late 1960s and early-to-mid-1970s as a chance to party and enrich themselves opportunistically: on the backs of suffering minorities they aped and pandered with to white straight paying customers). In the big picture, then, Rush weren’t rebels but businessmen on the right side of the fence!

I.e., hard-boiled, having no reproach nor remorse, but working instead to challenge manipulators with their own levers and facades/false pretenses of wisdom, goodness and health. A demon gives as good as she gets, taking like a vampire (specifically a ghost bat, in Rouge’s case); i.e., to teach the usual bad-faith thieves a lesson. An open alien whose existence and trades are incessantly taboo doesn’t have to keep up appearances by assimilating/can get the impostor on the hip through greater fluencies with such exchange; i.e., an open secrecy that their foe is less prepared to administer when pressured: keeping them close but at arm’s length, the ace with the ass of the gods, working her usual pickpocket charms to take stolen goods won fairly to the local fence.

Such stories canonically blame the whore by fetishizing her even when she owns it; i.e., damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t. Professional or personal, ace or ass, revenge is its own best success/revenge against profit; i.e., the usual detectives chasing with their own tails versus her solving the case with hers; re: between acting and not acting onstage and off; e.g., Katie Dickie solving her own son’s murder by chasing the culprit through sex—an act that simultaneously repulses and excites her but also bores her to death—in ways that highlight her own loss and alienation, but also mistaken sense of justice when she discovers the killer already went to jail for the crime: drunk driving. He’d already atoned (or tried to), leading her to have to face her child’s death in a new light: