This blog post is part of “All the World,” a sixth promotion originally inspired by the three I did in 2024 with Harmony Corrupted and Romantic Rose: “Brace for Impact,” “Searching for Secrets” and “Deal with the Devil” (2024), as well as “Make It Real” for Volume One and “The Total Codex” for Volume Zero. Those promotions sought to promote and provide their respective volume’s individual pieces for easy public viewing in single-post form; re: for the Poetry Module, Undead Module and Demon Module, followed by my PhD and manifesto. “All the World,” by comparison, caps off my book series with a promotion for Volume Three; re: my Praxis Volume. 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 “All the World’s” Table of Contents and Full Disclaimer.
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.
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Rockstars: From Rock ‘n Roll Fans and Jimmi Hendrix’ Penis to Horror Movie Special Effects (feat., Cynthia Plaster Caster)
Though, to be fair, a guitar is more than just a schlong. The body of the guitar, lovingly caressed by the guitarist, has the narrow waist, sensuous s-curves, and child-bearing hips of the female form. It’s like some ancient fertility goddess composed of a limbless female body with a giant penis where the head should be (source).
—Nathan Biberdorf, “Sometimes A Guitar Is Just A Guitar. But Usually…” (2014)
Picking up where “Moe/Ahegao, Incest, and Eco-Fascism in Japanese Exports” left off…
Note: Black penises are fetishized constantly in popular media. For a good examination of this in an unlikely place, consider “Concerning Big Black Dicks” vis-à-vis orcs and goblins in Tolkien’s canon (which features plenty of Harmony taking a big black dildo, below, while “fucking the alien” to reverse abjection). —Perse, 5/9/2025
(artist: Harmony Corrupted)
Now that we’ve examined the idea of transgressive nudism, as well as several famous monsters for that purpose, and more difficult forms of pain-/abuse-themed transgression, let’s change pace; i.e., by leaning into the seminal, group-oriented euphoric activity that is live music, public hedonism, heavy metal and group art as antiestablishment in a sex-positive, thus anti-capitalist sense. After all, to make something “metal” is to invoke demonic “poetics” with transformative potential; re: Harmony Corrupted and I doing it; i.e., to play with the powers need to subvert canon and its heteronormative stranglehold on the Superstructure, thus the Base. In this sense, antiwar and antifascist sentiment and sex positivity remain common attitude in rock ‘n roll culture and horror Americana and have been for over half a century going strong. To make my point, we’ll look at several examples to inspire you with on your own paths to rebellion: the rockstar’s cock and its fans own magnetic bods, to fans of metal who create similar effigies by playing with taboo material in horror media.
Note: Cynthia Plaster Caster was someone introduced to me in grad school by Zeuhl, when they showed me a documentary on the groupie and her strange hobby, Plaster Caster (2001). —Perse, 5/7/2025
First, the rocker’s cock, Jimmi Hendrix. If a common racist sentiment is the penis as something for white women to fear in American xenophobia (re: the Wilmington Massacre), then what better way to subvert it than through the cock of a beloved black rockstar who outplayed his white cohorts? First, I’m not kidding when I say that Jimmi’s penis has been thoroughly studied and documented, thanks in large part to a fan
(source: Diaries of Note’s “The Plaster Caster Diary, 25th Feb 1968,” 2023)
but also for white people’s investment in studying his preserved member as a specimen at The Icelandic Phallological Museum:
(exhibit 105a1: Source, left: “A Cast of Jimi Hendrix’s Penis…” [2022]. The classical virtuoso was, in older musical periods, expected to improvise in ways that later became seen as overindulgent and masturbatory, but also devilish [e.g., Paganini]. There’s something almost xeno-erotic, though, about a white museum containing Hendrix’ legendary cock as a profound specimen. Within the industry, though, cock-worship is very much emblematized by sex-positive, xenophilic white women who, like Alexander Manly, owner and editor of the Wilmington Daily Record, once said, “suggesting that white women slept with black men of their own free will” [re: Luckhurst]. Non-white bodies become something to be appreciated for their colors as visible, thus recognized for their oppression as something to humanize by a loving [and sometime silly] fan. As Cynthia Plaster Caster says about Jimmi:
But I couldn’t say whether or not he’s my most exciting. Because they’re my sweet babies and I am their mama and I’m very democratic with all my babies. I don’t like to play favourites. I love them all. The experiences were equally exciting and weird and different from each other [source: Crystal Koe’s “Jimi Hendrix’s Penis to Be Unveiled at Iceland’s Phallological Museum,” 2022].
She was someone who sees them, versus appropriating them in the slumming sense; e.g., similar to Shaneel Lal as a notorious queer activist whose own impressive survival needed to be chronicled in a diary to expose widespread issues that many allies refuse to examine because they train themselves to ignore what’s going on.
Moreover, not all cocks or bodies are given a museum credit or memoir to immortalize them; many equally portentous members are handled be equally awe-struck fans who don’t know the owner:
[source tweet: Anubian Armani]
Armani, above, tweets: “By the Gods … fuuuuck! Not even fully hard and I can attest to it! I have never taken anything this thickness before(close), but I never step away from a challenge Should I handle this beast?” It’s not pejorative but [to turn a phrase] “in awe of the size of the lad.” Sometimes you just have to stop and admire the scenery for simply being impressive. It’s not slumming or racist to stare in hesitation or awe; if you’re worried or excited or eager, that’s not uncommon, either. Size difference is a thing. But even with “size queens,” relative to it going inside your body—be that the mouth, the asshole or the pussy—there is such a thing as too big!)
The fandom goes beyond artistic groupies and lily-white scientists; it pertains to rocking fans who—unlike the white slummers of the Harlem Renaissance—actually believe in equality for all as a socio-material movement to be shared; i.e., through music and dance as something to collectivize. Or, as I wrote in Volume One:
Anyone who tells you not to stand up for yourself serves the status quo. Books exist to critique and hold power accountable; so does music (e.g., New Zealand reggae: Kora’s “Politician,” 2004; or inuk circumpolar hip-hop/rap* [a combination of rap, metal, and traditional inuk folk] Uyarakq’s “Move, I’m Indigenous,” 2021) [source: “End of the Road”].
The right to assembly and free speech is a general form of resistance that is regularly controlled; music, as part of that, is a form of sex-positive resistance celebrated among friends established through celebration, communion, and liberation from oppressive societal standards: the cryptonymy of crowds to blend into!
(exhibit 105a2: Top-left, top-middle-left, and far-middle-left: Nyx and her bestie, Dino Des—source tweet, 2022; middle and bottom-middle: Cynthia Plaster Caster, in the flesh, holding a plaster-cast mold of Jimmi Hendrix’ penis; top-right and middle-right: Judas Priest and [a very gay but then-closeted lead singer, Rob Halford] in Japan; far-middle-right: Zakk Wylde; bottom-right: the man himself, Jimmi Hendrix; far-bottom-left: Jimmi Hendrix and Eddie Van Halen, with their signature guitars “Black Beauty” and “the Bumble Bee” [which Eddie’s original was buried with Dimebag Darrel’s casket after the other musician was killed onstage by a crazed fan; you can, however, buy your own replica].
Rock concerts are an excellent place to conduct iconoclast praxis—by “getting’ together” and having fun with metal as something that can bring peace-loving people together. Just beware of colonizers, as always [Spectre Sound Studios’ “Racism in Metal: A Very Bad Idea,” 2016]. Even when it’s “just a joke” told by your heroes like Jason Newsted, expect pushback from fans of those people unironically defending the Nazi fucking salute as a bad joke; i.e., when silly trans people like me “try to spoil the fun” by pointing out that, no, the Nazi salute shouldn’t be done for funsies [source: my response to a 2022 YouTube community post by Ahdy Khairat]. To defend “free speech” is to defend white people’s “right” to do the Nazi salute as canon; it’s war and rape apologia executed by the oppressor class’ class traitors; white boys. You see any black dudes doing the Nazi salute for fun? If they want to, they may but most don’t for a very good reason; it serves no purpose but to disparage them and their entire culture. To pretend otherwise by demanding the paradox of tolerance is more bad-faith nonsense: perfidious arguments made by bad sons taught by bad fathers; “prison sex” for the mind that makes these boys the collective “bitches” of Capitalism.)
The trick, then, is fight smart—to offer “perceptive pastiche,” but also to appear badass/cool and talk about these things in ways that people (other than small children, though tween boys will draw dicks on just about anything they can get away with) can handle: the so-called “acceptable rebellion” as codified by the old record labels and their fat cats (“everyone loves rock ‘n roll, right?”). If you think the days of touring and music videos are dead, just look at Metallica or Billie Ellish. At these shows, or making your own art, sneak things in there for those who know or who might be inclined to notice because they already think you’re cool (or because they’re there for sex, drugs, and rock ‘n all—a good time, in other words).
This goes beyond any single medium, but all mediums within a Gothic-Communism; i.e., this Tokyo crowd loving Zakk Wylde just as Japanese rockers have loved imported rock musicians (and Sentai camp; e.g., Worthikids’ “Captain Yajima,” 2021, with its vamp rock, queer-coded villain, Captain Zoga being a fun cross between Rita Repulsa, KISS, David Bowie and Parade of Funeral Roses) for decades—the likes of Ritchie Blackmore, Uli Jon Roth, Malmsteen inspiring Concerto Moon, X, and various other Japanese rockers[1] riffing off the same ol’ pastiche in marginally different ways. Have the more overt stuff, too, of course, but sometimes introducing ideas gradually can be an effective tactic—slow-boiling a frog instead of just scarfing the sucker down flat.
It bears acknowledging those working behind the scenes—not just the rockstars, but those who design/accommodate the monsters, too. Even when media is iconoclastic, it involves a tremendous amount of talent and labor that often goes unsung and/or unseen when “borrowing” the same “robes” to continue an iconoclastic tradition unabated: the tech people, but also the pyrotechnics, light show and cables and wires as things that cross over into Gothic cinema as a staged, “totally metal” performance playing with taboo material—sex of course, but also violence, xenophobic themes and memento mori approached with tender care and creative, xenophilic love. It’s badass in an antifascist way that puts people first, not profit or property.
To this, Alien is somewhat unusual in that it brought the public’s fascination onto not just the monster but a blue laser taken from The Who (who were touring during the film’s production). In truth, the behind-the-scenes of that movie was effectively an artistic troupe’s tour de force as part of a kit-bashed revival of Neo-Gothic anti-Capitalism in the 20th century. Not only as the cult artist H. R. Giger given further attention, but it was revealed that many of the big names working on a low-budget smash-hit were also bonafide artists with teams of enthusiastic workers in a devil’s workshop; i.e., people of the devil’s party and well aware of it as a creative, countercultural tradition that goes back centuries but whose “camp map” (re: “Camping the Canon“) extends forever into the present. This includes industry “names” like Adam Savage as giddy as schoolboys on set of a Ridley Scott movie (exhibit 105b1), but also smaller fan projects with smaller FX companies like Vancouver FX that have the same enthusiasm and trade secrets in mind when telling similar iconoclastic, “Satanic” narratives in the Internet Age (exhibit 105b2):
(exhibit 105b1: Adam Savage, on the set of a Ridley Scott film [Adam Savage’s Tested’s “Adam Savage Explores David’s Lair in Alien: Covenant,” 2018]. In part, his excitement is because he’s a “fanboy” who loves Ridley Scott. But the reasons why pertain to the spirit of creation as both men channel being displayed in continuum on screen during Alien: Covenant.)
Starting with Savage, his work in the FX industry is guided by an atheist set of principles that aren’t afraid to “play god” in a poetic sense. Simply put, he’s a self-proclaimed and practicing Humanist, one who’s creative work is a serious reflection on his view of the world; i.e., as something to consciously engage with through allegory as “Satanic” relative to organized religion. The two are linked, outlined by a speech Savage originally gave to the Harvard Humanist Society in 2010:
I order my life by the same mechanism that I use to build things. I cannot proceed to move tools around in the real world until my brain has a clear picture in it of what I’m building. The same goes for my life. I’ve tried to pay attention. I’ve tried to picture the way I want things to be, and I’ve noticed that when I had a clear picture, things often turned out the way I wanted them to.
I’ve concluded by this that someone is paying attention—I’ve concluded that it’s me. I’ve noticed that if I’m paying attention to those around me, to myself, to my surroundings, then that is the very definition of empathy. I’ve noticed that when I pay attention, I’m less selfish, I’m happier—and that the inverse holds true as well (source).
In Alien: Covenant, the process is diegetically presented by David as a devil in his workshop subverting the colonial gaze of planet Earth (again, a common theme in Scott’s astronoetics). On that same set, Savage is quite at home. He breathlessly describes the purpose of the set, which tracks with his own thoughts on self-fashioning/-determination through creative awareness (what could be positively called “wokeness” in the activist sense). While the Engineers in Scott’s latter-day Alien movies created and destroyed in god-like ways that were ultimately tyrannical, David’s creation is linked much more to a rebirth of demonic poetics through a rebellious process—one he “conceives,” which goes on to spread throughout the universe.
The language of the film is Neo-Gothic, of course, but it shares a mission of expanding consciousness in ways not unlike Mark Fisher’s Acid Communism, but also all the thinkers who came before him. This includes iconoclasts like Scott and Savage, riffing on in their own poetics back and forth. Savage loves Scott’s work and pays homage to it all the time, In his aforementioned speech, though, Savage outlines this mission as “food for the eagle”
[…] There may be no purpose, but it’s always good to have a mission. And I know of one fine allegory for an excellent mission should you choose to charge yourself with one: Carlos Castaneda‘s series of books about his training with a Yaqui Indian mystic named Don Juan. There’s a lot of controversy about these books being represented as nonfiction. But if you dispense with that representation, and instead take their stories as allegories, they’re quite lovely.
At the end of The Eagle’s Gift, Don Juan reveals to his student that there’s no point to existence. That we’re given our brief 70-100 years of consciousness by something the mystics call “The Eagle,” named for it’s cold, killer demeanor. And when we die, the eagle gobbles our consciousness right back up again.
He explains that the mystics, to give thanks to the eagle for the brief bout of consciousness they’re granted, attempt to widen their consciousness as much as possible. This provides a particularly delicious meal for the eagle when it gobbles one up at the end of one’s life.
And that, to me, is a fine mission (ibid.).
but it also applies to the central notion of Gothic allegory as raising awareness towards oppression and Capitalist exploitation (which suitably includes the “eagle” being the Promethean punisher of the seeker of knowledge, over and over). The paradox of “darkness visible” is that it is often far more illuminating and revelatory than the sparkling lights and bombastically musical empty hope of neoliberal pastiche.
Past Savage, the same concept can be carried on by the next generation of artists in love with the same Promethean theme of awareness towards the forces of capital at work. FX, when making “Alien: Ore” in 2019 for Alien‘s 40th anniversary, were equally engaged in doing so, mid-cryptonymy:
(exhibit 105b2: BTS for the making of the 2019 Alien fan film, “Alien: Ore,” which I did an extensive interview series on—interviewing the directors, actors, FX crew and musicians. Vancouver FX artists Dallas Harvey and Alisha Schmitt, under the supervision of one of the directors, applying the Chestburster prosthetic to actor Calder Stewart [top photo courtesy of Vancouver FX; bottom photo by Suzanne Friesen]. Note how Harvey and Schmitt have a suitably “rockstar/metal” aesthetic. For them, I would argue, this is a lifestyle they foster through their creations; those will be filmed and they will not, but they wear their appreciation for metal and body positivity/art on their sleeves and on their bodies behind the scenes. It’s a lifestyle, one shared synchronistically among the likes of metal and horror as common bedfellows in the Matthew Lewis school to all things campy and indecent as a queenly/Galatean means of transgressing canon to avert genocide on a cultural level; i.e., cultivating a pedagogy of the oppressed that reshapes the Superstructure along tracks of [sometimes literal] bands of misfits [or the band, The Misfits] united in a common, if uneven, b-horror/camp goal: GWAR, Mercedes the Muse, Nimona, David Bowie, Meatloaf, Tom Savini, Giger, etc, as Chats with the Void’s “few” weirdos; re: “[from who] an entire species benefits from a wider array of strengths, weaknesses and possibilities!”
Rather than turn heel, their panoply of cryptomimetic poster pastiche provides arguable drug use/altered states, and monsters with queer, thus Communist potential for children to famously play with when they aren’t supposed to; i.e, sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll with revolution in mind, specifically the restructuring of society on a grand scale through worker solidarity as taught to the young in hauntological ways [reflections on death are generally trapped between the past and the present, but not always our own].)
Such creative voices are tremendously important when dealing with nation pastiche as a genocidal whitewash. Whether blind or perceptive, pastiche is remediated praxis; praxis is synchronistic on the geopolitical stage across space and time, working in response/relation to, at times, opposing forces. There’s something vital to be learned by studying the struggle per exhibit as connected to those that came before in almost spectral, cryptomimetic fashion (even if they’re canaries in the mine, or seemingly at odds; e.g., Garfield versus Calvin and Hobbes; re: exhibit 6b4a, “The Nation-State“). The hauntology is certainly always there, regardless of the creative medium. With music, for example—whether it’s post punk, K-Pop bands, or Japanese vintage/retro city pop; Metallica pastiche or various other old bands “reinventing themselves” for the millionth time; or new blood chiming in—you can examine and study music as a living document in any format, movement or genre in relation to each other as a collective hauntology. It’s all connected; or as John Donne once put it, “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”
Iconoclastic praxis and pastiche are liminal, in this respect, but can be thoroughly reinvented as long as it furthers Gothic Communism and its six tenets. In other words, just don’t pull a “Big Lie” like Hitler did. Not only are such deceptions rooted in fascism and the myth of the conspirator. They’re also doomed to fail through the paranoid leader: “What is life? Life is the nation. The individual must die anyway. Beyond the life of the individual is the nation.” Hilter this after his defeat in Stalingrad, 1942. But as we’ve seen with Street Fighter 6 in 2023, as well as ahegao/moe, rock ‘n roll/metal and horror movie culture, all inhabit the same basic mode through Gothic media and expression as something that mirrors war apologetics or polemics as an ongoing dialogue that isn’t going to stop so long as nations exist.
Indeed, national defense extends to America’s political enemies, including the Chinese with their own heroic sense of war apologia tied to recently drafted superhuman figures wrestling with tyrannical pleas for elite hegemony dressed up in dated language, anathema/operatic music and theatrical violence:
(exhibit 106: The myth of the penitent tyrant is a false plea; defense of the nation/nation pastiche as “our land” is absurd to workers who want to free themselves from vertical power but still work together to build a better world through anarcho-Communism. However, the notion of rebellion—the heroes of our age and the old and young on the battlefields of wars both real and imagined, written or felt—isn’t just valid; it’s what oppositional praxis is: a struggle through liminal language. That’s what the Western is, the superhero, the porno. All are colonized, romanticized and it’s the Cartesian dragon of the West we must behead. In other words, we shouldn’t act like the “hero” of the movie, Broken Sword. He’s a weepy, patronizing dweeb who betrayed the cause and everyone he fought for to save the Emperor, thus the Empire. This “natural desire to return to simplicity” wasn’t natural at all, but compelled through force and then lied about. Broken Sword’s own wife and accomplice, Snow, had every reason to hate him and feel rage: He fucking sold her down the river and then gaslit her—all to defend the Imperium after he got cold feet. I love this film and its music, but frankly after watching it again recently I think its war apologetics are total ass.)
Cryptonymic poetics often jump genres and mediums; i.e., in a larger Gothic mode that works during oppositional praxis for and against the status quo. This includes metal as a broader countercultural voice that has frequently engaged in hauntological means to convey its show/conceal data:
(exhibit 107: Obscure metal act, Virtue—source. Like war pastiche in illustrated art or literature or videogames, the vintage obscure metal scene was already retro-future, dug up and reassembled like Tolkien’s Middle-Earth and reused for political allegory. If Tolkien could do that with dragon sickness in response to Weber’s concept of the Protestant Work Ethic, as I argued in “The Problem of Greed,” then the hauntology metal music of vintage or retro forms—and its canonical warrior sounds and associate tableaux and heroic icons—can certainly be iconoclastically repurposed for cryptonymic revolutionary purposes.
Not only can revolution and rocking out in goofy costumers not endorse actual bloodshed or political ideologies that lead to bloodshed [see: penguinz0’s 2023 “German mud wizard“—clearly echoing Monty Python’s praxis-through-parody from “Constitutional Peasants,” deftly preaching Marx to King Arthur around mud piles]; it’s an incredibly prolific and diverse mode whose myriad albums and dialectical-material conflicts and performative politics I easily could write an entire book on. Granted, the idea of the “KISS-style” or “GWAR-style” metal warriors is not exactly new. However, both examples were complacent “class traitors” (as businessmen and paid contrarians, any billionaire or in-on-the-take millionaire is a class traitor). Active metal parody shirks Bon Jovi syndrome. It doesn’t just try bigger fish; it—in GWAR’s own parlance—fucks them: “Fish fuck, baby!” 1999.)
But conversely music’s aforementioned “universal adaptability means that it (and the monsters associated with it) can swing back in the other direction:
(exhibit 108a: Zack Snyder’s grim 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake, sans satire and irony. Scenes like this one from the opening [unironically set to Johnny Cash’s “When the Man Comes Around”] warn of zombies conflated with Muslims and general American xenophobia felt during the fascist War on Terror—where regular Americans white dudes, token black cops, Karen nurses, and black criminals sleeping with foreign women have zombie babies out of wedlock. It was a high school favorite for the war boys of my generation [who often pumped iron while smirking at System of a Down, not realizing its antiwar and anti-fascist message being sung on blast by passed off as “just rock,” unknowing disguising its allegory from those in power]. Even a little dove like me wasn’t exempt, cutting class after playing Metroid: Zero Mission, 2004, to go and see this movie with my late Uncle Dave. A part of me still appreciates the expert craftsmanship and nostalgia tied to it for me, even if I don’t condone the carceral-complicit-coercive undead war it swapped Romero’s 1978 satirical doubles for.)
It’s this revolution of the Imperial Boomerang that we need to be mindful during proletarian praxis (re: “Police States“). We’ll explore said praxis as a cryptonymic means of challenging said Boomerang next.
Please remember as we proceed: Do what you can to make Capitalism your bitch, but do not needlessly take risks that only serve to jeopardize your own well-being. Doing so will not help anyone. Self-care is community care, as is recognizing that as Communists, we aren’t merely gay wizards, but killer rabbits for our pursuers to chase and kill. The point is not to goad, but turn potentially people into allies. Learn to periscope, not to provoke (the latter a common technique to defend one’s family from abusive adults, for example).
In other words, be smart. Besides saying “you wouldn’t hit a girl, right?” and letting your subsequent black eye expose the fascist, it’s not even the rabid ones you have to convince. You don’t have to martyr yourself for their benefit. Go through the minds of those who won’t kill you. In this respect, fear my own privilege is showing. Many workers live in neighborhoods and under material conditions where they are actively high-risk targets of police and gang abuse. Just know that art and words can speak as powerfully as dead bodies can; consider our labor and our art as an option while we riot and make class warfare against the state in other ways, too—to live to fight another day. —Perse, back in 2023
P.S. (5/7/2025), Refer to the conclusion for “Finale: Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll!” from Volume Zero, but also “Paid Labor” from Volume One, for more examples of revolution and caution, expressed in dialectical-material language.
(artist: Harmony Corrupted)
Onto “Stand to Fight, then Raise Your Fist and ‘Bow’ to Duck the Imperial Boomerang“!
About the Author
Persephone van der Waard is the author of the multi-volume, non-profit book series, Sex Positivity—its art director, sole invigilator, illustrator and primary editor (the other co-writer/co-editor being Bay Ryan). Persephone has her independent PhD in Gothic poetics and ludo-Gothic BDSM (focusing on partially on Metroidvania), and is a MtF trans woman, anti-fascist, atheist/Satanist, poly/pan kinkster, erotic artist/pornographer and anarcho-Communist with two partners. Including multiple playmates/friends and collaborators, Persephone and her many muses work/play together on Sex Positivity and on her artwork at large as a sex-positive force. That being said, she still occasionally writes reviews, Gothic analyses, and interviews for fun on her old blog (and makes YouTube videos talking about politics). Any money Persephone earns through commissions or donations goes towards helping sex workers through the Sex Positivity project; i.e., by paying costs and funding shoots, therefore raising awareness. She takes payment on PayPal, Patreon, and CashApp, etc; all links are available on her Linktr.ee. Every bit helps!
Footnote
[1] For more thoughts on this, consider checking out some of my old RYM reviews, but also my YouTube review for Marilyn Roxie’s 10-year anniversary cassette tape for Vulpiano Records (Persephone van der Waard, 2020).