Book Sample: The Road to Hell: Summoning the Whore, Ourselves (opening and part one – Showing Jadis’ Face while Doubling Them)

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 Undead Module) is out now (9/6/2024)! 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.

The Road to Hell; or, Summoning the Whore, Ourselves (and Other Considerations of the Faustian Bargain vis-à-vis the Participants)

Just like a churchyard shadow creeping after me

It’s only there to terrify my mind, a black swan keeps haunting me

Just like a churchyard shadow, there’s nothing left to see

It’s only there to terrify my mind, a black swan keeps haunting me (source).

Dave Mustaine; “Black Swan,” from Megadeth’s United Abominations (2006)

Picking up where “Summoning Demons (re: Faust and Radcliffe)” left off…

This section takes the path least/most traveled, depending on how you look at it: the road to Hell, examining such runaways as lubricated by a polity of facilitators occupying the same sphere—the angel and the demon, and the virgin and the whore—however they manifest.

Again, we’re starting with canonical variants having evolved out of the chaos of the Middle Ages into the Enlightenment and beyond towards 20th and 21st century variants; i.e., Smile and Evil Dead as built on top of those warring forebears, the war continuing in our own lives, as it did with my ex, Jadis, raping my mind and—through financial abuse—using me for sex and other things. We’ll explore an early history of the demonic—from The Testament of Solomon and Hammer of Witches to Malleus Maleficarum, or Hammer of Witches, and De Praestigiis Daemonum (On the Tricks of Demons) and its appendix, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum (False Monarchy of Demons)—then dive into some notes on Radcliffe and Lewis feeding into the more half-real and recent forms, outlined above and below.

This essentially divides in two basic parts, then:

  • “Going Mask Off: Showing Jadis’ Face While Doubling Them” (included in this post): Gives food for thought about demons as much being real people as fictional ones, during Gothic poetics. The example I give—and doing so in the Radcliffean spirit of demasking bad guys—is my ex and former abuser, Jadis. We discuss my act of doing so not to marshal violence against them, but to learn from the abuse they caused to camp and subvert, hence prevent future harm, on a systemic level; i.e., while making our own media as haunted by said abuse, doing so as a demonic act of thinking critically (through art and performance) about other people that speaks to abuse affecting oppressed groups unevenly (to summon demons is to make them; to make them is to think critically when the resulting parody and pastiche become perceptive).
  • “Dark Shadows: The Origins of Demonic Persecution and Camp; or, Applying My Education (from School and Jadis) to Smile, Evil Dead and More”: Considers demonology’s early roots, subsequent Neo-Gothic period, and 20th/21st century revivals, while also going over the praxial concerns of canonical torture vs exquisite “torture”; i.e., by how we can take things further than Radcliffe did while still being aware of the risks she ultimately took herself.

The basic idea is to introduce ideas we can reify in our own lives, but explore simultaneously where those ideas came from and how we can use them during oppositional praxis/the cryptonymy process reversing abjection to double our foes and ourselves, mid-calculated risk! There’s no canon without camp; keeping with the simulacrum, the canon haunts camp even when transformed into a relatively safe version of itself. This isn’t us speaking out, alone, but protecting ourselves, too; i.e., if you’re abused, tell someone, but make sure it’s someone you trust, or that your method of performance protects you if there’s no one to trust.

Sadly, when you’re playing with fire in a man’s world—are the fire in man’s world/the thing those in the Man Box pimp (male or not)—nothing is ever truly safe. From Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex to Walpole’s Mysterious Mother (1768), much of the ancient world and echoes of the ancient world (which Nazis are) fixate on, and tell through, rape play and death theatre, as well as various taboos, fetishes and clichés; i.e., Radcliffe was Austen’s precursor and thought more about marrying monsters (or being abducted by them) than Austen—a marriage junkie herself though never married—did (all her villains start with “W” for some reason [e.g., Willoughby and Wickham] and she basically put men and their violence [e.g., duels, Colonel Brandon vs Willoughby] in the periphery). The best way to protect ourselves during the replication and chaos of fascism mirroring us in bad faith, then, is like these ladies; i.e., by reading the room and putting our ear to the ground—acclimating to the cryptomimetic uncanny in ways we can demonically seize and control: by recreating and reenacting it on the same shared stages infamous psychomachic divisions and liminalities!

In other words, Gothic Communism is a mirror game. All war is based on deception, including class war. This means that revolution is theatre, which isn’t strictly on or off stage, and populated by demons in a dualistic sense. All of them lie to tell truth for different purposes (for workers or the state), the function determined by dialectical-material context. That’s easy enough to parse, after the fact. But how do you do it when you’re being gaslit, and the performance is both ongoing and dictated by socio-material forces designed to conceal themselves? How do you separate the wheat from the chaff when the wheat looks and sounds like the chaff—when you look at yourself and see an alien looking back you that you both fear and want to be, and which speaks through dogwhistle, DARVO, obscurantism and subterfuge? By taking control of the Aegis, of course! Learn from the best, then beat them at their own game!

Going Mask-Off: Showing Jadis’ Face while Doubling Them

“And if I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling kids!”

every Scooby Doo villain ever (1969)

To summon the whore to expose abuse is, to some extent, to unmask them while copying them into a harmless version we can learn to mirror and make trouble with (to wage class war). Jadis is the “strict” demon we’ll be working with, and we’ll unmask them, in just a second.

First though, some food for thought, followed by a painful-joyous and necessary note about my own succubus who seduced and raped me, Jadis. So often, the theft of souls and their eventual redemption happens in the same poetic spheres, onstage and off, with doubles of the same harmful leeches leeching back (why be a lame detective when you could be a necromancer?):

Demons prey on others as a matter of exchange; in doing so, they operate through the basic idea that people are not gods, but guided by human, thus animal impulses. In theological, but also Gothically poetic terms, they are the gap between things that “God” denies and relegates to the underworld, save that Hell is all around us. So while Perdition and Purgatory are places of torment and boredom, not unlike Hell, “Hell” is also classically an absence of grace (one Protestants address the reprobate nature of through a “holy” work ethic).

It’s also where demons bourgeois and proletarian call home (and which I prefer to say instead of “good and bad,” to be a good Marxist), and whose liminalities assume an infinite number of forms and roads to Hell; i.e., the presence of demons being a presence of Hell and absence of God/grace, yet whose grave danger doubles God’s own human fakeries in a pointed inversion of earthly existence and afterlife, but also eternal damnation as a state of eye-opening punishment through darkness visible—with interpreting God and canon being a Protestant device likewise available to demons living under God’s sphere of influence: a road to Hell, thus temptation of a post-capitalist order in pre-capitalist language by thinking about the socio-material world in the usual poetic arguments along the Gothic’s half-real, trendy bad echo oscillating between canon and camp.

To that, God and canon take away workers’ ability to create, and limit it to bourgeois binarization/privatization. “God” per the Abrahamic religions, then, is just an extrasecular/post-Schism way of arguing for capital regulating desire from a canonical standpoint, using Gothic poetics; “Satan” and demons, a Miltonic and Satanic way of resisting that while inside the state of exception (outside of God’s grace, but not his settler-colonial territories): forbidden fruit, and the feeling of darkness and Gothic fakeries by canonizers playing God and—hopelessly swayed by Capitalist Realism—find it easier to imagine the end of the world in God’s absence haunted by dark forces, than it is to imagine a world without God/capital. Gothic canon becomes another almanac of torture chambers to populate with ghosts of the counterfeit furthering abjection/policing nature as non-white, non-Christian, non-GNC whore: “You weak pathetic fools! I’ve come for your souls!” / “I don’t think so!”

When “Caesar” is at your door, it’s time to survive, solidarize, and speak out (Persephone van der Waard’s “Survive, Solidarize, Speak Out,” 2024), or die trying. And while revolution is a slum, it’s also a party made with cool trash (from pure schlock to Sontag’s true camp and everything in between; re: Persephone van der Waard’s “My Least Favorite Horror Movies?” 2020) that also serves as a disguise. Yet so often, “soul” is a canonical argument for “grace,” thus ignorance, whose violation bad actors will happily exploit in hauntological defense of capital from “degenerate” enemies within; i.e., by exploiting those running away from home (because home is bad beneath the surface) in search of the Numinous. For every one of us, there’s ten of them; who’ll tire first? There’s only one way to find out. Put your money where your mouths are! Put on your masks, and pull theirs off! Break the fetish cop’s monopoly (the duality of mil spec, torture porn, heavy metal, etc, out of the ’70s and ’80s into the present)!

This brings us, once more, to Jadis—a person not without means (at least according to my admittedly limited intelligence, at this point), thus someone I unmask here, Scooby-Doo-style, with some degree of risk (especially since Donald Trump is now president[1]). Whatever hells they visit upon me, should they try to, this step towards my own Hell is one that decolonizes their awful notions of such things; i.e., they were the first TERF/SWERF I encountered, in person, and the primary motivating factor for writing Sex Positivity as a series (which started with the intent to discuss TERFs and not only why they suck, but how they as witch cops look like witches policing their own kind, next page): Jadis was a traitor who raped me (by my definitions of the word; see: “A Note about Rape“) but also a Great Destroyer I could evoke to achieve a palliative-Numinous effect during ludo-Gothic BDSM! With opera—with sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll (all the stuff that people like)—revolutions live and die on love; it’s why the state tries to monopolize such things.

In short, with Trump now elected and people like Elon Musk literally doing a Nazi salute (a Roman hauntological act) for Trump’s inauguration (Hasanabi’s “Did Elon Just…” 2025), it’s a hell of a time to be brave, but exactly the time to be brave; i.e., Nazis are scared of everything, so give ’em something to fear—a parody of themselves, but also a way of speaking out, thus fighting back in ways that confuse their aggression and redirect it. Silence is genocide, but you can shout loudly in ways the enemy doesn’t recognize using the cryptonymy process to reverse abjection despite them furthering it. We never want to hesitate or question fighting Nazis (while also prioritizing our own safety by fighting back) because that’s how they get inside and pry compromise out of those they’ll only later betray anyways; re: “I’m altering the conditions of our arrangement. Pray I do not alter them further!” But power doesn’t flow one way and we can reverse said flow no matter how “permanently” stuck in the mud things seem.

In short, there’s a time to watch movies, and a time to have the adventure for real, but this still allows for a curious walking of the tightrope, all the same; i.e., relative to games, exile and pushing for something better than what the elite shove down our throats: singing up at their awful food with something delicious. Valor! “Let man’s petty nations tear themselves apart! My land’s only borders lie around my heart!” (ABBAtalk’s “Anthem from Chess The Musical (Tommy Körberg) Polar Studios original 1984 Benny“). Sing “For Somewhere That’s Green!” (Broadwaycom’s “Jinkx Monsoon Performs…“), or of the Dire Straights’ “Romeo and Juliet” (1980) and similar “come hither and fuck me” clothes, music, performance art, all rolled into one. We’re fighting for what we believe in as being one in the same, a form of demonic expression our enemies will occupy in bad faith.

That’s musicals, of course; the Gothic as an operatic, multimedia mode of danger disco suitably revives the barbarian past in the neoliberal era to control feelings concerning its continued abuses happening in the present—i.e., we return to past trauma revived “in small,” hence in ways we can control by duplicating it. That’s what I’m going to be doing when analyzing said past, and Jadis—someone I have repeatedly described in the past as someone I have history with—is an excellent place to start: a hellish jubilee!

[model and photographer: Jadis and Persephone van der Waard]

Please note: As of writing and posting this piece onto my website, I am showing Jadis’ uncensored face in photographs. That being said, any photos of Jadis provided here show no explicit pornographic nudity of them, nor imagery where we engage in sexual activities with them naked on screen or even in the same room[2]; i.e., any exhibits of them where I am credited as “photographer” (above) aren’t from a handheld camera, but two web cameras—theirs and mine. As I shall reiterate deeper in this section, my doing so is a continuation of my ongoing testimony of their abuse against me during our relationship; i.e., not to sexualize them, but expose them after our relationship ended as a sexual abuser who took advantage of me in multiple ways.

My decision to gradually show more of Jadis—and to the degree to which I feel comfortable in doing so—has occurred slowly as I have healed and felt increasingly ready to speak about these things more openly. It isn’t to invite violence against them, but to learn from what they did to raise awareness about rape/domestic abuse for future praxis among survivors of abuse [strength in numbers and intelligence, babes]. Do not attack them; just know what they did and don’t do it to others. Please refer to the footnote for additional context, links and other information. —Perse

(exhibit 45c2b2: Rapists are masters of disguise, often hiding in plain sight; here is me finally demasking mine. Moderates decay into Nazis. And like Nazis, the real Jadis/my abuser was a massive dork who—apart from routinely abusing my mind to extort my body as succubae classically do—loved Mortal Kombat memes, KFMDM, Tool music videos, He-Man and ninjas, Industrial music, dark ’90s media in general, and rough sex/demonic BDSM [cryptomimetic echoes of their inner “war pig” but also their own abusive mother].

As such, this is as much a photo of them [and their sinister moral poverty] in real life/the flesh versus the simulacrum [shadow/likeness] of them we’ll be discussing in this section for more campy purposes; i.e., the former a demon that haunts my waking moments, the latter a demon I summon for my own survivor’s complicated reasons: the real Jadis summoned the moon to torment me, which I escaped by not only physically distancing myself from Jadis the person, but in creating likenesses of them I could control/”torture” myself with! Jadis was someone who understood the whore’s awesome power, and used it to enthrall me; surviving their holocaust, I made what was best about them into a dark “magic man” effigy [Jadis is genderfluid] that I could conjure up whenever I feel like: “Ravish me, stupid!”

[models and artist: Jadis and Persephone van der Waard, both models; Persephone as artist]

To that, my double doesn’t have the blind, terrifying “death in your eyes” look that Jadis themselves did, but something thrilling that awakens in me new feelings of life [through Radcliffe and Lewis’ terror and horror] that I can “ride the lightning out” until my tremors subside; i.e., on par with the electrifying solo from Annihilator’s “Death in Your Eyes” [2009]. Paradoxically this became not something to avoid, but ride as often as I liked—to take my scars and activate something that, through the pain of surviving rape, pregnancy and loss that Jadis had exacted upon me, became their accidental gift I could relish not simply until the end of my days, but give to all of you vis-à-vis ludo-Gothic BDSM and Gothic Communism.

In short, Communism—from Shelley to Marx to me—is a byproduct of rape, specifically the fascist raping the worker until they radicalize. As such, Jadis thought they were only taking from me when they—in poetic terms, but also materially through fiscal brute force—forced themselves upon me, but any exchange is a give and take, and I used what was given to eclipse and expose them through my rape child. I was the moon, bitch [or “Angry Sun” from Mario 3]! You are but a pale imitation of the Medusa, a little bougie fake whoring yourself for the Man! No TERFs allowed!

Do you think I spent years of my life dwelling and ruminating for mere indulgence? To let shame rule me even though it lives in my battered aching heart to this very day? No, I birthed Sex Positivity precisely because I suffered at the hands of false idols, forever shattering my idea of a safe home and leading me to run off into strange zones to find a sense of balance I would never have, in stillness: demonic wanderlust for the slut whose trauma lives in her body. A world without order or reason is classically a meaningless one, but the beauty of total liberation from state predation [thus fascism] is one where we become free from profit [thus genocide and rape] while being able to make our own meaning among ourselves and the natural-material world. How the tables turn!

To that, learn from my mistakes[3] and creative successes [not just one child, but a serial litter of them, my little trans Dutch girl’s (excuse the expression) “Irish twin” demon babies—less outbreeding a rival army and more passing our revenge along to the next generation] to go and make your own demons passing the demon of Communism forwards; i.e., Sex Positivity was begot from rape, and I couldn’t have written it [and its conception of the palliative Numinous or ludo-Gothic BDSM] without some degree of tragedy possessing me to not simply wake up in the middle of the night afraid for my own life, but to “rip ‘n tear until it is done!” I couldn’t have, any more than Mary Wollstonecraft junior could have written Frankenstein and turned into Mary Shelley without eloping with Percy and getting knocked up, first [a choice complicated by her mother’s death giving birth to her, and God knows what else]—a decision I implore some degree of caution regarding: not senseless risk, flying into danger headlong, but calculated risk as learned by me having fucked up royally so you don’t have to.

But also, learn from my paradoxical joys, during the painful [re]conception, birth and afterbirth; i.e., the fact that it wasn’t all bad, just messy and intense: the sex was good, and Jadis was funny [all qualities I took and put in my book to spite them, but also to love their better half that eventually gave into greed and pride]! God they made me laugh and cum like mad! But they also terrified me and couldn’t control themselves/gave us both more than we agreed to; re: we had a contract, one they didn’t follow while dragging me through a portal into their idea of Hell as they envisioned it—where they were master/victim and I their unwilling slave/abuser! What I say is the truth, insofar as the historical events are concerned, but it nonetheless revives in/mixes with Gothic poetics’ shadows and lies; e.g., Jadis wasn’t a black knight, as much as I wanted them to be. Instead, the truth of them was far more banal:

Jadis was always a person at war with themselves/ruled by their past. In short, they were kinder when they were poor/only began to change once their father died and they inherited a small fortune/dividends [extra emphasis on “small,” but it was enough to immediately change our lives during Covid: to get a new car and home at the drop of a hat and still be able to live comfortably for the rest of our lives]. Faced with that, Jadis’ desires for assimilation and dominion over a partner they could control [“the devil you know” and all that] began to surface—i.e., they had an empty room they could build whatever they wanted inside; instead of making a world together with me, they chose to push me out and orchestrate their ex, Tim, moving in with us [which originally was my idea, but one Jadis gently encouraged by constantly prodding me to mend fences with a former victim they presented as having abused Jadis first; i.e., Jadis was always the only victim].

Due to visual similarities unfolding mid-relationship, though, rape is always a matter of context under dialectical-material scrutiny. Jadis’ and my courtship, being like many others were and are, started through sex. I showed them mine and they showed me theirs [theirs not shown for obvious legal reasons]:

 

[artist: Persephone van der Waard] 

We didn’t just like what we saw, but played a lot online [about five weeks straight] before they swooped in on their chariot to escort me from Michigan to Florida. But this was a process that involved larger world events [Covid], personal frustrations on both our sides [our exes/recent separations], and bad decisions on my part wanting to salvage my present circumstances by ignoring in Jadis what I—and my hot piece of ass/puppy-like enthusiasm—sincerely thought she could fix through tender love and care, but also gobs and gobs of fresh hot cum: saying to them, “This is what I’m gonna give you!” and thinking they wanted me—body, heart and soul! “Best laid plans” ‘n all, this time the mouse being wrong [or the woman working the plow, I suppose].

In the meantime, my prospective partner to plow approved of my sexual appetite and clearly working goods. But the moment I “misbehaved” by calling them out, they traded me in for a different model—treating me like a faulty car or horse that had thrown a shoe/wouldn’t behave, chattelizing me but also the person who came before and after me [re: they went back to their ex]. I used to think the problem lay with me—that I was “somehow” broken or didn’t deserve love—but in truth, while we both damaged, they used theirs to abuse me. And so I discovered that it not only feels good to bare it all and tell my story to the larger world; but it feels empowering to do it repeatedly as part of the code I’m constantly writing in these volumes!

Hindsight is 20/20. Yet, if Volume Three [the first book I wrote, but have yet to publish as of writing this] was me flirting with the idea of exposing Jadis, and the Undead Module was me telling my story about Jadis in full to begin learning from it, then this section you’re reading now—the Demon Module side of my ongoing testimony—is the logical follow-through of that painful healing process after laying Jadis to rest: strapping myself to the cross by digging their fat zombie ass back up, or in more demonic language, summoning back to the mortal plane to trot out my show pony duplicate of what well-and-truly made my life from May 2020 to February 2022 a living hell! To it, we don’t owe anything to our abusers privately or publicly abusing us; they forgo that privilege the moment they harm us.

[artist: Persephone van der Waard] 

Creation is sacred and profane; you can’t have good without bad, babies without batter, and nothing good ever lasts, but neither does anything bad. Instead, it’s a historical-material cycle, one where state and labor proponents dialectically-materially war to develop or abort Communism. Gothic Communism is Gothically mature and Capitalism is not. In turn, Gothic maturity is the ability to discuss difficult topics using Gothic poetics to achieve holistic, total perspective; re: even the situation I partially described, above, wasn’t all bad—and not to downplay my own rape at their hands, because it was bad—but two things can also be true at once, and good sex, creation [biological pregnancy or otherwise] and relationships need passion to work [insofar as they meet our needs beyond the basic material necessities]. It’s a paradox that abusers frequently exploit to stabilize and handle their prey until they have what they want from them.

Ergo, things with Jadis were incredibly bad but also incredibly good: one, because Jadis caught flies with honey, and two, because their subsequent piss and vinegar pushed me to meet Jericho, followed by Cuwu, and eventually Bay while producing my life’s work having lived a full life. A real Victor Frankenstein making me into the monster they wanted to control—but also Mephistopheles tempting a trans-woman Fausta—consider how Jadis had seduced me with a taste of the good stuff/fire of the gods, which I wanted after they’d “turned off the tap.”

In short, “I’d grown addicted to water” and desired its return! This ultimately backfired and I escaped Jadis’ hold on me—not for good, but enough to get out from under their thumb and build a new life in the desert of their Ozymandian hubris:

“Full life, full book,” so seize the day, lovelies! Yes, Jadis was little more than a robber baron aping the Man to rape me; yet, rape also isn’t a “win button” for the elite to terrorize victims into inaction, but something you can use to build the end of their line during the whore’s revenge [e.g., Morgana helping birth Mordred (through sex and magic) to castrate Arthur]. To it, reclaiming terror language needs to happen, and experimentation is vital to synthesizing demonic knowledge as something that survives as much between us as outside ourselves. So never let anyone discourage you from taking risks [within reason, of course]—and certainly never take anything given for granted/in blind faith: canon is meant to blind you and steal your dreams/power for the elite, but also their lapdogs like Jadis, the person, ultimately was—a real Cuntasaurus Rex. “‘Tis a shadow of a thought that I loved!” “Alas, poor Yorick!”

[artist: Jadis]

Beyond making myself feel good, I mention Jadis here because it showcases how the gaslight [and its rape] happen as much between media and people versus either in isolation; i.e., the state gaslights, gatekeeps, girl bosses strict mommy doms to pacify actual labor action trying to subvert canonical Gothic’s praxial inertia, and that’s exactly what Jadis did to me, but also what the demons in Smile and Evil Dead [from Hammer of Witches canonizing Beowulf onwards into the future] are also doing. It’s what Musk and Trump are doing. And so on.

If you feel yourself being tricked by such canonical worship, think of Jadis for a more earthbound perspective to ground you; i.e., they raped me, but also inspired me to survive them in ways I could salvage from their ample “corpse” [Jadis is alive and well, to my knowledge; our relationship is not]: “Mortal Kombaaaaaaaat! Uh-uh, uh, uh, uh, uh-uh, uh!” So do we camp the past to subvert it while having fun, and that means reviving its harmful aspects in fearsome-looking but ultimately harmless clones of themselves.

Eventually Jadis stopped caring about that—choosing instead to betray and harm me instead of actually being a good partner—but if ever there was anything good they showed me without harming me, it was that sex to overcome abuse can be fun. Eventually it just stopped being fun, with them; re: because they gradually started to abuse me. This abuse lasted for nearly two years, and it has taken just as long [and constant hard work] not merely to heal from it, but to turn that healing into something useful towards what Jadis hated more than anything else in the world: developing Communism. Every day afterwards has been a gift—one from me to all of you: my magic man! Ta-da!

[model and photographer: Jadis and Persephone van der Waard]

So forget “you have only to lose your chains!” Only with chains of our own devising—during mutual consent illustrated through informed labor action opposing state forces—can we truly free ourselves from the hellish state bondage and illusion that is Capitalist Realism: a Hell of our own hermeneutic, phenomenology and application, levitating in delicious convulsion and psychosexual “martyrdom” haunted by harm! It’s not an opiate, but forbidden sight attached to pleasure and pain hyphenated to not just survive those people and structures that harm us, but subvert and transform them to help us thrive, speaking to spite their machinations [to meet new mates who, in spite of our mutual weirdness, won’t harm us and vice versa]! Sweet apostacy, let’s proselytize!)

No one asks to be raped; but many rape victims camp their holocaust by putting “rape” in quotes while remembering past sacrifices they made/secret shames they wrestle with as society’s perpetual monstrous-feminine virgins/whores (a fact the Gothic hyphenates on the same surfaces, above). The way to survive the fash, thus the pimp is to break their monopoly on whores. This includes white moderates like Jadis.

“Demons,” like Lewis eating Ambrosio from inside-outside himself (and unmaking God’s Adam to wickedly and deliciously reverse Genesis) during the cryptonymy process, then, are as much us inside ourselves creating likenesses of old friends and enemies outside ourselves; re: my fashioning of Jadis to escape their real-life double, and one informed by a variety of texts we both grew up with. These interrelations, in turn, are entirely endless, and which we’ll examine a handful here, vis-à-vis Smile, Evil Dead, my ex Jadis (again), and other germane concepts; we’ll also discuss summoning them to subvert their potential beyond the state’s intended usage—i.e., in our own performative lands of excess and uncanny valleys of strange contrast hammering swords into ploughshares.

About that. Fascism doesn’t fight fair—is when Imperialism comes home to empire as something to defend from “us”; the world, as a system of exploitation, only “ends” when Nazis stop being Nazis and lay down their arms to dismantle the state with us against the elite. Until then, they conjure up their own “moons” to hunt us down with: warships of all kinds, size and shapes, onstage and off.

However false or real these are, they remain a performance we can decolonize on the same battlefields, be those on terra firma or up in the clouds overhead, the state of exception expanding into outer space (with Musk desperate to go to Mars for some reason). “And the moon rattles in the sky like a piece of angry candy…” With that bearing down on us, it’s normal to question our sanity in fighting something so stupidly big.

But the reality is, they only have what power you give them and you can only see such things in pieces while cutting them down to size. That happens in the day-to-day spheres the capitalist cannot control. He’s too big and fat, only waiting for a worldwide rebellion to come along and burst his bubble; i.e., colonies always have a built-in time limit with a lit fuse, and America is just another police state whose time is running out.

Lucas certainly loved his propaganda battles (above), but rebellion isn’t won by singular monomythic events advancing the rights of single groups (white straight boys); it’s a group effort that leads to gradual change that, sure enough, happens eventually all at once. So now’s the time to fight for that shifting of the tides! Run and change shape, become invisible to them! Steal their plans! Tire them out! Remind them all their power comes from what they steal, so cut off their supply! Infinite form, infinite capacity to affect change by leveraging labor and action against their giant machines needing us to play along to work. In denying them our blood, everything stops, giving us the power to negotiate the slings and arrows through asymmetrical warfare!

To that, next we’ll focus on not playing along during our own plays, doing several close-reads that outline the demonic history and theory we’re working with, here: to apply it to such ongoing battles of development, onstage and off!

Onwards to “Dark Shadows: The Origins of Demonic Persecution and Camp; or, Applying My Education (from School and Jadis) to Smile, Evil Dead and More“!


Footnotes

[1] When the wolf is loose—it helps to keep a few masks and buffers nearby. Become something they can’t attack/that others will defend from attack because they see it as human, not expendable.

[2] My side of the conversation was recorded in Michigan, which is a two-party state with an exception for participants. Or as Jeffery Koelzer of Varnum LLP explains: “Michigan is a two-party consent state, with an exception for recordings by conversation participants” (source). That being said, the point is moot given the conversations’ recordings occurred with Jadis’ consent and mine (for which I have their spoken consent on record; i.e., us discussing the recording process in detail while doing it and playing together). As I shall further explain, the image portions I am showing are not sexual, and provide additional context to the sexual abuse Jadis exacted upon me after said videos were taken.

To that, these exhibits are screencaps from previously recorded videos produced between us with their full knowledge and consent; i.e., the videos were recorded with their full permission, explicitly for me to keep for my personal enjoyment*: Jadis enjoyed knowing I had them, effectively making them homemade porn between two willing (and eager) participants. The screencaps used are before sexual activity takes place, with Jadis either having all of their clothes still on, or the nude portions of their body off camera; i.e., my showing of these recorded conversations is to prove that they occurred, not to demonstrate their total pornographic contents, which I refrain from showing in these exhibits (exceptions being towards myself as nude, solo, to demonstrate the erotic qualities of courtship that took place between us: what Jadis and I exchanged, prior to us moving in together).

*Jadis abused me repeatedly in ways I have explained in the past (re: “Escaping Jadis,” July 6th, 2024) and shall explain again, here. The context for these screencaps is to give vital background to what I am explaining, and to show my abuser more than I have previously done in earlier accounts. In short, I’m putting a face to the alias—my right as a victim outing that portion of my abuser as I see fit. My past accounts of abuse regarding them have been up since at least early 2023 (e.g., “You really do have a beautiful body”; source: “Sex Positivity versus Sex Coercion, or Gothic Communism: Manifesto,” modified from July 2022 to 11/4/2023) but expanding in 2024 to include censored images of Jadis’ body but not their face, and more detailed accounts of their abuse (source: “Transforming Our Zombie Selves,” June 27th, 2024).

Furthermore, the older samples cite even older media that has been online since before 2022 and includes uncensored images of Jadis’ face and real name (e.g., “Why I Submit,” February 19th, 2021), recordings of Jadis identifying themselves and their profession for the mic (e.g., “Dreadful Discourse, ep 1: What is the Gothic?” June 26th, 2020; timestamp: 0:35), me with my arm around them after they graduated from UF (source tweet, NicksMovInsight: May 6th, 2021). The point being, Jadis has known about my identifying writings of them since before we broke up (many of which they offered feedback on) being cited in my writings about them after we broke up calling them my abuser and then later still, my rapist. The rape claim has been active for over six months, and my claims of abuse for roughly two years. Not once has Jadis ever contacted me after February 14th, 2022, either to harass me or ask me to cease and desist.

To which, I reasoned back then and now, they know about the claims and ability for their name to be connected to the alias, but haven’t done anything about it; i.e., that it wouldn’t be especially difficult for anyone reading these publicly available accusations to follow the references back to their original, publicly available sources, thus to acquire: Jadis’ full name, where they went to school, what they look like, and ultimately what they did to me. This also includes publicly available Google Docs that detail their abuse not just cursorily but in vivid and extensive detail; re:  “Setting the Record Straight Again; Accounting My Ex’s Abuse of Me to Another Victim_August 30th, 2022” and “Setting the Record Straight; My Ex’s Abuse of Me: February 17th, 2022.”

Said documents have been up, live and unaltered, since their posting dates. Jadis has not once reached out to me to acknowledge them, but apart from blocking their Twitter main, I have made no effort to hide my work from them, either. I’ve even written about their abuse of me and other people and featured images of all of us together (e.g., Tim, with Jadis and I; exhibit 39a2b, “Escaping Jadis“) and Jadis still hasn’t done anything. I can only reason they either know they’re guilty and/or don’t care (and to my knowledge are still living with the other abused person; re: their former ex, “Tim,” who knows everything about Jadis [because I told them] and were with them longer than I was—over ten years, versus roughly two).

[3] Or “happy accidents,” as Bob Ross calls them.