In that most raptorially antiponed, savorily reciprocal, pithily effectual manner with which, e.g., Hera and Io pleased Zeus and Zeus and Hera pleased Io, Hetairotopia’s true-bred novices point a constant pure bride onward, for instance, towards those sorts of noces “captionists more bigoted than I might call,” says Steen, “turpid abordages variés trop talentueusement ainsi que malproprement” (various lewd grapplings as indecent as they are impressive) — but then again, this ain’t your ordinary harum-scarum’s prostibulum!
It is a concept in obscuro, a mist-sprung cæpionic construct, a percept-layer’d visio nitida, rather, whose slender inmates, love-pursuant adepts, überorientalistische πορνεύτριας, debt-bonded ἐρωμένῐᾰ qui savent more plurifariously than your average amateur post-ivre leman whence le monde se provient, y odaliscas exultantes — proud ebriate courtesans, those ideal Hetairotopians! — revel rumbustiously in rapid (too veloce at times even, some might say) pursuits, protracted gambits, unrated proelia amatoria vel στρέψεις ἐρωτῐκαί, all such champion acts, once iterated probis nubilibus, serving to, like the aureate bond-stirpes of increate bints, produce the helispherical topoi (space, continua extensa)2 in which act and agent, patient y el icónico inspectator, live as proterastic cenobites, rude partners in Love’s tidy paroisse.3
Yet far from being some enrapt sailor’s veternostic, ponce-aided delirium post-sarracénique of or in some vast puterío de branlements portuaire bedighted en medio de una cruel odisea, Hetairotopia’s only derivative histrionic aspect noticeably deemed soothly and verily to spoil its otherwise plebeian patois, only derives from a theme in the ever-compliant œuvre sri-lankaisesque of a certain hoity-toity person, Valdimar de Proust-et-Binokurov,4 to wit, a certain tropical thirsting after a corrupt satori reached in abrupt Eros’ torrid taste pubentis fissurae between the windswept rondeurs baiting the thirsty nympholept on, I say, driving him to near repulsive madness.
For, yes, at livid ponderance ici, on postule un côté pic-à-soin, hypnoïde, sale: Hetairotopia’s vestal errantry avoids polite notions of comportment as much as it embraces l’ivresse par tota forma, the result being that the coiled panopticon’s ceinture ovale, prismatique, of rumpty-tumpty oneiroid salvific potlatches cannot fail, for instance, to transport a resident buxom harem-siren voluptuously into realms purveyed as richly in mind as in body (the syllepse-lover’s attirail [affairs] must properly, alas, be provided to the full extent of her own synapses’ tierra voltaica; as for the material, c’est fourbi prêté ständig pro re nata during each vestal-in-premurosità’s [VIP’s] moral tenure) — or, as certain inmates love purring into our disrobed ears, putting it as caesio and overtly pithy as possible, “Plus le corps attire, moins l’esprit rate sa volaille”.
That said, let’s hear more, in their own words — a bit unpretentious, perhaps, and even, at times, syncopial; more unverständlich arcane at others — about just how it is these lovely joyful inmates prove reflectively to themselves, and to us, the X of their praxis, the Y of their way, the Z of their denizenship here.
First Informant: “Ça se batifole d’aise, Hétaïrotopia,” R. Strīpuṃsa — lover, entrepreneur(e), entrancing epicene — reports, “du batifolâtre répit, ¿vos sabés?5 Ici on s’ébat, tiré du problème visant pour rien à maint pauvre (los términos no están picociertasiempre6 felices) qui a mis trop sur le mauvais cheval y por destino intenta pedir su borrachera por limosna — vete pureta! Per ejemplo, mi amor, conocí en pasito una tipa loca... Mais ici on se connaît. Copines et copains, coïncidons-nous tout à fait! Ça c’est pion onirique aussi, pa’ç’qu’ici, on a ton spectacle, on s’regarde partout, en biseau ou tout droit, en beau sproposito ou en peau triste, bordélique, et on s’ensconce ainsi potentiellement à l’infinie...”
Second Informant: “I never put moral stock in any fantasy I’d prove loin-worthy enough to, until entering this ‘perfumed garden,’ ‘be a prostitute,’ so to speak, nor that it’d chavirer me postulancy-ward as an option, since, according to Marx’s dicta that ‘eine Art Prostitution genereller’7 is necessary to fully develop our social potential, spovy ordinary homespun ‘vert-railleur’ ‘clients,’ more purvadistically even than ‘servers,’ patola-titivated and pratisar-vestoled,8 need to burst pari passu with the in-house labor, resident putas, and visiting stereoptic connaisseurs, through various entr’employés grades of initiation avant one is piccolezzamente even allowed to toss a live tare, protéïsé load,” Hetairotopia’s Mr. Surmâle, spintré ouvrier viril, ponders, a toy vibrator enstiped usquam sensitivum, “into a live rump, erethismic conne, os aptificens, θένᾰρ θερμόν,9 intermammary sulcum, aisselle glabre ou velue parmi strong shoulders, popliteal vas post-irreptum, suprasternal prime-voûte, introflexion sub-armil, even post-auricular fossam. Right now, as you can see, I’m training to be able to partake of and in cette ‘lubricité à con spontané’ reported in bustante codice Sadeiano to be ‘la plus vive du monde.’”10
From among the various pert Lemno-Cybelian — all as adroitly open-visioned as poly-virtuous Polyhymnia and as avidly option-resolved as pointy-ringed Callirrhoe! — ladies Hetairotopia cloisters at prevalence within its modern — et revoilà! — sumptuous grounds (better paillarded than vestrī mōre lupānāris),11 we chose for our third and final (for the purposes of this reportage, at least) informant, an ever-at-the-ready person volitively coaxing from a sporty violin, a delightful sonate con picias picantes, nocionales, named, for the nonce, Octipasia di Norlia. “Soy Vepto-Sȑpane bride to tussle, to ‘par-tie var-sitie’ with, ¿no? I travel past resoluto — ¿gutsy? — peloton di ravissanti soldati over piny (sosnovïy) alti perdidos montes par virulentos senderos brutti, paurosi, que me conducen à toi, ¿no? scippato stirrer of my devoti loins, par, je veux dire lointain, pociechy, del oblys de Norlia, pivote strategico entre cuatro países [...]; travel to questo giardino płtsyovem donde cualquier estudiante pobre qui veut limer sa πόρνης avec sa pine, ‘O, coñito mio,’ il en soupire d’ébat trop coquin pour son jeune âge; salobre rentista pudrido subinde stupratore aparente; stupid obrero pensant, ‘Ici, compañero, tu vois ce que le point is: a concubine prostrated before each of us como una manceba por delante de un adinerado butter-spreading belle-lettrist;’ pédant(e) bourgeois(e) al contrario que piensa con cotizaciones más que coño-penis actividades — somos todas y todos iguales en la iniciación espontánea, somos todas y todos iguales en la inspección atolada as we make the spiral ascent in copious combinations y por tropas musicales up the ziggurat’s promiscuous gradus ad loca pithaulicos para que vorpal Steen, im rüstigen Stil avec sa cornemuse, pravlitsya-nos hasta que mi enchanted violino sprays all over the fingerboard, tunes I pertly play to drive insolent superamor-vibrations deep-truthed [sic: through?] your ‘animale’ esprits, tovarišč.”12
She proceeds to play, voire induire nos part-bêtifiants esprits elato-variabiles en hypnose larvidiotique, so to speak, enabling us to see from within the glistening chrysalis of our own soon to be newly reborn consciousnesses, as it were, the sole idea Hetairotopia claims as its real private solution to a vastspread routine bedevilment of the field: How to impulsar, venerar, promover, tenir lupas ab, coram, cum, atque absque rapto cliente?