It’s a quote. I’ve taken it from Cindy Gallop. She even has a site about it. “IfWeRanTheWorld is a real-world experiment in tapping good intentions and turning them into tangible, do-able microactions that anyone and everyone can help you to do. All of us can achieve more than one of us, and everything starts with a microaction.” This sounds like a reminder to a question that I’ve often asked myself: what shall I do with this lovely day?
I always thought that little things (one at a time) are powerful, that the Present counts more than anything because, you know, it’s the only chance that we’ve got: tinker with the present to see the ripples.
Words are powerful and trusting them makes things happen.
Three summers ago, I’ve embarked on a literary journey, traveling naked beyond space and time. It’s an imaginary one. Somehow like a little girl would dream of ponies and unicorns, just for adults. An etymology mark raised on my pink radar: did we really name the planets at random?, or had they been bearing their names since eons before? What if they have a history? What if our own history is a consequence of other worlds’ epic events?
Jodie Foster (Dr. Arroway) and the wise guy from “Contact” tell the smart asses from the government that “aliens don’t speak English.” In our naked journey beyond space and time, aliens speak Aramaic even if their given names are as Greek as Kronos. A race of giants that had lost their female peers, eons ago.
Laboring at the pimping chores, in a quest for giant pussies, we come to understand that Hebraic gods intermingle with Greek and even Norse mythology — after all they had shared a common history, back in the eons.
Walking in their shoes (it’s a metaphor because they are all nudists), seeing the world(s) through their eyes, brings a fresh perspective to the reader. Addressing gods in a religious fashion (setup in theatrical presentations) is old news, but interacting with them in the backstage (in their personal lives) is different. This book — “Astarte, The Adventure” — is non religious at heart (non-conformist if you wish) while dipping its feet into the troubled waters of politics (both on Venus and Earth, to name a few).
However, the ex-goddess of sex and war (Astarte) has a craving: to become a normal woman! To love and be loved. To shine and weep. To chit-chat with her earthly sisters (what if they look tiny as kittens from her thirty-four meters tall angle?).
Writing erotica on a sci-fi canvas, toying with history and politics, with physics and metaphysics, with sex and war, gods and daemons, is a way to play with paradigms. And what would be of this statement, “if we ran the world,” if not for this game of paradigms. Here’s a quote from “Astarte, The Adventure.”
Rebecca, I can’t read your mind. Would you be so kind telling me about this change. I wish to know.
“Since the Libertine Party has comfortably won the Presidential election in 2017, old school politics, balancing suspicion with confidence, fear with hope and faith with terror, have been replaced with the Zebra Culture…”
This name, zebra, comes from the African striped pony?
“Hah, hah, why compare the zebra to a pony and not to a horse, or a donkey?”
Every girl dreams of ponies…
“I, for one, dreamed of riding Zündapps. Very well, the French Zebra Culture partitions the national territory in four wearable zones: textile free, textile optional, textile classic, burkah exclusive.”
Too much political slang for me…
“French citizens cast a vote, in every spring, on the acceptable summer fashion for their neighborhood or village. Direct democracy at its best. Most of France turned textile optional in 2018. Amazing! Religious conflicts lost their clout. Crime rates dropped spectacularly. Terrorists fled the country (those who attacked were swiftly annihilated by the tactic drones). When you analyze homeland security, you realize how easy it is to cure crime and terrorism by natural measures, local openness, backed up by deadly robots patrolling the skies. On a side note, burkah exlusive zones melted like ice in August because no man accepted to wear a burkah – in France, sexes are equal and exclusive means exclusive, no exceptions.”
I notice a slight reddish aura around the heads of my pussycats standing on the platform. All of them seem to become a bit more nervous, more alert?… Can’t really figure this out…
“No more grave and growing terror threats to France! We’ve managed to find a way of filtering freedom from tyranny. Did you know that Stalin used to release criminals from prisons on the streets, to kill simple citizens, just like this, at random!, aiming to heighten the public level of fear? The Libertine Party didn’t wish to copy Stalin… On the contrary! This party has indeed changed the face of politics: turning away from fear and embracing honesty, because nude people tend to be more honest with each other.”
Let me guess: this is a women-only party?
“No. There are also men in it… but most of the leadership is formed by women. The President of France is a woman now!”
Bit over excited, Yvonne exclaims: “If we ran the world… But we do, in France!”
Well, dear ladies, you remind me of four civilizations that flourished in what has become the Pegassus galaxy, billions of years ago. The men had ran them on the verge of extinction, from one war into another. This until the women decided to establish their own rulership. It was nice…
Against the current trend to write post-apocalyptic scenarios (bloody, gloomy, ruined, depressive), this book challenges with a pre-apocalyptic approach (at least two centuries of banquets, parties and freedom from clothes, diseases, aging, hunger and other means of censoring). Remember what were the Saturnalia celebrating? What if that era wasn’t in the past? What if it may be just around the corner?
This is the presentation of “Astarte, The Adventure” on Amazon — you may look inside to read the full first chapter plus part of the second, before you’ll decide to delve further in this brave nude world.
Many eons ago, inside a distant star, Astarte had birthed Lucifer out of her whims. Her haste and hesitation brought the null to reality. But she’s a nice girl. Only thirty-four meters tall. Just fit for the giant daemon Kronos – a prominent client of the paragalactic pimp Don (that’s my hubby). By what means are we going to transport Astarte from the core of her native star into the core of planet Saturn? What offspring will ensue from the union between Kronos and Astarte? How (and why) Astarte is sent to Earth, deep under the Richat Structure? What is the secret connection between the French Foreign Legion and the goddess of sex and war?
Find the answers to these questions when reading through this adventurous novel. This book is not about some gloomy end of days but about the beginning of new and sexier ones.