“The Expressionism is not a fashion. It is a worldview. More precisely, it is a perception of the senses, not of concepts.” Herwarth Walden

*

“Attention, attention, this is the Berlin Vox-Haus broadcasting station on a wavelength of 400 meters. Ladies and gentlemen, we hereby announce that, as of today, the entertainment radio service begins the wireless-telephone transmission of musical performances.” The first radio broadcast (October 29, 1923)

*

“The increasing acceleration of perception leads to a loss of reality.” Heiner Müller

Between Ecstasy and Redemption

Virgil is calling from Boston. Naked except for his shorts, he sits cross-legged in the lotus position on his hotel bed. Everything about him is will and passion, and now, as he looks into Alisa’s eyes, also overflowing love.

“My sweet one,” he complains. “You’re wearing too much.”

Immediately I slip out of my clothes until I am down to my underwear.

“My darling,” I tease blissfully, “is this better?”

“Much better.”

I know that look. It is his little invitation to play. So I kneel on our bed with my legs slightly apart and frame my breasts with my arms.

“Do you like me like this, my love?”

“You know the answer, sweetheart. But there’s still more to come.”

I offer him more and eventually can barely contain myself.

“Yes, there was already something much more useful in that. That form is working quite well now.”

His eyes sparkle with affectionate mischief, and at last I burst out laughing in relief. He enjoys my joy. My love for him once again makes me completely devoted, and we turn toward one another with pleasure, without posing. We desire each other. The zoom is on our faces; we look into each other’s eyes. I touch myself before his eyes. He touches himself before mine. I see him climax, and he sees me climax. It is like a promise.

“I can hardly wait until you are with me again,” I say.

That is not enough for him. I can see it—the hunger, the burning desire.

“Yes, I will stay with you,” I say solemnly.

He beams at me, and his happiness touches me like a hand.

The Light and the Underworld – A Scene from the Framing Narrative

This was no ordinary desire. It was an echo from a former life—or a promise offered by the future itself. A cosmic current of lust threatened to tear me apart ... I tell you the story as a dark modern fairy tale in which myths, desire, and intellectual obsession intertwine.

While the first daylight seeped hostilely through the cracks and imposed itself upon the partygoers exhausted from celebration, Malia remained in an almost transcendental state of intoxication. She wavered between ecstasy and redemption—still according to the agenda of a techno-dictatorship that exercised its power through the bodies and souls of the worn-out pilgrims. At last she withdrew to a lounge corner.

She curled up in a colossal armchair, built a hundred years ago for eternity. The exhalations of sweat-soaked skin and stale perfume underlay Malia’s reflections on the preceding hours. Then she heard his voice; Agravain had found her. The timbre alone was enough to make Malia realize that he was burning with desire.

The club had emptied out. Only a few absurdly extreme Mad-Max-style retro-regressives still drifted about on the dance floor. Agravain helped Malia to her feet and led her into a sacred silence. Only then did she notice how long she had gone without a moment of peace. Their bodies found one another in an eternal dialogue.

Agravain’s invocations penetrated Malia’s dreams. Gently she took his hand.

“Every touch, every kiss from you is a spell, and every ecstasy I owe to you, and every moment of surrender you inspire in me, is a manifestation of our shared power. We experience not only pleasure but the energy of the world itself—and I want more of it, more of what lies beyond the ordinary.”

Agravain smiled as never before. Reverence shone in his gaze.

“Malia, you possess the gift of rekindling the cosmic game,” he proclaimed as he simply transferred his strength to her.

“Thank you. I can feel the energies building within me,” Malia declared with equal simplicity.

“I am ready to prove to you that I am the creator whom you personally asked the universe to send you,” Agravain explained.

“Then I am the beloved you need in order to be titanic.”

Malia wanted to be both the light and the underworld. And no one understood that better than Agravain.