(an Internet column by Lori Gluck)

Hi and welcome to my introductory column on what I'm calling Generation Sex. This column will appear exclusively through Alternative-X and, I hope, will stir up all kinds of discussion on what's happening to our global culture in sexual terms. Since this is MY column, these terms will be my own which is another way of saying that many times I'll go out of my way to define sexuality on MY OWN terms. These terms and their definitions are subject to change at any given nanosecond, which is what the sexual impulse is all about, that is, forever-changing subjects and/or subjectivities interpenetrating the collective-flux of all the virtual realities that layer our global culture. As your friendly linguistic dominatrix, I'll give you all I've got, but if this sort of writing doesn't interest you, you can always go back to the banalities of the status quo and I wish you good luck.

My intention in creating this column is to be at once funny, theoretical, practical, therapeutic, fictional and eschatological, in essence developing a free bodyware program whose potential is not necessarily founded on the principles of exploiting the cyberspace marketplace but in generating heated interest in the way we use these virtual realities that permeate our consciousness to reinvent our sexuality. One re-occurring theme will be disembodiment, that is, how we use language and networking skills to sexualize the marketplace and funnel desire into images and general capital formation.

I will often resort to fictionalized representations of figurative objects to further delineate my observations. That means that this monthly column will consist of adult subject matter so that you can get a taste of my lingua-juices. In this, my first column, I will introduce to you my best friend, Rrose Selavy (she calls herself this because she is great admirer of the 20th century artist Marcel Duchamp who invented the name "Rrose Selavy" based off a pun in French, i.e. eros, cest la vie, in effect saying, "eros, that's life"). Rrose, prototypical art-theory slut that she is, says that Duchamp was obsessed with womanhood and that she too, being both female and bisexual, is obsessed with womanhood and is interested in exploring the feminization of Being, whether that Being be located in a body with female or male genitals attached to it.

"But Being, that ultimate sewer of life, is really just a fabrication, right?", she continues, as I let the tape keep running, "I mean, come on Lori, what is all this talk about what I want to be or she's just being a bitch or he's being a complete asshole. Do people really want to be? I'd say no, not really. They want to blow Being away. And what better way to blow Being away, especially when you're alive, than by experiencing the ultimate in sexual sensation---the orgasm. I live for my orgasms."

And Rrose will take those orgasms any way she can get them. She's constantly telling me her stories about anonymous sexual encounters or continued sexual encounters with a virtual bevy of men and women who she sees in terms of their sexual quotient.

"Right, sexual quotient," she explains, "this is the result of the total mass of human flesh divided by the amount of time I have to play with it all!" Her wonderful, full laugh, displayed as a sound-effect coming out of her world-class smile and rrose-red lips, makes my own heart tingle with the wit of her aural embrace. If I sound a little affectionate in my description of her I can assure you it's not accidental. I want you all to know exactly how I feel about her and others who pass through this virtual column. If I love someone, if I'm sexually attracted to them for some weird reason I have no control over, if I'm repulsed by them or feel violent toward them, I want you to know, and I will not hold back in this column because this is a free space where the publisher of Alt-X, Mark Amerika, has given me carte blanche to do my thing.

Rrose was the first woman I ever slept with. Sure, I've had some strange yearnings in my thirtysomething years on this planet, many of them involving some odd sexual encounters that my mind kept fantasizing about (although nothing like Rrose whose wild imagination has taught me a lot), so I will occasionally take a trip back into the past for a replay of what went down (sexually) when I least expected it. I will detail some of these experiences periodically throughout this column, but for this opening column I want to highlight Rrose, whom I dedicate everything to, since she was the first real babe to show me the way toward a hyper-eroticized feminization of my psyche which could be experienced on many different levels, not just physical.

Which brings me to an important point. If you're reading this column to get your Forum or Hustler jollies then go somewhere else. I'm NOT into formulaic soft-porn situationism. YES, there will be times when my language will get carried away by the excitement of the writing-moment, but what I'm after here is what journalists used to call honest-reporting. Of course, there is no such thing as honest-reporting anymore (if there ever was), and even if there was, it rarely had to do with people's sexual relationships with each other.

I hope that by sharing some of the thoughts and experiences of my network of contacts (as well as myself), this Generation Sex column will influence you to be more open with what's on your mind too. I keep thinking that if we need to get in touch with our bodily desires, that we need to actively pursue these desires as if they were our own, not created by some MTV advertisement that says in order to be loved we have to buy a particular product.

I'm starting to sound like Rrose again.