Ifrit. (weatherfront) wrote in ae_match,

"This should give you a dim view of human potential"

Author: weatherfront
Team: Romance
Prompt: Fear
Word count: 429
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: a lot of bullshit, Werner Herzog
Notes: This is an attempt to mimic Werner Herzog's style of documentary narration-- or rather, it is an attempt to mimic somebody mimicking Werner Herzog's documentary style >___> so please imagine that this entire thing is read in this voice, and that makes things... marginally better... maybe...? Oh my god have I ever even actually watched a Werner Herzog documentary sldkhgla

[excerpt from Werner Herzog's documentary about the dreamshare profession, commissioned as a retrospective to be shown at a gala dinner celebrating the fifth anniversary of the first known instance of mindheist]

...Thus it becomes clear, even to the uninitiated observer, that the world of shared dreaming is a rejection of civilization itself. It is technology made glorious in the service of chaos. Logic is denounced. Reason is only a distant memory. Each dream, an anarchist's dream.

[cut to the outside of a bathroom stall; through a half-opened door, we see two men standing, engaged in vigorous copulation]

And yet, even in the belly of this ruthless beast, we find some evidence of residual human tenderness. Primordial pleasure is not the sole objective of this act. The sexual organ, penetrating deep into the body of another, inevitably calls to mind the other great penetrator; the needle.

[INS: quick shot of an anonymous arm, a length of tubing secured to it by means of surgical tape]

There is no god in shared dreaming. There is no religion, save for that of the needle. These dreamers have journeyed back to the ancient stone phallus, erecting in its stead a hollow metal cousin. The ghost of modernity. For once, the medium is not the message.

[onscreen, the fornication grows frenzied, the walls of the bathroom stall shaking. Sounds of unrestrained moaning, rising in pitch and volume until, with a final gasp, it subsides]

In this way, the phallus becomes the needle becomes the phallus. The signifier becomes the signified becomes the signifier. The ouroborus returns. Is all entropy? Have we come untethered in a cooling universe, with only the ashes of our ancestors to feed upon?

[shuddering and heaving for breath, the figures onscreen reach for each other, claiming each others' mouths in a voracious kiss. F.O. to black as NAR continues]

As we have for time immemorial, we find our peace in faith. In the time of the needle as god, the phallus too is a stairway to heaven. Sexual congress becomes an act of devotion. Trust between man and man, as inviolable as a covenant.

Fear not the age of pandemonium, they seem to say. The ouroborus is very small after all, a very tiny thing, and it will fit comfortably on the fourth finger of your left hand. The proverbial water is fine.

[regrettably, owing to a lack of agreement on the date, time, place, name, purpose, and guest list of the event, the retrospective gala has been indefinitely postponed]
Tags: fanfic, prompt: fear, team romance
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