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Editorial It's longer than before. And thicker. You've got it in your hands just inches from your face and you are wondering what to do with it. Then a mind-numbing advertising slogan runs through your brain, "Just do it." Go ahead. Let yourself be penetrated by something intellectual for a change. Read on. It's not porn. It's not erotica. It’s much deeper than you might expect. You’re not one of those readers who skims over the story to get to the juicy bits, are you? You won’t just think that this is a sick anthology of pornographic fantasies from a bunch of perverted degenerates, will you? If you have a copy of The Wheneverly in your hands, it means that you are an intelligent reader who can see through the hard surface to catch a glimpse of something beautiful, something eternally true. So, go on. What are you afraid of? Do you think that you might not be the same person afterwards? That you will feel different? That you won't be able to look at people the same way as they pass you in the street? That you will never be able to enjoy the circus again? Or take a plane without wondering what your neighbor is thinking? Or visit your favorite web sites? Or come home to your wife? Or watch a concert? Or even look at your mother? Is fear keeping you from turning the page? Are you afraid of what will become of you? Or are you more concerned about what people will think when they find out that you have been reading The Wheneverly's Beyond Erotica edition? Deep down, though, you know that you're going to read it. And probably not just once. The pages will soften over the years from being stuffed under your pillow. You will know every word, every story by heart. You will make Cassoulet for your friends and have to excuse yourself momentarily from the table because you will know, and perhaps they won't. And it will all have started on this page. Your journey into the world Beyond Erotica which has been around you for years without your noticing it. And here it is, just waiting for you to lick your finger and turn the page… R.B. |