Thracian C*nt and Laz’s Polar Sex Dome

3 06 2010

"I'm John Hannah and right now it's great being me!"

Spartacus:Blood and Sand is a delicious little bit of soft core porn and anime style violence which could so easily have been mindless trash were it not for the fun everyone involved is having. Not only do you get to see Xena:Warrior Princess’ amazonian tatties dominating oiled gladiators, or John Hannah demanding a slave girl fluff him but also the gloves are off with regards to colourful language. I’m pretty sure there is no latin equivalent of “cunt” but that hasn’t stopped the writers of Spartacus sprinkling c-bombs around like an Afghanistan peacekeeping mission.

As the series as gone on it has actually developed into quite an enthralling story with characters you do give a shit about so don’t think it is all tits, cocks and gallons of blood splattered around the arena. But the main hook for me is the profanic orgies, legions of nubile slave girls and oiled slices of man meat grinding away to the amusement of jaded plutocrats in togas. There hasn’t been this sort of Roman filth since the classic 1980s film “Caligula” which fed my teenage thirst for tits and minge back before the Internet. Bad guys always have the best parties.

Which brings me to something else I’m been reading about recently, colonising the polar wastes for fun and profit. I am tired of the crowded temperate regions, where every stretch of land is owned by three different people who have blood vendettas against each other dated back to the middle ages. I need to get away from all these doomed nations before the oil runs out and the shit really hits the fan. Thanks to Humanity’s mishandling of the planet, once hostile parts of world are opening up to habitation ,should there be any part of it left after the permafrost thaws. The far wastes of Russia,beyond Siberia where their version of the Wild West spluttered and stalled caught my eye. Exotic and barely explored, parts of the Russian Far East have a population density of less than one person per kilometre. Some of this beautiful and mysterious land are so remote there are no roads or railways connecting it. Mining villages and outposts of civilisation have been abandoned after the fall of Communism to the extremes, just waiting for some enterprising evil genius to set up a base of operations for his brave new world.

Roman Abramovich, the unshaven warlord of Chelsea FC once ran one of these far off tundral outposts ( Chukotka, the pointy end bit of Russia across from Palinland) so there’s plenty of money to be made out there. Only problem being Russians are very touchy about leasing their land to outsiders (even though they’ve barely exploited it, the drunken layabouts) and I would imagine there would be all sorts of bribes to pay to the mafia and Moscow. However,from the blogs I have read  the locals are a very cheery and friendly people, there’s something to be said to being out on the frontier of civilisation rather than crammed into a bitter and petty little island still riding on past glories and with no eye to the future.

But I don’t want to live in some tatty old metal shack dating back from the Gulags. No, I’ve been reading technical papers on giant inflatable domes, of the sort that will hopefully be used on the Moon should anyone aside from the Japanese decide to colonise it. Held up by the warm air inside these plastic bubbles the domes could be city sized affairs, idyllic and fertile enough to grow fields of wheat or hard drugs in the arctic soil. It would as self sufficient as possible so as to avoid contact with the increasingly insipid and moronic world beyond the taigan forests. Romanesque orgies such as those in Spartacus:Blood and Sand would take place in my heated arctic sex-dome but without the slavery and death, at least until replicants become a reality and with the advent of artificial life who is to say what the future will bring for those bold enough to chase it?

My Polar Sex Dome

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