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Authors: John Buchanan
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The Third Part
34. "Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,- Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness." -Herman Melville, Moby Dick.
I didn't see much of Jake over the next few months. He was a man possessed. He spent his time driving from town to town applying to sperm banks. Originally it was just him and James. Eventually though he had new accomplices. He recruited from Coxx, from college, from bars he'd drop into on his travels. All of them converted by his belief that the gay gene needed to be protected.
The gay man was becoming endangered due to his own success.
Eventually Jake himself stopped donating, he was just too busy, the operation had been too much of a success. Now he coordinated the operation from home. The house had become even more frenetic than it was on the night of the party. There was a constant stream of people in and out. Such a gathering of gay men. Such a perfect pick up spot, potentially. But to the best of my knowledge it never became that.
The seriousness one felt on entering Jake's house, Jake's control room, was palpable. His zeal seemed to have infected all around him. He encouraged everyone who arrived not to waste their seed in idle sex. All of the sperm needed to be preserved for use in the great endeavour.
Jake also tried to maintain high levels of secrecy. Apparently sperm banks don't like having donors who frequent many clinics. If there is a mutation in your genes it could lead to it being spread over a much larger population than otherwise would have been the case. Which, indeed, was the whole point Jake was trying to achieve.
I would not have been aware of the operation myself had I not dropped in on Jake uninvited. It had been a month since we got back from the prison. I didn't know exactly where we stood. But I felt we were friends and at least had that to fall back on. Besides, he was the only social outlet I now had for the gay side of my life.
On arriving he was unsurprised to see me. He barely noticed me as he fielded some calls, tapped away on his laptop and smoked with his usual vengeful purpose. James was just sitting watching television, he raised his hand in a friendly hello, smiled and then returned to doing just that.
Completely distracted, Jake communicated his plan to me in a broken monologue, interrupted by phone calls from which I was able to garner enough information to put together the big picture. When he asked if I wanted to join in I immediately said no. The thought of spending my time on roadtrips with young gay men was appealing, but I felt a bit insulted. To Jake our two months together may have been just a time filler, but to me it was my first experience of a proper relationship, or something like it. I expected to be treated a bit better than a pawn in his little game. And in thinking this I realised I was in danger of becoming a shrill person.
Before leaving I did impart a little advice. Perhaps to impress Jake by showing I could still be useful, perhaps to prove to myself I need not be that shrill guy. I
34. "Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,- Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness." -Herman Melville, Moby Dick.
I didn't see much of Jake over the next few months. He was a man possessed. He spent his time driving from town to town applying to sperm banks. Originally it was just him and James. Eventually though he had new accomplices. He recruited from Coxx, from college, from bars he'd drop into on his travels. All of them converted by his belief that the gay gene needed to be protected.
The gay man was becoming endangered due to his own success.
Eventually Jake himself stopped donating, he was just too busy, the operation had been too much of a success. Now he coordinated the operation from home. The house had become even more frenetic than it was on the night of the party. There was a constant stream of people in and out. Such a gathering of gay men. Such a perfect pick up spot, potentially. But to the best of my knowledge it never became that.
The seriousness one felt on entering Jake's house, Jake's control room, was palpable. His zeal seemed to have infected all around him. He encouraged everyone who arrived not to waste their seed in idle sex. All of the sperm needed to be preserved for use in the great endeavour.
Jake also tried to maintain high levels of secrecy. Apparently sperm banks don't like having donors who frequent many clinics. If there is a mutation in your genes it could lead to it being spread over a much larger population than otherwise would have been the case. Which, indeed, was the whole point Jake was trying to achieve.
I would not have been aware of the operation myself had I not dropped in on Jake uninvited. It had been a month since we got back from the prison. I didn't know exactly where we stood. But I felt we were friends and at least had that to fall back on. Besides, he was the only social outlet I now had for the gay side of my life.
On arriving he was unsurprised to see me. He barely noticed me as he fielded some calls, tapped away on his laptop and smoked with his usual vengeful purpose. James was just sitting watching television, he raised his hand in a friendly hello, smiled and then returned to doing just that.
Completely distracted, Jake communicated his plan to me in a broken monologue, interrupted by phone calls from which I was able to garner enough information to put together the big picture. When he asked if I wanted to join in I immediately said no. The thought of spending my time on roadtrips with young gay men was appealing, but I felt a bit insulted. To Jake our two months together may have been just a time filler, but to me it was my first experience of a proper relationship, or something like it. I expected to be treated a bit better than a pawn in his little game. And in thinking this I realised I was in danger of becoming a shrill person.
Before leaving I did impart a little advice. Perhaps to impress Jake by showing I could still be useful, perhaps to prove to myself I need not be that shrill guy. I
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