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LEVI VAN GE
VENUS (2019) video coming soon It's only since 2010 that the authentic Venus of Willendorf has been displayed for public. She was better off with a stunt double, back when an imposter faced the tumultuous crowd for her. When she was safely preserved in the archives of the museum, maybe in a box, dark, silent, without strange homo sapiens with strange smooth tablets blinding her eyes with their flashy lights. Of course she can't move. She is frozen, still, for she is made of stone. Of course she cannot scream, she doesn't even have a face, let alone organs to produce a sound loud enough to penetrate the highly secured glass. She is helpless. I'm pretty sure she's dead. With all the probing and poking, silencing and oppressing, duplicating and decontextualizing and generalizing of her identity, of her essence, how could her existence have withstood? Surviving the ravages of time is one thing, seemingly the most important, but she couldn't have anticipated the bombarding of bastard replications she would have to compete with. All trying to murder her original identity. Rape, mutilate, murder. How could this figurine, only 11 centimeters in height and deprived of all her liberty, oppose clones that are 10 times larger than her, 100 times larger than her. Copies with faces, copies that can move, can speak, can dance. Reproductions that are softer, more vibrant, bigger breasts, bigger vagina, white smile, wink Emoji. Imitations that are made of flesh. And even when people care enough to come visit her in her glass prison, do they greet her because of her beauty, the way her creator has intended? Or is it the promise of unmistakable reality, which is a sensation on its own. Is it the fact that she is, in fact, real? And how can she believe this to be true when there are so many better than her, larger than her, more beautiful than her and, most of all, more real than her? Is it her fault that she feels worthless? The other day an American couple entered her space, seemingly excited to see her, which excited her as well. But at the view of her body, of her size, of her reality, the woman said disappointedly to her partner; "I thought she would be bigger." Venus thought (for she couldn't speak, but she would have screamed if she had lips, a tongue and teeth): "YES OF COURSE I LOOK SMALL IF YOU PRINT ME LIFE SIZE ON BANNERS AND PLACE THEM THROUGH THE CITY!! OF COURSE I LOOK PALE WHEN YOU PHOTOSHOP ALL MY PICTURES TO BE MORE COLOURFUL AND VIBRANT!! OF COURSE I AM DULL WHEN YOU PUT A MASCOTTE REPLICA OF ME IN FRONT OF THE MUSEUM THAT DOES FORTNITE DANCES AND WAVES TO THE TOURISTS!! OF COURSE I BECOME WORTHLESS IF YOU DUPLICATE AND DUPLICATE AND DUPLICATE ME UNTIL THERE ARE MORE COPIES OF ME FLOATING THROUGH WIFI WAVES, STORED IN ONLINE DATABASES, FLICKERING ON IPHONE SCREENS, THAN ATOMS IN MY BODY!! MY NAMESAKE IS WORTHLESS, FOR YOU RUINED MY IMAGE. 1.010.000 HITS WHEN YOU GOOGLE MY NAME. THAT IS MORE THAN MY AGE, AND I'M 30 FUCKING THOUSAND YEARS OLD YOU FUCKING BITCH!!" But she stood there silently, frozen, deaf, blind and faceless when the American couple left for the dinosaurs after taking one quick unfocused picture of her on Snapchat.