How would you like it
卷一：欲之若何？
Inevitably there came a point at which I had to pause and ask myself: How would you like it? How would you like to be lying there on the autopsy table having the coroner slice you up into a variety of sexual aids? The femur bone makes a fine dildo. Intestines are natural prophylactics. The heart, that organ of romance, can be used as a four-chambered pocket pussy. Whatever remains of your body afterward can be filled with KY instead of embalming fluid — or vice versa, perhaps a horny little necro nymph will come along and leach the embalming fluid from your body to use as a "personal lubricant." Who knows? The possibilities are endless. Do you prefer your corpse to be a waste product or a sex object?
无可避免的时刻终于到来,我必须停下来询问自我:你意下如何?你喜欢躺在验尸台上,让检尸官一片片把你肢解成一堆性具么?腿骨是不错的假阳具.肠子是天然的避孕器.心脏,与浪漫有关的器官,能当成具有四个腔室的便携式***.你身体任何余下的组织能用K-Y-Jelly(庄程早期发布的全天然润滑液)而不是防腐香油来填满 – 或许相反,或许一个被激起性欲的不死林泽仙女会独自前来,偷取你身体里的防腐香油作为’私人润滑液’.谁知道呢?可能性是无穷无尽的.你是希望你的尸体变成无用的东西还是性工具?
When you put it that way, you would think that people would naturally prefer to be a sex object. After all, to say that your body becomes a waste product is to say that when you die you become excrement. The cadaver is a parody of you made out of shit. Who wants that? Wouldn't it be better to be a sex object? Your cerements become lingerie, you could do a striptease with your death shroud — and if you can't move or dance, eventually your shroud will rot away or be eaten by worms, so in that sense every cadaver ultimately becomes a stripper anyway. You could install a reverse periscope in your headstone so morbid voyeurs could come and ogle you. Sure, they'd leave cum stains on your grave marker, but it has to be better than decomposing in the ground like a human turd. You could even charge a quarter for each look through the periscope, and in your will you could stipulate what to do with the funds — maybe hire a man to scrape the sperm from your stone every spring.
当你想到那一步，你会认同人类很自然地宁可死后去当一具性器。毕竟，如果把你的身体变成废弃物，也就等于说它是一堆新陈代谢的垃圾。你的尸身是你糟糕至极的仿制品。谁会想要那玩意儿？难道做性工具不更好些？你的寿衣成为亵衣，你能穿着它来场脱衣秀－不能移动或跳舞，没关系，最终那块裹尸布会烂透的，所以任何尸体都会变成脱衣舞者。你大可在墓穴里安装一台倒置潜望镜，变态的过路人可以饥渴地窥视你。没错，他们会在你的墓碑上留一滩精斑，但总好过在泥土里烂成人渣。你甚至可收取每看一眼25美分的费用，而且凭喜好支配收入－比如在每年春季雇个人来从石头上擦掉精斑。
You would think that at least a few people would see how reasonable this is. Preferring to think of their remains as seductive rather than repulsive, they would take an open-minded attitude toward necrophiles coming to disturb their rest. Maybe they would even want to mark their graves so that necrophiles would know how to find them. An inscription might suffice, an epitaph that titillates like dirty talk. And yet for the necrophile it is a time-consuming task to read all the stones in a graveyard, especially in the dark, and oftentimes these inscriptions are eroded by rain and wind. A better solution might be to transform the gravestone itself into a powerful visual icon. For example, the tombstone of a necro-friendly man could be carved in the shape of an erect penis, and then his coffin could have a little padded hole in the bottom to facilitate a sick sort of sodomy. (Instead of a "glory hole" you could call it a "gory hole.")
相信有一部分人已经觉得这很合理了。人们希望自己的残余物是一种诱人而不是令人作呕的东西，这种心态可以使人心平气和地对待在身过后来骚扰他们的恋尸癖。或许，他们干脆盘算给自己的墓碑做个记号，好让恋尸癖们寻得到。一段墓志铭，一段挑逗且下流的墓志铭，大致是足够。但阅读墓地里所有的、往往被风吹雨打多年的墓碑，尤其是在漆黑的夜晚－这对辛劳的恋尸癖来说很是艰难。更好的办法也许是把墓碑本身变成某种强力的视觉标示。举个例子，一位对恋尸癖充满善意的男性，可以将墓碑雕刻成勃起的阴茎，在棺材底部留个带软和衬垫的洞眼，好方便某种比较病态的非正常性癖。（关于这种洞的叫法，”小洞血淋淋”gory hole，要好过”我洞我光荣”glory hole）
Opponents to this vision will no doubt argue that accommodating necrophiles would encourage sexual deviance and social malaise. And yet, might it not just be the reverse? Is it not possible that necro-friendly cadavers can serve the social good? Think of it. If you repress a sadistic individual, heonly gets worse — meaner, crueler, more vicious, to the point where he just might be headed down the road toward that ultimate act of sadism: murder. But what if you provide a release for his pent-up penchant? Send him to the cemetery to find necro-friendly graves. Let him put handcuffs on the dead and beat them senseless with whips. Who cares? He's not hurting anybody — and you might just be saving a life by giving him a stiff. And perhaps the same applies to deviants of every type. Let pedophiles molest the bodies of dead children. If they're really hardcore and want younger and younger flesh, give them the medical waste resulting from first-trimester abortions. Why not? It's not hurting anybody — and you just might perform a social good by draining off the evil.
对此观点持反对意见的人士会毫无悬念地质疑，恋尸癖堂而皇之的存在将助长性爱异常和社会疾害。但－是，事实就没可能朝反方向发展么？难道对恋尸癖充满友好的尸体们毫无促益社会的可能么？想想吧。如果你压抑一个具有虐待倾向的个体，他只能变得更坏－更狭隘更阴毒更残暴，也许就义无反顾地达到了虐待狂最后的归宿：杀人。但倘若你释放他－释放那纠结在内心的强烈渴望，情况会如何？带他去墓地吧，去找寻愿意待见恋尸癖的墓穴吧；让他铐上死人的手吧，鞭打他们无知觉的尸体吧。介意？谁会？他没有伤害任何人－你给他一具尸体，倒可能正在拯救一条生命。而这一点或许适用于任何类型的反常人类：让loli控对孩童的尸体上下其手吧；如果他们真的够劲爆，渴望年轻，再年轻一点的肉体，那就给他们三个月内胎儿流产手术的副产品吧。不要？为何？没人被伤害－你吸干了邪恶，倒可能正在改良社会。
Here again the shocked and appalled will raise their voices in protest. It's not a matter of physically hurting the dead, they will say, but of inflicting emotional wounds on the living, the lovedones, the survivors and heirs. Who wants to think of a guy in leather pants beating grandma's cadaver with a whip and a dog chain? Even if there's no heaven and granny doesn't know the first thing about it, it's still upsetting for the rest of us to contemplate. Certainly this is a valid objection, and yet you have to remember: you can't prevent it anyway. What are you going to do — stand watch on granny's grave? Bury her in an assault-proof coffin? About the best you can hope for is that the necrophile might respect something like the sexual equivalent of a living will. Specify how you would or wouldn't like your body to be utilized when you're gone. If you're lucky, the necrophile will be sensitive enough to respect your last wishes. Maybe he'll refrain from tying you up and giving you forty lashes, if that's what you don't want. On the other hand, maybe he'll wipe his ass with your will and whip your remains with a cat-o'-nine-tails. At that point, there's not much you can do about it — unless you were buried alive, but that's even more unpleasant than a posthumous flogging.
惊骇的人会再次提声抗议。他们说，问题不在于物理上侵犯死者的身体，而在于感情上冒犯生者－那些怀着爱的，那些失去死者但活着、作为死者的后代的－的痛处。谁愿意想象有人穿着皮裤用鞭子和狗链抽丫死掉的奶奶？即便天堂不存在，而且死掉的奶奶不知道这一切，这终究让其他人想想就不爽。确实无疑，这是个很义正词严的反方观点，不过你可别忘了：不管怎么样，这种事没办法防范。你想干嘛－整天看着你奶奶的墓地？把她用装甲棺材埋起来？你能衷心希望的最好情况是，那位恋尸癖是尊重一些东西的，比如某个鲜活意志的性平等：具体一点就是当你逝后你愿意或不愿意让你的身体以何种方式被使用。如果你走运，那位恋尸癖足够感性，就会尊重你的遗志，克己复礼，而不是把你捆起来抽他个一鞭一条痕－你不喜欢的话。如果你不走运，恋尸癖大人可能就亮出屁股嘲笑你的意愿，并拿出九尾鞭招呼你的身体了。就此来看，你办法不多－除非被活埋，但那比死后挨抽更令人不快。
How, then, would I like it? Would it bother me to think of my body having sex without me? Or to imagine my ass giving pleasure when I'm gone? In a way, this is a funny question for a necrophile to pose himself. A pedophile cannot become a child, a shoe fetishist cannot become a shoe, but a necrophile can and does flip over to the other side. Eventually — nay, inevitably — he becomes the object of his own weird brand of perversion: a dead body. So what then? What does the necrophile want done with his body? Of course the necrophile spends a lot of time contemplating death and therefore may have some variation on it that you wouldn't anticipate. He may not insist on being preserved in a pristine condition, for example, because he knows that a cadaver does not have to be a perfect but inert replica of a living body in order to be exploited and enjoyed. You could cook a severed limb and eat it as part of an erotic game, much the same as bored suburban couples lick whipped cream off each other's genitalia. It may not be outrageous hardcore cadaver-fucking, but is it any less an act of necrophilia?
现在，我扪心自问，这样好么？设想我的身体在我不存在时性交的情形，或想象我的屁股在我死后给人乐子，这会不会让我烦恼？对于恋尸癖来说，把自己设身处地于这样的问题，以某种方式来看是有趣的：一个恋童癖不能变成儿童，一个恋鞋癖不能变成鞋子，可恋尸癖能而且真正地成为另一端的东西。最终－不如说，不可抗拒地－他变成那个东西，那个他的变态倾向的扭曲特征所关怀的目标：一具死尸。那么接下来如何？恋尸癖会想对自己的尸体做些什么？恋尸癖们自然会耗费很多时间来思索冥界，会有很多你不可预见的关于死亡的奇思妙想。譬如，他也许并不坚持把尸体的原始状况保存起来，因为他明白一具尸体并不是一个活生生的人体的完美复制，而是僵死的复刻品，为的是让人探索和享用。你可以切一条肢体煮来吃并把它当作一种艳情游戏的组成部分，就像城郊那些百无聊赖的情侣们用舌头给对方的生殖器清理蛋奶沫。恋尸癖对自己的尸体所干的事情未必是疯狂劲爆的大乱肏，但这难道丝毫有负于恋尸癖之名了吗？
After thinking about it, I have decided I want to be cremated — not because I want to deprive other necrophiles of my body, since that would be hypocritical. Rather, I would like to have a tombstone where people could come to pay tribute to me. And at that site, I would like to have my ashes in a dispenser of some kind, like a bubblegum machine. And from that dispenser I would like my lovedones, my survivors and heirs, my fans and followers, as well as random passersby and genealogists of the future, to take a thimbleful of ashes and sprinkle them inside their underwear. I'm particularly thinking of girls here, so that my ashes would be disseminated in panties of all kinds — cotton, silk, and satin — pink, blue, and cream. Every vagina would be my grave, every clitoris my headstone, and by way of tribute perhaps you could even shave my epitaph into your pubic hair.
思量了这么些以后，我已经决定接受火葬了-我可不是存心要让别的恋尸癖得不到我的身体，否则我的信仰也实在太虚伪。事实上，我希望有个墓碑，人们能去那给我上上坟。在坟上，我要弄个类似泡泡糖自动贩卖机的东西来分发我的骨灰。我的情人们，后代们，继承人们，支持者和追随者们，一并算上过路人和未来的系谱学者们，我将荣幸地邀请你们从这个机器里拿一撮骨灰，撒进你们的内裤。尤其让我意淫不止的，是我的骨灰能进入各式各样的女性内裤-纯棉，丝绸，锦缎-粉红，蔚蓝，奶白。条条阴道做我坟，颗颗阴蒂竖我碑，若拜祭起兴，亦不妨镌我碑文于尔耻毛之上。
Christmas for the Sick
卷二：变态医师的圣诞节
At lunch I joined some doctors in a conference room. Decorations had been hung but it did not look particularly festive. Primping the room for Christmas was like using wrapping paper for a tourniquet or sewing up a wound with tinsel. It was good cheer misdirected. There were children dying of incurable diseases upstairs.
吃午饭的时候我跟着几个医生去了会议室。装饰品都挂上了，只是看起来不怎么有节日气氛。为圣诞打扮房间就像给压血带裹上纸或用金属丝缝合伤口。这被误导得太糟糕了。楼上，正有患了绝症的孩子慢慢死去。
Still, that didn't stop anyone from celebrating. There was turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce, and a few bottles of liquor to make merry. A trauma surgeon told a funny story about operating on a drunk driver in the emergency room. "There were reindeer on his boxer shorts," he said, making a joke about how all the deer were red-nosed from blood.
这依旧没有让任何人停止庆祝。有塞满填料和小红莓酱的火鸡，有几瓶叫人高兴的液体，还有一位创伤外科医生说了个关于给急诊室的酒后驾车司机做手术的笑话。“他短裤里有只驯鹿，”他说，接着开始取笑所有的驯鹿是如何被血染成红鼻子的。
注：红鼻子的驯鹿是一个非常有名的童话：
一个孩子天真的提问，启发父亲创作出了世界上最著名的图书品牌之一。
《鲁道夫》的故事
芝加哥十二月的夜晚，一个小女孩爬到父亲的大腿上，问了一个问题。这是小孩子出于好奇心提出的一个简单问题，却撕裂了父亲的心。
“爸爸，”四岁的女儿问道，“为什么我的妈咪和别人的妈咪不一样呢？”
罗伯特?梅的目光偷偷地扫过简陋的套间。沙发上躺着他年轻的妻子，正身受癌症的折磨。她卧床不起已经两年了。两年来，罗伯特所有的收入和积蓄都用来支付昂贵的医疗费了。可怕的苦难摧毁了两个成年人的生活。而现在，罗伯特猛地意识到，渐渐长大的女儿的幸福也岌岌可危了。他用手指梳理着女儿蓬松的头发，心中默默祈祷能给女儿一个满意的回答。
罗伯特太清楚“与别人不同”的含义了。从小他就发育不良，出于孩子无邪的残忍，伙伴们常常把这个骨瘦如柴的小不点儿气得掉眼泪。直到1926年他大学毕业后，还总是被误认为是哪个员工的弟弟。成年后他的生活也不如意，很多同学毕业后得到了优越的工作，而罗伯特只是一家邮购公司的平庸的广告撰稿人。今年 33岁的他债台高筑，满面愁容。
然而，此刻的罗伯特并不知道，他给小女儿的回答将为他带来巨大的名誉和财富。这个回答也将给成千上万像女儿一样的小孩带去欢乐。在芝加哥的冬夜，这所破旧的房子里，罗伯特把女儿的头靠在自己的肩膀上，一边轻轻摇晃，一边讲述了下面的故事。
“从前有一只驯鹿名叫鲁道夫，它是这个世界上唯一长着大红鼻子的驯鹿。人们很自然地叫它红鼻子驯鹿鲁道夫。”罗伯特一边编造着鲁道夫的故事，一边绞尽脑汁想要传达给女儿这样的信息：即使某些生物被上帝创造得奇怪而异样，他们仍然拥有使他人快乐的神奇力量。
罗伯特解释说，鲁道夫为自己独一无二的鼻子感到非常难堪。其他的驯鹿都笑话它，就连自己的父母兄弟也因此被嘲笑。鲁道夫在自卑中挣扎。罗伯特继续道： “有一年的平安夜，圣诞老人正准备驾着四只健壮的驯鹿去给孩子们送礼物，这时，一场浓雾笼罩了大地，圣诞老人知道，在这样的天气里是无法找到任何烟囱的。”
“突然，鲁道夫出现了，它的红鼻子显得比任何时候都亮。圣诞老人立刻意识到他的难题解决了。他把鲁道夫领到雪橇前，套上缰绳，然后自己坐了进去。他们出发了！鲁道夫驮着圣诞老人安全地到达了每一根烟囱。不论雨雪风霜，什么都难不倒鲁道夫，因为它的亮鼻子像灯塔一样穿透了迷雾！”
“圣诞老人告诉大家，是鲁道夫拯救了那一年的圣诞节。于是，鲁道夫成了最有名的驯鹿，受到所有人的喜爱。他从前恨不得藏起来的羞耻的红鼻子，如今让每一只驯鹿羡慕不已。从此，鲁道夫平静而幸福地生活着……”
爸爸的故事讲完了，女儿开心地笑起来。以后的每天晚上，女儿都缠着爸爸把鲁道夫的故事再讲一遍，最后罗伯特在睡梦中都能把它背出来。
圣诞节快到了，他决定把这个童话改编成一首押韵的儿童诗歌，并配上插图，制成小画册送给女儿，当做给她的圣诞礼物。一晚又一晚，女儿入睡后，罗伯特便开始了工作，他把儿歌字斟句酌，并精心地绘制了插图。他决心给女儿一件像样的圣诞礼物，虽然他什么也买不起……就在罗伯特即将完成最后几笔时，悲惨的事情发生了。
他的妻子去世了。罗伯特的希望破灭了，如今女儿成了他最大的安慰。他强忍悲痛，在更加孤单冷清的房间里，含着泪水完成了画册。圣诞节的早上，女儿收到爸爸亲手制作的礼物时，高兴得欢蹦乱跳。
没过多久，公司组织了一个节日晚会。他不想去，但同事们再三邀请，他只好同意了。临走时，他顺便揣上了那本小画册，并在表演节目时当众朗读。起初，喧闹的人群一边听一边说笑，后来便逐渐安静下来，最后，人们情不自禁地报以热烈的掌声。那是在1938年。
截至1947年圣诞节，已有大约6百万册童话《鲁道夫》出版发行，一跃成为全球发行量最大的图书之一。经“鲁道夫”授权的产品在品种和数量上与日俱增，教育学家和历史学家们纷纷预测，《鲁道夫》将在圣诞传奇故事中占据永久的一席之地。
经历了那么多的坎坷和不幸，终于成功的罗伯特保持着一种平静的心态。每一年圣诞节，他都会心怀感激地回忆起女儿向他提问的那个夜晚。那一晚，他的故事是这样结尾的：虽然鲁道夫成了英雄，它仍然是一只害羞的驯鹿！
Everyone laughed. The radiologist on my right selected a bottle of mescal from the booze on the table and poured some into a clear plastic cup. He tilted the bottle toward me, grinning, and I held out my cup for a shot. We all must have been thinking the same thing — if the drunk driver's shorts were bloody, what had happened to his penis? — because a pediatrician started telling a story that had happened to him during his residency. A teenaged boy had been brought to the emergency room after trying to castrate himself. "Unfortunately," laughed the pediatrician, "he didn't understand that castration is not, in the technical sense, amputation."
所有人都笑了。我右边的一位放射线专家从桌上的酒堆里挑了一瓶龙舌兰，用一个干净的塑料杯倒了点。他吧瓶子朝我这斜了斜，露齿一笑，我便举起杯子接了一点酒。我们肯定想到了同一件事-如果醉酒司机的短裤鲜血淋漓，他的阴茎怎么了？-因为一位小儿科医生开始讲述在他实习期所亲历的一个故事。一个十多岁的男孩被抬到急诊室，因为之前他试着阉割自己。“不幸的是，”小儿科医生笑谈道“他不知道阉割从技术角度来讲并不是截肢。”
Anoncologist held out a bone from a turkey leg and let it drop into some cranberry sauce. "Did you reattach it?"
The pediatrician grimaced. "I couldn't. The boy's mother didn't bring it along. She couldn't bring herself to pick it up."
"She could have used a Pooper Scooper," said the radiologist.
"Or a pecker picker-upper," a male nurse suggested.
"Better yet," said theoncologist, picking the turkey bone out of the cranberry sauce, "she could have used shlong tongs to put it in a cock sock." He rolled the turkey bone inside a cocktail napkin and held it up.
"Does this lesson in gross anatomy amuse you?" asked the doctor to my left, a Brit by the name of Dr. Peterson. "Believe it or not, it's not unusual to see a patient who's tried to cut his member off. But Ionce had a man who did the opposite. He blew his whole body off."
一位肿瘤学家，从火鸡腿里抽出根骨头，然后任它跌进一滩小红梅酱。
“你把那玩意儿接回去了么？”
小儿科医生做了个诡异的表情。“我办不到。那男孩的妈妈没把那玩意儿一起带来，她觉得实在没办法去用手捡。”
“她完全可以用狗粪扒子的。”放射线专家这么说。
“或者用个带鸟嘴的长棍子。”一位男护理给出这么个建议。
“还有更好的，”那位肿瘤学家从红梅酱里抽出那根火鸡腿骨，“她其实该用阴茎夹把那东西放到短袜里。”然后把火鸡腿骨塞进一块鸡尾酒餐巾，旋转，举起。
“你们觉得这恶心的解剖学案例很好很欢乐是吧？”我左边的一位医生出声了，他叫Peterson，是个英国白日棍。“信，或者不信，碰上自断肢体的病人不算很离奇。但我曾处理过的一个男性干了完全相反的事情。他把整个儿身体都残了。”
I downed my shot of mescal. I could feel it burn in my throat. "What do you mean?"
"Back in London we had a car bombingonce — the IRA, you know. The emergency workers recovered all the body parts of all the victims, but we had a certain appendage that we couldn't account for. All the male bodies had their penises, but we had a penis that had no body."
我把手里的龙舌兰一口吞了，喉咙里火辣辣的。“你说具体点。”
“还在伦敦的时候，我和我同事接手过一桩汽车爆炸的案子-爱尔兰共和军干的，这组织大家都知道。紧急处理工们回收了所有死者的所有身体部分，但我们发现有一个部件，无法找出它的来源。所有男性尸体都有阴茎了，还是多出一个阴茎找不到尸体。”
"So it must have belonged to a female," I said. "A hermaphrodite, or a pre-op taking hormones." I do not know why I thought this was funny — was it the drink? — but I laughed and reached for the bottle of mescal to pour myself another shot.
Dr. Peterson was perfectly serious. "All the women had their genitalia as well."
“那这肯定是某个女性的，”我说。“双性人，或没有接受变性手术的男身女心。”我笑了，虽然不明白为什么觉得这好笑-是因为酒？-并拿过瓶子给自己续了一杯龙舌兰。
Peterson严肃得一塌糊涂。“所有的女性尸体都有生殖器。”
"Then where did it come from?" I asked, still holding the bottle in my hand. "There must have been another body. The emergency workers must have missed it."
"In the western world, there are never unrecovered remains. People always claim their dead."
"What if the bodies are mutilated beyond recognition?"
"We have very sophisticated identification techniques: dental records, fingerprints, DNA..."
"So where did this severed penis come from?"
"It couldonly have been the bomber."
"How so?" I burped, and the alcohol burned up into my mouth again.
"We hypothesized that the bomb exploded prematurely. The bomber's car must have hit a bump in the road and set off the bomb accidentally. He was probably carrying it on a plank or a board in his lap. The plank protected thatone area, and everything else was literally blown to smithereens."
"How come noone came forward to claim the — ?"
"The remains? Who would? And what would they do with it?"
“那么这究竟是哪跑出来的？”我问道，手中的酒瓶握着没放开。“一定另有个尸体，紧急处理工一定是漏了。”
“在西方世界，没被发现的肢体残余是不存在的。死者总会被确认。”
“要是尸体渣得无法辨识了呢？”
“我们的辨识技术是相当相当严密的：牙科记录，指纹，DNA……”
“那这断掉的阴茎是从哪来的？”
“只能是安炸弹的人。”
“怎么会？”我打了个嗝，喉咙再次被酒精熏得火辣辣的。
“我们的假设是炸弹在计划前爆炸了。恐怖分子的车可能撞了什么东西，使得炸弹被意外引爆。这炸弹也许放在一块板上，而且在恐怖分子的大腿上方，这块板保护了那一小块区域，其他部分全都炸成了渣。”
“那又为何没人来认领--？”
“认领残渣？谁会？他们认领去又能干什么？”
Just as I started to imagine a specimen jar full of formaldehyde, or perhapsone of those little coffins they put infants in, the radiologist reached in front of me. I was still holding the bottle of mescal in my hand. "If you're not going to pour," he said, "allow me." He took the bottle and, as he tipped it into my cup, the gusano slipped out. "The worm!" the radiologist hollered. "He's got the worm!" Soon the doctors were banging with their fists on the table and cheering rhythmically. "Eat it. Eat it. Eat it."
我正在幻想一个装满蚁醛的标本瓶，或者说那种专门用来放婴孩的小棺材，那瓶龙舌兰还在手中。那位放射线专家跑到我跟前：“如果你不打算倒，”他说，“请让我来。”他拿过瓶子给我倒酒，顺便倒出一条棛虫。“是蠕虫类！”放射线专家惊叫起来。“他赚了条虫子！”医生们立刻用拳头敲打桌子，有节奏地起哄：“吃了它，吃了它，吃了它。”
I watched the worm, a pinkish nub of flesh swirling in the alcohol, and thought of the bomber's remains. What would his survivors do with it? Bury it in a tiny grave the size of a beer bottle? Or would his widow keep it on the mantle in a jar of formaldehyde? And if so, would she ever be tempted to take it out and — well — in a moment of loneliness... After all, it was a genital, and in the final analysis there's not much you can do to guarantee the sanctity of your remains. "I'll just cremate myself," you say — but then some weirdo comes along to ejaculate in your urn and stir his semen into your ashes with a finger. For every type of cadaver, I thought, there must be a corresponding type of necrophile. No body is safe. Just because we cease to make active use of our sexual organs does not mean that others won't make a passive use of them. In death we become defenseless and, to necrophiles, irresistible. Every cadaver is a sex object, and in that sense the terrorist who blew off his body is a symbol of our common fate. In the end, we are all of us reduced to a dead genital.
I felt a nudge in the ribs. "Go ahead," said Dr. Peterson. "The gusano is not really a worm. It's a butterfly larva. Think of it as a thing with the potential for great beauty. Go ahead. Do it."
我看着那条虫子，好一个粉嫩色的肉瘤在酒精中徜徉，令我联想到安炸弹的人遗世独立的残余物。他活着的朋友们会怎么处理它呢？埋进一个啤酒瓶大小的袖珍墓穴？或是让他的遗孀把它浸泡在一个装满福尔马林液的瓶子里，并挂在斗篷上形影相吊？如果这样的话，她会不会受到内心的召唤取出这东西，并且-好吧-在某种孤单的情况下……不管怎么样，它曾是一个生殖器官，你想要确保你的残余物在最后冰洁玉清，但几乎无能为力。“我会把自己烧得干干净净，”你说-可某些怪叔叔会茕茕地来，孑孓地射，还拿手指把精液跟你的骨灰混得匀红点翠。对任何一种尸体，我思忖着，必然就有一种相对应的恋尸癖。没尸体是安全的。仅仅因为我们不再主动使用我们的性器不代表他人不会利用他们做一些被动态的事情。死亡使我们不设防，对恋尸癖来说，又是那么不可抗拒。每一具尸体都是性目标，以此看来，那个炸光全身的恐怖分子便是我们共同之宿命的象征。在最后，我们中的每一个都将蜕化成一具：死掉的生殖器。
我的肋部被人轻推了一肘子。“干吧，”Peterson说。“棛虫并不完全是虫子，它是蝴蝶的幼虫。想象这东西所具有的非凡之美的潜力，干吧，做吧。”
Hideous Desiderata
卷三：狰狞的欲念
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Love is blind.one man's goddess is another man's shrew. Everyone has sex appeal for someone, or many of us wouldn't be here... Platitudes! Beauty is relative, you say — but perhaps you should be cautious. Perhaps you have not really thought through the consequences of your words. Beauty is relative — right! Do you realize that that, if true, is a veritable abyss? Beauty is relative — but might it be so relative that some of us plunge right through to the very bottom and end up finding downright ugliness appealing?
美存于人的眼中。爱是盲目。对某个男人来说宛如天神的女性，对另一个却是村痞泼妇。每个人的性诱总能魅惑某个人，否则我们中的许多根本不可能出生……你说：陈腐之辞！美就是相对的—不过你可能应该谨慎些。你可能还没有真正参透你的言辞所导向的结局。美是相对的—但她会不会相对到那种地步，我们中的某些人将彻底坠入深渊的最底层，发觉彻头彻尾的丑陋也是一种性诱？
What I'm going to tell you about is the systematic reversal of my libido — or rather what I learned as a result of this reversal. Don't try this experiment at home.
我接下来要说给你听的，是我的性欲的系统化反常—也不如说是我从这种反常的结果中所学到的东西。别在家里做这种实践。
Like anyone else, I naturally wanted beauty — prettiness — loveliness — charm and allure made flesh. I lived in a culture indicted for its shallow worship of supermodels, beauty queens, starlets and cover girls — and I liked it. I thought it set a standard of gorgeousness by which everyone would do right to abide. In the most mundane advertisements for lipstick and eye shadow, with their pure white backgrounds and precise pictures of exotic hues, I saw a moral value — a lesson — an incitement to strive for excellence and perfection. The superficial world of appearances, I thought, was the product of a subterranean world of effort and drive. Beauty was relative not just to the person who beheld it, but to theone who produced it as well.
跟任何其他人一样，我生来想要美的东西—可以解构成--漂亮--可爱—迷人—诱人—的肉体。我所生活的文化指向了对超级名模、美丽女王、娱乐新星、封面女郎的肤浅崇拜—我也喜欢这个。我认为这设立了一种关于美艳的标准，每一个人都应该遵循。在大部分世俗的唇膏和眼影广告里，伴随着纯白底色的背景和艳丽色调的图案，我看到一条道德准绳—一门课程—一种向杰出和完美拼争的激励。我曾认为，关于外貌的表世界是某个里世界的努力和驱动所造就的。美不仅对于欣赏她的人是相对的，而且对于创造她的人也是相对的。
Accordingly, I took great personal pride in my appearance. I kept fit. I went to the gym. I swam especially, since I thought it more appealing to be lithe than to bulk up like a weightlifter. I went regularly to a nutritionist, a barber, and a masseuse. I dressed in a manner that was fashionable yet classic. I avoided fads and casual wear in favor of well-made, rather expensive suits. I was — I admit it — rather dashing — a man about town if not a downright cad.
于是，我非常非常注重在外表上体现自我尊严。我保持健美的体型。我坚持去健身。我特意去游泳，因为我觉得柔软的身体比举重运动员那样的肌***子更吸引人。我定期去见营养学家，美容师和按摩师。我的穿着时尚又不失典雅。我不爱流行和随意的衣服，更偏好做工考究，非常昂贵的正装。我曾是—我得坦白—一个非常浮华的人—一个假如不算无赖也算是城里人的男人。
I had my way with women. There was no need to call beauty relative in the presence of my lady friends. Any man would have slobberingly agreed that my women were ravishing. But let me tell you a little secret. The man married to the most beautiful woman in the world? He's bored of her. B-o-r-e-d — bored. He cheats on her with crack whores. He goes behind her back with pre-op transsexuals. Why? It's like a famous crooner said. On his wedding night in Las Vegas, he askedone of his handlers to get him a hooker. The handler was astonished. "A hooker? But why? It's your wedding night! You've gotone of the most beautiful women in the world waiting for you upstairs!" The crooner looked at his handler. "Yeah," he said, "but she's my wife."
我对女人自有一套。我的女人不需要去参照什么美的相对性。任何男人都会流着哈喇子称赞我的女人都是那么令人销魂。但请允许我给你透露一点小秘密。同世界上最美的女人结婚的男人是什么感受？他觉得她无趣。无-趣-无趣。他偷搞烂娼，背地里跟没动过变性手术的性别倒错者搅基。理由？某个著名的男低音倒是有过解释。他在拉斯维加斯举行的婚礼当晚，让一个演出团队职员去给他搞个鸡。这职员傻呆了。“鸡？为啥呢？这是你的新婚夜！世界上最美的女人之一是属于你的，她还在楼上等你！”那男低音瞧了瞧这个职员“嗯，”他接着说，“但她是我老婆。”
Get it? At some point the Law of Diminishing Kicks sets in. You go out with an actress — and then you want a model. You go out with a model — and then you want a supermodel. You go out with a supermodel — and what do you want then? A super-dupermodel? Tough luck! When you're intimately involved with the most beautiful woman in the world, there's nowhere to go but down — down, down, down — down into the abyss of relative beauties. First you go from a supermodel back to a model, or perhaps to a mere screen queen. Then from there you plunge and keep plunging — a cheerleader. A hairdresser. A waitress. A female construction worker.
懂了没？某些时候，边际效益递减规律发挥作用了。你泡上一个演员—接着你想要个模特。你泡上一个模特—接着你想要个名模。你泡上一个名模—接着你想要什么？一个超级最好没有之一名模？没门儿！当你跟世界上最漂亮的女人搞上一腿后，你走投无路除了往下—往下，往下，往下—往下直到相对的美的深渊。一开始你从搞名模退化到搞模特，或者搞区区一个影后。接着从新的起点你再往下退化，并持续退化—应援团女生，发廊打工妹，酒吧女招待，工地女大壮。
But where is the bottom?
但是哪里是尽头？
By the time I'd tired of the construction worker, with her body that resembled a bull terrier, I'd started to understand something very fundamental about the libido. When you try to outdo yourself, the Law of Diminishing Kicks exerts itself — you want more, better, sooner. And yet you are exhausted — bored — weakened — faithless. Conversely, when you play the Law of Diminishing Kicks backwards — when you stop trying to top the last kick and voluntarily turn around to descend through the depths of the nether thrills — something very surprising happens. Listen. You feel stronger — better — harder. Imagine! The libido is a muscle: it grows stronger through repeated exposure to resistance. And what, to the libido, is resistance? Ugliness.
当我对那个身体好似斗牛犬与梗配种出来的牛头梗的工地女大壮也开始厌倦时，我对性欲的某种极其本质的东西逐渐产生了理解。当你试着向上更进一步，边际效益递减规律开始呈现威力—你想要更多，更好，更快。可你变得精疲力竭—厌烦—衰竭—失去信念。相反地，当你顺着边际效益递减规律往后走—当你停止在正常性爱的世界勉励向上一小步，自愿掉转头往逆反的惊悚世界堕落—某些非常惊奇的事情发生了。听好了您。你的口味变得更重—更好—更硬。发挥你的想象力！性欲就好似肌肉一般：通过不断面对挑战而变得强壮。那么什么，是性欲的挑战？丑陋。
Friends were no doubt shocked to see that, after the construction worker, I moved on to a fat woman — and I do mean fat. They saw me with my thin marathoner's body and wondered what it was that I admired in this portly paramour with the plus-size panties. You, no doubt, now know — you can see clearly what it was that they could hardly divine. My obese odalisque was a drill instructor to my libido. She made it lift the barbell of disgust and run the treadmill of repulsion. She made it sweat out its narrow aestheticism and steel itself for erotic encounters with an ever-increasing range of hideous desiderata.
朋友们所看到的无疑让他们震惊，自工地女大壮之后，我搞上一个胖女人—我说胖，我的意思是真他妈胖。他们看着我跟马拉松运动员一样瘦削的身段，讶异于我究竟看上这个穿加大尺码裤子的了不得的情人的哪一点。您现在，毋庸置疑，是能明白的—你清楚看到这是什么，而他们做梦都想不到。我那肥硕的女奴是直达我性欲的钻头。她举起压在我性欲上的所谓‘恶心’的杠铃，踏上沉重但必须踏动才能启动我性欲的所谓‘反胃’的踏板。她让我的性欲挣脱狭隘的唯美主义，她将我的性欲偷渡到不断扩张的狰狞欲念所包容的下流艳遇之中。
Next was a deformed man — an amputee — and after him, a dog. In bestiality, I felt as though I had neared the bottom rung on the ladder of relative beauties. I was prepared to take a final step — down — down into a realm so far from normal human sensibility that, unlike adultery, homosexuality, and bestiality, it was not even proscribed in the bible. Who would have thought to forbid an act — a perversion — that already seemed so inherently repellent? Even for me it remained repulsive — and yet that was precisely what I was after: something to provide resistance to my increasingly potent libido.
接下来是个残废畸形的男人—截过肢—接下来，一条狗。兽交让我觉得差不多到了‘相对之美’的螺旋阶梯的最下层。我准备好跨出最后一步—往下—往下进入一个寻常人类的感官所远不能及的领域，那是如此遥不可及，不像淫乱、同性恋、兽交，它甚至根本没有在圣经上被禁止。谁会想去禁止一种行为—一种扭曲—其本身是如此根深蒂固地使人反胃作呕？即便对我来说，它依旧显得恶心—但那完完全全就是我所想要的：能向我那承受力日渐强大的性欲进行反抗的东西。
It couldn't be anything too reminiscent of — normal life. It needed to be fully itself, with no pretense or gesture of compromise toward the natural predilections of the male libido. It couldn't be a mere simulacrum of sleeping beauty, Juliet in her tomb with the blush of youth still masking the effects of a lethal poison. I needed something — sick-making. Something not just dead but so very dead that there could be no mistaking it for anything else.
这不能是任何会使人想起日常生活的东西。它需要有完全的自我存在性，不沾染一丝向自然男性欲望的偏爱相与妥协的做作或姿态。它决不能丝毫像是个睡着的美女，也不能像朱丽叶在她的墓穴中那样用少女的红润掩盖致命毒剂所造成的效果。我需要某种—使人想吐的东西。
And do you know what I discovered? Rigor mortis, pallor, rot — these too can be sources of exquisite sensation. Flesh that is — shall we say, overripe — can provide a soft, snug embrace, even in places where formerly there was no orifice. And maggots, however appalling it may at first sound — and I recognize that it does sound appalling — maggots, when they crawl or scamper across your organ of pleasure, send delightful tickles through your nervous system, like little fingers or a vibrator.
你猜我发现什么了？死后僵硬，惨败，腐坏—这些同样能成为精美绝伦的感受的源泉。那种—且让我们说，过熟的--肉体，能柔软又舒适地包围着你，哪怕在那些本来没有洞眼的地方。还有蛆，不管初听起来有多骇人—我承认它的确听起来骇人—的蛆，当它在你那属于愉悦的器官上蠕动或是蹦跳时，能给你神经系统带来悦乐的撩动，就像手指，或振动器。
But where do you go from there? Necrophilia is where the relativity of beauty butts up against a limit: death. What could possibly be uglier? You can't go any further down, any further away from innate human sensibilities. From there, you canonly turn around and begin climbing your way back up the food chain of beauty — but listen.once you've been there,once you've touched bottom in the abyss, you will be forever after condemned to see beauty through a lens of ugliness. For the rest of your life, it will be impossible to see the clitoris of the most beautiful woman in the world without feeling astonished at how much it resembles a maggot on her cadaver.
但从那里出发还能到哪儿？恋尸癖是‘美的相对性’与死亡这一极限所交媾的地方。还有什么更丑陋的可能存在吗？你无法继续往下，无法再偏离人类生来的感官一点儿。从那里，你只能再次掉头开始重新向上攀爬美的食物链—但听好了，一旦你到了那里，一旦你触到深渊的最底层，你就被宣判将永远要借助丑作为透镜来看到美。在你的余生当中，你将无法不在见到世上最美的女人的阴蒂的时候惊讶于这跟她尸体上的蛆有多么相似。
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