Titan

Professor Wilmot’s oral diary

I suppose this therapy business is helping me. Damned embarrassing, though, talking about your fantasies and desires to some blasted computer program.

Hasn’t done me any harm, I suppose. I haven’t had a peek at any of the vids for months. No dreams about sadomasochistic encounters. Well, the occasional odd fancy, of course. Never had much in the way of dreams, not as long as I had the vids to fantasize about.

Perhaps I actually do dream and I simply don’t remember once I’m awake. Does that count? I’ll have to ask the psych program about that. It probably won’t answer me. Beyond its programming, doubtless.

That blasted Eberly. Him and his snooping. I’ve made him remove all the damned bugs and cameras he and his people had planted in our living quarters. The maintenance people sweep the apartments regularly just to make certain we’re not being spied upon. That’s one thing I’ve insisted on. Even though I’m officially out of power now, I made certain that that has been done.

So now I spend my evenings reviewing the day’s news events instead of watching Gestapo agents interrogating beautiful female spies. Healthier, I suppose. It’s all computer animation, of course. No one actually gets hurt. There are no real people involved. The therapy program claims there will come a time when I’m no longer interested in S vids. Can’t say that I believe it, but I’m willing to proceed with the therapy if for no other reason than to keep Eberly from holding my infatuation over my head.

On the other hand, watching Urbain twist in the wind is almost as pleasurable. Never liked the man. Too excitable. And now he’s hoist on his own petard, as the Bard would say.

I really must get out more. I shouldn’t stay shut up in this apartment. Get out. Meet the people. Study them and their reactions. You have a self-contained anthropology experiment at your fingertips, my boy. It’s time for you to do some field work instead of sitting by passively.

Yes, time to go out and—what is it the politicians say? Ah yes: Press the, flesh.