Ex Machina

Adrian Van Young Red Band
LUVIN ON EM (27 views)
by Gio Sporanga
Publication Date: May 23rd 2014


The camera is fixed on a secondhand couch. The cushions are warped and the fabric is pilled and a dime of food matter lies stamped on the weave. The camera's fixed in such a way that the cushions that make up the couch are foregrounded, the top of the couch, where an arm might extend, running plumb underneath a pale sliver of wall. The shot comes out of focus, back. A pair of soft legs dangle in from above, and something gives a little moan, and the hand of Sporanga is reaching a kitten down into the shot. The kitten is a marbled shock of brown-white hair and oaring claws. In the process of setting the cat on its feet, Sporanga taps it on its skull. The kitten's eyes close like a toy and blink open. Sporanga's voice says: "There. There, there." The hand that retracts is a well cared-for hand: the skin lotioned, the nails trimmed close.




FROM: The Animal Rights Advocate
SUBJECT: Predator Alert!!!
DATE: June 2nd 2014

Dear Friends of Beta,  

The fall, as you know, is a wonderful time for everything that walks and breathes. Creatures furred and scaled and not are enjoying the Goldilocks climate of autumn—not too hot and not too cold!—and in fact, as I write this, a black-throated Warbler is watching me type from the edge of my window, his blue-and-white body precocious, intent, dark feathers enclosing his ruff like an omen.

For all is not right in the world, Warbler knows. The joy of autumn knows exceptions.

Have you seen this?

We thought perhaps.

It's everyone's problem and we've got to stop it.

Our predator's name? Mr. Gio Sporanga. Or that is what he calls himself. Triangulation: USA. He could be in your town right now.

In case you haven't guessed already, he's the star and auteur of the filth linked above. Here is his website, domain host unknown. There are links to the cat- killing films there as well. Friends of Beta—friends like you!—first brought this guy to our attention and for that we salute you along the watchtowers, protecting the furry and feathered among us.

Here's what we know about Gio Sporanga:

He's bottled blonde. He's into porn. He's 21 or 22. He cuts a pretty lithe physique, as you can probably see above, and he's well put-together. His nails are trimmed down. His skin is smooth looking and UV-A tan. He always wears a different mask.

See it for yourself again.

And here again.

Again once more.

Picking up on a pattern? That's right. There is none. The videos are always different.

Now take a close look at your browser while linking. They have the same time-stamp, the same URL, the same sick title ("LUVIN ON EM"). Even the date they were posted: the same. The only thing about the link that ever looks different apart from the content is the number of posts in response, which is climbing.

Which explains in large part the dilemma we're in.

As soon as we find one, we flag Dailymotion and Dailymotion takes it down, but then the next day it returns. Behead the snake, another grows (WE DON'T CONDONE BEHEADING SNAKES!)

So do us a favor? Call in with ALL LEADS. This kind of sick thing doesn't need glorifying.

—The Animal Rights Advocate, and the rest of Team Beta


*** Male Teens
Uploaded on June 11th 2014


A different room, a different couch, but the rest of the room just as bare as the other. The couch is a futon, in couch form for now; it will be in its bed form but only much later. The camera's pushed far back enough that you can see the couch entire and you can see part of a window above it, the thick pebbly glass of the plastic-lipped pane. The Porn Star sits upon the couch. He is reading a magazine, right leg propped, wagging. The shoes he wears have fat black tongues and the laces that keep them on tight are bright orange. His pants are riding low on him, the chain on his wallet cascading the fabric. He's wearing a hoodie, the hood cinched in close and the sleeves of the sweatshirt tube down past his hands. He's reading the magazine, foot faintly wagging. There's a look on his face but it cannot be seen.


*** Red Band
LUVIN ON EM (386 views)
by Gio Sporanga
Publication Date: May 23rd 2014


The kitten is right where Sporanga last left it. A few seconds pass and he enters the frame; he's naked and his buttocks shift. He kneels before the dingy couch. He's holding something in his hands. The kitten gazes up at him, like a man in blood-rapture might gaze on a god, and it watches him kneel, leaning lower and lower as the back of his head, the hair blonde, lowers too. From the angle he kneels at, his face is obscured. Sporanga is wearing a veil such as women of breeding will wear in the South—a brooch trimmed in onyx is clipped into his hair, from which the veil depends and flows, and you can see the sides of it as he kneels on the carpet in front of the kitten. And then from the thing that he has in his hands, a continuous tendril begins to unfurl. At first it appears to be something organic—some pale, prehensile part of him—but the tendril is only a medical bandage, a channel of gauze leading out from a roll, and Sporanga is wrapping the head of the brown-and-white kitten in layer by layer. It scrabbles and splays on the cushions for purchase, losing its coordination. His right arm holds the kitten still while the left one unwinds the white gauze from the roll, the bandage slowly tapering as the wrapping approaches the kitten's mid-section, its legs growing less and less able to stand as it struggles to breathe through the layers of bandage. The winding, soon enough, is done. The kitten stands cocooned and rigid. It hunkers there, decorative, somehow still standing, until it tips over and lands on its side. Sporanga watches it a while before hobbling out of the shot on his knees. But one of his hands slithers back in again and coaxes the kitten away by its paw.




FROM: The Animal Rights Advocate
SUBJECT: One Step Forward, One Step Back
DATE: June 7th 2014

Dear Friends of Beta,

The suspect we identified from his digital footprint as Gio Sporanga remains at large as I write this. He never stops posting, we never stop watching. Sporanga is an EPIDEMIC! Convenient for us, isn't it?

It supports the illusion that we can do nothing.

He is either rerouting his address through servers in disparate countries surrounding the globe or has a pretty hardy firewall. WE NEED YOUR IT EXPERTISE!

But here's a little bit of news: Sporanga is active in other arenas.

WARNING, FRIENDS! NSFW! RedTube content-wise is a far cry from Gawker.

Click the box to certify that you are 18+ and watch.

If you have tips on who he is or have anything solid that might help us catch him, then thank you kindly in advance for sending them here, SUBJECT LINE: FIGHT THE FILTH.

—The Animal Rights Advocate, and the rest of Team Beta


GIF: #bodypump #workingfortheweekend #goingnowherefast

This room is a workout room. It's cluttered with dumb-bells and motion machines; a short rack of medicine balls, multi-colored. Gio Sporanga is in it and shirtless. He sits astride a spinning bike, his bottom half in nylon shorts and he works at the pedals with punishing skill, the tendons as stark as canals in his legs. And the wheels of the bike cycle in on themselves, the wheels of the bike are continuous blurs; they are part of the vast consciousness that surrounds them, infinity of things and words. While the rider, Sporanga, is technically there, the viewer cannot see his face. He is wearing the mask of a Mexican wrestler; the head is gold, the eyeholes purple, the mouth a thin red line of trim. Mounted high upon the wall a 60" flat-screen TV, with big speakers. An image shows there and the image repeats, keeping time with the gif, which repeats still again: a man on his knees, penetrating another, their parts connecting, clean, precise. The gif takes place in total silence; no sound from the flat-screen TV can be heard. One can assume that the volume is loud from the faintest vibration, affecting the lens.

GIF: #givemetwenty #allthewaytothemat

In the gif that comes after the gif with the bike, Sporanga is down on a mat doing push-ups. The camera that records the gif occupies the same place as it did with the bike and the top of the mask surfaces then submerges. Surmounting the top of the purple-gold mask, the muscles of the plunging back, which seem oddly divorced from the lithe neck and arms that lend to the flesh, if not grace, then a trimness. On the seventh push-up in a set of fifteen, the mask comes full into the frame, the purple eyes vacant, the red mouth determined. The man on the screen being fucked by the first is now plunging himself down the other man's throat and the throat swells obscenely, appearing to choke. The regimen begins again.

GIF: #defyinggravity #beastingatreps #watchandlearn

In this final gif in the series of three, Gio Sporanga is airborne, facing away from the camera. He hangs like an ape from a high pull-up bar with his rhomboids and deltoids consuming the shot. His back is tan and void of marks: neither moles nor tattoos nor scar tissue nor freckles. And the back bunches up as he rises, goes flat; the arms crook and straighten and straighten and crook. When he lifts himself into the frame of the shot, the top of his mask rises too, like a sun, and we see that the back is unzippered, like skin, like some part of himself he has all but divested. The hair that pokes out of the back of the mask is colored not gold but a frosted white shade while underneath the white it's dark and bristles greasy at the nape. He does a set of thirteen reps. The top of the wrestler's mask rises and sets and the arms that propel him hang down in the shot; they frame the mounted TV screen where one of the men in the film looms, distorted. When his mouth opens up in a crisis of lust, Sporanga obscures him.


*** Male Teens
Uploaded on June 11th 2014


On the folded-up futon the Porn Star is sitting. There comes a light knock at the door; he gets up. He walks across the barren room to where the doorknob's faintly twisting and he pauses a beat at the twisting, perplexed, for he is coming to the door. He opens the door on a man in the hallway. They exchange something, blandly. The Porn Star steps back. Gio Sporanga comes into the room—or someone that is and is not the same man, for something is wrong with his face as he comes, its calibration not quite right. The face is cocooned in a hospital bandage. The Porn Star stands back in a trance of unease. Sporanga steps over the threshold and circles the floor-space before sitting down. He is dressed like the Porn Star is dressed—the same genre. The big hollow pants and the XXL sweater. He sits on the futon. He faces the camera. The Porn Star approaches and sits down beside him. The hospital bandage is not stained with blood; it is fresh and applied—a new bandage, for wearing.


*** Red Band
LUVIN ON EM (1,016 views)
by Gio Sporanga
Publication Date: May 23rd 2014


Sporanga stands naked in front of the couch at the center of which sits a storage device. The brown-and-white kitten is off to the right, nesting in the couch's arm. Sporanga is wearing a third kind of mask but only the back at this point can be seen—it's a thick rubber mask the raw color of burn. Sporanga lowers to his haunches, unzipping the plastic that makes the device—a microfiber shrink-wrap bag that's housed inside a Teflon crate—and he lowers the brown-and-white kitten inside it. Beyond the shrink-wrap of the bag the white kitten blurs, a smudged aura about it. After a moment Sporanga stands up, his penis flopping into view and he walks to the side of the shrink-wrap, inspecting. We see the mask that hides his face. In design it resembles the face of a doll—a sexless, male doll that a small child might play with—yet here there is nothing of whimsy about it. It is a dead, uncertain thing. It has tawny, thin hair and smeared darkness for eyes. Sporanga leans over the storage device, his muscles extending, his spine knuckling palely, and roots through the darkness between couch and wall. He comes up with something that looks like a vacuum but is more like some animal, flattened of snout and he lengthens it, feeding, down into the bag. The top of it brushes the kitten's soft pate. While the brown-and-white kitten bats at it, a plaything, the man in the mask sets the vacuum to on. A force comes up above the kitten. It's the hard plastic big-bodied suck of the vacuum, the gathering out of it vicious, immense, like an avalanche sheering uphill in reverse and the kitten cranes upward, its mouth in a yawn. More intent by the second, Sporanga leans closer. As the force of the vacuum encounters the air and starts to draw it toward the snout, Sporanga depresses his hand, pushing in the excess bag and the kitten below it, its face craning up, appears to submit to the force of his hand. For a moment the cat looks defiant, ferocious. And then it settles down to die.




Profile Pictures from

Photo #1: A young man in the blonde-man mask who sits on a bench on a beach by himself. The bench is a low one with cushions that line it, a sort of dark netting laid over the cushions. The young man sits there, eyes smeared holes, a highball glass cradled in one of his hands.

Photo #2: A young man in the blonde-man mask who pauses, midway, on the steps to a subway. Surmounting his head is the subway line's name, specifying what route it will take through the city and the dark of the holes at the crest of the mask are made darker still by the tunnel beyond.

Photo #3: A young man in the blonde-man mask who stands in a forest, his eyes trained away. The way the photo has been staged the sharp underside of his jaw is exposed and he looks to the left while the mask-flesh sags on him, the nose like a gobbet of dripped candlewax.

Photo #4: A young man in the blonde-man mask who sits on a fainting couch holding a coffee. The couch sits in an anteroom, one that borders a dressing room somewhere beyond it with mirrors mounted on the wall, and the back of the mask, like a burn, can be seen hanging high and to the right of the young man's left shoulder.




I am The Porn Star AMA
submitted October 15th 2013 by FleshyBot

I am The Porn Star. Actor, sex-positivist, animal rights advocate, official collaborator with the Beta Group for the Protection of Animals. Ask me anything.



DianeFosseyLives   6 points
How did you get in with Beta?

FleshyBot       27 points
Well I've been pretty big on that stuff my whole life. PETA, Veganism stuff, enforcing lax hunting restrictions, etc. Beta knew that. Sent the links. Gave the game-plan. I'm like, sure.

SnowLeopard75    1 point
A thousand cheers to you and yours! It's a culture of cruelty out there FleshyBot. I can hear in your voice that you really do care.

FleshyBot         48 points
The activism stuff was first. But then again I work in porn? They thought that he would know my name. He did and he asked me for face-time to prove it. When I turned on the app he was sitting there shirtless. He told me that he liked my cock. He came from the place that he lived, not sure where and we met for a taping in some warehouse district.

Xpialadocious    108 points
You and BETA there? No cops? That's pretty fucking hardcore dude.

FleshyBot       53 points
We didn't go further than thinking of that. Of getting him into that room to confess. BETA was waiting outside in the car. It was this residential house. All around it were hangars, industrial shops, car garages. Really weird. And really, really early too. The room that I sat in was pale with the morning. I waited for him to show up. Waited hours. Close to noon he came. Roll tape.

SnowLeopard75   1 point
How would you describe his face?

FleshyBot       8 points
I never saw it all the way.

SnowLeopard75      1 point
You couldn't bear to look at him?

DianeFosseyLives        193 points
Can we open this up to the larger discussion? Damn, SnowLeopard75!

SnowLeopard75      1 point
Apologies sorry! I just get excited these guys are out fighting the good fight for us.


*** Male Teens
Uploaded on June 11th 2014


Gio Sporanga, his face wrapped in gauze, sits next to the Porn Star, the futon still folded. He turns toward the Porn Star as though for a kiss and ever so slightly he leans to the right and the face without lips and the head without eyes rebounds against the Porn Star's cheek. Sporanga attempts to say something but over the fritz of the track it's occluded. He begins to unbuckle the Porn Star's big pants while the Porn Star, in fogged lassitude, arches up. Sporanga begins to enable the flesh, pinching it off, pulling up, pulling down. The Porn Star is trying to find out his eyes, interred behind the wall of gauze. When the Porn Star approaches his gratification, an expression of agony uglies his mouth. His hands travel up to the bandaged man's face and they locate the bandage and jimmy it loose, and they start to unravel the gauze inch by inch, then foot by foot, then yard by yard for the bandage once loosened does not seem to end only travels to where it should end and goes on, the fleshy white strips of it coming undone like the pale tentacles of some terrible god, the long winding dream of the bandage unspooling, collecting, in hillocks, upon the room's floor and the legs of the Porn Star are cropped at the ankles, obscured amidst a mound of gauze.


*** Red Band
LUVIN ON EM (3,296 views)
by Gio Sporanga
Publication Date: May 23rd 2014


Sporanga sits there on the couch with the black-and-white kitten, paws folded, beside him. He's wearing the Mexican Wrestler's mask. His expression is set, multi-colored, dead-level. He throttles himself into prominence, pulling. He stretches his legs and he points with his toes as though he's on the verge of coming, but then he leans back and lets go of himself. The cat lifts its head at the motion; meows. He stretches his arms along the couch in a gesture of lewd and majestic dominion, his penis a separate entity, almost, the way that it pulses apart from his hand. He learns to the right and he takes up the kitten. He lifts the kitten slowly up and he tilts back his head and he opens his mouth and the mouth in the mask, it is grotesquely stretching, the jaw is unlatching, the darkness within and the kitten is being ingested inside it, its head disappearing, its forelegs, its belly, until it is sticking out pinched at the waist in the wide-open mouth of the man in the mask. He gullets it. He chokes upon it. He attends to his cockmeat again and again. He is choking his air while he masturbates, gasping. The kitten's hindlegs kick about. The mask is set; the mask sees nothing, except for the stitching that borders the holes.




Reddit AMA with the Porn Star (aka FleshyBot) cont'd


DianeFosseyLives         354 points
After all of that set up you still didn't catch him?  

FleshyBot         779 points
When I buckled my pants and stood up he was gone.

DiveDumpstersForDinner   200 points
Where was BETA all this time?

FleshyBot       345 points
Right where I left them. Outside in the car. They never saw him coming in. Never saw him leaving either. It was like he appeared there. Beamed in through the walls.

DianeFosseyLives   17 points
What was under the bandage?

SnowLeopard75      1 point
An excellent question! Beneath the bandage. Through the layers.

FleshyBot         36 points
There was nothing at all under there. Just more bandage. His face WAS the layers of bandage themselves. Like he'd come to me straight from some sort of procedure. A facelift or something intensive like that.

SnowLeopard75         1 point
What did it feel like to be with him there?

FleshyBot        136 points
I'm not sure what you're asking me.

SnowLeopard75      1 point
To be with him. Touch him. Abide in his presence.

FleshyBot        377 points
Well I mean it was sort of like getting a handjob. But this time it was more than that. I'd been drawn out of me by the man in the bandage and now I was spilling myself through the cosmos. I SOARED through time. You know the feeling? He was working on me all the while I suppose. The time I arrived in was when I was little. This house where I lived with my parents and sister when I was maybe two years old. Had a brick patio in the back. Lots of sun. Shining down through this trellis of pink and white flowers. It was, I guess, a starter house. In the end they just sapped it. Put down on a new one. But as I sat there in the sun with the trellis of pink and white flowers above me, I felt in some sense I had always BEEN home. And didn't ever need to leave. I could stay sitting there. Three years old. In the sun. With the pink and white flowers. The brick, which was warm. I was still with Sporanga but also right there. My THEN, you see, became my NOW. I was limitless, peaceful, completely at ease—in my skin, in the world, in the moment, you know? But then something happened. Some shift. I don't know. It was as if a shadow passed over the sun. Or something even worse. Unnatural. Like something twice the house's size passed over the brick patio as I sat there. Some creature, maybe. Lumbering. With the shaggy, dark pelt of a wolf or a moose. And there in the shade was a terrible thought. Arrived with the shade. OF the shade you might say. It was more than the fact that the moment would end—and the moment WOULD end, that was part of the feeling—but that when it did then my life would end, too. That everything would cease to be. And just when I thought that I knew what it meant I came into Sporanga's hand.

Xpialadocious     688 points
I think that's called the money shot?

SnowLeopard75      1 point
I admire what you said FleshyBot. Cut and paste?

FleshyBot        63 points

SnowLeopard75        1 point
Can you cut it and paste it below for my reference?

DianeFosseyLives      568 points
Do you NOT KNOW how Reddit works? If he already typed it it's there in the thread.

FleshyBot    1 point
To whom am I speaking?

SnowLeopard75    1 point
To whom do you think.

FleshyBot        1 point
As soon as you tell me your name, I'll repost it.

SnowLeopard75      1 point
How soon the ecstatic forget what they've suffered. 

FleshyBot      1 point

SnowLeopard75      1 point
I can still taste your dread in the back of my throat.