I think of Hephaestus and his golden women, their pictures in a storybook I had when I was young. I saw them through the mechanic’s eyes, shining figures made in the image of their god, the clicking legs and smooth features he could never have. I loved his story growing up.

The picture book never told me how he tried to rape Athena, how his blank faced women watched as she wiped his semen off her leg, forbidden to move by his placement of their gears.


An automaton is a body that sits still and does what it is told. A computer is a brain that does the same thing.

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