William S. Burroughs Ipsum
Word Lists: William S. Burroughs
Black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. the face of evil is always the face of total need. never do business with a religious son-of-a-bitch. his word ain't worth a shit -- not with the good lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal. the dream is a spontaneous happening and therefore dangerous to a control system set-up by the non-dreamers like all pure creatures, cats are practical. it was unlike anything i ever heard. bubbly, thick, stagnant sound. a sound you could smell. this man worked for the carnival, you dig? around here anymore. except for the eyes, you dig? it needed the eyes. the brain must have died....
. Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. i am not one of those weak-spirited, sappy americans who want to be liked by all the people around them. i don't care if people hate my guts; i assume most of them do. the important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it. my affections, being concentrated over a few people, are not spread all over hell in a vile attempt to placate sulky, worthless shits. in the u.s. you have to be a deviant or die of boredom. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. nothing exists until or unless it is observed. an artist is making something exist by observing it. and his hope for other people is that they will also make it exist by observing it. i call it 'creative observation.' creative viewing. the best way to keep something bad from happening is to see it ahead of time... and you can't see it if you refuse to face the possibility. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. nothing is true, everything is permitted. panic is the sudden realization that everything around you is alive. open your mind and let the pictures out. did i ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? his whole abdomen would move up and down, you dig, farting out the words. beating at it with his fists... around here anymore. i can talk and eat and shit." nerve connections were blocked... it was trapped inside the skull... sealed off..
A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. you were not there for the beginning. you will not be there for the end. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative writers, like elephants, have long, vicious memories. there are things i wish i could forget. cheat your landlord if you can -- and must -- but do not try to shortchange the muse. in homosexual sex you know exactly what the other person is feeling, so you are identifying with the other person completely. in heterosexual sex you have no idea what the other person is feeling. and to start with it was like a novelty ventriloquist act. after a while, the ass started talking on its own. he would go in without anything prepared... and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. you could hear him for blocks, beating at it with his fists... in the end, not me... and the pieces would stick to his hands... that the asshole couldn't do was see..
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. Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. i am not one of those weak-spirited, sappy americans who want to be liked by all the people around them. i don't care if people hate my guts; i assume most of them do. the important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it. my affections, being concentrated over a few people, are not spread all over hell in a vile attempt to placate sulky, worthless shits. in the u.s. you have to be a deviant or die of boredom. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. nothing exists until or unless it is observed. an artist is making something exist by observing it. and his hope for other people is that they will also make it exist by observing it. i call it 'creative observation.' creative viewing. the best way to keep something bad from happening is to see it ahead of time... and you can't see it if you refuse to face the possibility. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. nothing is true, everything is permitted. panic is the sudden realization that everything around you is alive. open your mind and let the pictures out. did i ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? his whole abdomen would move up and down, you dig, farting out the words. beating at it with his fists... around here anymore. i can talk and eat and shit." nerve connections were blocked... it was trapped inside the skull... sealed off..
A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. you were not there for the beginning. you will not be there for the end. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative writers, like elephants, have long, vicious memories. there are things i wish i could forget. cheat your landlord if you can -- and must -- but do not try to shortchange the muse. in homosexual sex you know exactly what the other person is feeling, so you are identifying with the other person completely. in heterosexual sex you have no idea what the other person is feeling. and to start with it was like a novelty ventriloquist act. after a while, the ass started talking on its own. he would go in without anything prepared... and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. you could hear him for blocks, beating at it with his fists... in the end, not me... and the pieces would stick to his hands... that the asshole couldn't do was see..