William S. Burroughs Ipsum
Word Lists: William S. Burroughs
A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. when you stop growing you start dying. 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. nothing is true, everything is permitted. it was unlike anything i ever heard. bubbly, thick, stagnant sound. a sound you could smell. this man worked for the carnival, you dig? nobody loved it. that's the one thing of the brain behind the eyes..
Our national drug is alcohol. we tend to regard the use any other drug with special horror. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. you could hear him for blocks, and there was no more feeling in them.
A functioning police state needs no police. admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. in fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say i want to see the manager. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. when you stop growing you start dying. knowing you might not make it... in that knowledge courage is born. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. there is in fact something obscene and sinister about photography, a desire to imprison, to incorporate, a sexual intensity of pursuit. how i hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. 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. 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. and built an act around it... finally, it talked all the time, you could hear him for blocks, screaming at it to shut up... and sticking candles up it, but... it was trapped inside the skull... the brain must have died... and there was no more feeling in them.
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Our national drug is alcohol. we tend to regard the use any other drug with special horror. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. you could hear him for blocks, and there was no more feeling in them.
A functioning police state needs no police. admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. in fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say i want to see the manager. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. when you stop growing you start dying. knowing you might not make it... in that knowledge courage is born. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. there is in fact something obscene and sinister about photography, a desire to imprison, to incorporate, a sexual intensity of pursuit. how i hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. 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. 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. and built an act around it... finally, it talked all the time, you could hear him for blocks, screaming at it to shut up... and sticking candles up it, but... it was trapped inside the skull... the brain must have died... and there was no more feeling in them.