William S. Burroughs Ipsum

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. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. the face of evil is always the face of total need. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. i bear my burden proudly for all to see, to conquer prejudice and ignorance and hate with knowledge and sincerity and love. whenever you are threatened by a hostile presence, you emit a thick cloud of love like an octopus squirts out ink... i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. how i hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. nothing is true, everything is permitted. then it developed sort of teethlike... he thought this was cute at first finally, it talked all the time, and the asshole said to him... "it is you who will shut up "because we don't need you around here anymore. after that, he began waking up and infiltrated and atrophied..

A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. the aim of education is the knowledge, not of facts, but of values. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? a paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. the first and most important thing an individual can do is to become an individual again, decontrol himself, train himself as to what is going on and win back as much independent ground for himself as possible there are no innocent bystanders... what are they doing there in the first place? writers, like elephants, have long, vicious memories. there are things i wish i could forget. i bear my burden proudly for all to see, to conquer prejudice and ignorance and hate with knowledge and sincerity and love. whenever you are threatened by a hostile presence, you emit a thick cloud of love like an octopus squirts out ink... thou shalt not be such a shit, you don't know you are one. it's the little touches that make a future solid enough to destroy. whether you like it or not, you are committed to the human endeavor. i cannot ally myself with such a purely negative goal as avoidance of suffering. suffering is a chance you take by the fact of being alive. danger is a biologic necessity, like dreams. if you face death, for that time, for the period of direct confrontation, you are immortal. there is in fact something obscene and sinister about photography, a desire to imprison, to incorporate, a sexual intensity of pursuit. i am not a person and i am not an animal. there is something i am here for something i must do before i can go. then it developed sort of teethlike... he thought this was cute at first around here anymore. like a tadpole's tail like burning gasoline jelly except for the eyes, you dig? of the brain behind the eyes. than a crab's eye at the end of a stalk. as one judge said to another judge: be just. and if you can't be just, be arbitrary..

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. man is an artifact designed for space travel. he is not designed to remain in his present biologic state any more than a tadpole is designed to remain a tadpole. in the end, not me... all over his mouth..