William S. Burroughs Ipsum

Nothing is true, everything is permitted. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative. nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death. 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 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. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. as a young child i wanted to be a writer because writers were rich and famous. they lounged around singapore and rangoon smoking opium in a yellow pongee silk suit. they sniffed cocaine in mayfair and they penetrated forbidden swamps with a faithful native boy and lived in the native quarter of tangier smoking hashish and languidly caressing a pet gazelle. 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. it would get drunk, too, and have crying jags. screaming at it to shut up... in the morning with transparentjelly... and the pieces would stick to his hands... and then finally than a crab's eye at the end of a stalk..

The way to kill a man or a nation is to cut off his dreams, the way the whites are taking care of the indians: killing their dreams, their magic, their familiar spirits. 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. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. perhaps all pleasure is only relief. you can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal. whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction. there is nothing more provocative than minding your own business. language is a virus from outer space. there are no innocent bystanders... what are they doing there in the first place? 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. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. it's the little touches that make a future solid enough to destroy. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. it is to be remembered that all art is magical in origin - music, sculpture, writing, painting - and by magical i mean intended to produce very definite results. paintings were originally formulae to make what is painted happen. art is not an end in itself, any more than einstein's matter-into-energy formulae is an end in itself. like all formulae, art was originally functional, intended to make things happen, the way an atom bomb happens from einstein's formulae. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. 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. nothing is true, everything is permitted. panic is the sudden realization that everything around you is alive. 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. little raspy incurving hooks he thought this was cute at first "because we don't need you would have amputated spontaneously as one judge said to another judge: be just. and if you can't be just, be arbitrary..

A functioning police state needs no police. in deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. the cat does not offer services. the cat offers itself. of course he wants care and shelter. you don't buy love for nothing. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative. 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. there are no innocent bystanders... what are they doing there in the first place? the junk merchant doesn't sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product. he does not improve and simplify his merchandise. he degrades and simplifies the client. 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. 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. "because we don't need you all over his mouth. for a while, you could see....