William S. Burroughs Ipsum

After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say 'i want to see the manager.' happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war. black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer. would have amputated spontaneously i began to get a feeling (...) of being the only sane man in a nut house. it doesn't make you feel superior but depressed and scared, because there is nobody you can contact. tell allen i plead guilty to vampirism and other crimes against life. but i love him and nothing else cancels love. the 'other half' is the word. the 'other half' is an organism. word is an organism. the presence of the 'other half' is a separate organism attached to your nervous system on an air line of words can now be demonstrated experimentally. one of the most common 'hallucinations' of subject during sense withdrawal is the feeling of another body sprawled through the subject's body at an angle...yes quite an angle it is the 'other half' worked quite some years on a symbiotic basis. from symbiosis to parasitism is a short step. the word is now a virus. the flu virus may have once been a healthy lung cell. it is now a parasitic organism that invades and damages the central nervous system. modern man has lost the option of silence. try halting sub-vocal speech. try to achieve even ten seconds of inner silence. you will encounter a resisting organism that forces you to talk. that organism is the word. quien sabe? not me. the older i get the less i sabe, the less wisdom, maturity and caution i have. we're not fighting for a scrap of sharecropper immortality with the strings hanging off it like mafioso spaghetti. we want the whole tamale. the johnsons are taking over the western lands. we built it with our brains and our hands. we paid for it with our blood and our lives. it's ours and we're going to take it. and we are not applying in triplicate to the immortality control board. anybody gets in our way we will get our communal back against a rock or a tree and fight the way a raccoon will fight a fucking dog..

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. black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. smash the control images. smash the control machine. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative. in the u.s. you have to be a deviant or die of boredom. there is nothing more provocative than minding your own business. 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. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. beating at it with his fists... "because we don't need you i can talk and eat and shit." except for the eyes, you dig? the american uppermiddle-class citizen is a composite of negatives. he is largely delineated by what he is not. squatting on old bones and excrement and rusty iron, in a white blaze of heat, a panorama of naked idiots stretches to the horizon. complete silence - their speech centres are destroyed - except for the crackle of sparks and the popping of singed flesh as they apply electrodes up and down the spine. white smoke of burning flesh hangs in the motionless air. a group of children have tied an idiot to a post with barbed wire and built a fire between his legs and stand watching with bestial curiosity as the flames lick his thighs. his flesh jerks in the fire with insect agony. a phenomenon must be to some extent comprehensible to be perceived at all. all abilities are paid for with disabilities. perfect health may entail the heavy toll of bovine stupidity. insight into one area involves blind spots in another. i could not have done what i have done as a writer had i been a gifted mathematician or physicist. well as, one judge said to the other, 'be just and if you can't be just be arbitrary.' regret cannot observe customary obscenities. death needs time for what it kills to grow in. the ears were large, flaring forward, the eyes limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light: obsidian, emerald, ruby, opal, amethyst, diamond. so he is putting down junk and coming on with tea. i take three drags, jane looked at him and her flesh crystallized. i leaped up screaming "i got the fear!" and ran out of the house. drank a beer in a little restaurant - mosaic bar and soccer scores and bullfight posters - and waited for the bus to town. according to the legend an evil old doctor, who called himself god and us dogs, created the first boy in his adolescent image. the boy peopled the garden with male phantoms that rose from his ejaculations. this angered god, who was getting on in years. he decided it endangered his position as creator. so he crept upon the boy and anaesthetized him and made eve from his rib. henceforth all creation of beings would process through female channels. but some of adam's phantoms refused to let god near them under any pretext. if, after having been in someone's presence, you feel like you've lost a quart of plasma - avoid that presence. no one likes to hear the word "vampire" used around here... it's kind of bad for our public image. while in general i avoid the use of torture - torture locates the opponent and mobilizes resistance - the threat of torture is useful to induce in the subject the appropriate feeling of helplessness and gratitude to the interrogator for withholding it. and torture can be employed to advantage as a penalty when the subject is far enough along with the treatment to accept punishment as deserved. to this end i devised several forms of disciplinary procedure. one was known as the switchboard. electric drills that can be turned on at any time are clamped against the subject's teeth; and he is instructed to operate an arbitrary switchboard, to put certain connections in certain sockets in response to bells and lights. every time he makes a mistake the drills are turned on for twenty seconds. the signals are gradually speeded up beyond his reaction time. half an hour on the switchboard and the subject breaks down like an overloaded thinking machine. if a weaker baboon be attacked by a stronger baboon the weaker baboon will either (a) present his hrump fanny i believe is the word, gentlemen, heh heh for passive intercourse or (b) if he is a different type baboon more extrovert and well-adjusted, lead an attack on an even weaker baboon if he can find one..

Anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say 'i want to see the manager.' 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. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. smash the control images. smash the control machine. love? what is it? most natural painkiller what there is. 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. 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. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. 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. same as any other mouth. "because we don't need you and the whole head... what a horrible loutish planet this is. the dominant species consists of sadistic morons, faces bearing the hideous lineaments of spiritual famine swollen with stupid hate. hopeless rubbish. i know this one pusher walks around humming a tune and everybody he passes takes it up. he is so grey and spectral and anonymous they don't see him and think it is their own mind humming the tune. precisely. arty type... no principles... this book is dedicated to the ancient ones, to the lord of abominations, humwawa, whose face is a mass of entrails, whose breath is the stench of dung and the perfume of death, dark angel of all that is excreted and sours, lord of decay, lord of the future, who rides on a whispering south wind, to pazuzu, lord of fevers and plagues, dark angel of the four winds with rotting genitals from which he howls through sharpened teeth over stricken cities, to kutulu, the sleeping serpent who cannot be summoned, to the akhkharu, who such the blood of men since they desire to become men, to the lalussu, who haunt the places of men, to gelal and lilit, who invade the beds of men and whose children are born in secret places, to addu, raiser of storms who can fill the night sky with brightness, to malah, lord of courage and bravery, to zahgurim, whose number is twenty-three and who kills in an unnatural fashion, to zahrim, a warrior among warriors, to itzamna, spirit of early mists and showers, to ix chel, the spider-web-that-catches-the-dew-of-morning, to zuhuy kak, virgin fire, to ah dziz, the master of cold, to kak u pacat, who works in fire, to ix tab, goddess of ropes and snares, patroness of those who hang themselves, to schmuun, the silent one, twin brother of ix tab, to xolotl the unformed, lord of rebirth, to aguchi, master of ejaculations, to osiris and amen in phallic form, to hex chun chan, the dangerous one, to ah pook, the destroyer, to the great old one and the star beast, to pan, god of panic, to the nameless gods of dispersal and emptiness, to hassan i sabbah, master of assassins. nobody's busting into your apartment at three in the morning, are they? well, then don't worry about what they're doing in south korea and places like that. it's like the standard of living. are you content to achieve your higher standard of living at the expense of people all over the world who've got a lower standard of living? most americans would say yes. now we ask the question, are you content to enjoy your political freedom at the expense of people who are less free? i think they would also say yes. here lies a stupid son of a bitch who tried to make death a company cop. a curse. been in our family for generations. the lees have always been perverts. i shall never forget the unspeakable horror that froze the lymph in my glands--the lymph glands that is, of course--when the baneful word seared my reeling brain: i was a homosexual. i thought of the painted, simpering female impersonators i'd seen in a baltimore nightclub. could it be possible i was one of those subhuman things? i walked the streets in a daze like a man with a light concussion--just a minute, doctor kildare, this isn't your script. i might well destroyed myself, ending an existence which seemed to offer nothing but grotesque misery and humiliation. nobler, i thought, to die a man than live on, a sex monster. it was a wise old queen--bobo, we called her--who taught me that i had a duty to live and bear my burden proudly for all to see, to conquer prejudice and ignorance and hate with knowledge and sincerity and love. cat hate reflects an ugly, stupid, loutish, bigoted spirit. there can be no compromise with this ugly spirit. i am trying like klee, to create something that will have a life of its own, that can put me in real danger, a danger which i willingly take on myself. my characters are quite as real to me as so-called real people; which is one reason why i'm not subject to what is known as loneliness. i have plenty of company. putting on a "b" production for a fruit..