authors with guns: part 1

william s. burroughs:

william s. burroughs looms brightly over bikerMetric. he’s one of my greatest influences. according to william covert, mr. burroughs, “was a junky, queer, wife killing, man-boy lover but he kept that s**t in mehico where it belongs!”

william is right. i mean, william covert is right. william s. burroughs, not to be confused with the guy who wrote tarzan, was also right. he was right about a lot. especially for a queer junky wife killer.

his book, “naked lunch,” argues for the treatment of junkies rather than imprisonment, it rages against capital punishment, and, to paraphrase norman mailer, it illustrates the destruction of soul, a vision of how humankind would act if it were totally divorced from eternity.

some of us are. maybe you.

the book (not his best – check out the western lands trilogy) takes place within a surreal world of incredibly grotesque and kinky ***, rampant drug use by all (including and especially “police”) and mind control. the book is huge on mind control. i read it now and see it as a mad poet’s cold turkey description of alexis de tocqueville’s treatises on the united states of america in 1835, except 125 years later, angry, and prophetically before eisenhower coined the term “military-industrial complex.”

before manchurian candidates shot the kennedys and flew planes into buildings for the profit of bankers and the fear mongers who seek to control your mind and soul. before ten billion doses of psychoactive prescription drugs were administered in the united states each year.

with his first major work, william s. burroughs fought in the supreme court for the freedom to say it hard like a skull f***, and he knew what was coming.

it’s “1984” with suicide ******* in nooses. it’s “brave new world” with needles and open wounds seeping *****. it’s something you should know and read because, motherf***ers, it’s happening all around you. this world simply looks a cleaner because you’re too frightened to lift the lid and take a good whiff of the death of the western lands rotting inside.

therefore, for the sake of tonight’s brief post, a stab in the darkness at the mumblers who lie and cheat and do what they’re told, i shall print only one thing he was right about.

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