Saturday, October 4, 2008

shooting star

bill burroughs by robert mapplethorpe, 1981.

From a broadcast on WSB Radio, 1961, London: "A Day in the Life of a Junkie". From Ubu Web:

"One of the most in-demand titles in the Sub Rosa catalogue, a collection of extraordinary cut-up voices recorded during the mid-60s in hotel rooms in Paris, New York, London, and beyond..."

I feel like a junkie. I am hooked on devalued currency; to the act of making meaningless contributions to the flotsam and jetsam riding the ether out into space. Crash landing on a giant gas planet on the fringe of an astral belt.

My intention is to wean myself off this shit gradually. For better or worse, going cold turkey does not appear to be a realistic option.

Like the strapline goes: "in space no one can hear you scream."

WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS: JUNKY RELATIONS from "Break Through In Grey Room" CD (Sub Rosa) 1994 (US)





yes, I is back.
fer good or bad
for good or not
I is a vegetarian,
but cold turkey
might be on my plate.
if you stick with the story
I believe it will all end well,
or at least, well, end.


ps. I see you post more ghost, I be
so far b'hind. I can not keep up when I'm keeping up.

Unknown said...

Regarding being strapped to our toxic orb, ib, just keep humming the prophet ECs' matra... welcome to the working week... and i pro-scribe you'll be ok.

if i might ask your advice, out a twisted Benway, how might a man (a man LIKE my self, deal with the hostage-brain whoo-ha of terrible regret?)

because, you seem the sage-knowledge guru, since i seen that pic of you where it looked like you were passsed out or maybe just channeling...

see? that's the downers i'm in.

i fucked up, insulting (which i didn't think i were) big-time. turns out it was. back-pedaling don't seem to werk. apologies fall on shut ears... and if i didn't care about the situation, i wouldn't be asking my internet friend for some advise.

so, without knowing any of the details, lemme know how a doctor would act.

(the CAPCHA phrase i get to type in this time is "ricuolap". Which I read as "ridiculous crap". Ha! Spot on.

Oh, Nate?~ If'n you have to beg, borrow, or offer up your neighbors newspaper returned with the crossword completed, get the Ghosts. Brother.

ib said...

Riculop. I like it.

I have carelessly insulted a good many people - intentionally and not - going farther back in time than I care to remember. For decades I put it down exclusively to the bottle, but while it was certainly a contributory factor I have come to conclude that I am generally a cantankerous bastard plagued by demons and oftentimes given to dispensing erratic abuse.

Even sober, my capacity to insult has been remarked on. The good thing here, is one's memory of events is unclouded and it is a damn sight easier to live with it; or in some cases, argue one's position.

In short, relationships are a bitch.

I think I was passed out and channeling both. In the process of conjuring a suitably barbed announcement.

I have no quick fix up my sleeve. Or wise salving contribution to make.

ib said...


"I believe it will all end well,
or at least, well, end."

Nice. Let's go with the former, bro. :)

ib said...


Odd thing too.

Treasure Planet... Ok I get the piratical parlance; but in the Mapplethorpe book from which I obtained this image, the LH page opposite is of a young boy in full pirate costume, raising a telescope aloft and mirroring Burrough's aim.

I love coincidences.


ib sez 'coincidence'.

matt sez 'eventuality'.

but every time nathan sez 'synchronicity' I get slammed & reamed..just read your RAW.

A moth farts in South America & something happens here (w[here]ever here are). Its all related, but the reason the pirate-costumed boy & the Treasure Planet & Aargh! mean universally more to yourself & myself & our ilk is quite simple.
We are controlling the effect of our cause.


ib said...

You cheered me up considerably with that last comment, nate.

And god knows I was in need of a positive nudge. Nice.