Tag Archive: Burroughs


::::cut the fuck up::::


Months old. instead they decided to discussing throwing her away and mum because try as they might they notice her. she so much craved when she was 6 she reading cinderella and was the first and last fairy tale cerridwen remembers.

overhearing the ignorance of people around her cutting their feverous losses. It was impossible this fact that was subjected. Some terrible task or simply beaten

parents sensed her presence
she was put simply
couldn’t not make another. simply take out their horrid lives upon every morning.

she radiated so like a burning mark upon her mum and cerridwen would curse her inner light to help relieve their queasy souls. she meadow of misery and labouring abuse. her. her childhood was a rolling immediately hated the lucky bitch. it it made her ache. every time.

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::::tapeworm folios:::: [ book cover ]


::::The Bible Cut-ups:::: [ iteration the 2nd ]


The Bible Cut-ups homepage is here.

The sorrowful king, he shall not understand.
Is poor yet not barren, sent language unto the sea
sure that his strife be wise, his tears reigneth;
the men mocketh;
“Behold! The broken spirit! The words married in dust, every day overwhelmed, it shall run abomination among the land!”
Bitterness shall not snare things. Remove he and rage, feasting of earth and vision.
Slay the adversary, fell the trees
the bound feet turned to devour the locust.
“Trust no meat,” putteth the thief.
No transgression is against time.
they told me
to
write.

Violence and pleasure gives the folly of lovers strange and creeping words of the wild soul.
Lips drink the bruised heart because the horrible godthing rose to eat the people
feast for years upon every house, his hosts? The fathers
kill thine own children for they weepest upon the waters, have dismayed the morning, brough heads of discord in the house.
Let that word be dissembled by the elders.
Thy day numbered. Consider the dry sea and wilt.

Meat shall reign;
the mighty shall pass wind with the fat man and commit holy fire to the field.
Knowledge shall have destruction mingled with joy.
Strip the rebel heart of blood, it angers god, his head burnth away and that corrupted beauty in parts.
They shalt sit but talked not fine sacrifice
the rest turn over and wept unto the cherished idols.
Little came upon them, the pieces mingled with that lie.
Behold! ‘I’ is beaten, forsake ‘I’!
Lay down and the wind shall depart thee.

In her soulfire gave battle; spread wickedness to the innocent city.
Her voice turned lovers into smitten meat, pierced the towns.
Seek the eyes of children to spoil.
The woman came. Cut her heart for thee.
Transgressions borne among the father and daughter;
his last days shall be delivered by her.

So utterly done with the coast. Return to the city taken with the ending.

Know mercy. Took command. Sent spies down the valley.
Her fire hath died under the trees.

Oil thy bare flesh. Carnal noise and lewd wickedness in the blood.
Sin often. Is the pure high.
Behold, they made knowledge sweet, hadst words chosen provoke strange offering
pass like weeping angels upon thyself.
Stone the people.
No promise without captivity.
Drink of the honey flesh ’cause this kingdoms made of dead foundation;
sacrifices all of us without greatness.
Thine precept took away the world,
thou image write off under possible holy works.
Words spoken of heart, filled with time, thee dwelleth in silk with mine whoredom.
Must build before sons had taken place.
Burn forever, my sore lord, thy lips delight me.
Utterly marvelous I cometh;
desire is but the righteous.
Forget this nation,
help me fall right
in me, unto me,
this land shall perish.
This art of fire exalted.
Not mercy toward that enemy, I have eyes for him.
I see the lord in me. Down the mouth.

strip the flesh [ #biblecutup ]


strip the flesh to the soul and kill the strange words
they have mingled in discord because they bring fine knowledge
creeping upon lips ravished with pleasure.
Handmaiden of thy void, feast of the blood!
Avenge the leprous godthing and burnth the corrupted day,
bring destruction upon the heart and eat the years.

Be glad the flock will not slumber – I ground them for the wind.

::::the bible cut-ups:::: [ poetry ]


The project homepage can be found here.

The bible cut-ups is an on going series of short poems which uses completely deconstructed books of the bible as its source material. Having never read the bible but having pretty definitive opinions of christianity and christians I must say I am enjoying the project immensely. It can be followed live at #biblecutup as I find new hidden truths in that most holy of holies; The King James bible. Feel free to play along at home!

For a thorough overview of the methodology of the cut-up as well as it’s history click here.

Below is a cut-up of my cut-ups so far. Promises to be an ever evolving glorious mess. I’ll probably end up using it as a basis of a short story at some point, or at least a surreal epic poem.

skin thee now. I arise blackish yet not down. Am I myself? Prolong this judement, Touch that and speak of lies.
My father; made of scorpions. Will I counsel him? up your word, roughly. Men offered all but heard not.
My righteous lips forget him utterly.

the breath grew in everyday light.
its seed creepeth all evening –
Sore eyes toward the marvelous; that art of desire shall fall unto me.
LORD. LORD LORD; LORD LORD.
I cometh in thy mouth.
Mercy me.

die, strange children
they hast rebellious love.


Not much in the way of punctuation up in here but regardless enjoy this essay by William S. Burroughs. It originally appeared in Telos magazine in the 70s and can be found as an appendix in most copies of ‘the ticket that exploded’ – my copy of which is somewhere in Cardiff.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

what we see is determined to a large extent by what we hear
you can verify this proposition by a simple experiment – turn off the sound track of your television set and substitute an arbitrary sound track prerecorded on your tape recorder street sounds music conversation recordings of other television programs
you will find that the arbitrary sound track seems to be appropriate and is in fact determining your interpretation of the film track on screen
people running for a bus in piccadilly with a sound track of machine-gun fire looks like 1917 petrograde
you can extend the experiment by using recorded material more or less appropriate to the film track
for example take a political speech on television shut off sound track and substitute another speech you have prerecorded
hardly tell the difference isn’t much record sound track of one danger man from uncle spy program run it in place of another and see if your friends can’t tell the difference
it’s all done with tape recorders
consider this machine and what it can do it can record and play back activating a past time set by precise association
a recording can be played back any number of times
you can study and analyze every pause and inflection of a recorded conversation why did so and so say just that or this just here
play back so and so’s recordings and you will find out what cues so and so in you can edit a recorded conversation retaining material which is incisive witty and pertinent
you can edit a recorded conversation retaining remarks which are boring flat and silly
a tape recorder can play back fast slow or backwards you can learn to do these things record a sentence and speed it up now try imitating your accelerated voice play a sentence backwards and learn to unsay what you just said . . . such exercises bring you a liberation from old association locks

Click to continue reading The Invisible Generation

Burroughs: the movie


via Dangerous Minds.


For its anniversary edition of William S. Burroughs’ notorious Naked Lunch, which turns 50 this year, Grove Press has restored the wrapper from the 1959 succès de scandale. The first edition was published in France by Olympia Press, which subsidized highbrow censor-bait J.P. Donleavy’s The Ginger Man, Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita with one-handed bathroom reading sample titles: There’s a Whip in My Valise; Sarabande for a Bitch, much of it written pseudonymously by literati hard-pressed for rent money.

via Las Vegas Weekly : – “Naked Lunch” at 50.

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