Tag Archives: William Burroughs

See What I’m Saying

Posted on February 18, 2020 by

First sentence of William Burroughs’ The Wild Boys: “The camera is the eye of a cruising vulture flying over an area of scrub, rubble and unfinished buildings on the outskirts of Mexico City.” Burroughs thinks in pictures and his books … Continue reading →

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William Burroughs and Facts

Posted on May 18, 2018 by

William Burroughs tells Allen Ginsberg: “I am about to annunciate a philosophy called ‘factualism.’ All arguments, all nonsensical considerations as to what people ‘should do,’ are irrelevant. Ultimately there is only facts on all levels, and the more one argues, … Continue reading →

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Notes on William Burroughs to Allen Ginsberg May 5th, 1951

Posted on February 5, 2018 by

In a letter to Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs seems to be saying that he’s incapable of envy. Envy arises from a particular kind of ignorance, of which Burroughs has cured himself: “Envy and resentment is only possible when you can … Continue reading →

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Notes on The Soft Machine Chapter 10: “Last Hints”

Posted on November 13, 2017 by

This chapter is about Carl continuing his travels through space and time by finding a new body. He’s back in the city of catwalks and ladders and cable-cars in the middle of a jungle. Presumably he’s already changed bodies at … Continue reading →

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Notes on The Soft Machine Chapter 8: “I Sekuin”

Posted on November 6, 2017 by

“… the old hop smoking world I created …” Who created it? “I Sekuin …” Who are you? “I Sekuin Perfected These Arts Along The Streets Of Minraud.” Sekuin has perfected the art of image-control. Word dust blows through the … Continue reading →

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William Burroughs, Truth, and Storytelling

Posted on October 10, 2017 by

The young Burroughs liked to read adventure stories. The older Burroughs did too. Stories are about characters. What’s infuriating and gripping about a good character is that she’ll have blind spots, things the reader can see that she cannot. It … Continue reading →

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A Walk in the Sun

Posted on October 2, 2017 by

Summer heat wrinkles the air and dries the brain. I move slowly, under pressure, as if pondering a great thought. All I’m trying to do is remember why I got out of bed this morning. The sun’s warmth swallowing me … Continue reading →

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