Abandoned After A Single Late Night Post...

J.G. Ballard R.I.P. 11.15.1930 - 4.19.2009

2009-04-19T20:34:00.000-07:00

"Fiction is a branch of neurology: the scenarios of nerve and blood vessels are the written mythologies of memory and desire."

Favorite

2009-03-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

Pg. 112 in the "Yellow" edition - ISBN 0-8021-3295-2

Burroughs sometimes recycles lines and quotes himself within various works. This sometimes leads to reading a line and knowing that it is Burroughs, but not recognizing which work the line came from. This happened last night when I stumbled across one of my favorite Burroughs lines, having forgotten that it originated in Naked Lunch.

"What's with the serum?"
"I don't know, but it sounds ominous. We better put a telepathic direction finder on Benway. The man's not to be trusted. Might do almost anything...Turn a massacre into a sex orgy..."
"Or a joke."
"Precisely. Arty type...No principles..."

Naked Lunch - The Editor As Influence

2009-03-05T21:01:00.000-08:00

Pg. 49 in the "Yellow" edition - ISBN 0-8021-3295-2

Followers of obsolete unthinkable trades, doodling in Etrucan, addicts of drugs not yet synthesized, black marketeers of World War III, excisors of telepathic sensitivity, osteopaths of the spirit, investigators of infractions denounced by bland paranoid chess players, servers of fragmentary warrants taken down in hebephrenic shorthand charging unspeakable mutilations of the spirit, officials of unconstituted police states, brokers of exquisite dreams and nostalgias tested on the sensitized cells of junk sickness and bartered for raw materials of the will, drinkers of the Heavy Gluid sealed in translucent amber of dreams.

Whatever narrative structure possessed by this book goes completely off the rails momentarily with the appearance of this poetically beautiful paragraph. I was always puzzled by the randomness of this paragraph, and the fact that the cadence of these words sounded very familiar.

It is widely believed and accepted within the lore of Naked Lunch that Allen Ginsberg helped WSB compile this book. Burroughs was involved in a fairly strict heroin regiment that took up most of his day and would sometimes write little "routines" to amuse himself. By all accounts he did not remember writing some of these. Most likely these routines would have been thrown aside and eventually discarded if not for Ginsberg collecting and compiling them. This is not meant in any way to discount Burroughs, but it's a simple fact that a heroin addiction and editing a novel are not two activities that are easy to pull off at the same time.

Hmm...Ginsberg...Howl. That's it! The paragraph above sounds very similar to Howl when filtered through my tin-ear for poetry. Howl saw the light of day in 1956 - three years before Naked Lunch. Thus the question arises: while editing did Ginsberg put a little too much of himself into that paragraph? Perhaps Burroughs had internalized Howl to some extent and this paragraph was a manifestation of that influence? Very intriguing, I will one day research this subject further.

RIP Ricardo Montalban 11.25.20 - 1.14.09

2009-01-14T21:09:00.000-08:00

Thanks for trying to teach all of us gawky guys growing up in the Eighties how to be suave.

The Chrysler Cordoba Commercial - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIL3fbGbU2o

Fantasy Island...the swinger discussion - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwaEydIpS0E

Khan rockin' the Shakespeare - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGokpLRVWWc

Of course, these clips are all expected, but did anyone know that Mr. Montalban also dabbled in the vocal arts???

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdidVDpfO4k

Naked Lunch - The Movie

2009-01-14T19:56:00.000-08:00

While working on the 'Dr. Benway' post, I unsuccessfully searched for a clip of Roy Scheider's excellent portrayal of the good doctor in the 1991 David Cronenberg adaptation of Naked Lunch.

What makes this film so intriguing is that it serves as more of a supplement to the book rather than a straight adaptation. Cronenberg knew that a straight adaptation of this book was impossible, so he incorporated some of the biographical weirdness that was Burroughs' life in the years surrounding the writing of Naked Lunch. Some source material from other Burroughs works creeps into the film as well. Mr. Robocop himself, Peter Weller, does an excellent job of playing the role of a young Burroughs operating under his early pseudonym of William Lee. The best way to describe this film is that it has a slight noir-ish feel while being steeped heavily in surrealism.

Anyone who may be interested in seeing this film should track down the Criterion Collection DVD, for a totally enriching...and wallet-lightening experience.

Here are a few clips to wet the appetite:
1) The "Talking Asshole" Routine: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIEXYn7vLBY

2) On The Way To The Party: It has been theorized that the man and woman talking to Lee in this scene are supposed to represent Paul and Jane Bowles...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wr_Ppfs3qKs

3) Sexual Ambivalence: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMt_JlKlxEM

4) A sample of the soundtrack by Ornette Coleman:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Elu4JvJCYs0

Thoughts on Naked Lunch - Dr. Benway

2009-01-11T20:25:00.000-08:00

Currently working from the 1992 "yellow" edition ISBN 0-8021-3295-2

Page twenty introduces us to the character of Dr. Benway.

Benway is a recurring character in Burroughs' works, and he is awesome. Basically, he serves as a stock "rogue" for whatever Burroughs is wanting to rail against at any particular time. Being first and foremost a doctor, Benway has been present whenever Uncle Bill wanted to point a crooked finger at the medical industry, but the character is also adept at playing the roles of the brutal, bureaucratic despot and even the wretched little shit that we encounter on a day-to-day basis.

In Naked Lunch, Benway is introduced as an advisor to the Freeland Republic. His job as advisor involves injecting a system of subjugation and control into the well-adjusted society. Anyone that is familiar at all with Burroughs will recognize the idea of control through societal mechanizations and the individuals recognition of this fact and subsequent attempts at rebellion as an over-arching theme in most of his work. To me, this has always positioned the Benway character in such a way as to come off as both scary and funny. Almost a sort of Boss Hogg from the "Dukes of Hazzard" thing going on there.

Here is an interesting little thing that I found, Burroughs reading and acting out the piece "Dr. Benway Operates". Kind of silly, not sure who managed to talk him into doing this, but we get to hear that awesome reading voice of his.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgpfmehW7iE

RIP Ron Asheton 7.17.48 - 1.6.09

2009-01-06T20:00:00.000-08:00

Ron Asheton was the guitarist for the Stooges. His guitar work on the albums "The Stooges"(1969) and "Funhouse"(1970) added a new chapter in the history of real rock 'n roll and heavily influenced punk rock. Both of these albums along with "Raw Power"(1973) still sound modern and dangerous nearly forty years later.

Thank you, Ron, for making my life just a little happier with your music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ojti8oEZI7g&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3szmFQyIm-4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3hiEkHKZ2A&feature=related

Thoughts on Naked Lunch

2009-01-01T19:17:00.000-08:00

Currently working from the 1992 "yellow" edition
ISBN 0-8021-3295-2

One of the things that I have always loved about this book is that there is a rhythmic quality to the prose that is done in such a way as to be totally mysterious to me, similar to the hard-boiled pulp style of literature or a hip hop song. It seems almost as if Uncle Bill is standing behind me as I read and whispering the words into my ear in that beautiful, nasally voice of his.

Prior to page eight the book seems to be shaping into a hard biting tale of outsider culture in late 1950's America. When I say outsider culture, i'm speaking of the world of junkies, homosexuals, con men, and others who were living beyond the pale of suburban, "straight" society.

With the introduction of Willy the Disk on page eight, the reader comes to the realization that things may be amiss.

"Well, the fuzz has my spoon and dropper, and I know they are coming in on my frequency led by this blind pidgeon know as Willy the Disk. Willy has a round, disk mouth lined with sensitive, erectile black hairs. He is blind from shooting in the eyeball, his nose and palate eaten away sniffing H, his body a mass of scar tissue hard and dry as wood. He can only eat the shit now with that mouth, sometimes sways out on a long tube of ectoplasm, feeling for the silent frequency of junk. He follows my trail all over the city into rooms I move out already, and the fuzz walks in some newlyweds from Sioux Falls."

When a guy like Willy is helping the cops track you down, it's a sure bet that your life is taking a distinctive turn in the surreal direction.

"So we stock up on H, buy a second-hand Studebaker, and start West."

In Praise of The Birthday Party

2008-12-30T20:34:00.000-08:00

Truly great bands tend to transcend any type of genre classification musically. The sad thing is that because we white, European descended types tend to like everything nicely arranged and categorized, many brilliant bands went unnoticed during their heyday. While we are a little more accepting now (after 30 years of training), this was especially true in the early Eighties.

The Birthday Party was an Australian band that explored new musical territory in the early 1980's. Music journalists and other folks who are paid to categorize unfamiliar things branded them either post-punk or else precursors to the "No Wave" scene that gained prominence in NYC. The band consisted of a young Nick Cave as frontman and several of his schoolmates.

To my ear they embodied a bit of the darkness of the early Goth bands like Bauhaus while also constantly teetering on the edge of chaos like the Sex Pistols or more appropriately The Stooges. There are two kinds of chaos in music, the art damaged kind and the dangerous kind. The art damaged sort of chaos is actually a controlled, "pretend" chaos, and I would include Japanese noise bands like Melt Banana or the Boredoms as well as John Zorn in this category. The second type is the real deal, in that "drunk guy on the street that you better steer clear of" sort of way. The Stooges had this as did the Sex Pistols, and I believe that the Birthday Party had it in spades. They had also gotten wind of the goth moniker and resented it immensely as they went out of their way to escew the label. Notice in the pic above how bassist Tracy Pew was going for the "Village People cowboy" look?

The not so well kept secret here is that these guys could effectively channel chaos because their existence was chaos. It was the ultimate rock 'n roll lifestyle (including heroin, sadly) filtered through Cave's penchant for that odd mix of the tortured street artist and an emerging fascination with the works of American Southern writers coupled with the awesome musicianship of Mick Harvey and Rowland S. Howard.

Here are a couple selections of my favorite song lyrics:

Zoo Music Girl

"...The sound is beautiful, it's perfect!
The sound of her young legs in stockings
The rhythm of her walk, it's beautiful
Just let it twist, let it break
Let it buckle, let it bend
I want to hear the noise of my Zoo Music Girl..."

Happy Birthday

"...And its another happy day.
He was born eleven years ago
And this year its long trousers
And a very smart tie.
Just think in five years he'll be shaving.
And see how his face glows
Its a ninja sword. What a surprise!
Its a samurai sword.
What a metal surprise.
Hell remember this day for the rest of his life.

But the best thing there
Is that fabulous dog chair
The immaculate dog chair
That could count right up to eleven
It went woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, woof..."

In 1983 the band ultimately succumbed to the chaos and imploded. Due to member changes the final Birthday Party EP, "The Bad Seed/Mutiny" had a more somber tone. As one would assume, this musical style and band line-up soon evolved into an early version of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Most of the video clips available online of The Birthday Party unfortunately have horrible sound quality, but this one is not too bad:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5I2vEcVC_I

Obviously, I did not come out of the womb knowing all of this info, so some sources might be in order...

"Bad Seed - The Biography of Nick Cave" - by Ian Johnston - Probably one of the most depressing biographies that I have ever read.
http://www.amazon.com/Bad-Seed-Biography-Nick-Cave/dp/0349107785/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1230701569&sr=1-2

Wikipedia as a lazy man's fact checker:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Birthday_Party_(band)

Found Object #1

2008-12-30T20:26:00.000-08:00

This appears to be a somewhat bawdy cocktail napkin. It was given to a man by a woman that he was involved in an extramarital affair with in the early 1970's. We discovered this upon moving into our house in July 2007.

Seperated at birth???

2008-12-28T02:01:00.000-08:00

What this tells me is that there are several things that Edward Cullen will never do. These include:

1. Give you up

2. Let you down

3. Run around, and desert you

4. Make you cry

5. Say "Goodbye"

6. Tell a lie, and hurt you

Love for Isaac

2008-12-28T01:16:00.000-08:00

For the last few months I have been absolutely addicted to http://www.goodreads.com/. If you are into books and the geeks who love them, you definitely need to check this site out. Recently, one of my GR pals, David (who may be one of the funniest people on the interwebs), posted the lyrics to the theme song of the hit tv show from the eighties "The Love Boat". Anyone who grew up with only one tv in the house was surely subjected to this show every Saturday night. His post brought back some memories...

I always wondered, even as a kid, how Love Boat bartender Isaac Washington always knew which bar to be in at any given point. There were at least eight bars on that ship, and Isaac was always around to offer whatever wit/wisdom/martini that was required by a guest.

As with all of life's perplexing questions, I found the answer to this at the moment of least expecting. That moment was during the mid-90's, and took place during a late night channel surfing fest that was most likely chemically enhanced. The revelation involved an infomercial for the Psychic Friends Network that included a celebrity testimonial by Ted Lange, the actor that played the part of Isaac. Eureka! Isaac was channeling Dionne Warwick and her pals to figure out which bar to make an appearance.

Also, during the early 80's, folks were by and large still uncomfortable with the concept of the interracial relationship. That's why it was so awesome to see a single, black, female boarding the Love Boat during the opening sequence, because we all knew that Isaac was going to get lucky in that episode.

While this show was a big hit during that era, it's obvious that everyone was just biding their time until Fantasy Island came on...but that's another post for another day.

Random thought: Doesn't Gavin McLeod, who plays the part of Captain Stubing, look a hell of a lot like Larry David sans glasses?

Fiftieth Anniversary of Naked Lunch

2008-12-28T00:44:00.000-08:00

This is the real reason that I have resurrected this blog. Next year will mark the fiftieth anniversary of the initial publication of William S. Burroughs' Naked Lunch. While one could debate the "literary merit" of this book all day long, it holds a special place in my heart as it was the final straw in liberating me from the Midwest, Bible belt sensibilities that was my reality until 1992.

Special events are currently planned to take place in New York, Los Angeles, and Paris in honor of this book, but it is highly doubtful that I will make it to any of these celebrations. In an attempt to carry my own torch, I pledge to read at least a paragraph of this book every day for the entire year. As the picture above denotes, I will be working from two different versions of the book - the yellow covered old school version and the new-fangled "Restored Text" version from a few years back. Any random insights gained during this exercise will be posted here.

As this is one of the most visceral, disturbing books that I remember having ever read, it will be interesting to see the changes in my psyche that may occur in the coming year.

The Gertrude Stein Mystery

2008-12-27T22:45:00.000-08:00

Book hoarding is one of my major vices (aside from all the others). Used bookstores are the worst, because I cannot resist the prices. Any title stumbled across in a used bookstore that I suspect that I will desire to read at some indeterminate point over the course of my lifetime is quickly snapped up to take its rightful place on my bookshelf. I already had a formidable collection of books right out of college, having had to buy many of them for classes. Some of these have not been read cover-to-cover, as the course readings would involve only a few selections. The Gertrude Stein collection pictured above falls into this category.

The nice thing about having too many books is that one can peruse randomly on a given night when the attention span required for heavy reading is absent. This is exactly what I was doing the other night when I discovered that someone had "autographed" the inside cover of the Stein collection with the words "To Matt: read me well. Gertrude Stein".

Utterly bizarre.

I completely understand the fake autograph as a joke bomb. Hell, I wish I would have thought of that first. I seem to remember a really old interview with Boyd Rice where he mentions leaving Post-It notes behind picture frames in hotels all over this country that say things like "Help, they've kidnapped me!". These are the kinds of pranks that are more funny imagining the reaction of the person who discovers them than seeing it all go down in real time.

The most perplexing thing here is why did the unijoke-bomber choose the Gertrude Stein book? The more pedestrian sense of humor would have obviously gone for something more mainstream like Stephen King or even William Gibson. To choose the Gertrude Stein book means that the perpetrator definitely has an off-kilter, warped sense of humor.

The investigation was on. As I have owned this book for nearly twelve years now (damn, i'm old), I believed that it was best to start working backwards. The handwriting was obviously feminine and oddly familiar so I started by questioning my wife. She had the means and probably the motive, as hanging out with me for all of these years has to warp one's sensibilites at some level. Her alibi checked out, so I had to cross her off of the "persons of interest" list. She was also willing to help with the investigation, as she dropped a possible dime on her sister Kim.

Ah, Kim. The PhD candidate in 19th Century Lit. Everyone knows about those 19th Century Lit. graduate students....shifty, unprincipled. It had to be Kim. On a Christmas Day confrontation of Big Lebowski proportions, I confronted Kim with the evidence. Dare I say that she played the part of the bemused Larry Sellers to my "mind like a steel trap" portrayal of Walter. Upon her admission that she wishes she could confess to such an act, her name was crossed off the list.

Unfortunately, this investigation has now gone cold. Three possible theories remain:

1. One of the ladies kind enough to consort with me back in the day was much wittier than I gave her credit for.

2. One of my literary wag friends from back in the day had really girly handwriting.

3. It was Jack the Ripper.

Any tipsters with a thirst for justice or deathbed confessors feel free to absolve your conscience in the comments area below.

The Marquette

2004-09-09T23:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my wife and I went to an open house for the Marquette Hotel in Cape Girardeau, MO. First, some background about the Marquette. When it first opened in 1929, the Marquette was THE place for the elite to meet in good ole' Cape. It was a luxury hotel that would run you $1.50 a night to experience the hustle and bustle that was downtown Cape Girardeau in 1929 (expect to shell our $2 or $3 if you wanted a room with a private bath).

The story follows the familiar refrain of almost every downtown district in the US, and over time no one really wanted to experience the luxury of a hotel located in a slowly dying downtown business district. As the condition of the building began to decline, it was sold to local businessman Thad Bullock sometime in the 1960's. By all accounts, Mr. Bullock was a true character. He had a big red nose and receding white hairline, sort of like a kindly W.C. Fields with glasses. Over time, he ceased the operation of the hotel, and converted the first floor into a store that sold pianos and organs. It was said that he would often sit in the front window of his store, playing the organ while smiling and waving at passerbyes. I remember in particular my brother-in-law making comments about seeing Thad in the front window, grinning and playing with his organ...

One of Thad's other passions was politics. Throughout my lifetime, he would run for US Representative in almost every election. Although he had a vast arsenal of campaign signs that would appear all over town during election time, his main campaign strategy seemed to be that he would load up his piano and tour the nursing home circuit. Consequently, Thad never managed to get more than a few hundred popular votes. With his love of politics remaining unrequited, he passed away some time in the early 1990's.

Thad's heirs, having lives of their own, seemed unable to decide what to do with the unoccupied six story building. The solution that they came up with seemed to be to take the path of least resistance, which was to just let it sit there. A few years ago, the Cape Girardeau City Council had finally had enough, speaking out that they did not want this old, decaying building to ruin the good name of all of the taverns, consignment (junk) shops, and tattoo parlors in the downtown area. If Thad's heirs were not going to do something about the building, the city would move to tear it down.

A flurry of action began shortly after this announcement. A local historic preservation society got involved in the situation, and someone somewhere decided that the building might be useful, as it was rather strategically located just across the street from the Federal Courthouse. Committees were formed, deals were made, Satan and his minions were kept on retainer, and it was soon decided that the building would be bought and restored in order to house state government offices. Much rejoicing and dancing in the streets followed said announcement. After close to two years of renovation, the Marquette was once again ready to be safely occupied and to take back it's former glory. Thus we have returned to the original point of this rant, the open house for the newly restored Marquette.

My impressions: the outside of the building looked very good, pretty much how I would have imagined it to be in the 1930's. The same goes for the entryway on the first floor, which had marble floors and decor that seemed to declare historical authenticity (I know very little about the specifics of historical interior design, so I am easily fooled). Also, it must be remembered that I had never actually been inside the building, as I was never really in the market for a new organ during my four to twelve year old age period. A nice fake fireplace was included, along with glass cases that contained relics of the original Marquette. The seventh floor was also nicely done. It had originally been an open air garden on the roof, but it had been redone as a spacious room (possibly suitable for a restaurant, we were told) with walkouts to the balcony area. My only complaint about the balcony area was that the historic looking railing had barricades around them to keep you from looking directly over the edge. I mean, what good is a balcony if you cannot spit on people's heads or be Mr. "Life sucks, I'm gonna jump" Guy if the situation warrants it?

Floors two through six consisted of (you may have guessed already...) government offices. Unfortunately, they were not circa 1929 government offices, just plain 2004 government offices. I have the feeling that no matter what your station is in life, you know what government offices look like. Whether it is the DMV, Social Security, Unemployment, or Parole office, they are almost all the same, with white walls, blue-ish carpeting, cubicles, and the wooden stand full of relevant pamphlets next to the main door (ya know, I have never really looked closely at those pamphlets...I wonder if they are all written by the good folks of Pueblo, CO?). The overall goal of government office decor seems to imply "We are the government and we are very busy, don't fuck with us." Essentially, while touring these floors, I was a little scared that a grouchy, old lady was going to collar me and make me take the road sign identification test through the big View-Master, or else some non-descript, blue-suit, big ass dude with a hearing aid was going to detain me and ask "Was I now, or have I ever been a member of the Communist party?".

All in all, I am happy that the Marquette did not taste the wrecking ball and that I got to see it. However, the fact that a majority of the building is office space and that it will probably never again be a ritzy hotel is also a bittersweet solace.