Beer-Stained Notebook

After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say ‘I want to see the manager.’ – William Burroughs

You are perhaps aware of my affinity for William Burroughs.  Not the best guy in the world.  Understood.  But he was an amazing creature. 

Studying his Cut-Up style of composition, I decided I’d like to try. 

At the same time, the old man was undergoing a bit of an existential crisis.  He spun around in a cloudy circle for a week or so and finally decided – it was time – the solution was new goals.  New goals.  Simple, effective but what?  He decided – you may have heard this before – to clean his office, to organize his office, to detail his office.

He started with his desktop.  Piled across the entire surface three and four sedimentary levels worth, notes.  He had a bad habit of writing thoughts on a scrap of anything because that was better than his memory.  He had a notebook, oft forgot. 

His desktop turned out to be glass and somewhat sticky. 

This piece was cobbled together in 2015 and my office is as messy as ever. More so.

What Follows Are Actual Notes Scrawled

It dawns on me.  The question many are asking.  Like usual.  What is the meaning of life?  Did you ever wonder?  Break it down.  Let’s break it down.  “Nothing is true, everything is permitted,” Sabbah is supposed to have said.

“I don’t get the blues.  I give them.” – Chi-Raq.  I support the Trump-Osteen ticket.  A government for reality television, by reality television.  Donald’s not a fascist, he’s a control enthusiast.  Not a guy you’d want to hold your wallet or babysit your children.

Never let anyone try to diminish you.  And the “News.”  Do we really need to know somebody crashed into a tree?  Like my wife left me for another woman.

Why is your right to have an assault rifle protected by the Constitution but my right to ingest cannibis is not?  Online poker is wrong but internet day trading is fine.  Really? 

Money is not speech.

If government is the problem, why send the governors back?  Have you ever thought about all the people who died?  The key to life is to live many of them.

Avoid being stupid on purpose.  If you must be stupid, be stupid by accident.  We don’t have to agree, we just have to trust and respect each other.

Had one of those days where I did everything right but then I… [Note is torn right there.  Honest. – ed.]

All crime is theft and the solution is respect.  After my wife went to bed, I drank all the booze.  A victory for me is a grandchild’s laugh.  A victory for me is a boner.  Not at the same time, of course.

I’m at Rehab.  Can’t help thinking I’m the healthiest person in the place.  Love the music.  “Hooked on a feeling.”  Oooga Oooga.

Dreams With Sharp Teeth – Harlan Ellison.  Beauty is Embarrassing – Wayne White.  Never get high on your own supply.

Signs you might be a geezer.  The SI swim suit edition came four days ago and I still haven’t opened it.  After a certain age, life is a degenerative condition.

He had always seen crime as a sport.  If you lose, you better come back stronger, you better come back smarter.  Politics like sports, sports like the crime blotter.

There’s a fine line between being on thin ice and walking on water.  Nobody can walk on water.

In the late Seventies, there was an argument, runners vs. joggers.  And now I realize the joggers won.  Don’t care how much money you raised for charity, how fast did you go?

Turns out the key to success might be following many of the same rules I rebelled against all my life.  Did you learn anything?  The first person you have to fool is yourself.  Also the last person.

The Outlaw.

The extraordinary life of William S. Burroughs.

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/02/03/the-outlaw-2?mbid=nl_Sunday%20Longreads%20%2837%29&CNDID=39455882&spMailingID=8916407&spUserID=MTE0MTYzNDAzMzQ2S0&spJobID=921271349&spReportId=OTIxMjcxMzQ5S0

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