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23 RANDOM PARAGRAPHS FROM NAKED LUNCH

Naked Lunch is a novel by American writer William S. Burroughs, originally published in 1959. The book is structured as a series of loosely connected vignettes. Burroughs stated that the chapters are intended to be read in any order. wikipedia

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WSB reads 23 random sentences from Naked Lunch

1 The boy cuts himself down with a switch-blade, chases a screaming fag down the midway. The faggot dives through the glass of a penny arcade peep-show and rims a grinning Negro. Fadeout.

2 And a rich man passed and stared at the monster and “Fats” rolled pissing and shitting in terror and ate his shit and the man was moved by this tribute to his potent gaze and clicked a coin out of his Friday cane (Friday is Moslem Sunday when the rich are supposed to distribute alms ).

3 “But that’s only one angle. Mescaline, LSD6, deteriorated adrenaline, harmaline can produce an approximat~ schizophrenia. The best stuff is extracted from the blood of schizos; so schizophrenia is likely a drug psychosis. They got a metabolic connection, a Man Within you might say. ( Interested readers are referred to Appendix. )

4 Look down at my filthy trousers, haven’t been changed in months…. The days glide by strung on a syringe with a long thread of blood…. I am forget-ting sex and all sharp pleasures of the body — a grey, junk-bound ghost. The Spanish boys call me El Hom-bre Invisible — the Invisible Man….

5 Ball squeezed dry lemon rind pest rims the ass with a knife cut off a piece of hash for the water pipe-bubble bubble — indicate what used to be me..

6 D.A.:“Gentlemen of the jury, these ‘learned gentlemen’ claim that the innocent human creature they have so wantonly slain suddenly turned himself into a huge black centipede and it was ‘their duty to the human race’ to destroy this monster before it could, by any means at its disposal, perpetrate its kind….

7 Violation Public Health Law 334… Procuring an orgasm by the use of fraud….

8 He looked at me through the tentative, ectoplasmic flesh of cure… thirty pounds materialized in a month when you kick… soft pink putty that fades at the first silent touch of junk…. I saw it happen… ten pounds lost in ten minutes… standing there with the syringe in one hand… holding his pants up with the other

9 “The Green Door, Carl?”

10 JUNKY: “So there we are in this no-horse town strictly from cough syrup.”

11 Hauser turned to me abruptly. “You through yet?” he snarled. “You’d better not try to shit us on Marty.” The words came out so ugly he surprised and shocked himself.

12 When he moved an effluvia of mold drifted out of his clothes, a musty smell of deserted locker rooms. He studied his nails with phosphorescent intensity.

13 “What’s the commission?… The commission…. The Commission.”

14 “Well… Yeah.”

15 “Barefoot boy, check thy bullheads with the ma-dame.”

16 “Your plan was unworkable then and useless now. …Like Da Vinci’s Hying machine plans….”

17 Iris — half Chinese and half Negro — addicted to dihydro-oxy-heroin — takes a shot every fifteen minutes to which end she leaves droppers and needles sticking out all over her. The needles rust in her dry flesh, which, here and there, has grown completely over a joint to form a smooth green brown wen. On the table in front of her is a samovar of tea and a twenty-pound hamper of brown sugar. No one has ever seen her eat anything else. It -is only just before a shot that she hears what anyone says or talks herself. Then she makes some flat, factual statement relative to her own person.

18 The Dream Police disintegrate in globs of rotten ectoplasm swept away by an old junky, coughing and spitting in the sick morning. The Mugwump Man comes with alabaster jars of fluid and the Reptiles get smoothed out.

19 “That seems reasonable,” he said.

20 (Section describing The City and the Meet Cafe written in state of Yage intoxication… Yage, Ayua-huasca, Pilde, Nateema are Indian names for Banni-steria Caapi, a fast growing vine indigenous to the Amazon region. See discussion of Yage in Appendix. )

21 “A pen wiper, he says.”

22 Salvador, known as Sally to his friends — he always keeps a few “friends” around and pays them by the hour — got cured in the slunk business in World War II. (To get cured means to get rich. Expression used by Texas oil men.) The Pure Food and Drug Department have his picture in their files, a heavy faced man with an embalmed look as if paraffin had been injected under the skin which is smooth, shiny and poreless. One eye is dead grey color, round as a marble, with flaws and opaque spots. The other is black and shiny, an old undreaming insect eye.

23 He nods, “Come back in half an hour.”