My mane is Richard Désilets. I am a composer from Montréal, Canada.

I recently compose a music with some extracts from William Burroughs Apocalypse poem.

My question is : Do you know to who I should ask the right to use some extracts of that poem.

bill was by far the best writer i have ever read. i wish i could
have met him. i look at him as more of a god than an old junky
writer.

On Good Friday of 1994, I drove all night from Duluth, MN to Lawrence, KS in hopes of meeting WSB. After a
series of adventurous too lengthy to go into here, I finally tracked down his address, and knocked on his
door. He was cordial, gentle, and polite. He walked me around his grounds, showed me his fish pond ("I've
seen goldfish frozen solid, but they're fine when the thaw hits."), one of his cats (Ginger), and talked about
a friend he had from Minnesota (who just happened to be in Husker Du). Though it only lasted 10 minutes or
so, it remains one of my favorite memories, and something of a defining moment in my life.

We love people like William S. Burroughs.

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Dinners in exclusive restaurants (French, Indonesian, Thai, Indian, vegetarian, etc.) and meetings in 4/5 star hotelbars in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Visitors are familiar with the works of 200 individualistic scientists, writers, speakers. Humanistic-, transpersonal- and quantum psychology.
Psychiatry, philosophy, sexology, sociology, astrology, alternative medicine, alternative therapy, enlightenment, new age, spirituality, meditation, bodywork, massage, art, travel, books and last but not least, entertainment.


Dear Madam, Sir,
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The Halcyon Cosmopolitan Entertainment
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I have no desire to start a "flame war" on this list, but I feel compelled to respond to the filthy screed posted by one "tfg" who, having read Burroughs' Thanksgiving message on the net, desired to "spit in his face," for reasons that are unknown to me. This miserable cretin expressed hopes that Burroughs was "rottening in hell," (sic) and the rest of the message was as incoherent and vile as one might expect from a person of such a loathsome mentality. I suppose that it is not surprising that Burroughs was could inspire hatred as easily as he could inspire devotion, but to wish for a dead man to rot in hell after he is gone and can no longer defend himself -- well, that pretty much speaks for itself. If the world IS divided into the "Johnsons" and the "obligate shits," as Burroughs said, my guess is that tfg is one of the latter. When YOU die and go to hell, tfg, whoever you are, you may find yourself the recipient of the very torment you wished on Burroughs. If there is any kind of cosmic justice at work, it will certainly come to that. What a classless jerk you showed yourself to be...and I suspect that your hatred of Burroughs is predicated on envy of his enormous talent and a fear of the freedom which he defended so eloquently. See you in hell, tfg....it seems to be a place designed for people just like you.

i can remember one day at the beach.i went there with one of my cousins and his friends. they were smoking hash but i didn´t. i was only listening on my headphones joy division´s unknown p`leasures and reading the naked lunch. i get at chapter a.j. annual party, and i can´t remember what happened. everything had disappeared there were only the smell of smoke and the music in my ears. i was reading with my eyes closed. the lyrics were coming into me but i didn´t know how. that was the wsb work.

I read his thanks giving prayer on the net, it too bad he is already dead, this deprives me of my right to spit in his face. No need to give my name or address because he is rottening in hell where he belongs.

long winding road eye see small thing on way ... watch they see

Burroughs was the man!! and still is the man!!!
i hope he's up in orbit, too!

I posted these messages nearly a year ago, but it seems that they are no longer accessible.
I am a paranoid artist, affected by little in this hypocritical world, but the more I learn about
WSB, I realise I wouldn't have it any other way.

Like th man said; how random is random? I used to think it was just coincidence that I
became interested in WSB, but as I continue to educate myself with his work,
it becomes more apparent that th was not true at all.
I often find myself reading (random!) sentences of his work and experiencing brief
regenerations of mi consciousness, or just laughing out loud at unironic irony.
Even though I had expected it for some time, I still cannot absorb th fact he has gone,
with so many people keeping his combination of words alive, it looks like he never.
On the 23rd nov last year, I had a dream where I was travelling on th top deck of a
prestine bus (yes it had no fuel) along a foggy motorway with th man himself,
something about controlling th visibility ahead an driving into a mother&child
at 80mph. mmmm well now. I actually got on th Burroughs ????? when I was 14
from seeing a copy of Naked Lunch in a fashion shoot, so I bought th book (as you do
when it presented alongside a good-looking model) after the first chapter I was
convinced I was experiencing cold-turkey, Turn-key and I knew I was onto something
important. (partly because I couldn't understand it, I just presumed it was such an
advanced style of writing, I would have to read it again when I was 30) anyway it is now
5 years later and have still not read it in order, but cover to cover, yes, seeing as it was written
out of order I do not see that as a dis advantage. I used to wonder why certain aspects
of my life stayed constant, even when I knew no-one who shared my interest, I know
that to use a corny phrase 'it was ment to be'.
Thank you Bill for putting me in the right direction.

To finish, something I wrote about what Burroughs does for me.
and a couple of short quotes.

Pur emelting honey down my neksides bliss
taste full of frequent ash
Shut, fall and sinus crack
ill buzz waiting in lonely sands (ambush soon)
sea teeth flash
bloom ditto bloom for one more
tide-sync error fading
over

"Please to be restful, it is only a few crazies who have from the crazy place outbroken."

"She (the airline hostess, of course) leans over us to murmur of chewing gum, Dramamine
even Nembutal. talk paregoric, sweet thing, and I will hear."

'Unfinished Cigarette' and 'The Inferential Kid' (from the Burroughs File)
are two texts I would also like to quote, but the whole book is fascinating.

-SHOWN-
ps peace to cyan an all that lies tween blue&green

& #*(!"!=%

my clark-nova's speaking to me...it says you checked out of the flesh gimmick not a moment too soon. The Nova conspiracy's reaching fruition...it's a sick picture, Bill...no va...no go...no bueno. TIME TO GO!

I sent this message once already, but I think it is important, so here goes again....I teach a course devoted to the lietrature of the Beat Generation at a NYC high school, and I am happy to report that the course has been well received by both the students and the faculty, with a couple of minor exceptions. I wanted to focus primarily on Ginsberg, Kerouac and Burroughs, but of these three, Burroughs presented me with the greatest challenge. I am just starting "Junky" in fact, with my students, and the challenge here is presenting this controversial material (drug addiction) without getting into hot water. Truth is, Ole Doc Benway does present me with the greatest challenge. Many of my female colleagues detest Burroughs, largely because of his misogynistic utterances, but other people loath him for his cranky emphasis on human freedom, which makes me wonder more about THEM than anything else. But I have to admit that Burroughs, to me, represents one of the true literary heroes of the twentieth century. I do nnot think I have to go into great detail here about the literary value of Burroughs' writings, although I have to admit that not all of his work is necessarily of the highest quality. In fact, some of it is, I think, poorly executed and almost incoherent and even Burroughs has admitted this about his early books. On the other hand, he deserves enormous credit for his emphasis on personal liberty and his hatred of the arbitrary abuse of power by the control addicts who systematically and persistently have done everything to maintain and keep the power to which they are addicted. For his iconoclasm, his apolitical stance, his rejection of all creeds, ideologies, movements, religions, causes, what-have-you, I think he deserves the highest praise. I admire him because of his fearless insistence on independence and his rejection of the sentimental tripe that passes for popular culture. His obsessive interest in the word as a "virus," and his efforts to understand what power the word has makes him unique, I suppose, to the Deconstructionists among us, but I have also heard him assert that such people are full of shit because of their candy-ass emphasis on expunging all "politically incorrect" expressions from the language. In fact, any attempt on the part of any group to co-opt Burroughs and turn him into a shill for their cause would, naturally, be a miserable failure, as it deserves to be. But right now, my students are fortunate enough to hear the TRUTH about drug addiction from a man who knows the score,and who presents the facts without bullshit or prevarication, and who makes no apologies for how he has lived his life. In an era of relentless propagandizing, misinformation, hypocrisy and cowardice, his clear-eyed and authoritative take on drug addiction is a welcome breath of fresh air. In my research for teaching this book, I uncovered a ton of infromation for my students which will support Burroughs' thesis that the so-called "war on drugs" is a fucking sham and has probably done more to propagate harm than anything else. And I myself am relentless and unapologetic as well in my attempts to present these students with an alternative point of view. I owe it them to present the facts such as they are, because while teen-agers may be stupid enough to try heroin, they are NOT stupid enough to believe the bullshit that so-called "drug experts" put down for them. I think Burroughs would have been pleased. And, surprisingly, the parents of my students (who are baby boomers in their 40's & 50's) actually APPRECIATE my efforts to give their kids a balanced view of the subject. I guess that proves something, too. Moreover, I live in NYC, where our self-righteous prick of a mayor is about to abolish methdadone programs on the specious premise that addicts should have to get well "without the help of medication" not even realizing that taking people off methadone will turn them back into heroin addicts who will commit crimes to get the drugs they need and thus give him a pretext for implementing more draconian policies and thus grandstand to his ignorant constituents on the backs of sick junkies. Well, maybe this approach of mine will help, but who knows? The propagandists out there are busy overtime harassing innocent citizens with drug tests, illegal search and seizure techniques, wire-tapping, drug-sniffing dogs and God knows what else. With a hearty "fuck you" to the mayor and every other self-righteous control freak out there, I gladly and enthusiastically offer my efforts to fight my own "drug war," with the help of Ole Doc Benway. In any case, there is no need for me to belabor the point. I have read the other contributions to this memorial page with satisfaction, knowing that a good number of people out there are spreading the word of the good doctor as I am trying to do. Unfortunately, because of the times in which we live, I will have to sign this with a pseudonym, because you never know what kind of sneaky crpto-fascist bastards working for the NYC Board of Ed will misconstrue my words so they can accuse me of encouraging drug use, which, of course I am not. Wherever "Honest Bill" is now, I do not know......I DO know that he once said "You CAN survive your physical death," and I take that as an encouraging sign. If that is true, then it means that he knows what I am doing and why I am doing it. In the name of freedom, dignity, independence and individuality, I humbly offer my love and praise to the man whose entire life -- all things notwithstanding -- is an eloquent testimony to the freedom we all cherish as human beings. God bless you, Bill.....and thank you for all you have done.

This man is probably the most important fucking
American writer of this century.[Twentieth] Not to mention
he made me laugh like a hyena.

I am the grandson of a man who, as it seems, worked for Mr. Burroughs. My grandfather has had a complicated life in which my mother was the first, complications which turned out as a blessing in disguise, because it kept him from going to Germany during the war! He later had a son who would take his leg in a silly accident with a motorcycle. He suffers because of it and cancer now, and does not see many years ahead! I have known him only shortly as a new e-mail friend and I have asked for his life story which seems to include Mr. Burroughs, who, from his account, hired him at the "highest wage possible" ( I am not sure if this was personally or not) for the position he held at the time! I know that even now my grandfather is a UNIX GURU, if you will, and I revere the personal time we have now, even if it is only e-mail. I would only ask that if the host of this site or others having insite into this matter would validate my fathers interraction with this obviously great man and my grandfathers contributions to his greatness. Please e-mail "evermind74@hotmail.com" with any comments you may have regarding this matter! Thank you for your time and interest!

Sincerely
James Smith

Burroughs always seemed immortal. He lived through addictions, mad thoughts, mad people. He somehow managed to live on the brink of never being at all. I don't really believe Burroughs will ever die, I don't believe he was ever alive in the conventional sense that most of humanity wakes up to every morning, forgetting their fragmented, fucked up dreams. Burroughs cannot die because he's immortal in having never existed like the rest.

I need imput for a critical analysis project.

Any help is greatly appreciated.
i.e.-opinions
character analysis
comments, ect.

e-mail freejunk@hotmail.com

THANKS!!

There goes the last relic of old decency. So long, Bill; thanks for writing. Hope the Western Lands pan out all right for you.

CONTROL IS CONTROLLED BY ITS NEED TO CONTROL. WE ARE ALL HERE TO GO. IT IS PERSISTING, YES..........THANK YOU.

Let me introduce myself. I am Elliot Strange. 16 years old and already messed up enough to be
'an artist' or at least that's what they tell me. I remember about a year ago I was cleaning my
room and as I did I collected all of the audio tapes in one place, to figure out what was on
them later. When I got around to it I found most contained unknown music and a few contained
broadcasts of the local college Trivia Challange (a three day long radio competition)... the
last tape I examined was an unlabeled one-hundred-twenty minute maxell cassete. It contained
what would eventually set my life in another direction: William S. Burroughs' "Spare Ass Annie
and Other Tales". The first time I listened to it the very first story (Spare Ass Annie) was so
disturbing to me that I had to turn it off. Well, time progressed and I finally decided to just
listen to the whole tape, straight through, no matter how disturbing it became. I did just that.
It was amazing. (The stories [tracks] contained, by the way are listed at
http://store2.ubl.com/Album.asp?a_id=R+++188110 in case you're wondering which pieces
were on the tape) I came to love the tape for all it was: disgusting, disturbing, enlightening,
entertaining, and outright wonderful. I found out from my brother it was the work of one
William S. Burroughs. This is what introduced me to the beat generation and all it's literature.
Since then I've read every text I could get off the internet as well as Naked Lunch (of
course) and aside from WSB, delved into whatever beat writings I could get my hands on.
I stand now more complete than I ever was. I feel all this is best summed up in a quote from
WSB: "In the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents.
Nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen. The dogma of science is that the
will cannot possibly affect external forces, and I think that's just ridiculous. It's as
bad as the church. My viewpoint is the exact contrary of the scientific viewpoint. I
believe that if you run into somebody in the street it's for a reason. Among primitive
people they say if someone was bitten by a snake he was murdered. I believe that."

This is my story.
This is my life.
Elliot R. Strange

I hope he knows, where ever he is, that he has succeeded.

one of the most unique and impressive creatures ever
the universe has lost one of its essential components
talk to Mescalito in search for the giant centipede

Living in Nigeria it's difficult to be in touch...I didn't know B had died. That's how out of touch.
Surprised.

burroughs was my meganine

Bill b.\changed my life... push the bulb and let it all rush in...hungry junk cells collide in
extacy.....WE will miss your presence bill.Thank YOU for Everything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

when it rises it rises and it is big


thank you w s b

I'v been reading wsb's books since i was 16. I'm 24 now, trying to write myslf, and extremely influenced
by him. My first encounter with wsb's works was, strangly enough, was after I watched "naked lunch"
(the movie). I bought the book the next day. it's very hard to find his books here in Israel, but somehow I
maneged to collect 25 of them so far.
very glad to be a part of his project.

Well,well,well...
Mr. B don`t feel the beat anymore
So not And So nice
Mr. B lives twice

.... ....
.... ....
.... ....



Have fun!

Surly old bastard, but I like that in a man. What do we do now? We carry the torch and hope we don't burn ourselves on it.

DJ Morrison

To whom it may concern;

My artistic name is KBS, I'm a singer from North Africa.
The music that I play can be considered as a mix between Orient and Occident in the categories World Music and rock.
I have 4 videos, one album and few other songs...
In 1996 in Switzerland, I represented my country, Morocco, at MJF(Montreux Jazz Festival).
I was the guest of many programs:
- Radio: Radio FM Casablanca, Radio Maroc Rabat, Radio Tanger, Radio RFI (France).
- TV: TV RTM Maroc, TV 2M Maroc, MCM(France).
I would like to meet a professionnal manager. And I wish that our conjucture will be a success in the USA and therefore in the world.

For more information, contact KBS at:
Tel: 718-263-9401
E-mail: smires@usa.net

un riferimento, così vicino così lontano ...grazie bill

FONDAMENTALE
grazie dall'interzona inc.

It has been over a year. I still find it hard to accept. I know he didn't take great care of him self(the extreme living and all). I guess I had accepted that he was immortal. If there was anyone who was deserving Bill was the one.

It has been over a year. I still find it hard to accept. I know he didn't take great care of him self(the extreme living and all). I guess I ahd accepted that he was immortal. If there was anyone who was deserving Bill was the one.

Looking for William S. Burroughs I found a web-page dealing with a record from "SS say" called "fusion".
I would be very glad if anyone could help me to get the record.
Many thanks
Mitch

I have always been an admirer of WSB. I put a link to this site on my webpage. I think that I was supposed to get permission first. I'm not sure. I am only beginning the page.......never did one before.
Thanks,
Grovetta

my swollen glands feel the tremor of impostulence like a sickness
thru my broken body. in ruin I disembark my moment of fleeting clarity
like the divine sun washes pure whitelight thru the soft, pourous open
skin of a young boy. the fever inside causes me to tremble in the
prescence of greatness, my glistening skin bubbles to his feeble touch.

not good at comments
enjoyed the page

Allergic to humanity, obstinates in thought, regional network of signal
emitters, transpose mind data overlap with random extraneous spill-junk data
will form the new human database whereby not a rational thought can be
made without overlapping nonsense being wrapped thru signal until the
allergies rise to mutate thru non-human mesh corridor, where thought will
remain derelict for further dormanity to writhe towards the doorways this
electric medium henceforth created, ad infinity.

While basking in the magnificince of the meaningless unification with glory, I became cognicient of the omnipresent light: which is the self-same light that gives vision and sight to humanity, I became aware of certain aspects in the darker corridors of all subconscious thought. It is the pervading force that overcomes all human cognition which, in turn, makes us aware that we are all part of, what some existentialist, or phenomonologist, said "we are all parts of the sum and the sum is greater than the whole of it's parts". Yes, all is right but right is naught.

While basking in the magnificince of the meaningless unification with glory, I became cognicient of the omnipresent light: which is the self-same light that gives vision and sight to humanity, I became aware of certain aspects in the darker corridors of all subconscious thought. It is the pervading force that overcomes all human cognition which, in turn, makes us aware that we are all part of, what some existentialist, or phenomonologist, said "we are all parts of the sum and the sum is greater than the whole of it's parts". Yes, all is right but right is naught.

While basking in the magnificince of the meaningless unification with glory, I became cognicient of the omnipresent light: which is the self-same light that gives vision and sight to humanity, I became aware of certain aspects in the darker corridors of all subconscious thought. It is the pervading force that overcomes all human cognition which, in turn, makes us aware that we are all part of, what some existentialist, or phenomonologist, said "we are all parts of the sum and the sum is greater than the whole of it's parts". Yes, all is right but right is naught.

I AM one of the card playin' whiskey drinkin' evil old men that runs the United States of America!!!!

the day i bled thru brown shoe, revealing other split anatomy
revives me to creep up the stairwell towards the infinite...
cowardously, in tedium, left foot farewell in ambiguous fleeting
momentus, i tripped thru balconies rise up skywell blinking fluids
lost...the splintered toe step, the touchless method of inhilation
of tapless two step in the bloodied mind wrap in useless old brown shoe.

- chris rogue -

when nothing is true than every thing is permitted-ilove you
bill love bill

when my boyfriend and I were living together, the book Naked Lunch was a great use in the bathroom. It scared the shit out of us!

this is my second message. about when i met bill. well, it was amazing. i was 20 and he was 70. and some friends of mine were going to his birthday party. well, the reading itself was a party for him- but he was reading. and it made me laugh and cry and everything. so. did i mention the bowie tickets? well, i won them from the paper- i live sort of a charmed life- a bit of heaven and hell- must always have the balance, right?, or what's the point?!- anyhow, was amazing. and the dream too- i recognized his face in the first photo i saw of him- from a kerouac reader- and i was shocked- because this was the man in the dream. i don't know if anyone believed me. but i knew. so i traded bowie tickets to go and see burroughs. i think it was in 1982- or a bit later. no. 84'. so that was the first time i saw him in person- and i sat in the front row. it was very powerful. after that, i started doing my own readings. well, i thought, if he could, then i guess i could. and i did. for a long time. but it is very draining. it's hard to describe. it's like giving yourself to everyone at once- opening up your soul and letting everyone have a peek. but it also feels so amazing. like nothing else. better than sex. that's why bill read until he dropped. honestly. by the way; i still got to see bowie- and that was amazing too. so that was a good year. and i saw burroughs a few more times- and sent him birthday cards and letters for awhile. don't know if he ever got them. but i gave him a couple in person. he smiled. and that's all. he always made me feel incredible- for no reason at all. that's the beauty of him. of course there is more to it, but those things, you can't really explain. and his mind blows me away. i think bowie is getting there too. and you know, he will be a beautiful old man too. smile. so there. if anyone wants to reply to this or write to me about burroughs, feel free. would be nice. so. goodnight. love and madness, roses, and quiet nights. that's what we all need. and thanks for this sight. site. it is truly amazing. and the blue background is very soothing. anyone else notice that?! later. diane.

hi. i met william burroughs when i was 20. he was 70. he was beautiful. we were both aquarians. i still am. i was enthralled and in love. he said to me; nice to see you again.' this amazed me. still does. i'd never met him before. he was so brilliant. i first read about him in kerouac's books- of course. when i was about 12 or 13. possibly younger. then i began to buy his books... and his records. i had a dog, his name was bill, a working class friend of mine...' from one of his songs... 1962. he had that old raspy voice, from too much drugs and thinking. yes, thinking. it changes your voice. i think it does. he is my grandfather= old bull lee= now you are a ghost= like i always thought- and so did everyone else- and you always follow me. he does. i can still feel him, and see those cold blue-grey eyes. we have the same color eyes too. smile. he has made me so happy. he taught me not to be afraid of myself and my thoughts= and there was always love in his voice and the words- and everything he said or wrote. always love. people don't get that. he wanted to be accepted and loved. and he was/is. i saw so much in him. my first dream= at age 3- was of bill. maybe that's why he said hello, and nice to see you again. he smiled. they said he never did. but he smiled at me. it's not true; that he doesn't i mean, because, i saw him laugh too. everyone saw the cold old man. i saw something else. i was 3- as i said; and he came to me. he put his hand through the window, and he said hello. his hands were pale and transparent and warm. it was the first dream i ever had. i still remember it. the sky was pale and blue and beautiful around his head and his shoulders. i couldn't see his whole body. he took my hand through the window and held it. was so nice. and we stayed that way for awhile. and he made me feel open. like i could be anything. and believe me, i have been. smile. bill, i love you, and miss you so much. roses for your grave and your heart. it is still here. love diane. oct 10th 1998.

William Burrough's writings introduced me to ideas and visions the like of which I had never seen before. It made me question life and art and drugs all of which have helped make me who I am today. Let others learn from this legendary visionary so that they too may experience his wisdom, and perhaps also be changed by his words.
P.S Bill, Congrats on living for so long! You showed everyone!!

Re the above

I mean Tiresius of course, who paid a forfeit, invoked the anger of the Gods and, well, you know the rest.

William Burroughs

It recently struck me that he was the physical embodiment of the character/narrator of the Eliot poem 'The Wasteland' (- and I who have walked amongst the dead;

(- who have foresuffered all, enacted on this same divan or bed)

Its his voice I like best though.

Johnny D

I'm not going to give you a bunch of strung together words..
that was his job... I'm not going to tell you how much he
meant...you already know... I'm from the city he grew up in..I live
15 minutes away from where he died and yet I never met the man
but I know him well and I miss him fondly..and I will till my
days pass...bill...thank you and I love you

Myque

I don't really have much to say about WSB except that his
works such as "Cities of the Red Night" and "Naked Lunch"
dragged me through worlds which were, to me, completely
alien. I think I am now a more open-minded person having
made those journeys.

Wish he was still alive. Oh well.

William Seward Burroughs was the only person to get me up off my ass and write.

Burroughs is a genious in his work. I thind he did as many drugs as Hunter S. Thompson

thanks Bill.

For all those who grieve at the loss of William, just permitt him not dead. Live in your dreams of his fatasy where he always lives and tells his truths'. Cut up his works yourself, and create new worlds of Burroughs you have randomly created and live in that world. I am afraid of doing these obligations so encourage others to do so.
Freedom through Fantasy is the way for you personal future, I think.

I've already read all the Burroughs waorks I've find translated in Spanish but I would like to read some works I couldn't find in Spain but I think they are published in Soouth America or in the United States in Spanish as Interzone or Red night cities (I'm not sure about last title because is a direct translation from the Spanish version)
If somebody con give me a piece of information about this titles I will be very happy. Thanks a lot

Anybody who can write a sentence such as "She beat on the table with the expression
of a masturbating idiot.", knows how to express his thoughts in a powerful manner.

DH;;;;;:::::""""''''''""""!@#$%^&*()_+1234567890-=?/>.<,~`

G. STEIN SAID A ROSE IS A ROSE IS A ROSE. WELL THAT'S CRAP AND SO IS MOST OF WHAT W. BURROUGH'S WROTE. HIS CUT-UP WRITINGS SUCK AND SO DOES HIS SHITGUN ART. JUNKIE IS ONE GOOD BOOK THOUGH.

I don't have much to say. Newly introduced to the literary works of William S Burroughs I wish only to
express my feelings towards this mans mind. Absolutely onto it and absolutely out of it. Genius/madness.

Thanks

I am fairly new to Burroughs' work, and I am just embarking
on reading 'Naked Lunch'. I say 'embarking' because it is
a voyage, and a few pages each day is all I want to take as it
is an endlessly fascinating, and terrifying, work of art.

I want to make it last.

I have read some other interesting pieces including 'Dead
Fingers Don't Talk', and 'The Johnson Family'. The latter
is especially poignant as a general ethical attitude towards
other people.

I have also at this session, downloaded lists of recorded
works which I will hunt down relentlessly as soon as time
and cash permits.

My own 'experiments' with a flicker machine (alas not as
elegantly contructed as those of Burroughs, Gysin and
Sommerville, mine is basically my PC that runs some software
I wrote that simply makes the VDU screen flash off and on
as many time a second as you input), have also stimulated
my interest in the work of 'The Beats', as twentieth century
pioneers of both drug and non-drug induced altered states
of mind.

Which brings me to a request about the work of Sommerville.
I would be interested in getting hold of some more detailed
reports of the experiments with the DreamMachine, and also
is Ian Sommerville currently involved in any kind of
academic Information Technology research/teaching.
The reason I ask is because I am currently studying for a
degree in software engineering, and one of the recommended
text books is written by an Ian Sommerville. I am curious
to know if this is the same personage of 'Flicker' fame.

You have built an excellent webpage and archive.
Many Thanks for a stimulating browse,
ZoneTripper.

the short film of wsb and friends at xmas on the end of junky's xmas film
shows wsb in lawerence kansas not the bunker in nyc

It was Burroughs who first articulated--repetitively--that the concept of good vs. evil does not correspond to a religious denomination or being sexually chaste. It's about minding one's own business; a surprisingly simple task that few people have the capacity for. This would explain Burroughs' encyclopedic knowledge of weapons and minor arsenal of handguns for the purpose of protecting his coveted privacy. As a member of an intellectually superior minority in a world populated by "Shits", Burroughs saw it fit to preserve himself through this technology, unafraid to denounce authorities which others thought were legitimate.

Hey there Malcolm:

Currently exploring your site (looking for old friends,
reminiscing a bit). Tried to send an e-mail, but no-go
for some reason, so I'll post it here instead.

Noticed a hole in your Giorno Poetry Releases Listing.

Both Bill Sr. & Billy Jr. are on vinyl entitled
SUGAR, ALCOHOL & MEAT (another Dial-A-Poem Poets lp).

I have the broadside, as well as the New York Magazine
(Best Bets) blurb that was published about this one in
my files.

Why? I was on that album too. As was the recently departed,
Kathy Acker. Also Allen, Patti Smith, John Cage and a host
of other poets/writers/performers.

Cover photos are 3 separate images of Giorno, John Ashbery
& Bill all in dinner dress (& shot by Robert Mapplethorpe).
Tres suave!

I no longer have the albums (hey this was 18 yrs & a few
lifetimes ago), but I do remember that some of the recordings
were live (mine was from a New Years' Reading taped at
St. Marks Poetry Project) & I seem to recall the Burroughs'
trax were also live readings. But memory could be playing
trix.

I'll try to toggle my brain better, if ya need it.

Bill was also on a track of BIG EGO (cover has Meredith Monk,
Philip Glass, Giorno and a couple of kids on the Lower East
Side). I think that one was released earlier than SUGAR,
ALCOHOL & MEAT (which was 1980 or possibly `81).

Enjoying your site.

ThanX,
D

About five years ago. I Talked to James Grauerholz after i was done reading LITERARY OUTLAW. Burroughs was with him. i cant say how i got a hold of him. what i can say is that was the greatest momment as a writer ive had. thank you James and William.Gone but not unsung

what a loss; burroughs was one of the few men who had an
original vision and managed to still be showing it when
he died unlike others icould mention........he gave me a
vision and a name for the self and as someone might once
have said- 'he knew TIME'

Once I bought Naked Lunch and read it. Then I read it again. And so I did several times more. Still I did not understand some of the pages. But the images of the book began to haunt me sometimes. And BINGO!!! I came to it. I did not have to understand the words (unfortunately I read only the Russian translation of the book)! I understood the literature as it is!
Thank you

AS ABOVE SO BELOW......

THE MAN

I was wandering if you send us some info about how to make a writing more interesting

It aint no sin to shake off you skin and dance around in your bones. When the comfort level gets too hot and you can't find an ice cream cone.........words to live by, you have helped me find peace.....

As a young writer (just 29) living in Lawrence after my great escape from Sarah Lawrence College, I had the fortune to meet and chat with 'the great frail man'. He asked simple questions with alarming inpact...He turned me on to other writers and gave me hope in the future of writing, a future sadly without him. Rest in peace Mr. Burroughs and may you be sitting in your chair polishing a revolver and laughing at we mortals scurring around for our crumbs...

All my best,
Gone but not forgotten,
And hopefully sipping a drink,
Paul R. Reilly

Billy will always live on! Well, as long as there are talking assholes! haha Read on brothers and sisters!!!

Mr.Burroughs,
You make me feel not so alone,
As I pick up that utencil....

To the greatest writer of our time...

Au grand passager d'Interzone, destructeur de langage-code, imagicien des fantasmes-vert-nuit.

Au grand parolier des quantas, celui qui a fait parler l'homme-machine, brutale ingérence dans un présent définitivement frelaté.

Gloire à toi, oh psychédélik Rimbaud.



Yours for ever, die long and prosper.


Stephane

the junk miser laid on his balcony to sweat it off, burlap thick eyelids
powerful mutagenic alkaline agent on the nod. my remedy rising as undigested
verse...my misery induced fugue revelant to only the beaded sweat on the 3am
balcony miserable kentucky ham son.

Just read Naked Lunch - more or less stumbled across it in a second hand book-shop. Though I do not profess to have understood half of it, I am still deeply impressed by the book. I believe it is one of the most energetic, forceful novels ever written. The words positively throb with an animal-like viciousness.
When I try to imagine the man who wrote them I wonder if I it is more appropriate to pity or to admire him - though he probably could not give an effing damn in either case...

Mugwump island canary yellow streaks on the piss yellow wall, my hotel
is infested with dark serum worm crawling neckties to swallow in future
correspondence with damp crucified boys, naked and turkish yellow skinned...
My future landlord in St.Louis was incinerated along with several photographs
of mugwump transluscense urine, a weak specimen of yellow tabasco light coloured
piss that could drink you into a mild concussion...so I had dreamt.

dear mr burroughs where ever you are..
has got to be better then this...but..
no matter how bad things get here we..
will always have your words and the...
knowledge you have given us all.......
including me...thank you,you great man
i love you.............xoe............

to lose is to win

Dear Mrs. Solberg,
i humbly thank you for the honor

from the dead arise alive
Time breaks a rock
with water and air.

WSB

Naked Glee

Gladness reigns at the death of Bill.
His work was psychopathological filth!
He murdered his wife and went scot free.
He lost his soul to drugs and sex.
He was a pedophile, not less.
Look in the sewer of human degradation
And find Bill.
He lost his humanity; no he threw it all away
With both hands.
He deserves to burn in Hell for all eternity.

Amen! :D

Mrs. Solberg
- Monday, August 11, 1997 at 02:28:40 (EDT)

hello

I was first introduced to William S. Burroughs when I was 16. A group of us used to sit around and read parts of Naked Lunch to each other. Now, years later, we only have our own memories and experiences. I miss you very much! You tought so much to so many people about being an individual.
I'll never forget!
l

I just feel a need to say thanx to a person who ment so much to me ...
A writing genius with ears like a god.
No words could say what you ment to me and so many others.
Stay alive... Bill,
and thank you!

a ritual uxoricium is planned in the home with the wife and I ...

For the record, in Bloodhounds of Broadway, Burroughs plays the butler in all of the scenes involving one particular society party that is revisited throughout the film. He doesn't speak in the film, but is the subject of many spooky lingering shots as he watches the major characters stumbling toward their fates.

(thanks Bill)

I hope whoever is running this will replace yesterday's hurried comments with this slightly more thought out note. William Burroughs could be seen as forming a kind of tandem with Henry Miller in that both were writers who saw language as their first great problem. Miller broke through certain barriers by writing in a way that was half-surreal, half-day-to-day to break the politeness lines laid down by previous generations of genteel English novelists. After Miller, you didn't always have to write about garden parties in hushed tones. Right to the end, Miller was always trying to get away from the 'literary' restrictions of literature: 'whatever is not from the street is flase derived, that is to say, literature'.

With Burroughs, it wasn't the restrictions society had imposed on the English language that bothered him, but the nature of language itself: goddamm pre-programmed code flashing around in our brains and nobody realising it. So he cut the code up, broke up the syntax, to see what would happen: 'Let's see'.

Together the two of them made the writer's oaklined drawing room a much roomier place than it had been before, they let in the air, and the mice, and christ knows what else. There's nothing wrong with writing about flat characters and round characters and three act plots and all the rest of it - plenty of writers still do - but thanks most of all to Miller and Burroughs all writers who do so are standing on a sixpence as the gym teachers used to say in a vast breezy living-room opened up for them should they want to use that available space.

Not only did Miller and Burroughs let in all this fresh air and go on breathing it for the rest of their lives, they also kept themselves angry which meant they kept their humour in there as well, an ingredient which acts like a literary preservative and will make sure people'll be reading both of them for years and years.

Miller never understood Burroughs and Burroughs was never interested much by Miller, though he certainly knew his books. The two of them, nonetheless, knocked those oaklined panels through and nowadays anybody who still sits at his desk resolutely ignoring the draughts blowing hither and thither, cannot help but look a little silly.

William Burroughs? The English equivalent of the Czech Hrabal and the Austrian Bernhard, one of the best if not the best of all those writers in the second half of the 20th century who didn't worry about being part of 'literature' because they found there were more important problems to be dealt with first. And boy, did Burroughs deal with them. We should shake his talking dead fingers just for that.

Matthew Tree

I lived in Lawrence for about almost 5 years and during that time had the opportunity to meet William several times and even work with him when he did voice-over work for a CD-ROM based on Edgar Allen Poe stories called "The Dark Eye."

On my way home from work today I heard a tribute on NPR and thought of him. It made me think of when I saw him during the Nova Convention Revisited in Lawrence on November 26, 1996. It was a very touching tribute to William, as I am sure you would agree if you were there.

August 2, 1997 was a sad day to be in Lawrence. Many people miss him all over the world. He touched me in more ways than I could possibly put into words. I am thankful to have had the opportunity to meet him.

Well, I always say the same stuff about William S. Burroughs, namely, that what Henry Miller did for the English language in the first half of the 20th century, Burroughs did for a second. Miller put all the gentle and genteel fiction that was floating around at the time in its place, meaning not that it was bad necessarily but simply that it had a *place*, it was not the be all and end all, and Miller did this on a level that influenced a whole load of people, from the GIs who bought him in Paris to Mailer etc. So Burroughs just finioshed off the job in the second half of this or that same century, he looked even harder at the nature of language and then decided to see what would happen if you pulled it to pieces - 'Let's see'.

Yes, we can all write novels with round characters and flat characters and three act structures and that's fine, and plenty of people are still doing it, but thanks to Burroughs or the Miller/Burroughs tandem they are sitting in a much larger drawing room as they do so, as they weave their wee plots and fret over their wee characters.

So, in a nutshell, Burroughs did what so many great writers have done, that is, he made the place spacier and freer for the rest of us, he let some air in, not to mention the mice. A great, great writer, with the hallmark or rather the twin hallmarks of all great writers: he sometimes wrote badly and he made sure his books all had humour, real humour, the black kind.

Matthew Tree

I lucked upon this page Aug 2 1998 thru the JG Ballard "What I Believe" hypertext and realised it's been one year since WSB's death. He has changed my life in a number of ways, artisticly and spiritualy (but not my spelling skills) and will continue to do so.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted."

?

# tangiers
(7/9/98)


Many days hungry laid out on table
I close my eyes, And I see, You--standing there,
my only friend, my only head
I cry, Tears--of sorrow, I die.
this is the noise that keeps me awake
fear is not the end of this


Soft now- the lips that dragged me down
showed me everybody, naked and disfigured
hear me cry, hear me moan
and wash away the rain,

funk soul brother
my whole existence is flawed
Everyone avoids me like a psyched lone ranger
ain't nothing here that I care To take a long
you get me closer to god

I close my eyes, And I see, You--standing there,
I cry, Tears--of sorrow, I die.
Uh-huh,
Yeah.


all the little boys with crimson lips
take me home, take me home, and wash away the rain
fear is not the end of this
my only friend, my only head

...

Burroughs is one of the three "greats" of the last fifty years in my opinion - Beckett, Burroughs and Ballard.
At the time of his death I had written to him to try and get his signature - I failed, sadly.

Much thanks to Malcolm Humes for this Memorial
which gathered Bill Burroughs'readers during this incredible
year. Thanks to all of you who write here.
May the Third Mind which grew up allow us to keep on
his work and Brion Gysin's one with as much fun and
delights we have had to do it untill now.
Happy birthday to Interzone
Let's meet today : see http://www.interpc.fr/mapage/westernlands/menu

For Interzone
Izzy

One year ago exactly my little son Ian (named after Ian C. from Joy
Division...) was born into this world...and William S. Burroughs was
leaving this world. It is my belief that upon entering and leaving
this world, one must travel thru a portal...and for a brief few moments,
people leaving this world get to watch the new ones entering, and that
for a split second they can connect thoughts to one another and pass on
a bit of their influence onto the newborn.
It would incredible if one day my son would wake me up and in the moment
of clarity he would say to me: "Did I ever tell you the one about the man
who taught his asshole to talk?"

BTW, for those who are checking this out, I highly recommend the
4 CD boxset of WSB from Giorno Poetry Systems...there are some of
his first ever live performances and readings, some of which show
a very human side (to err) of WSB where he had not yet established
his patented style and grace...so it reminded me a lot of the open
mic poetry environments where anything can happen and usually does.
Definitely worth the investment...plus, the book that comes with it
is chock full of memories! It is a beautiful tribute to the infamous
writer from interzone.

CHRIS ROGUE
reptile house labs,
Chicago

So it's a year now, and still no news from The Western Lands.
Buzz Osborne from the Melvins told me of Bill's passing, in a cafe while we were on tour,
and I am still in the same state of disbelief that it would be the last we'd hear from WSB.
The experiment continues.

Crumpled, despondent, I...

dustheap kansas, polygon window to the xenophobes centre of earth.
sullen traveler, shuffled thru bleakest of blackened estuaries, dead at 83.

The day is done
For an old fag....

The needles are rusting
but always find a newbie fresh arm....

VIVA LA BURROUGHS!

i search through all these bits of notes and letters and pictures from those around the world, who can't help but miss an old man who lived a life like none other... i am but one voice in the night, sighing.....
when i heard of bill's death, all i could think was.. well, they're all together again, the boys... having a grand ol tea party in heaven, stirring up the old days and laughing. we should all be so lucky to become angels such as these...
i will forever remember his words about love.. "the most natural painkiller that there is", and think of his eyes, glowing with a knowledge and power no one could duplicate. and i will look up when it rains and thank the boys, the beatific saints, for spilling a sip on me...

About a year ago he walked quietly into the western land, cries of anguish rose saying how could that old man be gone.
he had so much to give us. He gives it to us when ever he needs, for one thing his dense funny crap just gets funnier, more real and more relevant.
and as time goes by we see a little more of it. I laugh when his deriders need to cry about his fame and money . He was a natural man protected from proverty by his friend james g and
actually he was lucky that some of the work he needed to write, he was allowed to write, you don't need the hidden work to find his star. He was no louis may alcot, he wasn't in it for the money, he was in it for the bone
I close my eyes and see him, standing on his red porch nodding and see us off, bending down, stroking a cat, I remember him rolling with odd grace in my living room on 13th. singing in the car old jimmy rodgers tune, walking on the river gleaming glad delighted
patricia

Great page. Does anyone have info on a german claymation
short. Based on a Burroughs poem and also narrated by him?
I believe it's called "Ah Pook" and was on the Spike and
Mike Sick and Twisted Animation Festival Circut.

Calling all active agents,
nearly a year from the day William Lee Deserted this virus
riden planet.
Come kick those naked mugwumps from your orgone box and come to interzone.
It's quite a resort.

Remember the lavatory has been locked for three hours.

STORIES OF MISERY,CAN YOU READ NOW ? I AM NO-ONE HERE . GOD OF NOTHING,HERE I ROTT INSIDE MYSELF.STUCK LIKE WHITE LIGHTNING CRACKING MY BRAIN DEAD TO YOU.

...young writer...just read Naked Lunch...blown away...must know more...will know more...so glad I've got so much time.

I found your site whilst researching WSB for a season of Burroughs'-related films
to be held in commemmoration of the first anniversary of his death.
Your site has been extremely helpful in my research - thanks!
If any one is interested in the WSB commemorative season, they should contact
The Lux Cinema in Hoxton Square, London, for a programme.

I realise that this request is not directly linked to this specific website, however, i am requesting
help with decoding all of the 'fictional' characters in 'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac, of which
WSB is one (I believe that WSB is 'Old Bull' and Joan Vollmer Adams is 'Jane'). If anyone can
help me with this, or email me with some links that they think may be helpful, please do. Thanks

just curious about what i'd find here

My introduction to WSB was when I heard him on public radio. He was reciting
a poem about the end of the world, with the music of the band Materia in the foreground.
I was mesmerized. It blew my mind. He spoke of atomic war, and how
if the end of the world came as the result of a nucular holocaust it would not only kill our
bodies, but would also kill our souls. The only way the soul can die is from nucular holocaust,
he said, in his unique poetic style. If the world ended by any other means we would die,
and our
souls would live on to perhaps inhabit another realm, but atomic death, he said, would
be "the final
death"...... Hmmmmm.

energy sucker, dilapidated old feline with tattered claws.
mugwumps thrive still in other places in my mind.

I missed talking to you when you asked me the time ... I really had all
the time for you but then you were gone....I miss your annual visit to
Edgar A. Poe's bones with the whisky and the rose....I pray you help
break my writer's block...help me break rock.....

As a 16 year old, many people may not beleive I could harbor a true affinity for Burroughs, because of my lack of wordly experience. I think misconceptions like these are exactly the type of thing Burroughs would've been against. Burroughs was about more than terrible experiences in this life and twisted psychological fallability...a human tragedy that we all play a role in. Burroughs (I feel) above all was a spiritualist. His writing transcended physicality and kicks, it was a piece of his soul, his exepreinces, his visions and dreams physical manifested on paper. He manipulated words like an addict manipulates anyone willing to be his enabler. He used them to express that this life, this terror, this sick twisted fantasy/reality we all live in isn't all there is. There is more...H.P Lovecraft held the belief that man did not know the whole truth about all the knowledge, power and terror in the universe...and that if man did, he would go mad. Burroughs stared this omnipresent void, that uncertainty, the Absolute, and painted it with words...and he lived to tell of it. He was our pioneer, our brave tragic voyager who showed us more than we ever thought we could gather about life, death, God, and ourselves...all of us have a little bit of William Burroughs in us...his satire, his honesty, his brutality, his tragically beautiful inequity..but still, he will be missed.

Burroughs ghost never stop writing now totally out of control.
He didn't choose peace but in a way he must find it while
someone'll be accepting his life-job. Secret agent from
anywhere through everywhere.
Total Death is a lie and the liers are the priests of this
world.Life will be fighting and even more.
Like you Old Bill through broken galaxies always against
Nova and whatever gets you through the dream.
Purple-assed baboons what we kill
Rational though forever destroyed secrets still travelling.
Miss your humor.
Pacôme.

Long after I thought I understood "Wouldn't you?" I realized that there was another dimension. I was wrong. There is probably another dimension after that. Wouldn't you?

Long after I thought I understood "Wouldn't you?" I realized that there was another dimension. I was wrong. There is probably another dimension after that. Wouldn't you?

A sad Loss for all please come back Bill
never had to think about what it would be like if u went

If you repulse, it is only because you feel it deep within your
muscular scrotum...

My grandfather knew William Burroughs so, when choosing a
research project, I decided to study William Burroughs and
Naked Lunch. I was thrilled to discover what an amazing
storyteller and thinker this man was. It truly saddens me
to know that the world will no longer benefit from his
writing. I enjoyed especially his sense of humour. If
anyone is reading this who has not read Naked Lunch, READ
IT NOW!!! Don't borrow it from a friend or from the library,
BUY YOUR OWN! It is a gift, and we are so lucky to have a
novel like this one at our fingertips. Thank you to the
creators of this page for keeping William S. Burroughs alive
for future generations to appreciate. HIS WORKS NEED TO BE
READ AND REREAD as so many of his comments on society are
present more than ever today(read his discussion of
Interzone's political parties on approx. page 140-I can't
remember exactly). His insights into human rotteness cannot
be ignored. Hell, knowing is half the battle right? Maybe
with intense self-scrutiny, the population will one day be
relieved from it's repressed, hypocritical, etc...(read the
book) ways. I hope so. Well, all hail Burroughs***

My grandfather knew William Burroughs so, when choosing a
research project, I decided to study William Burroughs and
Naked Lunch. I was thrilled to discover what an amazing
storyteller and thinker this man was. It truly saddens me
to know that the world will no longer benefit from his
writing. I enjoyed especially his sense of humour. If
anyone is reading this who has not read Naked Lunch, READ
IT NOW!!! Don't borrow it from a frieng or from the library,
BUY YOUR OWN! It is a gift, and we are so lucky to have a
novel like this one at our fingertips. Thank you to the
creators of this page for keeping William S. Burroughs alive
for future generations to appreciate. HIS WORKS NEED TO BE
READ AND REREAD as so many of his comments on society are
present more than ever today(read his discussion of
Interzone's political parties on approx. page 140-I can't
remember exactly). His insights into human rotteness cannot
be ignored. Hell, knowing is half the battle right? Maybe
with intense self-scrutiny, the population will one day be
relieved from it's repressed, hypocritical, etc...(read the
book) ways. I hope so. Well, all hail Burroughs***

Someone should seek out the many trash porn novels burroughs ghostwrote for money long ago , I own one likel;y candidate and they might be some of his deepest works of all
Vincit Omnia Veritas, Vae Victis

telepathic bullet lodges into first glance, barbed wire spindles around
the wrists of no ordinary man. deem to guess his mistake being made at
the table when her temple exploded, fit right into that convenient pocket
between your thumb and forefinger. incindenary minds work in sporatic or
at best half noticed places, notice how they can spontaneously amputate
their fingers? --chris rogue--

they wanted a war hero, but got a prom queen instead, aborted fetuses in a bucket being
consumed by termites. we miss you bill.

He was in, but not from here.
Makes me believe.

I grew up in Kansas City, Missouri and we had the best dirt clods. The dirt would dry in layers. And with the hands you can peel it apart piece by piece. I wonder if they have some good dirt in Heaven. Bill?

I like the spicy mustard. But not having to carry the bag lunch onto the plane. Being served poor food somehow makes it a lot better. Being made to carry it myself just makes me wish I had packed a Snickers.

Deep in the clogged mindway a rigor of awful men or robot men, like
dilligent little army men, stop to greet the fatty antibody. Incestuous precursor
to marketcrasher depression era monolithic fire eyed gap toothed sawblade
rotor mouthed death breathin' mind ripper, the fatty is goggled up and in
sight of the meandering writers panhandle where old man Burroughs has done
it again...like a glass chunk broken beer bottle lodged in the throat of
a drunken man on his way to a final resting place...somewhere nearby the
mindway is undulating, awaiting most his arrival. Burroughs, armed to the
teeth, is on his way to the other side- "reckon I outta take out fatty one
last time for old times sake, leavem a souvenir" ...old bill is dead and there
is no place left to go. --chris rogue

ohmigod grampa bill is gone ! He was a Shakespeare, man, fiery prophet of the electric sexual era.

Hi William, wherever you may be, reaching the extreme, you where
honestly looking to find the door to other dimensions. Maybe
you did knock too hard, but you did knock. And that's what counts.
Next life you probably find the right entry and all your efforts will
be rewarded. You will be remembered for be so human. Love, Hans

Une personne qui restera parmis les esprits libres, un pessimiste optimiste révolutionnaire en marge d'un systême dont il faisait parti

Une personne restera parmis les esprits libres, un pessimiste optimiste révolutionnaire en marge d'un systeme dont il faisait partie

massimo rispetto per lo zio bill

planning on a local / regional beat poet retrospective with classics such as WSB/kerouac/corso/ginsber, et al, interleaved along with local efforts all within pseudo re-creation of popularized nostalgic interpretation of the coffeehouse as it existed from time to time. please let me know what to do to obtain rights to read some of WSB's works. Thanks for providing this sight.

First off, I would like to recommend an under-read book by the man. "The Job", is a collection of
statements from interview with WSB. Secondly, a quote that I think represents how the man thought.
from: "The Place of Dead Roads", "...the arrow and the bow, the arm and the eye."

Decades from now, university literature classes will illustrate (albeit as dry as ever) what all of us already know-William Burroughs was the nexus of Post-WWII American literature. His loving, gentlemanly influence extended from the Beats to the science fiction subgenre known today as 'cyberpunk'. I am positive he will be "rediscovered" an influence generations to come.

Personally, I "discovered" Naked Lunch in high school over twenty years ago. Later, Viking/Penguin re-released " Junky" and "Queer". At that time, Hunter Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was getting another lease on life, thanks to the film "Where the Buffalo Roam". Although both authors reported on those dark corridors of the human mind, "Sailor Bill" did so with such power and grace.

I learned of his death through the San Francisco Examiner. In the obituary, I read that someone places spent .45 caliber shells in a pan-scale located in the storefront window of City Lights in San Francisco. I thought that was the perfect "thank you".

well im in mexico , ixtapa right now and decided to see
whether or not there was anything on the web about the
movie naked lunch. today i am sorry to find out that
the legend is no longer with but i wanted to add that i
have proudly been a part of his legendary life.

I was an actor in the movie NAKED LUNCH
directed by DAVID CRONENBERG who cast me
as an interzone boy which ironically happens to be a
fictiosous character in an arabesque new york
dreamzone. which actually accured in his life in the
50's in tangiers morrocco. which happens to be the place of my parents origin.

THANK YOU FOR THE HONOR MR.BURROUGHS

P.S. DAVID CRONENBERG IT WAS THE EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE THANK YOU

SINCERELY,
LAURENT HAZOUT IXTAPA,MEXICO MAY 21 1998

thanks, wsb

i came back to this memorial site today to look for my old comments which i posted here not long after uncle bill's death. in looking for them (and not finding them) i have read a couple dozen messages and it has brought a tear to my eye, and also made me think (what book did that quote come from?) and laugh (someone quoted "words of advice for young people")...
i guess i've been drawn back here to say something substantial. well, i think of burroughs as a spiritual companion. i have no real beliefs - i consider myself an atheist - but uncle bill showed me what there was beyond the physical world. the more that is written in the spirit of experimentation with the written word, the more we expand the world known as imagination, and we can then grow further as beings.
this is what burroughs has taught me, if nothing else. he has been the greatest educator in my education... but like him, i will not complete my education until i join him in the western lands.

thankyou, bill. thankyou for challenging my mind in a world where books like "trainspotting" are hailed as the best book ever written by man or woman. now i'm going to leave you alone. you have earnt your retirement, inspector lee...