Four novels as a blueprint for a different kind of life.
1. Crash - JG Ballard
I could live in the ecstasy of twisted flesh and twisted metal, the man and his car the first homo-robo interspecies love affair. The junkyard is an orgy, liminal auto-eroticism dancing between all the cars on the freeway, all fueled by the aphrodisiac of gasoline.
2. If On Winter's Night a Traveller - Italo Calvino
The ultimate book lover's wet dream - meet the woman of your dreams in a bookstore, bond, and go on a trans-national intellectual adventure hunting up the hottest in biblio-conspiracy. Like living in a Borges short story, your life crib notes in between the lines of Tlon, Uqbar, Orbius Tertius.
3. In Watermelon Sugar - Richard Brautigan
Writing one of the few books ever written, alone in your cabin, contemplating existence beside giant statues of vegetables, avoiding the talking tigers that killed your parents, your house built of the spun sugar from a rainbow of different watermelons. You go to the big house for pancakes, life is quiet, simple, magic, yet unadorned.
4. the Wild Boys - William S. Burroughs
You travel in packs, like lost boys, tribes of splatterpunk boyscouts, waging ontological terrorism against those old enemies of the soul. Your hideouts are opium dens, penny arcades, sex and madness. Your weapons are all viral - your guerrilla warfare subsisting on the mutability of your approach - the flexibility of language, thinking in images, blitzkrieg attacks of terrible beauty and violence. The buildings burn and the sky dances with colored smoke, every day is Bloomsday, you pinprick the illusion of order and it deflates like an old party balloon. You lie entwined in a bed of chaos and fuck like grinning red wolves.
Four paths diverged in a yellow wood,
and I took them all,
and that has made all the difference.
1. Crash - JG Ballard
I could live in the ecstasy of twisted flesh and twisted metal, the man and his car the first homo-robo interspecies love affair. The junkyard is an orgy, liminal auto-eroticism dancing between all the cars on the freeway, all fueled by the aphrodisiac of gasoline.
2. If On Winter's Night a Traveller - Italo Calvino
The ultimate book lover's wet dream - meet the woman of your dreams in a bookstore, bond, and go on a trans-national intellectual adventure hunting up the hottest in biblio-conspiracy. Like living in a Borges short story, your life crib notes in between the lines of Tlon, Uqbar, Orbius Tertius.
3. In Watermelon Sugar - Richard Brautigan
Writing one of the few books ever written, alone in your cabin, contemplating existence beside giant statues of vegetables, avoiding the talking tigers that killed your parents, your house built of the spun sugar from a rainbow of different watermelons. You go to the big house for pancakes, life is quiet, simple, magic, yet unadorned.
4. the Wild Boys - William S. Burroughs
You travel in packs, like lost boys, tribes of splatterpunk boyscouts, waging ontological terrorism against those old enemies of the soul. Your hideouts are opium dens, penny arcades, sex and madness. Your weapons are all viral - your guerrilla warfare subsisting on the mutability of your approach - the flexibility of language, thinking in images, blitzkrieg attacks of terrible beauty and violence. The buildings burn and the sky dances with colored smoke, every day is Bloomsday, you pinprick the illusion of order and it deflates like an old party balloon. You lie entwined in a bed of chaos and fuck like grinning red wolves.
Four paths diverged in a yellow wood,
and I took them all,
and that has made all the difference.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
freakpirate:
That's what I keep hearing. He was down yesterday with my family so we went for supper. Sitting next to him is just bizarre now...
uns0uled:
Ca roule mon gros, ca roule !!!