ell, it doesnt matter, Dirk, Scott, and William, three guys these are
guys. Ive got a bottle of malt liquor in a brown paper bag and a
pocketful of alfalfa sprouts and I say to Scott, buddy, what can we cook
up with this? He says, cookbooks, cookbooks. Hes not talking real
straight at this point, has been thinking hes the Oracle at Delphi or
else the Oracle at Oracle, I couldnt tell which, because hed say one
word and repeat it as if it meant more repeated. Cookbooks, cookbooks,
he says, and we go to cookbooks and I start looking in James Beard and
Julia Child for alfalfa sprouts and Scott takes the same books and
checks the index for beer. Alfalfa, Scott says, alfalfa, like its
supposed to mean something. Then I get this badass idea because Im
feeling around in my back pocket and theres a Hershey bar there.
Chocolate, I say to Scott, chocolate. Think of a cauldron of chocolate and
youre drinking beer in it and youre eating alfalfa sprouts. He vomits
all over Julia Child.
This happened at Borders. We got all turned around earlier, because I told the taxi driver or whoever it was whose car we were inI think it was a German tourist, on reflectionwe needed City Lights and he said, uh?, and I said, bookstore, and he doesnt get it, so were at Borders. But we need to be at City Lights, the next S. Burroughs was reading and I was giving the introduction, so I pick Scott up and carry him out of the store. People were looking but fuck them. Adios, Scott says, adios. Clap, Scott says, clap.
I carry him to City Lights. Its a long ways and he vomits in my back pocket on the way, but so what, Im drunk. We get to City Lights and the next S. Burroughs, thats William, is standing up in front of a huge crowd of people. Hes just standing there. William, I whisper, after dropping Scott in the poetry room, what are you doing? He looks at me. Its this mind-reading trick he learned in Dirks cult, I think. Dirks telepathic, I think. Who knows? Whatever, I realize Williams saying to me, I cant talk until Ive been introduced. Now, if you know William, you know hes a man of few words even when he does talk. I ask somebody in the audience, how long has this been going on? And this person in the audience vomits. Now, this confused me. Because Scott just vomited. But then it occurs to me Dirks into peyote. He loves peyote. And it occurs to me further that William is on peyote, too. And it occurs to me further that me, Im on it too, and I might vomit soon. But first I should introduce William as the next S. Burroughs, because thats whoand I see this clearly at the time, as if I am the Oraclehe is. So I go up in front of everybody, work my jaw a bit but dont say anything, and then sayI dont say anything. I think it. And now, I think, William, the next S. Burroughs, is going to read from his novelette, his collection of poetry. Hes going to read from his experimental novel and his conventional one. Hes going to read from his thesis and hes going to read from his studentspapers.
At this point Scott meanders in. Hes not saying anything, but hes thinking something. Ode, he thinks, ode. He sits in the single empty chair in the back next to the books on astrology and stops thinking, empties his mind, becomes Zen. Then Dirk comes in with about 100 disciples, I dont know how many there were, but theyre all wearing this shirt thats got a picture of a bald Dirk on the front of it and on the back the words, Olean, so I think immediately that Procter & Gamble is sponsoring this cult, and sure enough, under Olean it reads: P&G: For the best in anal leakage. Crowd, I think, here is the allegedly arisen one. Everyone nods their head.
Inexplicably, the lights go out. City Lights is dark like the Dead Sea after the apocalypse.
I pause, and then continue thinking: Williams going to read from his term papers, I think, hes going to read from his class notes, hes going to read from cereal boxes and from grocery store coupons. Hes going to read fortune cookie fortunes, underwear size labels, text from highway billboards, the Declaration of Independence, the script to Goodfellas, the warning label on the back of a container of antifreeze, and James Beard cookbooks. Hes going to read transcripts of conversations with Curtis White, Scott Rettberg, myself, and Dirk; hes going to read auras; hes going to read tea leaves and street addresses and calling card access codes and the Wall Street Journal Guide to Understanding Money and Investing and Funk & Wagnalls Encyclopedia and the sports page of a Brazilian newspaper and God in a clump of Dirks hair. And you know what, I think. And hes also going to read my mind. Everybody applauds him, as S. Burroughs begins to read.
at Brown University
at Mikes House
630K RealAudio Clip