What is the point in writing anything unless it's a comment, a broadcast of the current, disguised or undisguised in theme? So I thought as I sat at my desk with nothing to do in the waning hours of the afternoon. I thought about the story I was writing, which is themed on optics, and it seemed to me to be so divorced from anything real or now. Reading about the revolutions that wracked South and Central America I remembered stories by Jorge Luis Borges that entranced me with their intricate paranoid conspiracies, and I realized it was all based on reality for him. Burroughs took it to the next level for fantasy by inducing realities that could be written with authenticity. That's why Naked Lunch is possibly the best book ever written. It's a true fantasy.
IN the words of Gwen Stefani:
What you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting for?
Take a chance cause you might grow
.....
look at your watch now
you're still a super hot female
which seems applicable to me, except for the last part. This is the problem with a super hot male listening to female singers - the inspiration is usually just slightly off. I've just listened to her song nine times in a row now. It's good.
The Japanese I learned today: migi ni magaru = turn right.
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