Black Giant Aquatic Brazilian Centipede, Reivew on Naked Lunch

-Have I ever told you about a guy who lets his ass talk?
-bubbly, strong, stinky smell, A sound you can smell -but
ass soon bites through pants and yells in the street for equal rights
-ass finally says to him, yes you should shut up , not me, because I don't need you at all
- I can eat, talk, and pull
- and in the end his head is engulfed in a tadpole-like gaseous gel, truncated as if nothing but eyes Feels, because the ass can't watch
- the brain is cut off the nerve, but it also eventually dies, Because the eye is going to run out.

This should be the first movie I've seen recently that I don't know what to say after watching it , said that he liked it and didn't like it, and that he had abandoned it and felt that it needed to be explored. These are my favorite lines in the play. Probably because I want to learn Neuroscience in the future, I always empathize with the metaphor of the brain, especially when Bill mentioned that the brain will die.
Kafka has not read it, and the Beat Generation has not read it much, but I believe that we must be better than the sense of alienation at that time.
What writers write, called reports, even if they contain a poetic High; save the typewriter, and you save yourself; drugs and alcohol and tobacco follow. And I prefer the last alien head. If he likes to write something, he will drip a little semen greasy to call it [inspiration], it is better to numb himself, as the little alien head said, [ Without me, you lose touch with reality].
Generally speaking, after reading a book, you can always understand a little bit about the character of the protagonist. But I can't grasp Bill at all, he's just like a mysterious man. Or another possibility, Cronenberg didn't want to make him character. His typical American dress in the 1950s, his slow tone and indifference to everything seemed to be out of his own existence. As the person who said the butt talk said, the lack of self-existence has reached the critical edge - then, indeed, for such a person who has long been out of existence, the only connection with reality can only be obtained from hallucinations.
Although it's not appropriate for someone like me who hasn't seen "Metamorphosis" and "The Trial", the existentialism associated with it is interesting. I believe that Naked Lunch wants to express through various metaphors, words, and desire to express that the world has no purpose, and people are born without constraints, so the existence of life is absurd. The so-called morality, religion, and ethics cannot bring us real constraints, and society, or more carefully, the opinions of others, can most powerfully attack our hearts wrapped in flesh.
For example, I forgot who said that it was possible to turn heterosexuals into homosexuals through typewriters—as if the other way around. Given that the entire Interzone in the movie is all sort of Bill's hallucinations, it's possible that Bill's conversations were concocted to lighten the burden of his homosexuality; Others are hell, as Sartre said.
"Only a complete conviction of the tragic, meaningless existence of all earthly existence is possible to see a vision that rises from the ruins leading to the salvation of the kingdom."

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Naked Lunch quotes

Yves Cloquet: I've seen you around, but I had no idea you were queer.

Bill Lee: Queer?

Yves Cloquet: [leers] I saw you arrive with those three Interzone boys. What an entrance. You all looked very... familiar with each other.

Bill Lee: [gulps] Queer. A curse. Been in our family for generations. The Lees have always been perverts. I shall never forget the unspeakable horror that froze the lymph in my glands when the baneful word seared my reeling brain - I was a homosexual. I thought of the painted simpering female impersonators I'd seen in a Baltimore nightclub. Could it be possible I was one of those subhuman things? I walked the streets in a daze like a man with a light concussion. I would've destroyed myself. And a wise old queen - Bobo, we called her - taught me that I had a duty to live and bear my burden proudly for all to see. Poor Bobo came to a sticky end - he was riding in the Duke Devanche's Hispano Suissa when his falling hemorrhoids blew out of the car and wrapped around the rear wheel. He was completely gutted leaving an empty shell sitting there on the giraffe skin upholstry. Even the eyes and the brain went with a horrible "shlupping" sound. The Duke says he would carry that ghastly "shlup" with him to his mausoleum.
Bill Lee: Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was unlike anything I had ever heard. This asshole talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell. This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called The Better Ole that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, "Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?" "Nah I had to go relieve myself." After a while the asshole started talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his asshole would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and start eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him, "It is you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat AND shit." After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpoles tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous - except for the EYES you dig. Thats one thing the asshole COULDN'T do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldnt give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes WENT OUT, and there was no more feeling in them than a crabs eyes on the end of a stalk.

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