Killing insects

Bernard 2022-03-25 09:01:10

Naked Lunch begins with the novelist's creative desires, their dark desires and their abyss. They thought it was the tool of their minds - the typewriter: it was actually their controller, and not even the language, the language - was just talking.

The film expresses an idea that regardless of the human mind, eyes, and all tools created outside of human beings, especially the tools that are considered to assist human intelligence, spread and even promote civilization, they are only the extension of the "ass". And "ass", gay ass, has no aesthetics, no meaning, even it, with its tools, is meaningless. Well, not only what they do, but even their very existence, is absurd, both in action and in other creatures.

Moreover, the existence of human beings in their current form is vulnerable, and even the bodies and intellects of people in the past and present are controlled by the current under the skin. Sexuality is just a current, not even the most powerful one. Not to mention the existence of people in the future, so it can be said that this film does not discuss the future. It is not pessimistic about the future, but does not need or think of any motivation to discuss it, because it believes that the present includes the future, and the present also quickly become a thing of the past.

No matter whether the novelist injects drugs or the "black medicine" concocted by the Brazilian rainforest centipede, it still cannot change the novelist's mind and creation is the secretion of a kind of intoxication process, yes, their mind is also, and only the storage of this secretion Just a device. If people try to create, and really get close to this process, it is the "Secret" industrial chain, which is intricate and full of mysteries. If a person can realize before death how many secrets there are in this world, he didn't see it with his own eyes, he didn't even know they exist, and he can never figure out these secrets, and once a person achieves this realization, almost no one feels Your life is worth living, and you don't feel that your life is worth living. In particular, novelists go to another life by closing off their real life—the Promised Land. Therefore, "midi", "black medicine" and "typewriter turned into an ass" are definitely not imaginations or hallucinations. Among all the brainstorms a person may encounter in one's life, the typewriter that the butt turns into is even the most A mild summer afternoon breeze, and a more intuitive explanation of the secret - the connection established by human beings may be the most philosophical and the most divine connection in the world. Homosexuality, or "admiration", inspires the most energy that actually controls the world.

And women, creatures like typewriters, said they were another creature. As for what it is, no one knows if it is a centipede. A novelist cannot be pure and immaculate when he writes in his imagination, he cannot have the bright eyes of a child. He wouldn't let go of his typewriter. He gave his typewriter the most vicious imagination. The reports he kept submitting were useless, because of the fact that the female housekeeper always patrolled its territory with medicine and a whip. , give punishment, distribute according to needs, as for those who are not satisfied, their extra desires are also a reasonable distribution. So the novelist's imagination stopped at himself, and he saw that the typewriter was a butt, a hairy butt that was joined together. His mirror only he takes it as a mirror and only he can see his imagination. The adult-shaped centipede poisons the beautiful and feminine young man, many tentacles penetrate the skin, tear open the muscles, and satisfy the really powerful and insufferable sexual thirst. Even the narration of this movie is extremely cruel, but the cruelty is not real, it is an imagination, and isn't the imagination established just because it was once believed to be true? So, the novelist temporarily leaves cruelty and goes to another place where he uses the genitals in a different way, he is peeing, or rather, he can never fully imagine, because he is a far from enough vessel.

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Extended Reading

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.