charging the canvas

READING:

Rule by Secrecy by Jim Marrs

The Rotter's Club by Jonathan Coe

The Cult of the Black Virgin by Ean Begg

Concrete and Buckshot (paintings by William S. Burroughs)

RECENT VIEWING:

From Hell

Salvador

Brazil

Mona Lisa

Eat or be Eaten (Firesign Theatre)

The Mothman Prophecies

RECENT PLAYLIST

Robert Wyatt - "Solar Flares"

Eno Moebius Roedelius - "The Belldog"
"Old Land"

Laurie Anderson - "Big Science"

Bryan Ferry - "I Thought"

Jeff Greinke - "Foreign Corridor"

Kiln - "Toypieceplate"

Jon Hassell & Brian Eno - "Delta Rain Dream"

Michael Brook - "Mimosa"

Another Green World - "Becalmed"

Perhaps, Converse thought, as he managed the business of banknote-sized toilet paper and washed his hands, perhaps the vague dissatisfaction was a moral objection. Back across the air shaft, he secured the rusty double locks and took another swallow of Scotch. When Converse wrote thoughtful pieces for the small European publications which employed him, he was always careful to assume a standpoint from which moral objections could be inferred. He knew the sort of people he was addressing and he knew the sort of moral objections they found most satisfying. Since his journey to Cambodia, he had experienced a certain difficulty in responding to moral objections but it seemed to him that he knew a good deal about them.

There were moral objections to children being blown out of sleep to death on a filthy street. And to their being burned to death by jellied petroleum. There were moral objections to house lizards being senselessly butchered by madmen. And moral objections to people spending thier lives shooting scag...

The last moral objection that Converse experienced in the traditional manner had been his reaction to the Great Elephant Zap of the previous year. That winter, the Military Advisory Command, Vietnam, had decided that elephants were enemy agents because the NVA used them to carry things, and there had ensued a scene worthy of the Ramayana. Many-armed, hundred-headed MACV had sent forth steel-bodied flying insects to destroy his enemies, the elephants. All over the country, whooping sweating gunners descended from the cloud cover to stampede the herds and mow them down with 7.62-millimeter machine guns.

The Great Elephant Zap had been too much and had disgusted everyone. Even the chopper crews who remembered the day as one of insane exhiliration had been somewhat appalled. There was a feeling that there were limits.

And as for dope, Converse thought, and addicts -- if the world is going to contain elephants pursued by flying men, people are just naturally going to want to get high.

So there, Converse thought, that's the way its done. He had confronted a moral objection and overridden it. He could deal with these matters as well as anyone.

But the vague dissatisfaction remained and it was not loneliness or a moral objection; it was, of course, fear. Fear was extremely important to Converse; morally speaking it was the basis of his life. It was the medium through which he perceived his own soul, the formula through which he could confirm his own existence. I am afraid, Converse reasoned, therefore I am.

from Dog Soldiers by Robert Stone

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WEEKLY QUOTE

Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.
-- Oscar Wilde

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