Free The Adding Machine by William S. Burroughs Page B

someone’s image and then show that image to millions of people. You can see how easy it is, if you own a newspaper, to start slipping in non-existent events; this has been and is being done all the time — by TIME especially, in fact. Starting with being a week ahead, they literally write the news before it happens; which is why they print so many false statements that they have to retract. And so you get a retraction from them — how many people read the retraction compared to the number who have read the falsified story? You have all heard this one: a story went out that some hippies tripping on LSD stared at the sun and went blind. Later there was a retraction — the story was a hoax. But more people saw the story than saw the retraction, so the story is still circulating and still believed.
    William Randolph Hearst had two house rules at San Simeon: One, everybody staying in Mr Hearst’s house must appear at dinner no matter what condition he or she is in. That’s very understandable — otherwise people would be goofing off in their rooms, imitating his mannerisms, and he would lose control of the situation. It’s the old Army game of Roll Call. And rule number two: nobody may mention the word DEATH in Mr Hearst’s presence. There is a very good magical reason for that rale. Mr Hearst was playing Death. Playing Death means you must always be able to affect others, but they may never be allowed to affect you. Someone comes down to dinner in a skeleton suit, the old man could lose his position.
    So what is the difference between Hearst and a writer of fiction? I mean a real writer, like Beckett, Genet, Joyce, Hemingway, Conrad, Fitzgerald, Kafka... right away we have a distinction: can you imagine a writer or an artist who would be afraid to hear the word DEATH? I sure can’t. Any writer who cannot hear that word is not a writer. It can only mean one thing: he is trying to play Death and is not sure of his credentials, like a fake cop doesn’t want to see a real one. Another distinction is responsibility. Genet says that a writer assumes the terrible burden of responsibility for the characters he creates. They are his creations and he is responsible for them. Journalists on the other hand have no responsibility whatever for the characters they create. Let them go and hijack a plane, kill five women in Arizona, assassinate the President, and what happens to them after that? Who cares? A basic difference in attitude.
    I have given my students several exercises to sharpen their perception as writers and to help them make their own enquiries into the nature of word and image as they manifest themselves along association lines. The exercise that has elicited the greatest response and produced the most interesting results has been the Walk Exercise. Basically it consists in taking a walk with the continuity and perceptions you encounter. The original version of this exercise was taught me by an old Mafia Don in Columbus, Ohio: seeing everyone on the street before he sees you. Do this for a while in any neighbourhood, and you will soon meet other players who are doing the same thing. Generally speaking, if you see other people before they see you, they won’t see you. I have even managed to get past a whole block of guides and shoeshine boys in Tangier this way, thus earning my Moroccan monicker: ‘El Hombre Invisible’. Another version of this exercise is simply to give no one a reason to look at you. Sooner or later, however, someone will see you. Try to guess why he saw you — what were you thinking when he saw your face?
    Another exercise that is very effective is walking on colors. Pick out all the reds on a street, focusing only on red objects — brick, lights, sweaters, signs. Shift to green, blue, orange, yellow. Notice how the colors begin to stand out more sharply of their own accord. I was walking on yellow when I saw a yellow amphibious jeep near the comer of 94th Street and Central Park West. It was