Bobby Campbell's artwork for these weekly postings. Thanks again, Bobby!
(This week: "But three hours after Drake's death," page 359, to "It would be interesting to get into mathematics, really deep," page 368.)
This section is all over the place, and it's beyond the abilities of your humble blogger to write a blog post that ties all of it together. But let's look at some of the pieces.
"The fear of death is the beginning of slavery," page 363. Because it is the source of religion? Because it inhibits clear thinking?
In any event, as Jesse Walker pointed out in this blog posting back in 2007 when RAW died, RAW's last written words, on his blog, did not show a fear of death. The last entry reads,
Various medical authorities swarm in and out of here predicting I have between two days and two months to live. I think they are guessing. I remain cheerful and unimpressed. I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread. I love you all and I deeply implore you to keep the lasagna flying.
Please pardon my levity, I don't see how to take death seriously. It seems absurd.
Jesse's blog post cites an article about the Marquis de Sade, although I don't know if de Sade's works is where RAW got the quotation.
"He didn't recall TV newscasters being that obnoxious," page 362. And this was before Fox News and MSNBC.
Sexuality, Magic and Perversion by Francis King, page 364. Not only a real book, but it's back in print -- you can even get an ebook.
"AUM, the drug that promised to turn neophobes into neophiles," page 364. In a sense, the Illuminatus! trilogy is a literary form of AUM.
"a tall redhead," page 366. Was Arlen Wilson tall, or is this a reference to somebody else?
"A series of odd questions," page 367. Pages 367-368 are both very funny and very serious. For me, it's one of the best parts of the work. The "odd questions" about U.S. national security policy are in fact a series of very reasonable questions, but ones that seldom get asked. In fact, everything from "What would you think of a man?" to "paranoid schizophrenic" in the long paragraph on page 367 would work fine as the text of a leaflet in a peace demonstration, assuming that any bystanders could be persuaded to read in and to "wake up."
"What is this man not only is feuding with the people on his blog but involves himself in the quarrels of others in distance parts of the city and even in the suburbs?" page 367. Thank heavens this is merely amusing satire and no longer has any relevance to U.S. foreign policy.
(Next week: "Harold Canvera had not bothered to fill out a questionnaire," page 368, to page 384, "Rebecca. Rebecca. Rebecca.")