seconds. The  signals are
gradually  speeded up  beyond his  reaction time.  Half an
hour  on  the  switchboard  and  the  subject  breaks down
like an overloaded thinking machine.
  "The  study  of  thinking   machines  teaches   us  more
about  the  brain  than  we  can  learn  by  introspective
methods.  Western  man  is  externalizing  himself  in the
form of gadgets. Ever pop  coke in  the mainline?  It hits
you  right in  the brain,  activating connections  of pure
pleasure.  The  pleasure  of morphine  is in  the viscera.
You  listen  down  into yourself  after a  shot. But  C is
electricity through the  brain, and  the C  yen is  of the
brain  alone,  a  need without  body and  without feeling.
The C-charged brain is a  berserk pinball  machine, flash-
ing blue and pink  lights in  electric orgasm.  C pleasure
could be felt by a thinking  machine, the  first stirrings
of hideous insect  life. The  craving for  C lasts  only a
few hours, as long as  the C  channels are  stimulated. Of
course  the effect  of C  could be  produced by  an electric
current activating the C channels....
 "So  after a  bit the  channels wear  out like  veins, and
the addict  has to  find new  ones. A  vein will  come back
in  time, and  by adroit  vein rotation  a junky  can piece
out the odds if he don't  become an  oil burner.  But brain
cells  don't  come  back  once they're  gone, and  when the
addict runs out of brain cells he is in a  terrible fucking
position.
 "Squatting   on   old  bones   and  excrement   and  rusty
iron,  in  a  white  blaze  of  heat,  a panorama  of naked
idiots stretches to the horizon.  Complete silence  -- their
speech centers are destroyed  -- except  for the  crackle of
sparks  and  the  popping  of  singed  flesh  as  they apply
electrodes  up  and   down  the   spine.  White   smoke  of
burning  Flesh  hangs  in  the  motionless  air. A  group of
children  have tied  an idiot  to a  post with  barbed wire
and  built  a  fire  between  his  legs  and  stand watching
with bestial curiosity as  the Flames  lick his  thighs. His
flesh jerks in the fire with insect agony.
 "I  digress  as  usual.  Pending  more  precise  knowledge
of  brain electronics,  drugs remain  an essential  tool of
the interrogator in his assault  on the  subject's personal
identity. The barbiturates are,  of course,  virtually use-
less.  That  is,  anyone  who  can be  broken down  by such
means  would  succumb  to  the  puerile  methods   used  in
an  American  precinct.  Scopolamine  is often  effective in
dissolving  resistance,  but  it  impairs  the  memory:  an
agent might  be prepared  to reveal  his secrets  but quite
unable to  remember them,  or cover  story and  secret life
info  might  be  inextricably  garbled.  Mescaline,  harma-
line,  LSD6,  bufotenine,  muscarine  successful   in  many
cases.   Bulbocapnine   induces   a   state   approximating
schizophrenic  catatonia...  instances  of  automatic  obe-
dience  have  been  observed.   Bulbocapnine  is   a  back-
brain  depressant  probably  putting  out  of   action  the
centers  of motion  in the  hypothalamus. Other  drugs that
have  produced  experimental  schizophrenia   --  mescaline,
harmaline,  LSD6  --  are  backbrain stimulants.  In schizo-
phrenia  the  backbrain   is  alternately   stimulated  and
depressed.  Catatonia  is  often  followed  by a  period of
excitement  and  motor  activity   during  which   the  nut
rushes  through  the  wards  giving  everyone  a  bad time.
Deteriorated  schizos  sometimes  refuse  to  move  at  all
and spend their lives in  bed. A  disturbance of  the regu-
latory  function of  the hypothalamus  is indicated  as the
'cause' (causal thinking never yields  accurate description
of metabolic  process --  limitations of  existing language)
of  schizophrenia.  Alternate  doses  of  LSD6  and  bulbo-
capnine  --  the  bulbocapnine  potientiated  with  curare --
give the highest yield of automatic obedience.
  "There  are  other  procedures.  The  subject can  be re-
duced  to  deep  depression  by  administering  large doses
of benzedrine for  several days.  Psychosis can  be induced
by continual large doses of  cocaine or  demerol or  by the
abrupt  withdrawal  of  barbiturates  after  prolonged  ad-
ministration.  He  can  be  addicted  by dihydro-oxy-heroin
and  subjected  to  withdrawal  (this  compound  should  be
five  times  as  addicting  as  heroin,  and  the withdrawal
proportionately severe ).
  "There  are  various  'psychological   methods,'  compul-
sory  psychoanalysis,  for  example.  The  subject  is  re-
quested  to  free-associate  for  one  hour  every  day (in
cases where time is not of the essence). 'Now, now. Let's
not be  negative, boy.  Poppa call  nasty man.  Take baby
walkabout switchboard.'
  "The case of a female agent who  forgot her  real iden-
tity and merged with  her cover  story --  she is  still a
fricoteuse in Annexia -- put me  onto another  gimmick. An
agent is trained to deny his agent identity  by asserting
his cover story. So why not use psychic jiu-jitsu  and go
along with him? Suggest that his cover story is his iden-
tity and that he has no other. His agent identity becomes
unconscious, that is, out of his control; and you can dig
it  with  drugs  and  hypnosis.  You  can  make  a square
heterosexual citizen queer with this angle... that is, rein-
force and second his rejection  of normally  latent homo-
sexual trends -- at the  same time  depriving him  of cunt
and subjecting  him to  homosexual stimulation.  Then drugs,
hypnosis, and --" Benway flipped a limp wrist.
  "Many  subjects are  vulnerable to  sexual humiliation.
Nakedness,  stimulation  with aphrodisiacs,  constant su-
pervision to embarrass subject and prevent relief of mas-
turbation (erections during  sleep automatically  turn on
an  enormous  vibrating electric  buzzer that  throws the
subject out  of bed  into cold  water, thus  reducing the
incidence  of  wet dreams  to a  minimum). Kicks  to hyp-
notize a priest and tell  him he  is about  to consummate
a hypostatic union  with the  Lamb --  then steer  a randy
old sheep  up his  ass. After  that the  Interrogator can
gain complete hypnotic  control --  the subject  will come
at  his  whistle, shit  on the  floor if  he but  say Open
Sesame.  Needless to  say, the  sex humiliation  angle is
contraindicated  for  overt  homosexuals. ( I  mean let's
keep  our  eye  on  the  ball here  and remember  the old
party  line... never  know who's  listening in.)  I recall
this one kid, I condition to shit at sight  of me.  Then I
wash his  ass and  screw him.  It was  real tasty.  And he
was a lovely  fellah too.  And some  times a  subject will
burst  into  boyish  tears  because  he  can't  keep  from
ejaculate when  you screw  him. Well,  as you  can plainly
see, the possibilities are  endless like  meandering paths
in a  great big  beautiful garden.  I was  just scratching
that  lovely  surface  when  I am  purged by  Party Poops.
...Well, 'son cosas de la vida.' "

  I  reach  Freeland,  which  is  clean  and dull]1  my God.
Benway  is  directing  the  ъ.C.,  ъeconditioning  Center.
I drop around,  and "What  happened to  so and  so'?" sets
in like: "Sidi Idriss 'The Nark'  Smithers crooned  to the
Senders for a longevity serum. No fool like an old queen."
"Lester  Stroganoff Smuunn  -- 'El  Hassein' --  turned him-
self  into  a  Latah trying  to perfect  A.O.P., Automatic
Obedience  Processing.  A   martyr  to   the  industry..."
(  Latah  is  a  condition occurring  in South  East Asia.
Otherwise  sane,  Latahs  compulsively  imitate  every mo-
tion  once their  attention is  attracted by  snapping the
fingers  or  calling  sharply.  A  form of  compulsive in-
voluntary  hypnosis.  They  sometimes   injure  themselves
trying to imitate the motions of several people at once. )
  "Stop me if you've heard this atomic secret...."
  Benway's  face  retains its  form in  the flash  bulb of
urgency,  subject  at  any  moment  to  unspeakable cleav-
age or metamorphosis.  It flickers  like a  picture moving
in and out of focus.
  "Come  on,"  says  Benway,  "and  I'll  show  you around
the ъ.C."
  We  are  walking  down  a   long  white   hall.  Benway's
voice  drifts  into  my  consciousness  from  no particular
place...  a  disembodied  voice  that  is   sometimes  loud
and  clear,  sometimes  barely  audible  like music  down a
windy street.
  "Isolated  groups  like  natives  of the  Bismarck Archi-
pelago.   No   overt   homosexuality   among    them.   God
damned   matriarchy.   All   matriarchies  anti-homosexual,
conformist  and  prosaic.  Find  yourself  in  a matriarchy
walk don't run to the  nearest frontier.  If you  run, some
frustrate latent queer cop will likely shoot you.  So some-
body  wants  to establish  a beach  head of  homogeneity in
a  shambles  of  potentials  like  West Europe  and U.S.A.?
Another   fucking   matriarchy,   Margaret   Mead  notwith-
standing...  Spot  of  bother there.  Scalpel fight  with a
colleague  in  the  operating  room.  And  my   baboon  as-
sistant  leaped  on  the  patient and  tore him  to pieces.
Baboons  always  attack  the weakest  party in  an alterca-
tion. Quite right too.  We must  never forget  our glorious
simian  heritage.  Doc  Browbeck  was  party   inna  second
part.  A  retired  abortionist  and junk  pusher (he  was a
veterinarian  actually)  recalled  to  service  during  the
manpower  shortage.  Well,  Doc  had  been in  the hospital
kitchen  all  morning  goosing  the  nurses and  tanking up
on coal gas and  Klim --  and just  before the  operation he
sneaked a double shot of nutmeg to nerve himself up."
  (In  England  and  especially  in Edinburgh  the citizens
bubble  coal gas  through Klim  -- a  horrible form  of pow-
dered milk tasting like rancid chalk -- and  pick up  on the
results.  They  hock everything  to pay  the gas  bill, and
when  the  man  comes  around to  shut it  off for  the eon-
payment,  you  can  hear  their screams  for miles.  When a
citizen is sick from needing it he says "I got  the klinks"
or "That old stove climbing up my back."
  Nutmeg.  I  quote  from  the  author's  article  on  nar-
cotic  drugs  in  the  British Journal  of Addiction  ( see
Appendix  ):  "Convicts  and  sailors  sometimes  have  re-
course  to   nutmeg.  About   a  tablespoon   is  swallowed
with  water.  ъesult  vaguely  similar  to  marijuana  with
side effects  of headache  and nausea.  There are  a number
of  narcotics  of  the  nutmeg  family  in  use  among  the
Indians  of  South America.  They are  usually administered
by  sniffing  a  dried  powder  of  the plant.  The medicine
men  take  these  noxious  substances  and go  into convul-
sive states. Their twitchings  and mutterings  are thought
to have prophetic significance." )
  "I  had  a  Yage  hangover,  me, and  in no  condition to
take  any  of  Browbeck's  shit.  First  thing he  comes on
with I should start the incision from  the back  instead of
the  front,  muttering  some  garbled nonsense  about being
sure  to  cut out  the gall  bladder it  would fuck  up the
meat.  Thought  he  was  on  the  farm cleaning  a chicken.
I told him  to go  put his  head back  in the  oven, where-
upon  he  had  the  effrontery  to  push  my  hand  severing
the  patient's  femoral  artery.   Blood  spurted   up  and
blinded  the  anesthetist,  who ran  out through  the halls
screaming.  Browbeck  tried to  knee me  in the  groin, and
I   managed   to   hamstring  him   with  my   scalpel.  He
crawled  about  the  floor  stabbing  at  my feet  and legs.
Violet,  that's  my baboon  assistant --  only woman  I ever
cared a damn about  -- really  wigged. I  climbed up  on the
table  and  poise  myself  to  jump  on Browbeck  with both
feet and stomp him when the cops rushed in.
  "Well,  this  rumble   in  the   operating  room,   'this  un-
speakable  occurrence'  as  the  Super  called  it,   you  might
say  was  the  blow  off.  The  wolf  pack  was closing  for the
kill.  A crucifixion,  that's the  only word  for it.  Of course
I'd  made  a  few  'dumheits'  here   and  there.   Who  hasn't?
There  was  the  time  me  and  the  anesthetist  drank  up  all
the  ether  and  the  patient  came   up  on   us,  and   I  was
accused   of   cutting  the   cocaine  with   Sanifiush.  Violet
did it actually. Had to protect her of course....
  "So  the  wind-up   is  we   are  all   drummed  out   of  the
industry.  Not  that  Violet  was  a  bona  fide  croaker,  nei-
ther   was   Browbeck  for   that  matter,   and  even   my  own
certificate  was  called  in  question.  But  Violet  knew  more
medicine   than  the   Mayo  Clinic.   She  had   an  extraordi-
nary intuition and a high sense of duty.
  "So  there  I  was  flat  on  my  ass  with   no  certificate.
Should  I  turn  to   another  trade?   No.  Doctoring   was  in
my  blood.   I  managed   to  keep   up  my   habits  performing
cutrate  abortions  in  subway  toilets.  I  even  descended  to
hustling  pregnant  women   in  the   public  streets.   It  was
positively  unethical.  Then  I  met   a  great   guy,  Placenta
Juan  the  After  Birth  Tycoon.  Made  his  in   slunks  during
the  war.  (Slunks  are  underage  calves  trailing  afterbirths
and  bacteria,  generally  in  an   unsanitary  and   unfit  con-
dition.  A  calf  may  not  be  sold  as  food until  it reaches
a  minimum  age  of  six  weeks.  Prior  to  that  time   it  is
classified  as  a  slunk.  Slunk  trafficking  is  subject  to a
heavy  penalty.)  Well,  Juanito  controlled  a  fleet  of  cargo
boats   he  register   under  the   Abyssinian  flag   to  avoid
bothersome   restrictions.  He   gives  me   a  job   as  ship's
doctor on the S.S. Filiarisis, as filthy a craft as  ever sailed
the seas. Operating with one hand, beating the  rats offa
my  patient  with  the  other  and bedbugs  and scorpions
rain down from the ceiling.
  "So  somebody  wants  homogeneity  at   this  juncture.
Can do but it costs.  Bored with  the whole  project, me.
...Here we are.... Drag Alley."
  Benway traces a pattern in  the air  with his  hand and
a  door  swings  open.  We  step  through  and  the  door
closes. A long ward gleaming with stainless  steel, white
tile floors, glass brick  walls. Beds  along one  wall. No
one smokes, no one reads, no one talks.
  "Come  and  take  a  close  look,"  says  Benway.  "You
won't embarrass anybody."
  I walk over and stand in front of a man who  is sitting
on his bed.  I look  at the  man's eyes.  Nobody, nothing
looks back.
  "IND's,"  says  Benway,  "Irreversible  Neural  Damage.
Overliberated, you might say... a drag on the industry."
  I pass a hand in front of the man's eyes.
  "Yes," says  Benway, "they  still have  reflexes. Watch
this."  Benway  takes  a chocolate  bar from  his pocket,
removes the wrapper and holds  it in  front of  the man's
nose. The man sniffs. His  jaws begin  to work.  He makes
snatching motions with his hands.  Saliva drips  from his
mouth  and  hangs  off  his chin  in long  streamers. His
stomach rumbles. His whole  body writhes  in peristalsis.
Benway  steps  back  and  holds  up  the  chocolate.  The
man drops to his knees, throws back  his head  and barks.
Benway  tosses  the  chocolate.  The  man  snaps  at  it,
misses, scrambles  around on  the floor  making slobbering
noises. He crawls under the bed, finds the  chocolate and
crams it into his mouth with both hands.
  "Jesus! These ID's got no class to them."
  Benway  calls  over the  attendant who  is sitting  at one
end of the ward reading a book of J. M. Barrie's plays.
  "Get  these  fucking  ID's  outa here.  It's a  bring down
already. Bad for the tourist business."
  "What should I do with them?"
  "How  in  the  fuck  should  I  know?  I'm a  scientist. A
pure  scientist.  Just  get  them outa  here. I  don't hafta
look at them is all. They constitute an albatross."
  "But what? Where?"
  "Proper  channels.  Buzz   the  District   Coordinator  or
whatever  he   calls  himself...   new  title   every  week.
Doubt if he exists."
  Doctor  Benway  pauses  at  the  door  and  looks  back at
the IND's. "Our failures," he says. "Well,  it's all  in the
day's work."
  "Do they ever come back?"
  "They  don't  come  back,  won't  come back,  once they're
gone,"  Benway  sings  softly.  "Now  this  ward   has  some
innarest.'
  The  patients  stand  in  groups  talking and  spitting on
the floor. Junk hangs in the air like a grey haze.
  "A  heart-warming  sight,"  says  Benway,  "those  junkies
standing  around  waiting  for  the  Man.  Six   months  ago
they  were  all  schizophrenic.  Some  of  them  hadn't been
out of bed for years. Now look  at them.  In all  the course
of  my  practices,  I  have   never  seen   a  schizophrenic
junky,  and  junkies  are  mostly  of  the  schizo  physical
type.  Want  to  cure  anybody  of  anything,  find  out who
doesn't have it. So who don't got it'? Junkies don't got it.
Oh,  incidentally,  there's  an  area  in  Bolivia  with  no
psychosis. ъight sane  folk in  them hills.  Like to  get in
there, me, before it is loused up by  literacy, advertising,
TV  and  drive-ins.  Make  a   study  strictly   from  meta-
bolism:  diet,  use  of  drugs  and  alcohol, sex,  etc. Who
cares  what  they  think?  Same  nonsense  everybody thinks,
I daresay.
  "And   why   don't   junkies   got   schizophrenia?  Don't
know  yet.  A  schizophrenic  can  ignore hunger  and starve
to death if he  isn't fed.  No one  can ignore  heroin with-
drawal. The fact of addiction imposes contact.
  "But  that's  only  one  angle.  Mescaline,  LSD6, deteri-
orated   adrenaline,  harmaline   can  produce   an  approxi-
mat~  schizophrenia. The  best stuff  is extracted  from the
blood of  schizos; so  schizophrenia is  likely a  drug psy-
chosis.  They  got  a  metabolic  connection,  a  Man Within
you  might  say.  ( Interested readers  are referred  to Ap-
pendix. )
  "In  the  terminal  stage  of schizophrenia  the backbrain
is  permanently  depressed,  and the  front brain  is almost
without  content  since the  front brain  is only  active in
response to backbrain stimulation.
  "Morphine  calls  forth the  antidote of  backbrain stimu-
lation  similar  to  schizo  substance.  (  Note  similarity
between   withdrawal   syndrome   and    intoxication   with
Yage or LSD6.  ) Eventual  result of  junk use  -- especially
true  of heroin  addiction where  large doses  are available
to  the  addict  --  is  permanent  backbrain  depression and
a  state  much  like  terminal schizophrenia:  complete lack
of affect, autism,  virtual absence  of cerebral  event. The
addict  can  spend  eight  hours  looking at  a wall.  He is
conscious  of  his  surroundings,  hut  they  have  no  emo-
tional  connotation  and  in  consequence  no  interest. ъe-
membering  a  period  of  heavy  addiction  is  like playing
back  a  tape  recording  of  events  experienced  by the
front brain alone. Flat statements of external events. 'I
went to the  store and  bought some  brown sugar.  I came
home and  ate half  the box.  I took  a three  grain shot
etc.' Complete  absence of  nostalgia in  these memories.
However,  as  soon as  junk intake  falls below  par, the
withdrawal substance floods the body.
  "If all pleasure is relief  from tension,  junk affords
relief from the whole life process, in  disconnecting the
hypothalamus,  which  is  the  center  of  psychic energy
and libido.
  "Some  of  my  learned  colleagues  (nameless assholes)
have  suggested  that  jun