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Фантастика. Фэнтези
   Зарубежная фантастика
      Вильям Берроуз. Голый завтрак (engl) -
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ur in grunting and squealing, faces tumescent, eyes hot and red, lips purple, fall on the American women. (Eskimos have a rutting season when the tribes meet in short Summer to disport themselves in orgies. Their faces swell and lips turn purple. ) A House Dick with cigar two feet long sticks his head in through the wall: "Have you got a menagerie in here?" Hassan wrings his hands: "A shambles! A filthy shambles! By Allah I never see anything so downright nasty!" He whirls on A.J. who is sitting on a sea chest, parrot on shoulder, patch over one eye, drinking rum from a tankard. He scans the horizon with a huge brass telescope. Hassan: "You cheap Factualist bitch! Go and never darken my rumpus room again!" CAMPUS OF INTEъZONE UNIVEъSITY Donkeys, camels, llamas, rickshaws, carts of merchan- dise pushed by straining boys, eyes protruding like strangled tongues -- throbbing red with animal hate. Herds of sheep and goats and long-horned cattle pass between the students and the lecture platform. The students sit around on rusty park benches, lime- stone blocks, outhouse seats, packing crates, oil drums, stumps, dusty leather hassacks, mouldy gym mats. They wear levis -- jellabas... hose and doublet -- drink corn from mason jars, coffee from tin cans, smoke gage (marijuana) in cigarettes made of wrapping paper and lottery tickets... shoot junk with a safety pin and dropper, study racing forms, comic books, Mayan co- dices.... The Professor arrives on a bicycle carrying a string of bull heads. He mounts the platform holding his back (crane swings a bellowing cow over his head). Prof: "Fucked by the Sultan's Army last night. I have dislocate the back in the service of my resident queen.... Can't evict that old gash. Need a licensed brain electrician disconnect her synapsis by synapsis and a surgical bailiff put her guts out on the sidewalk. When Ma move in on a boy bag and buggage he play Hell dispossess that Gold Star Boarder...." He looks at the bull heads humming tunes from the 1920s. "The nostalgia fit is on me boys and will out willy silly... boys walk down the carny Midway eating pink spun sugar... goose each other at the peep show... jack off in the Ferris Wheel throw sperm at the moon rising red and smoky over the foundries across the river. A Nigra hangs from a cotton wood in front of The Old Court House... whimpering women catch his sperm in vaginal teeth.... (Husband looks at the little changeling with narrow eyes the color of a faded grey flannel shirt.... 'Doc, I suspect it to be a Nigra.' The Doctor shrugs: 'It's the Old Army Game, son. Pea under the shell... Now you see it now you don't....') "And Doc Parker in the back room in his drugstore shooting horse heroin three grains a jolt -- 'Tonic,' he mutters. 'It's always Spring.' " 'Hands' Benson Town Pervert has took up a queren- cia in the school privy (Querencia is bullfight term.... The bull will find a spot in the ring he likes ".nd stay there and the bullfighter has to go in and meet the bull on his bull terms or coax him out -- one or the other). Sheriff A.Q. 'Flat' Larsen say 'Some way we gotta lure him outa that querencia.'...And Old Ma Lottie sleep ten years with a dead daughter and home cured too, wakes shivering in the East Texas dawn... vultures out over the black swamp water and cypress stumps.... "And now gentlemen -- I trust there are no transvest- ites present -- he he -- and you are all gentlemen by act of Congress it being only remain to establish you male humans, positively no Transitionals in either direction will be allowed in this decent hall. Gentlemen, present short arms. Now you have all been briefed on the im- portance of keeping your weapons well lubricated and ready for any action flank or rear guard." Students: "Hear! Hear!" They wearily unbutton their flies. One of them brandishes a huge erection. PъOF: "And now, gentlemen, where was I? Oh yes, Ma Lottie... She wake shivering in the gentle pink dawn, pink as the candles on a little girl's birthday cake, pink as spun sugar, pink as a sea-shell, pink as a cock pulsing in a red fucking light.... Ma Lottie... hu- rumph... if this prolixity be not cut short will succumb to the infirmities of age and join her daughter in for- maldehyde. "The ъime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge the poet... I should like to call your attention to the symbolism of the Ancient Mariner himself." Students: "Himself the man says." "Thereby call attention to his own unappetizing person. "That wasn't a nice thing to do, Teach." A hundred juvenile delinquents... switch blades clicking like teeth move at him. Prof: "Oh Landsakes!" He tries desperately to dis- guise himself as an old woman with high black shoes and umbrella.... "If it wasn't for my lumbago can't rightly bend over I'd turn them offering my Sugar Bum the way baboons do it.... If a weaker baboon be at- tacked by a stronger baboon the weaker baboon will either (a) present his hrump fanny I believe is the word, gentlemen, heh heh for passive intercourse or (b) if he is a different type baboon more extrovert and well-adjusted, lead an attack on an even weaker baboon if he can find one." Dilapidated Disease in 1920 clothes like she sleep in them ever since undulates across dreary neonlighted Chicago street... dead weight of the Dear Dead Days hanging in the air like an earth-bound ghost. Disease: (canned heat tenor). "Find the weakest baboon." Frontier saloon: Fag Baboon dressed in little girl blue dress sings in resigned voice to tune of Alice Blue Gown: "I'm the weakest baboon of them all." A freight train separates the Prof. from the juveniles. ...When the train passes they have fat stomachs and responsible jobs.... STUDENTS: "We want Lottie!" Prof: "That was in another country, gentlemen.... As I was saying before I was so rudely irrupted by one of my multiple personalities... troublesome little beasts... consider the Ancient Mariner without curare, lasso, bul- bocapnine or straitjacket, albeit able to capture and hold a live audience.... What is his hurmp gimmick? He he he he... He does not, like so-called artists at this time, stop just anybody thereby inflicting unsent for boredom and working random hardship.... He stops those who cannot choose but hear owing to al- ready existing relation between The Mariner (however ancient) and the uh Wedding Guest.... "What the Mariner actually says is not important.... He may be rambling, irrelevant, even crude and ram- pant senile. But something happens to the Wedding Guest like happens in psychoanalysis when it happens if it happens. If I may be permitted a slight digression ...an analyst of my acquaintance does all the talking -- patients listen patiently or not.... He reminiscences ...tells dirty jokes (old ones) achieves counterpoints of idiocy undreamed of by The County Clerk. He is illustrating at some length that nothing can ever be accomplished on the verbal level.... He arrived at this method through observing that The Listener -- The Ana- lyst -- was not reading the mind of the patient.... The patient -- The Talker -- was reading his mind.... That is the patient has ESP awareness of the analyst's dreams and schemes whereas the analyst contacts the patient strictly from front brain.... Many agents use this ap- proach -- they are notoriously long-winded bores and bad listeners.... "Gentlemen I will slop a pearl: You can find out more about someone by talking than by listening." Pigs rush up and the Prof. pours buckets of pearls into a trough.... "I am not worthy to eat his feet," says the fattest hog of them all. "Clay anyhoo." A.J.'S ANNUAL PAъTY A.J. turns to the guests. "Cunts, pricks, fence strad- dlers, tonight I give you -- that international-known im- pressario of blue movies and short-wave TV, the one, the only, The Great Slashtubitch!" He points to a red velvet curtain sixty feet high. Lightning rends the curtain from top to bottom. The Great Slashtubitch stands revealed. His face is immense, immobile like a Chimu funeral urn. He wears full eve- ning dress, blue cape and blue monocle. Huge grey eyes with tiny black pupils that seem to spit needles. (Only the Coordinate Factualist can meet his gaze. ) When he is angered the charge of it will blow his monocle across the room. Many an ill-starred actor has felt the icy blast of Slashtubitch's displeasure: "Get out of my studio, you cheap four-flushing ham! Did you think to pass a counterfeit orgasm on me! THE GъEAT SLASHTU- BITCH! I could tell if you come by regard the beeg toe. Idiot! Mindless scum!! Insolent baggage!!! Go ped- dle thy ass and know that it takes sincerity and art, and devotion, to work for Slashtubitch. Not shoddy trickery, dubbed gasps, rubber turds and vials of milk concealed in the ear and shots of Yohimbine sneaked in the wings." ( Yohimbine, derived from the bark of a tree growing in Central Africa, is the safest and most effi- cient aphrodisiac. It operates by dilating the blood vessels on the surface of the skin, particularly in the genital area. ) Slashtubitch ejects his monocle. It sails out of sight, returns like a boomerang into his eye. He pirouettes and disappears in a blue mist, cold as liquid air... fadeout.... On Screen. ъed-haired, green-eyed boy, white skin with a few freckles... kissing a thin brunette girl in slacks. Clothes and hair-do suggest existentialist bars of all the world cities. They are seated on low bed covered in white silk. The girl opens his pants with gentle fingers and pulls out his cock which is small and very hard. A drop of lubricant gleams at its tip like a pearl. She caresses the crown gently: "Strip, Johnny." He takes off his clothes with swift sure movements and stands naked before her, his cock pulsing. She makes a motion for him to turn around and he pirouettes across the floor parodying a model, hand on hip. She takes off her shirt. Her breasts are high and small with erect nipples. She slips off her underpants. Her pubic hairs are black and shiny. He sits down beside her and reaches for her breast. She stops his hands. "Darling, I want to rim you," she whispers. "No. Not now." "Please, I want to." "Well, all right. I'll go wash my ass." "No, I'll wash it." "Aw shucks now, it ain't dirty." "Yes it is. Come on now, Johnny boy." She leads him into the bathroom. "All right, get down." He gets down on his knees and leans forward, with his chin on the bath mat. "Allah," he says. He looks back and grins at her. She washes his ass with soap and hot water sticking her finger up it. "Does that hurt?" "Noooooooooo." "Come along, baby." She leads the way into the bed- room. He lies down on his back and throws his legs back over his head, clasping elbows behind his knees. She kneel down and caress the backs of his thighs, his balls, running her fingers down the perennial divide. She push his cheeks apart, lean down and begin licking the anus, moving her head in a slow circle. She push at the sides of the asshole, licking deeper and deeper. He close his eyes and squirm. She lick up the perennial divide. His small, tight balls.... A great pearl stands out on the tip of his circumcised cock. Her mouth closes over the crown. She sucks rhythmically up and down, pausing on the up stroke and moving her head around in a circle. Her hand plays gently with his balls, slide down and middle finger up his ass. As she suck down toward the root of his cock she tickle his prostate mock- ingly. He grin and fart. She is sucking his cock now in a frenzy. His body begins to contract, pulling up to- ward his chin. Each time the contraction is longer. "Wheeeeeeee!" the boy yell, every muscle tense, his whole body strain to empty through his cock. She drinks his jissom which fills her mouth in great hot spurts. He lets his feet Hop back onto the bed. He arches his back and yawns. Mary is strapping on a rubber penis: "Steely Dan III from Yokohama," she says, caressing the shaft. Milk spurts across the room. "Be sure that milk is pasteurized. Don't go giving me some kinda awful cow disease like anthrax or glanders or aftosa...." "When I was a transvestite Liz in Chi used to work as an exterminator. Make advances to pretty boys for the thrill of being beaten as a man. Later I catch this one kid, overpower him with supersonic judo I learned from an old Lesbian Zen monk. I tie him up, strip off his clothes with a razor and fuck him with Steely Dan I. He is so relieved I don't castrate him literal he come all over my bedbug spray." "What happen to Steely Dan II" "He was torn in two by a bull dike. Most terrific vaginal grip I ever experienced. She could cave in a lead pipe. It was one of her parlor tricks." "And Steely Dan II" "Chewed to bits by a famished candiru in the Upper Baboonsasshole. And don't say 'Wheeeeeeee!' this time." "Why not? It's real boyish." "Barefoot boy, check thy bullheads with the ma- dame." He looks at the ceiling, hands behind his head, cock pulsing. "So what shall I do? Can't shit with that dingus up me. I wonder is it possible to laugh and come at the same time? I recall, during the war, at the Jockey Club in Cairo, me and my asshole buddy, Lu, both gentlemen by act of Congress... nothing else could have done such a thing to either of us.... So we got laughing so hard we piss all over ourselves and the waiter say: 'You bloody hash-heads, get out of here!' I mean, if I can laugh the piss out of me I should be able to laugh out jissom. So tell me something real funny when I start coming. You can tell by certain premonitory quiverings of the prostate gland...." She puts on a record, metallic cocaine be-bop. She greases the dingus, shoves the boy's legs over his head and works it up his ass with a series of corkscrew move- ments of her fluid hips. She moves in a slow circle, re- volving on the axis of the shaft. She rubs her hard nipples across his chest. She kisses him on neck and chin and eyes. He runs his hands down her back to her buttocks, pulling her into his ass. She revolves faster, faster. His body jerks and writhes in convulsive spasms. "Hurry up, please," she says. "The milk is getting cold." He does not hear. She presses her mouth against his. Their faces run together. His sperm hits her breast with light, hot licks. Mark is standing in the doorway. He wears a turtle- neck black sweater. Cold, handsome, narcissistic face. Green eyes and black hair. He looks at Johnny with a slight sneer, his head on one side, hands on his jacket pockets, a graceful hoodlum ballet. He jerk his head and Johnny walk ahead of him into the bedroom. Mary follow. "All right, boys," she say, sitting down naked on a pink silk dais overlooking the bed. "Get with it!" Mark begin to undress with fluid movements, hip- rolls, squirm out of his turtle-neck sweater revealing his beautiful white torso in a mocking belly dance. Johnny deadpan, face frozen, breath quick, lips dry, remove his clothes and drop them on the floor. Mark lets his shorts fall on one foot. He kick like a chorus-girl, sending the shorts across the room. Now he stand naked, his cock stiff, straining up and out. He run slow eyes over Johnny's body. He smile and lick his lips, Mark drop on one knee, pulling Johnny across his back by one arm. He stand up and throw him six feet onto the bed. Johnny land on his back and bounce. Mark jump up and grab Johnny's ankles, throw his legs over his head. Mark's lips are drawn back in a tight snarl. "All right, Johnny boy." He contracts his body, slow and steady as an oiled machine, push his cock up Johnny's ass. Johnny give a great sigh, squirming in ecstasy. Mark hitches his hands behind Johnny's shoul- ders, pulling him down onto his cock which is buried to the hilt in Johnny's ass. Great whistles through his teeth. Johnny screams like a bird. Mark is rubbing his face against Johnny's, snarl gone, face innocent and boyish as his whole liquid being spurt into Johnny's quivering body. A train roar through him whistle blowing... boat whistle, foghorn, sky rocket burst over oily lagoons... penny arcade open into a maze of dirty pictures... ceremonial cannon boom in the harbor... a scream shoots down a white hospital corridor... out along a wide dusty street between palm trees, whistles out across the desert like a bullet (vulture wings husk in the dry air), a thousand boys come at once in out- houses, bleak public school toilets, attics, basements, treehouses, Ferris wheels, deserted houses, limestone caves, rowboats, garages, barns, rubbly windy city out- skirts behind mud walls (smell of dried excrement)... black dust blowing over lean copper bodies... ragged pants dropped to cracked bleeding bare feet... (place where vultures fight over fish heads)... by jungle la- goons, vicious fish snap at white sperm floating on black water, sand flies bite the copper ass, howler monkies like wind in the trees (a land of great brown rivers where whole trees float, bright colored snakes in the branches, pensive lemurs watch the shore with sad eyes), a red plane traces arabesques in blue substance of sky, a rattlesnake strike, a cobra rear, spread, spit white venom, pearl and opal chips fall in a slow silent rain through air clear as glycerine. Time jump like a broken typewriter, the boys are old men, young hips quivering and twitching in boy-spasms go slack and flabby, draped over an outhouse seat, a park bench, a stone wall in Spanish sunlight, a sagging furnished room bed (outside red brick slum in clear winter sun- light)... twitching and shivering in dirty underwear, probing for a vein in the junk-sick morning, in an Arab cafe muttering and slobbering -- the Arabs whisper "Medjoub" and edge away -- (a Medjoub is a special sort of religious Moslem lunatic... often epileptic among other disorders). "The Moslems must have blood and jissom.... See, see where Christ's blood streams in the spermament," howls the Medjoub.... He stand up screaming and black blood spurt solid from his last erection, a pale white statue standing there, as if he had stepped whole across t

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