Thanks

When I was quite young, living in a farmhouse in rural Illinois, I had permission to stay up late and watch U2’s Zooropa live marketing fuckfest, when it was so cutting edge to satellite link Bono to Lou Reed to sing satellite of love–and there was Lou, projected on a 50-foot screen–the only way he could possibly be a bigger dick. In the midst of all this showmanship for showmanship’s sake, they showed this video of Burroughs. Now, The strange part is that later on, I rented it and cringed my way through the excessive smugness to look for the video again, remembering this weird old man (no, not Bono) who might be onto something–but the video wasn’t there. Little did I know the severity of impact this man would have on my life–and it all started with this video.

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