I'm ten minutes in to William S. Burroughs' 1976 lecture on writing sources and the importance of egolessness He's just given me an assignment. Of the writer, he says: "His very own words is his least interesting source." The assignment: "To put together a page or two containing no words of your own. This can come from any source: passages or dialogue, TV, films. Anything that anybody else said. You can cut it up and rearrange it any way you like.” Mine is posted below. I used two sources only, both books.
The Lighthouse and the Chinaman The tale I am to tell you now began some twenty years ago in a See Yup restaurant on Mad River near Humboldt Bay. To be sure, Overbeck could see it. This lighthouse, built on a small rock only 300 feet in diameter, is one of the most exposed lighthouses on the Pacific coast. "What a dear, quaint, curious old place!" exclaimed Miss Ten Eyck. The original lighthouse was probably of masonry. It apparently was completely removed when the stone tower which stands today was built in 1801. "Might just as well be in China itself," he commented. The tower is a substantial building of freestone, smooth hammered, and laid in courses; it is 80 feet in height, and is ascended by an interior stairway of wood, having landings at convenient distances. "This is the way one ought to see places," said Hillegas, as he lit a cigarette; "just nose around by yourself and discover things.” In 1883, the sea, in a storm, encroached upon the ocean side of the station, until the high water line came under the lighthouse. "There's that fortune-teller again," observed Hillegas, presently. "See—down there on the steps of the joss house?" A northeast storm undermined the tower and caused it to fall seaward. "Kanaka?" A 25,000-candlepower light flashes white every 3 seconds and is visible 15 miles at sea. A new flashing lantern was installed, with the characteristic of a one-four-three flash, which lovers on shore soon found contained the same numerical count as the words “I love you.” "Hatchet-man?" said I. The Chinaman was a very gorgeous-looking chap in round horn spectacles and a costume that looked like a man's nightgown, of quilted blue satin. The ironwork for this light was fabricated in the North, and along with other necessary supplies and materials. The establishment of this electric flashing light many complaints were made by residents of the neighborhood of the great discomfort and annoyance caused by the brilliancy of the flash. Now here comes the queer part of this lamentable history. "Time!" Here was a side of the Chinese life he had not seen, nor even suspected. They poured in a heavy fire at all the windows and lantern; that was the time they set fire to the door and to the window even with the ground. And in the midst of it all,—we. They were ducks and drakes. Some were alive but the most were dead. Miss Ten Eyck was gone. He never saw her again. No white man ever did. The lighthouse is now a black and white diagonally checkered tower.
Love it! Great use of the cut up im glad to see another fan of bull lee continuing his work. cheers buddy!
