Here’s the simple narrative. I was puzzling over some of Shane MacGowan’s lyrics, struck by the viscerality of his fear of ghosts and corpses as well as the frequency with which they appeared in even the songs with the jauntiest melodies.
Rich, gay, habitually solitary and a cross-dresser, or better, simply an inveterate dresser-(upper), Raymond Roussel is, along with Antonin Artaud, by far the most well-known fou, if not necessarily its most beloved, at least not by those who consider themselves serious students of the genre. That honor I would argue goes to Jean-Pierre Brisset, of whom more later.
i guess we all need the mike because the people in the back wont hear it it feels a little weird to me to have it the glasses are a mistake i only use them for reading and i cant see you if i have the glasses on and ive learned in recent years ive learned from the fact that i can no longer see anything clearly sixteen inches from my face that i need glasses