Bill Burroughs joins the Wild Boys at the Alt Right
I’m studying Bill Burroughs again, the Beat Generation’s “Old Man of The Mountain” and gentleman of letters in post-war America. I have been ruminating on this for a few months and have decided to write a new essay for the restored Alternative Right, my first after the original got a free globalist helicopter ride after the events in Charlottesville. The 1984-type censorship that was on display there I found personally disturbing, not believing that they would actually dare to remove free speech and a certain political outlook from the internet.
Partially in response to this, I wanted to try out a new political take on William S. Burroughs, which I think is in order. Basically Old Bill was a Right-Wing double agent. My hermeneutic is that Burroughs was an agent working for the Right and those still in control of society—us fashy types and Conservatives—in the postwar 1950s and 60s, someone with an insider’s take on the rising globalist elite and their international criminal conspiracies.
I believe that William Burroughs should be seen in this light, and that he was one of the first to truly expose the vast and growing postwar globalist criminal networks. What’s more, he did so from the most secret and dangerous place, the inside of the “Interzone” itself!
“Interzone” and “Interzone Inc.” were his names for the globalist world order. That is also why he always gave off that “spook” or spy vibe and was never unarmed. That kind of person doesn’t like the light of day or the Lord upon them, especially one so razor sharp and inside-knowledgeable as Burroughs.
To normies Burroughs comes across as a true “conspiritard.” That was part of his cover. I think he was worried that Interzone might get wise to the fact that he was a secret double agent on the inside, there to fight them. This is why he was always armed. Common sense, not some arsehole affectaion, because Naked Lunch has a price.
As a major counter-culture figure of the Beat Generation, Burroughs has long fascinated me. He is often associated with the Left and progressive politics, but that too was clearly just a cover. It simply didn’t fit his work.
I twigged to this new angle on him when I was recently re-watching David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch with filmmaker, old friend, and head of the Melbourne Underground Film Festival Frank Howson.
What I twigged to is this: that, while in the belly of the beast, he was constantly digging his way out so that the rest of us could see in, sending out signals from the dark heart of the globalist conspiracy, and that he was happy to lose his own soul in the process of unmasking such a vast evil.
He participated in loathsome debauchery, drugs, sex of all types, and embraced the worst aspects of selfishness and self-destructive behaviour, including some real evil. For example, there are the suspicions that he murdered his wife, and what about his dalliances with underage boys in places like Marrakesh?
But despite that he was always filing reports from the dark heart of the Globalist Conspiracy and was prepared to lose his own soul in the process to unmask such a vast evil. If you really turn down the background noise and listen deeply to what William Burroughs was truly trying to say—there you have it. That is his literary output mostly—a giant, monolithic exposé, a new and unique kind of reporting on the darker aspects of life, humanity, and those behind the various interconnected conspiracies.
But for whom was Burroughs writing these reports? I am here to say that it was for us, for the future children of the New and Alt-Right, and the new dawn that he knew would one day arise to fight them! He was always a Futurist. The purpose of Burroughs’ reports and texts is to awaken and shock us, in short to red pill us beyond slipping back into somnambulance.
Burroughs outlined it all, the full globalist nightmare and conspiracy, as it evolved in the post-WW2 ruins as Interzone Inc.—Dr Benway, Hauser, O’Brian, and retinue; Hassan’s Rumpus room, predatory mugwumps and Bosch-like creatures of addiction and sex that are no longer even human.
This extraordinary nightmare vision was crystallised in Naked Lunch, published in 1959. A testimony of Dante-like proportions, it cries or sometimes screams, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” It is a direct communication to future generations and agents, i.e. us on the Alt-Right, the antithesis to Interzone.
The title Naked Lunch was suggested by the mostly solid and, at times, “right wing” Jack Kerouac. Kerouac was the only Beat Generation author to truly understand Burroughs, and have sympathy for his project.
It was after I viewed Cronenberg’s film adaptation of Naked Lunch that I suddenly realised what was going on. The key metaphor is of course “Interzone,” the most surreal of the locations mentioned in the work and therefore the most symbolic. It literally means “International Zone,” an obvious signifier of a borderless, globalist world, the Empire of Nothingness. Both Burroughs and Cronenberg were devastated as artists by their realisation of this evil. Both the book and, in many ways, the film reflect this confrontation with nihilistic and existential evil.
Naked Lunch’s random connections of strangely aberrant phenomena, seemed hallucinogenic at the time, but now reads more like a terrifying documentary or even instruction manual. The world of drugs, sex, Deep State infiltration, corrupt cops, twisted medical professionals, the Pizzagate elite, networks of blackmail, etc. It is all there.
Despite a feeling of being swamped in decadence and wallowing in it himself, the novel is counter intuitively a deeply moral one, especially when viewed as an exposé. This unlocks its moral energy. In accordance with the best kind of exposé journalism, Burroughs went deep under cover to explore and reveal the nihilistic and destructive Satanic orgy then in full swing at the dark heart of what was becoming the New World Order. This is all seen from the perspective of someone partly lost in this hellish world themselves.
Burroughs’s own lifelong drug and sex addictions was the price that he paid for full access. Only because he compromised himself in this way was he able to enter this world from the inside. This can be seen as a flawed and costly journalistic method or it can be viewed as an act of great bravery, heroism, and self-sacrifice. Dicing with death, Burroughs somehow survived—he used Trump-like 4D chess strategies to confuse the confusers.
Burroughs began filing reports from this new hell so that future generations of the New Dawn, like us, would have a “Spotters Guide” to better identify the insidious malignancy. Naked Lunch and the literary oeuvre of William S Burroughs only make sense when this key finally turns.
Of course, the idea of “the truth on the end of every fork”—a “frozen moment” when we catch a direct glimpse of reality—makes perfect sense now. This is what Jack Kerouac said of the novel. I think that he and Burroughs were in cahoots against true degenerates like Alan Ginsburg.
When it was published in the 1950s, Naked Lunch seemed like a bizarre, avant-garde collection of drug tales, routines, and riffs on American myths, collapsing in on itself. But it has aged like a work of prophecy, presenting a vision of an alienating world, flavoured by Islam, where what was once paranoia has become perspective, and where what was once madness has become the methodology of manipulation and mind control used by the elites. The dominant tone of the book is of an insidious, predatory world, without conscience and without humanity. At the time, in the 1950s, these ideas were underground rumours, but now most of them are so mainstream that they merely elicit shrugs from our acknowledged elites.
Burroughs rolled this toxic brew into a potent and shocking package of underground contemporary reality, seemingly only connected by “paranoia,” or, as Burroughs put it, “knowing all the facts.” Burroughs, as already noted, was a lifelong Conspiracy Theory “nut,” one that would make even Alex Jones blush.
I have already mentioned Interzone as the blueprint of a nihilistic globalism, but what of the other elements of the story? How do they relate to the world that Burroughs saw coming?
Annexia, the fictitious country to which the narrator/agent finally escapes, reads like a purgatory-like place for the red pilled, for those who know the truth and know too much—a stunning metaphor. Then there is the sinister Doctor Benway, an uncanny precursor of George Soros, or even Caitlyn Jenner in one scene.
Interzone Inc. continues to rule over us still to this day.
After I gained my deepened insight into Burroughs’s world, I shared my views with Jack Sargeant, an astute Burroughs scholar with a leftist anarchist world view. Sargeant commented:
“Interzone (the international zone, i.e. Tangiers) was where WSB felt most free in the 50s, to my knowledge he had no interest in borders. The danger for WSB was Control—whether manifested through addiction, religion or big government.”
This frames Burroughs as a kind of Libertarian but obscures the fact that his work has many levels. There is at least a clear duality of an older Conservative moral spirit mixed into—and arcanely commenting on—the Libertarian elements. I suspect that this latter element was merely the cover he used to dupe the corrupt establishment so as to smuggle out his moral message.
Tangiers and other such “open” Arab Globalist cities of the 1950s and 60s was where Ginsburg, the aptly named Paul Bowles, and regrettably even Burroughs himself had cheap access to young boys—that whole set that Kevin Spacey and Charlie Sheen would have just loved to have been part of. What we have here is the 1950s version of the recent Hollywood and Pizzagate scandals, with even a hint of the dark rumours of children smuggled out of Haiti for nefarious purposed by the Clinton foundation and Jeffrey Epstein’s “Pedophile Island” flights, on which Bill Clinton, among others, was a regular.
My point is that while Burroughs was himself an agent of Interzone, and has some actual evil on his own hands, he was in essence a double agent. Cronenberg’s film hints at this duality, and helped me to see it, along with the work of Andy Nowicki, who has a fair-mined approach to conspiracies. My view is that Burroughs and his old Southern Values, was secretly revolted by what he was privy to. He slyly signalled this with his right wing gun fetish, combined with his press photo obsession. Burroughs real agenda was: Death to Interzone! Long live the New Right!
I also believe—controversially—that Burroughs assassinated his wife Joan Vollmer. It was no accident. He was a crack shot. She was a Jewish globalist involved in founding the Beat Generation, and was no doubt up to all sorts of insidious mischief. Finally Borroughs—the real Burroughs—just could not stand it anymore and took her out.
Charles Krafft, a solid Alt-Righter, had this to say on Burroughs as an agent on a Facebook thread I was involved in:
“I believe Burroughs was recruited into the OSS by William Donovan. His mother told biographers he was rejected, but I think that’s a cover story. He married a Greek Jewess in Yugoslavia at the end of the war ostensibly to facilitate her immigration to the USA. She may have been involved with him in some operation there. They divorced immediately upon his return. The cover story is that he went to Vienna to study medicine during WWII.”
Kraft also sees an MK Ultra connection, with Burroughs and Louis Marker, an ex-naval intelligence officer, going to the Amazon jungle to look for exotic drugs that could be used for the CIA’s mind control projects. All this is most interesting, even though it doesn’t exactly cohere with my thesis, but nevertheless it points to how deep one has to go with the Deep State.
So, there it is: the “Heart of Darkness” of Interzone. Can Burroughs be reinvented as a heroic figure prepared to sacrifice his own soul to expose the evil inside the centre of Western Civilisation? I believe a complex but correct reading of his work merits it, with perhaps a few caveats. The sad, mordant tone of his writing speaks to me of someone who paid the full price for the Naked Lunch.