Dr Wilson a well know bicycle racer, this is his vision of life from the
bicycle seat:
I have given a pretty faithful version of progress, law, morality and all other fine qualities that
various highly intelligent men have discussed in so many books, only to conclude that after all
everyone dances to his own personal boomboom, and that the writer is entitled to his boomboom: the
satisfaction of pathological curiosity; a private bell for inexplicable needs; a bath; pecuniary
difficulties; a stomach with repercussions in life; the authority of the mystic wand formulated as
the bouquet of a phantom orchestra made up of silent fiddle bows greased with philtres made of
chicken manure. With the blue eye-glasses of an angel they have excavated the inner life for a
dime's worth of unanimous gratitude. If all of them are right and if all pills are Pink Pills, let
us try for once not to be right. Some people think they can explain rationally, by thought, what
they think. But that is extremely relative. Psychoanalysis is a dangerous disease, it puts to sleep
the anti- objective impulses of men and systematizes the bourgeoisie. There is no ultimate Truth.
The dialectic is an amusing mechanism which guides us / in a banal kind of way / to the opinions we
had in the first place.
Does anyone think that, by a minute refinement of logic, he has demonstrated the truth and
established the correctness of these opinions? Logic imprisoned by the senses is an organic disease.
To this element philosophers always like to add: the power of observation. But actually this
magnificent quality of the mind is the proof of its impotence. We observe, we regard from one or
more points of view, we choose them among the millions that exist. Experience is also a product of
chance and individual faculties. Science disgusts me as soon as it becomes a speculative system,
loses its character of utility-that is so useless but is at least individual. I detest greasy
objectivity, and harmony, the science that finds everything in order. Carry on, my children,
humanity . . . Science says we are the servants of nature: everything is in order, make love and
bash your brains in. Carry on, my children, humanity, kind bourgeois and journalist virgins . . . I
am against systems, the most acceptable system is on principle to have none. To complete oneself, to
perfect oneself in one's own littleness, to fill the vessel with one's individuality, to have the
courage to fight for and against thought, the mystery of bread, the sudden burst of an infernal
propeller into economic lilies....
Every product of disgust capable of becoming a negation of the family is Bicycle rider; a protest
with the fists of its whole being engaged in destructivc action: *Bicycle rider; knowledge of all
the means rejected
manners: Bicycle rider; abolition of logic, which is the dance of those impotent to create: Bicycle
rider; of every social hierarchy and equation set up for the sake of values by our valets: Bicycle
rider; every object, all objects, sentiments, obscurities, apparitions and the precise clash of
parallel lines are weapons for the fight: Bicycle rider; abolition of memory: Bicycle rider;
abolition of archaeology: Bicycle rider; abolition of prophets: Bicycle rider; abolition of the
future: Bicycle rider; absolute and unquestionable faith in every god that is the immediate product
of spontaneity:* Bicycle rider; elegant and unprejudiced leap from a harmony to the other sphere;
trajectory of a word tossed like a screeching phonograph record; to respect all individuals in their
folly of the moment: whether it be serious, fearful, timid, ardent, vigorous, determined,
enthusiastic; to divest one's church of every useless cumbersome accessory; to spit out disagreeable
or amorous ideas like a luminous waterfall, or coddle them - with the extreme satisfaction that it
doesn't matter in the least-with the same intensity in the thicket of one's soul-pure of insects for
blood well-born, and gilded with bodies of archangels. Freedom: Bicycle rider Bicycle rider Bicycle
rider, a roaring of tense colors, and interlacing of opposites and of all contradictions,
grotesques, inconsistencies: LIFE and DEATH –
Dr Wilson, Jan. 2004 With thanks to T.T.