Read e-book online Be Not Content: A Subterranean Journal PDF

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By William J. Craddock, Rudy Rucker

Be now not content material is a coming-of-age novel set in San Jose, California, within the mid 1960s—describing William Craddock’s studies as a tender acidhead. this can be a hip, profound, and wonderfully-written ebook, a different chronicle of the earliest days of the nice psychedelic upheaval. Be no longer content material is stuffed with heat and empathy, tragic from time to time, and extremely humorous in spots, a wastrel masterpiece the place laughter performs counterpoint opposed to the oboes of doom. a paranormal underground masterpiece that’s been almost unobtainable for years. introduced again to existence by way of Transreal Books through an contract with Craddock’s property.

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Abel kicked the sweat-wet sheet off his body and placed his ear against the wall, listening to the buzzing quiet. It was hot. Not just hot, but summer-city-hot. Sticky, motionless, heavy air hung like oil smoke. Abel pushed through it and stood up. In the closet-kitchen, a fly, who had breakfasted on toothpaste and urine, lit on the stale remains of a powdered-sugar doughnut and signaled for a circling companion to join him. With micro-vibration conversation concerning the merits of sugar over urine, the flies ate, watching the multi-image shadow move in the other room.

That hog wasn’t just my only real possession, my machine and my transportation, it was my faithful mount, my companion, my freedom. It was my bike. It took me anywhere I wanted to go as fast as I wanted to go. Straddling it, I was fifty-five horses powerful in complete command of the situation. My first teenage carburetor-speed-sparkplug love affair, and I had it bad. The summer before my senior year at high school, I met three members of the Oakland chapter of the Hell’s Angels. My bike had thrown its chain in heavy downtown traffic, and I was fumbling to get it back on the sprocket, sweating, swearing, covered with grease and frustration, while horns screamed in hot anger and businessmen leaned out their car windows, yelling at me, telling me to move it!

CHAPTER ONE—THE DESERT OF PARAN I didn’t feel much like riding all the way back from Oakland to San Jose on wet streets just to beat on some punk and maybe get myself shot at or busted. But Indian was not only a brother, he was my president, and I was wearing the one-percenter patch, which meant I was tight-bound to the rules, and a Night Rider bike had been burned by a citizen, and Indian’d said go, so I stomped out of the party, following The Prez, Philco, Bob and Quack Jack, started my hog and swung onto the freeway, hauling ass to keep up.

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Be Not Content: A Subterranean Journal by William J. Craddock, Rudy Rucker

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