"Naked Mr. America, burning frantic with self bone love, screams out: 'My asshole confounds the Louvre! I fart ambrosia and s*** pure gold turds! My cock spurts soft diamonds in the morning sunlight!'"

So you may be wondering where the social value is in the above quote from Naked Lunch. But let us try not to moralize too soon, Shmoopers. Part of what Burroughs is asking to do as we experience this novel is examine how language creates sensations for us.

Embarrassment, disgust, shock, and repulsion are a few of those acceptable sensations—so feel free to experience all of those when you reread this little passage. But then ask yourself: why do these obscene words make me feel this way?

(Have you ever even asked yourself that question before?)

While such saucy writing is relatively new to The Canon, the visual arts have been dealing with lewd content for some time. The surrealists painted into the darker side of the human psyche. Think about the works of Salvador Dali, for example.

The ideas of Sigmund Freud and the unconscious were running wild through Dali's work, as well as in many intellectual and artistic circles more generally. So, Burroughs can be thought of as a surrealist author. He wrote like Dali painted.

We wouldn't recommend reading Naked Lunch just before bed, however. You don't want to wake up all the deepest, scariest parts of your unconscious just before dreamy-time.

We're not exactly sure what kind of beauty contest Naked Mr. America would compete in. Um. But, what would such a figure stand for? This is an excerpt from a novel, so we're trying to think more symbolically here.

Well, first of all, the passage suggests that Naked Mr. America is quite egotistical. Far from having any body image issues, this dude is proud that the "lowest" parts of himself could confound one of the greatest collections of "high art" in the world. His taboo body parts even produce gold and gems.

We gather from this image that Burroughs is critiquing the fact that American men think so highly of themselves. Secondly, Burroughs seems to be pointing to the particular arrogance of American capitalism. Why would Mr. Naked America care so much about gold and gems, anyway?

Because money = power for him. Now, can somebody get Mr. Naked America a robe, please?

In the greater context of Naked Lunch, this passage is like a crazy flash mob routine that disrupts a peaceful patio brunch date. It erupts suddenly in the middle of a stretch of fairly straightforward narrative. It almost seems to have been kidnapped from some other novel.

So what's up with that? Well, Burroughs wants to remind the reader that literature is not real. Unlike the reality which it represents, literature is made up of language. And language doesn't have to move linearly, as time does.

While the reader is forced, in a way, to accept whatever a book tells him, the story is not actually happening. The cut-up technique highlights this fact by messing with sequences of events, and by generally making for some really wacky sentences.

On the whole, cutting-and-pasting words together creates a sense of chaos. And this is exactly what Burroughs wanted us to experience. The rouge paragraph we've presented you here is intended to shock the reader out of his comfort zone.

The message? All is not well in the world. Don't get comfortable.