The Other Press Presents:
Weekly Swine Flu Press Release Written by a Very famous fhuthor Lndecd

     

Jack Kerouac

irst time I saw a sick pig was in
Delaware in 1942 and that pig was
squealing and squawking and running

wild around the farm— while Dean and I
shared moonshine, howling madly at the

pig and the moon. The swine’s madness
was my madness and Dean, crazy Dean,
was the maddest of all. The moon watched
us—fucking moon is always watching no
matter where I go or how fast I drive, drive,
drive, like an electric current exists between
me and the road—I am the road and the
road is me and Dean—I’m watching him
now as he pulls hard on a smoke and nips
at the moon—somehow, is all of us. But
what about that pig and what does all this

madness mean?

Sick pigs are streaming upon us now
and I say that you, me, your mothers, your
fathers, all the sisters and the brothers, we
gotta get going on out of here and we gotta
do it now—on motorcycles and bicycles
and blimps and balloons and trucks and
trains and automobiles—we gotta mobilize
our escape and when we do—time’s

a-tickin’ —there won’t be time to look back.

Dean’ll tell ya. The pigs are coming, pigs

coated in a disease worse than the plague
of growing up in America’s textile belt, in
Lowell. My home. Swine flu is worse than
my home—worse than all the shit of having
FreUnited States, worse than the stench of
the textile factory, its constant outpouring
of the blackest filth, worse than growing
up hopeless and worse still than dying
hopeless. It’s the death of the American
Dream and I don’t want any part of it.
With files from David Carson

 

Continued on Page 25....

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Renaissance man’s well-rounded skills and knowledge fail against Neolithic man’s fist

 

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Magazine cover model Tom Brady apparently plays football on the side

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