nyuuzyou/wikis huggingface dataset:
Lipton’s Journal/February 14, 1955/617

Reason, the logic on One, was born in man by his understanding of society, not from his understanding of himself. The animal reasons at the crude level of his environment which—until the psychological tester came along—never ran him (the rat) through the same one maze twice. 
Thus, man, the mystical entity learned reason from the irritation of the logical society—society’s innate tendency is to increase division of labor to the point where a man is run through the same One for every day of his life—that way, he like the rat will learn. But the learning is artificial. The rat’s knowledge of the specific maze develops an attribute in him which is almost totally useless outside of the maze because the rat has been put not gradually but instantly into an artificial (for the rat) environment. 
So, society, the foreign body, the earth-shore teaches water-life the secret of its level by the contour society reveals, or in this case shore-line of the water’s assault. Thus, social forms reveal not the nature in the sense of the desire of man, but reveal in their quality the reverse quality of man. The fascist state reveals not a desire for fascism in its subjects but the desire for the reverse. (I am talking of course about the of the subjects, not their ).
But, I have wandered from the original point. The irrational nature of society produced reason culminating in the French Revolution. And then the Russian Revolution. The rational nature of society has produced the mystical revolt, the return of the spiral to the “village” of modern man, the coterie.
Category:February 14, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 14, 1955/618

One thing to say about L-2 in general and especially today. I am less manic, less mystical, less enthusiastic, and more contemplative, more rational, more sad. On L I feel I know everything and everything is wonderful. L-1 is the day of great sensitivity. My entering faculties are very wide, constricted just enough to permit a little order in the general onrush. L-2 is the sad but productive return to society. Tomorrow, I’ll probably be depressed.
Category:February 14, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 2, 1955/430

The artist and his paranoia. As I’ve written before, paranoia sees the ultimate danger in the trivial circumstance. The sense of time (which is either the same or very close to the sense of proportion) is deficient. But this is why artists are always paranoid. To be ahead of one’s time, to see tendencies before others see them, is exactly the talent of the artist, and his insights are given by the racing terrified ultimate sense of paranoia.
Category:February 2, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 2, 1955/432

It is really incredible that analysts have played with concepts like the death-wish for so many decades now, and yet have done no large work I know of on what are probably the two greatest abstractions for the mass of humanity, Hell and Heaven. How much of human behavior is motivated by this, and yet on the environmental accident (or could it have been possible anywhere else?) of psychoanalysis being born in German-Jewish rational circles where Hell and Heaven were considered old-fashioned, the problem relatively has been ignored. One of the most profound and ineradicable human attitudes—“If I hate myself even more, if I think of myself as being even more despicable than my despicable action, then I do not necessarily go to Hell.” Why torture our understanding of life by trying to postulate a death-instinct. The explanation of self-destructive acts is right under our noses.
Category:February 2, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 2, 1955/433

Each of the Church’s dictums reveal the opposite reality, the opposite thrust. So the Church making suicide a mortal sin confessed that the tendency of its total perversion upon nature was to drive its believers to suicide. Given the psychology of despising oneself in order to avoid hell, the end of the road is the act of total loathing for the self—one’s own death. But the Church could hardly permit this—no institution can last very long if its members advertise it by destroying themselves.
Category:February 2, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 2, 1955/435

I’ve spent the last few hours re-reading the Journal and find it less exciting than I thought, and quite un-publishable in its present form (which had been at the back of my mind.) But there is a lot in it. I just have to develop it. One thing I notice is that the wild mystical plunge of the early pages simmers down after a while. I think the early pages merely express the great relief of being able to use words like God, soul, saint, genius, and so forth—at last I was going to allow myself to revel in the cliché. 
But I write this note totally off everything. Off Lipton’s—it’s three days now, off Seconal—two days. Feelings of sexual vigor are returning it, and with it more quiet confidence. One thing which bucked me up is that in going over The Deer Park I found that I could add sentences to it which had the nice literary style of the book. So, apparently, I’m not stylistically drained. What I felt as I was writing Deer Park lines this morning was the old feeling of fine tension, very strong versus very strong , so that the words seemed to come out like poetry to me.
I can probably generalize on the effects of Lipton’s and Seconal. Lipton’s releases of course—vast amounts of exciting material and trivial material with very little selection. It enables me to work at a tremendous rate, but everything is equally exciting to me. (Which is mystically, philosophically valid, but is almost impossible for a novelist to deal with—at least in my present stage.) That is, I could not write novels on it, although it might be good to turn to it when I got writing blocks. The Seconal is what is bad for it is beginning to give me bad letdowns and deep depressions. Except I know how to handle those too, now. If I can’t sleep, I must just sit up and read instead of trying to fight myself into sleep. Enough for today.
Category:February 2, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/621

Here we go again. A very good weekend, a very happy emotional exhausting and refreshing weekend, and what was good about it was that I allowed myself to go where I was carried instead of trying to force every single moment into what I thought it should be. 
Saturday night on Lipton’s with Dan and Rhoda, and of course Adele—I think of her these days as part of me, we are so close—we had a Lipton’s radio broadcast on the tape recorder, an hour of it, and while it’s garbled and boring to a stranger undoubtedly, I found it fascinating. There are mountains of material in it, tons of laughter, oceans of piss, thunder ranges of shit, lustility and hoffection, and in a way I learned more about Dan and Rhoda in one night than I’ve learned about them in years. 
Interestingly enough, as a psychoanalytical session I believe it was truly valuable—elements of psychodrama, test situations, orgiastic connotations, working out of latent homosexuality—at one point I squeezed Dan’s cock and taunted him to do the same to me—to my amazement, he did—which for Dan is an explosion. Anyway, I’m going to try to get a transcript of the hour. We acted out people we know, we sang (even me), we quarreled and bickered, we agreed—it was really incredible from the inside although to an analyst it might seem no more than release of tension.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/624

The reason I believe in these things is that they work. By expressing my paranoia in Lipton’s, I am less paranoid the next day, or by L-2. (Incidentally, my depression has not come on yet, and I believe that too may begin to diminish as I realize these things.) And when I am less paranoid, I am less anxious. I feel relaxed strength, the capacity to deal with more people than I ever have before. 
A curious confirmation of this came up today. The elevator man is a sly secretive ferreting sort of fellow, very tight-mouthed, very perceptive, but yet not a bastard considering all these things in him. For the last month through jokes, vague evocative remarks, and a certain psychic “recognition” between us, we’ve been getting closer, more respectful of one another without words being said. 
A few weeks ago, grinning, I said to him, “You know you ought to work for the secret service as a code breaker.” (Service. Society—er—in the service of—vice.) He looked at me and said, “Why do you say that?” “Who are you kidding?” I asked him. “You know you could break any code.” He clammed up. Today, he showed me a paper, and said, “You know, I don’t show this to anybody.” His picture was on the front page. He had won third place in the Herald Tribune Tangle contest (one of those word-puzzle contests). Two thousand bucks he won. I clapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him warmly. Part of my joy was in my intuition, the other part was in this poor aging elevator man with his sharp ferret mind, who by God had used it.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/625

Saw Mutiny on the Bounty and some Keystone Chaplin films last night. What a genius Chaplin is. How he expresses all the body frustrations of sexual repression. He wipes his nose on a rag, wipes the rag on a dish, hands the dish to a whore in a dirty restaurant. He hitches his ass, he “rolls” his eyes, he strikes and is struck, and always, sex, sex, sex. We laugh in roars and waves (roar, orar, horror, aura). And the captions which I may include later are incredible. In one skit, standing before his wife who dominates him completely, he grins sheepishly struts and says, “Every day I get better and better, but every night I get worse.”
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/626

And Laughton. What an incredible sense of the homosexual sadist, the sex-repressing officer. Mutiny on the Bounty is the source of The Caine Mutiny, but with what a dramatic difference. For Fletcher Christian is the man who goes native, while Bligh, totally sadistic before sexual expression (the most minor infraction of discipline), is also the great leading mother-figure once he gets in the boat with the men (orphans, sex-denyers, that is sex deniers) who have elected to come with him. Now he knows sex will not be in the air, and so he can be a great seaman. (Semen.)
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/627

Over and over I come to discover that words which are spelled differently but mean the same thing, are indeed the same words. Words which sound alike are sibling in meaning. Elect which is eee-lect. Also delectable—lect and licked. The sex denyer can stand great hardships—it is what he has denied sex for. The sex-expresser—at least in society—is capable of brilliance, insight, and warm intensity.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/628

, x , , and the are the qualities, the variables which allow for the enormous variety of character, and make generalization so difficult. In a generalization we say that if x is true, so then is y. But man is at least a function of (w, x, y, z). And that is what makes psychoanalysis so difficult. To understand what is going on in a patient, one must sense the four variables. (Variable, the v of air iable.)
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/629

Back to Laughton. He might do a great Naked for Naked like Mutiny on the Bounty expresses the -men and the -men. Those who are naked and those who are dead. Only I was so social when I wrote it that I had the arrogance to say, The fanatics are naked, and the dead don’t care. Which is a kind of proof of the mystery of perception. Someone years ago might have read my book, and thought Mailer means the men who are alive and therefore naked, and those who are dead, authoritarian, etc. How disappointed in his perception he might have been, that fellow, if he read the interview where I said the second. But now he’s right. Little does he know it.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/630

A few word echoes:
::Negro. Knee-grow (Child, grow!)
::Nigra. Ni as deny; gra God’s rah. As in rajah.
::Nigger. Deny God, but still it’s god’s er.
::Ferret. The fuck of er enraged into a thing. To ferret is to devote one’s life energies to uncovering a tiny buried thing.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/631

My sore throat. After the installment of the journal last week, I came down with one of my terrible sore throats. For one day I stayed in bed, for another I took antibiotics. No effect. Then I decided it was psychosomatic and, more than that, valid. That is, I wished to have it, the had given it to me in order to freeze a certain process. Well, one cannot force a process. So I accepted it, I ignored it, I made love with it which means among other things that I put my mouth wherever I wished—hang the germs!—and I got a little better. 
And then Saturday night I asked Rhoda about it for she had gone to a Reichian, and Rhoda said I should scream. So I practiced screaming into a pillow (very hard for me—I always have enormous tension in the throat), which is why savages rarely kiss and civilized people do. The relocates in the mouth, the ass, the breasts, the hips, everywhere. (Savages particularly in Tahiti, which is very mild suppishly, undoubtedly get their sex much more directly from their genitals).
Then we had Tea-Time, the radio program. Then later Adele and I made love. I woke up with four hours of sleep and my throat practically all better. Today it is just a tiny bit sore, but I don’t mind it. I realized that I got my sore throats four times in the last few years, each before taking a big step forward. After the first I conceived The Deer Park, after the second Adele and I began to live in the same cold-water flat, after the third we lived together as nominal husband and wife in Mexico, that wild er country, and the fourth was last summer when we went to Mexico and were effectively beginning our real legal marriage. 
So I have hopes for this sore throat. The longer is lasts, the more may come of it. I am rather tempted to go to a Reichian for a little while, especially since there is no verbal psychoanalysis which would merely get me into an all-out war with the analyst.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/632

I have an enormously tense body comparatively. Which is why I ideate so much when tension is released. I would not be at all surprised if muscular tension is related to frozen thought, and as we release tension so we get ideas. For the idea is the mental act, just as physical motion is the relaxing of the tensed muscle. (There is a great deal in this I feel.)
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/633

Cigarette smoking. I have a hunch (premature warping) (Lunch is the loving hunch—the social partition of the generalized desire to eat.) I have a hunch that smoking cigarettes is an expression of suppressed homosexuality (by which I always mean suppressed passivity, an enforced giving inflicted upon a readiness to take—among homosexuals the active homosexual uses that as his defense against the female principle which is to take; being understood of course that male and female are merely facts, frozen hypotheses, envelopes concealing mysteries. Before male and female there is merely give-and-take in the most primitive “sexless” forms of life). 
Among women who smoke, the same is true. Generally career women smoke more than happy housewives. The reason: they are fighting their desire to take, to be passive. Just as liquor drinkers are fighting their impulse to take. Nothing so characterizes the drunk as that he hears only what he wishes to hear and gives gives gives in long rambling talk upon that subject.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/635

A shit-eating grin. To eat shit is to express power. (The double idea. By undergoing degradation in private one may express power in public provided one isn’t overcome by guilt in which case one is crushed or becomes sadistic.) A shit-eating grin is the grin of a man who has gotten away with it, who is wielding power without having had to eat the shit. 
As viz Bob Lindner in the car when he knew he had Adele and me under his thumb. So he had a shit-eating grin. But indeed as we all knew I had made him eat shit half an hour before and he was entitled now to redress the balance. Which is why, scared as I was, I didn’t dislike him but instead liked him enormously at the moment. Not because he was making me grovel (or was it just that—safe groveling?) Yes, it was. I wrote a * which to me is the puckering of pussy lips. He was making me a pussy at that moment. But, also, I like him because he could come back, he wasn’t a pushover.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/636

Before I go to lunch, one further note. Handkerchiefs, snot, and semen. I realize that for years I have unconsciously identified the two. When I was an adolescent I used to masturbate into a handkerchief, a piece of toilet paper, or occasionally a Kleenex or a towel. Once or twice into the bathtub. And for years I carried around filthy snot rags—they were the years when I was always compromise-one-dressed. Baggy shapeless tweeds, loud clashing but dirty colors. Today I wear workmen’s clothes when I feel like it, or I get dressed up neat as hell because I feel that way. But I’m sick of walking around like a schlumper, an apologetic lump. Fuck it if people don’t like me, think I’m a dude. These days, more and more, I feel like I’m terrific, and about time. 
Anyway, today when I didn’t want to spit in my handkerchief it’s because I realized I think that semen is not snot, and thinking phlegm as semen, feeling it as such, I wish to dignify it by casting it away into the air instead of burying it in my pocket. (This whole thing is weird. A pocket is a cunt—do I really think cunts are dirty smelly things. Gawd. Which reminds me that the pair of slacks I bought in the fag store have one pocket within the other, a practical arrangement, but I wondered why. Now I know. It’s like two balls side by side). Anyway, I feel that the desire to hold my semen was good. I meant to write phlegm. It’s true though. I do prefer to hold my semen which is why I make love for over an hour so often.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/637

Hatred is the defense against taking what is valid for oneself in the enemy. Which is why liblabs loathe McCarthy. The one valid thing he has to offer, a disrespect for the over-elaborated forms of reason, and an animal desire to get to the heart of the mystery which endangers one, is perhaps the thing which most highly socialized liberals and radicals are terrified of in him.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/638

Semen. How it appears everywhere. It appears in cement, Semitic—one reason for anti-Semites, and how the DAR is anti-semenitic. In cement, nations cement relations. The t of semen, semen which is life is made into a thing, a bind. Hence the impossibility of the political pact. How can one cement two nations? One can only semenize them. As indeed one simonizes one’s car.
Women and their creams. A woman who loves sex and loves her man always gets joy out of rubbing his semen onto her. Women who frustrate this natural desire rub cream into their faces all the time—they think it will prevent them from getting wrinkles. But wrinkles come from sex denial, relative sex denial. No matter how hot or advanced sexually a man or woman is, they can always go further. It is the refusal to shift sexual gears to the orgy and back to home and family incestuously which causes the blockages. The wrinkles. The needs for cream.
Argot:	I’ll cream him. (I’ll make him my slave, I’ll demolish him, I’ll rub my semen into him). 
:“Milk the laughs,” says the actor. Get all the semen which is going into laughter out of them.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/639

Milk. Another semen-substitute. Which is why adults usually don’t take to milk unless they accept the semen desire or unless they have such total they hardly feel the anxiety. But men are very ticklish about drinking milk. Hence the deep roar of laughter in an audience when a man in a tough bar asks for milk. In life, the one or two times I’ve asked for milk, the bartender gave it to me without a word. Bartenders do get sensitive to the ways in which men seek substitutes for one kind of advanced sex or another.
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/643

Psychoanalyzing names. I do believe that a large part of a man’s psyche forms around his name as an armature, and that people respond to his name, first name personally, last name socially, respectively and responses. For example: Dwight D. Ike Eisenhower. I’s in our. I’s in hour. I’s in power. Which would account for the affection so many people have for him. The Dwight D. and the Ike I don’t feel yet.
Also Churchill—the church on the hill. How English. Nature and authority combined.
Truman: Honest Harry True Man.
Nixon: Nix on dirty old Communist sex. Richard the dick.
Adlai Stevenson. Adlai—the addled lay.
Stalin—the Russian for Steel.
Adele Morales. A dell, a death-hell. Morales: More or less? Morals? And indeed it was the enigma of whether Adele was morally good or morally bad which rendered her so fascinating to the moralist in me. For Adele, Morales also means More a Les(bian). Which of course is not true of her. She is deeply bisexual. Dikes are unisexuals. 
Category:February 21, 1955
Lipton’s Journal/February 21, 1955/644

Homosexuality. I would guess that the bisexual homosexual is relatively easy to turn “straight.” The camp among men and the hysteric lesbian among women have a capacity to vary, given their bisexuality. But the unisexual homosexual, the cuff-shooting Lesbian, and the “pure” homosexual have a state of balance already. The woman is a man in woman’s envelope. The man is a woman in man’s envelope—Toby for instance. 
So, in their own socially tortured way, they do have a legitimate er balance, for the demands that one express the male and the female principle in oneself. Of all male homosexuals I would guess that the active unisexual is the most difficult to alter. Gore Vidal for example. The kind of homosexual who likes to prong others. For such a homosexual like the dike has set up a Chinese wall against the waters of wombivity. Their active “male” giving is the defense against an intolerable taking.
And as I wrote in the last installment, a “habit” is overcompensated because the has decided not to allow that exhausting conflict to be active, but instead will deal with the disadvantages in another way. So the active homosexual has a deep enormous dread of becoming a passive homosexual. Yet because he sees women as bigger givers than himself, women are closed off too. Same with dikes. They despise womanly Lesbians, they hate men because they believe men are bigger givers than themselves.
Category:February 21, 1955