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Title: Robert Anton Wilson
Author: Peter Lamborn Wilson
Date: 2007
Language: en
Topics: obituary, Robert Anton Wilson, Fifth Estate
Source: Retrieved on 7th October 2021 from https://www.fifthestate.org/archive/375-spring-2007/robert-anton-wilson/
Notes: Published in Fifth Estate #375, Spring 2007.

Peter Lamborn Wilson

Robert Anton Wilson

For all we knew, Robert Anton Wilson and I were related. On an intuitive

basis–i.e., after several rounds of Jameson’s and Guinness–we decided we

were cousins. Subsequently we came to believe ourselves connected to the

Wilsons who play so murky a role in the “Montauk Mysteries” (Aleister

Crowley, UFOs and Nazis in Long Island, time travel experiments gone

awry, etc.). Our plan to co-edit a family anthology (including Colin, S.

Clay, and Anthony Burgess, whose real name was Wilson) never

materialized–although we did collaborate in editing Semiotext(e) SF,

together with Rudy Rucker.

There’s no doubt Bob was some sort of anarchist. His earliest interests

and experiences (the School of Living, for example) involved connections

with old-time American Philosophical or Individualist Anarchism of the

Spooner/Tucker variety, and, in fact, this shared background formed the

basis of our friendship.

When Bob was on the road a lot in the ’80s and ’90s doing “stand-up

philosophy” in cities across the US, he visited New York often and after

his lectures he drank with anarchists, libertarians and ceremonial

magicians–his fan base, as it were–although he used to say he could

never join the Libertarian Party because he couldn’t bring himself to

hate poor people enough. He called Libertarians, “Republicans who smoke

dope.”

Bob was a Futurist and I am a Luddite, but after a long series of

letters back and forth we agreed to disagree on the subject of

technology, since neither of us wanted to put ideology in the place of

camaraderie.

We got too much enjoyment out of our shared interests: the Propaganda

Due, Freemasonic Conspiracy, science fiction, “Irish Facts,” as Bob

called his favorite Celtic paradoxes and tall tales, occult and lost

history, pirates, strange science and Fortean phenomena, the Discordian

Church (co-founded with anarcho-taoist Kerry Thornley of the “Universal

Rent Strike,” rip.) — in which he appointed me Pope–because all

Discordians are Popes. (But Bob was The Pope–also his title in the

Church of the Sub-Genius.) Bob was one of the great pub talkers,

probably a lot like Brendan Behan or Dylan Thomas (he somewhat resembled

both of them physically).

Liquor and weed for him were bardic fuel.

I’m proud to say I appear–under several guises, alter egos and noms de

plume in one of Bob’s last books, Everything Is Under Control (1998), a

sort of encyclopedia of his favorite conspiracies. Unlike some of his

admirers, Bob never believed in any one conspiracy as more (or less)

real than another. He simply took a chaote’s delight in humanity’s

occasional talent for genuine mystery; and for him, Imagination was a

form of reality. Was he playing or was he serious? Exactly.

In later years, when he cut down on his grueling dada vaudeville

speaking tours and retired to California, we lost touch because Bob

decided to colonize the Internet and I decided not to. Our mutual friend

Eddie Nix kept us linked with warm greetings back and forth. Eddie sent

me print-outs of Bob’s most recent web-page, the Guns & Dope Party

(“because that way we have a majority”)–one of his best stunts or japes.

Founding a political party may not seem a doctrinaire anarchist sort of

thing to do, but Bob was first and deepest a post-Nietzchean homo

ludens, playful man, perpetrator of the lusus seriosus, the “serious

joke.” In his best writing, the Illuminatis! books (starting in 1975,

co-created with the late Bob Shea) for example, R.A.W. approached his

idol James Joyce in sheer ludic intensity, and his other idol Flann

O’Brien in number of laughs per page.

Certainly his works belong to the literature of anarchy, like say Alfred

Jarry’s or Oscar Wilde’s, if not to the literature of anarchism.

Despite a good deal of suffering in life (his childhood polio and the

long sickness of his wife Arlen; the murder of his daughter; and his

dying broke), Bob always appeared cheerful, which is either very good

advertising for Neuro-Linguistic Programming (a theory he developed with

Tim Leary, but which I never quite understood), or else for the

therapeutic virtues of cannabis. For instance, some years back a rumor

was spread maliciously on the Internet that Bob was dead. Instead of

getting annoyed, he had great fun doing the

Reports-of-my-death-have-been-greatly-exaggerated routine.

I see in R.A.W.’s Wikipedia obituary (sent to me by carrier pigeon from

Fifth Estate’s southern HDQ)–an otherwise lackluster text–that Bob was

equally amused the second and final time as well, telling his

correspondents, “Please pardon my levity, I don’t see how to take death

seriously. It seems absurd.”

He died five days later.

Tombeau for R.A.W.

Poem & pomology — false etymology or proto-Indo-European ha-ha? The

small-k kabbalist relishes a poemogranate from the garden in Grenada.

N.E. Vavilov (later denounced by Lysenko, dies in Gulag) discovers Eden

somewhere in Kazakhstan not far from the genetic epicenter of hemp. Noon

blue apples. The Discordian Pope throws out the first ball of the season

over the fence into the Hesperides or Tir na Nog the island of Irish

Facts. Turn down gents your jiggers of Jameson’s.

–P.L.W