I did this quick Photoshop sketch some time ago, of an imaginary Moroccan palace. It seems appropriate to post it now since I am currently reading a famous work of modern American literature, NAKED LUNCH by William Burroughs. A fair amount of its action takes place in Morocco, where Burroughs lived for years, drugging and playing with innumerable catamites (look it up) and somehow managing to do a lot of writing. He really is a fine writer, although not in a Harvard Classics sort of way. Proper Bostonians still find him obscene, gross, and unreadable. He's also quite funny, in a dark sick brutal kind of humor. He avoids pathos or sadness or sympathy by making all of his characters emotionless and loathsome. As for the heroin and the rest of it, I thank William Burroughs for being a junkie (and writing about it) so that I don't ever have to.