If the Cut-Up Trilogy was considered of limited interest to readers in the sixties & seventies, 'Minutes To Go' is flat-out obscure. An epistolary collection of ideas & poesy, Gysin's tone is preachy (and, to be honest, a bit of a turn-off), Gregory Corso comes off as reluctant & shrill (protesting the attack on his poetic sensibilities as if protesting physical abuse), Sinclair Beiles is unaccountably gleeful (a child with a new surgical instrument), and Burroughs has become nondescript & inscrutable (having receded into the character of a technician from a hidden star). One is inclined to expect some sort of revelation, but none is forthcoming. All is arch experiment. 'Minutes To Go' is an oddity for the absolutely obsessed. ( )