October 19, 2003
Sunday Spinning
Visited a couple of my hiphop boys today. DGC
gonna blow up this year. A little fatigued after
a long night of drinking punctuated with great
discussion about Dostoyevsky, Camus, Nabokov and
literary theory. Conversations like that are the
reason to go on living and writing.
October 18, 2003
100 GIs and Running
The Americanos finally hit
triple digit casualties in their battle against
the rebels since Commandant Bush declared major
combat over. Not just 101 dead soldiers, but 101
soldiers dead from hostile fire. Not including
self inflicted gunshot wounds, though there's
about another ten of those. GIs keep offing themselves.
Something bout that place that bugs em.
Article in the LA
Times today mentioned that computers should
be as complex as the human brain by 2040. The
writer, Marshall Brain goes on to argue that this
will lead to further split between the poor (who
will be replaced as workers) and the rich (who
will have many cheap slaves to do their work).
Brain wants a communist utopia built on the backs
of these robots. Mingus disagrees and believe
we will all end up being their pets, if we're
lucky. Click here
to read the Daily Mingus so good it became a Weekly
Mingus. That's right!!! It's fucking great!
In other new, internet traffic remained about
the same over the last week since the mighty News
Release. Sigh. Not like unabashed failure is anything
new to Mingus Tourette. Bring it on!!!
October 17, 2003
Game Over
The girl forced extra innings, but in the end,
the closer came in, and it was all over. For the
Sox, and for Gramma. Gramma closed her eyes for
good right around the same time Rivera took the
mound and the old Bambino came back to put the
Sox to rest for another year.
We rolled back into E-Ville at around five in
the morning so me and Chloe could get a day of
work in before returning for Funeralis Part Two
on the weekend. Mingus drove. Mingus tired. Mingus
go work now. Not gonna be worth my chips today,
for sure.
October 16, 2003
Urban Cowboyz
Cowtown, one often thinks, has no soul. And often,
one confirms that quick and dirty. Lots of American
style crazies on the streets. There are some nice
people though, mostly writers and people that
love writers and I met some of them at the festival.
In other news, Gramma holds court, speaking softly
and with a fatigued voice. She's fading quickly.
October 15, 2003
The Bat Phone Ringeth
The call comes in around six this morning. Didn't
sleep much in any case. If we want to see Gramma
alive, we better get down to Cowtown today.
So I'm off to Cowtown. Should be back late tomorrow
night, but who knows with these kinds of things.
The only upside is there's a
literary festival going on down there with
a few writers I know. I now have a reason to spend
the money on gas to be in the right spot at the
right time if I'm not busy at the funeral home.
Fucking good times. And we're finally below zero
degrees out today. Bring it on, indeed.
October 14, 2003
Turkey Surprise
Three minutes before we get ready to leave for
the old folks' dinner, Chloe's mother phones from
Cowtown. Apparently, Chloe's Grandmother woke
up yesterday and decided she wasn't getting out
of bed again. So right now, they're rallying round
the old lady's bedside, trying to convince her
she should get dressed, when really, the only
dressing getting done in the next few days is
the skirt on the inside of her coffin. Good fucking
times.
Needless to say, dinner after that sort of news
was a rather depressing affair. Chloe broke into
tears when asked about if she came from a big
family. She also broke into tears when asked what
kind of actors she admired, and there were more
tears when asked what is was like to be a stage
actress in Canada. Lord knows, the old folks tried
to make conversation, but that girl shuts down
hard and tight when people start getting sick
and dying.
I was of course, pickled, and therefore of little
help to the conversation. My state of inebriation
did not go unnoticed and old Ma cut me off after
three whiskeys. Old Pa was kind enough to offer
me up an early coffee and slide in a double shot
of Bailey's for each of us, which got me through
the mashed potatoes, the turkey and the good old
Pumpkin pie.
After Chloe came out of the bathroom for the fourth
time, we decided it might be best to head home
and cut the losses as they stood. The old folks
wished her the best, and Chloe was able to get
us home without weeping any more. We closed the
door behind us, got undressed and went to bed.
She kissed my chest, put her head on my lap and
closed her eyes and didn't say anything else that
night.
Chloe in this state is soft and pliable, and for
lack of a better word, nice. Calm and understanding.
And the night turned out ok, because the old folks
were understanding. And I had a dozen shots. And
warm fuzzies were spread softly all around, and
people were polite to each other as they often
are when old ladies are somewhere dying.
And tonight
like the last
we'll be huddled up warm and waiting
for that early morning call
October 13, 2003
Giving Thanks for Something
Much like our American counterparts, Canadians
feel the need to visit our relatives one weekend
a year, slaughter an oversized bird and lie around
the fireplace like junkies in a tryptophan-induced
haze. Mingus is financially unable to say no to
any sort of free food, and therefore takes the
MoFuck Mobile out to the folk's house in the far
end of the city every year, stuffs his face, raids
the cellar, jams a couple of bottles of home-made
wine down his pants and wanders out into the autumn
night feeling somewhat whole.
Back when sweaty charles was around, he would
often come along, and even Marvin has invited
himself out for one of these Turkey Busters, just
to 'experience the culture'. Rich as it is. All
good times.
The only possible hitch this go around, is that
Chloe, dear Chloe, feels that she deserves to
meet the old folks after six months of hard fucking.
For those who remember the debacle that ensued
when
I met her folks in Cowtown, you will understand
that I am somewhat hesitant. However, I am in
no real position to tell her that she can't come,
as old Ma invited her along by leaving a very
loud and distinct message on my answering machine
while I had my tongue half way up Chloe's ass.
My plan to minimize collateral damage for the
evening is to make Chloe dress up and drive the
car. While she's tending to her make-up and worrying
the stickshift, I'll knock back half a dozen overproof
shots distilled by my new best friend,
Wray & Nephew. And then give thanks for
the one thing that never lets you down.
The moral is, if you think hard enough, everybody
got something to give thanks for. Hell, I got
to give thanks for the old folks, the boys, Chloe's
ass, a couple of people interested in publishing
Nunt and most of all, a girl named Colette that
I don't even know. Cause she's a reason to hope.
God bless us all and let us give thanks for everything.
Click For Previous Week's
Daily Mingii
|
October 13, 2003 - October 19, 2003