October 05, 2003
A New Bud Commercial
Today's Math:
1,200 weapons inspectors
90 days in Iraq
$300m
Number of weapons found?
Zero.
Yet somehow Bush
has the nuts to say that big David Kay CIA
report on how things are going in the hunt for
WMD justifies the war in iraq. More...
My mind strains to find a metaphor for this kind
of lie. Bush is distorting the facts with the
type of blatant ignorance that is usually reserved
for Dictators of small, impoverished nations with
one AK-47 for every 8-year old. Hmmm.
The last I heard, Texas had four guns for every
man, woman and child in the state.
What is very sad is that this week, Canada took
its first casualties in the peacekeeping mission
in Afghanistan. Two men dead trying to police
a region that the States razed and left to chaos
in its hurry to finish George Bush I's war on
Iraq. Sort of seems like the Canucks are going
to get ass-pumped cleaning up the nightmare of
feuding tribes, Opium warlords and Taliban regime
holdouts. No wonder Kofi Annan and the UN are
in no hurry to join in on the State's second dilettante's
ball.
Hey
George, this Bud's for you.
In other news, Extreme sloth from Quotidian
Doom linked to me after finding nunt.com confusing.
Thanks go to him, in part, for examining the necessity
of redesign.
And in other news, I can't stop thinking about
this writer chick. I have the classic fear of
sending an email too soon. And the classic fear
of what Chloe would do if she found out. But fucking
whatever, right? She's still seeing that accountant
off and on. In any case, it will be good research
for my new project starring the unrepentant polygamist,
Enoch Lucius. There's something incredibly desirable
about women that write. I fucking lust after them.
And, I am thinking of changing my tag from Writer,
extrovert, personal assassin to something like:
Mingus Tourette: Writer, Madman, Unrepentant Polygamist
Athiest on his Way to Hell.
What do you think of the new tag?
Say it in the guestbook.
October 04, 2003
News Today: Mingus Hurts Self in Drunk
Founda bottle
of rum this week that i hadnt seen for almst
two yeras and was sofuckinng haoppy that i almost
cried when i fuond it and so last night me and
K got into iiiitt like a fucking Rolls Royce and
today I am in suchb ad shape that it is fice oclock
and i can still beraly contemplate showering.
I need to shit.
The one up is that somewhere bwteen the golapost
and the bottle I met me a girl on the street near
the strat who said she was w writer. She might
be liing, but withwhat bullshit Chloe feed me
bnout whatever, this seems lkie pretty good material.
Somehow i impresed her enough with various lies
about writing thst she gave be her email. Something
looks up. Yes.
Excuise me, but I've got to throw up now.
October 02, 2003
News Today: Bush Writes for Mingus
Found
this site today with a list of some of George's
worst quotes and felt that nothing I could write
would be as entertaining.
It forces me ask - who the fuck could conscientiously
vote for a man who could not string together a
proper sentence. I mean, really. George makes
Dan Quayle look like a fucking Pulitzer prize
winning genius.
Attention, all Americans: if you vote for this
guy again, you are a fucking idiot. Read on for
pure, unadulterated Bushian verbal bullshit: all
true.
"I glance at the headlines just to kind of
get a flavor for what's moving. I rarely read
the stories, and get briefed by people who are
probably read the news themselves."—Washington,
D.C., Sept. 21, 2003
"We had a good Cabinet meeting, talked about
a lot of issues. Secretary of State and Defense
brought us up to date about our desires to spread
freedom and peace around the world."—Washington,
D.C., Aug. 1, 2003
"Security is the essential roadblock to
achieving the road map to peace."—Washington,
D.C., July 25, 2003
"I'm also not very analytical. You know I
don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself,
about why I do things."—Aboard Air
Force One, June 4, 2003
"The war on terror involves Saddam Hussein
because of the nature of Saddam Hussein, the history
of Saddam Hussein, and his willingness to terrorize
himself."—Grand Rapids, Mich., Jan.
29, 2003
"I'm plowed of the leadership of Chuck Grassley
and Greg Ganske and Jim Leach."—Davenport,
Iowa, Sept. 16, 2002
Too bad Arnold's not an American. In the meantime,
go Wesley Clark.
October 01, 2003
Generation Exile
I was watching an interview with Douglas Coupland,
the Canuck maFuck who branded myself and cohorts
with the Generation X moniker for the rest of
our collective lives. I've heard previous interviews
with him, and he sounds like a very thoughtful,
intelligent fellow with his finger on our cultural
pulse, and in this interview he had lots of good
insights to the Columbine shooting and other shootings,
as he had examined them in great depth in his
new book, Hey
Nostradamus.
But the thing is, the interviewer asked him something
about God, if he did exist, and why He would allow
such pain and suffering and tragedy to exist.
And Coupland gave some answer that I missed because
I was still reeling a bit from his admission that
started with 'I believe in God'.
Sort of took the wind out of my sales. Moreso
than his admission that he had smoked weed exactly
four times. I sort of drifted off during the rest
of the interview, because I've come to face the
fact that:
I can't really take anybody seriously who believes
in God.
Not to be a fucking asshole, or to piss directly
in anyone's face and all respect to people who
want to believe in God, because hey, it sure is
a nicer way to live, BUT it is always stunning
to me to meet those people who are so smart and
rational and bright and intelligent and level
minded EXCEPT when it comes to "What the
Fuck Happens When I Die?" I have a hard time
wondering how such bright people can live with
a paradigm that includes blind faith in something
as non-rational as the existence of an all-powerful,
invisible force that just likes to let young children
be murdered by other young children armed with
automatic weapons. So as much sense as Coupland
makes, I don't know if I can really take him seriously
knowing that everything he says comes from a perspective
grounded in fantasy. Like kids who really believe
that Santa is coming down the chimney.
Course, I'm crazy and bound for hell and I'm starting
to froth a bit when people mention good and evil,
let alone god, so don't listen to me. Just keep
on kneeling.
September 29, 2003
Mingus and a Touch of the Bizarre
See, the other day, Johnny Cash finally crossed
the bar, and I was sad and drunk and looking for
the video Hurt
and I watched it and wept (take the challenge,
big man, but don't do it in the office with women
around - you will weep) and I typed a message
in to the director Mark Romanek's contact page.
Romanek, for those who don't know, has directed
music videos for Madonna, Michael Jackson, Nine
Inch Nails, Linkin Park and the Chili Peppers.
To name a few. And One Hour Photo. The movie.
So his rolodex is thicker than mine, but I was
drunk, which puts me on even footing with every
man, and I said:
Thank you for your video.
It made us both cry. (old Chloe watched it with
me)
And it made johnny cash look exactly as he should.
In black. And dying. And fearless.
Now, I've done this before - typed in drunken
ramblings to famous people's web pages - most
notably Sean Penn's site when he wrote his anti-war
diatribe in the NY Times. It's not like one expects
a response, but I thought Mr. Romanek might want
to hear my thoughts, cause they were loud and
drunk and honest. Or at least I was.
The funny thing was, he read it, and replied.
And thanked me for it. Or at least, somebody from
his site did. And I, emboldened, sent him a link
to my own Weekly Mingus
tribute to Johnny Cash, which I had written
a couple of days before; again, in a somewhat
emotional, sauce laden state. Didn't think much
of it, but a few days later, Mark Romanek wrote
me back and thanked me for the tribute. To be
accurate, he said:
Dear M,
That's a Helluva tribute...thanks. I'll pass this
along to Rick Rubin.
Much appreciated.
Mark
And that's pretty fucking cool. The web - it's
not just porn, its a mass grieving station for
all those that might actually give a fuck when
someone dies. And a nice place to say thanks,
you made a good epitaph and I wept and it feels
better and life goes on now, without the man in
black. So when I go out in a hail of bullets or
under a wall of gin bottles, you can all read
Sweaty Charles' tribute to me right here. And
weep. And feel better. And carry on. No matter
how famous Sweaty Charles is. Or is not.
Peace.
And props to Romanek for reading his own email.
Everyone go to his site now
and marvel.
Click For Previous Week's
Daily Mingii
|
September
29 - October 05, 2003 
