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January 5 - January 11, 2004
January 9, 2004
The Laurel Grows
It Withers Quicker than the Rose
One might wish for raging sessions of rum-induced paranoia after such a flushing victory, but alas, Mingus was sober and violating text till five AM yesterday, staring at the ruins of his old marriage, squeezing it down, precipitating it into sixty-odd crystalline Nuntos in this ruinous gamble.

There are times, I will admit, that I need a few fucking drinks to get through a tenth or fifteenth version of some piece of writing. At that point, it can be difficult to think the material through again, or to force one's self back to that emotional core. And I would like a few drinks here, Christ, would I ever, but I can't afford to lose any clarity.

Cause after seeing Nat in the bookstore, I'm seeing her throughout the night, her eyes burning back at me from the pages, sitting in front of me as I write. And with that, I can almost remember the way she would look without blinking, the way I would touch her face, and the way she closed her eyes. And the heat that came off of her lips. And how that was just the most beautiful fucking thing ever.

Up late again tonight, thinking of the way she tasted. Dreaming of the way she tasted. Imagining how she'd taste again.

Go to bed, Mingus

January 8, 2004
It's Official, The Daily Mingus Crowned King of All Losers
After all the excitement of waiting for the results of the Asia Weblog Awards 2003: Best Foreign (non Asian) blog, we have arrived at a rather unique and historic moment. Although fans of the Daily Mingus voted fast and hard and voted for this blog a stunning 35 times, placing us directly behind shithappens in voting, the results of the contest were finalized as:

The winners are:

coolios - 349 votes - 58 votes
shithappens - 54 votes

These results were followed by a message congratulating the seventy-four nominees and a sympathy list of the seventy-one sorry losers. There is no mention of Fourth Place, because if there were, it would be easy to call that site The First Loser. According to the last tally before voting ceased, that honour would have been reserved for:

The Daily Mingus - 35 votes

That is correct. I am proud to announce that the Daily Mingus has unofficially captured Fourth Place in the mighty Asia Weblog Awards 2003: Best Foreign (non Asian) blog contest and the right to call itself the King of All Losers.

Or, if one prefers, you may now refer to The Daily Mingus as: the Loser's Champion, the Prince of Lemons, First Among the Defeated, The AllStar Washout, the Canadian Junior Hockey Team, Numero Quattro, the Big Disappointment, Finished Just Out of the Medals, The Master of Failure, Your Favourite Mistake, Number Four in Our Hearts, The Shame of Bristol, or, my personal favourite, and what I should like to be called from now on:

The Emperor of the Lost.

This is truly a new high in my capacity for spectacular failure, and has inspired me to reach yet greater heights. And I have you all to thank for it. I asked you to help me avoid coming in 'Dead Fucking Last', and you have answered the call. You have heaped these garlands upon me, you have chaired this lad through the streets, you have christened me thus, and I stand proudly now, head held high and saluting the world for all of you, for all of us, the vanquished, the unloved, the crushed, the downtrodden, the displaced, the refugees, the lost.

Thank you. Thank you, and God Bless us Everyone.
January 7, 2004
Viva King Schlong
It looks like I am the first one in the world to name the 49 foot Indonesian python King Schlong. Check it. Number one. I have never been prouder. Except maybe the moment when I thought that a 'nun's cunt' could indeed be contracted into the much more concise 'nunt'. Two great additions to this world. This must be what fathers feel like.

In other news, the United States started fingerprinting and photographing foreign arrivals at airports & seaports. Read the article here. I haven't read much coverage of this exciting new development, but it is good to know that Big Brother is watching, and watching closely!

Hey, whattaya say we google bomb the shit out of the Orwellian Secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge, with the aforementioned Big Brother tag? I mean, in 1984, Big Brother was the supreme ruler, which is supposedly the Miserable Failure, but is likely the Halliburton Rep or old Rummy. But of course, they're way to busy busting balls in Iraq and getting ready for the big election in November to actually be watching the comrades. That's what Big Brother is for! Cause Big Brother is always watching!

Hold the phone, it seems Big Brother is already well represented as a Google commodity. We're going to need something smarter than that. How about:

Minister of Enforced Happiness
Big Fingerprinter
Minister of Decreasing Liberties

Bring on the suggestions, fellow blog nerds and let the google bombing begin! This must be how George felt before the war - anxious and hard and ready to watch some explosions!

Or what about Assblasting Assassin? Oh wait, that's taken.

Man, google is so much fun! Earlier this week, somebody visited this fine educational site looking for the 2004 guestbook of a day care centre. Hope you found what you're looking for! We don't take care of small children, but bring your daughter by once she's street legal and we'll take great care of her! And if we happen to be overbooked, I know Terrible John's got a big heart and a romper room full of great toys and some soothing music and a soft and tender touch!
January 6, 2004
Due Diligence
I'm starting to freak the fuck out. The final text for Nunt is due to be delivered to the book designer on January 17th. I've been through it hundreds of times, but I continue to find stories that need to be told in order for the whole thing to make sense. I spent most of the weekend working and reworking two of the longer Nuntos until I thought I was satisfied with them.

I read them again today, and I was not happy. It will be a long evening.

So please fucking humour me if I hassle you to reread a poem you've already read eight times, and do so quickly. You might get a free copy of the book. But I wouldn't fucking count on it. Maybe a shot of green fairy for the truly dedicated. And if I hassle anyone to look at Gander's foreword, please submit. I'm hoping it doesn't suck cock, because it's too late to fire him.

Since Saturday, Chloe has left me to my own devices. I remember barking at her in a moment of lesser glory. I have no time to read her lines back to her or feign interest as she tries on different clothes for her minor role in some new play which will certainly blow. I will still have to attend the opening night, of course, or risk being shown up by her cocksucking accountant. If she invites me, that is.

In retrospect, I was a little abrupt that night. After the fourth time she asked what I thought of her pants, I turned and said "Who fucking cares what you're wearing. You only have three lines."

She was unpleased with my response.

Last night, I didn't sleep until four in the morning. I had to leave the fucking house every three hours to start my car. If I didn't, it sure as hell wouldn't have started today. -38 deg. Celsius with the windchill, is what I've heard. For our tens of thousands of American readers; multiply by nine, divide by five, add thirty-two and you get: -36.4 degrees Fahrenheit.

Canada: a nice place to visit, but sure as fuck not in January™.

The bed was cold last night, and I thought about Colette as I shivered. And it is late again and the house is cold again, and I'm still thinking about her. Need some fucking heat in this life.

The screen bleeds white at this hour.

January 5, 2004
Properly Measured Response

Reaction to the Resolutions for the Year of the Mingus continue to roll in at an astounding rate. Many fans were concerned that I would drink less, smoke less and masturbate less, thereby depriving them of a vicariously unhealthy lifestyle. Don't worry! I plan to break at least a few of these resolutions as soon as possible. And maybe get into hard drugs! How can writers be rock stars without the smack? Other readers were concerned about softening the Mingus ego by examing the various complexes, but I must say, that runs counterintuitive to my proclamation of the year of Mingus. Don't worry. It's all Ayn Rand style from here on out!

In keeping with the various proclamations, I would also like to announce that the links page and a few others will change over the next bit. If you believe you should be receiving props and feel sleighted that you are not, please let me know. I have been following through on Resolution #11, and my memory is not all that it should be at this point. Chances are I will consider your plea and promptly forget about it, but let me know! I may come down at some point.

In the most important news of the year so far, I would also like to announce that a 49 foot reticulated python has finally been put on display in Indonesia. The importance of this cannot be understated. The largest snake on record until this point was only 32 feet long. This new snake, which I have dubbed KING SCHLONG, crushes so much snake record ass that it is fundamentally unbelievable. What a great start to the Year of Mingus!

And in other news, the Bearded Wonder's father was arrested for spitting blood on Florida police officers and was tasered into submission. Go Canadian Rock Stars, Go!!! The Bearded Wonder was unavailable for comment at post time.

January 2, 2004
Resolutions for The Year of Mingus

1. I resolve that 2004 will be The Year of Mingus. It has to be. If it ain't, I'll be living in a box behind Dick Castrati's van about the same time next year.

2 . I resolve to take the one and only shot that I'll ever be able to afford in terms of time and money at making a living as a writer. That means becoming a published poet and that means selling Nunt like a crackwhore sells crack. It means a lot o work and it means the possibility of making a fool of myself on a national level, but I see no other way to fulfil this dream. For more on my obsession of the year, check the mission statement.I resolve to work as hard as possible to ensure that when the book launch comes around in September, I don't fuck it up and that somebody doesn't end up with 1500 copies sitting in their basement. That means holding unique readings, it means hand-mailing copies of the book out and it means unabashed media whoring. Cause at some point, a fucking poet in this country has got to make a living writing.

3 . I resolve to drink 10 % less. Gotta start somewhere.

4 . I resolve to tell the Folks that I write poems and articles that might make them wish I had starred in a home movie with Paris Hilton instead.

5 . I resolve to smoke 50% less.

6 . I resolve to do my part to ensure that George W. Bush and Goebbels and the rest of the USS don't get back into power. Cause if you thought George did whatever the fuck he wanted in the first four years, wait till he don't care about getting reelected. Come on Clark, or come on Dean.

7 . I resolve to fuck 66.7 % more in an effort to become 66.7% more sane.

8 . I resolve to put on the gasmask and the American flag diaper yet again when it is called for. I resolve not to be intimidated by police or lawyers.

Don't Vote Bush, Vote Nunt.

9. I resolve to masturbate 18% less.

10 . I resolve to finish that fucking movie. If you know what I'm talking about, you know what I'm talking about.

11 . I resolve to smoke more weed. This seems like an intelligent substitute for cigarettes and alcohol.

12. I resolve to change my appearance in order to properly reinforce what Tourette says. Truly, I'm far too pleasant looking to be a drunk psychotic Canuck poet.

13. I resolve to address my superiority complex, my doppleganger complex and my hidden underground bunker complex. I resolve to address vigourous egoism and break myself on the Promethean wheel.

14. I resolve to resolve the triage of Chloe, Colette & Nat. I resolve to break this resolution often and with heated passion. Six tits in hand is worth two brown bush.

15. I resolve to see LitSLAP to a decent cut and cut it into a decent trailer and take a shot at turning it into a real show.

16. I resolve to write a new book, or at least lay down the hard structure of a new book, entitled The Book of Enoch. Gonna need something to follow up the blistering success or mind-numbing failure of Nunt.

17. I resolve to keep on top of what Paul Martin is doing, judge him in an intelligent way and offer constructive criticism.

18. I resolve to realize that time is ticking away. People who do interesting and amazing things with their lives often have a single moment early in their lives that sets them on the path they want. I resolve to believe that I have found a path to that single moment and I resolve to follow it as far as it goes.

19. I resolve to write a haiku sephirot and use my words to seduce an engaged woman.

20 . I resolve to get some sort of religious edict issued against my work. Or at least a blistering critique that starts out something like ... "Mr. Tourette has done for poetry what planes did for the World Trade Centre..."

21. I resolve to do some incredibly stupid things, to risk pariah status, to put on a big fucking show, to bring something new to Canadian writing, to bust the year wide fucking open, to shrug a lot, to start more fights, to piss in more faces, fuck more love more hate more live harder make a name shame a name sleep less earn something for these bags under my eyes get rid of that ghost forever get smarter, get harder get farther. And then, have a laugh and a drink and a smoke with old friends when it all caves in and the world hooks this site up with 'spectacular failure' and make bigger plans, more ridiculous plans, and follow them through again.

2004. The year of Mingus. Like watching a car wreck before your eyes.

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