November 19th, 2004
Ice on the River
With Christmas quickly approaching, and everyone
else's marketing machines firing on twelve cylinders,
Zygote and Tourette decided that enough mourning
had been committed, and that it was time to return
to their halycon roots.
Yes.
In a long conversation over slow gin fizzes, the
publisher brought up a recent article in the McGill
Tribune, which refered to Mingus' site by
saying, "For more of Tourette's writing,
visit his cult success The Daily Mingus, an online
serial, at www.nunt.com."
And there it was. Cult success. The two of them
shrugged and giggled a bit.
Any success was, of course, due in great part
to the strange and wonderful readers who read
Tourette's bullshit every morning before cracking
open photoshop and designing their little hearts
out. Strange, wonderful readers who loved the
tales of debauchery, sadness, self-immolation
and regular shitheadery that graced the pages
of Tourette's serial.
Tourette and the publisher discussed why any success
had been achieved at all, as they had aimed consistantly
at spectacular failure as their end goal, and
were well on their way to achieving it. The answer
seemed simple. Sex, violence and the laugh track.
And so, they decided that maybe they weren't licked
yet, that there were still some contests to be
had, institutions to torture, and by god, if there
was one thing they could do to shed the surly
bonds of earthly failure, it would be to ruin
Christmas for everybody.
So get ready to settle in by the yule tide fire
as we prepare one last drunken quest for glory
starting next week. Photos, contests, videos,
radio recordings, open letters to the Vatican,
new religions, online communities, and more tales
of Chloe, Colette, the accountant, Ronnie's RealDoll
and the Return of the Buddha.
Yes.
The Daily Mingus. Bringing you the Worst, 'cause
the Best wasn't good enough.
November 18th, 2004
Excerpt: Fuel of the Prophets
...after an ascetic period, Tourette made the
decision to whole-heartedly examine his roots
and to start drinking far more seriously. After
long forays into beer, red wine, sambuca, rum,
gin, absinthe and most of the anisette family,
it was decided that Mingus should either settle
down with scotch, some heavily tannic red wine
or tequila.
To decide, he followed in the footsteps of the
prophet Yuriko and made his pilgrimage to the
northern forests. He spent a night in the back
of the ambulance near the shores of Lake Wabasca
with a bottle of the liquor trinity, and a copy
of Malcolm Lowry's Under The Volcano.
After exactly two-hundred and six pages, the answer
became firm and clear. Colonialist empires would
always receive their dues, their agents would
be shot down like dogs and left to rot in the
ditches beside the bodies of curs, and if there
was one liquor worth marrying, it was mescal.
And so, under the yellow light of the moon, Tourette
stood quickly and renounced the tannic beast and
the salon-shine of the peat. After pouring out
the remnants of the two cast-offs, he knelt gently
at the heel of the old Spanish empire and chanted
aloud. It was at that point that he knew that
the fuel of the new religion would be liquid,
it would be golden and it would give him just
the salient rage he would need while burning churches
on the plains. And months later, it would give
him the name...
-from
"Out of Nowhere Comes Your Messiah: A neo-Post-Colonial-Modern
Investigation of the Rise of the Fer-Agave Church
and her Founder Mingus Tourette"
November 17th, 2004
Minor Cribbage
An account of the time Mingus went to the poetry
reading, had a few gin and tonics came home read
some of Tento's journal, pulled two previously
unfound haiku out of the text and felt compelled
to match up with two of his own.
I.
dark blue mornings
concrete skylines
the howl of terns
II.
lamp lined alleyways
in the far reaches of Montreal
upside down maps
I.
wandering Catholics
with their godless handbags
prayer accessories
II.
percolating fetus
mothers without heads - singing
for executioners
November 16th, 2004
Cabbage Day
It was a crisp November morning, the sky just
blooming, when Mingus, beset as he was by immense
personal and financial problems of his own making,
decided to strictly refer to himself henceforth
in the third person, thereby enforcing a layer
of non-reality between himself and that which
he did not want to recognize.
After making this decision, he put on his pants
and his long grey underwear and his plaid and
walked out into the streets. He was hoping to
catch Gander at his door, before he got dressed.
And when he arrived, Gander was indeed on the
enclosed porch reading his paper, smoking and
roasting his feet over an electric heater.
"I've decided to retire," said Mingus.
"This writing thing is not what it was cracked
up to be. It is rotten and tastes like cabbage.
What good comes out of it?"
"Step off it," said Gander. "It
pays my bills and heats this porch."
"You're a typist," said Mingus. "You
might as well be flipping wood down at the mill."
"And you're ignorant in the early light,"
said Gander.
"I am," said Mingus. "And I should
be sorry, but I'm not."
"Well," said Gander. "Whatever
it is, it can always be worse."
"I suppose. I could be sick," said Mingus.
"Or I could be sick and you could not know
what to say," said Gander.
"True. That is always worse. When someone's
friend dies, and I have nothing to say. And worse,
no book to give that will bring some comfort."
" Or we could both be dead," said Gander.
" I always give Basho."
"But we wouldn't know it," said Mingus.
"Basho. Why didn't I think of that?"
"I don't know," said Gander. "It's
as holy a book for pagans like you that I can
think of, and I mean that in the simple non-believer
way. A good text to start a non-religion."
Mingus scratched his ass, his hand digging into
the long underwear.
"I have Tento's work. He fills the role of
the prophet, too," said Mingus. "I think
this is what is next. A religion. "
"You'll have to do some writing for that,"
said Gander.
And he laughed through the smoke.
"It can always be worse," said Gander.
"You could have no desires. You can still
plough the verdant field?"
"I took a bleeding philistine three days
past," said Mingus.
"And why else would anyone start a religion,"
said Gander.
"Precisely," said Mingus. "Maybe..."
"There," said Gander. " It is.
It can always be worse. You could be unable to
plough the verdant field. Or worse, you could
have no hope for days to come. "
The heater creaked and glowed red under his feet.
"And what happens on that day, when I have
no more hope?" said Mingus.
"Then it can't get any worse."
And after that, Gander flipped up his paper and
continued to read. Mingus did not say anything
for a long time. After awhile, he wrote in his
notebook, a few lines, and then helped himself
to a cigarette. He and Gander sat there on the
porch and read the paper together and did not
speak until it was time to leave for work.
November 15th, 2004
Our Own Demockery
After several months of making fun of Americans
and their fucked up elections, it's time we Albertans
get serious about our own democratic process.
Cause really, thirty-three years of the same government
in power is fucking ridiculous. Some kingdoms
don't last that long. I understand that we live
in a province that has a high level of cash flow
due to a fifty dollar barrel of oil, but is that
really a solid reason to re-elect a premier who:
a. is an admitted drunk
b. yells at homeless people
c. makes fun of retards
d. storms out of national meetings on health care
to go gambling
e. is a plagiarist
And so on. At fifty dollars a barrel, even a bunch
of fuck-ups like myself, Gander, Sweaty Charles,
Ronnie, Terrible John and Dick Castrati could
run the province in a prosperous, even-keeled
way. I don't dig how the government assumes re-election,
and doesn't bother to cover it up. It's phenomenally
arrogant, and insulting to voters.
Alberta Premier Ralph
Klein pretty much promised voters a sleepwalk
when he said he wasn't going to make promises
or discuss health-care during his campaign and,
with 10 days to go before the Nov. 22 election,
the electorate appears to be struggling to stay
awake.
While opposition parties
have laid out detailed platforms with their visions
for Alberta's future, Klein's Tories have yet
to promise anything but good government in the
most general terms. Political analysts say Klein's
strategy appears to be along the lines of "the
less said the better" as he coasts to what
is expected to be another majority victory.
- CTV
The NDP recently tried to coax some health-care
plans out of the Conservatives by printing a "Health
Care For Dummies" booklet for Klein.
The stunt was a reaction to Klein comments at
the beginning of the 28-day provincial election
campaign that health care reforms were too complicated
to discuss prior to the Nov. 22 vote.
When the premier was pressed
to reveal his plan for health care reform during
last week's televised leaders debate, Klein maintained
he doesn't have a plan to privatize health care.
"I don't know which is
worse - a secret plan to privatize health care
or no plan at all," Mason said Saturday.
He said he has no doubt
that the premier does have a plan for cutting
health care costs to government, but doesn't want
to share it because Albertans won't like it. -
Canada.com
For those who ask, 'What's the Alternative?' as
though there was none at all, I say, don't be
a fucking idiot. Vote for the Alberta
NDP or the Alberta
Liberals. You do not HAVE to vote for the
Conservative party. You don't. And though it might
seem like there is no point to voting against
the Conservatives, because they will probably
win, there certainly is a point.
The best result in next week's vote would be a
good scare for the Tories, one that costs them
one or two dozen seats and unseats a handful of
ministers.
The best result would
be one that awakens them from their policy lethargy,
one that shocks them from their arrogance and
rattles them enough to take the government off
autopilot and actually begin flying it again.
- Lorne Gunter, Edmonton Journal
W hen hard-right wing pundit Lorne Gunter has
come out guns-blazing to say that Ralph has got
to go, it really must be time for a change. I
don't normally like Lorne's perspective on things,
but this is a hell of a good article. Read
it.
And when you're done, give me one good reason
to vote for Ralph Klein or the Conservative party
in this upcoming election.
Myself, I live in the Strathcona riding where
Raj 'Rage Against the Machine' Pannu is running.
I will vote for him. I suggest that others across
the province consider casting their ballots against
the Conservatives because the government is simply
too comfortable, and the general populace has
been removed from the democratic process. Think
I'm wrong? Check the numbers of seats from the
last election.
Conservative: 74
Liberal: 7
NDP: 2
Total Number of Seats: 83
The Conservatives have 89% of the seats, which
is as much as any government can have without
being Stalin's Communist Party circa 1950. And
the Conservatives have been running the show since
1971, which was before I was born. Think I'm wrong
about voting for the NDP? Tell me why.
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November 15th - 21st, 2004