September 24, 2004
The Pink Ambulance
Yes, that was a pink ambulance that ate Graham
Neil last night on television. But we did let
him out eventually. And yes, the Startled Night
was startling. And a good time. I'm telling ya,
poetry as an evening is a hell of a good time.
Especially when you add in half a dozen pints
of lager and some good friends.
The important thing to focus on today, is that
the Write The Nation Tour kicks off on Monday,
and if you miss it, you're a fool.
Don't know what I'm talking about? Hit www.writethenation.com
and explore it in great detail. Hell, there's
even pictures of me looking sexy.
September 23, 2004
Startled Night
Still late, still spinning plates from the sickness
drugs, still excited about the Startled
Night reading tonight, still worried that
my voice will give out in the middle of it. Still
able to shock myself when reading out loud, especially
the line-up for this evening. It's an evening
of subversive verse, so I picked out all the poems
about fighting and killing and read them back
to back and shook my head. It is a rather violent
book at times.
Publisher passed on a couple of excellent reviews
of the book, specifically,
the Manitoban and Brandon Manitoba's The
Quill. He's afraid to pass on the reviews
that slam the work, maybe thinking that I'll be
out hunting for blood. He's probably right. I
don't respond all that well to criticism.
September 22, 2004
Mingus is Illin'
There's no better time to get sick than two days
before a major reading, and five days before one's
first real book launch. But so it is.
This is why I wish God did exist. So I could curse
his name in sixteen languages, burn some bibles,
and grind their ashes into some Vaporub before
smearing it all over my chest.
Bound to happen, I suppose, with the steady diet
of caffeine, four hours of sleep, and MacDick
breakfasts every day. If I was my mother, I would
shake my head. Maybe this will help me lay off
on the smoking and the drinking. But I wouldn't
count on it.
So, for all you sacks of crap who haven't booked
off next Monday night for the book launch of a
fucking lifetime, here's the real fucking deal.
If you can't drink on a Monday night, you might
as well put the barrel in your mouth right now,
'cause it is over.
Buck up. You're old, not dead.
And this opportunity will not come around again
for a long time cause it will be at least two
years before I have another book ready to go and
can afford to drive an ambulance across the country.
That is, if this thing doesn't completely ruin
me financially, physically, mentally, and sexually.
So, this Monday, September 27th, everyone better
show up at the Backroom Vodka Bar. Imagine it
like this: show up early, get a ride in the freshly
minted Pink Ambulance. Step out, after a fine
tour around the block, walk up the stairs to be
greeted by a hot nun, and enter the bar as the
strains of Bach's masses play in the background.
Smile as a man with a Scottish accent named Glenn
hands you a free Bloody Mingus, and drink it,
knowing you are witnessing a one of a kind event.
And then, get Mingus to sign your ass in blood.
Or, as my publisher likes to say:
For Immediate Release
On Monday, October September 27th, Mingus
Tourette and a volatile band of poets and writers
kick off a four-week, cross-country book tour
in a pink, fully-functional 1986 Chevy
C-30 One Ton Ambulance.
Zygote Publishing is proud to announce the launch
of Mingus Tourette's explosive new book, Nunt,
(Zygote Publishing, September 2004) which tells
the shocking story of a man who walks out on his
wife and embarks on a ferocious two year odyssey
of womanizing and alcohol-fuelled violence. Tourette
roars across a barbaric America in this savage
tale of murderous fist fights and Molotov cocktails,
doing battle with malevolent priests, falling
in love with obsessed prostitutes, and desperately
trying to exorcise the ghosts of his failed marriage.
In an attempt to re-institute the poet as a figure
of cultural and political importance, Mingus Tourette's
WRITE THE NATION TOUR will be loudly stopping
in: Edmonton, Vancouver, Calgary, Lethbridge,
Saskatoon, Regina, Winnipeg, Thunder Bay, St.
Catharines, Toronto, Ottawa and Montreal.
Please join us Monday, September 27th
at The Backroom Vodka Bar (10324 - 82 Avenue)
at 8.00 pm to help celebrate
these events. Don't miss your chance to be among
the first to experience the ranting, free drinks,
and beautiful people that are sure to surround
this historical tour. Book launch attendees will
be greeted by a nun and treated to FREE Bloody
Marys, Freedom Fries, Kentucky Fried Chicken,
Vatican-style door prizes and other exotic American
foodstuffs. Early arrivals (7pm) will be entitled
to a ride in Mr. Tourette's tour vehicle, the
pink 1986 C-30 Chevrolet Ambulance.
For more information on the tour, please visit
www.writethenation.com
. For more information on Nunt, please visit www.zygotepublishing.com/newest.shtml.
-30-
That's right, fuckers. If you haven't been there
yet, allow me to announce it. The Write
the Nation Tour website is up and running.
Dates and times are still filtering in, but the
majority of the deal is there. The tour kicks
off next week. And after that, lock up your daughters,
hide your gin, seal off your convents and stick
an apple up your ass.
Mingus is coming. And hell's coming with him.
Yup. Just like it said in Revelations.
"And he rode a pale horse pink ambulance,
and hell followed with him. And hell followed
with him..."
September 21st, 2004
One Chair Nobody Sits In
There was a time when Merle didn't fight. Not because
he couldn't, but because when he did, he couldn't
stop, and the RCs, they would have to go into the
bar, six at a time to take him down. His arms were
that long, and he was strong enough to lift a deep-freeze
by himself and when he got into the rye, he was
simply immune to pain.
Merle was a friend of Tento's. I know this, because
I was going through Tento's journals again, and
there was a small, yellow envelope, unopened, tucked
into a copy of an American haiku collection. On
the envelope was written 'Requiem for Merle'.
I opened it. I don't know who the envelope was supposed
to reach, or why Tento never sent it, but he never
did. I imagine it was supposed to be passed onto
someone Merle knew after Merle's pickup hit a spruce
tree in a snowstorm at about 110 kilometres an hour.
Inside the envelope was a slip of notepaper from
a cheap, small town hotel.
It seems like something to share, one dead man's
requiem for another. On the paper was written, in
small, pencilled letters:
there is one chair
nobody sits in
the table is not set
the window is open
in the distance
the crows argue
September 20th, 2004
Stratospherics
Got a call last week from my publisher, whose voice
was typically frazzled. We're trying to set up this
cross-country tour and some of it is working spectacularly,
and some is still ethereal, so I was preparing to
talk him down about that, cause it's in pretty good
shape. I was also prepared to discuss the fact that
internet sales have remained steady since the launch
of our e-commerce system - meaning, zero. However,
that's not what he was panicking about.
He was worried about the launch.
He has a venue booked, but the date is a mere week
away. And he doesn't quite know what to serve, what
to present, what to offer as door prizes, etc. So
I told him to sit down, have a cigarette and let
Mingus attend to business. And I cooked up what
I thought should be at a Mingus Tourette / Write
the Nation Tour launch. As far as I understand it,
a book/tour launch consists of some food, some drinks,
an introduction and a reading. So, I applied the
theme of Catholics and America, two of my favourite
targets in the book,
and went from there. As I see it, we should have:
Nuns serving drinks.
A free 'Bloody Mary' for the first 40 attendees.
Communion Wine
Authentic Catholic Hymns playing in the background.
Freedom Fries
Buffalo Wings
Philadelphia Cream Cheese
Kentucky Fried Chicken
New York Bagels
+
An introduction by a man in Habitual drag.
Marvin Gander reading the foreword.
Mingus Tourette reading a bit of each of the four
books, plus a news analysis of what is occuring
today in Iraq.
Pointed questions from the audience and a debate
about misogyny.
Not to mention books getting signed.
And of course, much conversation, drinking, and
arriving in a pink ambulance. And maybe a door prize
that looks
something like this.
I mean, really, what else is there? I'd love a boxing
ring and maybe some dogs fighting and women mudwrestling,
but I don't think we can round that up in a week.
So we'll see what we get. The official announcement,
and tour site launch, is imminent.
So all you local shitheads - Monday, September 27th,
BackRoom Vodka Bar. Book it off and get ready to
be there, or hide your face in shame and prepare
to lie about your mother's operation the next time
I see you.
In the meantime, get some hot fucking poetry this
Thursday at the Startled
Night event at Remedy. Starring Mark Kozub,
Mingus Tourette, Corey Hamilton and Mike Gravel.
If you've never seen E-Ville poetry before, this
is the time to get your knees dirty. I swear - four
major poetry events in the next two weeks - this
is the time to be young and filthy and full of vitriol
to spit, sort of like a Ukranian wedding gone horribly
wrong.
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September 20th - 26th, 2004
