*************************************
Me: Hey, it’s great to see you all again! Thanks for coming! As you can see there’s a bunch of food and wine…
Doug Ford*: I don’t drink.
Me: Oh, hey Doug!
Doug Ford: No alcohol at all. Not even a drop.
Me: Well, as I was saying, we have a bunch of food, wine and soft drinks on the dinning room table, and you should all feel free to help yourselves to whatever you want– and to avoid whatever you don’t! Anyway, the book we’re going to be discussing is the Hunter S. Thompson classic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Thompson, as you know, pioneered Gonzo journalism, and I thought it might be worth having a look back at this book so that we might consider how the media covered politics in 1970 with how they cover it now. Would anyone like to get us started?
Anne: I don’t know, I think the book feels a little forced, a little dated now, but I really like the way that he portrays the American Dream as a kind of nightmarish hallucination.
Cormac: And the illustrations by Ralph Steadman are brilliant and terrifying, a perfect accompaniment.
Doug Ford: (Snort.)
Me: You didn’t like the illustrations, Doug?
Doug Ford: They look like chicken scratchings. Real garbage. Does smudging your work make it “artistic” or something? Let me tell you, the Ford family printing business never would have survived and been as successful as it was– and it’s been VERY successful– if we’d sent out smudgy work all the time.
It’s just unprofessional. Lazy. Makes me sick.
Me: Interesting point, Doug.
Anne: Did anybody see the movie version of Fear and Loathing, the one starring Johnny Depp?
Doug Ford: Luke Wilson.
Anne: Sorry?
Doug Ford: It starred Luke Wilson not Johnny Depp.
Anne: I just Googled it. Here, ( holding up phone) it says Johnny Depp.
Doug Ford: Nope. It was Luke Wilson. ( crosses arms)
Me: Well, ha-ha-ha, one things for certain, they’ve both been in an awful lot of movies!
Anne: ( In hushed voice) Michael, we talked about this. No more normalizing him, okay?
Me: ( In hushed voice) For the love of God, Anne, just be quiet!
Doug Ford: And let me tell you, I go to Vegas all the time, and wherever the hell those dirty maggot journalists in the book were, it sure as hell wasn’t Vegas!
Cormac: I wonder how Hunter S. Thompson would have covered the mass shooting in Vegas? I would love to have read a Fear and Loathing where they were driving to Vegas in order to cover the shooting instead of the motor cycle race!
Anne: Yeah, that would have been a really interesting twist, I think.
Doug Ford: Last time I was in Vegas was just six weeks ago. For a Neil Diamond concert.
Wife is a bit of a Diamond Head, so we do a lot of road trips through the States attending his concerts. I tell you, that is a man with real talent. We should be talking about him. Sweet Caroline? You name me a better song. Go on! I dare you!
( Uncomfortable silence in the room)
Doug Ford: That’s what I thought.
- Doug Ford is a well-known Toronto politician who was brother to mayor Rob Ford, and who is currently running to become the leader of the Conservative party of Ontario.
Well, the other day my mother actually received this letter from Margaret Atwood:
********************************************************
December, 6th, 2017
bärb/
noun
noun: barb; plural noun: barbs
-
- a sharp projection near the end of an arrow, fishhook, or similar item, angled away from themain point so as to make extraction difficult.
2. a cluster of spikes on barbed wire.
3. a deliberately hurtful remark.
Dear Barb:
Please forgive me for being so informal as to use your first name. I can see that you’re not just appropriately (refer to above prolegomenon) named, but that the Murray line carries very excitable genes, and I certainly don’t want to offend you or any of the other members in your easily inflamed tribe.
Let me first thank you for your apology concerning the alarming behaviour of your 50-something son, and the thoughtful inclusion of hand sanitizer with your letter. You are right, hand sanitizer does make for a nice, affordable stocking stuffer. Thank Heavens for Shoppers Optimum points, eh, Barb?
It’s interesting to note that the word “barb” is derived from Latin and Old French words for “beard.” The patriarchy has a deep reach, Mrs. Murray, a very deep reach. For instance, I wonder why your fully grown, almost elderly son, does not feel the need to apologize for himself to a respected woman he’s been publicly berating? Why would his mother have to do it?
Could it be that Michael, an archetypically mediocre white man,
was born into a world that was made for him, a world where women existed as bit players present only to serve his narrative? And then, with all competition smothered, with the entire force of a white, phallocentric history pushing him forward, Michael, armed with every conceivable advantage, became the author of one very unsuccessful vanity-published book.
That’s what he did.
He did not become an astronaut, he became a fantasy baseball enthusiast. And as he ascended to the status of fantasy baseball enthusiast and nothing else, he fully believed that all his “achievements” were due to his unique genius, and all failures a conspiracy of invisible, unknowable enemies.
Does that sound about right?
But it’s not your fault, Barb. It’s the world we were born into, and if you want to learn more about why your son is an asshole, you should tune in to Bravo on April 30th to watch the award-winning, crisply produced recreation of my uncannily predictive dystopian novel, A Handmaid’s Tale. It stars Elisabeth Moss, whom you might have seen on the cover of some of the magazines you buy at the mall.
Margaret Atwood
PS: Von all den Kreaturen, die auf der Erde atmen und sich bewegen, wird nichts gezüchtet, das schwächer ist als der Mensch.
]]>****************************
Dear Bitter Writer:
I think that having the capacity to feel a broad array of emotions is a big component of being a great, great writer, like you are, and with that in mind I was wondering what the first book that made you cry was?
Igor
Igor:
This one is very easy.
The first book that made me cry was Horton Hears a Who!
Completely fucking terrifying.
Dr. Seuss was one messed-up guy, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he turned out to some sort of unknown serial killer. He’s like a Stephen King for children. You should fear him.
Anyway, I was probably about four when this book was first read to me, and I immediately understood that our world was no different than the speck of dust Horton was holding. Our lives– even those of Mommy and Daddy– were incredibly precarious and vulnerable, subject to forces we know nothing about and couldn’t even begin to imagine. At any second, all we knew and loved could just vanish into an unknowable abyss. I did not sleep for two weeks after the babysitter (Summer) read this stupid book to me, and ever since, I’ve been cursed by a deeply penetrating existential terror, one that continues to govern my days.
************************
Dear Bitter Writer:
You’re such an interesting and charismatic person, I was wondering if you’d share with us any literary pilgrimages you might have gone on?
Oscar winning actress Jennifer Lawrence
Jennifer:
Ha, so great to hear from you!
As far as your question goes, I’ve never been on a, “this is the cafeteria where Kafka ate,” or, “ this is the dungeon where Dr. Seuss used to torture his victims,” kind of pilgrimage. Instead, I think of each day as a literary pilgrimage. I go out with the conscious intent of finding a moment of beauty in the world, of discovering something holy, and then I try to recreate it using words. And so each day is a journey, a pilgrimage toward something sacred that must be worshipped.
PS: Have you been getting my postcards? I have not heard back and was wondering if I was given the wrong super-yacht address for you?
PPS: I think you’re something sacred that must be worshipped!
*****************************************************
Dear Bitter Writer:
I just want to say how much I LOVED your brilliant book A VAN FULL OF GIRLS.
It is, and I hope this doesn’t embarrass you, the work of a true genius. Obviously, writing just pours out of you, but if for some reason you couldn’t be a genius writer, what do you think you’d do for work?
Taylor
Taylor:
Thank you for the kind, extremely perceptive words!
It’s hard to imagine a life where I’m not a writer, but if I were forced to live one by some alien over-lord or something, I think I would probably be a model. I think I could bring a lot to that job.
My most recent invention is a dating service called Hater Mater, where people are paired based on the things they dislike rather than the things that they like.
This is the preliminary questionnaire I have written for people using the App:
1. On a scale of 0-10, how much do you hate the sky?
2. Please choose the stupidest fucking sign in the zodiac.
3. Order these celebrities in the sequence in which you would most want to see them surreally injured in a crossbow incident:
Amy Schumer
The Ikea Monkey
Ethan Hawke
The entire cast from Orange is the New Black
Eric Trump
Adam Driver and Terry Richardson
4. On a scale of 0-10, how much do you hate the ocean?
5. Which Margaret Atwood novel gives you the worst stabbing stomach pain?
6. What do you hate more, squirrels or birds? (Please elaborate)
7. Do your parents hate you more than you hate them, or do you hate them more than they hate you?
8. Is you best friend kind of an asshole?
9. Do you find chopsticks to be infuriating and stupid and pretentious?
10. Do you often find yourself fantasizing about making over-rated Canadian author Margaret Atwood cry?
11. Which part of this passage from a celebrated Margaret Atwood novel do you despise the most?
“Who are you? And I mean really. Who are you?”
My gut tells me that if I tell her right now, in this moment, it will not be well-received. “A friend,” I say, my gaze lowering to her lush mouth and lifting. “And the man who wants to kiss you. Really kiss you. Can I kiss you, Myla?”
“You’re asking?”
“Yes. I’m asking. After all you’ve been through-”
“He hasn’t destroyed me. He hasn’t beaten me and I don’t like that you think he has.”
“I don’t think he’s beaten you.”
“He hasn’t,” she insists. “I’m not giving him that power and damn it, you better not either by treating me like I’m broken and fragile. So kiss me if you’re going to kiss me or let me go, if you don’t want-”
I cup the back of her head, and slant my mouth over hers, my tongue sliding against hers, stroking, caressing, and the taste of her, one part hunger I welcome, but the other part, the torment, I intend to drive away. I deepen the kiss, my hand pressing beneath her tank top, finding warm, soft skin. My fingers splay over her rib cage, while my mind reminds me that no matter how big she talks, she wants this escape for a reason. She has been abused, used, hurt. “
12. “Everybody loves a parade,” true or false?
13. Is Real Estate for fools?
14. When you hear the word “Mindfulness” do you want to build an attack drone or buy a magic killing sword?
15. What do you hate more, having to use a sink or writing with a pen?
16. Which superhero would you most like to beat-up in a fight?
17. Do you hate it when people say, “Good Morning!”
18. Are relationships insanely unrealistic and entirely impossible?
19. On a scale of 1 to 100, how much do you hate non-Spanish speaking people who pronounce Nicaragua as ‘Knee-ah-rah-hah?”
20. If you heard that Margaret Atwood opened a restaurant and that all the sandwiches were named after her poems, would you immediately vomit?
]]>One of the components of this event was that I was signing copies of my bestselling book A Van Full of Girls. In case the book has somehow escaped your attention, here are a few press clippings:
“ I thought it was fine, but it could stand for less swearing. Swearing doesn’t prove what a big man you are.”
—Barb Murray, Canadian mother
“Although I could not invest in Michael’s book project, I was struck by how courageous he was to put his thoughts down like that and then, in spite of the risk of public embarrassment and the terribly long odds of any sort of success, seek publication. So brave. We need more people with Michael’s spirit in Canada.”
—Arlene Dickinson, star of the CBC hit TV show Dragon’s Den
“ It’s just lie after lie after lie.”
—Doug Ford, Canadian businessman and politician
I have to say, and I’m giving you the straight-up truth here, the book really is a fucking game-changer.
You should buy it.
At any rate, while we were selling off our things, Margaret Atwood, who lives in the same area, happened upon us. I conducted a somewhat adversarial interview with her a few months ago for a magazine called The Knuckler, ( http://michaelmurray.ca/atwood-interview ) and as this took place via phone I was unsure if she knew who I was, but when she saw me at my little A Van Full of Girls kiosk, she approached.
Margaret Atwood: I’ve been surveying all your trinkets here, such a contrast amidst the grandeur of the neighbourhood. So sweet, so hopeful.
Me: Thanks.
Margaret Atwood: It’s like an archeological dig. Sifting through the debris you can see the arc of a life, the enthusiasm and ambition that inevitably crumbles into failure, and then finally the recognition of that failure and the selling off of all that had symbolized your hope.
Me: I’ll let you have the Six Million Dollar Man thermos for a buck.
Margaret Atwood: I don’t think so.
Me: Your loss.
Margaret Atwood: You seem to have an awful lot of unfinished self-help books for sale. Why is that?
Me: I don’t know, why is the Handmaiden’s Tale so much more popular as a TV show not written by you, than as a book written by you?
Margaret Atwood: Handmaid’s Tale, it’s Handmaid’s Tale.
Me: Oh. Sorry.
Margaret Atwood: This book, A Van Full of Girls? Are you the author?
Me: Yes. You should buy a copy. Support the arts.
Margaret Atwood: So tell me, how does self-publishing work these days?
Me: My book wasn’t self-published.
Margaret Atwood: Really!? How extraordinary. Typically you don’t seen an established author out on a front lawn selling his book from a knapsack. And look, you have so many copies! You must have at least 40!
Me: You know what? I also have an awful lot of Margaret Atwood books for sale over there, but people just don’t seem interested. One woman picked up a copy of Lady Oracle, showed it to her friend and said, “Barf.”
Margaret Atwood: (Gives withering look)
Me: (Imitates withering look)
Margaret Atwood left shortly after this exchange, but not before telling me that I should keep all the self-help books I was trying to sell, and buying, for reasons we can only imagine, a used The Very Best of Chris de Burgh LP.
He made this comment a couple of weeks ago after Kanye had said something Kanyesque about books. This was the quote:
“Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed. I am not a fan of books. I am a proud non-reader of books.”
People, primarily white, middle-class people, as far as I could tell, rushed to their social media channels to denounce and mock Kanye yet again, portraying him as an illiterate, entitled child who lacked the intellectual capacity for long-form reading. However, in so doing they completely over-looked the fact that what he said wasn’t stupid at all, and could easily apply to the vast majority of the population.
Novels were once the castles in which everybody wanted to live. To write one was considered the highest artistic and intellectual aspiration, and all that was profound in culture and human experience was transferred– as if by holy passage– through them. Well, that’s simply not the case any more. The world has changed and we consume our culture and entertainment in very different ways than we did 50 years ago.
The experience I used to get reading a novel, I now typically get following specific TV shows. For me, the scope, intellect and cultural penetration offered in shows like Breaking Bad or Transparent (you could name dozens more), and the continued richness of experience and evolution of circumstance they present, simply outstrips what is available in novels. Other people will make similar arguments using graphic novels, Blogs, gaming communities, sports or more traditional forms like cinema, dance or music as examples. (I would also argue that we are much more participatory, almost partnered, in what we consume now and much less the passive receptacles we were in the past.)
Novels, particularly literary novels, have traditionally been written by a very specific group of people, and it’s never been a diverse group. The expression “Dead White Males” might pop to mind here, and although there’s much greater diversity in writing than there ever has been before, it still speaks loudest in the privileged, virtually aristocratic fields of MFA’s.
Naturally then, the experience of reading novels is an alienating one for the vast majority, and with so many other, and superior options available, why on earth would somebody like Kanye spend his time reading books that don’t speak to him, instead of creating art and pursuing his passions?
Earlier in the week a video purportedly made by bored hacktivist group Anonymous was released targeting Kanye. It was ridiculous– like a Prog Rock video from the 80’s. In it, a Guy Fawkes masked figure, in a condescending British accent, chided Kanye for all manner of untoward behaviour. It really sounded like the gripes of a 15 year-old who was angry with the cool kid in school who got all the attention.
What people want with Kanye, I think, is to keep him in line.
They want him to remember his place in the hierarchy, and every time they raise their voices to ridicule something he says or cry foul at a taboo he’s broken, they remind us not of his boundless ego, but of their inability to live in a world– now so different from the one they grew up in– where a man like Kanye might confidently assert himself and speak for an unheard majority that they’re no longer a part of.
]]>
“This is not just a metaphor for my time as mayor, but for life. It’s a struggle, it’s always a battle, but even when it’s -2 out and all you want to do is watch YouTube videos in bed and drink Gatorade, you have to get up, go out there and work to make the world a better place. As the great and controversial Japanese author Haruki Murakami said, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
“Ah geez, I don’t remember this one. It looks like I’m with Jesus. Maybe a parade?”
“Couldn’t believe how frigging big that owl was! Truth be told, I was kind of scared of the thing, but in politics, as in life, you have to overcome your fears, and I did. I looked that owl in the eyes and said to myself, “Mr. Owl, I respect you, but I am not afraid of you, not even if you do that Exorcist thing with your head. You shall have no dominion over me!” And even though I am a man and the owl is a bird creature, and I was speaking in my head, it’s like the owl “got” what I was saying. We came to an understanding and I overcame my fear of that owl. That’s what politics is all about.”
“I remember that day! It’s the small moments that comprise a life, isn’t it? I had to take the TTC because my driver had been arrested for something, forget what. Anyway, I’m a man of the people and had been talking to everybody, learning about them, and then I had a moment to myself, some quiet time for reflection, and I was thinking about my fantasy football team and how to make Toronto a better city. That’s when the Ferris wheel idea came to me.”
“This is one of my favourite moments from all my time in office. For a brief instance, we were all able to put aside our differences and come together as one. It was beautiful, man, just beautiful. One love, that’s what it’s all about, one love. That’s how I’d like my years as Mayor of Toronto to be remembered. When I was mayor, Toronto was the city that danced like nobody was watching.”
“I was looking up at that sculpture of the rat, and it looked to me like it had been decapitated and its head had just been put up on a spit as a trophy, everybody laughing. I don’t know why, but I was suddenly overcome by an empathy for the creature and I just wanted to reach out and touch its face, let it know that it was loved.”
]]>
Ford has submitted an audition tape with a number of sample interviews he’s conducted, and this is a small selection:
Doug Ford interviews Deepak Chopra (Indian-American author, public-speaker, businessman and physician)
Doug Ford: So, what do you like better being a doctor or being a businessman?
Deepak Chopra: Well, we are more than just the labels that society puts on us. Yes, it is true that I am a businessman and doctor, but I, like all human spirits, am many things, and everything that I do nourishes my soul equally.
Doug Ford: I’m a very successful businessman. We make labels. We’re called Deco Labels. Three different locations, two in the GTA and one in Chicago. Deepak, let me ask you, you ever been to Chicago?
Deepak Chopra: I have been many times and will be there next week to promote my new book, Why is God Laughing: The path to joy and optimism.
Doug Ford: That’s great. You should take in a Blackhawk’s game and go to Michael Jordan’s steak house. Jesus, those are some good goddamn steaks. Do you eat steak in India? I mean, you folks worship cows, you’d think you’d know and appreciate how delicious steak is. By the way, I’ve always admired the Indian people, you guys are great, very colourful and polite.
Doug Ford interviews Suzanne Somers (comedienne, actress and businessperson)
Doug Ford: Let me tell you, thirty years ago you were just about the hottest thing I ever saw. Chrissy Snow. Jesus Christ. Hot. And let me tell you, Three’s Company, that was a real comedy. Classy.
Suzanne Somers: Thank you.
Doug Ford: So, you write poetry in your spare time?
Suzanne Somers: I’ve always felt the need to express myself creatively.
Doug Ford: I like to box. Sometimes shot put. Okay, my producer wants me to read one of your poems. It’s from a collection called Touch Me: The poems of Suzanne Somers. I bet you have a lot of takers when people hear you say, “touch me,” eh? Right for the boobs.
Suzanne Somers: I mean it spiritually, not physically.
Doug Ford: Yeah, whatever. So it’s called “Organic Girl,” and it goes like this:
Organic girl dropped by last night
For nothing in particular
Except to tell me again how beautiful and serene she feels
On uncooked vegetables and wheat germ fortified by bean sprouts
Mixed with yeast and egg whites on really big days
She not only meditates regularly, but looks at me like I should
And lectures me about meat and ice cream
And other aggressive foods I shouldn’t eat.
Nice. Okay, I got a two-parter for you. So, what’s the theme of this poem and you ever have any work done? You still look pretty good.
Doug Ford interviews Tanya Tagaq (award winning throat singer)
Doug Ford: Sorry, I had a real hard time there with your last name. If you’re in show business you might want to change it so that it’s easier to say and remember. Just smart business.
Tanya Tagaq: I like my name as it is, thank you.
Doug Ford: (Stares at her, a burning silence for 20 seconds.) Are you saying you don’t care about business?
Tanya Tagaq: No, I’m saying I care about my name.
Doug Ford: You’re First Nations, right? Am I right? Yeah, look, don’t you think if maybe you guys were better at business you wouldn’t have signed all those treaties where you gave up prime real estate for bracelets and you wouldn’t always be asking tax payers for hand-outs? So maybe business is important, okay? You get it? (Aggressively bangs question cues cards on table) Alright, so what the hell is throat singing anyway?
Dear Bitter Writer:
What are writers really like?
Ansell Pitt
Dear Mister Pitt:
Writers are the worst.
I’d be hard pressed to think of any single grouping of people, be they bound by profession, religion, ethnicity, sexual fetish or disease, that are worse than writers.
Writers are grubby, small, aspirational and hateful people.
The only thing that they loathe more than themselves are other writers. The success of other human beings, even in some cases animals, is toxic to the writer. If you happen to fall into conversation with one about something that is “good,” or something that you “like,” the writer will quickly, as if in a panic, change the topic to something that is “not good,” or something that they “don’t like.” They will do this in the way that a squirrel might scurry off up a tree when it gets startled. Writers feel diminished by light and joy, and will seek to suck as much of it as possible out of any given day. Never, ever ask a writer to make a speech at a wedding.
Think of this way:
If all the writers on the planet were jammed into one insufferable country, it would be torn apart by civil war and terrorism.
And then likely bombed by every other county in the world, too.
It would just be that bad a place.
Dear Bitter Writer:
Hello, love the very helpful blog! My question is book cover designs. What would go on it? Should the character be on the cover or should the cover relate to the content in the story? Thank you.
Samantha Bell
Dear Ms. Bell:
Are you some kind of a moron?
Look, if some other moron is willing to publish your stupid book, you should let them put whatever the fuck they want on the cover!! As a writer it is essential that you learn to be a sycophant. You must shamelessly align yourself with whatever the prevailing tribe is, and ceaselessly, but with as much elegance and perception as you can muster, lather all editors and associated “literati” (gag!) with compliments. Tell them how much you love the little, European scarves they’re always wearing and how cool their frames and tattoos are, and for God’s sake, if they want you nude and fully penetrated on the cover, you let them know how much you love their “edgy vision” and ask how many orifices they want penetrated, damn it!
Obviously, I’d make a great leader. I have the physical charisma our culture demands of its politicians, have an agile, encyclopedic brain, speak 6 languages and have a PHD in people. However, since I sincerely believe that fame is a curse, I refuse to put my wife and dog through the constant, ceaseless scrutiny that my taking office would entail, so I say, once again, I will not be running for Mayor of Toronto.
This does not mean that I am abdicating my civic duty to the great, multicultural, world-class city of Toronto. I have just signed on (salary and benefits part of a non-disclosure agreement) to be a part of the Duck For Mayor (@duckformayor on Twitter) team working to elect a duck for mayor of Toronto. My duties will be vast, but one of the first things I will be doing is forming a coherent platform that serves all Torontonians, something that I will be unveiling through a series of Tweets on Twitter.
@duckformayor: The carnage in Chinatown must be stopped!
@duckformayor: When I am mayor of Toronto, I will raze Chinatown!
@duckformayor: Both of them!
@duckformayor: Duck for Mayor will be a just Mayor, but a vengeful one!
@duckformayor: Tough on crime!
@duckformayor: Not afraid to walk the walk.
@duckformayor: Duck for Mayor supports the brave police officers of the Greater Toronto Area!
@duckformayor: Unlike some candidates, Duck for Mayor has never been convicted of drunk driving! #RobFordHas
@duckformayor: Plan to restructure transits includes, canals, canals, canals!
@duckformayor: Subways already flooding, why not leave them that way?
@duckformayor: HUGE taxpayer savings in foregoing repair costs!
@duckformayor: Also, tourists will love gondola rides through Toronto’s famous underground canals!
@duckformayor: Come on, Toronto, think big, vote Duck!
@duckformayor: Rumours of my affair with Margaret Atwood have been greatly exaggerated. #TorontoStarIsTrash
@duckformayor: Classy lady, though, don’t have a bad word to say about her.
@duckformayor: Did some great camping together back in the day.
@duckformayor: Canals, canals, canals!
@duckformayor: Anybody else missing GOT as much as I am? #OnlyWithdrawlThisDuckKnows
@duckformayor: Death to Chinatown!!
]]>