NGM: 35

DIE SCREAM DIE

Die Scream Die! A Musical Revue
Thursday, July 2, 2009 - 7:00pm
The Gladstone Hotel, Ballroom

1214 Queen Street West
Cost: PWYC, $7 suggested


Tony Burgess
Derek McCormack
Carl Wilson
Dani Couture
Nathaniel G. Moore


If you’re a fan of blunt-force trauma, you could do no better than the launch of the 17th annual Scream Literary Festival, when horror-lit luminaries Tony Burgess (Pontypool) and Derek McCormack (The Haunted Hillbilly, The Show That Smells) lead an all-singing, all-dancing musical revue like an undead Donny & Marie.

Join their alter egos Count Cormula and, um, Tony Burgess as they lead Scream Mainstage Alumni Dani Couture (Good Meat), Sean Dixon (The Girls Who Saw Everything), Carl Wilson (Let's Talk About Love) and others through a ghoulish extravaganza.

Will Cormula’s vampires prevail? Will Burgess’ zombies emerge victorious? Will the Scream alumni get to read their works amidst the singing and dancing? Will the Eye Magazine Poetry Contest winner prove an innocent onstage victim in all this madness? What does Nathaniel G. Moore have to do with any of this?

Find out in Die Scream Die! The Musical Revue.

1214 Queen Street West

WRONG BAR (illus. by Amanda Sampson)

COVER
inside cover - "found" text
page 1 - illustration by Amanda Sampson
page 2 "found text"
page 3 "author bio"
page 4 "found text"
page 5 "WRONG BAR by Nathaniel G. Moore"
page 6 blank
page 7 part one

(all parts - one, two, three, four, should be on facing pages)

A 17-year-old girl let out terrifying "murderous screams" as a coyote attacked her while she was trying to crawl from a prop coffin. The coffin had been thrown down the side of a hill as part of a "hoax gone insane" last night in Maudlin. The coyote left a 9-centimetre on the girl's face.
The teen was a part of a terribly conceived heist, and police still are not completely certain what motivated the teens to reach the "extreme levels of violence" that dominated the later part of the evening. "I felt a pinch at my face, then I sort of passed out" she said, noting the coyote left bite holes in her jean jacket.

WRONG BAR (2009) NGM

Editing Wrong Bar live.

ISBN

A young cloud of malice looms over Maudlin City...

When self-obsessed Maudlin City writer Charles Haas wakes in a make-shift grave complete with window pane roof, he realizes two things: firstly that it's a scene reenacted from one of his abandoned manuscript of fiction, and secondly , he must stop showing his writing to strangers.

While still fresh in the dirt, Charles becomes obsessed by the city's enfants terrible, who are in the midst of plotting a demonic dance party hoax, lead by evil eighteen-year-old Shawn Michaels. Soon Charles becomes consumed with the throngs of hate-totting teens that he believes are obsessed with plotting and hacking each other into a post-avatar oblivion.

Wrong Bar is a novel that refuses to celebrate the wild child within, instead seeks the greater emotional truth behind the teen-aged psychodramatic passions of a deranged generation thriving in the post-sacred era.

Nathaniel G. Moore describes his third book as what would happen if he had written Brighton Rock now, in the age of twitter.

WRONG BAR

Was she the impetus for all this nocturnal carnage and bashing? Was Shawn that jealous, trite and cruel? Did he hate Jim that much to treat us all like pinata --

In and out of consciousness. The world breathes around her; Crystal sees the tears in her stockings come to life; labratory electrodes, she the willing cadaver watching leavers go north and south in grainy ritual. What did I say? What was the last thing I said? She passes out in the temporary finesse of the ambulance; face in gauze, life tangeld in pre-dawn's fresh take of day.

Robin survives with minor brusings, sprained ankle, Jim is found a few feet from the hill visibly shaken, scraped and ready to cooperate.

That leaves Kimberly (dead) Stephen Knight (found at his parents home cowering in the garage, sobbing at the steering wheel) and Lee and Shawn.

Questions for RB and CR So it was more than money you think? I don't know (Both).

Did Shawn ever talk about Lee? Only in like typical guy jealous guy talk, jealous ways. RB: He always changed the subject so we rarely spoke of Lee in front of Shawn. They must have had some sort of understanding? Hard to say. It would be hard to imagine since they both really didn't like each other. Jim might know but his lawyers -- (CR is tired and I'm asked to leave) RB: Where are Lee and Shawn? Like why doesn't anyone know where they are?

By late morning CR had stumbled from her meds into a more convivial state. She is told that Jim is still meeting with a lawyer and Robin's on crutches. (sprained ankle) She is offered water, bendy strraws, straight straws, strays with double-joints and ribbed comfrot, blue or red. She wants some orange juice, and a brush for her tangled forest of dark brown hair. She has two mugs of cold tea sitting on a radiator within arm's reach of her bed. The nurses keep forgetting to remove them and its bugging her.


EARLIER...

Snow has altered the land, the wisps of new Srping have tried to burn things, coming full circle.


Why are those boys stampeding, where did you sleep last night? On a railroad track bound and gaged, memorizing scream patterns, the rhythm of the track; this is the sound of regret and anger carried by sneakers along soil awakening underground sororities...(the stingy reclusive comedy of soil scampers below the juvenile skid marks of left print, right print) Crystal steps back.



Dancing doesn't mean much to Shawn. The pantomime often disgusts him. You have to be careful around Shawn sometimes, never know what'll set him off.

I'm not talking. The voice-over is over. The extras: Crystal and Robin still scamper around in the thoughtful summer night, howling with their ice cubes in the heatful summer nights. The voice over matches the shot list: girls in bathroom, girls lighting cigarette, girls laughing in hallway. Two seconds, three seconds, four seconds. CUT.

Screen time. Chelsey laughing: “I bet they cut their dancing out, I can imagine it was bad.”

The evenings and the sunless lids, the evening and its glasses of ice water, becoming autumn, stepping out of a season's pink skin into dark orange, burnt almond.

A knock on my door wakes me it is barely noon a woman's voice says: “Charles, rise and shine,” and I know its Crystal and she's in my front closet or somewhere close to the stairs, near the telephone and oranges and I must have left the door open.

PASTELS ARE PRETTY MUCH THE POLAR OPPOSITE OF CHALK

This is the cover for my new poetry collection due this fall with Punchy Poetry and DC Books. It was edited by Jason Camlot. I'm very excited to present you this synopsis.

Pastels Are Pretty Much The Polar Opposite Of Chalk is about the syntax of distinction, unlikely comparison and the colorful drama that comes with choosing between actions, people and things. Scenarios of rupture are set in malls, bedrooms, tawdry boardwalks, train stations and hospitals, as tinsel rains down slowly in the background. Here Nathaniel G. Moores cryptically majestic language bears witness to staged altercations between hedonism vs. hunger, domesticity vs. pedestrian excess, cross-hatched gesture vs. harsh reality. This book asks questions: Do I like pretzels? What kind of pretzels do I prefer? How do I feel? Would I rather watch a car chase or be in one? What is Golden Flint? Do they sell that at the grocery store? Have I told you the story of when I fell in love with you? Like a psycho smart alec with a velvet tongue, this book provides answers to all the question in wonderfully wrought riddles.

Here's a poem.

THAT'S SO CRITICALLY RANDOM Vol. 1. No. 1

Rev Jen

Troubled Times

Maggs

Nathaniel G. Post

Dinh Ba

Beta Love

Smaller Narrative / The Hospital Is For Sick Children

Wrong Bar

BOWLBRAWL : LEGACY

LILY ALLEN - TWENTY-TWO

In the previous video for The Fear there are bras and a teddy bear on the clothesline. There is a tiny trailer, it turns into a mansion with hard dancing butlers. they carry her across a blue velvet carpet. she runs her thumb and forefinger through her expensive wig/mane. there are expensive hand made chocolates on tables she doesn't eat them. the star of the video just plays flirtatiously with boxes of giant presents. she sings about not knowing what is real and not knowing what to feel and this equates to a singular dread known as the fear. back to the butlers into a line about the war.

CGI tear gas dancing germinates dramatically from the ground as hot cop butlters dance with balloon human forms.

This song, for which I can find no video, seems much more campy and depressing, as if Sloan or the Beatles had accidentally walked into her in the shower. There is also an Addams Family vibe coming across in moments of the organ, perhaps a joke being played on her by the musicians or producers for her remarkable resemblance to Morticia or Wednesday Addams.

When she was 22 the future looked bright
But she's nearly 30 now and she's out every night
I see that look in her face she's got that look in her eye
She's thinking how did I get here and wondering why

It's sad but it's true how society says
Her life is already over
There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say
Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder
It seems so unlikely in this day and age

She's got an alright job but it's not a career
Wherever she thinks about it, it brings her to tears
Cause all she wants is a boyfriend
She gets one-night stands
[ Lily Allen Lyrics are found on www.songlyrics.com ]
She's thinking how did I get here
I'm doing all that I can





It's sad but it's true how society says
Her life is already over
There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say
Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder
It seems so unlikely in this day and age

It's sad but it's true how society says
Her life is already over
There's nothing to do and there's nothing to say
Til the man of her dreams comes along picks her up and puts her over his shoulder
It seems so unlikely in this day and age

HOLLYWOOD NORTH WAR (2009)

Last month it was the accidental death of actress Natasha Richardson's (wife of a Jedi Master) as a result of Quebec's lack of medical helicopter continuity, this month it's good ol' CBC not listening to guests requests (I know from personal experience they refuse to obey anyone who suggests they might not want to talk about certain things during an interview) and subsequently making ourselves sitting ducks for what will become known as OPERATION MASH POTATOES in a war across the largest unprotected border on the planet: HOLLYWOOD NORTH WAR.

He didn't want to talk about the obvious notion that he was a giant movie star. Big deal. Is Canada so petty they can't let the guy sit there talking about his music and just pretend you know that he wasn't in a million movies we've all seen? Is Canada that shallow?

It's simple: one day we'll wake up, go outside there'll be tanks everywhere and we'll just think they're filming a Bruce Willis film, but in reality, they'll be herding us off to the Rogers Centre where we'll build weapons all day so they can round up the surrounding farm communities. Billy Bob is just one of several US informers doing surveys on just how easy the war will be to win. Brad Pitt kissing Angelina goodbye on a navy battleship as he gets into his stealth bomber heading for the CN Tower. "I can't believe I won that round of rock paper scissors, this is going to be a blast!"

Beyond hockey sticks, paper cups, what sort of defense does this country have anyway to project ourself from Depp, Pitt, Bob Thorton or Newhart for that matter.

Beware gravy-less, beware. I for one hate mashed potatoes and gravy, but more importantly will cheer for the US team when they come to tear down this country one apoplectic poutine victim at a time.

OVERQUALIFIED: GLOBE & MAIL

My online review of Joey Comeau's excellent novel in cover letters is up here.

Also at the National Post is my NaPoMo interview.

LAST PRINT ISSUE OF SKYSCRAPER

Pick this issue up, it's the last of its kind...I've written for this magazine for a few years on and off, and just today found out the latest issue is their last in print. It's an amazing magazine that profiles hundreds of indie bands each year, a real shame that once again (like Verbicide in January) another magazine has to go under...

Skyscraper #30 just hit newsstands and includes features on Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, The Thermals, Black Moth Super Rainbow, Comet Gain, Chain and the Gang, Obits, From Monuments to Masses, Mi Ami, Pterodactyl, Mika Miko, Ocean, Zu, The Residents, The (International) Noise Conspiracy, Propagandhi, Japanther, Titus Andronicus, Crystal Antlers, Wavves, Cause Co-Motion!, Harlem Shakes, Sinaloa, and The Spores. Plus the usual plethora of reviews. Also available to order are almost all back issues and merchandise, including t-shits, tote bags, stickers and buttons.

We regret to inform you that Skyscraper Magazine will be suspending publication of the print magazine with the #30/Spring 2009 issue. Skyscraper will be going online exclusively as we plan to move forward with an expansion of the website (www.skyscrapermagazine.com). The transition from print to web will allow Skyscraper to update content weekly, with a soft launch of this format taking place in the next month followed by a full re-launch of the magazine’s website later this year.

Although changes in both the music industry and print publishing, as well as rising printing and postage costs and the general economic climate, have contributed to this decision, ultimately it was a personal one of myself and co-publisher Andrew Bottomley. We have published Skyscraper as a labor of love since day one, so the profitability (or lack thereof) of the magazine was never a deciding factor in our existence. But as we move forward with our personal lives and careers it has been increasingly difficult to dedicate the time necessary to continue publishing Skyscraper as a quarterly print publication.

We’re proud of what Skyscraper has accomplished, and we feel the magazine established a much-needed niche in a media landscape that was interested more in style than substance. The support of our contributors, advertisers and readers allowed us to print 30 issues over the last 11 years, so we’re extremely grateful to have received that opportunity.

CANADIAN POET ON CALL

Canadian Poet On Call
(Blackberry, iPhone can't
crack Canadian Poets market)

Canadian Poetry Month begins on April Fools' Day but the joke may be on the tech phone networks who simply can't crack the Canadian Poetry market. "They don't have much use for a phone. I mean, our studies are showing a significant drop in actual contact to Canadian poets. They also don't make a lot of calls," says one marketing expert at a phone company who shall remain nameless.

However, the Canadian government is reacting in timely style, declaring something big is going to happen to Canadian poetry next year. "Not since Scott Griffin himself announced the creation of the largest prize for poetry will poets be talked about with such prestige and honour," states the missive. "With new buildings, ceremonies and festivities springing up all over the city, sometimes you just need a poet there to read a poem, to bring poise, dignity and respect to a given event, and sometimes they're not available. Mainly because most Canadian poets don't have phones."

LEGENDS OF WRESTLEMANIA

Sometime this week my friend Dragan (yes Bowlbrawl's Dragan) and I will be testing out the greatest wrestling video game of all time: Legends of Wrestlemania. Finally Dragan's dysmorphic wrestling history will have a home, and Koko B. Ware can fight Mr.Perfect any year he wants. Stay tuned for my review, in the meantime, here's the Hitman.

FASHION WEEK & OTHER FASHION ARTICLES

My fashion articles as published in Minimidimaxi

Dinhba

Mark Fast

Barbie

David Dixon

Andrew Majtenyi