Malcolm Azania

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Malcolm Azania (born 1969), also known as Minister Faust, is a Canadian teacher, writer, community activist, radio host and political aspirant.

Sourced[edit]

The Coyote Kings of the Space-Age Bachelor Pad (2004)[edit]

Nominated for the 2004 Philip K. Dick Award. All page numbers from the trade paperback first edition published by Ballantine Books
  • Thursday is practically Friday and Friday is Friday.
    • Chapter 1 “I Wash Dishes for Scumbags” (p. 8)
  • “MAY THE FORCE—”
    “—FEED YOUR HORSE!”
    • Chapter 4 “The Coyote Kings vs. the Whyte Wolves” (p. 31)
  • We challenge ourselves to try at least four new bizarrities in every week’s groceries.
    • Chapter 9 “In Chinatown, Glittering Jackal Tantalizes Coyotes” (p. 61)
  • Loopier than a snake in a garden hose.
    • Chapter 24 “A Glimpse into Wet, Dark Jewels” (p. 147)
  • I’m not saying Hamza’s cheap, but if the only thing standing between our solar system and a fleet of intergalactic enslavers was Hamza’s wallet crunched inside his fist, we’d all be drilling methane wells on Pluto right now.
    • Chapter 28 “Glass Slippers or the Glass Slip?” (p. 160)
  • There’s only two types of people in the world, Ye, weird and boring.
    • Chapter 28 “Glass Slippers or the Glass Slip?” (p. 161)
  • People are so lazy, they want everything to be simple, but nothing is simple. Nothing.
    • Chapter 31 “Saturday Morning Mission” (p. 173)
  • People get accustomed to evil like they get accustomed to smog or noise or graffiti! But it doesn’t change what it is.
    • Chapter 34 “On Good, Evil, Invisible Hands, and the Wind” (p. 192)
  • They’re everything that’s wrong in this instant-coffee and microwave age. ‘I want it now.’ There used to be that romantic image of going off to Tibet and climbing the mountain to speak to the wise man. And when you got to the top, he could tell you the truths of the universe. Now people wanna take a helicopter to the top—or e-mail him!
    • Chapter 34 “On Good, Evil, Invisible Hands, and the Wind” (p. 193)
  • Sky’s so big and dazzling and buzzing and crackling and moaning with all that black silence, I feel like my skull is open to space, all that way-beyond soaking directly into my brain. Stars and stars and stars...some of em planets, some of em satellites. All of em out there, alone, untouchable.
    • Chapter 39 “Telescope to Avalon” (p. 226)
  • All organic. No chemicals here, no way. The red globe grapes, $8.99 a kilo. I take a pawful, pop em, one at a time. They crunch. This is my only wine. This is my Sunday sacrament...sweet and honest and decent. No lies from chemists, or from priests.
    You wanna heal your soul? Step one is healing your soil.
    • Chapter 44 “The Long, Long Drive to Nowhere” (p. 250)
  • It is better not to know and to know that one does not know, than presumptuously to attribute some random meaning to symbols.
    • Chapter 46 “Prelude to the Negative Confession” (p. 260)
  • Good people get hurt—bad people get ahead, get rich, get your girl. Good doesn’t triumph over evil. So, do I believe in God?
    He doesn’t believe in me.
    • Chapter 56 “At Last, the Box, Explained” (p. 319)
  • Good triumphs over evil when it’s better organized, better trained, better armed, sneakier, and gutsier than evil.
    • Chapter 56 “At Last, the Box, Explained” (p. 320)
  • How odd—disturbing, in fact—to hear someone address a god with such profane irreverence. But I suppose that the history of mythology is nothing if not proof that celestials are the instructors of man’s worst sins.
    • Chapter 77 “The Two Sovereigns” (p. 438)
  • Nothing like hope to doom you.
    • Chapter 79 “The Badlands” (p. 457)
  • It’s a special kind of hugging, the kind where deep down you’re facing the unspoken fact that this’s the last time you’re gonna hold somebody, and so you make your cells hold on, make em drink in somebody’s scent and texture, so you can keep em with you after the world has taken em away.
    • Chapter 90 “Unfurl the Sails, Speak the Names of the Stars” (p. 514)
  • I know I’m not the same man I was eight days ago.
    And I know it’s time to find out who I am.
    • Prologue (p. 524; closing words)
  • That uncountable myths and legends and ecclesiastical operas and dirges have at their core, if not in their trappings, near identical mechanisms, performances, and outcomes is proof most solid of the centrality of the panhuman subconscious—or superconscious—experience of the myriad and manifold wonders and terrors of the cosmos.
    • Appendix (p. 525)
  • Much has been dissected from among the myths to explore the significance of the mortal endurance and experience of pain. Pain, we are told, purifies the body, expands the mind, prepares the novice for the tests of life and therefore for initiation into the clan, the sect, the tribe, the gang, the squadron, the priesthood, the academy, the coven, or the board. It is clear that such suppositions regarding physical or emotional pain are true; little more need be said on such matters.
    • Appendix (p. 527)
  • The history of human development can neatly be divided into two epochs: (1) the feminine, yin, agro-sedentary pastoral idyll of the old-to-late Paleolithic Mother-Earth-Goddess religions and (2) the masculine, yang, technomobile hunter-gatherer-warrior field effect of urbanized, late-Neolithic-to-Modern Father-Sky-God religions.
    • Appendix (p. 527)

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