Lorem Ipsum

The Experiment

2008-12-08T12:20:00.001+08:00

So there I was, morose with stupor and drunk with boredom, and the chapel beside my house is filled to the rafters with people who were singing the alleluia and dancing the kumbaya. Closed the windows, drawn the curtains, put on the second Northern Portrait EP, and gaaaaaah THEY'RE INSIDE MY HEAD. So in between shovelfuls of ampalaya I was having for lunch, I suddenly came up with an idea. Go shopping! But wait, it was just 11am. Okay, I patiently waited for the Dela Hobo and Pack- now how do you spell his name - punching game to start airing so that half the population takes a break from loitering the streets, joyriding in the public transportation, and perusing the malls' airconditioning. Yaahoooooooo!

Now I picked that place in San Juan cos hey, it's still a mall. Much as I like bacon, I wasn't particularly fond of the idea of my bag, pockets and guts slashed into strips if I went somewhere um... less mall-y. Besides, it's relatively near my place. The contents of my bag:

1. Half-full (or half-empty) pack of Marlboros.
2. Keys.
3. Notebook where I slipped my electric bill, since I was planning on paying it later.
4. Breath mints.
5. A trade copy of Leaves of Grass.
6. A comb.

Practically empty, eh? So I was barely inside the mall when I had had imitation billabong shit waved at my face from all sides. Merry Christmas! Shoes, bags, shoes, bags, shoes. Miss, can I see that green sneaker? 500?! Please don't rip me off, you bad manang you. How about 150? Etc, etc.

Okay. Green is the new black, they say. Next. Oooo wristwatches. When I was a kid, I wanted to wear two on each wrist. Oooo sunglasses. There's always next summer, no? Ooooo nice socks. Ka-ching, ka-ching! And one can never have enough jackets! Wait, my bag is almost full. And I needed to cool off a bit cos I got irate that someone's bag (I hope) hit me in the nuts. So I started for the exit for a smoke and grabbed a hotdog on the way out. Mmmm tasty. Have I had enough? Nah, there's still lots of crap I neither need nor really really want in here. After all, that's the point of shopping, innit?

So a couple of shirts=mandatory. But then I got lost and ended up in front of a Gap. Gasp! The underwears are on sale! I almost shat. How Christmas-y. Owwwww those striped pink boxers should go well with my cellphone. But I couldn't think of an occasion where only underwears and cellphones are required, so I picked the yellow ones instead. Mmmm and a nice shirt.

Okay, less me, more the rest of humanity. I rummaged for my Moleskine in my bag where I listed the stuff my mother and everybody else wanted me to buy. Let's see: pillowcases, size 26 yellow checkered skinny jeans, more boxer shorts for my brother, blablabla, buybuybuy. Gaaah. Just to top it off, I considered scouring the mall for a Santa, sit on his lap, and have my picture taken. But I was tired na, so I ran out and flailed my hands until a cab pulled over.

So there, it was only when I was fumbling for my keys outside my door when I remembered the electric bill. FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK. I'll worry about it tomorrow. Hm what to do. I unceremoniously dump the contents of my bag on the table and started sifting through the shit. When I got them all out, I sat back for a few moments and quietly admired the multi-colored plastic bags my spanking new belongings came in, and lovingly folded them for future use (in collaboration with the trash bin). Then I stowed the aforementioned belongings... somewhere. Ah, the joys of shopping. Satisfied for the day, I turn on the telly. Now what am I gonna do next weekend.

Diaspora Oratorio

2008-06-20T11:24:00.003+08:00

How long until 2009 again? And this isn't even a finale, it's a mid-season cliffhanger. There will only be four seasons officially, but it will feel like there's five. And that's after the one year break between seasons three and four...

I cannot think of another show on television with a better score. Bear McCreary's compositions in the mid-season cliffhanger "Revelations," especially the haunting choral arrangement, Diaspora Oratorio, is something to remember, especially as it leads to the speech we have been waiting for since the miniseries. I wonder what his plans are for the series finale, no? Bear also makes music for Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (which has been renewed for a second season by the way after only nine season one episodes).

What happened to Earth? Who is the fifth Cylon?

My theory is that the final Cylon is currently not with the fleet. This is according to D'Anna herself, who said that four of the final five are in the fleet. As for the fifth, he/she/it was never mentioned, but it could be possible that it is someone we had already met, but is not with the fleet anymore (e.g. Ellen Tigh, Billy Keikaya, but they're both dead, no?).

Emmy's, here comes Battlestar Galactica! I'm rooting for an acting nomination for both Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonell, an Original Score nomination for Bear McCreary and a toss-up between Paul Edwards (4x09 The Hub) and Michael Rymer (4x10 Revelations) for the Directing catergory. Whoooooo!

A Long And Painful 7 Months

2008-06-03T06:26:00.002+08:00

Excruciating countdown to February 2009.

1. Will the season 5's timeline be grounded in what, up to season 4, are the flash forwards?
2. How will the O6 go back to the island?
3. How/why did Locke/Jeremy Bentham die? Is he really dead or will he manifest a la Christian Shepard, among others?
4. Where and when did the island go after Ben "moved" it?
5. Why can't the "mover" go back to the island?
6. Are Michael and Jin really dead?
7. What happened to Daniel Faraday and the rest of the people in the Zodiac? Were they "moved" along with the island?
8. What happened to Frank Lapidus and Desmond/Penny after they were picked up by the Searcher?
9. What happened to Locke after he became the Others's leader in the island?
10.What did the hieroglyphics written on the walls of the Frozen Wheel room mean?
11.Why did Claire not want Aaron to go back to the island in Kate's dream?
12.Who are the people on Sayid's list and why is he killing them?
13.What happened to the rest of the people on the island when it moved?
14.What were Miles and Charlotte's plans that made them stay on the island?
15.What "bad things" happened in the island after the O6 have left?
16.What is the nature of the four-toed statue?
17.Where did Sayid bring Hurley?
18.If the final two seasons will be set in 2007 and beyond, will it still feature flash forwards?
19.Why are the Dharma Initiative, the Hanso Foundation, the Widmore Corporation and Mittelos Bioscience, as well as Paik Industries, interested in the island?
20.Is there an ancient civilization in the island before the Dharma Initiative, reinforced by Richard Alpert, the hieroglyphics, the Ruins and the Black Rock, among others?

Christopher Doyle Hearts Sigur Rós

2008-05-28T14:49:00.000+08:00

I just about barfed in excitement when I opened my inbox this morning. Christopher Doyle shoots the video for Sigur Rós's new single Gobbledigook from their upcoming album, Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust (to be released 23 June). The single is available for download (MP3, 320 kbps) from the official website or Eighteen Seconds Before Sunrise. You can watch the video from the official website as well (need QuickTime plugin).

Interestingly, Gobbledigook sounds very different from usual Sigur Rós fare. The tribal rythms, the pastoral acoustic guitar (which, apparently, the band now likes after Hvarf-Heim), Jónsi's falsetto and Georg, Orri and Kjartan's ethereal music all blend together to create a childlike atmosphere of wonder and innocence. Think Hoppípola with tribal rythms and more percussion than usual.

The video contains adult content, since Ryan McGinley is involved in the production, which automatically means lots of naked people. Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust will be the first Sigur Rós release with a track not written in Icelandic (or sung in Hopelandic). Jónsi singing in English whooooooooooo.

Track list:
1. gobbledigook
2. inní mér syngur vitleysingur
3. góðan daginn
4. við spilum endalaust
5. festival
6. suð í eyrum
7. ára bátur
8. illgresi
9. fljótavík
10. straumnes
11. all alright

Fatso

2008-04-29T17:19:00.000+08:00

I can count the number of times I’ve stepped on a weighing scale in my entire life. Not that I’m afraid of what I’d see; it’s just that I didn’t care. I think the last time was in 2001; I was with some friends on a particularly slow night – Vinzz, Nijan, Arjay, Bobby, I think Johan was with us too, I couldn’t remember. We weren’t doing anything and we just thought we’d weigh ourselves to pass the time. What I did remember was how much I weighed: 112 lbs. Quite normal considering my age. Since then, I put on more and more pounds and just kept adding about 5 pounds on my estimated weight each year.

Then last week, I found myself on a weighing scale. Net weight: 146 lbs. Three pounds away from being officially overweight. The other numbers startled me more than the weight though.

2.2% in excess of the (upper bound) normal fat index
4 lbs. in excess of the (upper bound) normal fat mass
0.5 kg/m²shy of the (upper bound) normal BMI
I have high blood pressure; considerably lower than hypertension levels, but no laughing matter either, since it exceeded the supposed to be normal values

I’ll cut down on…something (maybe). I don’t want to die before May 2010, which is when Lost will conclude its sixth and final season.

Q1

2008-04-01T16:21:00.000+08:00

January: Throw Me The Statue

Wistful bedroom pop to start the year. It's generally just Scott (the one on the right holding the guitar instead of silly number cards), but I like this photo showing the rest of the band. The single About To Walk is just about the first great thing that happened to me this 2008. Then I heard Lolita. And Yucatan Gold. And The Happiest Man On This Plane. And (or I can just put up the entire tracklist of their album Moonbeams, eh?). Check it out at Secretly Canadian.

Lyrics from About To Walk

Favourite space is a palindrome
Where I tuck in the cannonball
And I never have to share
And where nobody can see
Well, I was just about to walk
Five miles in a day
Shame is always bathed in light
And it always looks the same

Strange nights locked inside
I was waiting for a road ahead
I was lying in my Western bed
Clues and clues dressed in white
Double dreams tend to ?
After all with the evening goes
‘Cause they were only there to break my toes

February: Los Campesinos!

I just love silly boy-girl tweepop. Or anything silly, boy-girl or tweepop or any combination of the three.

Lyrics from Death to Los Campesinos!

You've been broken down I go
(war economy)
father führer, don't be mad at me
peasant child, you're into botany
splitting necks and calling the dichotomy
'BEWARE' the sign on the door suggests -
I'm better off with artificial intelligence

I invented you
(I invented you)
AND I WILL DESTROY YOU.

If you catch me with my hands in the till
I promise, sugar, I wasn't trying to steal
I'm just swimming in copper
to smell and pretend
like a robot!

March: Days

Sweden (Gothenburg especially) is becoming in the 2000s what Glasgow was in the 1990s. The first EP from Days has just been released, and I can't wait for the full album. Go to Fraction Discs.

I want these sweats!

2008-03-25T17:22:00.002+08:00

Look at what Beans is wearing! I don't like the color though. I think it'd look good in pink, with The Life Pursuit in uhhhh....black? Certainly not the other way around though. I've never owned anything pink, but this one is a worthy exception. Let's see if it works with other colors: orange: gahhhd; red: no!; black: nyah!; blue: booooring; purple: what am i, a frakking sideshow?; white: wtf?!; grey: i guess it'll work.

How To Be A Pop Kid

2008-03-12T16:09:00.002+08:00

K emailed this link from WikiHow, which I thought was something worth annotating.

How To Be A Pop Kid

Pop is a genre that has been around for a very, very long time. Everyone reasonable knows that pop is the best music genre. WHAT? There are other music genres?!

Steps

Start listening to lots of music. Music is the most important part of being a pop kid. You should explore twee, c86, shoegaze, fey pop, anorak, and noise pop. Eh, of course. Fuck me I'm twee
Dress however you want, it's not that important. However, dressing in cardigans, corduroys, anoraks, and band shirts will help other pop kids identify you. I love corduroys.
Wearing badges (also called pins) is also helpful. Pastels badges can be especially useful. A Pastels badge started Talulah Gosh, so who knows what could happen! Hmm, that's an idea, but I'm not doing that yet.
Start a band. What, I can't go solo?
Write a fanzine.
Maintain a LiveJournal way past its expiration date. Multiply in lieu of LJ.
When you enter your thirties be sure to only listen to records that came out in your twenties. (ex: if you are 35 now only listen to stuff from Kindercore, Sarah, etc.).
Have a boyfriend/girlfriend who looks just like you. Not the way you dress (which will certainly be identical) but actually looks like you (i.e. nose, body shape, etc.)
Familiarize yourself with commonly referenced songs. (such as "Throw Aggi Off The Bridge" by Black Tambourine, "Anorak City" by Another Sunny Day, "Pop Songs Your New Boyfriend Is Too Stupid To Know About" by Tullycraft, etc) Listen to the rest of the songs by these bands, too, of course. Tullycraft is yay and other basic Pop 101 bands like Heavenly, Beat Happening and Tiger Trap. My reference is "I Have The Password For Your Shell Account" by Barcelona.
Become hopelessly in love with a particular record label and talk about them dreamily to people who probably do not care or know what your talking about. (a pop kid favorite is Sarah Records). No more Sarah and K Records, B&S have left Jeepster, right now I'm mental about Saddle Creek.
Join the indiepop list and make friends. Facebook gots lots.
Try to persuade countless friends to listen to pop with mixtapes. (or CDs if you're digitally inclined) Be crushed when they don't listen to them. CDs. 150 pop songs all at once. And I do actually get crushed when I ask them about it and I get the "haven't listened to 'em yet" answer.
Remember that stripes never go out of pop style! Yay. Got lotsa stripes. Even horizontal ones. *shiver*
Wear 1 billion buttons on whatever bag you're carrying. When you change bags take your buttons off and apply them to the new one. Repeat.
Make really, really little stickers to advertise whatever it is you are involved with (zine, label, mini-comic)
Have a crush on a boy/girl who doesn't know you exist. Write songs about it.

Tips

Being a fan of public transportation is important, trains in particular. LRT line 2
Have vague ambitions of moving to Glasgow. (note: if you live in Glasgow, have vague ambitions of moving Somewhere Else... Bristol or Sheffield, maybe?). 1. Glasgow; 2. Gothenburg; 3. Vancouver; 4. Patagonia; 5. Cork
Always remember that wherever you are is never as great as where you talk about wanting to be (EX: if you live in the US, Canada is always better; If you live on the East Coast, the West Coast is always better. Good pop cities are Athens and Olympia). Same as above
If anyone ever compliments something you're wearing never, ever admit to buying it. Always tell them, "I made it."
A lot of your indiepop days might be kind of lonely, so fill them with other hobbies besides zinemaking and band-doing! Examples include trainspotting, shoegazing, knitting, looking at bridges, trying to draw the Sarah Records or K Records logo JUST RIGHT, daydreaming, mixtaping, taking long walks while listening to the Field Mice, and arts and crafts.
Buy a duffle coat. Now.

Warnings

You might get beat up by skinheads or punks...actually, you might get beat up by EVERYONE. Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Matt Haynes might break your chin
It might be near impossible to find popkid friends that aren't Internet Friends From Faraway Places. Not entirely (hello K), but most of them are, and the correspondence is fun.
You will probably get made fun of, especially if you are in Britland
If you are in Britland, avoid the term "twee", as some people find it offensive
Popkids are either completely sexless or complete sex fiends. There is no middle ground. Sexless

Things You'll Need

Lots of money to buy records. Or an internet connection, unless records as in vinyl
Determination
A broken heart and a nice haircut Broken heart, no; nice haircut, maybe.
Saropoly

One Tough Editor

2008-03-03T14:43:00.001+08:00

Jerrie Abella for University Student Council Chairperson

Running the Philippine Collegian is one thankless job. Aside from the nerve-wracking, pressure-packed pressworks that writers and artists deal with on a weekly basis, its editors are burdened with almost impossible, inhuman expectations. The least that they have to be worried about are the rules of grammar (in both languages), which they are assumed to have firm grasp of. They are required by the job to have extraordinary acuity and keenness in analyzing social, political and cultural events. Equally as important, of course, editors have to have a fully developed creative imagination, not to mention, impeccable taste.

It is undeniably one of the most demanding jobs on campus, where mere mortals fear to tread.

It does not surprise us, therefore, that one of Collegian’s editors – current editor-in-chief, no less – has decided to tread the path of campus politics. He is on familiar ground, for sure. He is vying for one job where his wit and intelligence, superior leadership skills, creative imagination and, well, impeccable taste, can be put to best use.

We are talking, of course, about Jerrie Abella.

As an astute observer of campus politics for many years, Jerrie has acquired an encyclopedic knowledge of its ins and outs. Trained as a news reporter, he has interviewed and conversed with university administrators and professors, instructors and employees, residents and students – stakeholders all in the business of running a student council.

Anyone familiar with how a usual Collegian presswork grinds out knows how tough one must be to be able to go through the entire process with his or her sanity intact. From planning the issue to going through the rigorous editing to the painstaking laying out of the pages, Jerrie has successfully led one of the best Collegian pool of editors, writers and artists in years. This feat is due in no small measure to Jerrie’s leadership.

Make no mistake, too: Jerrie is also an impassioned activist. His heart has always been in the right place – the Collegian’s advocacies are testament to that. During the last school year, Jerrie was among the editors who assiduously fought administration intervention in the paper’s fiscal affairs while coming up with creative ways to deliver the news to the students. The Collegian’s past term and the current one were also most valiant in exposing and criticizing the utter underhandedless with which the UP administration passed the tuition hike. Jerrie’s term has also kept vigil of updates on the whereabouts of missing UP students Sherlyn Cadapan and Karen Empeño, as well as other disappeared victims of state fascism.

It goes without saying, too, that the Collegian under his term has been most passionate in bringing to the student fore national issues, from demolition of urban poor communities to the national movement to oust the sitting President.

Jerrie has also been actively involved with the College Editors Guild of the Philippines and Solidaridad, the UP System-wide Alliance of Student Publications and Writers’ Organizations – of which he is the Secretary General – organizing national conventions and meetings for skills training, building and sustaining networks for the promotion of campus press freedom and advocacy journalism.

We have to admit, though: Jerrie is biased. But only because he favors seeing social problems from the point-of-view of the majority of poor and dispossessed Filipinos. He is biased for the students, and makes sure that every ink that he pens will reflect its objective interests and aspirations. He is biased for what is true. Yes, as a journalist, he is obliged to be objective and fair, and the pages of the Collegian in many ways reflect that. But more than being an observer, Jerrie is an activist and a student leader. More than being a mere chronicler of events, he is completely engaged in the conflict of our times.

Fortunately for us, he is on our side.

This coming election, we, former Philippine Collegian editors, urge you to vote JERRIE ABELLA, for chairperson of the University Student Council.

Signed:

Jayson DP Fajarda, Editor in Chief, 2004-2005

Ellaine Rose A. Beronio, Editor in Chief, 2002-2003

Kenneth Roland A. Guda, Features Editor, 2000-2001

Lisa Cariño Ito, Associate Editor, 2000-2002

Margaret P. Yarcia, Features Editor, 2006-2007

Katrina Angela R. Macapagal, Associate Editor, 2006-2007

Joan ME Salvador, Associate Editor, 2002-2003

Kendrick T. Bautista, Graphics Editor, 2004-2005

Divina Nova Joy D. Dela Cruz, News Editor, 2003-2005

Rouelle T. Umali, Graphics Editor, 2006-2007

Jeeu Christopher A. Gonzales, Culture Editor, 2006-2007

Wendell M. Gumban, News Editor, 2004-2005

Routine Maintenance

2008-02-18T16:15:00.000+08:00

I was doing routine maintenance of my iTunes library this weekend, and by that I mean adding new tracks and removing stuff that by now, I practically despise. I happened to notice some semi-old (not old material but stuff I added quite some time ago) albums and suddenly realised that while I did a countdown of my favourite songs of 2007, I did not pick my favourite albums released that year. It's a nice thing, because it's been a few months since I last listened to any of these. And here they are, about two months too late, my albums of 2007. So right now, I'm a happy little guy singing along to Falling Off Of My Feet Again, My Little Japanese Cigarette Case and Upon Encountering the Crippled Elephant. And I like the weather lately too. Hm.

1. The Lucksmiths - Spring A Leak (B-sides)

2. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible

3. Patrick Wolf - The Magic Position

4. Bright Eyes - Cassadaga

5. Damien Dempsey - To Hell Or Barbados

6. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Some Loud Thunder

7. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

8. Jens Lekman - Night Falls Over Kortedala

9. Jose Gonzalez - In Our Nature

10. The New Pornographers - Challengers

11. The National - Boxer

12. The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters

The Lists of 2007

2008-01-01T08:13:00.000+08:00

2006 was The Year of Doing Nothing. Now, it is The Year of Not Talking. So I listened, watched, read and played instead.

Arcade Fire – Black mirror
Brian Eno – St. Elmo’s fire
Bright Eyes – If the brakeman turns my way
Broken Social Scene – 7/4 shoreline
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – The skin of my yellow country teeth
The Cure – Pictures of you
The Cliks – Oh yeah
Cold War Kids – Hang me up to dry
David Ford – Go to hell
Damien Dempsey – Killburn
Damien Rice – The professor
The Decemberists – Eli, the barrow boy
Feist – My moon, my man
Her Space Holiday – The doctor and the DJ
if:then:goto – Gentlemen
Iron and Wine – Innocent bones
Isobel Campbell – Amorino
Jason Collett with Paso Mino – Hangover days (featuring Feist)
Jens Lekman – I saw her at the anti-war demonstration
Jose Gonzalez – Killing for love
Josh Rouse – Directions
Joy Division – Atmosphere
Kings of Convenience – Cayman islands
LCD Soundsystem – All my friends
The Lucksmiths – From Macaulay station
The Magnetic Fields – No one will ever love you
Maria Taylor – The ballad of Sean Foley (featuring Conor Oberst)
Metric – Down
Nato and Sarah – Here’s where the story ends
The New Pornographers – Challengers
Northern Room – We’re on fire
Owen – In the morning, before work
Panda Bear – Comfy in Nautica
Paolo Nutini – These streets
Peter Bjorn and John – Young folks
Rilo Kiley – With arms outstretched
The Siddeleys – Falling off of my feet again
Sigur Ros – Milano
The Slip – Children of December
The Smiths – There is a light that never goes out
Sondre Lerche – Stupid memory
Spoon – My little Japanese cigarette case
Teenage Fanclub – Nowhere going
Tegan and Sara – Walking with a ghost
Timo Raisanen – Bollen maste do
The Twilight Sad – That summer, at home, I had become the invisible boy
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – Into the great wide open
VHS or Beta – Can’t believe a single word
Yo La Tengo – Beanbag chair
The XYZ Affair - Academics

This is not a list of the best of 2007 – most aren’t even released this year. Narrowing down the songs that defined my year was quite daunting, considering that I had thousands to choose from. I even have to arrange them alphabetically since I really can’t decide which songs I liked more than the others. A year is a long time, playlist creation-wise, and there’s so much good music out there that I don’t even have the time to listen to them all. Like books and DVDs, I find myself archiving music designated as “future listening,” but then of course, I’d by the time I finally have the time, I already have so much new material that I end up forgetting about the previous batch. And while I’m on the subject of movies:

Control (Anton Corbijn)
Wild Strawberries (Ingmar Bergman)
Three Colors: White (Krzysztof Kieslowski)
I’m Not There (Todd Haynes)
Volver (Pedro Almodovar)
Paris Je T’aime (Various)
Southland Tales (Richard Kelly)
Cache (Michael Haneke)
Brick (Rian Johnson)
Inland Empire (David Lynch)
Videodrome (David Cronenberg)
Dogville (Lars von Trier)
The Squid and the Whale (Noah Baumbach)
Goodbye Lenin (Wolfgang Becker)
The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)
Last Days (Gus van Sant)
This Strange Passion (Luis Bunuel)
La Luna (Bernardo Bertolucci)
The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky)
Perfume: Story of a Murderer (Tom Tykwer)

The list is much shorter, but unlike in music, the top five in this list are actually my top five of 2007 (the rest are random). Something funny about the top two is that Control was released this year, while Wild Strawberries was released in 1957 - a difference of exactly 50 years. Only a quarter of this list were movies that were actually released this year (Control, I’m Not There, Paris Je T’aime, Southland Tales and Perfume). Now here’s what’s even funnier:

Neal Stephenson – Cryptonomicon
J.G. Ballard – Super-Cannes
Douglas Coupland – Jpod
Stephen King – Lisey’s Story
Koji Suzuki – Birthday
Donald Kingsbury – Psychohistorical Crisis
Ian McEwan – Atonement
Alastair Reynolds – Revelation Space
Jack Kerouac – Big Sur
Poul Anderson – Going for Infinity

The list is getting shorter, and as it happens, none of these books were released in 2007 (Jpod and Lisey’s Story were published in 2006 though).

Final Fantasy V (SNES)
Silent Hill (PlayStation)
Metroid (NES)
The Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth (PC)
Final Fantasy Tactics (PlayStation)

The shortest list comes last, and it is certainly emulator year as I played (or played again, in 3 cases out of 5) games from old consoles. Hopefully though, more developers will release games for PlayStation 3 in 2008 (especially the long-awaited Silent Hill 5), and I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of buying the console (Haw! Significant price drop, last time I checked). But ouch, PS3 + HDTV + Blu-ray games = pricey. Maybe 2008 will be The Year of Not Eating, eh?

Woman Like A Man

2007-10-01T17:00:00.000+08:00

or Look again, because…Kaylee is a dude!

Give me some credit; I grew up with dogs, and didn’t particularly care about cats – not until I adopted Kira more than a year ago. Since then, the feline population in my house ballooned by 300%. So, not having a lot of interaction with cats before, I assumed they were all female…After all, dogs are dudes and cats are chicks, right?

Inspection #1: Easy/lucky/free

Thursday night: Val sent a text message informing me that the next prod meet for Laura will be at the Cheeky Apartments the following day. When I arrived, Ellaine wasn’t ready yet and left me to my devices downstairs. Kokoro and Smilla greeted me at the door. Isabelle was nowhere to be seen. I played with Smilla for a while (knowing by experience that Kokoro is a snub), stroking his soft fur and marveling at its shade of orange, when an idea struck me. I lifted a hind paw and ogled his privates. Hmmm…Smilla is a guy? Why does it look like this? Kokoro, come here…I dangled the neck strap of my mobile phone as bait. He bought it and swatted half-heartedly at the Weird Piece of Dangling Thing. I reached out, lifted him up (which earned me a few good kicks all over my arms and torso, that cat could kick!) and looked at the same anatomical region as I did with Smilla. Same, huh. So that’s what a kitty dick looks like? I thought penises were tube-like appendages hanging out the pubic region, flanked with a pair of testicles in the background. After all, I’ve lived with one for 22 years now, and doggy dicks are basically the same. So…

Interlude: Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars

I named Kira after Major (later Colonel) Kira Nerys, the Bajoran representative in Deep Space Nine. Moreover, I was in too deep Neverwinter Nights when I adopted her, and I gave my character the same name. (In the subsequent expansion packs Shadows of Undrentide and Hordes of the Underdark, I named by characters Britney Spears [Shadows of Undrentide was rather ho-hum] and William Shakespeare [Star Trek is littered with Shakespeare quotes and references, with Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country being a weird interpretation/appropriation of Hamlet]. I haven’t had the chance to check out Neverwinter Nights 2 and its expansion pack Mask of the Betrayer yet, but I’d name my character Benjamin Linus if ever I get around to it.) When another three cats popped up upstairs one summer day, I named them Kaylee, Inara and Zoë, after the three females in the short-lived Firefly. Inara’s nickname is Tiger because; well…she looks like one.

Inspection #2: Girls just wanna have fun

When I got home a little past 1pm, four hungry cats greeted me with more than slight irritation. I poured a generous amount of cat food in their bowls and refilled another with fresh water. Not long after, the feeding frenzy was over and the same four cats, now with full bellies, came sauntering in my room. Hmm…inspection time. I expected the worst. First, I lifted Kira (and got a few good kicks as well) and looked. Nah, different. Next, Inara. Same with Kira. Now that’s 50%. The David Lynch-ian doom cloud that has followed me all morning began to lift a bit. Come here, Zoë…Ouch! Her (yeah, her) claws were out. That cat sure is a bitch. For the final check-up, and the one I’ve been dreading…Kaylee, come cuddle with daddy for a bit, would you? Ever the cuddliest of the four of them, Kaylee unwittingly obliged, unaware of the danger that awaits this time. I carefully pried a hind paw. Kaylee looked at me apprehensively and gave a small you-are-so-making-me-uncomfortable meow. Summoning up all my courage, I looked. Eeeeep! Same with Kokoro and Smilla. Kaylee is a dude! They are night zombies! They are neighbors! They have come back from the dead! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!

Coda: Space oddity

How can I call her…uhm…him Kaylee now? Shall I shorten it to Lee? After all, there’s a Major Lee “Apollo” Adama in Battlestar Galactica…

Our Movie Month

2007-09-16T16:56:00.000+08:00

I say our, because that includes Kira, Kaylee, Inara and Zoe, collectively known as the Four Fat Felines of Frat House II. That being said, Harvey Pekar wrote a book (comics actually) that chronicled the making of American Splendor called Our Movie Year (our being Harvey, his wife Joyce and foster daughter Danielle). While I’m not making a movie of my own, I’ve seen a lot of them the past month – a lot of them really good ones that I considered writing reviews for each one I liked. However, such an activity is daunting, and my attention span is constantly being stolen by Final Fantasy, chess and the obscene amount of music I’ve downloaded the past few months that I have yet to listen to. So here are short reviews of some of those films. Obviously, I didn’t write about ALL of the movies I’ve seen (who writes reviews for films like Evil Dead, Evil Dead 2 and Evil Dead 3 anyway?!).

In alphabetical order:

2001: A space odyssey (1968)
Stanley Kubrick
UK/USA

Forty years on, 2001 still doesn’t look dated, like many old science fiction movies. I’ve seen this twice before, the last time maybe four years ago. This time, I paid more attention to the first and fourth movements – primeval Africa and the Star Child. Hal is a delight as usual - I even named my computer after him. And he beats me at chess half the time. Maybe my old laptop is finally exhibiting evidence of sentience?

Brick (2005)
Rian Johnson
USA

I don’t know how to begin describing this film. Films that are actually this fresh are rare; most films focus on performance, execution, photography and other production details. Brick is different. A homage to Dashiell Hammett, Brick fuses film noir language with contemporary slang to create a perplexing and equally mysterious atmosphere. You have to go all the way back to Richard Kelly’s 2002 film Donnie Darko to find a point of reference. Even then, Brick and Donnie Darko doesn’t have much in common. It’s just different. Not David Lynch-ish weird, but definitely something else. I can’t get any more specific than that. I just wish they gave Emilie de Ravin (the adorable Claire Littleton in Lost) more screen time though.

Carne trémula (Live flesh) [1997]
Pedro Almodovar
Spain

There’s nothing like Spanish melodrama to liven up a rainy Sunday morning. Sex, guns and lies – the perfect recipe. Carne trémula starts with Penelope Cruz giving birth in a bus (her only scene in the film), and ends with her adult son finding redemption after witnessing a bloody carnage in the name of love. Almodovar must have liked Cruz so much that he gave her increasingly larger roles in his later films Todo sobre mi madre and Volver. Javier Bardem (the paraplegic in Mar adentro) plays a wheelchair-bound former cop who seeks revenge, but when he finally gets it, it was not the kind that he expected.

Control (2007)
Anton Corbijn
UK

I’ll put this up there with the best films shot in black and white. Music photographer Anton Corbijn’s directorial debut is a biographical film about Ian Curtis (1956-1980), Joy Division’s enigmatic vocalist. Beautifully photographed, Control captured the working class aura of late 1970s Scotland. In a time when the anger and shock of punk music dominated the airwaves, Joy Division focused instead on mood and atmosphere; watching Control is like listening to a Joy Division song. Listen to Atmosphere and you’ll see what I mean (which is also the closing song of the film, and an absolutely brilliant choice). The visuals are breathtaking, the performances astounding and the music just plain awesome. The only boo-boo I can think of is playing The Killers’ cover of Shadowplay during the end credits. Joy Division and The Killers? Mon dieu. My primary blog experienced a deluge of traffic since I included Control in my Bag of Death list, many of them coming from a search engine with various permutations of the search terms Control, Corbijn, torrent, download, stream. Sorry folks. Control was released in the UK last August and will be available to US viewers on October 5. Until then, don’t walk away in silence.

Fast food nation (2006)
Richard Linklater
USA

Industry-thrashing films rarely work, and this one is no exception. The target: the fast food industry. Fast food nation is boring and incoherent, although the revelations about fast food practices are still disconcerting. Excellent performance by Catalina Sandino Moreno (Paris, je t’aime, Maria full of grace) though.

Insomnia (1997)
Erik Skjoldbjærg
Norway

I regret that I’ve already seen Christopher Nolan’s remake (set in Alaska) before I purchased this DVD. While I am a Nolan fan, I wasn’t impressed by his remake. The original is tighter, the narrative moving in bang-bang-bang shots of revelations, and many unnecessary plot devices inserted in the remake are absent. It is also less dramatic (fewer people running around chasing each other). I’m not particularly fond of detective stories (I skipped Hardy Boys and jumped straight to Stephen King when I was a kid), but I recognize a brilliant piece of detective fiction when I see/read one. And Stellan Skarsgård is waaay better than Al Pacino.

Leon the professional (1994)
Luc Besson
France

Watching a 12, maybe 14 year old Natalie Portman say “…except he’s not really my father (referring to Jean Reno). He’s my lover” will send anyone to fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Mamma Roma (1962)
Pier Paolo Pasolini
Italy

An early Pasolini film that, according to the blurb, is about Mamma Roma, a “middle-aged prostitute who attempts to extricate herself from her sordid past for the sake of her son.” Filmed in the tradition of Italian neorealism, Mamma Roma is nothing spectacular, as are films in this movement, but rather dealt with the downtrodden and the oppressed. A good Pasolini starter for those not ready for Caligula and Salo.

Match point (2005)
Woody Allen
USA/UK

Woody Allen movies are always a delight, and in Match point, the metaphor is tennis and the characters are in too deep the world of the British elite. While it starts off as fun, the tension thickens as the plot unravels and never lets up until the startling conclusion. I wonder why Scarlett Johansson always plays stupid-ish characters?

The prestige (2006)
Christopher Nolan
USA/UK

I’ve seen this before, but it’s the kind of film one would like to watch every now and then. Come to think of it, there are a lot of hints about the final revelation all throughout the movie. You just don’t notice it because you’re not watching closely.

Paris, je t’aime (2006)
Various directors
France

Where do I begin? At first, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this film, but wanted to see how the pieces fit together. Well, they didn’t. But I liked a lot of them well enough that I can’t even decide which of them I like best. Is it Tuileries by the Coen brothers or Faubourg Saint-Denis? After all, Steve Buscemi and Natalie Portman are impeccable. But I also like Alexander Payne’s 14eme arrondissement and Olivier Assayas’ Quartier des Enfants Rouges. Ah, and Christopher Doyle’s Porte de Choisy, that’s really awesome. That’s what you get for hiring a cinematographer to direct. I think I'll wear out this DVD from playing over and over again.

Le violon rouge (The red violin) (1998)
Francois Girard
Canada/Italy

Not much to say. Only the gradual unraveling of the events of the auction in Montreal is particularly enjoyable, and only then because of the suspense.

Sex, lies and videotape (1989)
Steven Soderbergh
USA

I don’t know why I bought this DVD. The only Soderbergh film I even remotely like is Traffic – most of the others are…well, I didn’t even bother to watch (Who watches films like Ocean’s Thirteen anyway?). I like James Spader though (that dweeb from the Stargate film); he’s unintentionally funny. I endured the film, though I didn’t particularly enjoy it. I just liked the videotape perversion. Or maybe I just like perverted films.

A short film about killing (1988)
Krzysztof Kieślowski
Poland

One word: dark. I haven’t seen Dekalog, but based on A short film about killing, I’m almost sure that it’s something I would definitely be on the lookout for.

Solo con tu pareja (1991)
Alfonso Cuaron
Mexico

The most remarkable thing about Alfonso Cuaron’s first film is not even related to directing. It is Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography. The plot itself is tongue in cheek funny. The DVD included two short films from Cuaron and his brother Carlos (who wrote Solo con tu pareja). Both are bad.

The squid and the whale (2005)
Noah Baumbach
USA

I thought at first, ah another one of those Dysfunctional Families kind of movie. Then I watched it and was surprised at the utter boldness of it. Some portions are so funny that I had to hit pause on the remote and wait until I’ve calmed myself enough to continue watching.

Tras el cristal (In a glass cage) [1987]
Agustín Villaronga
Spain

Think a darker and more perverse Apt Pupil. All throughout the film’s run of a little over an hour and a half, I gravitated from being on the verge of puking in fear and crying in disgust and back again.

Volver (2006)
Pedro Almodovar
Spain

In Volver, Almodovar takes on death, incest and coming home. Funny, but after all those revelations, how can you still laugh?

The next week or so, this is what’s lined up. My supply is running out. I might have to go DVD-hunting again by the end of the week.

Bande à part (Band of outsiders) [1964]
Jean-Luc Godard
France

Barry Lyndon (1975)
Stanley Kubrick
UK

Delicatessen (1991)
Jean-Pierre Jeunet
France

Inland empire (2006)
David Lynch
France/Poland/USA

Das leben der anderen (The lives of others) [2006]
Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
Germany

North by northwest (1959)
Alfred Hitchcock
USA

Tick Tock

2007-09-05T20:31:00.000+08:00

Nothing like idle time – too much of it – to drive me out of my wits. I spend half my time either reading or watching movies; at least I caught up with my reading. Even then, boredom still sets in. I found a nasty little program that drove me crazy though. It’s called Bridge Building Game, and it…well, it lets me build bridges on a given topography with a fixed budget. Then I’d have to run a train over my creation to test the stress. If the train successfully made it to the other side, I advance to the next level. The first few levels were rather easy, but as I went further, the topography got more and more difficult. Engr. Jeeu, how’s that?

Then there’s chess. I play against the computer, and damn, it’s good. I started with the “dumbest setting,” and I’ve progressed through 12 points. Twenty-one to go and I’d probably be good enough to challenge a chess master haha. The only thing that’s driving me crazy is that when playing against the computer at its highest level, it’s awfully slooooow in making its moves, even if it’s just an obvious en passant or castles or pawn to pawn exchange. I don’t mind slow opponents, but looking at the monitor while waiting for the computer to move is infuriating. I’d still prefer a live person over a computer.

Next is code. In the past I’ve tired learning C++ using pirated books. I’ve progressed enough to learn the syntax, debug bits of pre-written code and even write some calculations. Well, I’ve decided to be even more primitive and backtrack to C. I may not be able to write my own version of Quake, but there’s nothing like hundreds of lines of code compiling and finally running to make me feel like I’ve learned something.

Now, dunnet. Dunnet is a text adventure game written in Lisp and originated from ancient Unix terminals. Newer Macs using the Unix architecture has Dunnet embedded in them, but I don’t have one of those, so I access the game through emacs, which is a pretty damn good text editor. I’ve reached the maze tunnels, but I keep getting lost, which is irritating. The first time I played it, I got eaten by a grizzly bear. Beats Doom and Warcraft though.

Then there’s Enterprise (see related post). Nothing like Star Trek to pass the time, eh?

Finally, a Battlestar Galactica rewatch. Season Four’s not until January, and while there’s Battlestar Galactica: Razor a bit later this year, that’s a flashback about Battlestar Pegasus and won’t really advance the plot from the third season finale’s mind-numbing cliffhanger. Come sing with me: There must be some way out of here/Said the joker to the thief/There’s too much confusion/I can’t get no relief…I wonder if Bob Dylan himself bothered to watch the show? Who is the twelfth Cylon? What are the repercussions of the “awakening” of the four of the final five Cylons? Are they sleeper agents as well? What the hell is up with Starbuck? Will Apollo regain his commission? What will Adama do? Is President Roslin going to die? What’s with Roslin, Boomer and Caprica’s visions of the Opera House with Hera? Do I have hair lice? Does toilet water swirl clockwise or counterclockwise in Australia? Am I a bowling ball dreaming I’m a plate of sashimi?

Other distractions – a handful of SNES games like Chrono Trigger (see related post), Clock Tower, Super Metroid, Zelda, Final Fantasy. Seventeen days, three job offers (all of which I rejected for different reasons), four fat cats, dozens of DVDs and an overheating laptop from too much use. I must have seen a hundred movies the past two weeks. I need to get out.

A whorehouse called Starbucks

2007-09-05T20:28:00.000+08:00

Let’s get the wholesome stuff out of the way first. Imagine a typical Jolibbee, but replace some stuff: instead of Chickenjoy, frappuccino; instead of hamburger, fancy-looking pastries; instead of Coca-cola products (would you like to upgrade?), bottles of Evian water; instead of service crew, baristas; instead of bright orange chairs, couches. Voila! a typical Starbucks – the fastfood of coffee houses.

Like any typical twenty-something, I like coffee. But I’ve never been a fan of Starbucks, the most popular (ergo, ubiquitous) coffee house of them all. Here’s an exercise: prowl the length of Ayala Avenue and count all the Starbucks you can see. Blech. When I want a cup of overpriced gourmet coffee, I usually prefer the quieter but pricier Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf or Seattle’s Best. I like the local franchise Figaro, but their branches at the only malls I frequent (Gateway and Megamall) are indoors, so no chance of that since I’m not drinking coffee without a pack of Marlboros on the table.

My Starbucks-derision magnified a hundred fold a few days ago. I was to meet Glen Dale for coffee at Shangrila; we usually met at Seattle’s Best Megamall, but we thought of going somewhere else that night. I nixed the idea of Coffee Bean Ortigas Park (!) because the weather was unpredictable and Glen Dale had to come from work somewhere in San Miguel Avenue. So we decided to meet at a Starbucks in Shangrila (just meet there, not have coffee there) since I don’t go there frequently and don’t exactly know what and where things are.

I arrived at Starbucks around 8:45 pm, too early (we were supposed to meet at 9:20), but I had a book so it wasn’t much of a bother. All the tables outside were occupied, so I went inside, plopped down on one of the couches and immersed myself in nadsat. Ten minutes later, I had the uncontrollable urge to light up, so I grabbed my bag and jacket and went out the door. A throng of call center-types were just about to leave, so I was relieved that at least, I can have my smokes in comfort.

The lights were dim outside, and people were coming and going so I gave up on reading and put the book back in my bag. I was exchanging SMS with Jimmy, pressuring him to join us. It started to rain, but my table was a bit on the safe side, so I just looked amusingly at more call center-types scrambling for cover, grabbing their espressos and frappuccinos and dashing inside. Three fags, one of them carrying a large blue mattress, made a pit stop to my table (it was a four-seater and I was alone). I ignored them and kept on fiddling with my mobile phone. The gay pride march soon went inside and was replaced by two middle-aged women. I ignored them as well. Their car arrived soon after and the driver whisked them and their purchases inside and I was left alone again.

At about 9:15 pm, a girl took the chair across from me. I didn’t look up; I was too busy sending a text message. When I finally did look up, my entire field of vision was filled with a pair of eye-popping ginormous tits clad in a pink blouse with flower prints and an extremely generous cleavage. A few nanoseconds before my hormones were to send a bone-up signal to my nethers, I saw the face to whom those tits were attached to. Ew.

We sat across each other for about five minutes, me still sending and receiving text messages; her…I don’t know what she was doing. I thought I was doing a pretty good job at looking mean and unfriendly, which isn’t really that difficult, but then she spoke. “Call center ka ba nagwo-work?” I looked up and shook my head. “Hindi,” I answered curtly. I thought she would be put off by the short reply. Wrong. “E saan?” she pursued. “Basta sa isang software company,” I replied, still not interested.

“Kay Bill Gates?” Warning klaxons started their wang-wang-wang in my head. “Hindi,” I chuckled. “E di Linux?” I was a bit surprised that she knew the word Linux. Well, I think there are some internet cafés that use Debian distributions anyway, so what the hell. Still, can’t she just shut up? Doesn’t she realize that I didn’t want to talk?

“Mga video-editing at DVD authoring software ginagawa namin, not operating systems.” I know it must have sounded either stupid or overly technical, depending on who you ask, but I was really annoyed at her intrusion and I just wanted her to go away. I don’t like small talk with strangers.

“Aaaaah,” she dismissed the subject and changed gears. “You think, babalik pa ba ako sa klab?”

The warning klaxons reached their crescendo. I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Wh-what?” I stammered.

She laughed and continued to rub it in my face. “Kasi I don’t know kung babalik pa ko dun sa klab. What do you think?” I really wanted her to go away. “Bumalik ka na, maaga pa naman e.”

“Past 9 na, maaga pa ba yun?” Get the fuck out of my sight! Isn’t 9pm still early if you work in a klab? I stayed silent.

Ang itim-itim ko kasi, mukha akong galing probinsiya.“ That was when I said something really stupid and cruel at the same time, but I didn’t realize it then. “That’s okay. Gabi naman e, hindi naman halata.”

Victory! She stood up and looked around. “Ang practical mo naming sumagot.” I just smiled. It was more like a sneer.

“Wait lang ha,” and she disappeared inside. I glanced briefly and saw her talking to the guard. Then she was gone. I took a deep breath and looked at the time. Nine-thirty. Glen Dale is late, but it was raining like mad so it’s understandable. I fished the Marlboros from my shirt pocket and lit up. Finally, I can have my smokes in peace.

Ten minutes later, she was back. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I wanted to leave, but it was raining and all I had was a denim jacket. I won’t last thirty seconds before I’m soaked. Then, I thought of something. I took my mobile phone from the front pocket of my pants and fiddled for a bit with the keypad, then stuck it to my ear and started to talk.

“Hello? Ano, punta ka pa? (Silence, as if listening to the other person’s reply.) E bilisan mo na, wala pa naman si Glen Dale e. (Silence.) Ha? Ewan ko, tinapos ko naman yun kanina bago ako umalis? (Silence.) WHAT?! So I’ve been working on a week-old build? E kakakuha ko lang nun kanina sa FTP ah. (Silence.) E gago pala siya e, ilalagay niya sa network tapos di niya sasabihin sa akin blah blah blah…”

It wasn’t supposed to make sense, and I suck at adlibbing anyway. After about five minutes of cryptic technical mumbo jumbo, I ran out of things to say. “Okay sige, see you. Babay.” I flicked my eyes to her direction. Gyaaaah, she was till there.

“Wala pa girlfriend mo?” I didn’t bother to correct her that I wasn’t waiting for my girlfriend and I didn’t have one at the moment. I didn’t want to give her any more ideas. “Wala pa.”

“Tingin mo ba, magkikita ba kami ng friend ko dito?” I exhaled. “May usapan ba kayo.” I said it without an inflection at the end; a statement rather than a question. I was too pissed off. “E alam naman niyang palagi akong andito e.” She smiled naughtily. “Pogi yun. Spanish.” I wanted to bash her face in. “Mag-asawa na lang kaya ako ng foreigner, no?” she continued. I was on the brink of violence. “Ang guwapo nun ah!” she exclaimed, her eyes looking at someone behind me. Her mouth was propped open and her eyes followed that guwapo who was certainly coming nearer and nearer. The guwapo finally passed my table and all I saw was a mere punk/emo looking Caucasian. I felt for a pen in my shirt pocket, ready to stick it in her eye. Then, from across the street, a familiar face appeared. Hallelujah! I didn’t even look at her when I said Bye under my breath. I grabbed Glen Dale’s arm and hurried away from Starbucks.

Glen Dale later said that I had a get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here look on my face as I scrambled away from that cursed café.

Enterprise

2007-09-05T20:26:00.000+08:00

When Enterprise was canceled after its fourth season in 2005, TV was left without a Star Trek show for the first time since 1987, when The Next Generation premiered.

Enterprise came after Voyager ended its run in 2001, after seven seasons or searching for a way back to Federation space after being marooned 75 years from home at maximum warp in the pilot episode. Used to watching (and eventually reading) about Starfleet and the Federation in the 24^th century, I wasn’t sure at first if I’d enjoy a 22^nd century version – a Star Trek without a Federation. Prequels rarely piqued my interest, and I figured that Bergman and Braga were running out of ideas. I caught a few episodes, notably the one where some of the crew were stranded in a Class-M planet that harbored plant life that caused the humans to experience delusions. Another was when Trip came aboard a seemingly friendly race to repair the engines of their transport ship that was revealed to be carrying a royalty they abducted for ransom. I wasn’t impressed; they were too campy and reminded me of The Original Series. Don’t get me wrong, I like TOS well enough, but hey, this is the 2000s. I stopped watching Enterprise, but I kept reading the non-canon TNG, Deep Space Nine and VOY novels.

Earlier this year though, I bought Enterprise on DVD, thinking I might enjoy watching an episode every now and then. And that’s what I did – I’d pop in a disc whenever I felt like it. That was usually at night after work, when I want to watch something, but didn’t want to stay up late. A nice 42-minute Star Trek episode is a perfect fit, since the story is resolved by the end and not leave me hanging and pushing the Next button on the DVD remote to find out what happened next.

This went on for a good few months; I’ve progressed through the second season bored and disgusted with some episodes, delighted with some. A much larger story arc – the Suliban and the Temporal Cold War in the 31^st century – was inserted in places to give the impression that there’s a “big picture.” I still wasn’t impressed. It’s like The X-Files. Most episodes are brilliant, but a handful were just plain awful (but hey, I love that show). I hate most time travel stories (but that doesn’t keep me from reading/watching them). I also didn’t like the way familiar species from the other four shows were tackled. Some details were just inserted to elicit a chuckle – Dr. Phlox’s tribble, for instance. Romulans, Borg, Klingons, Orions, Organians – I was just waiting when the Cardassians, Species 8472 and Q would show up (they didn’t). There was even an episode that tackled the Mirror Universe (grrr…) – the entire concept is tacky, if you ask me. (The last one was during the fourth season, but I’m putting this detail here.)

It wasn’t just the stories. Captain Archer was too uptight and self-righteous. Subcommander T’Pol was irritating, but well, she’s a Vulcan. Commander Tucker was particularly annoying. Lieutenant Reed was better, but not by much. Dr. Phlox’s accent was getting on my nerves. Ensigns Mayweather and Sato were just too bland to merit descriptions.

Halfway through the second season however, the episodes became... better. It wasn’t gradual. The quality of the show skyrocketed by Episode 15 and it stayed there since. It was still episodic, but the stories were incredible. The second season finale introduced a new story arc that hinged upon the Temporal Cold War. An alien species called the Xindi attacked Earth with a probe that cut a swath 4 000 kilometers long from Florida to Venezuela that killed seven million people. It was revealed that the Xindi discovered that Earth will destroy their homeworld 400 years in the future and the attack was a pre-emptive strike. Sounds familiar?

I thought that since this was a finale, the story will be resolved in the premiere episode of the next season, like what happened previously with Shockwave, parts 1 and 2. I was in for a pleasant surprise. The Xindi story arc consumed the entire third season, and it was spectacular. By the end of the third season, when the Xindi threat came to a resolution, a new story arc was introduced, though it wasn’t fully developed until the fourth season premiere.

Sulibans and the Temporal Cold War again, but this time, Enterprise was thrown back more than 200 years into the past, specifically near the tail end of the Second World War in 1944. But history has changed. An alien faction from the 31^st century traveled back in time to help the Third Reich. The digression of the timeline started in 1916, when Vladimir Lenin was assassinated, preventing the October Revolution. Russia doesn’t become communist and Germany didn’t consider them as a threat, therefore concentrating all their efforts to the west. Not long after, Russia, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, England and eventually the United States became occupied by the Nazi. It was spectacular, but a bit boring since I particularly despise the Star Trek tradition of using historical events as a backdrop. (The most absurd one is Voyager finding Amelia Earhart in the Delta Quadrant in or around 2375, having been abducted by an alien species resulting to her mysterious disappearance in 1937.) I found it weird that the Nazi story arc extended for four episodes, but I was in for a surprise. The fourth season was different, having story arcs extending for three or four episodes with a breather or two in between. A bit eclectic, since season three was a bit more like Battlestar Galactica. That’s the way I like it though.

Enterprise was almost canceled after its third season, but it managed to hang on for another year before being shelved. The longer story arcs, the presence of more significant species and personalities like Soong and the larger involvement of Starfleet Command were perhaps a final attempt to save the show. It didn’t work. It could have, but it was too late. The first and half of second season of the show was so terrible, and I, for one, was turned off early on to even bother to check out what happened in the third and fourth.

The series finale These Are The Voyages… was supposedly a grand send off, set ten years after Enterprise first left spacedock. It wasn’t that grand. First Officer William Riker of Enterprise-E was watching/participating the program in the holodeck, trying to gain an insight about a decision he was about to make regarding Pegasus. It was more like a misplaced TNG episode than an Enterprise series finale. While the Andorian Commander Shran played a significant role in the eventual formation of the United Federation of Planets in 2161 primarily because of his friendship with Archer, he wasn’t a very important character to merit Commander Tucker’s death.

All in all, Enterprise is a rehash of both The Original Series and The Next Generation not only because they involved the crew of a ship of the same name, but also because of the mission for exploration milked for money episode after episode. While longer story arcs is a novelty in itself, since even Deep Space Nine’s Dominion War and Voyager’s encounters with the Borg dragged on for entire seasons, Enterprise is the first Star Trek to employ multiple arcs that hinged on one another, making it seem like we’re actually following their story on a given timeline. Had the producers introduced such reforms early on in the first season, the show could have matched TNG, DS9 and VOY’s seven seasons apiece, but with better and longer stories to tell, as well as providing the context of the 22^nd century for a fuller understanding of all the Star Trek that came before. Star Trek XI, the yet untitled 11^th movie to be directed by Lost creator J.J Abrams, is set for December 2008. While I am still not convinced that a prequel is necessary, perhaps a fresh start on Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and Scotty isn’t a very bad idea, since a successful box office showing could provide the motivation for Paramount to create a new Star Trek TV show. Now THAT is something worth waiting for.

Chrono Trigger

2007-09-05T20:23:00.000+08:00

I finally got Crono to Level 99, and that’s something in excess of 2.3 million experience points. I have Power, Speed, Magic, Magic Defense and Stamina at maximum. Evade is 90 and Hit is a measly 47, but well, you can’t have everything.

Ayla, Robo, Lucca, Marle and Frog/Glenn have reached Level 99 as well, and only Magus is hanging on to Level 93. His character joined the party very late in the game, so nothing I can do about that except play some more. Ayla finally got her Bronze Fists at Level 97, so I now have everybody’s strongest weapons.

First thing I did when Crono hit Level 99 was to go to the End of Time to challenge Spekkio, now having taken the appearance of a Nu (and a pink Nu at that). Considering that I’ve found all 12 endings and since about Level 60+ I could defeat Lavos with my eyes closed, I found Nu Spekkio challenging, since I don’t even remember an enemy that can deal more than 800 HP damage in one attack since I’ve had my party’s maximum defenses equipped. Obviously, this excludes Queen Zeal’s Halation attack that reduces all characters’ HP to 1. Nu Spekkio has a similar attack, down to the graphics and the 1 HP result, but his attacks are not named anything. He/She/It has everything though, from Magus’s Dark Matter to Crono’s Luminaire to Lucca’s Flare.

What I did was this: My party consisted of Crono, Lucca and Robo. Crono and Lucca attacked, Robo healed.

Equipment:
Crono
Weapon: Rainbow
Helmet: OzziePants
Armor: MoonArmor
Accessory: GreenDream (for one time reanimation)

Lucca
Weapon: WonderShot
Helmet: PrismHelm
Armor: PrismDress
Accessory: PowerSeal (more Power)

Robo
Weapon: TerraArm
Helmet: PrismHelm
Armor: MoonArmor
Accessory: ThirdEye (2x evade)

I could have brought Marle or Ayla as healer, but Robo is much more resistant to attacks than those two, and every HP counts. The battle went something like, Nu Spekkio casts Halation, Robo uses Heal Beam, then Crono and Lucca use Luminaire and Flare respectively. I’ve never concerned myself much with double and triple techs, and Nu Spekkio is not changing that. Repeat after one round. Since no one is wearing a Gold or even Silver Stud, MP is depleted after 4-5 rounds. I take a breather for one round after that, letting Crono and Lucca use a HyperEther each. Curiously, Nu Spekkio had one attack that was named, called Salt, and what it did was fully restore Lucca’s health. Huh?

A while later, Nu Spekkio surrenders and gives my party the Spekkio Cheerful Set, its most valuable package consisting of 10 each of Power, Magic and Speed tabs as well as 10 MegaElixirs. Woohoo!

I’ve gone through this game dozens of times, and that’s no big joke since a single run can take about 8-10 hours if I go for broke and complete all 7 side quests after the main plot before confronting Queen Zeal inside the Black Omen. I suppose I could bring it down to less than 5 hours, but skirting around to avoid enemies isn’t really fun. The final 20 or so levels were quite annoying, since I needed to rack up 40-50000 experience points just to advance one level. Imagine fighting the Imps at Truce Canyon or Guardia Forest, getting 2 experience points for each Imp defeated. I hung out inside the Black Omen, where the enemies give me 600-700 experience points each.

Next challenge? Hmm… Equip the weakest weapons and defenses. Whoa! Help! Someone stole my Masamune!

Bag of Death

2007-08-16T16:26:00.000+08:00

Ha! I'm the first one to do it. Jayson's idea of "What would you want to be in your bag if you were found dead somewhere? Five books and DVDs and 50 songs in an MP3 player." Here's mine.

5 books

On the Road by Jack Kerouac
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Hey Nostradamus! by Douglas Coupland
Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
The Trial by Franz Kafka

5 DVDs

Donnie Darko by Richard Kelly
American Beauty by Sam Mendes
The 400 Blows by Francois Truffaut
Control by Anton Corbijn
Abre Los Ojos by Alejandro Amenabar

50 MP3s

Suzanne – Leonard Cohen
Desolation Row – Bob Dylan
Lost Highway – Hank Williams
Hurt – Johnny Cash
Ten Years Gone – Led Zeppelin
Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley
No Surprises – Radiohead
Atmosphere – Joy Division
February Fifteenth – Bright Eyes
Milano – Sigur Ros
From Macaulay Station – The Lucksmiths
The Professor – Damien Rice
In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning – Frank Sinatra
Local Boy In The Photograph – Stereophonics
All Apologies - Nirvana
Don’t Let It Bring You Down – Neil Young
Mad World – Gary Jules
Landslide – Smashing Pumpkins
Memories Of You – Ryan Adams
Fear No Darkness, Promised Child – Timo Raisanen
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother – Rufus Wainwright
Satisfied Mind – Jeff Buckley
These Drugs Don’t Work – Richard Ashcroft
Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
The Freshmen – Verve Pipe
A Movie Script Ending – Death Cab for Cutie
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight – The Postal Service
Make Your Own Kind Of Music – Cass Elliott
October – Collapsis
The Other End (Of The Telescope) – Aimee Mann
Clementine – Elliott Smith
Eight Years Old – Ben Lee
One Foot In Front Of The Other – Bright Eyes
Woke Up In A Strange Place – Jeff Buckley
Sunshower – Chris Cornell
Fell On Black Days – Soundgarden
Black – Pearl Jam
Amsterdam – Coldplay
Why Does It Always Rain On Me? – Travis
Mountains Of Mourne – Don McLean
Don’t Fear The Reaper – Elliott Smith
My Father’s Gun – Elton John
Poorman’s Grave – Eraserheads
Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What A Wonderful World – Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
Been Smoking Too Long – Nick Drake
Tomorrow Is A Long Time – Bob Dylan
Jesus Don’t Want Me For A Sunbeam – Nirvana
Scarborough Fair – Simon And Garfunkel
As Tears Go By – The Rolling Stones
1812 Overture – Tchaikovsky

Now that's a rousing finale, that track no. 50. Haha.

Grub

2007-06-29T16:44:00.000+08:00

Employers are tripping all over themselves to hire me. I got 6 job offers the past 2 weeks alone, 3 of them from call centers so I rejected them before the HR could say "We offer good compensation." So? Blech. Trend Micro also offered a position similar to my current job. Another, Branders, wanted me to be an Account Manager (whatever that is, it certainly sounds b-o-r-i-n-g). Yet another one, a publishing company (I didn't get the name), had a position for an editor.

I like money just as much as the next guy, but I'm not going to trade my personal growth over cash. I am properly compensated here at Corel, despite my status as a uni drop-out. I am on my home stretch to being regularized, meaning a raise and job security, so why would I jeopardize that for the promise of a shitload of cash from other companies? I'm not greedy. For example, if I had to choose between a video game bug-tester position that pays 20k and a sales rep position that offers 100k, I'd choose the first one. It's like going to the office just to do what I do at home while the second one will make me a corporate fuckwhore peddling useless wares to gullible clients. It's sick.

There's just one company that I'd never turn down. It's the company whose homepage you use to search for anything over the internet (if you use Yahoo then that's not it, if you use MSN then you go fuck yourself and if you use something else* then go stab yourself 47 times in the neck, loser). Why I'd never turn it down? The food. Hey Sergey, Larry and Eric, I'm waiting for your call! Yoohoo!

*Excluding Web 2.0 search engines (e.g. Cha Cha)

A different film festival

2007-06-12T15:45:00.000+08:00

I woke up at 5:40 a.m yesterday, then quickly realized that it was a holiday and I didn't have to go to work. Unable to go back to sleep, I stared at the ceiling, humming that Bright Eyes song, "Sitting around, no work today..."

Around lunch time, an uncle picked me up to look (or gawk, leer...) at some houses my parents wanted to buy. I didn't want to go back home after that , so I told him to drop me off somewhere in Ortigas, since I thought I'd just spend the rest of the day cooped up in a Shangrila cinema watching French films. As it happened, we took the C5 to Ortigas - not usually the route I prefer. I perked up when we passed by Metrowalk, so I had him make a U-turn to drop me off there.

I never got anywhere near Shangrila that afternoon. But I had a different kind of film festival. I traded this:

for these:

Six out of 17 are either French-produced or directed, so I guess that compensates.

IMDB profiles:
The 400 Blows
The Bicycle Thieves
Delicatessen
Animal
The Blue Angel
The Science of Sleep
The Virgin Suicides
Taxidermia
The Red Violin
Session 9
A Clockwork Orange
Elephant
Fast Food Nation
Good Night and Good Luck
Insomnia
The Tesseract
Serenity

Attempted Copyright Infringement

2007-05-16T17:42:00.000+08:00

Toddler: "Mommy, what's a torrent?"
Mom: "AAAAAHHHHH! Don't say that word!"
Federal Agent: "Aha! I heard that! You're under arrest, kid."
RIAA: "Mmm-hmm."

There's no shortage of evil Gonzaleses. US Attorney General Alberto Gonzales of the lawyer firings infamy, is currently pressing the US Congress to pass a sweeping intellectual property rights bill that would prosecute "attempted copyright infringement."

Huh. Maybe one day people will go to jail for "attempted slander," "attempted jaywalking," or "attempted protest action." Philip K. Dick must be rolling in his grave.

PS Not all Gonzaleses are evil. I certainly am not, and Jose Gonzales makes good music. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu is a hell of a filmmaker. Charlene Gonzales is well, uh, endorsing a brand of feminine wash. That's not evil, right?

What's so funny?!

2007-05-09T20:02:00.000+08:00

What she's laughing about, we'll never know. Just another one of life's mysteries. I swear, another five seconds and she would've had an aneurysm.

Key

2007-05-03T06:29:00.000+08:00

09 F9 11 02 9D 74 E3 5B D8 41 56 C5 63 56 88 C0. Hahaha. It didn't take that long. I have inside information about this, but I can't post it. You can ask me in person though.

If you didn't get it, Google that mangled string of characters above. Or you can check the chronology of events here, listen to a song written about it, "Oh Nine, Eff Nine" here, buy merch here, or just visit Digg. While you're at it, Wiki "The Streisand Effect." It made the BBC and the NY Times as well.

Quiapo, HD content is on its way!

Oh. Oh. Oh.

2007-04-24T17:55:00.000+08:00

Armed with the album's thirteen tracks, excuse me while I go home and die.

Headlines

2007-04-20T18:09:00.000+08:00

This week’s news brought back memories of my past, and I’m not quite sure how to deal with them, so I did the next best thing: write them down and then forget about it. So, here.

First, Kurt Vonnegut’s death. I admit I’ve only read a handful of his considerable body of work, but hey, you don’t have to eat the whole pudding to know it’s good. So there it was, he died, and that was it. That’s what old people are supposed to do, right? They die. Except that I stole this idea from one of Cho Seung-hui’s plays (the guy who shot down more than 30 people in Virginia, but I’ll get back to this a bit later).
Then Iris blogged about it, specifically mentioning one of Vonnegut’s short stories called Long Walk to Forever. Now it’s a bit embarrassing, but I was having psychological problems when this happened a few years ago. You see, I was once involved in a destructive, on and off, informal relationship with a girl. When both of us read Long Walk for the first time, it was a gift from one of our better friends, who rooted for us until she left (I’m not discussing the details of her departure).

We didn’t, quite obviously. Like the girl in the story, she was involved with another guy at that time, and their relationship was pretty destructive too. But things got quite a bit hairy one December when we got a little more involved with each other. A lot of stuff happened, and she eventually broke up with her boyfriend. And then a lot more stuff happened, and I eventually decided that our relationship was taking its toll on both of us, so I walked away completely. In the aftermath, she still tried to keep our friendship, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I didn’t want anything to do with her anymore, and perhaps that was one of the best decisions I ever did.

Years passed, and still, she reached out to me to no avail. I remember this one time about two years ago. I was living in some shack with friends then, and she used to drop by. A day or so later after her visit, I came upon a piece of paper in my room. There was no mistaking the handwriting, and the words on it – it was a poem – said something like she’s contented as long as I’m in the same room with her or something like that. I threw it away. Like I said, I didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

The last time I ever heard about her was a bit more than a year ago. I had my own house by that time and frequently had some friends coming over. One night a mutual friend of ours was there too, sharing a drink with us bohemians. Unbeknownst to me, the two of them were exchanging text messages that night. Things came to a head when shortly she called our friend shortly before midnight, obviously drunk and talking gibberish. It turns out that she wanted to come to my house. I lost it. I told the friend quite loudly that she couldn’t come, my friends are here, she’s embarrassing.

That was the last I heard of her. That was also perhaps the last time she crossed my mind, until I read Iris’s blog about Vonnegut. Funny how things like that can bring back memories you’d rather forget, for they are embarrassing and juvenile. I have moved on, and I am a different person now (More on this later). Since then, I never got involved with another girl. Well, just one, and it didn’t quite work out. But I always catch her when she signs on to an IM and we talk quite a lot. Earlier this week, I asked her out. She obliged, but only if I promised not to smoke while I’m with her. Fair enough.

The second news is the shooting rampage at Virginia Tech. I gobbled down everything I could get my hands (or browser) on about the news, about the victims, about the history of school shootings but most of all about the gunman. When I finished reading, I was reminded of myself seven years ago. I was fifteen years old and had just entered college. My first class was Communication Skills, and the first thing we had to do was to introduce ourselves. I thought I did quite well, since whatever I liked then was I guess quite normal for a guy my age. I said I was a loner, never talked to anybody unless asked a question, liked reading horror novels, listened to some heavy rock music, enjoyed watching violent films and playing similarly violent computer games. So there’s nothing wrong with that, right? I mean, I was a teenage boy, what could you expect?
Well, there was something wrong with me apparently. Back then I liked hats, especially fedoras. I always wore one. It was also the first semester – rainy season, and I always wore a jacket, too. Imagine what I looked like. So after my short speech, our instructor turned to the class and said something like, “His profile is like that of the Columbine guys.” Everybody laughed, including me. Hey, that was a bit silly, although I admit to having fantasies of going on a murderous rampage myself. And while I have a violent nature (I discussed my history of violence in my other blog; click the button on the left and enter password to read), they’re just that, no different than sexual fantasies about celebrities and porn stars. Quite funny, me and the Columbine gunmen. Ha ha.

So when I read Cho’s profile and the plays he wrote, I was reminded of this little episode early in college. I turned out all right, and that’s more than anybody could say.

Second Life

2007-04-11T19:47:00.000+08:00

After a long, long time of consideration, I finally gave in and signed up. My new identity's name is Arkadiy Nikolaidis, which I arrived at after about a dozen attempts, since the most common Russian first names for the Nikolaidis surname was already taken. I would have liked Stanislav or Pavel though. I didn't consider any other surname after seeing the one I took. Oh well, might as well build some stuff now, maybe rob a bank (in the real world) and buy myself a Linden island.

Frack

2007-04-09T20:20:00.000+08:00

#include
#ifdef SPOILER
The Guardian, Time and Rolling Stone gave it glowing reviews. The latter two called it the best thing that is happening on television. It’s not Oprah. It’s not American Idol. It’s not Grey’s Anatomy.

It’s Battlestar Galactica.

Sci Fi Channel’s reimagining of the 1978 series has sparked such a furor even beyond the sci-fi community that even the most tight-assed of award-giving bodies, the Peabody, has acknowledged its brilliance. And perhaps it’s the only show on television that has tackled the war on terror – and its handling of the issue has caught everyone off-guard.

See, Battlestar Galactica is a warship about to be decommissioned, it’s Commander, William Adama, about to retire. It’s hopelessly outdated, the computers aren’t even networked, and some of the hangars have been turned into gift shops. The entire ship is being converted into a museum. But on the day of the decommissioning ceremony, the Cylons attacked.

1. The Cylons are machines created by humans. Strangely, they exceeded their programming and evolved, and sought to destroy their creators. A fragile peace was obtained when the Cylons departed and settled far from Caprica, the capital planet of the Twelve Colonies. The peace went unbroken for forty years, until the day came when the Cylons nuked all 12 colonies. Only Galactica and a handful of civilian ships survived, still pursued relentlessly by the Cylons. Between all of them, they carried less than 50,000 humans.

It was also the United States that created al-Qaeda back when the Soviet Union was “the enemy.” Eventually, al-Qaeda turned on its creators and orchestrated one of the most significant events of the turn of the century – the September 11 attacks.

2. The attacks caught everyone by surprise, although when the investigations went underway, it appeared that the US government has known of the threat beforehand.

The admiralty of the Colonies also knew that a Cylon strike was imminent, even provoking them by crossing the armistice in a black ops mission. The theory was that the Cylons have been silent for 40 years because they were building weapons and preparing for a strike. And that was exactly what happened. But the Cylons have built something totally unexpected. They created models that looked like humans and infiltrated the fleet, especially the Ministry of Defense. There are only twelve “skinjobs” – Cylons that looked like, bled like, fell in love like and even died like humans. The only difference is that after they die, they are downloaded.

3. The Cylons have a resurrection ship, where a skinjob is reborn after being killed. In order to be reborn, a skinjob must be within range of the resurrection ship. That is where the parallelism with the war on terror turns around. The US and its allies may pursue Iraqi/Palestinian/Afghan/you-name-it insurgents, but as they are killed, they are reborn. Not literally, but what they fought for, and the others are still fighting for, are kept alive in a new generation of fighters.

4. But what is really intriguing about the series is what happened between the second and third seasons. Sci Fi produced ten “webisodes” that are offered for free after watching some advertisements, called Battlestar Galactica: The Resistance. What happened is that the fleet found a planet that could support human life, and most of them decided to stay. They called it New Caprica. Laura Roslin, the cancer-stricken president of the colonies, lost her reelection bid to the selfish and cowardly Dr. Gaius Baltar, over her decision not to support long-term settlement on the planet. Before long however, the Cylons found them, Baltar surrenders and becomes head of the puppet government, and New Caprica is thrown into chaos. Sounds familiar? One word: Iraq.

The insurgents, hopelessly out of contact with Galactica, have sought to disrupt the Cylon-Human administration any way they can. Those who were up to it volunteered for the ultimate act of heroism – they became suicide bombers. This is where it gets even more convoluted, with the insurgents trying to justify the bombings and the civilian deaths that resulted from it.

Not all humans despised the Cylons however, as there were a lot of collaborators. The Cylons created the New Caprica Police comprised entirely of humans, some of them former Galactica officers. Baltar’s chief of staff is Lieutenant Gaeta, former Galactica communications officer. While Gaeta worked for the puppet government, he helped the insurgents by feeding them inside information, despite refusing to identify himself.

5. When the insurgents finally defeated the Cylons – at least at New Caprica, the tables turned yet again. Vice President Tom Zarek, who took over the presidency from Baltar, decided to form a secret council of peers to try and execute the collaborators. No lawyers were provided for the defendants, and after reading their sentence, they are thrown out of the airlock. That is exactly what the Central Intelligence Agency is doing – arresting suspected “terrorists,” then shipping them to a third country or locking them up in Guantanamo Bay. They are subjected to physical and mental torture, detained without charges and some are summarily murdered. And we’re supposed to call it justice.

6. The most glaring parallelism however, is the religious aspect of the series. Let me back up a little bit. See, there’s this planet called Kobol, where everything originated. It was governed by the Gods – Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, Athena etc. Yup, the names aren’t just a coincidence. Thirteen tribes left the planet, twelve of them settling to form the Colonies. They are named Caprica, Picon, Sagittaron, Virgon, Scorpion, Tauron etc. Permutations of the names of the twelve constellations found on the horoscopes. (The names by which we know them, Cancer, Pisces, Sagittarius are known as ancient in the show.) The thirteenth tribe settled somewhere else nobody can locate. Earth.

The rabid religiosity of the Cylons is not entirely different from Islamic fundamentalism. They are doing what they have to do, and they are doing it because they are meant to. Everything they did was godly, even the wholesale annihilation of the 12 colonies and their relentless pursuit of the survivors. They prayed, they quoted scripture and they believed in destinies and miracles.

The connection is not as simple as Humans=Americans and Cylons=Terrorists. Both humans and Cylons cycle through actions that characterize both Americans and the so-called enemy. The season 3 finale has been aired, and with it, the identity of the final five Cylons were revealed. I suppose I could have gone to the Battlestar Wiki and peeked. But I wouldn’t. I’ll wait.

The fourth season, according to Galactica’s producers, will be an investigation on what makes humans humans, and what makes Cylons Cylons. One of the most interesting things about Battlestar Galactica is that there is no ostensible villain figure/s that can be identified. Even Gaius Baltar is not a villain per se – he’s just a selfish and cowardly human. The Cylons are driven by a mysterious religiosity that is yet to be explained. Admiral William Adama cycles from being a dark hero to plotting an assassination. President Laura Roslin goes from cancer-stricken religious figure to election cheater. Major Lee “Apollo” Adama turns from Roslin’s unexpected coup supporter to Baltar’s defender. Lieutenant Sharon “Boomer” Valerii, who became Lieutenant Sharon “Athena” Agathon, began as a Cylon sleeper agent who became one of Galactica’s heroes, then fulfilled her mission and attempted to assassinate the elder Adama, and then back again as she betrayed her own kind. Finally there is Number Three D’Anna (played by Lucy Lawless), who appears to be one of the Cylons’ leaders, until Baltar discovers her secret.

There are a lot of characters in the show, some of them minor enough not to make a big difference, but their stories are compelling enough to warrant an episode of their own. There’s Chief Galen Tyrol, who played a major role in the insurgency, Karl “Helo” Agathon, who gave up his seat to save Baltar in the Cylon attack on Caprica, and who fathered the first Human-Cylon baby, Captain Kara “Starbuck” Thrace, who despised authority but accepted her orders to assassinate Admiral Cain, Captain Luanne “Kat” Katraine, who smuggled drugs and people before the Cylons attacked and went on to sacrifice herself to save a civilian ship, and Colonel Saul Tigh, the weak XO who killed his beloved wife when she collaborated with the Cylons.
#endif /* SPOILER */

Quite surprisingly, a certain ship makes an appearance in the background of the 3-hour miniseries that preceded the Pilot episode. The ship is Serenity, from the film of the same title and the short-lived TV series Firefly. I would have promised to write about that next, but seeing that my promise about Emacs didn't come through, well. Just so I can say something about it: Taikong souyou de xingqiu saijin wo de pigu! Ouch!

PS. This post was supposed to contain pseudo-code and HTML tags like (praise intensity="95%")Battlestar Galactica(/praise), but Blogger mucked it up, especially the pseudo-HTML tags and I'm not in the mood to go over this post again so I left it as it is. Frack!

TV Music

2007-04-04T16:09:00.001+08:00

Songs from some of my favorite TV shows:
(right click and Save Link As on the song titles to download)

1. Rogue Wave - "Eyes" from Heroes (Season 1 Pilot)
2. Patrick Park - "Life is a Song" from The OC (Season 4 Finale)
3. Stu Philips - "Colonial Anthem" from Battlestar Galactica (Season 2 Episode 1)
4. Creedence Clearwater Revival - "Bad Moon Rising" from Supernatural (Season 2 Episode 1)
5. Mama Cass Elliott - "Make Your Own Kind of Music" from Lost (Season 2 Episode 1)

Call for Submissions

2007-03-25T19:38:00.000+08:00

Luksong Tinik: The 2006-2007 Philippine Collegian Anthology

The Philippine Collegian is accepting submissions for its upcoming anthology to be released this May. Submissions may be in the form of fiction, poetry and essay for print; and short films, flash animation, games, and other digital art for the DVD. Send your entries to kulefolio0607@gmail.com in the following file formats:

Fiction/poetry/essay: RTF
Short film: in DVD format or AVI
Flash: SWF or EXE
Non-Flash: EXE
CDs/DVDs may also be brought to the Philippine Collegian office, Room 401 Vinzons Hall. Submissions are accepted until April 20.

This Job Is Killing Me*

2007-02-01T11:57:00.000+08:00

Act I, or Whoops! Where'd My Money Go?
I recently came by a couple of grand, which, had I been more conscientious, would have sustained me for approximately two weeks. It was from that survey form thing, and while I absolutely despised that racket, the cash was abundant, and there's more to come.

I initially planned to buy house things. Maybe a couple of furniture items - a bookshelf is a must, a couch, a new bed, a gas tank, a dresser. Stuff that would make my apartment look like a house (because right now, it looks like a warehouse, with all the boxes strewn around). But then, I don't really care much about how my house looks like, as long as I have a comfortable bed to sleep in, some kitchenware and bathroom stuff. Why would I need a dresser? I throw all my stuff on the table - pocket change, wallet, house keys. All my cosmetics (for lack of a better term) are there too. There's a mirror right under the medicine cabinet, so fuck the dresser. Bookshelf? The boxes are still overflowing with books, and I can always stuff them in the downstairs closet if I wanted to. Gas tank? Hello? The reason why restaurants were invented was to feed people too lazy too cook for themselves. A new bed? Yeah right, as if I have a sex life, so fuck that too. A couch? For what, for the cat? I go home and lounge around on the bed. I don't have visitors and I'm not expecting any. So what will I do with a couch?

So one day last week, I went to a computer store and purchased a new flash memory drive. Good timing for the money, since my last one died two weeks ago (RIP). I bought one with a fairly large capacity (2GB) so I can tour all the internet cafes on campus and mess around with their bandwidth with torrents. Later that night, I went to the supermarket to replenish my stock and bought all sorts of stuff impulsively. And since my liquor stash was also running low, I went ahead and helped myself to a bottle of whiskey, the price of which could have bought another 2GB flash memory. Now I'm torn - I used to say that vodka is the best-tasting liquor, but I'm beginning to like whiskey too. Hmm, the aged-flavor just gets me going. I always carry a small amount of whiskey with me, and I've spent a lot of afternoon breaks at work smoking at the roof deck and having a sip. Mmm.

The next day, I inspected my wallet and exclaimed, "Whoops! Where'd my money go?!"

Act II, or I C You, I C++ Me
Lack of a social life, coupled with boredom, can lead to interesting things. While I'm pretty much stressed because of work most of the time, it doesn't happen every single day. Sometimes, when I'm not required to come to the office, or only had short meetings with my bosses at a café nearby, or maybe with a client at some hotel or restaurant, I am left with a lot of empty hours. What to do? Conor Oberst had an idea. From the song Something Vague: "...and drink the cold away. And you're not really sure what you're doing this for but you need something to fill up the days. A few more hours..." Eh? If I did that, I'd probably starve to death (I liked the film Leaving Las Vegas though), because liquor is expensive. Well, the ones I prefer anyway. Who drinks Gilbey's or San Miguel anyway? Ew. Fortunately, I'm not that pathetic.

So I started teaching myself C++. The damn thing is an amazingly complex programming language, and I spend half my time, waiting for my code to compile and trying to figure out what I did wrong because it still won't run, even if I followed the instructions to the letter. Ha! Enter online forums. Some guys kindly advised me to check out other compilers, look for other resources, debug more keenly and stuff like that.

I want to write a game. I have an idea about chickens and cats. Meet Brutus, the cat who wants to do nothing else but eat pizza, then sleep, then eat pizza again, then sleep - repeat ad nauseum. Brutus sleeps in a basket placed next to a window where outside, the neighbor's evil chickens cluck incessantly and peck at him while he's sleeping just for the heck of it.

Now Brutus has really long claws he uses to scratch those nasty chickens. Brutus is owned by a shadowy figure called Mr. Z, who threatens to sue the neighbors because of the chickens but is unable to do so since he's under the Witness Protection Program.

The chickens' clucking and pecking disturb Brutus's sleep, so he'll grow thinner whenever it happens. So he uses his claws. Every chicken he scratches earns him a pizza from Mr. Z, who is delighted at Brutus doing his revenge for him. The game ends when Brutus becomes very famished and dies, or his tummy explodes because he's too fat. Either way, Mr. Z will go berserk, grab an AK-47 and pepper the neighbor's house with bullets, chickens and all. Fade to black.

var endGame=prompt("Game over. Do you want to play again?")
if (endGame) {
  /*Launch the code
    to start a new game*/
}
else {
  /*Launch the code to
  run Michaelangelo virus
  er just kidding I mean,
  display high scores*/
}

Okay I'm bluffing, that's JavaScript, not C++. Nevertheless, fun eh? And by the way, I'm typing this on Emacs, which I'm beginning to like very, very much. My next blog post will be about this wonderful piece of Unix software. That's all for now. Bye kids!

*with apologies to The Walkmen

New Digs II

2007-01-20T17:51:00.000+08:00

I have completely moved out and now have all my stuff in my new apartment. The final stretch wasn’t easy, so I enlisted the help of some neighborhood guy my former landlady’s maid recommended. So he lifted three Balikbayan box-sized cartons full of books for me. Books are heavy, and they’re my least favorite stuff when moving. I breezed past him the few trips we made – him lugging the aforementioned boxes, me carrying suitcase-sized boxes, a dustpan, hangers, a powerstrip and similar light stuff. Hehe. I paid him for the job anyway.

However, I still haven’t unpacked anything. I rummage for clothes from the suitcase, look for CDs in the small box mentioned above, eat and drink in disposable plates and cups (the mere laziness; I bought them because I didn’t want to fumble through numerous boxes to look for my tablewares). Well, I unpacked the computer stuff and the beddings, I need to use them anyway. Other than that, it’s all boxes and bags all over the house. The second floor is very tidy, since there’s only the bed and the laptop in there, but the room downstairs – which will transform into an office once I have the time to unpack – is like a warehouse.

The shower knob is missing (the original Frat House had a working shower, but I was taller than the nozzle, so I never used it much), the floor upstairs creaks, the phone and internet connections are dormant, and the staircase is placed at an angle of about 50-60 degrees (too vertical), but otherwise, it’s all hunky-dorey. Kira loves it. She particularly enjoys being chased up the stairs, which is not good for me. She likes to hang out with the cat next door too, but I don’t let her go out much since the other cat might have fleas or diseases or something horrible like that.

My only real problem about the house is that there are no bookshelves. Where the hell am I going to put my books? In the closets? Stack them up on the floor? Line them up on the kitchen counter? Hide some in the medicine cabinet? Leave them inside their boxes? Grrr. Things to buy #1472: a bookshelf.

Look Ma, No Keypad!

2007-01-18T16:00:00.000+08:00

<.drool>The Apple iPhone. Coming in June 2007.< /wipe drool>

I had to put a non-breaking space before the word "drool" because the browser reads it as an actual HTML code, and of course there's no such thing as a tag called "drool" so it doesn't display it.

But I'm not really that into mobile phones anyway. I was just attracted by the sleek black casing and the colorful display sans keypad. And there's a CNN clip that says Asians are basically ignoring the iPhone because mobile phones here do more. To wit: "iPhone is so old-school." Haha! At $400-500, just about the cost of a 20GB Playstation 3 or a copy of Windows Vista Ultimate (selling by end of January), which would you choose? Why, a PS3 of course!

I was browsing in Cyberzone Megamall a few days ago, when I noticed that some stores are already selling Blu-Ray and HD-DVD formats of a few movies. I never asked how much they were though. One store was playing some film called Eight Below on a Toshiba HD-DVD player (which looked like a VHS ew), while beside it, a Playstation 3 was lying idle, a Blu-Ray copy of World Trade Center on top of it. Eh? Maybe in 2010, Quiapo will be overrun by Blu-Ray and HD-DVD. But not now.

I went to Toy Kingdom before that (it being on the ground floor and Cyberzone on the 4th) and asked how much they were selling the PS3. Ouch. The price quote for Nintendo Wii didn't make me very happy either. <.drool>Oooo, I can almost imagine having lightsaber duels on the Wii. < /wipe drool>

New Digs

2007-01-16T12:57:00.001+08:00

Frat House II. Two floors, two bedrooms, too many neighbors. At least they’re welcoming, quiet and doesn’t mind me shuffling in front of their porches carrying boxes of stuff at 2 in the morning.

More. Something that can pass for a roof deck, a dormant phone line and internet connection, a dungeon. Not to mention my access to the “portal.”

But it wasn’t easy. I figured that since I’m only moving two compounds away, there was no need to rent a cab or a jeep to haul my things. Bad idea. Walking upslope about 150 meters on a 30 degree incline was exhausting. Especially if you’re carrying 50 pounds of stuff. And to do it again and again…God, I need Salonpas. Or whatever substances old people peruse to relieve arthritis and muscle pain.

The most time consuming part of moving is not the actual moving itself, but the packing. Stuff I’ve never seen since the last time I moved (December 2005) – huh, they’re fun! Shuffling through old papers, readings, newspapers, I couldn’t help but read them as I filed them away. Then I stumbled upon old photographs. And when I say old, they’re old. Like printed in old-fashioned photopaper and not just displayed on a computer screen. I think the latest of them must have been taken in 2003, back when I still dabbled in photography and had access to a darkroom.

Some stuff were easy enough to move, like clothes, beddings, kitchen stuff, toiletries and computer stuff. Books, however, were a pain. And I have a lot of them. Try carrying a boxful (around 4x3x1) of hardcovers and you’ll see what I mean.

So right now, in between work and the Collegian, I’m trying to make the place halfway liveable. I’ve moved all the bedroom stuff upstairs, shoved everything I don’t need in the dungeon, and left pretty much everything else in the downstairs room, which I’m converting into an office. A new tactic to keep myself away from computer games and iTunes after bedtime. Maybe in two weeks, I’ll have settled. And as Kat suggested, a party is in order. Yoohoo!

All Families Are Psychotic

2007-01-13T23:56:00.000+08:00

I’ve never been close with my younger brothers when we were kids. Well actually, nobody in our family were ever close to each other (except maybe our parents), although sometimes my mother would tell us something scandalous about our relatives, our neighbors…

Oh, she’s not like that – tsismosa, as we call it. While not rare, times like that didn’t happen regularly. But somehow, we get off whenever it does happen. Sometimes all three of us boys are in my room, mugging the hell out of the Playstation, or maybe listening to some rock band, or feeding the DVD player one disc after another or just horsing around trying to get one another’s shorts off or tickling one of us to death (with this last one, alliances were always shifting, depending on which two happened to look at each other at the same time while feeling particularly naughty), then she’ll come in from the kitchen, fumble on some of our stuff on the dresser and remark how dirty the room is – and then whoa! Gossip time. Ah I remember that time when one of my aunts forced her 17-year old daughter to have an abortion (juicy!), or telling us about our clan’s Great Schism involving um – what else, but inheritance and money and houses and tracts of land of a long-dead great-uncle? And then there’s our grandmother – my father’s mom (now that’s one gossipmonger) who will complain to anybody within earshot about how her children neglects her, which means she’s not given enough money and now she can’t get a replacement washing machine, or pay off the cable company, or buy the new Peugeot or spend five weeks in Patagonia and flirt with princes in Monaco casinos. But oh I digress –

I was born in 1984, my brother in ’87 and the youngest in ’92. Pretty good actually, not too close, but no large age gaps either. One puberty at a time. Well, there was supposed to be another one in ’98, but my mother had a miscarriage after trying to lift the dresser while cleaning (and all of us kids are supposed to be boys). After that, she got depressed and started to go Jesus! Jesus! (well, not too much, she just started to go to church on Sunday again, no prayovers, no forbidden food – no, nothing like that).

As a kid I was pretty much regular – not too athletic, not too dorky either. I was at the top of my class, but all the boys were my friends (and all the girls were our enemies) and I was their leader because I had sage-like wisdom even if I was youngest. Examples: I knew dead rats were dirty, but we just had to touch one to know how it felt like. Or that in fifth grade, when we were dissecting frogs, that the best way to kill them was to hold one rear leg and slam the poor amphibian on the asphalt. Splat. Goodbye Kerokeroppi. There were only nine of us guys in our class in grade school, and pretty much we looked out for each other. I joined all the quiz bees, but pretty much stuck to Math since I was unbeatable in that department. I tried out for the track team in third grade (I came in third, there were only two slots), fooled with baseball also in third grade, tried to slam dunk (argh) with my brothers – even trying to overtake jeeps and trucks and tricycles in my bike. Ooo, don’t tell my mother that, she’ll kill me. Okay I’m digressing again –

We had fun, my brothers and me. We had “science experiments,” like seeing if Coke would boil like water, or telling our mother we were at the library when the truth is we were out playing video games and see if we get caught (we did). There was also that time when we were fooling around with matches out back, trying to see which leaf burns faster, or trying to find out whether a rock will burn your hand if you hold it after its been exposed to fire for a couple of minutes (ouch). We discovered that we shouldn’t play with matches near the water pipes, because once you do, somehow the flame will creep on those big blue tubes and we all get a spanking. I also discovered that no matter how angry you are, you shouldn’t rub gravel on your brother’s face because it will leave a massive gash that results to another spanking (he shouldn’t have broken Brick Red and Plum out of my Crayolas though). Or that you shouldn’t leave your five year old youngest brother tied up and leave him alone after playing Cops and Robbers while the two of you try to discover how strong the bedsprings are by jumping up and down, trying to touch the ceiling.

Oh yes, we had fun, but we had fun as brothers, never as friends. We had our own cliques. When I was a freshman in high school, I became a recluse, only going out of the house when I’m going to class or going swimming or eating out or watching porn with friends. I became a stranger to my own neighborhood. That was around the time when I started to get serious about literature, since high school meant a raise in my allowance and thus extra money to buy whatever I want, in this case, books. I was a bookworm ever since I was a kid, starting with comics (Spiderman and Funny Komiks, not much of a difference for me), then moving on with kiddie encyclopedias, finally graduating to my first Sidney Sheldon novel in second grade (this is embarrassing). Then I discovered Goosebumps, moving on to Choose Your Own Adventure and Choose Your Own Nightmare, then Fear Street, and in high school, Christopher Pike. Summer after sixth grade, I also discovered Stephen King. Adult and young adult, I never really saw the difference, as long as it’s a sheaf of paper bound on one side and with bunch of words printed on them, usually about monsters and ghosts and haunted houses/arcades/toys/schools/streets/cheerleaders. So, not much reason to go out and mingle with other neighborhood kids, is there?

Right now we have two sets of Stephen King books – one here in my apartment, and another set at home which my brother so stupidly collected even though I had copies of them. Although my brother Jegs inherited my (which I inherited from our parents) love for literature, he and Jed, the youngest, were closer to each other than any other permutation you can think of. Maybe because while Jed is growing up, leaving his years as a toddler and starting to go to grade school, I was boarded up in my room, reading.

Oh right now I feed both of them Death Cab and Jens Lekman, Ray Bradbury and John Steinbeck, Dungeons and Dragons and Star Trek, Donnie Darko and Rashomon. I scatter DVDs of The Last Temptation of Christ and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels on top of the coffee table, “accidentally” leave the Michael Chabon or Douglas Coupland book I was reading on the shelf and send a text message saying so before boarding the plane, replace all CDs in the car with my own mixes containing the latest Bright Eyes release and Jeff Buckley’s only studio album. So I guess I’m trying to make it up. Whenever I’m on vacation, we always stay up late, especially me and Jegs, watching TV or surfing the web, and when we’re tired, we lie in the dark and talk and snicker and horse around until the mother sleeping upstairs is woken up both by the airconditioning going off at 4 am and our loud voices. There were times when we dragged mattresses and pillows – no blankets – and lay on them on the porch, trying to see who can’t stand the cold first and go in and rummage for the thickest blankets we own. There was one Christmas when we did this, and my mother, who woke up early to hear the dawn mass, found us on the porch, wide awake, talking animatedly, shivering with cold, because we made up a story about blankets eating people.

The past couple of years, we’ve gotten closer. Technology has seen to that. Sometimes Jegs will text me “Hey I’ve seen the Spiderman 3 preview!” or “Some sick degenerate fuck texted me at 5 am, asking for a 5-peso Share-A-Load.” Or I will text him “Do you know the game Neverwinter Nights? I’m playing it now, you’ll like it.” or “I’m here in Rockwell standing beside Neil Gaiman while he signs my books.” Sometimes exchanges go like this. Him: “Have you heard of The Da Vinci Code? It’s quite popular.” Me: “Yes! No! Don’t read it! It’s a stupid book that will turn you into a sick fuck monster!” Another one. Me: “Hey, I’ve adopted a cat. Her name’s Kira.” Him: “I hope she chews your ear off while you’re sleeping.” How brotherly, eh?

Rich

2007-01-11T21:53:00.000+08:00

I don’t know why, but I’ve always been seen as someone who is rich. In fact, Kayamanan, has been my nickname for some time, which I certainly didn’t like (but which is definitely better than Brownie, which I got because I ostensibly liked dogs, and which I never answered to unless the users were those San Vicente kids). The name died the past year or so, but I’ve never lost the reputation of having a lot of money. Well, I am not rich. My family is not rich. Nope.

A couple of years ago, when I was still a probationary writer at the Philippine Collegian (but I was in no way young in terms of university tenure; I was a senior at that time), a rumor floated that I was a prince (like, you know, a king’s son, heir to the throne, king-in-waiting, royal blood, etc.). How ridiculous, I thought. But then I’ve only been in the Collegian a couple of months at that time, and didn’t really know the people there except for Jayson, who I’ve applied together with and had known in our 2nd floor years as student activists. Some conversations (transcribed from memory, as best I could):

Bheng (Graphics Editor at that time, vocalist for rock band Kiko Machine now): “Di ba anak ka ng Sultan?”
Me: “Huh?”
Him: “Prinsipe ka di ba, anak ng Sultan?”
Me: (chuckle) “Saan mo nakuha ‘yan?”

I didn’t pay attention to it, and had largely forgotten about that exchange until a couple of weeks later, when a similar conversation with another staff ensued.

Kat (probee Features writer then, Associate Editor now): “Jeeu, prinsipe ka di ba?”
Me: “Huh?”
Her: “Di ba prinsipe ka? E di ang yaman mo.”
Me: “Um, yeah.” (All the while thinking she was joking, and already assessing her joke-cracking skills as somewhat crass, corny and completely laughable for all the wrong reasons.)
Her: “Hindi nga, prinsipe ka talaga?”
Me: “Oo na nga.”
Her: “Grabe may kakilala na ‘kong prinsipe.”
Me: (belch)

So there. Prince Jeeu.

The point is, we’re not rich. We don’t go to Reykjavik or Sao Paulo or Naples for vacation, and nobody in my immediate family has ever been out of the country (Third World as it is, except for my father who works for a shipping company in Miami). We don’t have country club memberships, or various platinum credit cards (we don’t have any, fat lot of good will it do in the province), or own a fleet of luxury cars (we have a red van purchased fairly recently), or serve foie gras and merlot for dinner (my mother makes a mean tempura though, and I’m perfecting the creation of norimaki). We kids don’t own the latest mobile phones, or wear jewelry (come to think of it, what the fuck is the point of wearing jewelry aside from showing off that you can afford it, crass as it is?), or go backpacking in Katmandu with our friends (I once brought some of them to Boracay though, on the occasion of my 17th birthday). We are a middle-class family who moved to the province when I was 5, my parents sick of the city. We live a fairly normal life – no throwing of black tie soirees, no sardines and noodles meals either. Our house is completely forgettable, not a mansion, not a shack either.

When I was younger, having just started college, I used to live on an average of 20K monthly allowance (not fixed, depends on my mother’s moods). Fairly large for a 16 year old, but back then I was living the good life – sex, drugs and rock and roll, the whole lock, stock and shit. I partied a couple of nights a week with friends, bought whatever I wanted, ate wherever I fancied – but it has since dwindled down to around 12K/month, owing to my being an overstaying university student and the peso’s competitiveness against the dollar. That is still fairly decent, but I guess my friends now have allowances within that vicinity. And they still think I’m rich. Some examples:

In a halfway-swanky Japanese restaurant somewhere in Tomas Morato, after a disastrous “guesting” in a youth-oriented TV show airing Sundays in a UHF channel:

Me (to the waitress): “I’ll have Katsu in curry and (name unpronounceable) soup. And a glass of iced tea, please.”
Kat (the same feline mentioned above): “Ayan, pressure na naman.”
Jerrie (News Editor and cohort in a survey form-filling out racket): “Oo nga, pipili na naman ‘yan ng mahal.”

And the prices of our entrees (sans soups and beverages):
Me: P150
Kat: P130
Jerrie: P125

Okay so I ordered the priciest among the three of us. The price difference being twenty pesos, a measly orange bill that can’t even buy a pack of Marlboros or a bottle of mint-flavored iced tea. Big spender, huh?

Or how about that time when The Dark Tower VII came out, and I quickly rushed to PowerBooks (having a Powercard and there weren’t a lot of Fully Booked branches then) to secure a copy, having been saving money since when The Dark Tower VI release a three months ago. I went to the bookstore in the afternoon, and then proceeded to the office to write my article, book purchase and all. I tossed the plastic bag with the book along with my other stuff on a table. So naturally, people saw the PowerBooks plastic bag and investigated the contents, particularly noticing the numbers on the receipt stapled on the bag.

Ken (then Graphics Editor, now Vinzons resident): “Wow! Binili mo to?”
Me (still ecstatic about my purchase and itching to read it): “Yup!”
Him: “Ang mahal naman.”
Me (looking the price and thinking the same thing): “Yeah, pero hardcover naman at ten years kong hinintay to…”
Him: “Grabe ang yaman.”

The book cost P1665 then (it now costs P1749) – steep, even in hardcover standards. The dust jacket says $35, and I was glad it cost lower in pesos than what I initially computed. It wasn’t the most expensive book I’ve ever bought, but it was a book that I’ve waited half my life to read. And well, other people have their own vices. Some spend money on CDs or DVDs. Some constantly save money to have every latest mobile phone release. Some splurge on clothes. Some on action figures. The point is that all of us have something material that we want, and spend large amounts of money for. In my case, books. Sometimes when people around me say that some books are expensive, I agree generally, but sometimes insincerely, so as just not to be labeled rich. Example:

Jerrie: “May nakita akong Granta kanina sa FC.”
Me: “Binili mo?”
Him: “Hindi, ang mahal e.”
Me: “Magkano ba?
Him: “Two hundred.”
Me: “Ay oo nga.”

Two hundred is dirt cheap for a book. Oh not really, but books are expensive. I think the regular selling price of pocketbook edition pop literature is around P350. Trade paperbacks go for around P500-800. Pop hardcovers cost at least P1100. So, P200?

Well, Booksale. Sometimes you find treasures. I once found Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s La Sombra del Viento (P75), Joyce Carol Oates’s We Were the Mulvaneys (P90) and Ian McEwan’s Atonement (P45) all at once in Greenhills. About five years ago, I found a mint condition hardcover edition of John Updike’s Memories of the Ford Administration in Quiapo for P30. However, there’s no such thing as free lunch (except when you’re shoplifting, which I don’t do very often).

I am not rich. I am a regular guy. I have wants. A lot of them, which I can’t afford. Here’s a partial list:

1. Nintendo Wii (P30K)
2. Playstation 3 (P30K)
3. A pair or Siberian huskies (P35K each)
4. A telescope (at least P150K)
5. A dual-core processor (around P15K)
6. A high definition TV (anywhere between P150K-P1.5M)
7. A Blu-Ray external drive ($799)
8. Everything Jack Kerouac has ever written (can’t put a price on that)
9. A DSLR (at least P40K)
10. A fully-stacked chemical laboratory

And the list goes on and on. No houses or cars or anything corny like that. Just stuff I can enjoy at home (or well, I would have to take those huskies for a walk every now and then and bring the camera somewhere else to shoot, but that’s it).

So am I Kayamanan? No. Am I a prince? I could very well be. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Lorem Ipsum Beta

2006-12-26T05:03:00.001+08:00

Welcome to Cosmic Disorder 5.1, the first installment of the fifth incarnation of this web log. The code is only partially finished according to my plans, and will incorporate more JavaScript elements in the coming weeks. The welcome alert will be taken down after seven days, as well as the splash colors that appear (I'm just practicing, haha). Some DHTML and VBScript might also be included, provided I learn enough of them. An Internet Explorer only version is also partially done, to maximize the capabilities of that particular browser. For now, the best browser to use when viewing this blog is still Mozilla Firefox 2.0, although Opera 9.0 works fine too. Digg and deli.ico.us support will also be introduced in the coming days.

On the Road, All at Sea

2006-12-26T04:48:00.000+08:00

25 December

I spent Christmas Eve on the road and at sea. All flights were fully booked, and I made the mistake of not placing a reservation early. By the time I started calling the airlines, a week before when I was supposed to leave, there wasn’t an available slot anymore. So for the first time, I took the bus.

I left Cubao at a little past 12 and slept all the way to Batangas City. I didn’t get a shut-eye the previous night, and I figured I’d sleep all the way to home. By the time I boarded the ship to Calapan however, I realized this won’t be the case. The ships are crowded, and I was just lucky I found a good seat. I carried a book with me, which I read all the way to Calapan. It was awfully cold, and it was a good thing I brought with me a flask of whiskey. I started drinking minutes after leaving Batangas City port. By the time I got to Caticlan, I was halfway drunk and about to collapse from exhaustion.

The nightmare happened during the boat ride from Roxas, Oriental Mindoro to Caticlan. The ship was way too small, and people spilled from the lower decks like so much garbage. I climbed all the way up to the roof deck. It was bitterly cold. I was wearing two layers of clothes and a denim jacket on top, but the cold still seeped through.

My mobile phone stopped receiving transmission signals since Roxas, and I couldn’t read anymore. So I focused my gaze on the water and stared and stared. It helped kill time, like “Whoops! Where’d the last thirty minutes go?” I alternately picked out the constellations, but I quit after realizing I might have looked like a fool, staring at the sky like that.

When the ship arrived in Caticlan, people rushed out. It was horrible. We looked like refugees. Then I remembered the bridge scene from George Romero’s Land of the Dead and the exodus from Stephen King’s Cell. With all the alcohol in my system, I was grinning like an idiot as I boarded the bus for the final leg of the trip.

The last leg was uneventful, and my brother picked me up from town. It was Christmas Day and I was feeling like I’d just survived a war.

Missing History

2006-12-26T04:29:00.000+08:00

17 December

I would have gone to the protest action. I was bent on it.

I woke up early that day; I had a meeting with my boss. Quarter before nine, I was sitting in one of the campus’s more swanky cafés. My employer seemed to prefer talking with expensive food on the table. He sent me a text message that he was going to be late. I ordered a cup of coffee – hell, he was going to pay anyway. So I kept on downing one cup of coffee after another (their coffee came in rather small cups), smoking all the while. That’s one of the things I liked about my job – almost everybody in the office also smoked.

On the way to the café, I noticed a lot of people in red shirts. I was wearing a plain white long-sleeved top. Aside from it having a touch or formality, I was considering wearing it at that evening’s costume party so I wouldn’t be bothered on changing anymore. My thoughts turned to that afternoon’s rally. I was expecting the tuition fee increase proposal to be approved, me always the skeptic. Nevertheless, Quezon Hall was the only place to be that afternoon. Everybody was going to be there.

My boss arrived, and one by one, people started trickling in: the programmer, the web designer, some guy I figured was a former client, even my employer’s wife, who is a rather prominent broadcast journalist. Things turned out pretty fast. The software I was supposed to be working on was almost done, and I was told to meet them at 2 o’clock that afternoon at the office in Ortigas. I wanted to refuse, since I was going to the rally, but I needed the cash. I was a month late in paying the rent since I used last month’s money to pay for my tuition. So I agreed to go.

I figured that it was going to be quick. I only had to bring a laptop, get the software installed in the machine, and I had the rest of the afternoon. So I went home and lazed around for a bit. Around 1 o’clock, I figured it was time to go. I packed my computer in its bag, tossed the external CD drive in, poured a generous amount of pet food in the cat’s bowl, and went out. I didn’t want to take the train and the bus wasn’t an option, so I stood on the sidewalk to hail the first cab that passed by. I was actually on the wrong side of the street; I was going to Ortigas and all vehicles that passed me by were Fairview-bound. There was a U-turn slot 20 meters away though, so I figured I’d still get a ride.

Thirty minutes later, I was getting desperate. I decided to cross the overpass to flag a cab going the right way. Quarter before two, I was still on the street. So I motioned to one of those guys who flagged a cab for you in exchange of money. There were two of them, and I had both looking for a cab in a flash. One of them told me to get out of the street, the sun was baking my skin.

An hour later, they still had no luck. Almost every cab that passed by was already taken. Either that, or they didn’t stop at all. It was 3pm. I was getting really agitated. Thankfully, I managed to get a ride. Unfortunately, the traffic was hellish. The driver made unsavory comments about girls we passed by and I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with a cab driver. I dozed off. When I woke up, it was 4 o’clock and we were deep within the Ortigas Business District. I gave the driver instructions to where I was headed. The cab was still running when I slapped the cabbie a 200-bill. I didn’t wait for my change and instead dashed out the door and ran to the double doors of Prestige Tower. A lot of people waited outside the elevators. When one of them opened, I squeezed in – rather rudely – and told the operator the floor where I was headed. I was two hours late.

When I arrived at the 16^th floor (after a ridiculous amount of time, people were getting in or out at almost every floor), I was out of breath. I strode in the office and was ushered to the conference room. I plugged in the laptop I brought and waited. There were three other laptops on the oval table, but only one was being used. It was the programmer who I met earlier that morning. A few minutes later, my boss entered and fiddled around with one of the laptops. He opened a PowerPoint presentation and briefed me on the nature of the project.

While he was prattling on about the software, I texted Jerrie on the status of the rally. A lot of people came, the entrances of Quezon Hall were blocked, and the Board of Regents meeting hasn’t started yet. The PowerPoint presentation came to an end. The programmer started to ask me about the Lantern Parade. My boss commented on the BOR meeting. I said it hasn’t started yet and people were barricading the administration building. He laughed and said the regents were probably someplace else, perhaps Hotel Intercontinental.

The programmer started fiddling around with my laptop, but he couldn’t seem to install the software properly. He kept going back to his own terminal, perhaps tweaking the program here and there, and back again to my computer. Something was wrong. I felt my mobile phone vibrate. It was Jerrie again, replying to my earlier text message about the Lantern Parade being canceled.

After almost two hours of going to and fro, the programmer decided that he still needed time to work on the software. I hastily packed my gadgets, said goodbye, and strode out. It was rush hour, and I didn’t want to be squeezed like a sardine in the MRT. Cabs were sparse and far in between, and I was also wary about my earlier experience. So I walked the few blocks to SM Megamall and climbed aboard the first bus that passed by, robbers and pickpockets be damned. I wanted to join the rally, however late I was.

The bus was just turning to East Avenue when Jerrie texted, “Approved na siya, 7-0 huhu.” I felt all my strength drain. My youngest brother was to go to college in a little over two years. I was nagging him to go to UP since last year. I guessed that I was going to pay for his tuition even then, but hell, it was affordable. Now, he’s up to paying 1000 per unit – maybe even 1500, the full cost (it depends on the annual family income, and I didn’t know ours).

I got off the bus with all my valuables intact and walked the short distance to my apartment. Kat was texting where I was, the party hasn’t started yet, and they counted on me to bring my computer for the music. I fished a black beret from my closet, fished the toy gun we used while we were shooting Dalaw that summer, and went to the party. When I got there, everyone was sharing their anecdotes about the day’s events. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I fired off one question after the other, eager to know everything that happened.

So the party went on as planned, but with a more somber note. I got challenged to a drinking match, Jerrie got wasted rather embarrassingly, Kat went to sleep early, C-An was shocked by our behavior and Mang Romy was still pestering me to give him packets of instant coffee. My mother called me minutes before the party started, and I told her what happened at the BOR meeting. Lo, she was surprised (and I think a little disappointed) that I didn’t join the rally. But that’s how it goes, and here I am.

Ora et Labora

2006-12-26T04:25:00.000+08:00

15 December

Kat, Jerrie and I have become entangled in a surprisingly simple, yet outrageously time-consuming job. The hardware: 16000 survey forms. The software: SPSS. The payment scheme: A few bucks for each form. The task: fill up the forms and encode the results. Absurd, eh? So we scammed. Yearbooks, manifestos, telephone directories – even imagination. They got the job done.

The day we submitted rougly 20 percent of the work (after three sleepless nights in the midst of the Collegian campaign), the three of us were haggard, ridiculously shuffling thousands of forms in a café somewhere in EDSA.

The point however, is that the night before that, I was contacted by a job I applied to a month ago. I was told to expect a call a week after the interview. I didn’t get one, so I presumed I didn’t get it. Lo, it turns out they almost shelved the project because of the ConAss brouhaha (it involves a powerful software aimed at politicians and will be very useful come election time). If the ConAss came thorugh and the 2007 midterm elections didn’t, then who will they sell it to?

So when the ConAss got shelved, they scrambled to meet a January release, which is where I come in. The job is relatively easy, although I had to bring my laptop everytime I meet with the bosses (carrying a laptop while walking along Julia Vargas Avenue at night really did seem ridiculous, not to mention dangerous). Imagine getting paid twice as much as some jobs directly related to my bachelor’s degree in half the time.

So I went (forgoing the anti-TFI rally even though I wanted to join the barricade), got the software installed along with a few freebies needed to run the software e.g Microsoft.NET framework 2.0, mySQL server and an Open Source GIS generator. The last one was neat; I got to map mountains and rivers on the topography of my own face (or Paris Hilton’s for that matter). I’ll have to forgo my New Year to work on this, but I’ve never been big on that anyway. I hate fireworks (ones that are made for entertainment, that is, since I like the ones that are intended for destruction). I’ve actually asked Jerrie, a former Chemistry major, if he knew where to buy some types of chemicals. I’ve gotten ahold of a cookbook detailing the concoction of the nastiest types of explosives. I’m itching to experiment. But I digress.

Right after we submitted those sickening forms, I was also contacted by another job I applied to six weeks ago – a ridiculously long time for me. I’ve also assumed I didn’t get it. But now, well, let’s just say I’ll have a very merry Christmas.

Anyway, those aren’t real jobs (if real=timecard). The first one is project-based, although I think the bosses liked me well enough to offer me more than I applied for, like training politicians’ campaign managers in using the software, designing the user’s manual and all sorts of considerations once I complete my college education (which, obviously, is long overdue). The second one, well. I think I’m either going to love it, or hate it passionately enough to resign halfway through the first workload. We’ll see.

And this is what I learned: patience. Not being contacted a week after application doesn’t mean I didn’t get the job. So now I’ve applied to three jobs radically unrelated to the degree I’m pursuing (two as a programmer in VB.NET and ASP.NET, the other one as a web designer). All three are timecard jobs. Ah, and when I was just about to give up and trudge to the nearest call center in defeat.

La Vie Boheme

2006-12-26T04:17:00.000+08:00

11 December

Exactly one year ago, I moved into this apartment which we eventually called Frat House. It’s a one-bedroom unit on the second-level of an apartment complex. Back then, Caloy lived at the attic next door (named Alisha’s Attic after the band). There was a connecting door I left open most of the time. Divine lived below Caloy’s attic. Dada and the rest of the Narteas had a duplex opposite her. Over the next compound were Ellaine, Suyin, Pinky, Michael and Jerrie. Collectively, it was called the Balara Commune.

It was a riot (Jayson actually suggested we call my place Riot House, but I liked the sound of Frat House better). In the absence of an office, my house became the convergence point of scattered Collegian alumni. I wake up sometime around noon and Jayson or someone else will be knocking on the front door, or Caloy poking his head from next door asking me if I wanted to have lunch. Jayson, the Rent fan, once remarked that someone could just open their door and belt out, “Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes…” I have dozens of empty liquor bottles under my kitchen counter, evidence of our bohemian lifestyle. They’re varied too, from merlot to vodka to beer. My walls still carry the scars of Jayson’s toge explosion, and Anne Curtis still hasn’t gone to the dry cleaner. Last May, I adopted Kira the cat. She’s been living at the Frat House since.

La Vie Boheme eventually died down, and I’m now contemplating of moving to a new house in the same community. Ah.

First Blood

2006-12-26T04:06:00.000+08:00

3 November

Almost drew first blood earlier this afternoon while I was cruising around with my. I like flooring the accelerator, rarely falling below third gear in normal conditions. When we were about to go home, we passed by an elementary school. Classes haven’t let out yet, so I was confident. I sped through the school zone at around 50, only slowing down a little when I was about to make a turn.

Then, a kid suddenly appeared from the right. I slammed on the brakes. My youngest brother let out a yelp. The car screeched to a halt about 2 feet away from the front bumper. We stared at each other. I could see that he was a little scared, but I was just about to wet my pants.

The kid went on his way, and we slowly drove home. Later that night, we were just joking about it, but I’m listening to an obscure Radiohead song that took on a new meaning for me since then. It’s called Killer Cars. Nice, eh?

Vacation

2006-12-26T04:03:00.000+08:00

26 October

Forty-nine episodes of Lost. Twenty-one episodes of Entourage. Saw. Saw II. Evil Dead. Evil Dead II. Evil Dead III. Cube Zero. Cube. Cube 2: Hypercube. Night of the Living Dead. Dawn of the Dead. Day of the Dead. Land of the Dead. Shaun of the Dead. Final Destination. Final Destination 2. Final Destination 3. The Hills Have Eyes. Satanic. Boy Eats Girl. The Threat. The Descent. Dead Man's Shoes. Bloodsuckers. Silent Hill. Wrong Turn. Cabin Fever. Hostel. Toolbox Murders. The Graveyard. See No Evil. Mortuary. The Breed. Pulse.

Frat House Sampler Mix 1

2006-10-05T21:44:00.000+08:00

I made a CD for Jayson and Ellaine and promptly called it Frat House Sampler Mix 1. I took great pains in creating multiple playlists that would resemble that of iTunes Music Store’s Essentials. Each playlist I made has at least two loosely assembled themes which only I could understand, with a couple of wildcards, usually three to four tracks, thrown in the middle as transition. Each playlist runs less than 80 minutes, the length of an audio CD. Needless to say, I enjoyed creating the playlists, varying the progression and intensity of the songs.

While I was sleeping however, Kira deleted the entire thing. Eh no, the cat didn’t specifically open iTunes, select the playlist folder and hit delete; it’s just her predeliction to take a nap on the laptop keyboard, for the same reason that cats like it on top of the TV – the warmth. Her usual bed is the laptop bag, but sometimes, especially when it rains, she likes to either snuggle close to me or lie on top of the keyboard. I like to fall asleep to music, turning on the visualization option and staring at it while I drift off. Alas, I forgot to disable the touchpad before I zonked out. When I woke up early the next morning, Kira was crouching on the laptop, staring at me. I shooed her away, lit up my first cigarette and turned to the computer to start my morning playlist. Then the horror dawned – my playlist folder for Jayson and Ellaine was gone. I started a verbal tirade while Kira sat defiantly just inside the bedroom door. When I paused, she stalked off to the kitchen for breakfast, her tail straight up. True to her kind, she never looked back. Grrr.

I couldn’t punish the cat for something as petty as that, but I never shared with her the pancakes I made for breakfast just as well. I recreated the playlists as much as I could remember, but it’s clear in the final result that it wasn’t as good as the first one I made.

I. Essentials (06:33:37)
01 The Basics (01:18:19)
1. Sufjan Stevens – For The Widows In Paradise, For The Fatherless In Ypsilanti
2. Bright Eyes – Lua (With Gillian Welch)
3. Patrick Park – Something Pretty
4. Graham Lindsey – Matchbook Song
5. Damien Dempsey – St. Patrick’s Day
6. Collapsis – October
7. Elliott Smith – Twilight
8. Straylight Run – Hands In The Sky (Big Shot)
9. The Youth Group – Forever Young (Orig. Someone)
10. Her Space Holiday – The Doctor And The Dj
11. Beerjacket – The Bar That Never Closes
12. Belle And Sebastian – Loneliness Of A Middle Distance Runner
13. Bel Auburn – Metropolitan (Watercolor)
14. Damien Rice – I Remember
15. Timo Räisänen – Fear No Darkness, Promised Child
16. Bright Eyes – February Fifteenth
17. Sufjan Stevens – Chicago

02 Next Steps (01:18:15)
1. Bright Eyes – Padraic My Prince
2. The Gufs – Last Goodbye
3. Christopher Walla – London’s Favourite Son
4. Cursive – The Martyr
5. Death Cab For Cutie – Marching Bands Of Manhattan
6. Duncan Sheik – Longing Town
7. Elliott Smith – Memory Lane
8. Belle And Sebastian – A Century Of Elvis
9. Bob Dylan And Johnny Cash – Girl From The North Country
10. The Killers – When You Were Young
11. Finley Quaye And William Orbit Feat. Beth Orton – Dice
12. Franz Ferdinand – Fade Together
13. Jet – Move On
14. Jeff Buckley – Last Goodbye (Acoustic)
15. M. Ward, Conor Oberst And Jim James – Girl From The North Country (Orig. Bob Dylan)
16. Maria Taylor – Song Beneath The Song
17. Now It’s Overhead – Let The Sirens Rest
18. Imogen Heap – Goodnight And Go
19. The Magic Numbers – I See You, I See Me
20. Jenny Lewis With The Watson Twins – Handle With Care (With Conor Oberst And Benjamin Gibbard)

03 Deep Cuts (01:18:53)
1. Radiohead – Killer Cars
2. Joseph Arthur – Last Train To Ithaca
3. matt pond PA – New Hampshire
4. Joshua Radin – Someone Else’s Life
5. Nada Surf – If You Leave (Orig. OMB)
6. Jet – Look What You’ve Done
7. Sufjan Stevens – They Are Night Zombies! They Are Neighbors! They Have Come Back From The Dead! Aaaaah!
8. Pale Sunday – 1978
9. Snow Patrol – Hands Open
10. The Youth Group – Skeleton Jar
11. The Album Leaf – Twenty Two Fourteen
12. Ryan Adams – Note To Self: Don’t Die
13. The Walkmen – This Job Is Killing Me
14. Rilo Kiley – The Execution Of All Things
15. Talkdemonic – Final Russian-Mutiny Sunshine
16. Beat Path – Goodbye Beautiful Day
17. Bright Eyes – Trees Get Wheeled Away
18. Nelly Furtado Feat. Chris Martin – All Good Things (Unreleased)
19. Thom Yorke – And It Rained All Night

04 Wildcards (01:19:56)
1. Desaparecidos – The Happiest Place On Earth
2. Ben Harper And The Innocent Criminals – Sexual Healing
3. A.C. Newman – Miracle Drug
4. Her Space Holiday – Sleeping Pills
5. The Polyphonic Spree – Lithium (Orig. Nirvana)
6. Bright Eyes – The Alcohol Diary
7. Badly Drawn Boy – You Were Right
8. Damien Rice – When Doves Cry (Orig. Prince)
9. Jens Lekman – La Strada Nel Bosco
10. Beerjacket – Tragic Comedy
11. Bel Auburn – Lullaby In C
12. Django Reindhart – Echoes of Spain
13. Death Cab For Cutie – Steadier Footing
14. The Brokedown – Down In The Valley
15. Jamie Randolph – Chanson Du Vampire
16. Elliott Smith – Don’t Fear The Reaper
17. The Flaming Lips – Ego Tripping At The Gates Of Hell
18. Gnarls Barkley – Just A Thought
19. Azure Ray – November
20. Desaparecidos – Man And Wife, The Former

05 Loose Tracks (01:18:14)
1. Jens Lekman – At The Department Of Forgotten Songs
2. The Album Leaf – The Outer Banks
3. Arctic Monkeys – I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor
4. Bright Eyes – Arienette
5. Christopher Walla – Radio
6. Dashboard Confessional – Dusk And Summer
7. Death Cab For Cutie – Photobooth
8. Emiliana Torrini – Fisherman’s Woman
9. Iron And Wine – Southern Anthem
10. James William Hindle – The Great Woodland Summer
11. Jason Collett With Paso Mino – Hangover Days (Feat. Feist)
12. Honey Cone – The Day I Found Myself
13. M. Ward – Fearless
14. The Magic Numbers – Love’s A Game
15. Maps Of The Night Sky – We Were Young
16. Patrick Park – Desperation Eyes
17. Cursive – A Disruption In The Normal Swing Of Things
18. Air – Playground Love
19. matt pond PA – Grave’s Disease
20. The Walkmen – Revenge Wears No Wristwatch
21. The Subways – Staring At The Sun
22. Jose Gonzalez – Save Your Day

II. Bonus (03:34:36)
01 Hallelujah Mix 1 (01:07:22)
1. Bono
2. Allison Crowe
3. Damien Rice
4. Dresden Dolls
5. Susanna And The Magical Orchestra
6. Gavin Degraw
7. Jeff Buckley
8. Bob Dylan
9. K’s Choice
10. k.d. lang
11. Leonard Cohen (Original)
12. Rufus Wainwright
13. Kate Noson

02 Hallelujah Mix 2 (01:07:34)
1. Sheryl Crow
2. John Cale
3. Chris Botti
4. Clare Bowditch
5. Elisa
6. Eric Beverly
7. Erik Flaa
8. Euan Morton And Denise Summerford
9. Grum Lee
10. Kathryn Williams
11. Late Tuesday
12. Macbrolan
13. Lucky Jim
14. Tony Lucca
15. Imogen Heap

03 Conor And Sufjan (01:19:40)
Sujfan Stevens
1. She Is (Orig. Tim Buckley)
2. The One I Love (Orig. R.E.M)
3. Flint (For The Unemployed And Underpaid)
4. The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us
5. All Good Naysayers, Speak Up Or Forever Hold Your Peace
6. Casimir Pulaski Day
7. The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts
Bright Eyes
8. Soul Singer In The Session Band
9. Drunk Kids And Catholics
10. It’s Cool, We Can Still Be Friends
11. The Movement Of A Hand
12. A Song To Pass The Time
13. First Day Of My Life
14. We Are Nowhere And It’s Now
15. Road To Joy
16. Lover I Don’t Have To Love
17. When The President Talks To God
18. Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh

October

2006-10-01T02:05:00.000+08:00

U2

October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care

October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on...and on...

Storm

2006-09-28T19:40:00.000+08:00

It’s awfully cold because of the storm. Earlier, I bought a bottle of vodka – a small one, just enough to keep me warm. I would’ve wanted something dark, but any of the whiskeys in display was more expensive than what I got. I could’ve settled on a bottle of brandy, Empy or GrandMa maybe, for less than 1/10 of the price. But I’m drinking alone. And when I do, I like to do it in style.

Anyway, I am aware of impulse shopping, but I can’t help it. Marketing strategy makes things worse. Essential stuff, like bread, milk, frozen meat and canned goods, are placed out back. You have to pass by all sorts of wares on the way. When I went in the supermarket earlier, the first things I noticed were mooncakes, chocolates and wines – even quezo de bola. Ten minutes later, I got what I needed: cat food, toilet paper, cigarettes, candles, vodka, bread, garbage bags, shampoo and shaving gel. Another ten minutes and my basket was filled with chocolates, potato chips, nuts, conditioner, facial tissue, cookies, aftershave cologne, muriatic acid, floss, wasabi powder, nori, plastic cups (Kira broke my last mug this morning) and chopsticks. I paid 50 percent more than I should have, had I proceeded to the checkout counter immediately.

The storm reminded me of Stephen King’s short story (more like a novella) The Mist. The wind was awful and when it was over, the power was out and trees were lying on the street. Then there’s the supermarket scene. No mist and monsters ever came, nor was there a scary old religious fanatic wanting a blood sacrifice, but I still felt like David Drayton making his last grocery run. I thought of the Mr. McVey character, so I went and bought half a roasted chicken. I headed for home, boiled two large potatoes, mashed them when they were soft enough, and made more gravy for the potatoes. Then I devoured everything. What a supper. And now I have a tummyache. The Mist indeed.

A Movie Script Ending

2006-09-24T06:14:00.000+08:00

New layout, new blog title. Mouse over the Menu bar on that little thing at the top and a list of various places on the web where I can be found will drop down. Also, I've finally taken care of my Multiply account. I love it. I filled every category with stuff, especially multimedia. Link is on the menu bar, but I'll put it here anyway: Multiply.
I worked on the design for about 4 hours. I got the template from PageKits, just like my old one. PageKits layouts however, are geared for websites, not weblogs. So I had to edit the code, upload the style sheets and javascript to my own server and all that stuff. It looks great on Firefox, but there's a slight indent problem on the previous post links with Opera. For some reason, the Javascript doesn't fucking work with Internet Explorer, so IE users can't access the drop down menu.

Have to sleep now. It's 6:30 on a Sunday morning.

KASHWAK=NO-FO

2006-09-23T23:39:00.000+08:00

I finished Stephen King’s latest novel, Cell, in record time – all 350 pages in 11 hours. Lisey’s Story will be released 24 October, and he has another work in progress whose title escapes me at the moment. If this is “retirement” for The King, then it suits him good. These novels will never compensate for the disappointment that was the final volumes of The Dark Tower, but it will do.

Cell reminded me of a lot of King has written in the past, The Stand, The Long Walk and the novella-length short story from Skeleton Crew, The Mist. Cell is another of King’s apocalyptic visions, this time, using the ubiquitous mobile phone as the transmitter of The Pulse, a signal that wipes a person’s brain in the same way that an EMP will wipe a computer hard drive. A tribute to Richard Matheson and George Romero (he even dedicated the novel to those two), Cell is King’s take on the zombie story.

When I read the flap of the dust jacket and found the curious words KASHWAK=NO-FO, I thought that it was another Dark Tower related story. This is because the words are similar to the language of the can-taks in Desperation and The Regulators (also in Rose Madder), which is explained in The Little Sisters of Eluria, a piece of Roland Deschain’s journey to the Dark Tower before the events in The Gunslinger. I was proven wrong, but I still wonder if Cell is in any way, however obliquely, related to the Dark Tower universe, much like The Mist and From a Buick 8.

At the center of the tale is Clayton Riddell, as young graphic artist who got his big break in the comics business on the day The Pulse was first broadcast. His character is Stu Redman of The Stand, as well as David Drayton of The Mist. As he and his ragtag band of pilgrims (survivors who didn’t have mobile phones) make their way from Boston to rural Maine, I began to make the connection with The Long Walk. That one started in the Canadian border in Maine and went on to Massachusetts. Ray Garraty and the rest of the Long Walkers didn’t quite make it to Boston; Riddell and company started from Boston and headed north, short of making it to Canada although that was not their destination.

Their destination was Kashwak, Maine, a backwater town where no cellular phone signal has ever reached. They are led by ominous writings of KASHWAK=NO-FO much like Redman’s band followed similar clues in The Stand. Riddell is driven by his desire to reunite with his wife and son, just like Drayton in The Mist who went on an expedition to find his wife. In an oblique way, he also reminds me a little of one of the main characters – the artist (I can’t remember his name) – in the TV series Kingdom Hospital.

Riddell’s adversary is a nameless man who they have taken to calling the Raggedy Man, or the President of Harvard, who/which, in many ways, lead all the way back to Randall Flagg of The Stand and all his other incarnations in the entire Dark Tower universe. The father-son relationship, a recurring theme in King’s stories (especially in The Shining and From a Buick 8), also figures prominently in Riddell’s relentless search for his son. It is also present in Tom McCourt, a gay guy who is also a member of Riddell’s ka-tet, who has taken to “adopting” Jordan, a twelve-year old boy that approximates the character of Jake in The Dark Tower saga. Similar characters also popup, like Gunner (who reminds me of that bastard from The Stand) and Bible-thumping Bertha (Mother Carmody from The Mist).

The ambiguous ending is reminiscent of The Mist, wherein the characters still survive with nothing but hope to keep them going. It reminded me however, of the short story All That You Love Will Be Carried Away from the collection Everything’s Eventual, with only a yes or no outcome to be considered.

All in all, Cell is King revisiting his old stomping ground – and also pieces of himself he has scattered all throughout his stories. He might never regain some of his fans’ respect (including mine) after that Dark Tower blunder, but he still maintains clout over his thralls (that includes me) – those who can’t help but get their hands on every single thing he’s written. I have read everything from Carrie to Cell, but like the Cardassian Crell Moset, the Butcher of Bajor, I am a completist. The Dark Tower could have earned its place in literary history (well, in genre writing at least), mentioned in the same breath as Foundation (Isaac Asimov) and Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien), but instead, he threw out previous outlines and embarked on a self-serving journey that alienated longtime fans and turned off potential readers. But that is the subject of another article.

LJ

2006-09-21T00:12:00.000+08:00

I now have an LJ! It's called Funny Little Frog but the URL only reads funlittlefrog because some idiot signed up with the username but did not post anything. Just funny stuff, including the post below.

The Funniest Song Of The Year

2006-09-20T22:40:00.000+08:00

It’s not Alyssa Alano’s Keys Me. It’s not Weird Al Yankovic’s You’re Pitiful or Bitoy’s Mamaw and Ulam (although James Blunt, Kamikazee and Cueshe are funny too). It’s neither The Speaks/Barbie Almalbis’s High nor Paris Hilton’s The Stars Are Blind. The funniest song of the year is It’s All Coming Back To Me Now. Start laughing!

The Celine Dion cover, sung by Meatloaf and Marion Raven of I would do anything for love/But I won’t do that (huh?) and Pretty, pretty boy I love you (eh?) notoriety respectively, just tickles me to no end. It is a perfect example of Things An Old Washed Out Singer And A Forgotten Pop Kitten Wanting To Stage A Comeback Shouldn’t Do. I first heard the song during an FX ride from SM Megamall to Antel Global in Ortigas. The ride was short, but it was enough to finish It’s All Coming Back To Me Now and half of Hale’s Tollgate. Imagine the horror: I didn’t know if I should disembark or pray for the driver to turn the radio off. Not wanting to waste money (I’ve already paid my fare), I closed my eyes and sang Graham Lindsey’s Matchbook Song and Damien Dempsey’s St. Patrick’s Day in my head. When I was done, Antel was within sight. Well, I didn’t know who were singing then, but I assumed the worst: Christian Bautista and Rachel Ann Go consummating their horrendous relationship (a prime example of Pierre Bourdieu’s symbolic violence, according to Caloy) in an all-out screamfest, worthy of a visit to the shrink and the ear doctor, in that order.

Come on! Celine Dion was already torture, surely nobody would think about making people remember such horrors, right? Twenty percent of Canadians emigrated out of the country because of her! So the next day, I began my investigation to discover the perpetrators of such an attempt at genocide. My faith in Google rewarded me with a video download. A few minutes later, I was watching what must be an eight year old’s remake of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Even on mute, the visuals alone would have made Joseph Ratzinger fall to his knees and decry the beginning of Armageddon.

All that gore reminded me of Russian theorist Mikhail Bakhtin’s rehabilitation of Renaissance French writer Rabelais and his treatise on the carnivalesque. The unbridled lusting, crazed bingeing, primordial gaiety and even frolicking physical mutilation was a spectacle of the Renaissance carnival that approximates what Meatloaf and Raven did to themselves – and to the listeners/viewers. I will come short, however, of stretching this extravagant juxtaposition to the inversion of social themes and structure and the temporary suspension of hierarchies that represent a theory of resistance. Let it end at the gory part. Suffice to say, its temporal disorder and disregard for linear narrative reifies the carnivalesque characteristic of the postmodern. By way of ending, let me ask this: Does anyone have a copy of Nunal sa Tubig?

Technobabble

2006-09-15T21:48:00.000+08:00

I'm downloading iTunes 7.0 right now. I like cover art, and with the CoverFlow feature, I might just have art for my entire library (approaching 30GB now). Being cautious, I crawled the web to read about bloggers' initial reactions. Some are complaining about iTunes 7.0 being a memory hog - one user even provided a screenshot showing a 630MB RAM usage. Other screenshots are in the 100-200 MB range. Some are in the manageable 20-60, just like in 6.0. We'll see.

It has been an exciting couple of weeks for tech obsessed people. Software-wise, there's iTunes 7.0 and the just-launched iTunes movie store (not available in Asia because of piracy, but who gives a fuck). Windows Vista RC1 was also released sometime ago, and before that, Microsoft Office 2007 Beta 2 (I like the new Excel pivots!). The most exciting pieces of software to come out recently however, is Fairuse4WM, which strips Digital Rights Management (DRM) protection from WMA files, and myTunes, which does the same for AAC files downloaded with iTunes 6.0. There was also a similar one, Hymn, released late last year for iTunes 5.0. I won't have any need for them, but I like the idea anyway. And while Microsoft released a patch for Fairuse4WM, the sneaky coders behind the program is still one step ahead, releasing a new version immediately after. Haha!

On hardware, I noticed the first generation Blu-ray and HD-DVD drives sprouting all over the internet. So far, HD-DVD outsells Blu-ray, but it's predicted to change once Playstation 3 is released in November, which boasts of Blu-ray technology. Price: Blu-ray goes for at least $700, while HD-DVD is about $1000. Steep. PS3 will also sell at a starting price of $499. Argh. Format wars looming, reminiscent of Betamax vs VHS. Anyway, I don't have an HD television, so I won't have any use for either Blu-ray or HD-DVD as of now. I just like the the idea of getting to burn 25GB worth of files in one disc (50GB for dual-layer discs). An entire hard drive in one disc haha.

Speaking of hard drives, there's a 1 terabyte hard drive coming soon. Huh? That's 1024 GBs! What will you do with such space?! But with the arrival of the HD format, I guess we'll all be having those hard drives in, um...a decade? Next up is petabyte, then exabyte, zettabyte and yottabyte after that. An unofficial source indicated that 10^33 will be named vendekabyte (hee hee funny, no?) Well, I don't want to muddle this up further by discussing binaries and SI so I'll stick with the popular usage. However, there is a 74MB (70MiB) difference between 1GB and 1 gibibyte (GiB), so computing binary powers, 1 vendekabyte will be half of - oops, I would tell you what the equivalent to binary is, but I can't stop giggling about it - 1 vendebibyte. Good lord, long after we're dead, there might be 1 googolbyte hard drives (where 1 googol is 1 followed by 100 zeroes), or god forbid, 1 googolplexbyte (10 raised to the power of 1 googol) storage space.

Okay, here's 1 googol:

10 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000

Pretty uninteresting, right? Just 1 followed by a hundred zeroes. But imagine this: a standard 60GB hard drive will only have 60 000 000 000 bytes. That's a lot of space! So if you have 1 googolbyte of space...Argh, I'm tempted to compute 1 googolplex. Never mind.

Signal Theory*

2006-09-14T19:27:00.000+08:00

I
To trudge home, the long night –

Ah, there’s the cat anyway, fighting her own phantoms
while you, calling out from across space-time
reverberating philosophies from blurred photocopies and do-it-yourself encyclopedias.
Shatter the silence with obscure riffs and refrains,
drain the bottles, smoke the cartons,
close the bathroom door and set yourself on fire.

II
Cognitive mapping is a delicate task.
You stumble and you scream, and there are
thousands of lines of code scrolling in front of you: that is the Future.
That is also the ghost of a chance. Your temporal doppelgänger is nothing but

a simulacrum. You parse your life and you disappear
in a most spectacular flash of blinding light,
its spectrum slashed into chapters,
all its properties coalescing into an incoherent piece of a vague remembrance.
Anything and everything is summed up by a memorial service,
or a body consumed by flames. And you can ask and ask
questions that will never be answered in your lifetime. Asking is a step towards
the infinite, but it is also a foray into the realm of insanity –
a horrifying schematic

of schisms and appropriations, of differences between
sentience and animation. Suspend your judgment,
everything will be as it was. Behold! the cosmos –
and your last, greatest chance to be something infinitely greater than yourself.

Interlude
Hear the whistle, come back to bed. No amount of finger pointing is sufficient
to evoke once again a semblance of a life. Come now to the fires

of the future, all the arrows painted on the soil point to it
like glowing embers in an antediluvian Night.

III
The universe will be finite eventually, when it starts contracting unto itself –
all will unfold in reverse, until the crunch that signals
the reboot of the cycle. All is all, but then we’ll all be cosmic dust
strewn into the black vastness of space. All will be meaningless,
all our memories will spin further and further into the Void. This red shift

eventually ends to the black hole of nostalgia, and while
we search for each other in between unimaginable parsecs of Space,

all is still. The stars are calling out from across the reach, but in time,
memory turns into legend, then legend turns into myth, and soon
even myth itself cannot escape the clutches of Forgetting.

IV
What of the Rogue? While the Other is cloaked in the comfort of its own,
the shadows of a thousand drunken nights resound. Many have come,
but many have left you changed but still solitary in the spectacle of fleeting laughter.
Another epiphany! And yet the realization is hollow, and it all comes back to the conclusion that in the end, we are all alone –
fighting the phantoms we have created, drowning in the Poison of our consolation.
Go home, the long walk ahead is nothing compared to the wall of silence waiting in the familiar safety of domesticity.

*First draft. Rough. To be revised in the coming days.

Ecrits

2006-09-11T11:07:00.000+08:00

Browsed Eric Gamalinda's site and Sir Edel's blog last night and nearly OD'd.

I first came upon Gamalinda's poetry in 2001, when I found a copy of Lyrics From A Dead Language in the library. I didn't know who he was, but I liked the title of the collection, so I had it checked out (along with Nicanor Parra's Emergencia Poemas, whom I also didn't know, but was attracted by the title of the book). Needless to say, his treatise on memory was (and still is) a painful read. Zero Gravity was better, slimmer, but more powerful, with closing lines like: Forgive my happiness, I have betrayed you all from Enough, ...he knew a lot of things, but he never learned to shut up from Manifesto For Myself and ...the best thing about charity is that you can always walk away from Memory is not a Privilege of the Poor. I have picked my favorite line from The Remembered World, a piece from the upcoming Amigo Warfare. It goes: Memory is a territory no parliament has claimed.

On Sir Edel, for someone who hasn't written in thirteen years, he sure is prolific. I was overwhelmed by the wealth of material in his blog's Uncategorized section, which I presume is where he puts his new writings (well, the other pages' titles are those of his previous books anyway). From Steve Irwin to Gunter Grass, from people he knows to dead pet cats. I haven't read everything, but here are some lines I liked: We shall ask Memory to mark & remember/Also/We shall tell the Void that, after the infernal deed,/“there will be no silence” from Closure, the cosmos can only answer us/in a language we’ll never understand from The Bugsy Chronicle and You can run & be alone -/You can even haha! fall in love with yourself from The Running Game.

The Sunday Inquirer Magazine has published the interviews with this year's Palanca awardees, and Mykel's photo is at the top of everyone else. Congrats Mykel! Although you could have done without that collar turned up in the photo. Hehe. Ditto to Vlad, who I know only through extension (Kat, Caloy) and (eh?) Boni Ilagan and Joi Barrios. Haha.

Um, I don't know how to end this, so

Autonomy Under Seige: The Philippine Collegian and RA 9184

2006-09-11T02:06:00.000+08:00

The Philippine Collegian bears witness to a lasting tradition of independence as a student institution. It is a publication funded solely by the students, and for years has served as a salient representation of academic freedom and democratic rights. Throughout history, UP students have vigilantly fought for the publication's autonomy from all forms of administration intervention.

Once again, the Collegian's autonomy is under siege.

Using Republic Act 9184 or the Government Procurement Reform Act, the UP administration since June 2006 has blocked the release of the Collegian's printing funds. According to the administration's interpretation of RA 9184, all fees collected by the university are government funds—including the Collegian's funds. Under this false assumption, the UP administration insists that the bidding and selection of the publication’s printing press be facilitated not by the Collegian editorial board, but by the administration itself.

However, the Collegian firmly asserts that it is exempt from RA 9184. It is not a government unit, as it is funded by the students, not the government. Moreover, the Campus Journalism Act of 1991 stipulates that the editorial board should facilitate the selection of the publication’s printing press. The administration’s sole task is to collect the publication fee during registration, and thereafter give full discretion of handling of Collegian fund to the duly selected editorial board. The administration may not intervene in any of the publication’s operations.

In response to the Collegian’s arguments against RA 9184, the UP administration continues to deny the institution of its right to bidding autonomy. In our dialogues, the administration even questions the publication’s “independence” as basis for its exemption from the particular law.

We, from the Collegian, cannot accept this kind of reasoning. To allow the Collegian to subject itself to RA 9184 is tantamount to surrendering its autonomy as a student institution. Even now that the publication’s inclusion in the law is still in question, the UP administration is withholding the publication’s printing fund to coerce the Collegian to submission. Such is why the previous Collegian issues were delayed, while pending issues have not been printed. RA 9184 thus compromises the publication’s fiscal autonomy.

Moreover, allowing the Collegian to subject itself to RA 9184 would set a precedent for the UP administration to thereafter inflict the same law and intervene in the operations of publications and other student insitutions in all UP units. In fact, the UP Diliman University Student Council’s publication Oblation is also being subjected to this law.

We from the Collegian view the administration’s insistence to subject the publication to RA 9184 as an assault against the publication’s autonomy. We call on the administration to recognize fully the independence of the Collegian as a student publication. We demand that the administration uphold the Collegian’s fiscal autonomy, specifically its right to facilitate the bidding process.

The Collegian is accountable only to the students, who are its sole publishers. Thus, we call on all students to protect the autonomy of the publication. This issue is a clear manifestation of administration intervention, and a direct attack on campus press freedom.

Uphold the Collegian’s autonomy!

Defend campus press freedom!

Protect the independence of all student institutions and organizations!

Gawd

2006-09-10T03:39:00.000+08:00

That last post's Way Too Chaotic. Hm. One of the computers here has a Really Strange Wallpaper. It is a photo of Paris Hilton being kissed by Some Girl. It's disturbing, but I don't have the courage to replace it. I'm too scared to even Come Nearer.

I'm fidgeting a lot right now since the pasta I ate for lunch and the tapsilog I had for dinner has decided to Leave My Body. It's controllable, which is a Very Good Thing. Caloy handed out printouts of Eric Gamalinda's work in progress earlier tonight, and I was Really Amazed.

Late this morning I had a Very Funny Experience at the supermarket. I had Just Woken Up and Wanted Some Milk so I went to get some. While lining up at the checkout, an Old Hag was arguing with the Poor Cashier over something I couldn't hear. There were still four people in front of me and I was getting Really Impatient because I've been looking forward to Drinking The Milk I bought. The girl in front of me looked irritated, and Her Irritation irritated me because I wanted to be The Only Irritated Person In The Room. I swore in Tagalog, which I think offended the other girl behind me, which was Very Good, because I felt like offending people at that time. Around five minutes later, the Old Hag was Finally Gone, and the line inched forward. I never really found out what the Cause Of The Argument was, but I did find the Old Hag on the sidewalk outside picking up Packets Of Noodles and Bars Of Laundry Soap from the ground, her Torn Plastic Bag lying forlorn next to the pink MMDA fence. There was A Can Of Fruit Cocktail inside and What Suspiciously Looked Like sanitary napkins. I sneered a bit as I went past her, which I know was Really Rude, but I was thinking "You Get What You Give". Then I went home and Drank The Milk, ignoring a Very Annoyed Kira begging for at least a drop of the Very Delicious Liquid I was ingesting.

I just found it funny because I remembered something Harvey Pekar wrote about Standing Behind Old Jewish Ladies In The Supermarket Checkout Lines.

Why Can't That Happen To Me?!

2006-09-09T23:28:00.000+08:00

I forgot to include in the Countdown to October post: Firefox 2.0. I'm using Beta 2 now, and I like the Recently Closed Tabs feature. I wouldn't advise the browser to those using public terminals though. My one complaint: the Connection Settings button is now hard to find, lodged inside the Advanced tab. More mouse clicks just to change proxies, grrr.

Compiling a Why Can't That Happen To Me?! list. First off, some lyrics: Now it's two o'clock/The club is closed and we're up the block/Your hands on me/I'm pressing hard against your jeans/Your tongue in my mouth/Trying to keep the words from coming out. Why can't that happen to me?!

I read nine Star Trek books in two weeks. Four of them from the Homecoming and Spirit Walk duologies (of the post-Endgame Voyager), another four which is the entire Section 31 series (one each from The Original Series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and VOY), and the DS9 pilot Emissary. I'm about to start on the third volume of TNG's Double Helix six-part series (read the first two last year). Still no official word from Paramount on STXI. I'm getting tired of waiting. And I've gotten into some serious bantering and debating on the IMDB forums...I'll take a peek at the BBS then.

Don't have the energy to blog the last few days. Most of the time I'm either drowsy or asleep, sometimes I can't tell which is which. I'm listening to Cursive right now (lead vocalist Tim Kasher is Conor Oberst's bandmate in Commander Venus circa 1994). Checked out their side project Desaparecidos too, which is a harder brand of rock from either Bright Eyes and Cursive, and way too much political. Chris Walla's (of Death Cab) solo effort is also great, and so much different from DCFC (maybe largely because of the absence of Ben's voice).

We were assembling (theoretically) PCs for the office earlier. For 40k, we're looking at a graphics/web station: P4 3.2 Ghz with 1GB RAM, 80GB HDD, 128MB VRAM, and a much cheaper drafting computer: Sempron, 256MB RAM, 64MB VRAM, 80GB HDD. We still can get a laser printer and a scanner with the money left. Yoohoo. I've got an idea what to get for myself, but of course that's purely theoretical: Athlon 3200+, 1GB RAM, 256MB VRAM, 250GB HDD.

The coffee is getting on my nerves.

Countdown to October

2006-09-07T07:58:00.000+08:00

5. Christopher Nolan - The Prestige
4. Stephen King - Lisey's Story
3. Bioware/Atari - Neverwinter Nights 2
2. Bright Eyes - Noise Floor (Rarities 1998-2005)
1. My 22nd birthday

October
Collapsis
Dirty Wake (2000)
Cherry Records

Pumpkin seed gonna get you soon.
Cous cous, kitchenware, attitude...
Nothing more than an acorn shell.
Yeah this is my October.
Shadow me accordingly.

Nothing more than a bit too fast.
Fall down, hit the ground, not meant to last.
Nothing more than a need to yell.
That this is my October.
Let me die.

Since I've been running out of empty,
All I have is candy bars
And costumes to defend me.
You say,
"We used to taste so sweet."
Do I look like candy?
Do I look like candy?

Pumpkin gonna get too quick.
Cous cous, kitchen wear, I'm full of shit.
And nothing more than a need to yell
That this is my October.
Shadow me accordingly.

And I never thought we'd break this ground.
Fall down, hit the ground, don't make a sound.
It's been nothing more than a big cheap thrill.
Yeah yeah this is my October.
Let me die.

Since I've been running out of empty,
All I have is candy bars
And costumes to defend me.
You say,
"We used to taste so sweet."
Do I look like candy?
Like candy
Like candy
Like candy

Ya, da, da, da'm gonna die
Yeah this is my October

I don't even know seven people!

2006-09-03T05:22:00.000+08:00

Eh, Kat tagged me so I have to comply lest I turn green and black and die or something horrid like that.

That was an attempt at sarcasm, by the way.

Seven things I want to do before I die:
1. Discover the warp drive or terraforming technology
2. Play poker with Stephen W. Hawking/Fredric Jameson
3. Be the next rock boy genius, get tagged as the latest "next Bob Dylan." Live up to it. Or at the very least, start an indie label. In other words, be Conor Oberst.
4. Read as much books as I can, hoard as much music as possible, access any film I want to see (incidentally, I also want to write, make music, and be a filmmaker and get kids to quote me in their papers, musicians to "sample" my tracks and directors to use my stock footage)
5. Backpack all over South America (how predictable)
6. Witness/commit a random act of violence (more blood, more body parts hanging out, more fun)
7. Commit a high-profile crime (e.g. hacking, espionage)

Seven things I cannot do:
1. Touch a roach
2. Program in C++
3. Go to church
4. Speak Swahili
5. Snap my fingers
6. Watch chick flicks
7. Write like Tolkien

Seven things that attract me to both a boy and a girl:
1. Matalino/may cultural capital
2. Maganda ang taste sa music (importante ito, ok lang sa kin kung nagbabasa siya ng Paolo Coelho at Dan Brown at nanonood ng koreanovela basta okay ang musical preference)
3. Basta hindi scandalous na isisigaw ang pangalan mo kahit nasa jeep siya and you're on the sidewalk. The geekier, the better
4. Naaapreciate ang mga genre ng science fiction, fantasy at horror
5. Pro-piracy (well, to a certain extent)
6. Open-minded at imaginative (ayoko nung, ay objective ako e, or neutral ako diyan)
7. Humourous kausap

Seven things that I say most often:
1. Um
2. Hala
3. Shit
4. Haggard!
5. Putang ina
6. Fuuuuuck
7. Ano ba yan, ang tanga-tanga lang talaga ni ______. (hahaha!)

Seven books I love to read:
(authors na lang, puwede?)
1. Jack Kerouac
2. Douglas Coupland
3. Harvey Pekar
4. Jorge Luis Borges
5. Star Trek novels
6. H.P. Lovecraft
7. Neil Gaiman

Seven movies I could watch over and over again:
1. Donnie Darko
2. Almost Famous
3. Before Sunrise/Sunset
4. Chungking Express
5. A Clockwork Orange
6. L'Appartement
7. Tesis

Seven people I'm tagging to do this survey:
1. I DON'T EVEN KNOW SEVEN PEOPLE!
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.

(P)reviews

2006-09-02T05:24:00.000+08:00

At first glance, I thought that Darren Aronofsky's upcoming film, The Fountain, just reeks of commercial blah. Starcrossed lovers, tree of life, immortality, blah blah blah. 1500 AD, present day, 26th century. Hugh Jackman, Rachel Weisz. But then, I watched the trailer and read the prod notes. It's not CGI but microfootage of chemical reactions on petri dishes. Whew, what a radical shift from Requiem for a Dream huh?

If you hate Alfonso Cuaron, Children of Men fuels the reason to hate him more. What a racist. Children dying, old people remains, world coming to an end. Black girl turns out to be pregnant, human project, blah blah blah. I'm guessing, with Cuaron, the ending of the film will feature Clive Owen fucking Julianne Moore and starting a new generation blah blah blah. It's an adaptation of a PD James novel. But hey, Charles Dickens wrote Great Expectations, right?

Christopher Nolan is just fucking brilliant, but casting Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale as magicians is um, I don't know, weird? Bale IS Bruce Wayne, but after seeing the trailer of The Prestige, I'm not impressed. Jackman flat out just sucks. I'm seeing it for Christopher Priest, Nolan, and a remote chance to see Scarlett Johannson bereft of clothing.

MF2 B2

2006-09-02T03:36:00.000+08:00

Mozilla Firefox 2.0 Beta 2. Yahoo!

100

2006-09-02T03:19:00.000+08:00

Hooray! This is my 100th post. Well, there are a couple of drafts, but who cares. I love my epigraph of the week!

Well, the timing's perfect, since I've started a new blog here. Conor Oberst sings in Lua, "If everything gets lonely I can be my own bestfriend." Hence, the new blog. He also sings in Going For The Gold, "If I could talk to myself like I was someone else, then maybe I could take your advice and I wouldn't act like such an asshole all the time." Maybe it's time to put some things in perspective. My Emo Doppelganger is now up and running.

I'm writing my first entry for Ficciones. But The Dharma Bums is still empty. Like me.

A Song To Pass The Time

2006-09-01T09:10:00.000+08:00

Yahoo! I just finished five articles for Pinas and Paraiso. That's after three cups of coffee and 18 sticks of cigarettes. Three nights ago, it was four cups of coffee and 16 cigarette sticks.

An excerpt from a letter from my father: (I mean, who writes letters nowadays? But it's not mailed, it was passed by hand.)

Son, I will be very happy (emphasis mine) if you will quit smoking. I read from USA Today that (he rambles about the case by tobacco companies here on misleading the public and is now forced to alter cigarette labels). Ako I went cold turkey talaga dati at kahit ngayon, 2 years later, medyo nahihirapan pa rin ako. I hope that you have kicked the habit by the time I go on vacation again.

Well, I am not quitting.

On other things: my current musical preference, alt.country and folk-rock. Right now, I have Damien Dempsey's St. Patrick's Day on repeat. The Irish accent provides the drama, the lyrics laments on Irish politics and history, the arrangement dates the song in the contemporary. Also listening to Graham Lindsey (he looks so scary), specifically Matchbook Song. Frankly, he looks like a drummer for some scary rock band rather than a country singer. And well, Bright Eyes of course makes it in my playlist. Right now I keep singing A Song To Pass The Time from Fevers and Mirrors. It's beginning to nag at me: Is this my blog or is this a Bright Eyes fan site? I can't get enough of his locales. It's sadder than the things the persona in the song goes through. A lot of male singer/songwriters are compared to early Bob Dylan right now, but for me, Conor Oberst is the contemporary Bob. He's a good songwriter, he's political, he's prolific. I am 400 words into a Bright Eyes review. I just hope I get to finish it. Hell, I have THREE Star Trek reviews in my blog folder, none of them less than 800 words, all of them unfinished. I have a 1500 essay on Silent Hill, and it's also unfinished. If you're bored, this song might help you.

A Song To Pass The Time
Bright Eyes
Fevers And Mirrors (2000)
Saddle Creek Records

There is a middle-aged woman she's dragging her feet.
She carries baskets of clothes to a laundromat.
While the Mexican children kick rocks into the street
and they laugh in a language I don't understand.
But I love them.
Why do I love them?
So the neighborhood is dimming as I smoke on the porch
and watch the people as they pass enclosed inside their cars.
And on their faces just anger or disappointment.
I start wishing there was something I could offer them.
A consolation, what could I offer them?
When they are sad in their suburbs robots water the lawn
and everything they touch gets dusted spotless.
So they start to believe that they haven't touched anything at all.
While the cars in the driveway only multiply.
They are lost in their houses.
I have heard them sing in the shower
and making speeches to their sister on the telephone.
Saying, You come home.
Darling, you come here.
Don't stay so far away from me.
This weather has me wanting love more tangible.
Something I can hold because it's getting cold.
So lets hold up our fists to the flame in the sky
to block out the light that is reaching for our eyes
because it would blind us. It will blind us.
Now I have locked my actions in the grooves of routine.
So I may never be free of this apathy.
But I wait for a letter that is coming to me.
She sends me pictures of the ocean in an envelope.
So there still is hope.
Yes, I can be healed.
There is someone looking for what I concealed in my secret drawer,
in my pockets deep,
you will find the reasons that I can't sleep and you will still want me.
But will you still want me?
Well, I say come for the week.
You can sleep in my bed.
And then pass through my life like a dream through my head.
It will be easy. I will make it easy.
But all I have for the moment is a song to pass the time.
A melody to keep me from worrying.
Oh, some simple progression to keep my fingers busy.
And some words that are sure to come back to me and they will be laughing.
My mediocrity. My mediocrity.

The End Has No End

2006-09-01T01:58:00.000+08:00

Okay, can't think of a title for this post so I just used a song by The Strokes. It's lodged in my head since yesterday when I clicked an old playlist I was about to delete (I didn't).

I was reading my mail yesterday and encountered this really hilarious exchange in my Dungeons and Dragons egroup. The debate about the new half-breed race is getting pretty intense (especially with the half-dragon, half-human breed). Now one clever guy said, "How about 1/3 elf, 1/3 dwarf, 1/3 orc? They would hate themselves." He was referring to some races' dislike of others. Someone quickly retorted, "How do you get one-thirds?!" And that sent me to the floor. How indeed?

I had a drink with Floyd, Caloy and Piya earlier tonight and, not surprisingly, academic banter crept into the conversation. Like when Floyd fished out Jacques Lacan's Ecrits from his bag and Caloy showed off two Pierre Bourdieu books he was doing a report on. Lacan of course, drew the conversation to Slavoj Zizek, and I remembered he has a new book just out, The Parallax View, where he "rehabilitates dialectical materialism." I've read the reviews, but not the book itself. I'm curious. Zizek is one eclectic thinker, as opposed to the colorful brevity of Theodor Adorno. Meanwhile, I'm exploring Alan Badiou right now.

By the way, here are two movies I've been looking forward to seeing:

Bright Eyes, Dark Lens

2006-08-29T06:22:00.000+08:00

Taking a break from writing, I logged on to Friendster. And then impulsively edited the captions of all my photos there. Now, they are all under the titles of songs by Bright Eyes. Maybe I'll take it further and rename all the photos in my computer. I'll have to update my Flickr too...

Hooked Up

2006-08-29T02:49:00.000+08:00

I am now again in the SMS loop. Still using my old number. Send me chain messages and I WILL MURDER YOU.

Lean And Mean

2006-08-28T05:42:00.000+08:00

You are looking at my current desktop configuration. I blogged yesterday that I liked to be lean, lean is mean anyhow, but that's not entirely true. And while I'm pretty much an idiot when it comes to hardware, peripherals and other stuff lodged in and/or hanging out of computers, I like software. I like little bits of programming that can make some stuff easier, or give your computer nifty abilities. I just don't like a lot of add-ons and plug-ins, not if they're not necessary.

So while I have Export to MS Reader and Blogger for Word add-ons in MS Word, pdf995 (PDF export), LCP (password cracking), WinAce (allinone file compressor), Folder Lock (for hiding files and folders), Pretty Good Privacy (encryption), TweakNow PowerPack (for well, tweaking), I opted out of itty-bitty plugins for Photoshop and InDesign. I have an audio/video converter and audio/video capture, but I chose not to install every damn plugin they offer. I try a lot of Firefox add-ons though, but remove them right away of they're not really necessary.

So what am I doing with DesktopX? It just kicks ass. While I sacrificed some valuable memory, it didn't really hurt a lot (well, not if I don't have it running at the same time as iTunes, Photoshop CS2, InDesign CS2, Warcraft and a slew of other memory hog programs). I have a pretty good machine, not top of the line anymore of course, but pretty much it has decent features. So for now, I have a visually appealing desktop. I can afford the RAM it eats anyway. But if my system crashes (while not very likely, but it's a distant possibility), I'm gonna eat shit.

Lost In Translation

2006-08-28T01:59:00.000+08:00

I only noticed this recently, since I'm using the defaut Gmail preferences. When I checked my inbox using one of the computers here in the office, the language called my attention. I mean, I know there's a Filipino language Gmail preference and have encountered it many times before, but it is just now that I really took notice.

Loading is Ikinakarga. Read more is Alamin pa. More than n megabytes (and counting) is Higit sa n megabytes (at nagbibilang pa). Login is Pumasok. Create a filter is Gumawa ng pansala. But perhaps the funniest would be this one: Refresh is Sariwain.

Because if you don't, your mail will become bilasa.

The Code

2006-08-27T15:36:00.000+08:00

What's yours?

GED/J ds: a-- C++ UL++ P+ L+ E? W++ N+ o? K w+ o- !M V? PS++ PE-- Y+ PGP+ t+ 5 X++ R tv- b+++ DI+ D+ G e++ h+ r- z--

Techno Mania, from Browsers to Encryption

2006-08-27T01:54:00.000+08:00

In line with my last post (which I wrote the other night but posted only now) - no, not about the living things - about the part which made me write that crap, here's an elucidation.

So browsers huh. As I've said, I'm using Firefox 2.0 Beta 1. I kept the current release, Firefox 1.5.0.6, just in case the beta is bug infested. So far, I'm enjoying Firefox's new features, like importing bookmarks from Opera (mmmm) and Internet Explorer (like, ew), option to reopen closed tabs (I observe people using Firefox and still opening multiple windows - weeeeird) and feed readers among other stuff.

But I also went back to old school Mozilla, just to see how it goes. So far, so good. Read a lot of stuff in Bugzilla, technobabble I know, but it's something to do.

What tears me apart though, is Opera 9.01. I love Opera. I've been using it in the pre-Firefox days (well, not when it was still ad supported with pay) and I still use it now. One thing missing from Firefox is Opera's Transfer tab, where you can view everything you're downloading in an interface eerily reminiscent of any given P2P service. Firefox opens a small window when you download something, and while it's definitely better than IE6, it still is another window to clutter the taskbar. I like things lean, and that is why I use Firefox add-ons and Opera widgets sparingly. There are a lot of things about Opera one can obsess on, but this one's right up there.

Microsoft announced that IE7 is going to be a push update, meaning once released, it will be part of Windows Update, rather than you going to the chaotic Microsoft site and download it yourself. Checked IE7 Beta and it has tabs too. Well, about time Bill.

I can maul Microsoft all I want but in the end, I'm also curious about the upcoming Vista OS. It is speculated that Vista might give Symantec and co. a run for their money, since Vista does not allow kernel modifications just.like.that. But knowing how shitty Microsoft is about security, it won't take long. Trust me. And they're talking about a virtual Vista upgrade by 2008 or 2009. Blech.

What I'm really itching to try now however, is FreeEngima, just released a few days ago. I now have an account. This is going to be very, very useful for some people I know (even to myself, whenever, if ever I get around to do stuff I should be doing). It installs as a Firefox add-on, but my, it might be one of the best add-ons ever. Oh, FreeEnigma is all about email encryption by they way. I have yet to discover how encrypted the data will be (in bits), but the To:, Cc: and Bcc: fields aren't covered - just the body. So if you receive email from admin@letsspammicrosoft.org or support@alqaeda.biz, snoopers won't be able to read your email, but they'll know you're corresponding with such people. Eh.

And talking about encryption, Relakks is this season's P2P. Oooo, Swedes really kick ass. Relakks is a P2P service that uses 128-bit encryption in its VPN tunnel (like the encryption level credit card companies and online banks use. Wait, I have a Python code that can decrypt credit card numbers encrypted using the whaddafuckIforgot algorithm). Without the technobabble, it is a file sharing service that masks your internet protocol address, making you look like you're surfing from a jungle in Brazil, an islet in French Micronesia, or an unrecognizable ice shelf in the Antartic even if you're actually George W. Bush, Britney Spears or the Dalai Lama. The Recording Industry Association of America can't catch you downloading the juiciest celebrity sex videos, the entire seven season run of Star Trek Deep Space Nine or Bob Dylan's entire catalog (44 albums!). No lawsuits. Haha!

Launched last week, Relakks costs 5 euros/month or 50 euros/year. Cheap, compared to pro versions of most P2P. After Pirate Bay, here comes Relakks. Sweden, here I come! Relakks folks. Hahaha!

Living Things

2006-08-27T01:53:00.000+08:00

Ha. I am absolutely not the type to write stuff like this. But I’ve been thinking the past few days (maybe it’s the haircut, hopefully, the euphoria will ebb away soon), maybe I need a little change to spice things up a little. I’m a little bored anyhow.

Back to it. I really enjoyed this Digg post that analyzes what kind of person you are based on your browser of choice. Haha, I liked that MS IE 5.0 and Netscape 7.x and below part. Well, according to my site counter, most readers of this blog use either MS IE 6.0 or Mozilla Firefox 1.0/1.5. So I guess my friends are basically normal. A couple used Safari (congratulations, you’re on Mac!) and that’s it. I’d have liked it if someone using Lynx happened to drop by (that’s kickass man), but after a visit from someone from Google Labs earlier today, uh, I’m quite...never mind. For the curious, I’m using Mozilla Firefox 2.0 Beta 1.

Now back to it, really. So I went home and happened to notice how Kira has grown a lot. Fat ass, nice fur, snotty attitude, really playful. So I remembered a part from a Douglas Coupland novel that your pets tell you what kind of person you are. So here’s my take. Well, maybe this only applies to single guys in their 20s. Just having fun you know.

Male Dog – Well, at least you’re still capable of forging relationships. But you are a dog too. Especially if the dog is named Max.

Female Dog – A really cute pair. Sensitive type, but not vocal about it. Mature, but not all uptight about it. Knows how to have fun. Decent, presentable and a good guy overall. That’s what I want. I’m going to get one in the future, name her Jedi, and she’ll give birth to a pair of pups I have decided to call Belle and Sebastian.

Male Cat – Either you have a lot of money, or none at all. Either you bought your cat for a ludicrous sum of money, or found him on the street. That doesn’t really say much, but hey I’m not a shrink.

Female Cat – Kira is a female cat, so this is what I am now. I don’t really know how to describe myself so I’ll leave this blank. Well, just one. I think I’m a little whiny. And I like emo. I don’t have any piercings anymore (they healed), I don’t shave my legs or put on nail polish and black makeup, but I listen to the music. The more sober ones.

Plants – What a teenager. You are athletic, so you don’t have much time for pets, but plants are living things too, so it’s a cop-out. But I’m thinking of getting some plants myself so...

Flowers – Hands down. You’re gay.

Moss, molasses, algae and the likes – You’re a slob. And you can find these in the kitchen sink.

Hmph. Figured I’m no good at this. Back to my old self then.

8

2006-08-25T20:31:00.000+08:00

And then there were eight. The much-discussed International Astronomical Union conference in Prague ends with Pluto being booted out of the "classical" planet category and demoted to being "dwarf" planet, along with Ceres, the largest asteroid, and 2003 UB313. This is a radical departure from last week's proposal of expanding the planet count from nine to 12 (Ceres, Charon and 2003 UB313). Although both proposals have their equal share of supporters and detractors, only 424 out of an estimated 10,000 astronomers around the world were present during the vote.

The definition of "planet," which includes "has cleared the neighborhood along its orbit," is problematic. Using this definition, Neptune, Jupiter and even Earth should also have been kicked out. Neptune for having Pluto and other trans-Neptunian objects in its vicinity, Jupiter for having countless Jovian objects in its orbit, and Earth because of thousands of near-Earth asteroids nearby.

Letting Pluto keep its status as a planet however, and adding Ceres, Charon and 2003 UB313 (I keep using this official term; I don't like the nickname Xena) will expand the planet count everytime a new trans-Neptunian object is discovered. We might have hundreds of planets if this proposal came through. Michael Brown, the discoverer of 2003 UB313 was quoted saying "I may go down in history as the guy who killed Pluto."

My take: When New Horizon reaches that part of the solar system in 2015, who knows what could happen? It is certain that a new definition of "planet" is coming in a few years, and a reboot is inevitable. Meanwhile, I am more interested in the confirmation of the existence of dark matter. Now that's uberacademic and perhaps not a lot of people wouild care. And I like it that way.

I am more titillated by cosmology and cosmogeny that semantics anyway.

Padraic My Prince

2006-08-24T19:12:00.000+08:00

Two very sullen looking boys outside the salon, minutes before their manes got chopped.

Only Mr. Sprout doesn't seem happy, but then, he's missing a tooth.

One day later

Padraic My Prince
Bright Eyes
A Collection of Songs Recorded 1995-1997

I had a brother once
He drowned in a bathtub
Before he had ever learned how to talk
And I don’t know what his name was
But my mother does
I heard her say it once

Padriac, my prince, I've all but died
From the sheer weight of my shame
You cried but no one came
And the water filled your tiny lungs
Appear, my dear, and cry for me
It was six years ago today
That we laid you in your grave
Your sweet young skin was shining then too

And so tonight to celebrate, I will, I will poison myself
Another coughing, shaking fit in a bathroom that is spinning

So I close the door and rest my head on the tile floor
Sickness and sleep turning me cold
I'm still not sure
Is there some better place I should be heading towards?
Where the selfishly sick and self absorbed are welcome

I saw the future once
I was drunk in a phone booth
My eyes were wet and red
But I could not tell what was said
And through the screams of the traffic
Voiced carried, saying, "Im sorry"

On a day so gray it's black inside
Watching churches on tv
In a coma you don’t dream
You just hope that someone sits with you
Babies turn blue when they're ignored
Like the sky on summer days
Before you turn and walk away
It has changed you

So tonight to compensate, I will, I will poison myself
Another coughing, shaking fit in a bathroom that is spinning

Fanboy Wetdream

2006-08-23T21:04:00.000+08:00

This blog's been getting a lot of attention because of my post about proxy sites a while back, even turning out at the top of the list when searched from Google. Just when I was beginning to be a prolific blogger, putting my name on some posts and relaxing a bit. Well, back to secure mode now.

I'm still thinking of something short, but witty enough to post here. Also stumbled upon a PHP code on mySQL that can turn a simple flash drive into a hacker's tool by stealing your IP address and giving the coder complete control of your computer. Hmm, have to try that sometime. Of course, I'm not posting the link here.

Looking at A LOT of photography on the web the past few days. Two links I enjoyed a great deal: Muller and retouching. There's a slew more, but they're in Deviant Art. Just visit my dA account and click on who I'm watching.

Also revived my interest in learning Python. Went back to Star Trek books and reread some of my favorites. Someone's selling me a heap of Rolling Stone back issues (and boy, they're good issues) and five Tori Amos cassettes. I'll take the mags, but not the tapes. Anybody want them, message me. The guy needs money. The stuff are with me if you want a look-see. The Amos list: Boys for Pele, From The Choirgirl Hotel, Under The Pink, Venus Orbiting and Venus Live Still Orbiting. I'm not really interested since I can only listen to Amos in small doses. Like one song every once in a while. She's good though, so come on, buy them. And they're vintage. Cassette tapes, good lord.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the really thick Rolling Stone Special Photo Edition Double Issue (1967-1999), published in October 1999. And a special Uncut issue on Bob Dylan. Whee!

And Karl just called me "National Artist for Indie Pop" in the latest wave of recruitment ads. I can't say I'm pleased, but it's better than National Artist for Emo Punk or National Artist for Whiny Music.

The International Astronomical Union is voting tomorrow. I can't wait! And well, a Star Trek video game is released (in time for the 40th anniversary September 8, I'd have liked to go to the convention...) featuring all five captains. And that's every fanboy's wetdream. I'm getting a copy very soon.

Current playlist:
1. Bitmap - Dream Brother
2. Sufjan Stevens - They Are Night Zombies! They Are Neighbors! They Have Come Back From The Dead! Aaaaah!
3. Jens Lekman - I Saw Her In The Anti War Demonstration
4. The Youth Group - Forever Young
5. Django Reinhardt - Echoes of Spain
6. Bel Auburn - Metropolitan (Watercolor)
7. Straylight Run - Hands In The Sky (Big Shot)
8. The Silver Jews - Punks In The Beerlight
9. Pale Sunday - I Know It's Over
10. Bright Eyes - Lover I Don't Have To Love

Stupid

2006-08-21T02:36:00.000+08:00

Hmm...I like this *goes to Digg* The 4th World Stupidity Awards. 20 September.

Dear Diary,

2006-08-20T23:17:00.000+08:00

Mood: Apathetic

My life is spiraling downward. I couldn’t get enough money to go to the Blood Red Romance and Suffocate Me Dry concert. It sucks cause they play some of my favorite songs like “Stab My Heart Because I Love You” and “Rip Apart My Soul” and of course “Stabby Rip Stab Stab” And it doesn’t help that I couldn’t get my hair to do that flippy thing either…like that guy from that band can do….some days you know...

My life is just a black abyss... ya know...it’s so dark. And it’s suffocating me, grabbing a hold of me and tightening its grip, tighter than a pair of my little sisters jeans...which look great on me by the way.

My parents don’t get me ya know. They think I’m gay just because they saw me kiss a guy…well, a couple guys …but still, I mean it’s the 2000’s, can’t two…or 4 dudes make out with each other without being gay. I mean, chicks dig that kinda thing anyways. I don’t know diary, sometimes I think you are the only one that gets me…you’re my best friend. I feel like tacos.

The Emo Song [link] and [link]. This is a tribute to my new hair. Photos coming soon. Very soon. Just wait and see. You'll see. You'll all see.

PS. I'm thinking of going to the movies this week. I want to see that Snakes on a Plane thing. I've been swamped all over with all the hype the past few months, especially in forums and egroups. Let's see if it lives up to the hype. I've been getting good feedback. Emo Snakes on an Emo Plane, yeah! [link] and [link].

Outscooped

2006-08-17T19:24:00.000+08:00

Got outscooped today. Twice. Let me get this first one out of the way so I can focus on the more interesting one.

1. Finalized the editorial for an upcoming issue yesterday, but due to some problems with the press, it's not in print yet. The piece was about the collapse of the Doha round of the World Trade Organization, entitled No Tears for Doha. Early morning, I grabbed the paper to get my daily news fix, as well as check out the Opinion page. Lo and behold, Belinda Olivares-Cunanan's column for the day was called No Tears for the WTO. It's my habit to read her everyday, since it makes me feel better about myself, reifying the established fact that I am indeed a very intelligent person. Well, we published on the web at a little past midnight, so technically, we still got to it first.

2. I was idling on the internet yesterday, just reading stuff. One tab I keep on refreshing was CNET. I noticed a particular news article suddenly appearing near the bottom of the page, and it's about the International Astronomical Union's (IAU) meeting in Prague. The update: a proposal was submitted, expanding the planet count of the solar system from nine to 12. Pluto keeps its status as a planet, joined by Ceres (the largest asteroid), Charon (Pluto's moon) and 2003 UB313 (nicknamed Xena and discovered last year). The proposal will be put to vote next week. If approved, Ceres will be the fifth planet, between Mars and Jupiter, Charon the 11th (since Pluto is 10th) and 2003 UB313 the 12th.

I was supposed to blog about it immediately after reading, but I wanted to watch the third season of The OC again so I figured I'd do it the next day. I thought such an interesting, albeit very academic update won't be noticed immediately. But it did, and it was on the front page of the Inquirer today. So that's it, I was outscooped. I'm still seething with rage.

Two From Bright Eyes

2006-08-11T19:59:00.000+08:00

Another one of those "Fame is Bad" songs, but coming from Bright Eyes, it doesn't sound so bad.
Soul Singer in the Session Band
Album coming Spring 2007

See the soul singer in the session band
Shredded to ribbons beneath the microphone stand
Felt the quickness of pity like a flash in a pan
For the soul singer in the session band

Now a red carpet bagger makes a blackberry call
To the plastic pirhana in the city of salt
Wasted wheat paste campaign post no bills on the wall
You mean nothing to no one but that's nobody's fault

See the soul singer in the session band
Shredded to ribbons beneath the microphone stand
Felt the quickness of pity like a flash in a pan
For the soul singer in the session band

I had a lengthy discussion about the power of myth
With a postmodern author who didn't exist
In this fictitious world, our reality twists
I was a hopeless romantic, now I'm just turning tricks

Just like that soul singer in the session band
Shredded confetti beneath the microphone stand
Saw the conflicts of interest, slipping cash in the hand
Of the soul singer in the session band

Now his room is on fire since he painted it red
There's a stranger, silk sequins at the foot of the bed
He's been to weddings and funerals, but he still never wept
Now sorrow is pleasure when you want it instead

Just like our soul singer in the session band
Wailed like an infant atop a white baby grand
We'll need every sand bag and every man
To save the soul singer in the session band

Alright, one over there, one over there, one over there, perfect!

Headlights or taillights, it's a flip of a coin
I've been coming and going since the day I was born
And I followed the bread crumbs but I never got home
I grew old in an instant, now I'm all on my own

Just like that soul singer in the session band
Shredded to nothing beneath the microphone stand
Saw the wave of the future through the crack of the dam
Drowned the soul singer in the session band
Bless the soul singer in the session band

George W. Bush is a fucking baboon.
When The President Talks To God
When The President Talks To God 7"
Performed live on Leno May 5, 2005

When the President talks to God
Are the conversations brief or long?
Does he ask to rape our womens rights
And send poor farm kids off to die?
Does God suggest an oil hike
When the President talks to God?

When the President talks to God
Are the consonants all hard or soft?
Is he resolute all down the line?
Is every issue black or white?
Does what God say ever change his mind
When the President talks to God?

When the President talks to God
Does he fake that drawl or merely nod?
Agree which convicts should be killed?
Where prisons should be built and filled?
Which voter fraud must be concealed
When the President talks to God?

When the President talks to God
I wonder which one plays the better cop
"We should find some jobs, the ghetto's broke"
"No, they're lazy, George, I say we don't
Just give them more liqour stores and dirty coke!"
That's what God recommends

When the President talks to God
Do they drink near beer and go play golf
While they pick which countries to invade
Which Muslim souls still can be saved?
I guess God just calls a spade a spade
When the President talks to God

When the President talks to God
Does he ever think that maybe he's not?
That that voice is just inside his head
When he kneels next to the presidential bed?
Does he ever smell his own bullshit?
When the President talks to God?
I doubt it
I doubt it

This Is A Nightmare

2006-08-09T19:37:00.000+08:00

Matt Damon is rumored to be up for the part of Captain James T. Kirk in Star Trek XI. WTF?! And this is just after it was officially announced that Heath Ledger plays Joker in Batman: The Dark Knight. What, are we gay now? Ooops sorry. But after Jim Carrey, Ledger doesn't quite fit the part. And now Damon as Kirk? Blasphemy. To think that this year marks Star Trek's 40th anniversary.

What's next? Josh Hartnett as Han Solo? Tara Reid as Scarlett O'Hara? Paris Hilton as Cleopatra? Jesse McCartney and Lindsay Lohan as Bonnie and Clyde? Grrr.

See Kirk's reaction upon hearing the news here. And even if you don't care about Star Trek, it's still fun.

Christian Bale/Gary Oldman/Michael Caine/Morgan Freeman/Heath Ledger
Batman II: The Dark Knight (technically Batman VI)
Coming 2008

I Am In Love

2006-08-07T08:35:00.000+08:00

with her. I asked her out for coffee, and now she's not replying. It's been 9 hours. I think I'm gonna be sick. Being on the other hemisphere doesn't help either. And my crappy deviations. I should have stuck to Zafon and his novels. The conversation was much better then. She's Dutch. I love milkmaids! Anyway, it's been so long since I've er, proposed undying love to girls on the internet. I guess it's been at least a year. I rarely visit OkCupid anymore.

Enough of foolishness. I'm just bored. I'm watching the third season of The OC with Kat and Lec and we're halfway through. We're like, "Kepi edit kita in 5 minutes, I just have to finish this ep" and "Hoy Jeeu pagkatapos ng susunod na episode magtrabaho na tayo ha." Kat has this blog entry about the show, I have one too here. The fourth season premieres November 2. I don't think I'm going to enjoy that as much as I did the first three. Especially the first.

Neverwinter Nights 2 to be released in October. At least 256MB VRAM. I really am gonna be sick. Star Trek's 40th anniversary September 8. Star Trek XI slated for a 2008 release. Too far away. Christopher Nolan's adaptation of Christopher Priest's The Prestige on limited release in October. Haven't found a copy of the book yet, except for a 1st edition that goes for P5000. The Dark Tower comic by Marvel scheduled in April 2007.

Not onlt I am bored, I am also exhausted at the same time. Paradox heh heh. I think I'm gonna take Wednesday off. Buy a new battery for my phone, maybe see a movie (haven't seen Superman and Pirates yet). Better yet, stay at home, start reading again, just space out. I'm looking forward to a bottle of beer and Beerjacket, Elliott Smith, Bright Eyes and Jeff Buckley.

I have a sudden obsession with hyperlinks.

Academic Groupie

2006-08-01T03:31:00.000+08:00

It must have been all that Slavoj Žižek I read. Or my frustration at not having seen movies I’ve been waiting quite sometime for {[X-Men 3: The Last Stand, Superman Returns and Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest], so I had better not miss Richard Linklater’s A Scanner Darkly (my schedule for May 4, 2007 is already booked for Spiderman 3)]}. Or maybe my irritation at Kira’s preference for a particular brand of cat food {Friskies, she hates Whiskas [I fed her Alpo for an entire week at the height of my annoyance (dog food is cheaper, and Gani Tapang said there wasn’t much of a difference anyway)]}. Or perhaps, my absolute lack of social life {the Collegian doesn’t count, and even when my mobile phone still worked [the battery has been busted for a week now; it would only take about five minutes to fix it have I had the time to visit the nearest Sony Ericsson service center], nobody ever told me anything or invited me anywhere [the last couple of times I went out, it was convenient since I was just there and was dragged (more like I dragged myself along) by default]}. Or maybe nobody wants me around anymore.

Notice how I placed the parentheses, braces and brackets in their proper mathematical positions – I’ve been reading Jacques Lacan too and his mathemes reminded me of my dormant interest in mathematics.

That’s how distracted I am. So when I went to interview Jonathan Beller at the Chocolate Kiss cafe last Saturday (didn’t mean for that to rhyme), I really wasn’t prepared, and had only three hours of sleep the previous night. Well, I was quite disappointed at first that Neferti Tadiar didn’t tag along (and Kat said they were “kaladkarin”), but as the interview went underway, I was quite relieved to be spared from more embarrassment. The cafe was quite crowded that day (the wait list was as long as my arm) and the rain added to the noise. Moreover, Dr. Beller’s thick American accent prompted me to follow his every word, preventing me from thinking in advance what I would say or ask next.

And Kepi wasn’t much of a help either. He arrived halfway into the interview and asked two or three questions, tops. How embarrassed I was? Start laughing...now. I started on Fredric Jameson and was yakking quite a bit on globalization and the standardization, more like Americanization, of world culture, before I realized that Beller was actually a student of Jameson and was an American. So I digressed and agonized over Žižek’s problematics. Then he started talking about Žižek’s writings I haven’t read yet. It went on for quite a while, digressing from Mikhail Bakhtin to Michel Foucault and Jonathan Benthon. While these thinkers’ ideas fit in with the general trend of the conversation, my fragmented thinking didn’t give the discussion any sense of direction at all. And did I mention I hated interviewing people?

So when he left (just to the other table, where Sarah Raymundo was), I stuffed myself with pasta and cake and coffee and ranted to poor Kepi (who escaped from class to go to the interview). Then I went back to the Collegian office and slept.

When I woke up, it was time to confront the Dark Ages. No reprieve. Then I had to go back to my article and Žižek. No rest for the wicked.

Current playlist:
1. Jeff Buckley - Satisfied Mind
2. Death Cab for Cutie - Brothers on a Hotel Bed
3. Bright Eyes - February Fifteenth
4. Interpol - Evil
5. XTC - Spiral
6. The Deadlines - A Winter's Dawn
7. Badly Drawn Boy - Pissing in the Wind
8. The Postal Service - This Place is a Prison
9. Death from Above 1979 - Blood on our Hands
10. Sufjan Stevens - The Man of Metropolis Steals our Hearts

Open Letter to Slavoj Žižek

2006-07-27T04:34:00.000+08:00

Came across this one while hunting for Žižek's articles. An intellectual boycott? Er. Isn't this taking it a bit too far?

We at the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI) have received with concern the news of your participation in the Jerusalem International Film Festival next month. Since a clear majority of Palestinian civil society has called upon international academics, artists, and intellectuals to boycott Israeli institutions due to their complicity in maintaining Israel's occupation and oppression of the Palestinian people, we strongly urge you to reconsider your participation in this event. At a time when the international movement to isolate Israel is gaining ground in response to the escalation of Israel's colonial and racist policies, we urge you-as a person of conscience--to reflect upon the ethical implications of your accepting an invitation to take part in a festival that not only enjoys the support of the Israeli establishment but is also part of Israeli efforts to appear as a "normal" participant in the "civilized world" of science, scholarship and art while at the same time practicing the most pernicious form of colonial control and racism against Palestinians.

We believe that participation of international academics and intellectuals in conferences, festivals, or similar events in Israel not explicitly dedicated to ending Israel's illegal occupation and other forms of oppression only enhances Israel's image as a center of learning and the arts, and contributes to the propagation of the untruth that scholarship and politics or art and politics should be kept separate and that business as usual need not be disturbed by the intrusion of "politics." We are certain that as a conscientious scholar you do not subscribe to such formulations that can only be construed as complicity with the status quo. Remaining silent in the face of injustice is not different from acquiescence to it, we are sure you will agree.

The Jerusalem Film Center, under whose auspices the Festival is held, describes itself as "a tribute to pluralism, dialogue, co-existence, cooperation and the quest for freedom." The idyllic description of the opening festivities of the 2005 Festival "in the shadow of the Old City Walls" is in flagrant disregard of the appalling political and social reality behind the ancient walls of occupied East Jerusalem or indeed behind the other, illegal, Wall that is engulfing Palestinian land, ghettoizing Palestinian Jerusalemites, and blocking the access of other Palestinians to their metropolis.

We wonder what the Festival's sponsors have done to condemn the occupation, the Wall, or the longstanding policies of exclusion, discrimination, and outright apartheid practiced by city planners, government agencies, and successive mayors of Jerusalem, the most notorious of whom was Teddy Kollek, a generous patron of the Center. You may not be aware that the Jerusalem Film Festival receives the ongoing support of the Israeli Ministry of Education and Culture, as well as the Jerusalem Municipality and the office of the mayor. All of these institutions are key nodes in the structures maintaining the colonization of East Jerusalem. Once the Jerusalem Film Festival denounces the Wall and Israeli policies in Jerusalem and declares that no "coexistence" can flourish under apartheid, and once it severs its links to the centers of state power, then it will have taken a courageous step and joined the real civilized world that believes that "coexistence" in the shadow of occupation is not possible and that the "quest for freedom" requires taking a firm stand for equality and against oppression.

As a conscientious scholar, you are acutely aware that Israel has flaunted international law for several decades. Since the hegemonic world powers are active agents in acquiescence to Israel's colonial and other oppressive policies, we believe that the only avenue left open to achieving justice for Palestinians is sustained work on the part of Palestinian and international activists for justice to put pressure on Israel to end this oppression. Given the grave circumstances in which Palestinians find themselves at this juncture, we believe that a campaign of boycott, divestment and sanctions (BDS) is the most morally and politically sound way to achieve this. You may be interested to know that in July 2005, the first anniversary of the International Court of Justice's ruling on the illegality of the Wall and the occupation regime, more than 170 Palestinian civil society unions and organizations issued the Call for BDS as a non-violent form of resisting Israel's oppression. The Call issued by PACBI for academic and cultural boycott of Israel has also received widespread support from federations of academics, professionals, writers and artists, and from civil society organizations in Palestine.

We hope that you will not grant legitimacy to oppression by participating in this Festival, no matter how laudable the film you will be speaking about there is. Your mere presence at the Festival will give solace to the centers of power bent on giving a beautiful face to an ugly reality.

Yours sincerely,

Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel

The Palestinian Call for Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) is endorsed by over 170 Palestinian union, association and other civil society organizations. The Call and the list of signatories can be found at:
http://www.pacbi.org/boycott_news_more.php?id=66_0_1_10_M11

Dirty Money and Other Dirty Stuff

2006-07-22T05:28:00.000+08:00

Dirty money goes a long way. It was only supposed to be a meeting for V's new newspaper, yet no meeting happened. Only conversations, the sort that I'll be eternally grateful for.

Roll call: V, D, E and SJ, C, K, J, R, B and SM. B left early since he had to change for his band's gig at the concert (more on this later). K's got dirty money from her job, so after getting our coffee fix at Oz, we went to Likha Diwa for dinner. J and Y are now a couple, so it's kind of weird, but good. I hear Weezer singing heh heh. D updated us about her Bayong scandal, R told us about his LB dormmate, SM narrated his sexual harrassment experience and they pestered me into telling them about RT. A lot of Andy-bashing followed, but I wasn't really listening anymore since I took hold of K's iPod and scribbled on a little piece of paper what I wanted.

K yakked on about Apple Orchard's music, then questioned me why I don't like The Pipettes, then went back to her slosh. I chose around a terabyte worth of music before handing her back her iPod, who scanned it and forced me to listen to The Pipettes while she shoveled grub into her maw. Stereolab, Primal Scream, Snow Patrol, Pale Sunday - I can't wait.

There was a concert at the Lagoon, so we checked it out but got bored so E and SJ suggested we have a drink. K, that hairless monkey, couldn't be coerced into spending the night at E and SJ's house so we dropped her off at Philcoa. To Javis we headed and talked about some dirty stuff about PC. By this time, it was only me, V, C, R and E and SJ. I heard more than I bargained for, but it's okay, since I also got to discuss, for the first time, things I was angry/confused/not confident about. Insert more Andy and FuckFace-bashing. As I paraphrase C, "May araw din sila."

My current playlist:
1. Johnny Cash - If You Could Read My Mind
2. Jeff Buckley - Strange Fruit
3. Nelly Furtado feat. Chris Martin - All Good Things
4. Snow Patrol - Hands Open
5. Primal Scream - The 99th floor
6. Itchyworms - Beer
7. Led Zeppelin - The Ocean
8. Le Tigre - Deceptacon
9. Broken Social Scene - 7/4 Shorelines
10. Alyssa Alano - Keys Me

Browser Problems

2006-07-19T02:31:00.000+08:00

I only noticed recently that this blog does not display properly in Internet Explorer. Foolish me, ever since Firefox 1.0 came out, I never used any other browser, not even to test. So all you IE, Opera, Advanced Browser and Safari users, better switch to open source software now.

Grrr. Collegian layout problems. The pirated copy of Adobe InDesign CS2 installed in the graphics computer just expired, and the newspaper template cannot be read in the lower versions of InDesign (believe me, I installed InDesign 2.0 and InDesign CS to test). We tried to install the software in the other computer, but the RAM fell short of the minimum. I recommended reformatting the graphics computer to erase the InDesign CS2 registry entry, but it's too much of a hassle. I know a bit about registry editing, but I don't want to experiment yet since the little I know is dangerously little. "I just wanted to crack the game...I didn't mean to crash your computer...It's the registry's fault..." I also recommended swapping the RAMs of the two computers, but I'm a software guy - I'm such an idiot when it comes to hardware. So now, it's two-thirty Wednesday morning, and the layout hasn't started yet. Anyway, I'm not the layout artist and I still have a column to write.

My current playlist:
1. Death Cab for Cutie - A Movie Script Ending
2. Bright Eyes - Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh
3. Belle and Sebastian - Loneliness of a Middle Distance Runner
4. The Magic Numbers - Love Is Just A Game
5. Ben Jelen - Come On
6. The Gufs - Last Goodbye
7. Fall Out Boy - Sugar, We're Goin' Down
8. Pale Sunday - Punk Rock Girl
9. Thom Yorke - And It Rained All Night
10. The Postal Service - The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Ficciones

2006-07-19T01:38:00.000+08:00

I will be moving my "other" blog here from its previous home at MSN Spaces. That way, I'll be only managing one dashboard for three blogs. It's not complete yet, and I only used a premade template from Blogger, but it's running and I have some test posts published. By next week, the move will be complete. By the way, this blog is called Ficciones. As the title, everything posted in the blog will all be fiction. Hello Jorge Luis Borges!

The Morning After

2006-07-10T12:21:00.000+08:00

I'm still a bit woozy because of that party the other night. Finished Fahrenheit 451 and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime yesterday and it feels good to read something and finish it. I've begun Philip K. Dick's A Scanner Darkly and really really liking it.

Portugal lost the third place playoff to Germany 3-1. Italy wins the 2006 World Cup on a 5-3 penalty. France captain Zidane ends his stellar career in humiliation. Well, I don't care for either France or Italy, so perhaps this ends my World Cup ramblings. So much for rah-rah team sports.

Rica dragged me to Gilmore yesterday (or maybe I volunteered, I don't remember), while still wearing my previous night's clothes. I actually went to church, and I can't even remember the last time I've been in one. So I watched people sing Hossanas, Hallelujahs and stuff. I sat there, stood when everybody else did and knelt when I had to. It's fucking surreal. But hey, I'm not complaining.

Literary Vacillations

2006-07-08T14:47:00.000+08:00

I felt a little better after reading Ellaine’s latest blog post about how she was reading multiple books at the same time. I thought it was a bad idea doing that, but I couldn’t help it. I should have been reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, but then I got sick and I couldn’t read so I stashed the paperback in my locker. I figured I should be reading something light, so I started on Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, enjoyed it, but then got tired of it two-thirds into the book.

Next, I opened Philip K. Dick’s A Scanner Darkly, but figured I must go back to Karamazov, so I abandoned it again. But Dostoyevsky can be really tiring, so I searched for another book to read. Then I came upon the novelization of Superman Returns, so I got into that too. But I figured I should watch the movie first, so I didn’t even bother to finish the first chapter.

Getting tired of all this vacillations, I opened H.P Lovecraft’s Dreams of Terror and Death (the one Neil Gaiman introduced) and read two stories. The same night, I dreamt about Merwin, my former roommate who was killed at the Beta Way last year. He had all these green stuff falling out of his arms, and he asked me how I was. I couldn’t answer because I knew (in the dream) that he was dead so I threw the question back at him. Then he got angry and that’s all I can remember. When I woke up, I figured it must have been Lovecraft, so I put the book back in my locker again.

Just this morning, I picked up Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. I should be able to finish it in a day or so. It was a pleasure to burn...

My current playlist:

Death Cab for Cutie – Marching Bands of Manhattan
Bright Eyes – Padraic My Prince
Pale Sunday – 1978
matt pond PA – The Moviegoer
The Magic Numbers – I See You, I See Me
Belle and Sebastian – Dirty Dream #2
The Postal Service – We Will Become Sillhouettes
PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke – This Mess We’re In
Brendan Benson – Cold Hands Warm Heart
Weezer – We Are All On Drugs

P.S It’s the free week, so I don’t have to worry about editing articles and writing columns this weekend. I figure I’ll spend the time with my cat Kira. She’s grown a lot since the last time I noticed! Meow... And there's this party...

P.P.S Okay, I'm sharing! A Scanner Darkly - get Portable Document Format(PDF) versions of Philip K. Dick's novel here and Richard Linklater's screenplay here.

Spiders

2006-07-07T00:03:00.000+08:00

Rouelle advised me that the teaser for Spiderman 3 is out, so I went to the Apple site to check it out. Now I watch it a couple of times a day. May 4, 2007 seems so far away.

My initial frustration about the entire franchise was about the absence of Gwen Stacy's character in the first film. I know for a fact that it was she, not Mary Jane Watson, that Green Goblin dropped in the bridge to spite Peter Parker. But now, Bryce Dallas Howard is going to play Gwen in the third installment. I wonder how that will be, since in the comic books, the chronology was like this: Gwen dies, Peter gets mad, Harry Osborne gets doped up. It was only some time later that Peter and MJ gets together.

Another twist in the movie's love angles? Some cuts from the teaser show MJ and Harry getting together (again), so perhaps Gwen will serve as Peter's new love interest. But enough of that. Don't let mne get started on how Kirsten Dunst's character closely resemble that of Gwen's in the comic books. The MJ I know pre-film adaptation is well, bolder and more vivacious.

The enemies: Spiderman in a black suit? I downloaded this wallpaper around two months ago and concluded that the film timeline is indeed a little woozy. Come on, it's common knowledge that Spiderman got the Venom suit from some planet in some war (I forget which one). The suit is actually an alien symbiote that bonded with Peter (which he eventually rejected). The symbiote then bonded with Eddie (I forgot his last name), another journalist.

So if Spidey got the alien symbiote from some planet, does it mean we'd get to see it on film? Or will the scriptwriters change the continuity once again? So now I'm going to talk about Sandman, one of my favorite villains in Spiderman. Last I know, Sandman washed up on some beach and started swallowing people to be corporeal once again. I'd like to see that on film. Aaaah blob!

More on this later, when I'm not this hongry anymore. And oh, I haven't seen Superman Returns yet. :(

Portugal lost :(

2006-07-06T05:08:00.000+08:00

And what at lousy game that was, too.

Sports Digression: Rooting for Portugal

2006-07-05T14:21:00.000+08:00

Given my disposition when it comes to matters on sports - especially rah-rah team sports, even I surprise myself as I type this. Or maybe the bug is just too strong to resist.

The elimination rounds failed to interest me. But when the Group of 16 of the 2006 FIFA World Cup started, I found myself checking the results and watching the goals on the internet. And that's during presswork.

My interest intensified during the quarterfinals, what with the upsets that sent Argentina, Brazil and England home. I secretly rooted for the underdogs, like when France booted out defending champion Brazil and Portugal sending England packing. Nice goals too. Well, not one of the four teams in the semifinal are underdogs by any means - all are European with a long history in soccer. Ukraine, now that's an underdog, despite having been ousted by Italy in the quarterfinals. There are however, underdogs for particular matches, like France when they battled defending champion Brazil with their aged lineup. I am rooting for Portugal though.

This morning, I even woke up early, since aside from the fact that I still have to edit two articles, the Italy-Germany semifinal match was scheduled at 3 am, Manila time.

I got to the office and howled when the server was down, which wasn't really a big problem since I got the internet connection up and running in no time. Lo and behold, Italy won. Forecasts after the quarterfinals were tipped in favor of a France-Germany game 64 in Berlin, but now, the host country has been kicked out of the tournament. And it was a really great game too, by anyone's standards. Boring first 90 minutes, then 30 minutes extra time. All of a sudden, Italy scored two goals at the 119th and 120th minutes. Whooo! Crazy.

Tomorrow, it's Portugal vs. France. I'm rooting for the former. Hey, France won the Cup as recent as 1998 (I remember the hype, I was in high school then. And the Ricky Martin theme song. Ew.) I'm still predicting an Italy-Portugal final - let France and Germany battle it out for 3rd place. Now that's a match nobody wants to play, haha.

Not that I've forgotten other sports I'm genuinely interested in, like tennis for example. Andre Agassi got his ass kicked by Rafael Nadal and exited his last Wimbledon the other day (Agassi announced he was going to retire after this year's US Open). Speaking of the US Open, last year's was the last time I enjoyed watching tennis on TV. And an electrifying match too, an unforgettable final between Agassi and Roger Federer (the Swiss won). I regret not being able to watch Federer's attempt - and subsequent failure in the hands of Nadal - to hold all four Grand Slam titles at the recently concluded French Open. Oh well.

Still, match 62 is tomorrow. Three games to go before this year's Cup is awarded. Until 2010 then.

Back From The Dead

2006-06-12T19:19:00.000+08:00

Um. It's been a month since my last post. I have a coupla unfinished ones but I can't post them that way, can I? Well, just checking in.

Tag

2006-05-01T23:38:00.000+08:00

Hehe, Iris tagged me, so here it is.

Four jobs you have had in your life:
1. freelance journalist
2. bum
3. bum
4. bum

Four movies you would watch over and over:
1. Days of Being Wild
2. Donnie Darko
3. American Beauty
4. The Land Before Time

Four places you have lived in:
1. Tandang Sora
2. UP Bliss
3. KNL
4. Kule opis

Four TV shows you love to watch:
1. The O.C (guilty pleasure, oh what the...)
2. All of Star Trek's incarnations
3. The X-Files (reruns anyhow)
4. Home TV shopping (better than any sitcom, you'd die laughing)

Four places you have been on vacation:
1. Baguio
2. Quezon
3. Boracay (sawa na nga ko e)
4. Dreamland

Four websites I visit daily:
1. www.inq7.net
2. this one
3. www.avalon.ph
4. www.imdb.com

Four of my favorite foods:
1. anything with pesto in it
2. mangoes and apples (I'm suddenly crazy about fruits)
3. sinigang na baboy
4. shakes

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. anywhere where I'd see anyone getting killed or something
2. at home playing Neverwinter Nights
3. Patagonia
4. Deep Space Nine

Seven friends who I have tagged that I think will respond

1. I'll tag people tomorrow or sometime soon. See explanation below.

Help! Would somebody pester K about starting her own web log? She invaded my comments page (and well, everybody else's; good thing i don't have a shoutbox - i think it looks like clutter on the layout).

Got a lot more written but haven't posted over the last three weeks (look at how the recent posts are antidated), but these Ubuntu computers at the cafe are quite slow (not the internet connection, but the response time when switching windows) so maybe I'll post em next time.

Totally Stoked

2006-04-15T06:36:00.000+08:00

Literature – Ecstatically devoured two Douglas Coupland novels, Hey Nostradamus! and All Families Are Psychotic, which is like, really psychotic. Bought ramblings and sketches by Tom Wolfe called In Our Time, which is about the 70s (check out his Marshall McLuhan sketch, ha!). Recently finished Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s retelling of the 1990 kidnappings of 10 Colombian journalists by the big man himself, Pablo Escobar, called News of a Kidnapping. Also reread (and read the ones I skipped before) H.P. Lovecraft. Oh well.

Music – My Death Cab collection is almost complete. Well, tracks from the early, pre-DCFC Ben Gibbard/Chris Walla release You Can Play These Songs With Chords are scarce but I’m making progress. In a Leonard Cohen phase, and now my favorite song is Suzanne. Nina Simone’s cover is weird, kinda dance-y but ok nevertheless. And Bob Dylan’s cover of Hallelujah, god was he drunk or what? More from K, albums by Tahiti 80, Of Montreal and The Magic Numbers (great!). More Bright Eyes tracks, notably When the President Talks to God (recent release), The “Feel Good” Revolution, I Won’t Ever Be Happy Again and A Perfect Sonnet. Recent favorites: matt pond PA, Imogen Heap, James William Hindle, The Flaming Lips, Breaking Benjamin, Artic Monkeys. Got the soundtrack for the video game Silent Hill (by blackannis) too. I play it at night and remember Harry Mason searching for his daughter in the eerie, abandoned town. What’s with the female lead in the movie adaptation, anyway? Harry’s still great.

Cinema – Finally saw Crash, and realized why it won over Brokeback Mountain. What a mess. Great ensemble, except for that Brendan Fraser guy and that Sandra Bullock bimbo. Paradise Now, the film from Palestine about two friends who became suicide bombers, sent me reeling. I wonder how Tsutsi (from South Africa), won Best Foreign Language Film over it. Oh well, take that Spielberg, with that Munich trash of yours. Slept through The Royal Tenenbaums (which I already saw), Thumbsucker (the novel was better) and Mozart and the Whale (B movie, anyone?). On to genre films. Final Destination 3: still as good as the first two. Hostel: eh? No comment, but liked the gore. Finally, went to see V for Vendetta with Jayson, Kat and Lec. Natalie Portman, ah. Heard Alan Moore and the Wachowski brothers fought over the film. Noticed the credits went: Based on the graphic novel illustrated by so-and-so. So Moore (Alan, not Mandy) didn’t want his name on the credits. Wait, natalieportmannatalieportmannatalieportman

Technology – Installed Adobe Audition, Sound Forge and Acid Pro. Playing with them right now but haven’t really produced a decent song mix. Out of memory (scratch disk), add that. Really really enjoying Half Life 2. Soooo scary (but Silent Hill’s still scarier). Almost done with Grand Theft Auto III, but abandoned it for Half Life 2, which I also stopped playing for a while to explore an old Victorian mansion in northern England. Nothing happens in Scratches, no overt violence, no guns and shooting, no zombies and vampires, no action. Just a writer alone in a spooky old house with a history, a sprawling garden, a garage, a scary greenhouse untended for decades, an ominous private chapel and a locked crypt which I can’t open (yet), solving puzzles and listening to scratches in the walls and voices in the cellar. Point and click, released just a few weeks ago, but the graphics are good and I just love puzzle horror-adventure games. Also bought a chapter removed from Half-Life 2, called Lost Coast (which is supposed to be in the Highway 17 chapter, mid-game).

Food/Events/Oddities – Now I’m really a pasta guy. Three of four times a week. Pricey dinners with Jimmy and others in swanky restos. Went to see Jayson’s friends sing at Libreria recently, and really enjoyed it.

Wants – Natalie Portman! Will you marry me?

We've Got To Get Out Of This Place!

2006-03-22T20:48:00.000+08:00

Tales from the Frat House is now publishing.

Something Vague

2006-03-16T18:39:00.000+08:00

Bright Eyes
Fevers and Mirrors (2000)
Saddle Creek Records

Now and again it seems worse than it is, but mostly the view is accurate. You see your breath in the air as you climb up the stairs to that coffin you call your apartment. And you sink in your chair, brush the snow from your hair and drink the cold away. And you're not really sure what you're doing this for but you need something to fill up the days - A few more hours.

There's a dream in my brain that just won’t go away. It's been stuck there since it came a few nights ago. And I’m standing on a bridge in the town where I lived as a kid with my mom and my brothers. And then the bridge disappears and I’m standing on air with nothing holding me. And I hang like a star, fucking glow in the dark, for
all those staring eyes to see, like the ones we’ve wished on.

Now I’m confused. Is this depth really you? Do these dreams have any meaning? No. No, I think it is more like a ghost that has been following us both. Something vague that we're not seeing, something more like a feeling.

February Stoke Factor

2006-03-06T19:33:00.000+08:00

Literature – haven’t really read a lot this month, which I know is so un-me. Breezed through Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s latest, Memorias de mis putas tristes a few days ago. Read some shorts in a horror fairy tales collection, including one where Joyce Carol Oates recreates Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Match Girl in a modern setting (which I recommended to Kat), Nico finally returned my copy of Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys and the Batman: Knightfall trilogy; Michelle also retuned Cat’s Eye (Margaret Atwood), Garden State (Rick Moody) and Trainspotting (Irvine Welsh), finished Thumbsucker by Walter Kairn in one night

Cinema – finally saw the Johnny Cash-June Carter biopic Walk the Line and liked it. Really really liked it...because you’re mine....I walk the line... Endured Pride and Prejudice too, just to see Keira Knightley, oh la la. (Uh, Mistuh Duhcy...) Bought a pirated copy of Zathura but haven’t seen it yet. Watched Bernardo Bertolucci’s fuckfest The Dreamers again, how fitting in these states of emergencies. Also, I’m too disgusted by Steven Spielberg’s Munich to talk about it. Fuck you, Steve! Liked the cinematography though.

Music – oooooh...more than 700 tracks of twee as fuck music from K (hey thanks!). Obsessing over: Kings of Convenience, Postal Service (Death Cab’s Ben’s “other” band), Sufjan Stevens, Polyphonic Spree, Belle and Sebastian especially that new song called Marx and Engels, The Decemberists, Los Lonely Boys, Architecture in Helsinki (Helsinki? But they’re Australian!), Aberdeen, Aberfeldy and of course, of course, Badly Drawn Boy. Also copied Aimee Mann’s latest CD The Forgotten Arm from Ellaine and downloaded Jimmy Eat World’s Bleed American album from HF. Specific tracks I put on repeat: Breaking Benjamin’s Rain, Brendan Benson’s Cold Hands Warm Heart, New Tork, New York by Ryan Adams, A Minor Incident and Year of the Rat by Badly Drawn Boy (from the About A Boy OST), Honey Cone’s The Day I Found Myself, The District Sleeps Alone Tonight and Such Great Heights by Postal Service and The Decemberists’ Leslie Anne Levine. Also, enjoying once again Kula Shaker’s Govinda and Travis’ Why Does It Always Rain On Me? Oooh so 90s of me, eh? Popwise, really enjoying an old song by Duncan Sheik called Half-Life. Also waiting for my copies of albums by Leonard Cohen, Johnny Cash, Bright Eyes, Death Cab and Ryan Adams from Sarah. Passed by Quiapo on the way to my Dad’s and bought two albums each from Weezer and My Chemical Romance (sssh! don’t tell anyone, just a guilty pleasure) and one each from Silverstein, Ash and Fall Out Boy

Technology – reformatted my phone, and while restoring data accidentally synced it to the wrong username and erased my address book. Thank god for the “Archive all deleted items” option, but my SMS collection since 2002 was irrecoverable. Sniff. Gawked at gadgets at the Gateway Mall when we went to the Inyorai Bidyo awards and cringed at the price tags (a LaZ Boy for 30 000-50 000?!). I liked the washing machine though. And that 10 MP HD camcorder.

Oddities/Food – went on a culinary frenzy. Pasta is now a regular resident in my cupboard. Potatoes too. Bought a bottle of pesto and slathered everything with it: potatoes with pesto, pesto fettuccine, pesto bread, pesto sinigang (joke). Mashed potatoes: no potato masher? Use two spoons, add gravy, yum! Carbonara: no cream? Use milk, add flour, yum!. Got a tummyache from too much French toast, and that’s sans maple syrup (too expensive!), too tedious to cook however, with my shitty stove. Wanted to buy a skillet so went to the supermarket nearby and banged my head in frustration (too expensive!), my largest bowl cracked from too much microwave heat (it’s not microwave safe but I’m just that stubborn). Also went to Bellini’s with Karl, Val, Ellaine, Suyin and Jayson (yum yum, I mean, delicioso!)

Events/Others – enjoyed doing the zine, whose title rhymes with punyemas! [which excited me so much that I ignored my thesis and missed the deadliest deadline waaah], LOC gig at The Coffee Way (only Kat and Lec performed), went to the last night of the fair and ate too much

Wants – a new bed (Jayson wrecked Piping!), furniture, printer ink [2000 for a cartridge (black) wtf?!], Keira Knightley (that Vanity Fair cover where she and Scarlett Johannson got nude was just...), I want a fridge too!

February Fifteenth

2006-02-15T21:44:00.000+08:00

Bright Eyes
Drunk Kid Catholic EP (2001)

All eyes on the calendar
Another year I claim of total indifference
To here, the days pile up
With decisions to be made, I'm sure all of them were wrong
Into this song I send myself
And with these drinks I plan to collapse
And forget this wasted year, these wasted years
Devoted friends, they disappear
And I'm sorry about the phone call and needing you
Some decisions you don't make
I guess it's just like breathing and not wanting to
There are some things you can't fake
I guess that it's typical
To cling to memories you'll never get back again
And to sort through old photographs
Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know
And there below his frozen face
You wrote the name and that ancient date, that ancient date
And you can't believe that he's really gone
When all that's left is a fucking song and
I'm sorry about the phone call; and waking you.I know that it is late,
But thank you for talking, because I needed to.
Some things just can't wait.
(Yeah, some things just can't wait)

First EP

2006-02-05T20:48:00.000+08:00

January Fiend

2006-01-31T13:44:00.000+08:00

I’ve barely even felt the coming of the New Year and look, the first month’s almost gone. What happened: Theses, martial arts classes, poetry readings, parties, DVD marathons, ukay wardrobe, new books, Death Cab music and Anne Hathaway.

Stoke Factor for January:
Literature – The Physics of Star Trek, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, Orson Scott Card’s Lost Boys, rediscovered copies of Michael Cunningham’s The Hours (which Jayson stashed for like, two years), Neil Gaiman’s American Gods (which mysteriously turned up chez Birung et Sinag’s), in eBook format, currently agonizing over Book 6 of the Star Trek The Next Generation: A Time To... nine-part series, cracked Documents To Go Premium 8 (don’t be scared, I don’t go around cracking people’s passwords and hacking into security systems – that kind of stuff is bad, bad, BAAAD) today so discarded the expired trial version and went on a conversion frenzy earlier

Music – Death Cab as usual, some Aimee Mann tracks, 633 MB worth of obscure Euro music from K (e.g. Aberfeldy, Architecture in Helsinki, Belle and Sebastian, Camera Obscura, Feist, La Musique Populaire, Smoosh, Tegan and Sara, The Beautiful South, The Pipettes), 2046 score from Val, James Iha, The Decemberists, an Israël Kamakawiwo'ole cover of Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World and another cover of The Girl From Ipanema by Antonio Carlos Jobim, Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto, obsessing over Radiohead’s Exit Music (For A Film) as well as Aimee Mann’s cover of Elvis Costello’s The Other End (Of The Telescope)

Cinema – Three, Three 2, Havoc (where Anne Hathaway gets dirty), Brokeback Mountain (where Anne Hathaway takes it further and gives birth to a kid fathered by a gay Jake Gyllenhaal), King Kong (where Naomi Watts screams like a pro), a scary Thai film, planning to watch Zathura soon and Walk the Line and Saw II next week, Sam Mendes’ third film Jarhead is always at the back of my mind, Kainan sa Highway with Maye Tongco hahaha!

Technology – SPSS 14.0, scores of new programs for my phone (Insaniquarium for Palm OS, how cool is that?), Macromedia Director MX, a new Globe SIM, a Mac OS X object dock, planned application (with Divine) for a WiFi internet connection

Oddities – the microwave oven, Fish Cake (or Eggplant Fish Parm, a dish Caloy and I invented, yum!), Mister Sprout the Evil Dinosaur (a.k.a Andy and his prey Abby the Poor Ladybug), KFC crew shirt which I got from the ukay

Events/Others – poetry reading at the Coffee Way, the BABOY episode the same night, sabaw ng adobong pusit, frequent rendezvous with Sir Edel and Ma’am Sarah at the Oz Cafe, our band LOC (with the PsychoSexy Dancers) and Apologia, the first song we composed, part-time job at Pinas, the marg at Dada’s party for her 27th birthday (which EJ gulped unknowingly)

Wants – still a new hard drive, an SD card for my Palm, a golf club for display (or a baseball bat for that matter), an icebox (better yet, a refrigerator), a bureau with a big mirror, Anne Hathaway

Haven’t updated this blog for almost a month; too much yet absolutely nothing was happening and I couldn’t even keep track of them. In one month, I’ve gone from wayward collegian to part-time journalist, from sloppy housemate to party host, boring dresser to ukay hunter.

And it just keeps on getting better.

Endnotes: Last Quarter Crisis

2005-12-31T22:22:00.000+08:00

October

“...so this is my October, let me die.”
- Collapsis, “October”

“October...and the trees are all stripped bare of all they wear...what do I care?”
- U2, “October”

Nothing ever happens in October. There’s merely the subtle change in the breeze as the end of the year comes closer. No major holiday, no significant world event, except maybe for the October Revolution. The 31 days pass by in a blur of overcast skies and the occasional light rain. Only the last day of the month stirs a phantom of excitement when there is a horror movie marathon on TV.

I like October. When I first saw Donnie Darko a little over two years ago, the more I became fixated with the month. It also helps that October is when I celebrate my birthday. (Except there isn’t much truth in that because I don’t really “celebrate.” I never really cared.) October 30 is when reality collapsed, the spacetime continuum was disturbed, and temporal integrity was compromised. On that day, Donnie went back to October 2 and died. So much for happy endings.

November

“This November swallows me whole.
And this may be the closest thing that you'll ever receive to an apology.”
- Silverstein, “November”

November dirges annoy me. I’ve never been a fan of going to cemeteries and praying for the dead. (But then again, I never pray, whether for the living or the dead. I don’t have a soul.) When November comes, all I can think about is the coming of the December break. November is but a month of enduring the urban life, a rather inconvenient period between the semestral hiatus and Christmas festivities.

December

“A long December and there’s reason to believe, maybe this year will be better than the last.”
- Counting Crows, “A Long December”

I never cared for Christmas. Well, I’ve always spent the holiday at home, eating good food, enjoying my family’s company, which usually consist of either horsing around with my brothers or lounging in front of the telly, turned to some show or DVD or video game and helping my mother cook. Nothing special really, we celebrate the occasion because there was no reason not to. This year in fact, we just drank on Christmas Eve and never really sat down to eat Noche Buena. Oh, we cooked and ate, just not the way you’re supposed to at Christmas.

I care however, about Christmas songs. Not that We Wish You A Merry Christmas/Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit kind of crap, but rather the more nostalgic tunes ranging from Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song to the Bright Eyes cover of Blue Christmas. In fact, I can never get enough of them. I listen to Christmas songs all year round, preferring songs like A Long December by Counting Crows, All I Want For Christmas Is You by My Chemical Romance and Weezer’s The Christmas Song. The songs permeate the wall of wistfulness I have built over the years – some sort of selective amnesia that blocks the shameful memories from being unearthed the rest of the year. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. The evils of nostalgia. Despite all the euphoria of the past eleven months, December suddenly brings back the torpor, the indolence, the languid memories of youth.

Nostalgia is the pathway to loneliness, and it carries with it the smell of cigarettes and sex, the feel of a guitar pick, the faint rustling of wet grass against a light jacket in the bitter cold. When remembrance sets in, the halcyon of December dissipates. Where there is no dejection, there is the fuzzy halation of forgetfulness. The end of the year sums it all up – lock, stock and shit, until even the abstruse memories of months past dissolve into themselves.

Alex Garland was right: I guess I’m just like everybody else then. Scared shitless of the unknown.

A Long December

2005-12-30T00:32:00.000+08:00

Counting Crows
August and Everything After

A long december and there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin’ now the days go by so fast. And it’s one more day up in the canyons, and it’s one more night in hollywood. If you think that I could be forgiven - I wish you would.

The smell of hospitals in winter and the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls. All at once you look across a crowded room to see the way that light attaches to a girl. And it’s one more day up in the canyons, and it’s one more night in hollywood. If you think you might come to california - I think you should.

Drove up to hillside manor sometime after two a.m. and talked a little while about the year. I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower, makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her, and it’s been a long december and there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass. And it’s one more day up in the canyon, and it’s one more night in hollywood. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ocean - I guess I should.

Longer post later.

The Morning After

2005-12-26T09:25:00.000+08:00

6 am, day after Christmas. I throw some clothes on in the dark.

Ben Folds captured the mood right. I woke up this morning feeling like the song. As Stephen Hawking asked, why can we remember the past, but not the future?