EXISTENTIAL CRAP

God doesn't do straight lines

"The straight line belonged to men and the curved line to God" -Antoni Gaudi

Forest vegetations are not arranged in grids, why are cities?
I have yet to see a perfectly straight tree trunk, but, straightness and plumbness of a line is essential in a built environment.
And in the absence of straight lines, symmetry is sought. But not even a beautiful woman possesses a totally symmetrical face; nor flowers.
If man's aesthetic sense is not at all nature-inspired, then, where did he get these ideas from?

If the figurative plumb line is used to measure a person's mental and psychological equilibrium, then, a person who is "Wala sa hulog" ,in God's standard, is not at all crazy but naturally normal. Ironically, if that is so, then, in man's point of view ,it only affirms the title of the movie "The gods must be crazy".

havaianas conspiracy

minsan napadaan kami ni misis sa 'all flip-flops'; puro tsinelas lang ang binebenta...havaianas ang tatak. Up to 'sanlibo mahigit ang 'sang pares... at may actually mga bumibili at the time na napadaan kami.
...May freshly brewed coffee naman na masarap 18pesos lang; kelangan bang halos 'sandaan ito sa starbucks?... at may actually mga bumibili, although, yung iba bumibili lang dahil gusto lang silang makita na umiinom nito.
Ang mga ito at iba pang katulad nito ay nagsisilbing barometer lamang ng mga kapitalista sa atmosphere ng consumerismo; Kakabahan na sila kapag hindi na paghihirapan ng taong bayan makabili ng shirt na may tatak ng buwayang nakanganga.

Babylon

Kung sino man ang nakaisip sa International Star Registry kung saan ipapangalan ang star sa ordinaryong tao ay isang henyo.
Unang-una, ang kanyang merchandise ay napakarami; kahit "name one take one" promo pa...and for a much cheaper price I might as well start naming grains of sand!
Pangalawa, hindi niya pinaghirapan ang negosyo niya; naandoon lang sa kalawakan nagkakalat.
Pangatlo, at pinakamahalaga, hindi feeling nadenggoy ang taong nagbayad para ipa-register ang pangalan - even if only a certificate or registration and a chart kung saan naka-locate ang star nya to prove - sa halip it is something to be proud of. What gift to a loved one could be more perfect than to name a star -somewhere out there- after him or her... napaka-fairytale.
Paano magbenta ang mga agents nila? 
"nakikita niyo po ba ang sky?" sabay turo sa itaas "isa po sa mga stars diyan ay ipapangalan natin sa GF nyo!,how romantic.'di po ba?..next client!"
So what's in a star?
But then, life itself has become like it; it is just all about names, everybody is busy either making one or protecting it.
But then again, so what's in a name?

Not Another Teen Movie!

Finding out, when I watched Day of the Dead, that teen movies have also begun invading my favorite sub-genre: zombie movies, was more unsettling than watching the zombies themselves taking over an entire town.

The Best Toy I Never Had

Even if it has become affordable, I have yet to own a remote-controlled (RC) model car.

Perhaps, if only to sustain my longing and maintain the state of RC deprivation, I deliberately refuse to buy one.

It has become the symbol of the things that I consider as unreachable goals.

Ironically, there is a twisted sense of fulfillment in constantly fighting off the natural tendency to fulfill a desired objective

Consciously- and unconsciously -setting personal limitations has its price:

Everybody else seems to be more successful,

adherence to the practice of monogamy, and

daily being yoked equally by eclecticism and skepticism.

A few years back I witnessed another ironic event: a goat tied to a peg in an open field; that the more it tried to run away the more the leash becomes wrapped around the peg as the goat ran around it until its neck got stuck to the peg.

That occurrence, also, got stuck in my mind because it, almost, parallels life itself -

mine, in particular.

Strange and puzzling as it may seem, if that goat ended up happy, then, the parallel is complete.

Willing victim, reluctant accomplice

Clicking on a Friendster profile and finding out that it’s private or those who keep  private photos is like a nudist colony with some members wrapped in towels and gives a peek only to those whom they want to grant request.

Talk about making a complete travesty of it all. It is like Borat meets the Pope.

They’ve already lied about their age -and the rest of what’s in the profile- in the first place, what is still keeping them from openly sharing their made-up profiles?

Friendster, then, is an online community that hesitates to connect with other people who would like to know more about who they’re not 

And when I open their blogs, instead of finding out more of the thoughts of a person, I read lyrics of songs.

‘Tis the age of the copy-paste. Growing up with Jollibee’s value meals has systematically repressed the individual to sets of limited choices, thus, one only has to copy and paste which song lyrics reflect his or her feelings – or whatever he or she wants to project as his or her thoughts. ..

GP vs DPDL

Hope GP wins via the cocky DPDL kissing the canvass...6th rd.

Second blog comment posted

...And I thought comments would boost me to blog more...

Kabaliktaran pala…

On the second comment I remember yung nakasulat sa banner ng Detroit Pistons noong 80’s on their bid for another NBA title “Once is good, twice is bad” or maybe in this case “once bitten twice shy” hehe

Nung first time may nag-comment, si Erwin, “yehey” sabi ko and I longed for more comments from others

Ngayon nag-comment si Alvin na-‘keyboard-shy’ na ako Nako- conscious yata

Now, for some reason, I feel I have to limit myself to certain topics

And I was just about to let-it-all-out (naks naman)…kung ano pa mga nasa pinakasuluk-sulukan ng aking isip ilalabas ko na sana…haha

I guess I’ll have to stick to safe topics like ODLH vs PBFM: my prediction, the lure of Quibuar river, how to care for a retic in a cold environment without artificial heat and things like that, etc…

(HaHaHa, sabik lang mag-blog pero walang maisulat ginawang dahilan pa ang nananahimik na Alvin…)

My upcoming blog titles

- THE LIVING BRAIN DONOR?
- PROFILE VIEWS REMINDED ME OF THE MOVIE "THE ASSASSINATION OF RICHARD NIXON"

my Amanpulo

Grabe naman siguro ang gulat ko kung nagkataong tatanga-tanga akong namamasyal sa Rockwell at nasalubong ko si Erik Morales!

Before that, reportedly, he had lunch in one of the cafes in his hotel at ang in-order daw niya ay ham sandwich - ano siya, nagtitipid?

According to newspapers, He and his wife are going to the ultra-exclusive Amanpulo resort this week.

Kaya siguro na-admit sa ospital nang 'di oras si Pacman dahil nang salubungin niya si El terrible para mag-por da boys na agad sana, e ang naidura na lamang niyang mga salita ay "Pre, dinala mo kumander mo?"

I mean, what kind of a married man would visit the Philippines and bring along his wife?

Ignorance is bliss

Bagong taon na naman at hindi ko maiwasang isipin na kung may end of the world- regardless kung kailan man ito- ay tiyak, isang taon na naman ang naibawas sa countdown.

Ayon daw sa Mayan calendar ang mundo ay magwawakas sa year 2012 dahil may astronomical event na mangyayari sa taon na ito na kung saan dadaan ang mundo sa Photon belt -exactly on December 21, 2012...
Very significant date: God willing, ang aking panganay will turn 14 on this day.
Indeed, mga impormasyong ganito, whether true or crap, ay mas mainam nang hindi na malaman.

Anxiety is what I'm worried about!

Mabuti na lamang at na-reassure ako ng aking blog name 'Existential Crap' , na  nagpapahiwatig ng pag-asa, that everything is alright.

(I wonder if trendsetting traditonally starts at the beginning of the year...
if so, then, this is going to be a long crappy-blogging year for me.)

Arctic is Very Far From Me

Arctic ice melting fast!

Nobody seems to care anymore

If I remember it right, when I was a kid, the news of the Skylab crashing from the heavens was more 'doomsday' than the global warming of today

Maybe the whole world have become doomesday-fatigued

Blockbuster but crappy movies such as Armageddon, The Day After Tomorrow, War of the Worlds, of course,Titanic; with realistic special effects, they make the book of Revelation look like it came out of Funny Komiks.

Bill Gates Conspiracy

"I told you so"

I told my wife when I let her read a column of Michael Tan and emphasized on the part about a study that a poor American family improving economically to middle class will take about 200 years!

And they're even Americans! ( I hate to be redundant)

I was right when I told her not long ago how inconcievable - basically, from my own experience - it is to acquire wealth, much less to become a billionaire in a lifetime.

So fast was how these self-made billionaires amassed their wealth that they still have at least 3/4 of their lives to enjoy their riches.

While all I see around me are bootom-feeders and crumbs that begin to look like gold dusts, wealth's elusiveness only confirm the idea that it is just a mirage, especially when rich men are distant and fictitious like Jose Pidal and Jose Velarde.

That is how I was led to believe that there is no such person as Bill Gates, only balikbayans.

I came to my senses as I closed my mouth (to prevent more drooling) and finally decided that that was it for me and Forbes.com

If I Go To El Nido Will They Make 'Tatak' My Passport?

And so it has come to this:

Resignation and hopelessness for opting to stay

And leaving as the only hope

A colleague and friend left for the Caribbean the other day

Just two weeks before that another friend went to Dubai

Me sour graping?

My daughter onced blurted out that her economically-challenged cousin’s family in the province lives in a ‘Pambansang Bahay'

That was hilarious

Was she aware that she was equating poverty with a national pride?

Am I pushing my daughter into losing fast her sense of nationalism at a tender young age by LMAO to her innocent observation?

...Putik

A Lesson of Being a True Pinoy from a Snake

It is when I don’t expect much that I get favorable results.

Maybe it is just like turning on the ‘easy-to-please’ switch and the whole system downgrades

Pareng Dave gave me an ordinary retic that loves to bite

Normally, I would not have taken it

But I thought that it would be a pleasant change to have an ill-tempered snake for a pet since I’ve been used to docile ones.

It’s a welcome challenge, besides it’s free and I haven’t had a retic for quite sometime

Somewhere along that line I lowered my expectations

Needless to say, it paid

I love every bit –and I mean literally, and all the missed and attempted bites- of the little rascal

Now, that is a display of being a true Pinoy and I’m proud of it

My take on a given situation easily explains what the rest of the world considers a mystery, which is, that amid deep crisis Pinoys still rank relatively high on the list of happiest people in the world.

Expecting very little and receiving slightly better is…priceless

Mababaw ang kaligayahan

That explains why developed nations, like the

US

, have a very busy judiciary

People expect much from each other, thus, easily provoked into taking legal action at the slightest shortcoming.

Pinoys wouldn’t think twice showing their wide grins in front of news cameras because if not for the erupting volcano their ‘15 minutes’ of fame wouldn’t have been possible

…MALUPIT !

Baby back ribs

Google Earth is arguably the best the internet has contributed in my world of daily trivialities.

It is way ahead of the pack consisting of break.com, subservient chicken and others like it…

The best Halo-halo is served in an old ice cream parlor in

San Fernando

City

…

My sister in-law, Manang Deb, cooks the best Dinakdakan and Pinakbet.

If not for these dishes she prepared I could not have possibly learned that they don’t make alka-seltzers anymore.

Human Windmill

In a secular point of view,

Hollywood

’s best answer, so far, to the very important query on man’s purpose is the story of the Matrix trilogy.

According to the movie humans are ‘milked’ of valuable energy in some kind of an enormous human farm facility

To ensure continued maximum output from every human, encased in a test tube-like vessel, a simulation of the ‘real’ world is programmed in them.

(No wonder suicide is a taboo – it means less energy resource – and procreation is highly encouraged)

Among other things, it also answers the question of who benefits from man’s existence.

If a dung beetle benefits from a buffalo’s waste matter and a falcon survives at the expense of the beetle and so on, up to the top of the food chain (if there is such a pinnacle and if there is I do not think man is occupying it because any idea that puts man at the apex is just putting the planet earth back to the center of the solar system again).

There is a phrase: balance of nature.

Without doubt, the massive scale of abuse on the environment by human beings in exchange for a handful of fresh human s**t eaten by a stray dog or maggots devouring corpses is far from being considered a fair trade.

Having access to everything while giving very little in return seems to be a privilege enjoyed by those on the top.

Does it really end with man?

Or is something higher than man making it appear like it is to keep humankind going and multiplying, thus, guaranteeing – like wind or water is to man – a renewable source of energy?

Royce Gracie is No Kung-Fu Master

I shouldn’t have downloaded the Royce Gracie vs Matt Hughes UFC fight.

I also could have wished that the celebrated heart-stopping and championship-winning jump shot by Michael Jordan against the Utah Jazz was the last play he made in the NBA.

Both Jordan and Gracie should not have made a comeback to their respected sport, if only to preserve their legendary status.

As I watched Royce Gracie being pummeled by the youthful and talented Matt Hughes my established notion (from watching kung-fu movies since childhood) of martial artists getting better with age and, sometimes, drunkenness, was shattered.

Obviously, Kung-fu movies are showing fight scenes that are against the laws of physics, specifically, gravity.

People tolerate it for the enjoyment value it gives.

But what escaped my good judgment is the concept of elderly, yet quick and strong, kung-fu masters being unbeatable in combat that I even embraced the idea as fact.

What the Gracie-Hughes video proved is that only wisdom advances with age

…that is, if one chooses to.

School becomes obsolete; Supermaid is Here

I don’t understand anymore the purpose of pre-school.

I believe that pre-school was conceived for the purpose of babysitting. That’s why the term daycare- to care for working parents' children during daytime.

Now, instead of helping out the parents it has become a burden financially and is eating up valuable resources and time.

Now, as has become a necessity, parents must have a yaya or a paid helper to bring the children to school.

I don’t also understand anymore the purpose of a college degree.

What’s the use of a degree or a professional license if the degree holder makes a living totally different from his or her acquired skill?

Sometimes even landing a job that requires no skill at all.

There are so many who work abroad who didn’t use their own name nonetheless their employers are satisfied with their work.

Some falsify documents just to be hired and their employers wouldn’t know the difference and are even pleased with their skill and performance.

If the recent leakage in the nursing board exam was not exposed I bet employers wouldn’t know the difference.

It only helps explain some people’s mentality that they are really good at what they do but, nevertheless, cheat just to make sure.

It, like life, is too complex to explain.

Not like my blogs in which I can explain everything that happens in life in unbelievably simple manner – including this one.

Back to the topic, I believe that Pinoys have evolved to, and created a niche in the world market as, producers of quality laborers or a better term, manpower.

The new program of PGMA “Supermaids” supports my view with a push.

Thinking along that line, why doesn’t the government take it a notch higher - way higher economically.

Overhaul the education system by concentrating on the special skills of a region, just like the

One

Town

, One Product (OTOP) program?

This one, though, One Region, One Skill (OROS)

For example, if the Kapampangans produced Bata and Django, then, billiards should be the skill

Central Luzon

must concentrate on. Visayas and

Mindanao

specializes in producing world-class Pinoy boxers... so on and so forth.

No harm in trying.

(Sepermaid idea nga nakalusot)

Pinoy Suicide Bomber and other messianic complex Fantasies

It was found that only a small percentage of suicide bombers of the Hezbollah are Islamic fundamentalists

Some were even Christians.

It’s not about religion

It’s about protecting one’s own land from foreign occupation.

If that is the case, then, Filipinos could never produce such martyrs

Not at this point in time when the number of Pinoys who wants to leave their native land is at its highest.

Oddly, this is how, and the only way, Pinoys fight for their lot

But not exactly in patriotic sense

But in basic sense

Pinoys are fighting for the right to live decently

They can take my land anytime.

I’d rather work wiping off turd from the ass of an old fart in a foreign land

so long as I live well.

Anyway, Pinoys seem to be more patriotic outside their homeland

If I say I believe that the Philippines is inhabited by beautiful women, produces the best mangoes, has the best dive spots and is proud of Manny Pacquiao, does it mean that I have a strong sense of nationalism?

But even an average Japanese or Australian would agree with me

Does that make them nationalistic Pinoys too?

Obviously, my love for this country is as deep as that of a regular drunk tourist in a Boracay nightspot.

Nomad's NOMAD

Warren Buffett is to be giving 85% of his wealth to charity?

I could easily top that.

I’d give away 100% of my hard-earned and most cherished asset.

Anyway, what’s the use of 85% of a coffee-maker? To be enjoyed fully like I did, it should be given away whole.

My coffee-maker is all that I can truly say as a fruit of  labor. I bought it when I was an employee.

All other material things that I use and enjoy are not, ah, the fruits of my labor. They are blessings or I’ll just say I am only a steward.

If the line “I am just a passing-through” on one of the Christian hymns were true (which, by faith, I believe so), then, I am a nomad’s nomad. For, if, someone will ask everyone to take their hard-earned possessions and move along, I’d be like a fly hovering above the heads of everyone else who - as if they were stuck in the mud - couldn’t move.

I am proud of it in the sense that I thank God for allowing the course of other people’s generosity lead to, um, me.

My loved ones believe that, to say the least, I have flashes of brilliance which I could use in my profession to earn some money so I could improve my personal asset, even if only just to make it plural.

Maybe I am like a stream in early April: the only way of knowing it’s a stream is that, well, there is supposed to be water flowing right on that spot.

It should not cause the heart to be troubled though, for wet season is just around the corner.

Blessings… The only nagging little burden that hangs onto it is the guilt of undeserved reward.

Movie review: Casablanca

Critics say that one of the top movies of all time is Casablanca.

So I watched it.

All I can say is that that movie poured more booze and lit-up more cigarettes than any of the meanest movies I have ever seen.

Even liquor and cigarette companies would consider that movie too nauseating to watch and too vulgar -if it was to endorse their product.

Even in the most romantic scene -and considered a classic - I see smoke rising.

In that movie, every time a person stands still or seat, they pour him a drink. And to think, Casablanca is like the “50 First Dates” of the 1940’s!

Men in uniform populate the gin joint. Those men don’t have any business hanging around in such places; they should have been kicked out of service for violating the dress code.

But, of course, that was a bygone era, a time when drinking and smoking was like eating a donut and drinking coffee nowadays- only, more fashionble.

It wouldn't bother me seing a uniformed policeman at a Mister Donut.

One might say “they’re supposed to drink and smoke because the setting was in a bar”.

What about in the airplane hangar?

Why Life Is Short

Recently, a tortoise died at the age of 250.

In the days of Noah, it’s not unusual to live to almost a thousand years.

After a period of test run, God decided to reduce the life expectancy of man down to 120 years max.

Not only was that God not content with man for being mortal but also because they were so evil that there is no reason to grant them more time to waste. Who wouldn’t?

But the issue is like ‘chicken and egg’.

The hearts of men were generally evil, precisely, because they had long lives!

For heaven’s sake, even for a life expectancy of 60 years, people today couldn’t stay good for just a fraction of it! Imagine how much evil I would accumulate if my life would go on for another 840 years?

I think that the people of today deserved the flood more than those people in the time of Noah. If the ‘good’ days of the people of old were to be added up, out of those 900 years, it would accumulate to something close to, say, - a conservative figure of - 120 years.

That’s equivalent to two lifetimes, already - amazing display perfection!

That is why compared to the people of today? Those people who died in the flood were angels.

People of today?

I’ll put it like this: it is not surprising anymore to see some people being converted to some form of religion in their deathbed!

Live your whole life in folly and decide to submit to a Christian life for about 6 hours or much less. And hope you don’t commit sin in that span of time.

What a difficult task. I wouldn’t want to be in anyone of these guys’ shoes.

Considering the great plan of redemption –the New Testament, God would really have to greatly reduce man’s life because it is the only way that the gospel of Jesus would fit in and make sense.

How?

If I am still living in the time of Noah and someone in the street is proclaiming “repent, the end is near”, I would wonder what he is talking about. The word ‘near’, in relation to my lifespan, could be 500 years in the future.

No need to rush.

The success of spreading the gospel is partly due to its sense of urgency. For all I know the word ‘urgency’ was invented after the great flood.

What could be so urgent when I’m 200 and planning to have my second child at 535?

I believe there were fewer cases of suicides in those days. If one had already made up his/her mind about committing suicide…then, it must be that bad.

There’d be a very little chance that no one could convince a suicidal person not to do it. “Don’t do it. There’s still hope, my friend, your still young, your only 90, you still have a millennium ahead of you!...Don’t you want to see your children grow up to be fine young 200 year olds?...I am sure you’d have a stable job 100 years from now… Ok, so your life, at present sucks. Let this one slide, stay low for about 50 years and then start a new life”. By then, everybody, including himself, would have forgotten all about it.

Compared to today’s longevity, it’s like; I’ve been given 10 (Like a cat) lifetime opportunities to pursue a quality life. Life like that, who needs reincarnation?

“Boy, after undergoing the triple bypass operation, I feel like 400 again!”

I’m sure, in those days, stress was unheard of.

A person can tell he won’t live long when he’s always under stress.

Simply put, a symptom of a short lifespan is stress.

They say that stress causes some illness that will shorten a person’s life. I say it’s the other way around.

Stress is just a manifestation of a short lifespan.

I believe, that, by the time a person is born its body already knows how long it will live - An info that the owner of the body doesn’t know about.

It works probably like, um, adrenalin; it impels the body to work frantically once it realizes it only has, say, 40 years to exist.

So what stress does is to squeeze-in the same amount of what an ordinary 80 years usually can accommodate in 40 years.

That’s how fair life is.

So, a person who lives a stressful life seems to be working doubly hard, because, really he does.

By the time he’s 40 he’ll die and doctors will claim he died of some kind of heart ailment due to stress.

No, it was really time for him to go.

They will make it appear that stress is the culprit when they should have been thankful, for giving the man a taste of full life… in half the time.

Everybody notices how technologies quickly advance and how things change at a fast pace.

Everything in the universe works proportionately. That’s how it achieves a sense of equality. So the faster things change, proportionately, the shorter the lifespan of people become.

That’s why in the third world, where life expectancy is very low, the very poor usually experience it all in one day and on a daily basis. So it’s like, anytime, they’re ready to go. It’s not unusual to see men who work like slaves during the day and engage in an unparalleled blissful drinking binge after work.

If the drinking turns bloody, then, they should even be more grateful.

Of course, life was slow in the time of Noah. If life were still like in the days of old, then, I won’t be surprised to see Lapu-lapu still on his third leg of a nationwide victory parade for killing a foreign invader… Newer versions of game consoles and car models would come in every decade…retro fashion means, me, naked and holding a spear.

While the phrases ‘love your enemy’ was made popular by Jesus and ‘sleeping with the enemy’ is contemporary, ‘Forgive and forget’ and ‘time heals’ could be just two of many phrases that are still being used today that have their roots in the time of Noah.

=)

SHUT UP, KEEP CHATTING

I read that 1 in every 125 Americans is a millionaire, and 8 out of 10 millionaires are 60 and above.*

This is an encouraging stat to those who chat. One needs only to have 125 messenger contacts and chances are, one of them is a real millionaire, as in, in US dollar.

That’s it!

The road leading to the land of overflowing milk and honey never had it so wide and well-paved for Pinays.**

Some even have come so close they could taste it, or so they think: for the way they talk…as if they’re already there…long ago.

Riches couldn’t come much easier than this, like it just drops on one’s lazy lap, because, maybe for reason of divine intervention, noticeably, all of those collections of American chatmates are geriatrics. Again, chances are, of all the old-fart chatmates, only a couple is a pervert bum and the rest are rich pervs.***

…Dirty old men?

Whose hands wouldn’t get dirty if he is counting a million dollars?

*     I made up the latter stats (But it could be true)

**   Some Pinays only

*** not all, some are really sincere companion seekers.

read only if THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE TO DO

Instead of jumping for joy for Pacquiao, I felt bad when I saw Erik Morales down on all fours. He is my idol. I even love his name. Only Michael Jordan, Hakeem Olajuwon, and, yes, the ear-biting Mike Tyson (if only he would have the opportunity to taste dinakdakan, it’s going to be love at first bite for him) would rank higher in my list of favorite athletes.

Pacman would be right up there on the list also for the thrilling fights he gives everytime. In regards to his boxing ability, for me, even Gerry Peñalosa is a far more technically-sound boxer. But it is like comparing Alvin Patrimonio to Samboy Lim. Summer basketball clinics can’t teach to kids what Samboy does inside the playing court. Just like Samboy, Pacman draws his appeal and popularity from his innate crowd-pleasing charisma. Samboy’s high leaping ability, ‘come what may’ aerobatics and his unassuming personality not only made him a much-loved player, it also forced him him into an early retirement from too much injuries. At the height of Samboy’s career, every time he touches the ball, everybody would scream expecting a spectacular play. Patrimonio was a great player but not as thrilling to watch as Samboy. Samboy drives hard first, and while in mid-air, plans on what to do next- but usually decides on an impossible shot. The most obvious similarity between Samboy and Pacman is that they both look awkward in their sport: The reason why Samboy is so accident prone is because he jumps and lands awkward, and almost always on the receiving end of a hard foul - The most horrifying was committed by Jojo Lastimosa. When they collided, Samboy was so high up, that when he spun out of control with his back parallel to the floor, he almost kicked the rim. Paramedics carried him out of the playing court on a stretcher.

The same case is true for Pacman. Whenever he delivers his straight left, he gives it all that he lunges forward awkwardly, momentarily losing balance, leaving him defenseless and vulnerable to counter-punches. But that’s exactly his bread and butter, he wouldn’t be the famous Pacman he is now of he is cautious.

Maybe the reason why I admire Morales is that he doesn’t look like an athlete to me…I don’t consider myself as an athletic type. Aside from being undeniably an “el terrible guapo”, he’s a lot like me in built – only thinner, especially during official weigh-ins (I’m 140+ lbs. and considered a skinny already by those who’ve known me and expect more because of my ability to consume much - they should see the eating champ, small and thin, Sonya Thomas beat her opponents 5 times her own size – how would I look 10 lbs. less?). 

So, just like Pacman, who gives hope to every poor, but hardworking, Filipino youth who’d been enduring a life of hardship which, incidentally, made him emotionally and physically tough (like the part of a song that goes something like “ang kakisigan ko’y sumpa ng kahirapan”), Morales fuels the fantasy of guys, like me, who are beyond their youth, and whose underdeveloped torsos and prominent ribs, makes even undressing alone an embarrassingly difficult task.

Morales is like the Larry Bird of boxing. Larry Bird looks like a corporate guy -only taller. I think it’s his and Bill Laimbeer’s level of athleticism that the assumption “white man can’t jump” was based upon. I’m not saying Morales is not that athletic because it takes great athletic skill to deliver a counterpunch with great accuracy and power while twisting the body to avoid a lightning straight left. But like Larry Bird, Morales is an intelligent fighter.

There are so many young men around who’ve got what it takes to become good boxers, but in most cases, only the smart ones become champions. In one construction site alone there are plenty of contenders. I had a laborer nicknamed Dodong -from Pacland also -whom I played basketball with…and boy was he tough and his stamina was infinite. He had no excess fat and those six-pack (pandesal) of his I could punch all day and he’d probably feel nothing.

When I was a young boy in the province I had a distant cousin who boxed on the regional level. He’s a lot like Dodong in built. I don’t know what his real name was, but I remember everyone he knew calls him “Puraw” (white) because he’s Caucasian-like. I also remember he had a balikbayan sister, who was in her teens, from the

US

. I was only 7 years old then, but I already could tell what is smoking hot, and she was a prime specimen. Her nickname was ‘Tililing’.

After a short stint at boxing, Puraw went to the States also. I remember his training time was at around 3pm, right after watching old Pilipino Movies on RPN 9. He would turn off the TV and let everyone out – only a few household had TV sets back then, which explains the neighbors gathered in and around his house.  He trained in their living room and everyone who was there for the TV would now be peeping on the windows outside watching Puraw train.

I should look no farther. My late first cousin, Nicomedes, I don’t know why but, except for his relatives who calls him Medes, everyone calls him ‘Durang’, short for Durango. Though he goes by many nicknames, Durang was the most enduring.

Durang had well-defined muscles -all cuts. He used to challenge me to give my best shot in puching his pandesal. He had long limbs, which translates to long reach (an advantage in boxing), quick reflexes, and nothing much up there, inside the head –in short, an ideal boxer. I think he even looks like Diego Corrales. But sad to say, the closest thing he ever got involved in boxing was either in a neighborhood brawl or a rumble in the municipal plaza.

Durang always gets into fights. Sometimes his younger brother would help out if he’s outnumbered, more than he can handle. Durang’s appearance was deceptive, he was tall (6ft) and lanky, yet he was strong. He could take on 2 to 3 guys at the same time. I think he’s one of those who have a low level of serotonin: He wouldn’t jump off his seat if a tiger suddenly appeared and sit beside him.

There are times also that he would fight his brother. Once I saw them, to the delight of the neighbors watching, against each other and each had a weapon. Richard, his brother held a small club while Durang was waiving a long bamboo pole to keep the former at bay. Being who I was, when I saw them I immediately told our grandfather and when they went home, they had more of what they’ve given each other, this time from Lolo.

When Durang moved to

Manila

to help out in our auntie’s household, he was not welcome in the neighborhood, at least not to those other young men who thought he’d pose a challenge to their dominance. And besides, anyone who doesn’t know him well would be pissed off at his attitude.

One day he went home bloodied from stab wounds.

Durang didn’t make it to the hospital.

Si 2gadbda sa NLEX

P205 ang ticket ng thrill ride?

sulit na sulit!

Yan ang NLEX, malayong talo nya ang mga latest game consoles available... Ala nga sa NFS yung option na puwedeng i-off ang aircon (thingking na lalakas pa lalo ang makina) only to turn it on again after a minute dahil di na matiis ang init.

Kung may mapupulot na aral sa buhay ang pagtatahak ng kahabaan ng NLEX, eto: na hindi mauubusan ng mao-overtake-kan.

On Lolo's burial

 

Part of what made me what I am today is credited to Lolo. When I think about it there are a lot that I have learned from him. Just like tiny seeds sown long ago that, in time, have taken roots and grew, his influence now have become part of who I am. Yet when he died I did not shed a tear. Not until my uncle –and insisted he be the first- gave his eulogy.  For a son in-law, –and a military officer at that- to ‘beat everyone to the podium’ to express his paternal love for his father in-law while sobbing, tells much about Lolo… That’s when I shed tears.

good citizen

Sure, my heart melts seeing an ambulant vendor on the overpass , whose yet to make a 'buena mano', cuddling her child to keep warm on a cold night, but were not in the mood for tinapa for supper nor breakfast, so we just briskly walked passed them.   

I silently laud those who authored the city ordinance prohibiting giving to beggars. At least now I can turn them away and feel righteous.

Sure, I highly regard the guitar-playing skills of a certain blind individual in one of the overpasess but I have yet to drop a single centavo into the tiny tin can attached at the end of his instrument.

Sure, I give away my old clothes to those I deem fit to receive it, But only after some balikbayans replenished my closet with his own used clothes. They call it Spring Cleaning -- never thought climates of the western hemisphere would have an effect on me.

For the sake of conserving limited resources, to flush the toilet I bravely endure the cold sting of the early morning rain just to fetch rainwater from a 'drum' at the bottom of a downspout. But whenever I see water gushing out the main pipe on the street, like the big fountain at Glorietta, I just shrug and tell myself that someone had already called the water district to report it.

For the sake of conserving the environment, I urged my family to segregate garbage, to throw the bio-degradables at the open lot beside our house.

beauty, war, parking fees

beauty

I think that a person is beautiful if I think that he/she thinks she/he is. Confidence plays a big part in a person's physical well-being and it even radiates outward to undermine preconceived perceptions or standards. On the other hand, one need not have a well-trained k9's nose to smell the difference of a true self-confidence from insecurity heavily wrapped in opaque plastic with the words "confident" written all over it in bold letters.

war

Why are there rules on how to wage war? if the nations in conflict are bent on killing each other (which is what war is all about) it is but natural to expect everyone involved to throw in everything and anything they can get their hands on to kill or to keep himself alive. A person who would want to end another person's life in not in his right mind and with that, no one, whether insane or in a fit of rage, would be ble to think rationally, let alone draft rules or even laws on how to do about his killing spree or how he wanted to be murdered. Killing is killing, someone will end up dead, whatever manner it is done the end is the same. Rules, agreements, treaties or laws won't change the outcome. Rules only apply to playing games.

Having said that, if wars have rules to follow, then wars are only games. If that is the case, then why don't they just include it in their rules to issue soldiers only squirt guns: whoever ends up less wet wins. Anyway the object of the game is to only prove who is right through might. In boxing, anyone can tell who is a better fighter in 12 rounds. The judges don't ask the fighters to kill each other just to determine who is better.

In fact, I have a good idea, less gory,  straight from Rocky movie (I'm not sure if it's part IV): why don't the conflicting countries just send their best boxers to fight each other. Example, say, Coalition vs Iraq --but everybody knows Iraq's boxers have no match to their world-class western counterparts. By just comparing the tale of the tape anyone could correctly guess who will win, which is exactly my point. There is no difference between sending boxers and actually going to war: Everybody knew, except for Saddam or did he?, who is going to win. But they still went to war anyway.

Going back to the idea of sending boxers, it should be included in the rules that the weight class will be done away with since the weight reflects the military might of a nation because if it were otherwise, for example- God forbid- there will be tensions between, say, Mexico and U.S. and a third party decides that they fight in superfeatherweight division, U.S. will be pulverized singlehandedly by Eric Morales. Why look far across the Pacific? Philippines can have a big chance to finally chalk one up on the 'wars won' column if the weight division were enforced. But if it will be, as I proposed, an open tournament (or war, as it takes on a new, less destructive meaning)  everyone would expect the top nations to be throwing in their heaviest, genetically enhanced heavyweight which will also serve as the symbol of their military, technological and economic advancement. But of course, that behemoth dude could be an import. U.S. could be represented by an African. Will this be allowed? by all means. It's actually part of a country's flexing her economic and political muscle. It's part of 'war'. Besides, importing fighters symbolize and only reflect today's fusion of everything brought about by globalization. What is globalization for if not to turn our world into one global country?

But if that is the goal of globalization then wars will eventually become obsolete. In a world where everything from ideas to goods are traded globally while people migrate, it is not far-off to imagine a war when a soldier will be face to face with his enemy who turns out to be a former neighbor whose family left their native land in search of greener pastures. Then one of them shoots with a gun whose parts are assembled, quite sadly, in his enemy's country where labor is cheap. The ironies could go on forever.

But the final irony lies in the phrase "rules of war": Rules are created in civilized conditions while war is by nature, barbaric.

justice

If I am a filipino everyman (why should I not be?), then I could explain or at least understand why filipinos are good and bad citizens at the same time.

Example:

I pay jeepney fares, automatically. To even try not to pay is like trying to think of sleeping standing up-- nobody thinks of that. Paying jeepney fare is natural to every filipino like what I mentioned above, it's automatic. Now here comes the jadewell on-street Pay Parking. Unlike in the jeepney where the driver doesn't go to every passenger to collect fares, the parking attendant, on the other hand, runs like hell to all vehicles attempting to park in his assigned area to collect parking fees. Inspite of showing professionalism and legality (which ironically is exactly the qualities lacking in most of jeepney drivers) by their uniform and quick-to-issue receipts, I am still reluctant, and at times outrightly rejecting, to pay. Why is that?

Some filipinos are like Dr. jekyll and Mr. Hyde. They work industriously and honestly abroad as if they're not the same lazy and unscroupulous government employees just a few months back here in their homeland. Why is that?

Given the opportunity, maybe I won't fare better.

Theses expats or immigrants, I think, believe that what they do is justified. It is manifested in the amount of compensation they receive and the fear and respect of the law.

I don't like to pay jadewell because, for reasons I cannot explain, I strongly feel it is wrong, unjustified. No matter how they try to hide it behind the cloak of professionalism and legality, it won't convince me otherwise.

I saw some of the "Finding Nemo" characters in real life

Snorkling was so fun that I stayed in the water for so long, completely ignoring its terribly painful and ugly consequence: Sunburns--which I am now suffering from. But I believe that I still got the better end of the deal.

I even surprised myself for opting to watch the marine life all day, with my back against the scorching heat of the sun using goggles that have to be constantly drained of water because some manufacturer didn't think that a person of my skull structure would be using their product, when, I could have feasted my eyes on scantly-clad (conservatively speaking) women of various nationalities while lazily lying down under a shade - all day (yes, there were plenty of them coming and going).

That's how irresistible the call of Nemo's cohorts were.

Passing Through

There was no better time for grandfather to go than when I last saw him about a week ago: lying in bed, barely able to open an eye to greet us and at times unable to recognize or remember any of us. There was one time -as his hazy eyes were looking down, as if searching for a listener- when he said that he was dying. That was a rare moment wherein death was welcomed, and not supposed to be avoided anymore. 

I am most afraid of dying when I think of it deep in the night, like when I cannot sleep. My thoughts wander and sometimes end up on the subject of death - mine or a loved one. I make up scenarios and wonder how  it would feel like and how to deal with it.

It maybe that the darkness and the eerie silence evokes tremendous fear and sets a depressing mood in the same way that the brightness of the early morning sun and the promise of a new day affects my view of the same subject positively - accepting the inevitable: that no one is spared in experiencing his own end-of-life on earth..and that, for me, is fair.

I won't complain if everything is fair. If love makes the world spin, then I personally believe that justice runs life. A person's natural justice-seeking tendencies and being perpetually vigilant to fairplay guarantees him and his neighbors peace and security in going about each own's business. Check and balance is the name of the game. Quite incidentally, people start sharpening their sensitivity to fairness early in life - I always notice how used up the word "madaya" is to a group of little children playing. I hear more of it and other word variants from grown-ups.

Anyway, back to the topic.

On the average, I don't see death as a sad and frightening event in life...if it happens to me. But if it befalls to a loved one, then it becomes a sad and frightening event. (Well, of course, how else is it going to be more logical? When I'm dead I won't feel anymore any of the earthly emotions whereas I would be emotionally wrecked as a survivor.)

Outside of my religious belief, there are two clues that convinced me there is life after death: First is conciousness. If there is smoke there is fire: The fact that I have the capacity to ask where I'm going means that there is something more after this mundane life. Whether by chance or by design, the belief or unbelief of the afterlife have a profound effect on the path people take in life. If I were to believe in evolution, it would be odd to think that throughout history humans have been flourishing due partly by holding-on to a belief on something that is not true. If it were a lie, This species should not have been thriving, as it is now. Why would a lie be programmed to my brain and play a major part in my survival? While the defiance of an unbelieving person seems to be more of an act of rebellion against, and which only confirm, the undeniable certainty of the afterlife.

Second, still on conciousness: What is the point of being aware that I exist if in the end I'll be turned-off like a t.v. - back to the state of being before I was born, which was, well, nothing? What was the time between birth and death, or as man calls it existence, all about, if, when I die, it would be it...as if nothing happened? What is the point of being concious of my existence?

It is at this point that religion gives meaning to a person's awareness of existence. As a Christian, I have embraced the 'reward and punishment' scheme which teaches that, in the end, all people will be judged according to their deeds on earth and that moment when one will be aware and be able to remember the things he had done will be the moment that the significance of awareness of one's existence will be understood.

Some agnostics offer a different view. They are convinced that they are god themselves, who, in human form, unleashed himself in a 3-dimensional world where everything -even the people he interacts with- are all created by him, which means that only he exist. The question now is why would he do that? maybe, all the experiences he will gain from this are for his own personal growth (or for some other personal benifits that I don't know of). But then, this type of mind will most likely go back to the mainstream view of existence when faced with imminent death, because then, he will realize that he's no different from everyone else, for death is the great equalizer. Too late for that person, though, if the promise of salvation through Jesus Christ turns out to be true, after all. .

Anong gagawin ko dun'?

I love my new dog. I can't believe it was only less than a year when Arthur, a brother in the faith and a dog breeder and trader, was trying to convince me to buy one of his puppies to which my reply was a sarcastic question "anong gagawin ko dun'?" and we both laughed.

Considering that I'm into snakes, my answer came out sounding absurdly funny. I mean, it should have been the other way around: me, asking Arthur "kuha ng ahas ko, sige na?", then his response "anong gagawin ko du'n?" would have been naturally appropriate.

Asking for a reason why one should get a dog reminds me of a scene in the movie "Other People's Money" when Danny de Vito offered an office guest a donut who declined saying "No thanks, I'm not hungry", de Vito replied " Since when you have to be hungry to eat donuts?".

My point is that dogs are indispensable, this is why they're ubiquitous, their poop are even more, but you don't often step-on python droppings on the street in the morning.

Sleeping with sunglasses on

Yesterday, while waiting for my mother outside a massage clinic I noticed three blind masseurs: two were seated but one of them, whose head was tilted up and mouth wide-open, was obviously fast asleep. The third guy was also sleeping, but in a more comfortable and conventional position: atop an unused massage table and a folded bedsheet served as his pillow.

The quiteness of the place, broken only by the sound of the radio tuned-in to an afternoon drama series, made me feel like we were in a rural setting.

When the 'third guy' awoke I was curious to watch him move about in a familiar territory: When he arose his feet precisely touched the strap of his slippers on the side of the converted bed, then he put it on and stood up. I was impressed.

Before he proceeded he fixed his shirt and I noticed and thought to myself that he wore his clothes better than some of the guys I know with 20-20 vision.

Then he let me down by bumping into a narra sofa, but he quickly regained his composure and confidently walked the long hallway leading to a makeshift kitchen.

All those time a thought was lingering in my mind about asking them to describe for me how they imagine their surroundings, or me - talking to them, 'look' like. But if they were born blind then it would be a stupid query since these things I am asking requires visualization, which they have no idea. If they were not born blind,- like lost their eyesight recently - then obviously, it is still a dumb question.

When I imagine, it is always in 'full color'. I'm sure they imagine too, so my question anew is: how?

Anyway, A woman arrived who, I presumed, worked there, am certain has something wrong with her vision otherwise she wouldn't have looked at me -as she was approaching- like a bull whose about to charge.

After reporting to the receptionist she brought out her 'ulam' and went to the kitchen. When she came back after meal she picked up a cracker sandwich wrapper and a pair of scissors on the receptionist's table. I'm not debasing her or being prejudicial or anyhing, I meant it in a good way when I thought that she's the kind of pragmatic 'manang' who makes toothpicks out of discarded cracker wrappers...which she did.

Be content...not

I find time and age as both reflective and entertaining.

Like when I see high school students and realize they were born when I was already in college. If fatherhood was my high school graduation gift , like some of my batchmates, then these high school kids today could have been my children's classmates.

Or when I think of when my mother was my age now. I was in grade 1 then and I could easily recall the important events (the odd part of it is that some of the trivial things I could recall vividly) between that time and now, and I must say, that was quick. So the age of 56 (my mother's age now) is just around the corner.

Or when I realize that it didn't really take a long time to get to this age. If I'd imagine doubling that short a time, I'd be 64 already.

That, for me, is how life will go by - fast. 

If there was a time that I thought time was going by slowly, it was when I lived with my grandparents. For one thing, it seemed they were growing old slowly. Until recently, I believed that what my 6-year old daughter see in her great-grandparents was the same image I saw when I was my daughter's age. But now, sadly, time is catching-up on Lolo, because, his health is quickly deteriorating.

All these, plus the fact that my father died young, at about my age, and add to that the lack of big challenges in life that would have made me swear "I won't let my children experience what I went through" does affect my (lack of) motivation. The phrase "Long-term goals" would draw a carefree snort rather than an anxious contemplation.

Wifey will kill me if she read that last part (which she will...read this, that is)and I can already hear her saying "make plans for the sake of our children!". Well, I did, in fact I already asked God to take care of my children, even now, just as He did with me. I highly recommend Him, talking from experience, He's more reliable than any of the best insurance companies and education plans out there. But in anybody's pragmatic point of view, I have not, really, directly responded to my better-half's calling for a "plan of attack" on the dreaded 'inevitable future'.

Of course I have plans. I also have dreams -and they're ambitious. But for me, dreams will remain as dreams and what I get I accept with much gratitude. And what I get is more than I deserve, so the more I am motivated...to be more thankful. If there is a downside to this divine providence it is that through this blessings I also realize that it is not the result of the toils of my own hands that I enjoy a secure life...temporarily, so diminishes the virtue of self-reliance and with it the motivation to strive harder.

One of the things that christianity advocates is contentment. Husbands love to preach this to his family, especially if financial crisis is imminent. But wives -as they are- will prove to be the most difficult to indoctrinate, since their minds are clouded by their hard-line adherence to practicality and their inherent doubts-about-everything-her-man-is-telling, dismissing it as just another excuse for laziness.

Like I said above, life's short, why spend it all working for a future your not even certain if there is one at all?  Are we really creatures built to toil for long hours in an artificially lighted and ventilated enclosures? Then why do we, unexplainably, long for and if given a chance, enjoy the outdoors and the cool winds and everything nature has to offer and even dream that some day, when your done working, you'll live in a place exactly the opposite of where you live and work right now. Are we really built to work in a foreign land, away from loved ones, which will eventually do more harm than good to one's family?

I think it is least encouraging and more of a sad reflection whenever we read a citation for a retired employee wherin a part of it states "He gave the best years of his life"-or something to that effect- working for the government or for a certain company. By acknowledging what he had given up only means that the employer is aware that he had, all along, deserved better. The citation is only telling him "hey, you could have been somewhere else, doing something worth living for, enjoying the best life has to offer for a man in the best years of his life. But you stuck it out here, until the end, so this is what you get...a plaque of appreciation. Good luck and enjoy whatever you can squeeze out of your dried-up life."

"Enjoy your retirement" - That's like a contradiction of terms. I mean, what's an old fart to enjoy?

Bottomline is: Wifey won't buy any of these. My lame excuses disguised as a well-intentioned lesson on contentment won't do it.

Now, if you will excuse me, I will sign-out and go to the Canadian Embassy website and checkout their latest immigration requirements.

Atari anyone?

Today I'ved been reminded of my age.

When Yahoo! Games' Text Twist bogged-down I jokingly offered a 'Game & Watch' to the dissapointed college student. I repeat, a college student.

Her reply was "huh?". Thinking she didn't hear me clearly, "Game & Watch!" I told her again, and the same "huh?" reaction.

That's when the words 'generation gap' hit me, she didn't have any idea what I was saying.

But it was like only yesterday that I was addicted to those tiny gadgets!

I'll have what everybody else's having

What is talent? It is simply the ability to overcome stage fright. Conquering topophobia is a talent in itself. This is my conclusion from watching tv lately. An example (this I see alot): There was a candidate in a beauty contest who performed a dance number. From what I had seen, it, obviously, wasn't about the quality of the performance that should be noted but her guts - pulling off a lousy, for-compliance-sake performance, with confidence.

A talent is what you can do in front of other people. You don't have yet the talent even if you are endowed with an exceptional singing voice if your 'exposure' is limited only within the confines of your bathroom or in front of the clothesline while hanging freshly-washed clothes. What you have is only a gift.

A kid who can make his underarm fart in 'Nickelodeon' is showcasing his talent while a person who can identify all the genes in human DNA is, more likely, gifted.

I was tempted to cite Einstein, but he was not gifted. He was a genius. Like Mozart was to music. I am not much into classical music, so I cannot tell a work of a genius from, say, a Levy Celerio -I'm not saying that he was not a genius in his own right. He wasn't a national artist for nothing.

If those people who call the shots in the art world say that a Picasso's painting of a disfigured woman with a volleyball by the beach is a masterpiece, then for me it is. Who am I to contradict what erudites proclaim? If I cannot appreciate it now, what I usually do is to just force it down my throat and chalk it up in my head under the category: The-Elite-Says-So.

But with movies I let no one tell me what to watch. Like in the case of two Eastwood films: I don't think "Mystic River" deserved the criticisms it received. Contrary to what critics say, I find it a better movie than "Unforgiven".

Other things takes some getting-used-to to appreciate, like music. New genres - usually a mutation of the established genres - pop-up once in a while. Now it'll take more than regular air-time on the FM radio or gimmicks to sell it to the people. When I first heard the album "Nevermind" I thought it was the musical form of an excruciating headache. But it didn't take long before I fell in love with it. Now I believe that Kurt Cobain was a genius.

It would be naive or downright stupid of me not to realize by now that there are in the music and fashion industry who are calling the shots. They practically tell everyone what to wear and what to listen to. How else can anyone explain how fashion gurus get to predict what'll be in and what'll be out next year? Does anyone really think that fashion evolve naturally? Some people simply won't allow it.

This is how I think it works: Once a year famous names in the fashion world come together to submit their own idea of the next big trend. Everyone's sketches will be flashed on the overhead projector and the design that will register the biggest laugh from the audience will be adopted.

How can I prove this? Well, ever wonder why trendy clothes look funny at first? Well, because they are. Initial reactions are almost always correct. How come it still proliferates? Because nobody dares to laugh at 'what's in'. We have to keep that opinion to ourselves or suffer ridicule from peers for not being up-to-date or being 'baduy'.  Now, imagine everybody thinks like this, so that there is now a false sense of approval or support from everybody by just being quiet about it. Don't be surprised if there will be more and more youngsters who walk around looking like clowns.

Now if the above isn't convincing enough, here is a truly 'give-away' in proving the veracity of my conspiracy theory: Why are your photos of the last decade so hilarious and embarrasing to watch? Because by now your already sober and in a better position to render an honest judgment. As if looking from a distance, you now see the real big picture: That they were really meant to be funny in the first place. Notice also that only after the trend has become something of the past or 'Hindi na uso' we are now allowed to laugh our heart's out at those silly wadrobes and hairtyles we once proudly display and used to impress the opposite sex.

So fashion-wise, one is actually more of a Tommy Hilfiger than a Dennis Rodman if he snorts rather than applaud at what he sees in fashion shows. Ever notice how simple fashion designers dress-up? When they are dragged on the stage by the models after the show, they're the only ones who look... normal. Take your fashion tips from them...literally.

Not much of a different setup in the music industry. I remember the tv show "How Did They Do That" featured how they made Billy Ray Cyrus an instant household name and his one-hit-wonder "Achy Breaky Heart" an 'overnight' hit. Look!, they even made money out of revealing to the people they screwed-up how they were screwed-up good...in record time!

All these only make me realize that I do not know what I want until it is rammed down my throat or shoved up my a_ _, whichever is more convenient to them.

You can't beat the system.

People are beautiful bonobos

Sex in public?! in skoopy.com yet again there is a new post of a couple having sex on the beach in plain view of other people. Initially what I think of those photos is that either it was 'photoshoped' or It was real but the couple just forgot to take their 'Bonobo-suppressant' pills. It would have been understandable if they were in a nude beach.

Were they dared to do it in public for an irrisistable bet offer? or was it that the dominant 'Bonobo' part of their genes just took over - and like their first cousins in the jungle which are known to even offer sex for a bite of what the opposite sex is eating - that a simple proposal from the woman: a stick of cigarrete afterward and she can let him "have it" now, may have motivated the perverse act?

But I am more inclined to believe the pics are not hoax...there are even websites for those things!

Think of this: there are 6 billion plus people right now... How many have still cameras or video cams? and how many have access to the internet?  a tiny fraction?.. and how many of that fraction have the opportunity (read perfect timing) to record the weird stuff?... I won't be suprised anymore to know that there are alot of things going around that I have yet to find out.

Some people see caucasians as pervs. Why? because they're the only ones seen in perv stuffs. Why? because they're the only ones with the resources. But sometimes we see a brown woman in the picture? it is only made possible by a white man either behind the camera or on top of her...Of course I'm being racially bias. Whatever color or economic status, we're all intertwined. It's like "Eyes Wide Shut" meets "8mm."...

Sometimes we see the rich few as pervs. Does it mean that the poor majority of the world (at least in this part of the world) are upright?... Give the 'have-nots' half the equipments of the 'haves' and brace thyself of what you are about to witness.

Within my social, cultural and religious circle everybody seems 'mainstream'...In my neighborhood alone, they think I'm a little weird because I keep a pet snake.

Speaking of sex...and now pets, for us humans, and maybe in all of the animal kingdom, sex is pleasurable (thus the tendency to much abuse). In dog training what is referred to as positive reinforcement is when a trainee is rewarded for correctly executing a certain command. Likewise orgasms serve as incentives for couples who correctly execute the procreation activity and guaranteeing a regular repetition of the said activity... hopefully with the same partner. Thus the cycle of motivation is also guaranteed to keep on rolling.

Now, I have a dog and training her the basic commands. What if I'd just wait until she is sexually mature. By then she'd be most receptive if I reward her with the ultimate positive reinforcement. Of course it can be achieved...but not without cost. It means acquiring a partner for her...financially, it's out of the question. For now I'd settle for the tried and tested mix of reward and punishment, besides I think the former method only works for humans, males specifically.

In some of the provincial buses I often see warnings written in bold letters behind the driver's seat that reads: "Do not talk to the driver while the bus is in motion". But in Thailand some buses' sign read: "Please refrain from having sex inside the bus". In both cases the safety of all passengers is the prime consideration that these signs were put up. Driving requires concentration, the driver should be free from any form of distraction. In like manner, a good-intentioned internet surfer should be protected from any perverse site. Sure, but these sites are benign unless I purposely visit one. It's like knives: no less dangerous than guns and they're just in the kitchen.

why blog then?

I badly want to blog now. I feel I'm in the mood to write something but I cannot think of anything to write about.

But there are times also when I have things in my mind that are worth blogging but my chronic laziness prevents me from writing it down.

What's good about blogging is that - at least for me - I am so concious and careful about what to write bout and how it is written. Thinking I have so many readership who are eagerly awaiting my new blog when in fact there are none. But knowing this almost contemptible situation means that I have only myself to please from the very start. Everything that I blog here is for my own consumption.

The best part of this whole thing and also my wish is that in the future I will still have access to my blog. It will be like looking at old photos. I was tempted to say 'old diary' but I never experienced reading my own or someone else's old diary, so... like I said I'm only writing for myself here so why should I write something I couldn't relate to.

Though I created this blog so I could express myself freely, which under normal circumstances I couldn't do, I still end up shy of going all out which leads me back to the question: why blog then? because in the back of my mind I still insist my blog is widely read.

So there's a name for that

whenever I'm cornered, or in any situation that is too bad to be true, I know I'm only dreaming. This is called lucid dream. What I would do next is either wait it out til I wake up or conciously alter my dream to my favor. But 100% of these dreams' excitement end when I realize it as so. From thereon it becomes, as Rasheed Wallace would put it,"like a week-old soda" (or coke, if I were to be quoted). I mean dreams lose its fun -or flavor -once you get your hand on it.

Lucid dream. Nice term. I think I encountered this term in the movie "Vanilla Sky" but didn't know what it meant until now.

It was a usual morning for Rafael: the sun is up, warm and bright all around. A great way to start the day is to consume a great amount of this warm and succulent fluid which is blessedfully available everywhere. "No" he told himself, "this time I will not eat from where I slept. Besides I need to exercise". So he went looking for a perfect spot to have breakfast.

As he was struting along, Rafael noticed everybody else were frantinc, moving about without direction, as if lost. He just shrugged off what he had noticed and went on. Finally he found a good place to eat.

"Pwe" Rafael spat out the food with much disgust. "cold and spoiled?" he wondered aloud. Then as if everything he heard around him seemed to amplify, even the ones he heard awhile ago flashed back. He then realized the commotion was all about what he just found out: the once abundant food supply has suddenly turned inedible.

In the midst of the chaos a known leader of the community stood on a high place and asked everyone to stop panicking and listen: "You react to this as if you were not expecting it to happen! I know this is not the right time to say this but I have not failed in reminding you about an impending cataclysmic event. That time has come. From now on, as I have predicted, everything around you will wither, will start to emit foul odor, and worst of all there will be no more food."

"what are we going to do now?" asked an elderly from the crowd.

The leader replied "A....continued

Helga d' doberdog

Last sunday I brought home a doberman. She's around 2 months old. The whole family was actually expecting her a week before. The extra waiting  caused a buildup of excitement on all of us, especially on me because I even dream of our would-be-pet repeatedly. It's not nightmare kind but I woke up several times with cold sweats.

I remember one time when I was still a small boy in the province, my mother and aunt brought home a new t.v. set to replace the old one already broken that looked like a furniture cabinet because of its wooden housing. Maybe out of excitement, the "Charlie's Angels" series I watched on our new appliance set I dreamed about the whole night, and I woke up several times sweating.

But the real cause of those dreams with sweating spells has to do more on my state of health than on my emotional state (excitement) on both times, at least. In both instances I was having fever, not which is brought about by much excitement, but by natural causes like cough&colds or tonsilitis.

Back to the doberman. She's worth every centavo of what I have yet to start paying for in installments.

History, virtually, repeats itself

Sometime this month Discovery Channel will be showing "Alien Planet".

This is not just made up by some hollywood production company but a concerted effort of some of the most notable scientists.

From the preview clip, the story goes like this:

In 2014 an unmanned spacecraft will descend on a (far away) planet to discover life. Mind you, it is not aliens dicovering us, as the prevailing popular view is, but the other way around.

And what we will discover are dinosaur-like creatures. From the camera angle - which is at eye-level - of the computer-generated animation, the scene is like that of earth being visited by flying saucers and other auxillary crafts.

To me it seems to suggest: "hey, this is what happened to earth long ago, we're only retelling it" or "this a good example of 'history repeating itself' -on another planet, though".

We don't have cable so I won't be able watch it so I can only wonder about the show's content. I like to think that the story goes like this:

Aside from discovering the planet's rich natural resources - including a precious metal we badly need to heal earth of the cataclysmic effect of global warming - it is also a good candidate for human habitation.

But those giant dinosaur-like creatures  native to that planet would get in the way of our (man's) plans. So we decided to innahilate them all (mass extinction). Well, not all. We left some smaller species which were later genetically manipulated to serve as slaves to labor in the mines.

Apparently, a high ranking (Human) official, either out of pity -maybe because these slaves bears strong resemblance to us in many ways, or just out of plain evil motive of wanting to stir up the almost perfect setup, tricked these innocent beings into believing that by rebelling against the system they will be free in all ways possible and become like us. (He didn't actually tricked them because there was really an existing contraption that is meant for upgrading these less-than-human mutants into a complete, concious man.

As if to tease or just -for our own amusement- see how long our creations can hold off their curiosity, we even placed this sophisticated machine conspicuously at the center of this artificial environment where men and these mutants interact.

And the deal was: They were not to mess around with this machine. It was not explained to them as to what this thing is until this officer revealed it to them. Well, obviously, he's excellent at convincing - or maybe his product is too good to pass off - otherwise they wouldn't have listened.

But the real, more serious reason, is difficult to understand as to why it was placed in a tempting location, let alone why build it in the first place. It remained confidential... forever.

Anyway, after the rebellion they were cast out of their comfy environment to an unknown territory. There they multiplied rapidly.

In the course of time, they produced female offsprings that proved too irresistible for the male humans stationed  on that planet. So these men took for themselves these females as mates not knowing the consequences of their actions.

This ellicit unions produced offprings of fearsome and evil reputation. It came to a point where evil deeds have become a commonplace that the human leaders decided to destroy this "diluted" race to start all over.

But we need something to start with.

So we searched for a family whose genes still carry the original strain -"unblemished". Not long after they were found, (which was next to impossible)they were ordered to build a huge vessel - where they will be safe, along with the other endemic creatures they were required to secure - that can withstand severe floods brought about by a long period of rain.

Ok, it's already a give-away, as the title goes, anyone can take the story from this point -- alluding to the book of Genesis 6.

KUNG SINO MAN ANG MAUNA..

My wife and I sometimes talk about the inevitable, death. Not the serious kind of talk though.  There are two things she wishes: One, she prays that God will not bless her with a long life. Notwithstanding our eldest daughter's wish:"sana we will live a very long life" her Mama would frown and say "I don't like that happening to me!".

And two, she prays that God would take her first. She doesn't like the idea of her being the one left behind.

In the course of our discussions we'd often touch on the topic of remarriage. Thanks to my steady and constant lobbying throughout the years, I finally persuaded her to reverse her initial stand of not allowing me to remarry if the inevitable happens.

On my part there is no problem. I only want whatever she believes is best for her. If achieving that means remarrying, then, by all means... I wouldn't want to get in the way... now that's love.

Out of this talks-over-coffee I've concocted a pretty funny scenario (My wife, considering that the story involed her in a fictional predicament, registered the best laug