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Showing posts from October, 2007

average joe

I never knew my father. Well, at least not in the same way that we were able to get to know our mother through the years. My father's name was Jose. He died when I was in grade 5 and even if my twin brother and I practically spent most of our childhood with him he remained a stranger to us. He was aloof and generally kept to himself when he was at home. Perhaps his age had something to do with it. He was already in his 60s when he passed away. All I know is that he was in love with two things: photography and women. Wherever he went, he had his trusty camera with him. I remember accompanying him to our dark room and being fascinated with the process of developing pictures. Even now, I could still smell the pungent odor that clung to his camera bag and the cold, smooth surface of the lenses that he kept in specialized containers. When my brother and I were around five or six years old, my father gave each of us a camera. Though I did not grow up to be a photographer (I could barely…

eraptions on our minds

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Kanina nag-text sa akin ang kaibigan ko. Punyeta daw, nagbigay ng pardon si GMA. Punyeta talaga. Ilang taon lang pala ang kailangan para kalimutan na minsan isang
goon ang nag-rape sa atin. Para na ngang refrain sa isang pop song ang edsa, paulit-ulit na lang at wala naman talagang pakahuhulugan. Sabi ko na lang sa kaibigan ko, nagsimula akong magbasa ng headline nuong naging "independent" ako at nagsimulang magbayad ng renta, tubig at kuryente. Hindi ko alam kung bakit. Siguro sa pagnanasang mabasa ko rin sa headline na yes mayaman na ang mga pilipino at yes lahat tayo kumakain ng sapat, tatlong beses sa isang araw. pero siempre, habang lagatak ang pawis ko sa puwitan ng jeep, ang tanging nababasa ko ay ang putang-inang Abalos na yan, si GMA, at kanina si Erap na malayang malaya na. Sa ganitong oras ako nanggagalaiti. Gusto sabihin sa kanila kung gaano kinasusuklaman ng mga Pilipino ang Pilipinas ngayon.

Alam ba nila na tulad ng maraming Pilipino gumigising ako ng maaga para…

happy halloween

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Jan. 11, 2006
Journal entry

Jed and I met last Sunday after i did some minor editing work in Vigra. We were on our way home when I suddenly had an idea. i asked jed if she wanted to walk around that perya along commonwealth. mind you, it was an interesting night. we went to a horror show and i ended screaming my lungs out. we were with two young girls and instead of comforting them, i made things worse by being such a coward. every time we got into a particularly scary spot, i would clutch my bag and would tell them: Ayan na! Ayan na! when a moo-moo (a neighborhood ratfink, most probably) came out of the darkness and brandished his plastic sword at us, i pushed the two girls aside and ran as fast as i could out of the horror house. i was already a few meters from the exit when i realized that i have left something inside. it took me a few precious seconds to realize that what I have left was my friend, Jed. when i got to her, she had her hands on her face and the moo-moo was pestering…

Zurrika, the wild woman cannibal!

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It was certainly far from enchanted kingdom. There were no gleaming plastic statues of wizards or instantly recognizable characters from America. The ground was not paved with expensive blocks and there were no expensive snack bars in sight. What was plenty that night were trannies, which littered the four corners of the sorry-looking perya. It was almost one in the morning and for the gehls the day seems to be just starting. I could only surmise that the dark, grassy, empty lots along the congressional area serve as a make-shift motel for these gays and their lay for the night. The place, after all, was notorious for being a cruising ground during the 90s.

But no, I wasn't there to look for a lay. I was looking for something to amuse myself and to my delight, the perya featured these Fellini-esque shows.There were mermaids! acrobats! Daredevil motorcyclists! And a South African cannibal! It was titillating to say the least. The cannibal's name was Zurrika, which the cheap card…

Fish tayo, a love story

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"Uy," sabi ko sa sarili ko habang nagsu-surf ako sa internet. "May crush sa 'yo yung katabi mo." Oo nga, reply ko, kanina ko pa napapansin, yung fish dun sa aquarium sa may tabi ko panay dungaw sa akin. Parang nagpapa-cute.

"In fairness, pati isda nagkaka-crush sa yo hahaha," sabi ng sarili ko sa akin.

Siempre, smile to the max ako. Siguro kasi fresh na fresh ako ngayon, bagong ligo at feeling ko yummilicious ang katawan dahil na achieve ko na yung ideal weight ko. Pero teka, di kaya amoy isda lang ako? O well, mejo crush ko rin siya kasi nagugutom na ako at kamukha niya yung type kong isda, yung tilapia. Hmmm... sarap siguro niya with mayo. The only problem is, nagdi-diet ako.

Pano yan fish, maglo-log out na ako? Ay, mukhang malungkot siya. Ayaw niyang saluhin ang mga gutom kong tingin. O siya, sige na, thanks ha, for keeping me company. Nabubuwang na yata ako dahil for no apparent reason sobrang depressed ako. Basta ha, fish tayo?

desperate for respect

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I know that racial typecasting is horrible. I know that movie and TV producers should be responsible enough not to offend any race, religion or culture, or, perhaps, in the case of Desperate Housewives, make an unfound assumption. Remember the crazed Pinay stripper in Adventures of Pricilla Queen of the Desert? I think we also cried foul when it came out because the producers and the filmmakers portrayed a Filipina as a demented housewife so out there that she would spread her legs in front of an audience and spit ping-pong balls out of her cunt.

We know the Philippines is perhaps one of the worst countries to live in (of course, we know all about it, we live here) and though we bitch about the state of our nation all the time, god forbid that anybody, and I mean anybody—this includes you, Teri Hatcher and the producers of that campy show—to disrespect or slander our country (and our educational system, no matter how pitiful it is) in any way.

Having said this, I think we should forge…

revenge of the extras

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I think Ugly Betty is one of the most daring shows to come out of American TV. The fact that it also happens to be very funny and engaging only makes it even more extraordinary. The show has completely turned its nose on a culture that worships fair skinned anorexics and ditzy blondes. Obviously, Betty is the complete opposite of the typical Hollywood lead star. America Ferrera is short, meaty, and most of all, she is of Hispanic descent.

And in this show, the Hispanic-American and the African American actors and actresses get all the best parts. Something that was completely unheard of decades ago. The Caucasian actors, on the other hand, fill the background.

Talking Japanese

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The first time I saw her she was speaking in a language I barely know. Words spat out of her lips like bullets from a machine gun that I had no choice but to stare at her.

"Sumi masen?" she said. "I mean, excuse, can I help you?"

"Oh I'm sorry. I was just amazed at how well you speak the language."

"It's Japanese."

"I know."

"So you're also into Japanese?"

"No, just Kurosawa."

She proceeded to continue with her lecture and I went back to work. We were just cubicles apart in an office that houses a film festival committee and a language tutoring school. I always thought it was a strange marriage of two vastly different worlds and when she eventually moved into my apartment a few months after our first encounter the difference could not be more evident...

to be continued...