Pointless Update

I've been bored for the past couple of days, and something is wrong with my home's internet connection.

So, I won't be updating my blog this week. What I have planned is, I will finish Haruki Murakami's "Wind Up Bird Chronicle". And when I'm not reading fiction, I will learn as much Adobe Illustrator as I can. I want to change this old (though admittedly cute) header image, and besides already having one motive, learning vector arts is the most productive thing I could do before the year ends.

What happens this December? I'll be using up all my company leaves, and that means in the last two weeks of December I won't be working. I'm currently finding out whether or not I can take my vacation somewhere outside Manila. Options include Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, or Bali.  

But anyway, this is a week when I'm taking a hiatus from the world of blogging. I'll be back soon. And if I don't, at least expect me to have an entry about December 10.

Why I Blog

I don't give a damn about most of those bloody tag games. This one is different enough, so I'm playing along for once. Actually, the only reason why it interests me is because it's a question I've constantly asked myself: why do I blog?

Five reasons are required for this game, although that's excessive for me. BUT, I do have concrete answers as to what AREN'T my reasons, so I'll put that along.

So without further delay… 

1. I DON'T BLOG TO EARN PAGE RANKS (PR's). I recently read a blogger who claims not to care about PR, then proceeded to post page ranks there. Viva hypocrisy! Anything becoming a popularity contest loses its real purpose (and loses its appeal to me). Take Friendster: its real intention was to connect people, but because to many the number of friends they have is bragging rights, they'd not hesitate to add people they don't actually know and wouldn't bother exchanging messages with. Take music and blame its decline to reality TV's. Take jazz and DO NOT think of CURLY LOCKS. DO NOT.

Now take blogging: I can't stand bloggers whining about the clicks they get. I do like it if my friends read my blog, but that's another thing entirely (and anyway, I mostly just send my blog posts directly to their mail. It's up to them if they come here or not!) PR's don't dictate the quality of your site. And, you know, porno sites get high page ranks too. Screw those (Err, yeah, that's the point)! If you want to be widely read, LEARN TO WRITE. And if you want to exchange links with me, make your blog impressive and STOP WHORING IT!

2. I DON'T BLOG TO IMITATE. What I do is I put my thoughts down on paper/form and let it flow as naturally as I could. My writing style may have been influenced by some people that I read, but I do not deliberately open another blog in a different window then write in the exact same way. Perhaps some readers may not have a clue what I'm talking about, so allow me to cite an example (but I won't explicitly name names): there's this "emerging" person who's getting all the credit for dissing everything. Now if you've ever read that blog with www.somethingawful.com opened on another window then you'd find them strikingly plagiaristic. It's sad that these days someone can get all high brow by copying another's work.

3. I DON'T BLOG TO DISS. Allow me to spell the difference between criticizing and dissing. Criticizing is when you find flaws. Dissing is simply an act of disrespecting. All dissers criticize, but not all critics diss. And sometimes dissers do not even need to explicitly find flaws; they only need to speak or act rude to another.

I don't make it a secret that I like to criticize. I do it because I want to voice my opinion and to encourage change. I don't do it just for kicks. Occasionally, I'd diss, but I don't dedicate my blog to that act alone. Now if you recall, I mentioned this blogger who imitates somethingawful. That blogger also happens to be one of the most notorious dissers of the "blogosphere". Like all dissers, that blogger laughs at others to validate own ego, and has NOTHING to contribute to the society. And people are totally sucking up to that person just for that, engaging in comment-box ranting/genuflecting whenever they could. I just don't get it. Schadenfreude is fun but if that's all you do, if that's all you can teach, then shut yer trap!

4. I DON'T BLOG TO BECOME PART OF THE BLOGOSPHERE. I started blogging just before it became all the rage. While I'm at it, allow me to tell you I fervidly HATE that buzzword. Th4nKs 2 w3b 2.0 3v3ry1 H4S 4 Fr34K1N 0P1N10n! And because of that, people with no respect for sensibilities, languages and truths (particularly truths) CAN WRITE FOR THE PUBLIC! Back in the days, writers have to research to know and to have any platforms for their writings. Now all they need is to rest their burden of proof on ANOTHER BLOG, so if their credibilities are attacked, they can say "I SAY SO BECAUSE THE BLOGOSPHERE SAYS SO SO BLAME THEM NOT ME"! I love freedom of speech but for the love of all that is holy, I do not need people without credibility WRITING and COMMENTING on topics THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT! And if you factor Web 2.0 by popularity-driven mentality, the culprit of why certain celebrities, websites, blogs, movies and governments emerge/endure becomes lucid: a lot of people have bad taste, and they'd use everything in their power to suppress those that disagree with them. Mob mentality at its finest.

5. I BLOG. JUST BECAUSE. Not to belong. Not to shout. Not to validate my ego. Not to pander. I blog, because I enjoy this space, and I'm just savoring every minute of it. Call it boredom, call it love, call it "too much spare time", whatever.

And now I'm out to tag someone. Watch your comment box.

Whammy - Push Your Luck

Dear Whammy,

Thank you so much for supplanting all those teleseryes Kapuso airs from 6-630. Now I can fall into deep slumber during these times.

As to why it wants you to exist, I don't know. Why it believes this show is riveting, I don't know.

I don't even know what your point is.

You claim to be an exciting game show, but you are as exciting as a dinner with mannequins. All you require of gamers are for them to press buttons. Incidentally, you push the wrong ones. You're technically like videogames, except they have a lot more going on than a bunch of obnoxious celebrities yelping "Money money ayoko ng whammy STOOOOOOP!". And you bet we enjoy seeing celebrities win a bunch of monoblock chairs or fishball showcase. That's very important. Your occasional attempt at "intelligence" also fails when all you require are for gamers to answer brain-dead trivia questions. Besides offering us pure joy as Vandolph gets showered with slimy goo, you have even the hosts bored. You have no grasp to what an entertainment is.

I revise my stance. Go away. I prefer watching (while criticizing) Le Robe to tolerating another minute of badly CG-ified monster laughing in that generic hoarse monster-y voice.

All the best.

Driving

Okay, so today's topic is about driving in Metro Manila (MM). 

I don't pretend to be clever, but normally I try to start a post with a snappy first paragraph. Today I am indecisive. I could say driving in MM is more fearsome than exploring the underground city of Edinburgh (then title it "The Long Halloween". Ooh, the horrors!). Or I could say our traffic is our own Iraq War. Or I could say the state of our road is the reflection of our society. Or I could say there's a deeply disturbing psychology about the boorishness of those bloody drivers. Or I could say there are more accidents on our roads than there are questionable Mattel toys (now that's really stretching it). Or I could say there are more Stephon Marbury's here than any NBA columnists could shake their thesauri at. Or I could simply say I hate driving in Manila. Right, the last one's the simplest. I'm sticking to that then.

I hate driving in MM (not because I hate driving, but) because…

(Gee, I hate spelling these out because I risk sounding like I'm insulting your intelligence - which isn't my intention - but pardon me because I'm just doing this in case any foreigners are reading)

…traveling in Metro Manila is more chaotic than reading a Chuck Palahniuk's book. Why? It's because of bad vehicles, poor traffic engineering and the patchy pavements – the lunar module was invented by a Pinoy; bet he didn't have a hard time experimenting.

And then there are the travelers, who are arguably the greatest malefactors.

Jeepney drivers: They're anarchy, personified. They accelerate as they please, swerve as they please and unload passengers as they please. They ignore traffic regulations, and the cops just ignore them. There’s even a belief that they pay monthly fees so they could act above the law.

They don't even care about other people. When you toot your horn they won't recognize you. On the other hand they can't get their hands off their horns. They also play loud and awful music on some subpar superwoofers they got from Raon.

They also don’t use their headlights.

Bus drivers: They're like jeepney drivers, except they use their headlights. So they're not as boorish, but that's like saying North Koreans are freer than Burmese.

They're more insufferable because they act like the big guys on the road. Buses are larger than most cars, and since the drivers know full well that they won't be quite as damaged if they collide with most cars, cue the super indiscriminate swerving.

Bikers: They should be called "Crevice Hunters", although the sexual innuendo should be, um, stripped.

In their utter disregard of their own safety, bikers are the most irritatingly opportunistic: where there's passage, there are bikers. Bikers are very troublesome because even when car drivers look at their side mirrors they won't be able to anticipate bikers who zig and zag between other lanes and vehicles (as though impersonating the chess horse). But by far the bikers' most annoying habit is their tendency to pass behind a car that's backing. Would it kill them to wait, huh?

Just how stupid is that?

Cyclists/Horse Carriage Drivers: In most cases, they exist only because their customers are too walk-phobic.

The unanimous criticisms are that they don't only slow down those vehicles behind them, they also travel in directions opposite of the road. The horse of the carriage pees and poos anywhere.

Rich and spoiled drivers: They worship speed. Their favorite trilogy is not the thought-provoking Godfather or the fantastical Lord of the Rings; it's the one with cars. What do the call it, The Dumb and the Dubious? They think that just because they got fast cars and hot babes (who are only in it for the blingblings), they could do as they please and treat the road like their private race circuit. So cue the Pimp My Ride rhetoric, the obnoxious driftin', the pulled-down shades, the "Mad Skillz" tautin', the dust-bitin', the slurs-throwin', the faux street-cred forkin' and the crunks-blastin'! And try not to get on their bad side lest you risk being cussed at.

Bloody obnoxious, these posers! If they’re so interested in gangsta-frontin' then why not just live in Tondo?

Cops: Your Philo 101 should teach this:

Who is more loathsome: the clueless driver who unintentionally violates vague traffic laws, or the slacking cop who comes out of hiding when the opportunity to fine the said driver arises?

Pedestrians: who pop out of nowhere and can't read signal lights. 'Nuff said.

Writing in agony

A friend of mine has just finished the first draft of his novel and because he thinks I might be a good critic, he's sent me the files. I thought it's going to be hard times for me because I abhor reading books on a monitor (to date, I've only finished 1 e-book) but I'm also too reluctant to waste papers and printer inks.

And so, I'm quite surprised that I was able to make it past a hundred pages (out of 150, I guess that's a novella then) without batting an eye. I'm thoroughly impressed with his work! I would love to give a brief summary of it here but I promised him not to tell anyone yet, though I'll be glad to advertise his book once it gets published. For now, I commend him and his work (so far).

At the same time, that only leaves me frustrated. I know how hard it is to write a novel, but it's also something I've wanted to do. Many people think I'm weird because I often space out and become quiet. What they don't know is that I woolgather. A lot. I have plenty of stories and characters made and stored in my brain, and I would often assert that my daydreams are productive because I will write about them someday. I've started writing a few, but because of lack of words/skills, abundance of bad lucks, or sheer dissatisfactions, my works are either lost or trashed.

When I was a kid, I did write, but I didn't consider it anything more than a pastime. I've only started to fall in love with writing when I've started blogging two years ago, which wouldn't happen if it wasn't because of my female best friend's VERY persistent urgings (she's blogged since the late 90's I think). It's only then when I actually spent time developing my writing skills. To be honest, I never even thought that my other blog would last long - it's two years now and still alive, though no one ever comments there. That's an achievement, but I fail to find reasons why I should be smug, since I'm not even close to finishing a book. And in case you're wondering how I could want to create stories but not want to write, let's just say I used to want to commit those stories to another medium.

The longest I have gone was write four chapters (plus prologue) of a story involving spirits who combat catastrophes. Unfortunately, I lost the draft. Apparently those spirits lost to a flashflood of computer viruses. My other stories didn't fare better. I would often write the first chapter, revise it over and over, and finally decide it's trash and promptly erase everything. Oftentimes I would blame myself for not taking writing lessons earlier in my life, but the fact is that I did but I churned only soulless essays like how Kenny G's churned soulless jazz (he still does that). Unlike Kenny G though, I didn't earn a penny. I bemoan not falling in love with writing sooner. I could've been more capable. Yet, I don't stop imagining (there are reasons why I called my blog NIGHTDREAMER, and it's not just because of Wayne Shorter), and it feels like my heads about to burst with too much ideas that don't have any outlet of release. 

So here I am, whiny, yet busy, lazy, aging (24 after a month) and distracted, unable to do what I want, and bitter that my friend has finished what I've barely started. While he's currently editing his draft, I am wistful yet lost in inaction.

Le sigh.

Feedbacks please?

Hey all.

I want to post new (and meaningful) entries on my blog, but it feels like my head's been buried under a pile of garbages. Damn mental blocks. I notice that it comes every time I'm experiencing a hangover from a long vacation (I didn't work on Nov 1 and 2, by the way).

So while I'm trying to kick that phantom bother out of my head, I figure that this is a good time for feedbacks. From you. Youse if from philly. Not the moronic, ubiquitous YOU who, while being recipient to Time Magazine's Person of the Year 2006, should be imputed with felony for making Paris Hilton an icon and Sean Kingston a chart-topper (God Almighty, what kind of “music” is “Beautiful Girls” anyway?!). I mean the you who are cultivated, enlightened and have a high breeding for reading my blog and tolerating all my junk.

Okay, back to serious.

I'd like to know what you think of my writing. Do I rock or do I ROCK? Am I “teh MAD SKILLZ” or am I “teh POSERS with NO STREET CRED, dawg!”? Err, wait, didn't I say I'm going back to serious?

What do you think of my writing? Do my topics interest you or would you like to see me write about something else? In what areas should I improve?

Be truthful. Do not be afraid to criticize and hurt my feelings as long as you're not spamming emails of girls who love animals or emails of erection pills. Either send me private messages or post on the comment box. I will read them and be thankful for them.