Banality

I don’t know what’s happening to me. Last week I could still be awake at 2 AM without feeling a hint of drowse. But since three days ago, I’ve been sleeping early. Like, from 9 PM all the way to 6 AM. Having a day of long, uninterrupted sleep is fine with me. I’ll even concede that uninterrupted sleeps make me recharge. But with three straight days of that, I get irritated. I feel like I should, instead, spend two more hours doing more productive things, like, I dunno, surfing the net! Or playing videogames!

I don’t have the data, but I’m think most people of my generation dislike sleeping early. At least I can attest such claim whenever I look at my brother, who often retires later than 12. He usually draws, makes 3d arts or reads books until then. Maybe it’s not good for his health, and maybe he should stop drinking too many caffeinated drinks to keep him awake, but at least he does finish a lot of stuff. The only thing I have accomplished since 3 days ago is outline a report, which I really should make more elaborate. To make things worse, I’ve been waking up not on very high spirits since this week. It’s like waking up in the morning and dreading the predictability of life, and preferring the inanity and the lawlessness of dreams. I feel that way because of not having anything to look forward to.

So, few days after Holy Week vacation, I’m bored again. It’s not good to have nothing to look forward to during summer, because at least back when I was a student, summer was always the time for celebration, for relaxation, for going to beaches or for going to foreign lands. I’m two years out of school now and this is my third summer as someone who works, but it’s only this year when my summer has become so dull. There’s not a word of having a company outing. I won’t to see the girl I met in Bora last year. My sister’s not coming back from US (but since when has she come back since she left, 7 years ago?). I’m out of touch with some of my closer friends. I’ve been overspending on cheap thrills and not receiving any satisfaction. I’m having a reader’s block (err, it’s like writer’s block, except it’s more of losing the capability and the desire to read). The further "urbanizations" of my immediate surroundings have become blase.

I’m only 24, but fate seems determined to claw away all my youthful energies. I miss my passionate self! I miss waking up everyday with the "I’m ready to take the world by storm" swagger. Cliche and obnoxious all these successful people’s pep talks may be, there’s something about their optimism that I admire, that I do not have and that I feel envious about. I don’t feel that being passive while maintaining these bleak outlooks will do my sanity any good. I need a stimulant. I need activity, and not one that’s overfamiliar.

And you just read a blog post that goes nowhere. Durrr. If you feel that I may be an interesting person, now’s the perfect opportunity to start a conversation with me.

Fast Food Relationships! Boo hoo!

nightdreamer: what’s the feminine of guru?
nightdreamer: gura?!
helgatheweber: no, it’s still guru
nightdreamer: gurette?!

(Nightdreamer dug "gurette", so he changed helgatheweber’s alias)

nightdreamer: so anyway, yesterday i checked the friendster profile of one of my, um, hot friends
nightdreamer: and i learned that she’s in a relationship.
gurette: And?
gurette: Isnt everyone, nowadays
nightdreamer: last week, she wasn’t (obviously i’m interested in her!)
nightdreamer: wait, lemme finish!
nightdreamer: so today, i checked again, and…
nightdreamer: she’s single!
gurette: :))
nightdreamer: wow! ang bilis ng relation ngayon! [translation: wow the brevity of relationship these days!]
gurette: How old’s she?
nightdreamer: 23.
nightdreamer: it’s not very nice for 23 year olds to be this fickleminded about their relationships!
gurette: Well
gurette: Maybe theyve been together for a while
gurette: OH WAIT
gurette: Ok
gurette: BRAIN WORKING NOW
gurette: Heh
gurette: Lol
gurette: DO NOT JUDGE
nightdreamer: and then they found gratification in each other’s (i suspect, body) during the Holy Week vacation.
gurette: Maybe she wasnt really in a relationship
nightdreamer: i’m just guessing, okay! i want to write a novel about quick relationship! and then people will think i’m gay but i’ll be too rich to care then!
nightdreamer: [it’s nice to dream]
gurette: It’s all about urgency, nowadays
gurette: Fall in love fast
gurette: End relationships quickly
nightdreamer: fall out of love fast.
nightdreamer: true dat.
gurette: Yapf yapf
nightdreamer: this is not the only case of "quick relationship" i’ve seen. i also know of another person whose relationship status changes everytime i go to her friendster, which is like once a month.
nightdreamer: sheesh they’re looking for the wrong guy! try me! My relationship with them will last longer than my blog posts!
gurette: Pfffffft
gurette: You have to offer them more than longevity
gurette: Try MONEY
gurette: And GORGEOUS OFFSPRING BROUGHT ABOUT BY GOOD GENES
gurette: And…
gurette: And…
gurette: HOLY WEEK VACATIONS IN BORA
gurette: Ya, that should do it
nightdreamer: okay, way to diminish my self esteem

Odyssey and Ulysses

Homer’s Odyssey takes place on Greece and is about a warrior named Odysseus. After the Trojan War, he is missing, and people from his homeland, Ithaca, think he’s dead. His wife, Penelope, also believes it, but his son, Telemachus, insists that it is a false rumor. Meanwhile, nettlesome suitors of his mom loiter at his home, squander his resources, and abuse his personal space. At the advice of goddess Athena, he goes to an expedition to find his dad and to, together, restore order to where they live. 

I’m fortunate enough to read Odyssey via its verse translation, which, by its structure, makes a very delightful read. The original text is written in poetic form, meaning there are rhythm, rhyme, and consistent syllabications per line, all giving the story a songlike quality. The verse translation retains such quality, while excelling in translating it from Greek to English. Have this been the prose translation, I would’ve been bored with story. 

Why? Because I think that it’s simplistic, and idealistic to the point of silliness. Although I like the straightforward storytelling and I enjoy reading about Odysseus’s adversaries, I am detached from Odyssey’s many characters. That’s because they’re so unbelievable. Odysseus and Telemachus are too smart and too strong, and, added by frequent guidance from gods and goddesses, every obstacles are chicken feet to them. And then there is a pertaining sexism - it is unacceptable for Penelope, among other women characters, to have extramarital sex, but somehow Odysseus is encouraged to do it with nymphs, goddesses and emperor’s daughters. Oh-kay! Anyway, don’t get me wrong, I like Odyssey. I just can’t help feeling that if it is written on modern times, it definitely would be bust.

The reason I read James Joyce’s Ulysses after Odyssey is that Ulysses is supposedly a modern retelling of Odyssey, except it is inhabited by normal characters. Done to spite Odyssey? Who knows. It narrates a day in the life of, mainly, 3 Dubliners. Most of what they do, like debating, teaching, dining, meditating, and strolling, are pedestrian. My complaint is that there are too many scenes of dining out. At times they do not-so-ordinary things, like going to brothels, masturbating in public, having adulterous affairs, and visiting the hospital. They do those aforementioned deeds with considerable amount of musings, and these musings - which covers sexuality, atheism, pro and anti-Semitism, Irish society, among a plethora of other topics - are the gist of the book. Also, Ulysses parallels to Odyssey’s in numerous ways. Stephen Dedalus, for one, is Telemachus. Leopold Bloom is Odysseus. Molly Bloom is Penelope. A random citizen is the Cyclops. Then there are scenes reminiscent of Nestor’s unhelpful advices to Telemachus, or the sceneries of Circe, or the licentiousness of Calypso. Each chapter (of 17) has a counterpart from Odyssey, and it is fun seeing how they relate. 

I must’ve told you around a billion times how Ulysses is an arduous read. Although I have a good grasp of what happens, I admit I have often used a reader’s guide (a first), and even with that, I think I have understood only 70% of Ulysses. It is challenging because it is famous - infamous in some cases - for exploring every developments and nuances of the English language, and oftentimes breaking its rules. There are many made-up words, portmanteaus, and unfinished sentences. They’re all reflective of how words form on our thoughts. For such, James Joyce has been commended and has influenced many modernist/postmodernist writers to take more liberties with languages. I wouldn’t be surprised if Anthony Burgess (of the Clockwork Orange fame) is inspired by Joyce.

I regret saying this, but I can only cautiously recommend Ulysses. I recognize that it’s a remarkable achievement; at the same time, I’m certain that you need a love for words to truly understand its appeal. Otherwise it will be nothing but an unreadable cranial intrusion. I’d also like to warn you that a lot of Ulysses fans are snotty and snobbish. If you intend to try Ulysses out just to deal with them, and so that you officially declare that you can validly gather with some egomaniacs to celebrate Bloomsday, go crazy! I mean, Ulysses is a penis-enlargement pill for these intellectumals. Personally, I think approaching Ulysses on its own merits and not for bragging rights is always a better choice, but I don’t have any theory to back that up. So what can I say, Ulysses has a stigma of elitism. If that description does not turn you away from wanting to read the book, then do pick it up. I’ll be interested to discuss it with you.

What the heckle

cosmeticsjunkie: buy makeup from me
cosmeticsjunkie: ill love you forever if you buy makeup from me.
nightdreamer: and what am i going to do with those makeups?
nightdreamer: i don’t have a girl to give the makeups i buy from you yet!
nightdreamer: give me one and i’ll love her forever.
cosmeticsjunkie: )
cosmeticsjunkie: well…
cosmeticsjunkie: are you interested in gays?
cosmeticsjunkie: i have a gay friend
cosmeticsjunkie: looks nice.
nightdreamer: i’m not interested in gays! Raowwrgg!
cosmeticsjunkie: but he looks nice!
cosmeticsjunkie:
nightdreamer: but you know, one of my gay friend from office just left
cosmeticsjunkie: you can buy makeup from me and look at them and think
cosmeticsjunkie: i bought them from cosmeticsjunkie
nightdreamer: i felt bad about not saying goodbye to him
cosmeticsjunkie: cosmeticsjunkie loves me forever
nightdreamer: ok my self esteem isn’t that screwed up.
cosmeticsjunkie: )
cosmeticsjunkie: i know. its a joke.
nightdreamer: what? I’m serious! My self esteem isn’t that screwed!!11111
cosmeticsjunkie: im also serious that im only joking!
cosmeticsjunkie: about the makeup thing
cosmeticsjunkie: i just feel like heckling someone
nightdreamer: i have a lot of officemates worth heckling
cosmeticsjunkie: none more worthy than you are
nightdreamer: ok, i meant heckling in a bad way
cosmeticsjunkie: mahilig akong kulitin ka (translation: i love to heckle you)
cosmeticsjunkie: pag nasa mood siyempre (translation: especially when i’m in the mood)
nightdreamer: as in you’re heckling them because you hate them, not because you have an obsession with them. and in your case i belong to that latter category
cosmeticsjunkie: hey!
cosmeticsjunkie: i dont have an obssession with you.
cosmeticsjunkie: goodness

(And people say I take myself too seriously). 

The Weather Outside is Hateful, and the Sweats are Undelightful

There’s something very sinister about coming back to work and feeling unwelcomed. I understand that good times - or even quiet relaxation times - have to end at one point. And I had a week of good and relaxed times. I played Call of Duty 4, watched Good Morning VIetnam and Clockwork Orange, read Ulysses and sci fi novellas, studied Photoshop, got new jazz albums, and went out with a friend. But the vacation ended, and whenever that happens, I expect to be busy doing boring tasks again.

Certainly, the boring tasks flew back. It’s also summer and the weather outside is a smothering 37 degree centigrade, so there’s a lot of sweating to be had from home to office. And what did I get after arriving to work, as I hoped to be better ventilated? Disappointments. Our office’s aircon have been busted, and won’t be up for the next two days. In the meantime, we have 4 fans the size of a Playstation trying to compensate for the heat. Fans that small is hardly enough for two persons, so how could 4 fans cool an office of 30? As a result, it’s hotter here than outside. Right now, my desktop computer is facing a sweat-bound visage of Nightdreamer. Is it your fancy to toil all day while perspiring drips to your keyboard?

Yeah, way to worsen my vacation hangover.

Seriously?!

If there’s one thing I do not understand, it’s why people think I’m dead serious.

I mean, seriously… ok, cheap word. Better dash for the thesaurus. Bleh, too lazy. But seriously, I’m not even that serious in real life. Even if I’ve used that word more than three times so far. I mean, you should try being with me in real life! I’m totally different from Nightdreamer, I tell you. When I see cute girls I go giddy-giddy. I fawn for fantastic toys. I delight at eating halo-halo. I rave about the best movies. I invent corny jokes. I generally smile most sporadically. I often get childish outbursts (although none of the annoying tantrums). I sing my speech (huh?). I’m just weird like that.

If you don’t believe me, why not ask some people who’ve met me, or at least those who corresponded with me via IM? 

Of course there’s a reason why I put a more morose front as Nightdreamer (but I still have a hard time believing Nightdreamer sounds that serious). I don’t feel that I should let down my guard on a public domain. With my guard up, I’m not frivolous and I pretty much don’t run around the room being an Adam Sandler (who wants to be that jerk anyway?). If you’ve noticed, I do tend to make fun of certain people, but I don’t go to the extent of dedicating my blog for that purpose. There’s also a tendency for people to think that unless one writes like those editors from The Man Blog, one has no sense of humor. And while I respect the people from The Man Blog, I don’t think I’ve ever claimed that this blog is patterned after that one. I actually find it quite funny that a lot of bloggers are - whether consciously or unconsciously - ripping off The Man Blog. Speaking for myself, I’d much rather be "serious" than be a copycat.

All Jazzed Up, Part 1: Guitar

Two weeks ago, I mentioned about writing a beginner’s guide to jazz music. I figured that the best way to approach this is to specify an instrument, and then list five of my favorite albums from artists playing this instrument. So, welcome to the first installment of All Jazzed Up. As the title suggests, today I will be discussing jazz guitar albums.

5. Virtuoso by Joe Pass
Frankly, there is nothing very remarkable about solo guitar albums. Too many artists do solo guitar albums and, after listening to a few of them, they tend to sound exactly alike. Joe Pass’s Virtuoso, however, outdoes a lot of them because of improvisation skills worthy of the album’s namesake. Yeah, I think that’s kind of cheap to say that. Joe’s a virtuoso, and you can hear that from how he interpreted the 11 jazz standards (and one original track) selected for this album. Most other guitarists, when they want to show off, they resort to being loud or fast. Joe effortlessly displayed impressive fingerworks while playing mellow tracks. I don’t know how he does that, and that’s why this album belongs in my top 5.

Night and Day (Joe Pass)

4. Inner Mounting Flame by Mahavishnu Orchestra
If there’s a jazz album that I would unhesitatingly hand to any rock fan, it’s Inner Mounting Flame by Mahavishnu Orchestra. “But this is an ORCHESTRA!” A two-word rebuttal: John McLaughlin. Look at his guitar. Your objections are overruled. He’s the leader and the selling point of Mahavishnu Orchestra. Quite unlike all other albums I’ve chosen for this list, Inner Mounting Flame is a jazz-rock album, and it rocks as much as a Jimi Hendrix album, right down to the blistering guitar works. It also earns point for being rife with Hindi influences, which makes it a standout work in comparison to everything else.

Meeting Of The Spirits (Mahavishnu Orchestra)

3. Smokin’ at the Half Note by Wes Montgomery
Many will debate on who is the best jazz guitarist of all time, but Wes Montgomery is with little doubt the most commercially successful one. His discography, from his early bop outing to his late devolution to the ghastly pop jazz, has always inspired contemporary jazz guitarists. Without him you wouldn’t hear a lot of jazz guitar albums - although that also would’ve also saved us from some disgusting George Benson airport records. Anyway, imagine the kind of music the typical jazz trio of a pianist, a bassist and a drummer plays. Add Wes to the trio, and you’ll have a good idea of what Smokin’ at Half Note sounds like. The song Unit 7 is heralded as the best jazz guitar song ever recorded. I’m not sure about that, but you can hear it here and be the judge.

Unit 7 (Wynton Kelly Trio & Wes Montgomery)

2. Idle Moments by Grant Green
I could’ve easily put this album on number one, and the only reason why I put another album on the top is because it’s more beginner-friendly. Idle Moments is to me the finest Jazz guitar album, and what’s unfortunate about it is that it’s very hard to describe. That may not be a bad thing though, because the album is certainly unpredictable. All four songs here are varied and memorable, and they have plenty of impressive guitar solos. The vibraphone also helps in many ways, and it blends remarkably well with Grant’s guitar. I know I’m not doing a good job describing Idle Moments, so let me just tell you how to use this album. Ensure that it’s late. The time I post this entry is ideal. Now find a comfortable sofa. Dim the lights. Play the album. Forget all these lousy electronica stuff patched together on Macbook’s GarageBand - this one is the real chilling out done by genuinely talented musicians.

Jean De Fluer (Grant Green)

1. Midnight Blue by Kenny Burrell
That previous entry may have turned you off from this album. Pay that no mind, though, because Midnight Blue is superb. In fact, both Idle Moments and Midnight Blue are albums that I would’ve brought to a deserted island, especially if I plan to become a nocturnal being while living there. Midnight Blue is different to other jazz albums because, unlike most of them, it has a conga and no piano. I think that’s done to make this album more Latin sounding. It works. Midnight Blue is also commendable because the songs aren’t lengthy (quite opposite to Idle Moments, although its length is never tiresome) and they’re very memorable. And did you read the remark on Unit 7 being the finest jazz guitar song? Well, I disagree. I hand that distinction to Midnight Blue!

Midnight Blue (Kenny Burrell)

Disagree with me? Think I have unjustifiably overlooked some artists? Have other albums to recommend? Hit my comment box!
 

Zzz

Yoked and led to resignation, my
Awareness is decreasing and my weariness is arising,
Waning in strength, I yearn for
Nighttime to come, so I can slumber.

Yawn. I’m sleepy. 

Fanboy-Gushing?!

This is insane. Why the hell am I posting a new entry again?! My life has been unremarkable the entire week! Heck, I don’t like what I’ve been writing since the last few days, despite my posts getting an unusually wide audience. It never was my purpose to make my blog a serious commentator of the blogosphere (or some retarded made-up bloggy word), but this week I have analyzed a hot topic twice! Anyway, I am not begrudging those who read my last few posts for my insights of one insensitive fatso. I, uh, thank you, actually, and, err, I don’t know what else to say. This post is going nowhere. 

So, you know, time to lighten up! Juicy gossips time OMG! Last Wednesday, I went to Ink & Stone (a.k.a. A Different Bookstore) to buy Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. Unfortunately, it was out of stock. So, as my second choice, I asked if the store had Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. That, too, was out of stock. Not having a terrific time there, I was leaving, when the store’s attendant asked me to write my contact information so that he can notify me when he’s got stocks of my choice books. So I wrote my names and stuff, and since I have an unnatural fascination with people’s name, I looked at the others who wrote. My eyes popped out when I read the name on top of mine. 

Patricia Evangelista was here! I even interrogated the store attendant just to confirm this! I like her columns in Philippine Daily Inquirer. It doesn’t hurt that she’s such an eye candy, and that she might also be a terrific deipnosophist! Beauty and brain are the kind of one-two punches that knock me off my feet! Cheesy? SHADDUP! So, yeah, I wanted to meet her. Alas, I don’t have the book that she wanted. I mean, I can imagine what I would do if I have it. Since her contact details were at plain sight, I could’ve called her and said, “Hey Patricia, I saw your name on A Different Bookstore [detail removed] branch, and I thought of telling you that I have a copy of this book. Uh, we can trade, or I’ll be willing to sell it to you for a certain price. So, how about it? Can we meet up? Okay see you tomorrow bye!” And then, the next day, I’ll kill her with my mad dressing skillz and my madder humorz!  Fo shizzle!

Seriously though, I didn’t get her contact details. That’s just plain creepy. Still, wouldn’t it be cool if I could see her in person? If she’s reading this, I’d just like to let her know that I’m a fan, and that she can borrow my The Sandman vol. 1 and Upanishads – what I eventually bought – anytime.

… 

I really wish I could write something more useful for anyone, but it’s late and I’m tired. Which begs the question: why exactly am I writing? I don’t know *shrugs*. Anyway, I promise – and this is a promise I intend to fulfill, so take it seriously – to write about a more focused topic next week.

New Header!

I’ve had a pseudo-sketch image as a header for two weeks. Now my header is the colored version of that image, and has an appearance of being drawn/painted on wood.

That’s my last post for this week. Seriously, I mean it now. Or maybe not.

Anyway, let me know what you think of my new header. And have a happy weekend!

Open Letter to Malu Fernandez

(I swear this is the last time I’m going to talk about Malu) 

To Malu Fernandez, 

I have a story to tell you.

On October 2005, I met a cute photographer. She’s a journalism student of New York University. I asked her what it’s like to take journalism. She said it’s amazing, as it’s the course for those who are always curious and for those who want to impart thought-provoking insights to the world. I was very swayed by her passionate descriptions of the field, and I wanted to become a journalist myself. Yeah, you know, I was easily swayed by cute girls. It was from this brief moment of awe that I started setting aside time to improve my writing skills. I often visited the editorial section of Philippine Daily Inquirer and finished their articles feeling sated (and learned new words). 

When I read your OFW article I was shocked. How could you write something so ignorant? I never could’ve imagined that someone of your profession would write so insensitively. Then you gave your dissidents your “acerbic wit” repartee, and I felt even more deflated. It wasn’t enough that you lacked tact; you also had to insult your haters’s intelligence. So thank you, Malu. I applaud halfheartedly to your continual bastardization of the craft. Thank you for changing my perception of journalist from rose-tinted to jaundiced. Heh, that rhymed. 

Incidentally, and rather ironically, my Nightdreamer blog kicked off when everyone was all over your asinine charades. I didn’t pay much attention to other bloggers then, but after more than six months, I now have several blogger friends. I respect most of them as much as I respect journalists. I suggest you click on any from the Dope Blog list sidebar and see for yourself, but I think we can agree that they’re better than Perez Hilton, noh? They also have a few things to say about you. 

About this article you just wrote, I don’t like it. No bloggers seems to like it. I suspect that you also won’t like it when you have matured and have increased verbal aptitude. 

Oh, I can see why you hate people who comment on blogs under anonymity. In fact, last week, I mocked one of them. If I read you correctly, your reason for hating them is because they don’t have the balls to, straight-up, confront their enemies. Roight. I wonder about you, Malu. You disparaged a Spanish-descent blogger without mentioning his/her name. How are you an exception to who you disdain? Isn’t that hypocrisy? 

Your accusations to bloggers are baseless, you sounded like you’re just getting acquainted with the internet. Seriously, have you ever gone out to meet any of us? Have you rounded us up like what Beijing do to their cats, and done psychological experiments? I bet you’re making baseless generalizations because it’s something from your comfort zone. I could just as well floss insults to journalists based on reading your toilet paper, but I’m more sensible than that and I still maintain that most journalists are worthy of reverence. Anyway, since you’re this clueless about bloggers, let me teach you a few words we use. 

First, ROFL. It means roll on the floor laughing. We say, “We ROFL at your lousy metaphors” and frankly, we do. We feel sorry for you thinking mass/volume is a clever way to make your point. Now all inebriated bloggers will start teasing each other with “mass over volume” jokes. It’s going to be as overused as the Brokeback jokes. See what you’ve done, you tiddlytwit? Next time, write with more mass*acceleration or force (in case you’re not reviewing your physics)!!!!1111111

Another word is pWnd. It’s another way of saying “owned” or “ruled”. It means being outclassed. You don’t need to dig deep to see how many bloggers pWnd you in verbal proficiency. Do you remember insulting your haters as people who don’t read anything thicker than a magazine? You sounded exactly like someone who doesn’t read anything thicker than a magazine. I suggest you go buy Elements of Style so you can incessantly pound your head with it. You can also try Grapes of Wrath - although it’s as fat as you, it can make you sympathize with proletariats. 

LOL is Laugh Out Loud. The forum regulars from The Man Blog are calling you MaLOL Fernandez, and that’s because they’re laughing at you. They’re laughing at your pathetic green Hermes bag analogy. Really, you don’t have to return it; it will, in utter embarrassment of its owner, dash back to the store. Can you also stop being such an arriviste? Your speech reminds me of the pretend-rich posers from Starbucks. If by chance you’re interested in history, you’ll learn that it’s not usually the elites, but the proletariats, who brought progressive changes. Maybe you can read on Civil Rights Movement and learn about how the equal rights among races were developed? Or you can read about India’s bloodless revolution? Better not underestimate the power of the working class. 

It’s true that most of us bloggers are everyday people who have school, work, family and finances to worry about, but we are writing anyway because we love it. You might also want to remember that before you’ve become privileged, the one who made you so was also a common person. You may find it a good idea not to step on the toes of the everyday people. You should respect them and do what musicians call the grassroots approach, otherwise you will learn that we bloggers are relentless when you’ve incited their wrath, and we’ll use whatever freedom given to us to direct their anger to you. If you’re going to counter this current, then at least back it up with some credentials. Bloody hell, go get some exercise, both physically and verbally! Otherwise, although you may feel smug for being a journalist, there’s nothing for you to gloat: not your writing skills, not your journalistic prowess, and not your reasoning skills. Bloggers and journalists are on equal grounds, and I’d like to think that neither of them are fostering an “us against them” mentality. Whatever the case, as a journalist you have nothing, and, although I know you are enormous, you should get over yourself!

Regards,

Kris a.k.a. Nightdreamer 

Quicky

Ok, I promise to make this one a very short post. After all, I’m trying to resist not blogging until I’m done reading Ulysses, but then again I don’t want to make my most recent post the one about Malu Fernandez. I know you’re tired of hearing me talk about Ulysses, so let’s put that behind us for now (before that though, I’m having a better time with it now than before).

First, books. "My God Nightdreamer don’t you have anything else to talk about other than books?" But, books are fun! Or maybe I’m just a geek. Anyway, National Bookstore is having a 20% off on all books. This is going to last until the end of the month. If you don’t have any plans for the Holy Week Vacation, consider getting a book now so that you won’t be bored by then. If you’re near Robinson’s Galleria, do visit the National Bookstore at the 3rd floor. It’s enormous, and I think its books are better than Powerbooks’s. Anyway, I just bought A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. I have a friend who scolded me when she learned that I still haven’t read that. I will  find out if everyone must read it, just like what she said. And if you also have any other books to recommend, do recommend.

As mentioned a couple of post before, I’ve been very disgusted about using the computer for the past few days. I’m still sick of it now, and I intend not to post anything new until next week. I just filed for a week of vacation, which will begin this Saturday, and end the next Sunday. I’m thrilled for some relaxation time. So, I’ll be back by then. I intend to write something about jazz, review Odyssey, A Scanner Darkly and Ulysses, and describe the few events of what is presently the last week. So, yeah, see you then!

Acerbic Wits Extraordinaire, At It Again!

She shall, proceed, and continue, to sock the mind: http://www.manilastandardtoday.com/?page=goodLife2_mar10_2008

 

The problem with blogging….

By Malu Fernandez

Just this morning I got a text telling me to check out some blog with juicy gossip about the so called “Gucci Gang” curiously enough I logged on and read all the gossip and juicy details. Whether or not the stories were true I didn’t really care to find out nor do I care to be involved. It makes no difference in my life who did what to whom it was just a leisure gossip read and I was just one of the many people who read the blog but halfway through I became quite disturbed as it made me reminiscent of the numerous blogs I was once the hot topic of.

Before I go any further I must stress the point that this is not about my previous issue, but simply the point of view of someone who has been a victim of vicious blogging and blogging as a new communication medium. To those of you who are mass/volume or dense (that’s the physics formula for density to those who are clueless) again, I repeat this is not a reaction toward my past actions.

So let me continue, first of all I believe in the freedom of speech. By all means say what you need to say. Unfortunately for most of the bloggers without advertising you get paid nothing. If in fact you do get paid then hooray for you. But blogging, aside from Perez Hilton and the other big time bloggers (you know who you are) is for me a slacker job or a medium and pastime for lonely people to connect. Unless you’re in bloody Siberia or in a Gulag prison, try stepping outside your comfort zone and turn off the laptop or pc, you just might find some real live people to talk to instead of typing away in cyber space.

On the flipside blogging can be a good source of information and a great way to exchange ideas. This I strongly encourage whether it is about politics, fashion, food or whatever topic you may choose. Friendly and healthy discussions are always great.

The difference between a journalist and a blogger is that journalists have to adhere to certain guidelines that govern the freedom of speech. And whatever a journalist chooses to write about—be it popular or unpopular—we do not hide behind an anonymous name and are resigned to the fact that we have to take as much as we dish out. However, I simply detest people who place vicious comments and slanderous statements in blogs yet sign their messages as ‘anonymous.’ If you have something to say, don’t hide behind a false name. It’s just plain cowardice of you to do so. I have more of a deep sense of respect for those—however unpopular or vicious their statements are—who post their views with their real names and make no bones about it. At least they stand for something; I would rather take it from them than the cowards that hide behind false names.

Perhaps it is the Filipino culture to foster backstabbing because they never mean what they say face to face. Just how many times have you dealt with co-workers who will smile in your face when you ask them to perform a task or engage in just plain conversation, when in fact they are quite uncomfortable with the situation and are forced to do what they absolutely detest with a smiling face. I guess it’s the kind of culture brought about by 300 years of Spanish colonization. To one particular blogger of Spanish descent but with an Indio face, don’t act like a peninsulares and quote Spanish words from the generation of your abuelita… jeez and they call me elitist. The Spanish rule is over, get over yourself and your Español relatives who used to have power… but I digress (oops, my bad…) Let’s move forward.

It’s just like all this hullabaloo about ousting GMA. You deposed ERAP in Edsa Dos. Now you’re unhappy with his replacement. Make up your minds. (For the record I’m not pro anybody I’m pro whatever lesser evil is out there). You can’t overthrow one president then decide you made a mistake with your second choice. I’s not like buying a green Hermes bag and suddenly deciding, oops I should have gotten the black one instead. Unfortunately that’s the kind of nation we have become, a bunch of wishy-washy whiners who whine about everything under the sun and found the blog sphere to be the new medium for whining. Yes we do what we have to do as a nation to get things done and stop corruption and evil (I’m all for that) but we never seem to be happy with what we have, hence the complaining and whining. It just never stops.

I suppose I started some kind of trend by eliciting nasty comments and reactions via blog because of my indiscretion. But it seems to be a comfortable medium for people to vent their anger on just about everything they disagree with. I have been called an irresponsible journalist so what does that make you? It is easy to hide under the guise of anonymity you can say just about anything you want because you have no repercussions to deal with. It’s easy to hide behind a false moniker isn’t it?

Just a thought to ponder on… Maybe I should start an anonymous blog and really let go… but then again I don’t want to be responsible for World War Three and I would sleep much better being brutally honest in your face than hide behind an anonymous name. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I started a blog just to shake things up and got a ton of money in advertising? If I do decide to do that I thank you all in advance for inspiring me… I’m always a glass half full kinda girl anyway…

Good Heavens.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is written by a journalist of The Manila Standard. Now not only do we have politicians, but also life-column journalists decreasing our standards.

As someone who has a sizable distaste of some blogging trend, I feel NO SYMPATHY to Malu Fernandez. She brags about being such a fascinating journalist, yet she sure doesn’t know the first thing about writing. The grammatical felonies she committed in that article were so shocking, it’s almost postmodern!

She ridiculously claims that us, Filipinos, are a culture of whiners. And what was she doing exactly? Not whining? Hypocrisy much? Maybe in that bubble where she lives in she actually isn’t a citizen of our country. And wow guess who’s the blogger she looks up to. Perez-freaking-Hilton! Why am I not surprised.

And by the way, that mass/volume metaphor is BRILLIANT! RAW GENIUS! So HILAR-ASS it is, that it demands explanation in case we the inferior being living outside her bubble DIDANT GIT IT!

Just to prove that I’ve got better editing skills than those unremarkable trolls from Manila Standard, I scrutinized Malu’s article and wrote some comments so she could change her draft. Click more to see how it would look like.

(more…)

This Post Hopes to be Diaphanous

Psst. I’m not supposed to be posting now. I’m trying to discipline myself not to post until I’m done reading Ulysses, also known as the book the meek fears to tread. So there, my reason of not updating. I’m 60 something pages in (out of 900, sweet mother-of-pearls!) and I’ve never felt fervid resentment of reading a book. Just read chapter 3. See if you could, without slamming your head on your desk.

Ok, did you do that - I mean, read it? I hope not, or at least I hope you didn’t think it was a good idea to jump to that chapter immediately. But yeah, I understood what it was about. First, Stephen Dedalus tore the letter he received from the previous chapter. Second, he was still mourning about his deceased mother. Third, he attempted to confront a dog that supposedly alludes to Proteus. Fourth, he wrote some poetry. Lastly, he masturbated. Somehow James Joyce felt compelled to have us read about masturbation most abstrusely, and I can’t say that felt rewarding. In fact, I felt pissy about it. Pun intended? Whatever. Seriously, James Joyce hates me. I understand why this chapter read like that - it was supposed to imitate the random and the sudden nature of our thoughts - but geez I really don’t see its point other than a show of verbal flair, what with the insertion of many different languages. Fine, as a speaker of multiple languages my train of thoughts may be like Stephen Dedalus’s, but since when did I start assuming that people would want to read the goings-on of my mind? I mean, besides the obvious reason of my being ever-so-slightly twisted?

Anyway, I can’t wait to finish this book and read something lighter. Those I read before Ulysses - those are Odyssey and A Scanner Darkly - have all been heavy and I’m starting to desire reading Archie’s. Well, after not reading a single one since I graduated from high school. Are they even sold on Natio anymore?

Apart from reading, there are many things happening to my life, most of which I can comfortably disseminate and will disseminate after dealing with Ulysses. Apparently the lure of updating my blog just to take me away from that monster was too irresistible, but today I did have a case of monitor-odium. For the past few days I’ve been staring at the monitor so much I got sick of it. Have you ever felt that way? Well, I am feeling that way, and if there’s anything I could do to skip work just so I can spend a day NOT staring at a monitor I would! Even as I’m writing this I want to rip my eyeballs out of my skull. All these flickering screens are making me sick! I dunno if this is creepy, but have you noticed that much of the modern lives revolve on a screen? There’s the TV. There’s the monitor. There’s the iPod and there’s the PSP for people who think it makes sense to watch movies on such small screen. There’s also the mobile phone. At this rate we might see a future when everyone’s t-shirt has a built-in TV. Darth Vader’s pointless chest radio and buttons will start looking normal.

Anyway, if you’ve noticed, despite my hatred for staring at another monitor I am still at this blog posting the most inane stuff yet. There’s always the choice of this and Ulysses, and sheesh if this goes on I’m never gonna finish that book. So with that said, I’m going to, drum rolls, sleep instead. But really, I need to finish that book so I can start speaking and thinking in normal tongue again. It’s perniciously scrambling my methods of communication. The last 100 pages had zero punctuation. I’m friggin not lying about that!

I stately hate Ulysses Yes.

Rekindling the Note, and a Blurb on U2

Most of you don’t know this, but I used to review music. I slated Sitti’s and Agot’s bossa album, praised Charles Mingus’s Black Saint and Harry Connick Jr’s Occasions album. Despite having such history, I’m not interested in preserving the memory here, which means I won’t be posting the reviews on this blog. Why? Because I hated my old writings. They were high-brow, and I used too much musical jargons I ended up infuriating myself. My reviews read like those Pitchforkmedia snobs - they probably have Superman’s power to resist their own chest thumpings - that I realized I’m not informing, but self-validating. Those didn’t help a nick on my blogging carreer, however moot that is. When I’ve began fiction marathons, that’s when I gave my writing proper fine-tunings (and it helped that I read Elements of Style and consider it my Bible ever since). Put it this way, Liz, J or Schumey wouldn’t put me on their blogroll had I sustained my older ways of writing. So, no, I hated reviewing music. A lot of that had to do with the elitisms going on.

But yesterday when I did ramblingvirus’s meme, I realized that I still like to talk about music. Not just that; anybody who’s been on chatrooms with me knows how I light up whenever they bring music up. Give me an album, make me hear it, and you won’t shut me up even if artists threaten me with a code of omerta. I am bold about hating Jolin Tsai, F4, Kenny G, Britney Spears, Akon, Dave Koz, Hale, Gregorian Chants and their likes.

Anyway, with this divine realization, I made up my mind of reviewing music again, but this time I’ll do it with candidness, and cut the name-dropping and technicality. No, scrap "reviewing": this will be more of discussing, like I’m having coffee shop talks with you about music.

I am into jazz, and my goal is to speak of it in ways that will inspire newcomers (not to brag, but I know a lot about jazz. I perused its history and I have more than 200 albums). I will try making that a weekly feature. Choice track will be uploaded too so you can hear it and see if it interests you (and, uh, i.ph team, what’s the storage capacity for audio? Can it be expanded?). Apart from jazz, as I am not someone who only listens to jazz and thinks everything else blows (there are rock fans who are like that, and I don’t respect such group), I will also write about other genres - like rock, hiphop, rnb, soul, funk, pop (whatever that is), folk, blues and maybe even OPM and classical. Speaking of reviews, I have tremendous respect for Francisco Silva, a Portuguese who’s offering a non-insider views on every albums listed on 1001 Album You Must Hear Before You Die, David Thorpe from Your Band Sucks of somethingawful, and The Curmudgeon of The Curmudgeon’s Fortress of Solitude.

I’m doing mental drafts of "getting into jazz based on your background", something I have for years dreamed of writing. I don’t think I need to say this, but I’m preparing heaps for that, and I don’t want to rush such work. Today, in the meantime, let’s talk about one of my all-time favorite rock albums.

The Joshua Tree by U2

I’m growing agitated with what’s happening to a lot of rock songs of late - any genre of music, for that matter. It’s as though the days when music actually talked about something substantive have passed, and nowadays artists are more concerned about bragging. They keep going about sex, sexual frustrations, supermanning dat ho or how badass or G they are. All vacant ego-massagings. I am not in any case a fan of U2 and I am detached from their recent works, but The Joshua Tree is pure love. Oh, sure, it has songs about romances too, but those are mostly done in the  innocuous way. Meanwhile, it has songs against war, songs about complex relationships, songs about loss, songs about death and songs about pessimism on modern day America. If you are keen to listening to each song’s lyrics you will find plenty of words to ruminate on. Take, for instance, "Mothers of the Disappeared":

Midnight, our sons and daughters
Were cut down, taken from us
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

In the wind we hear their laughter
In the rain we see their tears
We hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

Night hangs like a prisoner
Stretched over black and blue
Hear their heartbeat
We hear their heartbeat

In the trees our sons stand naked
Through the walls our daughters cry
See their tears in the rainfall

Being as instantly recognizable as it is, Bono’s vocals is infused with gospel and blues. He yearns, and that suits this record perfectly. With him the songs are dark, gloomy, haunting, hopeful, angry and passionate. He is notable for such wide range of moods, and no matter what the theme, he makes you believe in everything he says.

And I probably never told you this, but this song is my bliss:

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - U2

So you know how this works? Go get it.

Nightdreamer OST

This is totally ramblingvirus’s fault. He didn’t tag me but it was such an awesome meme I can’t help not stealing it, kind of like a kid in the candy shop. If anyone starts talking about music I light up, even if it’s "Original Motion Picture Soundtrack of Nipples and Potatoes". Anyway, if you think tagging games are faggotry then you can come back some other time when I will write deeper analysis of faggotry. If you pronounce meme as meh-meh (just like I do) just to mock it then you can, of course, also come back some other day. But the rest, the rest of you who want some unadulterated sexy (what the hell is unadulterated sexy?) and insightful analysis of my relationship with my ipod, read on.

The RULES:
1. Open your music library (iTunes, Media Player, iPod, Winamp etc.)
2. Put it on shuffle.
3. Press play.
4. For every question/subject, type the song that’s playing.
5. When you go to the next question, press the next button.
6. Don’t lie and pretend you’re cool.

*************
1. Opening credits: 

Oleo – Miles Davis

Oleo is, like, a spread made chiefly from vegetable oils. I don’t really know jack squat about how it fits into ANY opening scenes, unless if it’s Rachel Ray’s biopic, which would be like the most annoying movie ever.

2. Waking up:

Pele – Dizzy Gillespie

Wha, I don’t think I ever woke up believing I was that Brazilian football player! Would be awesome if I actually was him, though.

3. First Day of School:

Search for Peace – McCoy Tyner

Oh please, I know I was a bit troubled, but surely that didn’t start from my first day now, right? RIGHT? OH GOSH!

 4. Falling in love:

Do You Feel The Way I Do – Rahsaan Patterson

This makes sense. I mean, whenever I fall in love it’s the first thing I wonder.

5. First song:

Lazy Bird – John Coltrane

Oh rub it in why don’t you. 

6. Breaking up:

Mad Issues – Angie Stone

Gotta love how Angie pontificates in her chorus. “You’ve got mad issues”. Haha.

Cuz you got mad issues
And you tend to misuse
Every opportunity to right your wrong
You’re causin’ more problems
With no way to solve them
The time has come to leave well enough alone 

7. Prom:

A Very Precious Time – Gil Scott Heron

Ok, Gil, no offense meant and you’re like the shiznit, but my prom wasn’t a very precious time. It does not deserve lyrics like:

Was there a touch of spring?
Did she have a pink dress on?
And when she smiled, her shyest smile
Could you almost touch the warmth?
And was it your first love, a very precious time?

Was there the faintest breeze?
And did she have a ponytail?
And could she make you feel ten feet tall,
Walking down the grassy trail?
Was it your first love, a very precious time, time?

But thanks for asking, master.

8. Life:

Rock Wit U – Alicia Keys

Hey, you know, that’s kinda cool!

Theres no escape on the spell you have placed
Leaving my heart and my mind
Foolish am I if I was to try to ever leave you behind

9. Mental breakdown:

Smile – Tony Bennett

HUH THAT’S SICK!

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you

10. Driving:

Panic!!! – The Roots

WHA-?!

I woke up in the darkness at 12:17…to shots and sirenes
Look out the window, peep the high beams
Now they searchin, the cops lookin for the person…
That pulled the trigga
Medical figures is nursin the kid that got shot
Some innocent ak that would front
To flip the rock on them at King Street block
I tried to tell him to stop cuz yo, it’s ghetto red hot
Similar to the blood now floodin his top
I take a step out the spot, to the point of attack
And see the shorty wop heart blast out his back
Damn, I’m thinkin it don’t cease, it’s no more peace
Police level increase, but what the f-…
It’s still crime on the streets
I can’t breathe, now what’s goin on?
One minute you alive, the next, you’re gone
Illadel-P-H-I-A Hell
Bust off into the heavens for the n- who fell
And hit the L, for the n- who fell
When that could have been prevented
In front of the flat your moms rented
And no one expect that from you, cuz you was timid
F-in with them cats from outside city limits
Funny how this whole thing changed, an off minute
Yo, dig it, Panic!!!!!
None of this is ever granted
Drownin in a nightmare, stranded

And why is everything jazz or rnb or rap? I have a lot of rock tracks too, you know! At least gimme Velvet Underground! Ya hear? Velvet Underground! I don’t care if it’s Lou Reed saying he’s contemplating breast enlargement surgery, GIMME VELVET UNDERGROUND! Femme Fatale, for one, could go to number 15!

11. Flashback:

All in Love is Fair – Stevie Wonder

And what’s that trying to say, that my failings in nabbing the girlz were like just fair?!

All is fair in love
Love’s a crazy game
Two people vow to stay
In love as one they say
But all is changed with time
The future no one can see
The road you leave behind
Ahead lies mystery
But all is fair in love
I had to go away
A writer takes his pen
To write the words again
That all in love is fair 

12. Getting back together:

No – De La Soul

Haha how concise. Still, VELVET UNDERGROUND! Fine, JIMI HENDRIX!

13. Wedding:

Now/ At The Party – Maxwell

Now I know
Now I found
Now I feel just like this
So united
Now I feel somethin’ special
(ohh, mmm)
I can’t even describe it to ya 

Nothing better than a scene of the entire church getting groovy. Hey why not. Ask my bride to cartwheel instead of stroll the wedding aisle!

14.Birth of a child:

Young At Heart – Brad Mehldau

The birth of a child will, of course, make me so happy I feel young again, even if it’s supposed to remind me that I’m about to have a more elderly responsibility.

15. Final battle:

Straight Life – Freddie Hubbard

I was hoping to get Femme Fatale by Velvet Underground. Bummer. And straight life? But what a long final battle that would be then. It would last 17 minutes.

16. Death scene:

Computer Blue – Prince and The Revolution

GOODNESS I HOPE NOT! It says:

Where is my love life?
Where can it be?
There must be something wrong with the machinery

Where is my love life?
Tell me, where has it gone?
Somebody please please tell me what the hell is wrong”

What on earth is my iPod doing, mocking me?!

17. Funeral song:

Minor Swing – Stephane Grappelli

That’s really stupid. Who swings on funeral anyway?

18. End credits:

Dream a Little Dream of Me – Louis Armstrong

Oh, how apt.

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper I love you
Birds singing in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me, yes.

I actually fast forwarded to another song and got “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by U2” Thank goodness it didn’t become the end credit. I love that song though.

Still, I’m bummed that Night Dreamer by Wayne Shorter didn’t show up.

And go steal this already, sheesh, must I mention who you are before you go play this tag game? I’m tagging liz though because I know she hates tag game. I’ll be damned if she can resist this. If she does, I’m going to write a new book called Liz Shrugged.

A Swarmer Dissedly

(This post is full of Tagalogs. Apologies to those who don’t speak that language. )

My good friend Jen started the idea of blogswarming. Well, I joined, but even though I did a photoshop and a pseudo-editorial artwork to express my disdain for GMA, I wasn’t too crazed about the idea of blogswarming. In fact I can say I’m skeptic.

I didn’t expect the idea would take off either, but now in just two weeks, Jen’s a superstar. Political bloggers from Pinoy’s blogging scene (lalalala J, did you raise eyebrows?) started to show support to Jen. An Inquirer article was published for Jen. MBW was spellbounded to Jen. My photoshopped work had been taken without my permission and without the mention of my moniker.

And along came the ill consequences. You know how it is with blogging, right? As long as someone posts something polemic, dissidents will come. Some dissidents have well-presented counter-arguments, but most others give you this feeling that they’re paid trolls/propagandists writing as commentators under anonymous guises. These trolls bully other’s blog by posting ad hominem repartees. Sometimes you really have to wonder about these zombies, about how they think. Their dumbness seriously rattle my brain so much that in my exposure to them, my outlook for human civilization dims further.

There’s one that’s been making decent blog-swarmers head bang tables. You might want to read how OUR "debate" went.

Click on more. I hate doing these "more" come-hithers, but this is too unstructured it looks ugly on my blog’s main page. And, uh, the tag is purely meant for parody.
(more…)

A Spark of Intellect

For the past two weeks I’ve made my rounds on Pinoy political blogs. I must have read about Lozada from all angles and I now know he’s from UST - not that I’m frenzied about knowing the personal lives of political people. 

I don’t like how that felt. The problem with political blogs is when I’ve promenaded 10 of them, I become unsure of what I read. The writings are so banal, they blur. It’s even worse when I read their comment box exchanges. Don’t get me wrong, as there are many political bloggers that I revere. It’s just that it can get tiresome reading the same predictable, boring, commonplace anti-or-pro-system vitriol from everyone. It’s all mob echoes, without unique voice. Or maybe I am the problem, since I’d read creative analysis of imagined works over banal musings of mundane realities any time. 

You’d probably guess that I guzzle original ideas. That’s close. The better description is I want what makes me think instead of what merely make feel like a fence sitter, passively watching these bickering and Miriam’s afro hairdo. Too many say “GLORIA RESIGN” or “GLORIA STAYS” or “NOLI SUCKS” and I’m just surprised that all camps aren’t analytical enough of why they believe those. If they do think, they say the same old triteness (and I don’t blame them because I would probably be hackneyed too were I to write about politics). I don’t feel inspired in joining the fray. Am I being vague? Maybe.

I’ve found the panacea to these banalities. Caffeine Sparks. 

Looking at that avatar always remind me of this awesome rap song. The egyptian beats, the dope lyrics ("It’s more than just music it’s electric sex!"), they just feel so right describing this pic. (and uh,this is underground rap, so don’t gimme this "but this ain’t popular southern rap/50 cents stuff!". They’re crap, period.)

Zeph & Azeem - 10 Steps Ahead

If writing is coffee, sparks is the Blue Mountain. If writing is Stevie Wonder, sparks is the Songs in the Key of Life. If writing is jazz, sparks is John Coltrane. If writing is guitar, Spark’s is Hendrix’s. If writing is an album cover art, then Spark’s is the super-rare Andy Warhol’s Velvet Underground LP. If…

Ah, screw metaphors! No other political blogs are as consistent in bringing to me stuffs that I’m not already aware of. Sparks is peerless in presenting issues in ways that make me think. Just read what she says about being apolitical, or her defense of the public. Reading her words seriously pimp-slapped my past beliefs’s ass, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s possible for human to have such expertise on that many subjects. Every time I see the comment boxes that shouldn’t have been empty, I also wonder if the average human beings have only a limited capacity of understanding such omniscience (err, I’m not saying I’m smart. Read this and this.). In other words, Sparks must be an epiphany. 

But no, wait, I only talked about spark’s political or societal musings. How about her personal posts then? Listen to her canorous podcasts. Delight at how all these beautiful words come so effortlessly. And did I just say canorous? I think I have a crush on her voice. I mean, how pathetic is that, someone having crushes on voices? Though, I’m willing to bet that she’s beautiful – is it even possible for ugly people to achieve such perfection of intellect? (Please don’t chew my ass on this. I’m just kidding!) 

If sparks ever decide to write a book, she can pull out my silly words as blurbs.  

It’s why I like blogs. Every time I feel that I won’t add new blogs to my links, I find or rediscover one that fountains everything else out. I felt such way too when I read fencesitter’s work, but for a very different reason. Other moments of overflowing cryogen can be seen on Schumey’s slating CBCP, J’s defending horniness, virus’s theory of men being swines, Brad’s reservations about tipping, liz’s forthcoming hatred of The Secret, and Salamander’s on Writers with Attitudez. It’s the extreme opposite of music - everytime you’re ready to say music can’t suck even worse out come another reality tv singer digging for a new low. 

Props to you, dope bloggers. And now it’s time for me to read Ulysses.

I’m Still Alive! Comment Allez Vous?

The report of this blog’s death has been exaggerated.

There are reasons why I haven’t been posting, and this time they aren’t comprised of "I was bored" and "I was sick" and "I had this block" and "I got laid". All right, I know this is a awful way to start my post, but I’m not yet in the writing frame of mind, because today is unusual. Today, I’ve spent two hours getting reacquainted with the internet; I think I have forgotten how to use it. And why? Our district’s phone lines have been tapped, and we’ve been living four days with dysfunctional phone lines, and that also means we have been living without internet connections, since we connect to the internet by the DSL. PLDT’s not doing anything to expedite their repair job. I hate PLDT. They should call themselves "Philippines Long Delay Telephone Company" instead.

That covers the why I haven’t been posting. As to how I’ve been doing: for once, my life doesn’t suck (omg?). It’s more of vacillating, meaning it has its ups and downs. Beginning with the blue note, one of my female officemates resigned last friday, something I was pretty bummed at. Out of 6 girls who work in the same office as I, she was the only one I show that iota of emotion resembling "care". The rests bore me - yeah, maybe 2 of them aren’t that dull, but they don’t share as many similar interests as the girl-who-left with me. As for the remaining 3? They’re the most gelid and vapid mouth breathers conceived, and they talk about the most commonplace fads and listen to the most obnoxious R&B music, and that’s when they’re not talking about bikinis as though their wearing them would incite the jizzing from puberty-struck passers-by. Collective puking is the likelier reaction. Anyway, now that the office is without this girl-who-left, I feel more languid here than before.

Compared to 1 pining and 1 sorry plight, my life’s upsides may seem a tad trifling, but to me it’s being content with the little things that defines a person’s happiness, and I can’t believe that for once I sounded like a self-help book. So, I ate Halo Halo last thursday and that alone was enough to put a stupid grin on my face. It so happened that I also treated a girl the same kind of Halo Halo, and nothing delights me more than sparkly conversations over scrumptious desserts. We conversed for one hour, though it was mostly her who was doing the talking. She was fun, and it’s good for me to be in touch with people again after being a recluse for, like, 50 years?

And as you can see, this blog has a new look. I drew a new header. It’s Chang E, an important figure of Chinese folklores and poems. I like the result of this drawing, which look like this (click the pic to enlarge):

[the first draft?]

[the modified version, because one of my female friends complained that this girl’s breasts are too small? Haha! That’s just one of the weirdest thing I’ve heard. Women are now complaining that their breasts are depicted too small?] 

… but when I used the colored version as the header I felt that it has too much empty spaces. So I changed the header image to the "sketched lines" version of the artwork, which is actually just a photoshop filter of the original artwork. I am still working on making the colored version more embellished, and I am still fiddling with the blog’s settings. I relished from drawing her that I now have a renewed interest in drawing, and I intend to train hard on drawing when I have the free time.

[And this is to i.ph team, but is there a way for me to change the CSS settings of my blog?]

Lastly, I’m done reading Odyssey. I liked it, but that’s mostly because I read the verse translation of it, which  surpasses its prose translation. Otherwise, Odyssey is just a standard tale of heroism (with a few suspect outdated beliefs), but the versing makes it beautifully told.

Next up on my reading list: Ulysses. Gulp.

And that about wraps my post for today. Comment Allez Vous? It means "How are you", and I’m directing that question to you.