A Sad Christmas Memory

The last time and the only time I can recall that my grandfather went to Philippines was more than 15 years ago. Although he never particularly said something to this effect, he did seem to like it here very much. Every day I would see him reading one Buddhist book with a sunset as the cover art. It was in Japanese, as Taiwaneses who grew up in the Depression era were all very fluent with Nihonggo. My gramps and I would also play card games, even if I knew I was just being boring to him most of the time. Sometimes, when we’re so bored, we would go outside and mingle with Filipinos. There were obviously great language barriers between my gramps and those Filipinos - my gramps did not speak Tagalog - but they did have fun even if it was mostly a result from watching each other’s culture with curiosity.

The most memorable day of those times was when my gramps and I celebrated our birthdays together. It was the only time I ever ate ice cream cake.

Now, come the season when ices, or snows, are the common sight in the less tropical part of the world, my grandpa passed away. It was on December 24, 2008. I am not the kind of person who minces word about mortality; I know life ends. I know there is no such thing as being with the person I love for eternity. I was also already prepared to hear this news, perhaps more than when I heard my mother side’s grandpa passed away, and when I heard my father’s side grandma - hence, this one’s wife - passed away. Still, it’s been really hard for me. There’s nothing that makes me more depressed than to think that my dad does not have any living parents anymore, and it always break my heart to see him sad.

I can only wish that my gramps will rest in peace, and have a great afterlife. I’m going back to Taiwan to pay him posthumous respect next January.

Merry Christmas

I give you a Jack Frost: 

Times are Merry!

Yeah, I’m noticing that I’ve been neglecting this blog for nearly a week.

I’m on a vacation since this Friday, and this vacation is a long one, going all the way to the 5th of January, 2009. I’m pretty much having a great time, clocking a lot of hours in Persona 4, 60 to be exact. It’s a really great game, and you must play it if you own a PS2. ‘Nuff said.

I’ve also gotten a copy of Mirror’s Edge for the X360. It got so much media coverage way before it was released, only to have a lukewarm reception afterwards. I heard some negative feedbacks about it, so I thought I wouldn’t like it. After having played it for 4 hours, though, I must say I’m quite surprised by how much I like it. If you want to know how it plays, think Tomb Raider, but with more running, and more notably, using the first person view. The game is based on the concepts of parkour, which makes it really exciting, because there’s nothing quite like leaping between buildings in high speed. It’s like I’m playing the part of The Matrix where I’m trying to get away from all the agents. 

Yesterday was the second time I’ve been to Fullybooked, Fort Bonifacio branch. The last time I went there was on the free comic book day, which took place some time in August/June - I don’t remember when precisely. Back then I thought that it was huge but didn’t had a very good collection of books, and it certainly did not help its case that I could not find a copy of The Great Gatsby there. I had a change of mind when I went the second time. Why? Because I found Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S Thompson, and The Leopard by Giuseppe di Lampedusa. The bookstore just elevated itself to amazing because of having those two. Yes, I’m biased!

Anyway, I’m gonna resume doing all the fun stuff for now. See you soon! 

10 Random Facts about Myself, All Related to My Experiences with Books

I’ve been in the mood to talk about books these days, yet at the same time, today is not one day when I feel like doing the most laborious writing - whatever that means. Which is why I’m going to throw around 10 random facts about my experiences with books (like what I did with videogames; and I just noticed today that I got the number in the title completely wrong - sheesh, what’s up with that?!) 

No, nobody has tagged me this time. I merely thought that writing in this format allows me to be most candid.

1. As of writing this, the last book I’ve finished is Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre.

2. I added the iRead application on my Facebook account, and right there you can view the books that I declared as my personal favorites. On top of the head, though, the books that I love are the following: Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Fight Club by Chuck Pahlaniuk, Native Son by Richard Wright, Battle Royale by Koushun Takumi, In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald, and Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. There are a lot more, but I don’t want to make this post novella-length.

3. I also read a lot of comic books, both the superhero and the non-superhero ones, and both American and Japanese ones (or manga, as the latter is called).

4. I’ve only become a voracious reader in the year 2007. Believe me, it took a while for me to make reading one of my hobbies, but once I got into it, I never looked back. I’ve read comics and mangas all my life, though.

5. I’m not very picky with genres, but I do have a soft spot for science fictions.

6. You want to know what my first comic book is? Well, Archie, of course. And my first manga? It’s Doraemon.

7. My favorite children’s books are the three books from Jonathan Stroud’s Bartimaeus Trilogy. I also really like the 3rd and the 4th Harry Potter book.

8. So this might incense some, but here are my 3 least favorite books: Bait by Karen Robards, Digital Fortress by Dan Brown, and The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. I do not dislike the last one as much as the other two, but yes, I don’t like it.

9. I’m of the belief that Neil Gaiman writes comics better than he writes novels.

10. Just for the record, I don’t think that just because someone reads a lot it automatically makes him/her more productive than someone who plays a lot of videogames or watches a lot of TV. The thing is, however, that having the right choice of books will let a person understand the world more than s/he could through other medium.

Vernon God Little

Finished DBC Pierre’s Vernon God Little yesterday. If you want to know what it felt like to read it, imagine being a guidance counselor, and you’re forced to listen to a teenager ranting on and on about how lousy his life is. Whether or not you’ll ultimately get to the bottom of his problems depends on if you can treat a bellicose teenager with patience and equanimity.

Set in a small town of Texas, this book tells the story of an innocent teenager named Vernon Gregory Little. He is framed for a massacre in his school, including the murder of his best friend. Everybody in his neighborhood, including his mom, doubts his innocence, and it doesn’t help that there’s an attention-hungry guy wandering nearby, bent on wringing the most publicity in the light of the tragedy.

The synopsis is the first thing that sold me to the book; I’ve heard that it is inspired by the Columbine High School massacre, a topic that I was interested with when I bought it (and I don’t think my penchant for criminal psychology stuff has gone away much; I want to understand why people commit atrocious deeds, because I want to know what can be done to prevent them from happening). The second thing that has drawn me to buying it is the Man Booker Prize distinction printed so conspicuously on the cover. I know that awards shouldn’t tint my opinion of a book, but I can’t deny that they often lead me to assume that their winners can’t be bad.

When you’ve read both Vernon God Little and JD Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, you’ll invariably compare the two. So let me clear this up to let you know where I’m coming from: I love Catcher in the Rye. I rank it high in my list of all-time favorites; Vernon God Little, not so much. Both of them are narrated by angry teenagers, yet somehow Holden Caulfield ended up a lot more likable than Vernon Gregory Little. I’m not sure why I felt that way, but it may be because Holden’s problems felt closer to home than Vernon’s. Vernon is pissed because he’s surrounded by people who are sunk so deeply in crass commercial fast-food cultures they read more like caricatures of people so stupidly disengaged from the world (you’ll be a Boddhisatva if you can stand them). On the other hand, Holden hates because of, well, nothing much besides his cynicism. Which of the two is more interesting? I think Holden.

The greater problem with Vernon God Little is the language. I can stand some f-bombing, but this one does it in overkill it sucks the oxygen out of the reader. Later part gets rid of the cussing, which make it more pleasing to read, which then compels me to ask this: why all the profanity when they add nothing to the story?

The story is the one good thing I can point out, though. The first hundred pages are boring because I’m reading about Vernon’s ignorant neighbors that I could not care an iota about, but things pick up when the truth of the massacre gradually comes to light. I can even admit that on those parts I could not put the book down. True, the novel is clunky because of all the f-bombing, but at least you can be rest assured that underneath is a plot with great twists. It can be made a movie that is similar in tone to 8-Mile (the Eminem movie), and it will work very well. Or 90% of it will, at least. The remaining 10% is the unsatisfying beginning and ending. Yes, ending. I found it too easy. I would’ve preferred for it to end another way because it could’ve been offered chilling social commentaries. As it is, though, the story wraps up like most Hollywood films, killing its potential to resonate.

So, slow beginning, lame ending, and a very gripping in-between. If you can be cool with that, then you might like Vernon God Little more than I did.

Lights!

We people are truly bizarre, blowing fortunes on these funny things called fireworks. On a day we deem special, we shoot scattershot lights to the sky, and that’s it, all the money for a few seconds of fancy displays.

But, hey, those displays sure are beautiful. Have you ever watched the fireworks show from below Taipei 101? I have once, on January 1, 2005. They look like this (note: video not mine):

Wouldn’t it be grand if something like that happens today?

Waiting for Midnight

…coz it’s gonna be special.

Just being lazy today, so here’s a music video from one of my favorite rappers, Common:

Resurrection? Sounds like something I should inspire!

Gifts I’ve Been Given

This December is shaping up to be quite a good one for me.

For one, I got these gifts last Friday:

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz

Inkheart by Cornelia Funke.

And a bunch of bags from a beach resort with a name I can’t remember.

I had both books on my wishlist for the company party that took place last Friday. I wanted Oscar Wao because one of my friends told me that it’s about a Dungeon and Dragons fanatic who wants to write a Fantasy novel. Given that geeks are usually subject to very unflattering comments by the public, I’m curious about how this book got the Pulitzer Prize. So I’m going to start reading that once I’m finished with the book I’m progressing with now (one that, despite being a winner of the Booker Prize, I’m not liking very much.).

I wanted Inkheart because I heard of it regarded as “The Harry Potter of Germany”. Because I’m weary of the overly literary stuff, I want something for children for a change.  Inkheart is about a bunch of magical creatures that can leap straight off of the eponymous book when said book is read. As an aside, the author and I have the same birthday (of course I’m from a different year; younger, to be exact). Go figure when.

Speaking of children’s book, I hope you have checked out the brilliant Bartimaeus Trilogy by now.

Persona 4

Guys, dust off your PlayStation 2’s. Tomorrow, Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 4 is coming to town!

Forget your PSP and Xbox 360! All you need is a PS2 and a Persona 4 to tide you over in the entire holiday season. Who says PS2 is dead?

Persona 4 (P4 henceforth) is the spiritual successor of Persona 3 (P3) in more than just the namesake. If you don’t know what that means, I’ll draw the Final Fantasy games for analogy. Persona 2 and 3 have nothing much in common the same way as Final Fantasy V and VI are radically different games. P4, on the other hand, is to P3 what Final Fantasy VII is to VI (though I may say P4 > P3, while FFVII < FFVI); sure, the sequels have stories, characters and settings different to their prior games, but they play alike.

In most cases, I don’t like it when sequels of a game are not much different to their forerunners. P4 is an exception to me because P3 is a darn good game anyway, and I’ve never tire of it - even if it took me 90+ hours to finish P3 I clamored for more. If you’ve missed the P3 boat though, fret not, because you’re every bit as eligible to like P4 as those who are already veteran players of the series.

P4 draws itself apart from other role-playing games by being role-playing to the core. That may sound like juju-PR talk to some, but believe me, P4 (and P3) immerses you in ways that can only be wishful thinking for other games: what else lets you play a high school student who actually has to study, take exams, join clubs, befriend classmates and teachers, all while saving the world? And if you’re thinking, “Well gosh, that’s a lot of stuff. I bet it gets really crazy!” trust me, it does. Saving the world also gets frighteningly hard because the in-game battles will wipe you out if you just sit back and mash a button thinking the game will play itself this way. Without strategizing, and especially without exposing your opponents’ weaknesses, you won’t go far.

So go get Persona 4. It’s fun, challenging, and it tells a gripping tale too. Watch the opening video and gawk at the art style.

 EDIT: Okay, there was a mistake. I posted Persona 3: FES’s opening video. You can see that too if you like, because it also has a great art style. Here’s the real stuff:

And now here are some spoiler-free bullet points of stuff P4 improves from P3:

• Befriending people feels less of a chore now because your skills also increase while your relationships become stronger.
• Also, there are times when someone else will tag along with the person you’re hanging out with, making the interactions livelier.
•  The spells of the Shin Megami Tensei games always have names that nobody can memorize. They’re not called by simple names like “fire” or “ice”; they’re called “agi” or “bufu”. P4 is the first game of the series where, even when battling, you can read the spells’ description to know what they do. I’m really really really really really really really really glad that this game finally allows that. I don’t know why it took so long for the game’s developers to realize that it’s so hard to remember the spells - who the hell knows what Rakakuja does?
• Unlike P3, where you only have direct control of the main character, in P4 you have direct control of every member of your party.
• There are now five skills to develop: Understanding, Knowledge, Courage, Diligence, and Expression. Yikes!

Unreal

I’ve been meaning to write about certain things today, but right now I’m very sleepy, and I have to attend a Christmas party few hours later - it’s mandatory for me, so, what can I do?

The Christmas party I’m going to later is by the company where I work in, and everyone has to give gifts, each to a person chosen by drawing lots. We’ve written on a whiteboard our wishlists, and because of what the person I have chosen wants, I went to buy Guns N’ Roses’s much-delayed, 17-years-in-production, and banned-in-China Chinese Democracy. Gee, it must’ve been quite an agony for that person to wait 17 years to get that album. If he’s had it in his wish list for that long, I feel terribly sorry for him.

It’s incredible enough for the album to ever get released, making one of the funniest pop-culture slangs obsolete, so that I can no longer refer to anything postponed indefinitely as “the Chinese Democracy of [something]” (e.g. Duke Nukem Forever is the Chinese Democracy of videogames; Dr Dre’s Detox is the Chinese Democracy for Hiphop albums; getting a good president is the Chinese Democracy of…). Now I hold the CD in my hands while my head is reeling with disbelief; if you tell me two years ago that I’d ever get it, I’d laugh so hard security might send me out of the building. It’s just so unreal.

For the record, I’m not a Guns N’ Roses fan, but I like some of their songs, especially Sweet Child O’ Mine. Perhaps I’ll eventually give their new album a couple of listens, and decide if it has been worth the wait and the multiple changes of band members and the Axl Rose vs. Slash Snakepit drama.

The Days When the World Was Young

Alice in Wonderland (take 2) (Bill Evans Trio)

I live inside a condominium, and this means that every day I see people who are not my immediate kin. A week ago, I wrote about my neighbor; put simply, I don’t like him. I avoid taking the same elevator with him because I don’t like seeing his moue.

I know he is not the only person I avoid: I shun from many people anyway, and if you see me at a party - in the rare moment when I’m at a party - I don’t go around saying hi to everyone. I’m aloof. I don’t enjoy being combative, I merely have hard time connecting with people. Even if I’ve lived in the same condominium for more than ten years, there’s no one from the same building who I regard as a close friend. So, in a way, I don’t always blame my neighbor for being snobby to me. Sometimes I blame Dubya.

I will never forget one girl, though. Let’s call her Ella. I first met Ella more than fifteen years ago, when Super Mario World was just made. She lived on the sixth floor, which is below me, and her mom and my mom were instantly friends the day we moved in our condo. Because her mom was a dermatologist and allowed “consultations” (I don’t know if that is how they call it when someone goes to a dermatologist to have check-ups; I’m dummy about skin care lingo) she was often visited by my mom. One day my mom took me along, maybe so that she wasn’t alone, or maybe because my dad ordered me to accompany her, I don’t know. My mom told me to wait because it takes a while for dermatologists to finish whatever it is they do. So I waited on Ella’s room.

For the longest time I stared around not knowing what to do. After many minutes of awkward silences, Ella noticed that I was the shyest visitor she has had, so she brought out some toys and we ended up playing Uno card games - the only time I ever played Uno card games.

Some days later Ella came to my place, and coincidentally, it was the day my mom brought home two dozens of these transparent cubes with beads inside that you shake and rotate around to solve puzzles. Ella loved playing with those cubes, often going to my place just to play with them. Often we’d go to each other’s places to play with our sundry of toys; sometimes we’d borrow each other’s NES cartridges. Though we didn’t speak with each other much, we became playmates: after all, we were kids who didn’t give much weight to intellectual conversations and we were all about frolicking. We were very fond of each other that my siblings would often tease us as childhood sweethearts, and I often got angry because of them, perhaps because I was denying that I really liked her.

And then one day, less than a year since we first met, she moved out. Her mom said she went to Singapore to study there, but soon her mom also left, and, last I heard, it was because of divorce. I lost touch with her family since then.

It has been more than 15 years since I last met Ella. Ella’s not her real name. I don’t even know her real name, and she doesn’t know mine either. Lately, I often wonder about what she’s up to, perhaps because deep inside I’ve never gotten over her leaving. Will we see each other again one day, as people who cannot recognize each other from the happy times they’ve shared as children?

Life is strange. The fonder you are of someone, the sooner the moment you are together passes.

Illuminating Everything

Okay, 7 days have gone by without new blog posts. I’ve been busy. Moving on…

I finished Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything is Illuminated two days ago, and I had a more unequivocally positive opinion of it in the entire time that I was reading it than I was with Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. There are minor details - the ending, for one - that keep me from claiming it as a flawless novel, but on the whole, I love it. (Also, isn’t the cover pretty? Yes, yes it is!)

If I were to describe the book with just one word, it’s this: fresh. There’s nothing new with Jews writing memoirs of Holocaust survivors, even if oftentimes these memoirs become brilliant-yet-harrowing studies of the human condition. Everything is Illuminated, however, uses quite unusual ways of writing that if you can call it hackneyed, you might as well call Alaska a desert.

The book jumps back and forth between two stories. The first one is the history of Trachimbrod, which is a Jewish village (or what they refer to as shtetl) somewhere in Ukraine. Because this part involves the saga of a family (in fact, the ancestors of the author) and is also told in a surrealist style, it is very reminiscent of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude. The other story takes place in the present, and is about the author’s going forth to Ukraine in search of a woman who saved his grandfather from Nazis. The author does not speak Ukraine, so he had a Ukrainian translator named Sasha tag along in the journey.

I like the latter part better because it is narrated by Sasha. He speaks weird English, and he often uses words in improper contexts. He’s so oblivious to how silly he sounds that anyone who speaks intermediate-level English will chuckle, at least, at his idioms. Yet, unlike some “satires” that I’ve read, the humor never gets in the way from the heart of the story, which I won’t talk about because it’s something you should find out on your own.

I recommend Everything is Illuminated. There’s a movie adaptation of the novel too, and I’m going to track down the DVD and see if it’s good enough.