A Goodbye to Bumhood (Prelude)

Bruno Mars' The Lazy Song has been my 

anthem for a few months now.

But soon, I'll be singing a different tune.

The four-day "long weekend" is about to end for most people. It’s a shame that the metro is still feeling the aftermath of typhoon Mina and most people we’re not able to go out and really enjoy their vacation. I bet people’s plans got screwed up and some out-of-town trips got cancelled because of this. Pity. Well, it’s not like I have such plans. I usually spend my rainy days cuddling under my covers and being online all day. I find it rather amazing that I can spend all day long being online and not get bored. Aside from being logged on to Facebook, there is an abundance of websites I usually frequent: forums, emails, online newspapers, photo websites and of course Youtube to name a few. This is why I find it odd when people say that they easily get bored with the internet. There are literally millions of websites that you can visit and equally a millions of things you can learn from them. For instance, just a few minutes ago I learned that GPOY stands for Gratuitous Photos of Yourself. It’s the term people use to describe the photos they take of themselves while camwhoring. So in that sense, camwhores can also be called Gratuitous Self Phototakers. Amazing isn’t it? I love how I learn new things everyday when I'm online. The net is such a wonderful place. I wonder how I’ll be able to survive a week without it...Shudders.

Anyway, I guess being an everyday online bum is a luxury I won’t be able to afford anytime soon. My seven-month "long weekend" is about to come to an end.

5th International Silent Film Festival: Nosferatu

Last August 26, my friends and I decided to catch the screening of the 1922 German silent film Nosferatu at the Shangri-La Cineplex as part of the 5^th International Silent Film Festival. The celebration was partly sponsored by the Goethe-Institut Philippinen along with other foreign and local organizations such as Instituto Cervantes, Japan Foundation, the Italian Embassy, Embassy of Greece, National Commission for Culture and the Arts of the Philippines and the Society of Filipino Archivists for Film. Aside from the said German entry, it also featured silent films from the Philippines (Brides of Sulu), Japan (The Dawning Sky), Italy (L’Inferno), Spain (Pilar Guerra) and Greece (The Greek Miracle). Each film was accompanied by a specific musical group for the corresponding musical score.  For Nosferatu, it featured German pianist and composer Stephan von Bothmer together with the FEU Chorale.

Learning my lesson well from the French Film Festival a few months back, I decided to inquire early about the tickets. Good thing I was able to get in touch with the institute through email and score 10 tickets for me and my friends along with their plus ones.  I have never watched a silent film in my entire life and I have always been curious as to how they were able to work their way through the audience without the convenience of dialogues. And the screening was free, so what have I got to lose?

English Is Not The (Only) Language of the Learned

Don't English Me, I'm Panic!!!
image courtesy of  spwakattakk.tumblr.com

Another name is slowly making its way to social networking and internet fame. Only this time, the act isn’t caught on national TV and fingers weren’t pointed on who’s to blame for such unfortunate grievance. But the offense is all just the same. It shows how a person puts his stature above others. Well, I guess the past floating car incident wasn’t enough for us.

Two days ago, James Soriano published an essay on the Manila Bulletin website tackling his fondness of being brought up in an English-speaking environment. Since the article was already taken down shortly after it was published, one can only read quotes of the original article from different sources. Why Manila Bulletin decided to publish such an article is beyond me. And why it was taken down a day after, is even more baffling. They should have not removed it from the site. After all, it is their responsibility to be open to all sides of the story in the name of unbiased journalism, no matter how elitist and arrogant-sounding as they may be. At the very least, the article did spark an interesting discussion among netizens. But MB’s lack of journalistic ethics is not the subject of my sentiments today.***

The Gay Address

Ladies and gentlemen, today I stand before you as an average gay man.

I have no intentions of saying that I am a proud gay man. Because truth be told, I am not proud at all. And why should I? Pride, when not practiced carefully, is a dangerous thing. It is both a vice and a virtue. Being proud means you think your stature is above others in some way, and honestly I don't think of myself as having such. The good side of pride on the other hand, lets you greatly relish the things you have done in your life. Still, I cannot be proud for something that I have no control of. We can be proud of our achievements and our accomplishments since we have worked painstakingly hard for them. Be proud of an award. Be proud of your work. But being gay is not something you extraordinarily accomplish. It is not something you aspire to. You don’t work hard to be gay. It just happens naturally. So I am not going to say I am proud, rather I embrace my being gay because it is part of who I am.

De Lata Party and Laptop Weekend

As I’m writing this, I’m fighting the urge to take off my clothes, turn off the lights and snuggle under my covers. Dear sleep, please stay the hell away from me. I haven’t done any writing over the past weekend and I’ve been trying my best to keep my end of the bargain. I’ve already broken my promise of writing here everyday. Well, I figured that people get a day off or two from work and so should I from writing. I already skipped almost six days worth of writing but I’m doing my best. I’m bad at commitments, I know that. So sleep, please come back after an hour.

Let me just say that to describe the weekend I had as fun would be an understatement.

My Unremarkable (?) Day

Today is one of those unremarkable, lazy days that you easily forget as soon as you wake up the next morning. It is uneventful. It's forgettable. Most of my time these days are spent like that.

Tatay Manuel

A Youngblood article from The Philippine Daily Inquirer really struck a chord, and an emotional one if I may say so.

It tells the story of Tatay Manuel, a farmer-forcibly-turned-fisherfolk from Hagonoy, Bulacan. The article was written by the author retelling his student days when he was still immersed in community service where he met him. It tells a tale of struggle that gets pushed down from mountains of tabloid headlines of corruption and Manny Pacquiao that it becomes virtually unheard of. Tatay Manuel was a farmer but money-hungry capitalists took over his farmland and made it into commercial fishponds. This forced him to work as the attendant of these ponds under measly working conditions. When social workers informed him about his rights as an employee, Tatay Manuel sought out equal and fair treatment from his employers. Sadly, he was among the first one to be laid off because of this uprising. Struck with poverty, he was forced to leave his children to a relative for them to be fed properly and this made his children hate him, being mistaken as a bad father who selfishly left his kids. Shortly after the author left the community to get back to his studies, he found out that Tatay Manuel was abducted along with 2 UP activists and was later burned to death. I apologize to the author for retelling Tatay Manuel’s story in a poorly-written summary so I commend him for writing such a wonderfully-moving piece. Certainly one of the few Young blood articles I’ve enjoyed reading so far since it has become the haven of shallow personal rants and romantic diary stories that are better left to be read in blog sites like these, not in a newspaper.

It was really a touching story. I remember when I was still in college and the stories I heard from my tibak (activist) friend Em. To rest ourselves from pharmaceutical calculations and molecular bonds, we would often talk about something like this as a breather. Tatay Manuel’s story is what compels activists like her to go to far-flung areas (they call it pamumundok) and help people with their struggles. When you really listen to what these Rambo-wearing, sweaty protesters have to say, you would understand the stories behind their chants and their big placards. That they’re not just out there and sticking it to the man. That they're not just not Communist naysayers of the government shouting nonsense. Struggles and inequities do exist in places our government chooses to ignore. And there are hundreds of suffering and silenced Tatay Manuels out there with the same story of oppression.

Tampo

Recently, a number of my close friends are wondering if I’m angry at them or if I harbour a sort of tampo. Seeing as how far we live from each other and how busy their schedules are, we maintain a Facebook group where we normally interact everyday. I usually comment to each and every post that they have there. Be it an interesting newspaper article that we read, a Kpop video that we unnecessarily critique or just some random gossip that we pick out from anywhere. And I also flood our group with my equal share of nonsense. But since Tuesday last week, I haven’t replied to any of their posts or comments. Since naturally they’re my friends, I reply to them when they post on my wall, yet I don’t comment on their statuses or on our Facebook group, even if they tag me. And since there are only 6 of us there and most of them are busy with work, it looks like the group was suddenly alienated.

Tampo, as defined by trusty wikipedia

Are We Destined To Be Alone?

Is my kind destined to be alone?

The Million Dollar Question

A forum question in PG4M posted this a few days back.  Having been recently singled (again) this got me thinking about the future. Should I have any reason to panic?

I don’t think so.

OMG! WTF! She's In a Bikini?!!!

A friend of mine posted this picture on his Facebook account today. The link is from a site called Hay!Men!Ang mga blog ng mga tunay na lalake.

The picture above shows an obviously old, blonde-haired Madame Auring dressed in a revealing leopard print one-piece bikini. To those of you who might have forgotten who she is, she was a favourite guest panellist among past talk shows when it comes to reading fortunes and tarot cards and foretelling New Year predictions. She also had an ill-fated love affair that was the subject of tabloid controversy. But just as others who have had their fifteen minutes of fame, she quickly faded into the background along with other has beens.

Now the picture at first glance, I must admit is quite shocking. Not too often do we see an old lady (God knows how old Madame Auring is) in a skin-tight swimwear showing her curves. It’s not something that we normally consider “pleasant” and it doesn’t follow our own brand of social norms, per se. I get that. I too had to fight the urge to cringe away from my monitor when I saw this. But what infuriated me is the way the link was presented not just in Facebook but also on the blog site that hosted it. Now, I don’t want to personally attack my classmate who posted this by calling him out on this and call him names. It wouldn’t solve things and that classmate of mine is a fairly nice guy. But I can’t help but wonder as to what the intention is in showing a link like this on Facebook and on that blog. Clearly, the point of the picture is to ridicule someone. But do we have license and right to even do that?

The Story of Qiu Ju

No, this is not a review. Sort of. I just had to let this out.

image courtesy of wikipedia.com

There are only a handful of films that stirs just enough in me to write about them. And The Story of Qiu Ju is a film that exactly does that. Directed by the masterful Zhang Yimou and starring Gong Li as the lead role, the film is about a peasant woman’s struggle to find justice. The story starts out when the village chief wrongfully kicks Qiu Ju’s husband, Qing Lai, in the groins after a verbal altercation. After the chief refuses to admit his wrongdoing and give an apology, Qiu Ju, who is far along in her pregnancy, decides to seek justice. She goes into town with her little sister and appeals to the rural court regarding her problem. The court orders the chief to pay monetary compensation for the damage which he obligingly does so but still refuses to admit he was wrong. Not giving in and refusing the money, Qiu Ju then travels again to the city to appeal to a higher court only to be disappointed and to be given the same result as before. But this does not discourage her so again she comes down from her rural province into the big city, and with the advice of a good-natured magistrate, she hires a lawyer to formally press charges. 

Henceforth, From Now On, Hereafter, Moving On...

Today, a friend’s post in her Facebook made me think a lot of things about moving on.

I wonder why it’s so easy for others to tell their friends to move on. I admit that before, I used to be one of those people who would just throw the phrase “Time to move on” too easily. Whenever a friend would cry her (or sometimes his) heart out to me about something lost or an ill-fated relationship, I was always ready to say my canned best friend response. Time to let go. Forget about it. Move on. I never gave it much thought, really. To my mind, I know it is right to say in a situation like that and as a friend I have to say  that to whoever it is that needs consoling. But after being in the same situation, now I realize that saying and knowing the meaning behind the phrase “move on” are two very different things.

One of the hardest questions I’ve asked myself so far is, how do I move on?

The Balcony Diaries

Entry#1:
August 5, 2011

5:15 AM

All the lights are out. Two of my friends are already lying face down on the couch and the comfy chairs that are carefully positioned on the irregular corners of this white living room. Only a few minutes ago, we were watching TV and drinking. Laughing at the insane mishaps we saw on television. Conversing about problems with our other friends, our past lives as kids. But the night gets the best of my two comrades. Sleep slowly creeps in and right now they are safely on their way to their personal haven of dreams. I feel like I’m being betrayed. While they lay there peacefully detached from the wide awake world, I am left here all alone stumbling in the darkness. 

Dissecting a Kpop Song: A Not So Simple Take on Super Junior’s Mr. Simple

 [Author’s Note: Since I have nothing better to do on a Sunday, I decided to examine the latest comeback single from Super Junior entitled Mr. Simple. And for my brain to finally make a move on to other pressing matters...]

Introduction:

Two of my college friends are avid listeners of Kpop (Korean Pop). At first, I do have reservations about this type of music for the fear of being called baduy (uncool) or being typecasted to be just a blind follower of what’s new and “hip”. Korean music is what sells with Filipinos right now, and it’s not going to die anytime soon. Just like Manny Pacquiao or the Azkals, they are inevitable media forces. If anything, I really don’t like joining media bandwagons. Aside from English, I don’t speak any other foreign language so listening to something I can’t understand a word of seems to be well, rather stupid and pointless. But whenever my friends and I would hang-out, every so often they would talk about these sorts of things and gush about cute boy vocalists and gossip about female ones. Since I really don’t want to be left out from their conversations anymore, I decided to give it a try. After all, I consider my music taste to be eclectic. I appreciate a good song when I hear it. And it doesn’t matter what genre they belong to or who sang it. I love songs from classics like The Beatles, ABBA, The Carpenters, rock bands like AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, U2 to boybands like 5ive, N SYNC to videoke regulars like Aegis and Celine Dion to name a few (Take Me Home Country Roads by John Denver is still a guilty pleasure of mine).  Hey, if it’s a good song, then it’s cool. Plus, I thought that listening to Asian pop artists can make me appreciate their culture more. So excuse me for promoting cultural diversity into my life.

So after checking out a few songs I came to realize that some of them aren’t half-bad. Although, the only way I can truly understand what their saying is for me to watch an English-subbed version of their music videos in Youtube (or if the artists decided to throw in an English phrase or two in the chorus), sometimes the music itself speaks volume. Catchy beats, well-played melodies and synchronized rhythm are enough to make a genuine music lover stop and listen. Sometimes, lyrics are not always what makes a song a good one. Add this to aesthetically well-produced music videos and fun, color-coordinated and sometimes loud and avant-garde fashion styles, listening and watching Kpop music is a definitely an experience that appeals to the senses.

Recently, Super Junior or SuJu, one of Kpop’s giant boy group, decided to make a comeback with a new single entitled Mr. Simple. Being the natural Kpop fanatics, my friends couldn’t get enough of it when the music video was launched online. After downloading the song and playing it in endless loop (redundancy intended) on one of our overnight hang-outs, it subconsciously became my LSS (Last Song Syndome). I must admit that as much as I detest SuJu for their recent remark on obese people, I find the song catchy. So let me try and dissect it more by examining the three main aspects of it: the music, lyrics and the corresponding video.

Japan: A Kingdom of Characters

The exhibit is open from  July 7 to August 20 2011
at the Metroplitan Museum in Manila.
image courtesy of cathsdee.com

Yesterday marked yet another spur-of-the-moment trips with my friends. Only this time, we decided to rekindle our cultured minds which have been slowly becoming dusty and rotting on the shelf, with a sudden trip at the Metropolitan Museum. Last month, the Japanese Foundation announced that it will hold an exhibit called Japan: Kingdom of Characters which will showcase prominent anime and manga characters we have all grown to love while giving highlight to a discussion on their social and historical significance with the Japanese culture. The exhibit promises to be quite a treat. Cartoon characters and social discourse, you can definitely count me in. The exhibit will run from July 7 until August 20. Naturally excited, I decided to inform my friends about it knowing that, like me, they will have a blast seeing it. We were set to go on one of the weekends last month, but in between sick babies, hectic work schedules, balikbayan barkadas, our supposed trip got cancelled in the last minute. So yesterday, after a night-out, we decided to finally cross it out from our to-do list.

We arrived at the Metropolitan Museum a few minutes after lunch. Since it was a sunny Friday afternoon, we were the only people in the exhibit, say except for the construction workers renovating the second floor (the MET Museum is being renovated and the upper galleries are closed to public viewing). The anime exhibit is located in the Tall Galleries, only a few short walks from the main entrance. With a big pink wall announcing its title in striking letters, it certainly catches attention. Sure enough when we got inside, a lifesize statue of Ultraman and Gundam gave us the feeling of being transported back to our youth. The exhibit is divided into three main sections. The first one shows a historical timeline of the many anime and manga characters that have emerged from different decades from the 1950’s to the year 2000. The next is a visual representation of a Japanese girl’s room overly adorned with Hello Kitty’s and many other kawaii (cute) characters showcasing how deeply they have penetrated the everyday life of the typical Japanese. The last part of the exhibit discusses the future of the anime culture with some audio-visual clips of the new generation anime made with new emerging techniques and media.

Mr. Lao, You Have Been Informed

Yesterday saw the birth of a new internet star. Unlike before, Ellen and Oprah had nothing to do with it and for once, nobody had to do a rendition of someone else’s ballad or dance a George Michael song naked. All it took was letting a car float on water while throwing blame on others on national TV and you have your own ticket to stardom. So move over Charice, we have a new overnight sensation and his name is Christopher Lao.

A Letter To My Younger Self

Dear Thirteen-Year-Old Al,

Congratulations for having lived past your thirteenth birthday.

You're going to be an adult in a few years and  I feel it’s my duty, as your wise, old self to warn and prepare you for the long road you will embark on soon. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I made. It’s going to be a long and confusing road, so you better buckle up. It won’t be a walk in the park, I assure you, but it won’t be all gloom and doom either. You’ll have tons of crazy, fun times, yes, but there will be those unavoidable moments that you will stop and feel lost. You’ll get hurt and confused. Despite this, you have to remember to keep on going. Time is the most valuable resource you have and you can never have enough or too much of it. If I rant too much please bear with me, I'm old.  I’m doing this for your own good. I have so many things to tell you and warn you about, that putting all of them in this letter will be impossible. I’ll try to put the most important things here. Remember that it is because I love you that I’m doing this. I hope you'll pick up a thing or two from what I’m about to tell you, so here goes...

One Rainy, August Morning

unfriending someone isn't always a bad thing
image courtesy of http://blog.timesunion.com 

I just realized that my ex unfriending me from Facebook this rainy August morning can be added to the many reasons why I love the rain so much. J

New Commitments and (Hopefully) New Beginnings

I have decided to keep my writing a commitment. The problem is, as easily as I get riled up with inspiration, I also lose interest all too quickly. This, plus the fact that I’m the biggest procrastinator I know, makes keeping this journal a massive undertaking. During those brief moments I find myself passionately thinking about something (or in rare cases, someone), I can easily whip up a few sentences that would serve as outlets to let whatever stagnant creative juices in my brain flow freely. That is, I can write with almost zen-like focus. Then after a few minutes of being in the zone, I get sidetrack with the most trivial things that I lose my momentum. After losing drive, I just stop with whatever I’m currently writing until the urge passes and then I move on to my next obsession. It’s an ugly trait that leaves many unfinished things in my life, I know. And to be fair, it doesn’t happen to my writing alone. In Filipino, I’m one of the many people na madaling magsawa.