TIME magazine's annual poll is back up. I've been on the lookout for this the past couple of days and didn't realize it's been right under my nose for a week now. In any case, I still find myself doing a doubletake on this list.
Patintera is busy navigating the corporate world at the moment.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
WARHOL ::: Don't Be Hatin'
There was a contest on the MTV Mobbed (TV program commissioned by Motorola) blogs a couple of weeks ago for best response to the topic "Tell us the ONE thing you love most about your country and why." Well, guess what? I won. Below is the post.
The happy people. Ask any expat who keeps coming back to the Philippines and you'll get this answer. Filipinos are fun, creative, laid back, loving, happy and VJ Max knows this first hand.That last part was not a dis, OK? Just an illustration of the contrasts.
Happiness. It's the one thing that sets us apart from the rest. It's not that we're blissfully lumbering around like deadbeats while the rest of us starve. It's mainly because Filipinos have a unique way of looking at life that makes it stress-free.
We know how to have fun regardless of how little we have. Sure, we're lagging in economics but we do our best every day to get better. What feeds this resiliency is our inate love for life. We take things one day at a time. Being happy demonstrates what Filipinos value most--over financial statistics, GDP, gratuitous flak from other national leaders...heck, even natural calamities. Where else can you see a woman smiling at the news cameras as she was being carried out from her house that was washed away by flood? Certainly not in New Orleans.
So they're supposed to give me any cd of my choice as prize but how're they gonna do that when they haven't contacted me yet? I was thinking I should make it a little more challenging for their lazy asses. Any ideas?
Friday, November 17, 2006
Some Things Money CAN Buy
Warning: Pompous ranting below
By this time, I've resigned to the fact that I will NEVER see the Vertigo Tour. To say that the odds are stacked high against me is an understatement. And so I will relish the remaining dates of this tour by reading about the setlists and viewing concert photos taken by lucky ducks whom I sincerely hope are true fans who know their U2. It would be utterly painful to find out they just happened to think it was the cool thing to do on a lazy night.
Given my lack of fundage, I shall therefore resort to concert DVDs of the best band in the world for the remainder of the year. A few are ripe for picking at the local Tower Records:
- Zoo TV Live
From Sydney
- Elevation 2001 Live
From Boston
- Vertigo 2005 Live
From Chicago
- and the upcoming limted edition deluxe CD/DVD U218
which drops Monday, November 20.
You can guess where my Christmas money will be going.
P.S. It seems I won last Topic of the Week. Thanks! As for the prize, this entry gives a little more than a nudge-wink. HAHA!
SHRINK RAP ::: Lighting a Fuse
Sixteen years ago today, I got sent out of my PE class permanently due to "excessive absences". I'd like to state, however, that it was more of a chronic mix-up in scheduling. You see, the teacher was always away on a sports meet and you wouldn't know if he would show up or not unless you waited in the gym for the duration of the class. But I had other important things to busy myself with aside than playing his little guessing game.
The rest of the day went on but I don't remember feeling much else other than fear--that sick-to-your-stomach kind of dread that leads to anxiety attacks. As I walked home, I replayed the scene over and over in my head until I reached the general vicinity of my house. Libay saw me approaching and blurted at me (with such disregard for tact that is a Tanzang Luma trademark) that Lola Delang had passed away. I felt a vacuum in my gut.
She had been ailing for months with multiple complications. At night, we would hear her calling out names of her dead relatives and wailing like a child. We knew the worst would come sooner. I just didn't expect two blows in one day.
When I got home, I remember people being calm and speaking in hushed voices. A few had tears in their eyes. I didn't intend to tell them the latest reason why I thought PE was pointless.
The rest of the day went on but I don't remember feeling much else other than fear--that sick-to-your-stomach kind of dread that leads to anxiety attacks. As I walked home, I replayed the scene over and over in my head until I reached the general vicinity of my house. Libay saw me approaching and blurted at me (with such disregard for tact that is a Tanzang Luma trademark) that Lola Delang had passed away. I felt a vacuum in my gut.
She had been ailing for months with multiple complications. At night, we would hear her calling out names of her dead relatives and wailing like a child. We knew the worst would come sooner. I just didn't expect two blows in one day.
When I got home, I remember people being calm and speaking in hushed voices. A few had tears in their eyes. I didn't intend to tell them the latest reason why I thought PE was pointless.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
U2 ::: Domo Arigato For No Domo
PulsePH has a contest running for a chance to see U2 in Japan at the end of the month. Yeah, I know what you're gonna say. I should cut yapping and do everything I can to bag the prize. After all, what's downloading all four U2 ringtones over and over again for the next five days to rack up points (and drain my already limited budget) if it'll get me to the promised land?
According to the rules, you've gotta have a valid passport (check) and Japanese visa (uh-oh) because I think the way they'll let you know you won is ambush you like in MTV FANatic. "Surprise! You're gonna see U2 live...tonight! Except it's gonna be in another country and you have to be authorized to enter that country and if you're not right this second well tough luck 'cause you forfeit the prize and we save sponsorship budget. Hehe! Thanks for joining!"
I am totally insane.
I learned about this just yesterday and til this second I haven't gotten one entry (one download equals one entry). So what I'll do is wait til they announce the winner and then harrass that person to irreversible paranoia because they know squat about U2's music. Start praying it won't be you, stupid poser from MTV Asia!
Hmm. This actually sounds like a very good and satisfying plan.
Friday, November 03, 2006
RIGHT BRAIN ::: Where Have You Been?
Once in a while, people would ask in rhetoric what would've become of the Philippines had the Americans not relinquished possession of these islands. I think the following can be one of the possible answers.
Kuya Boy (a.k.a. Uncle Victor from Seattle) is quite a character and I think he knows it. Some nights ago, he kept us up til 3 am as he waxed quite affectively on his youth. It won't take you long to guess how many times he's told this story. His prose is the stuff of low budget TV-movie dramedies, the kind you encounter on HBO Asia in slow afternoon blocks. Of course, if you ask most of our older relatives who were actually there, it's a dragedy. Hey, that sounds like "tragedy" if you have a stuffy nose. But I digress as usual.
He sniffed and chuckled for five or so hours as he recalled his teenage years. Their poverty and the responsibility of being the eldest child formed a major part of his struggles.
After graduating highschool, he held various blue collar jobs to help the family. One day, while on a visit to the general vicinity of Sangley Point (old US Navy base in Cavite) with a childhood friend, a group of American sailors (Navy servicemen) in a bar caught his attention. The sailors were, not unusually, cavorting with some local women while displaying a most whacked-out way of downing beer. Impressed by such carefree demeanor, he told his friend that that was the life he wanted to have. He wanted to be a sailor. (Might I mention that Kuya Boy gushed like a man who just hit pay dirt as he related this part of his story) He wasted no time in signing up for the qualifying exam.
The written test was a breeze but he encountered a hitch in the physical due to the fact that he was flat-footed. Disheartened, he pleaded with the Navy medical officer to reconsider because this was his family's only chance of a better life. The officer was moved by the sight of a skinny 18-year-old weeping and begging to join the most powerful maritime force to ever sail the planet. Soon, Kuya Boy was no longer flat-footed and blissfully proceeded with the rest of the physical exam.
A few months passed and he received his order to report to Sangley Point as one of the newest recruits of the United States Navy. When he got there, he recognized a few hometown boys with whom he will form lasting friendships. There they were, young, impressionable, provincial kids who were about to devote not only their formative teenage years but also the rest of their lives protecting (and worshiping) everything American. They were the proverbial plaster to be cast in the American mold.
They soon boarded a ship which took them to San Francisco. It was early 1964 when Kuya Boy and his mates disembarked and soon received formal training to launch what would be a three-decade-long career in the US Navy.
He wouldn't return to the Philippines until five years later to find his wife in the person of Amor Ordoñez from Bayan Luma, also in Imus. They made their home in Oxnard, California and later moved to Waialua, Hawaii sometime in the 70s. After raising four kids (all of whom, with the exception of Abigail, knew absolutely nothing about their parents' homeland) Kuya Boy brought his family to Seattle in the late 80s where they have achieved much success as real estate agents.
From all indications, Kuya Boy's life in America has been comfortably middle class Republican. I've never confirmed this but his devotion to the stars and stripes speaks GOP. You guessed it, he has become your typical freedom fries American. It's too obvious in his point of view, logic, expressions, even in his wardrobe and bathing habits.
I hope he doesn't take the 5 bucks back if he ever reads this.
Kuya Boy (a.k.a. Uncle Victor from Seattle) is quite a character and I think he knows it. Some nights ago, he kept us up til 3 am as he waxed quite affectively on his youth. It won't take you long to guess how many times he's told this story. His prose is the stuff of low budget TV-movie dramedies, the kind you encounter on HBO Asia in slow afternoon blocks. Of course, if you ask most of our older relatives who were actually there, it's a dragedy. Hey, that sounds like "tragedy" if you have a stuffy nose. But I digress as usual.
He sniffed and chuckled for five or so hours as he recalled his teenage years. Their poverty and the responsibility of being the eldest child formed a major part of his struggles.
After graduating highschool, he held various blue collar jobs to help the family. One day, while on a visit to the general vicinity of Sangley Point (old US Navy base in Cavite) with a childhood friend, a group of American sailors (Navy servicemen) in a bar caught his attention. The sailors were, not unusually, cavorting with some local women while displaying a most whacked-out way of downing beer. Impressed by such carefree demeanor, he told his friend that that was the life he wanted to have. He wanted to be a sailor. (Might I mention that Kuya Boy gushed like a man who just hit pay dirt as he related this part of his story) He wasted no time in signing up for the qualifying exam.
The written test was a breeze but he encountered a hitch in the physical due to the fact that he was flat-footed. Disheartened, he pleaded with the Navy medical officer to reconsider because this was his family's only chance of a better life. The officer was moved by the sight of a skinny 18-year-old weeping and begging to join the most powerful maritime force to ever sail the planet. Soon, Kuya Boy was no longer flat-footed and blissfully proceeded with the rest of the physical exam.
A few months passed and he received his order to report to Sangley Point as one of the newest recruits of the United States Navy. When he got there, he recognized a few hometown boys with whom he will form lasting friendships. There they were, young, impressionable, provincial kids who were about to devote not only their formative teenage years but also the rest of their lives protecting (and worshiping) everything American. They were the proverbial plaster to be cast in the American mold.
They soon boarded a ship which took them to San Francisco. It was early 1964 when Kuya Boy and his mates disembarked and soon received formal training to launch what would be a three-decade-long career in the US Navy.
He wouldn't return to the Philippines until five years later to find his wife in the person of Amor Ordoñez from Bayan Luma, also in Imus. They made their home in Oxnard, California and later moved to Waialua, Hawaii sometime in the 70s. After raising four kids (all of whom, with the exception of Abigail, knew absolutely nothing about their parents' homeland) Kuya Boy brought his family to Seattle in the late 80s where they have achieved much success as real estate agents.
From all indications, Kuya Boy's life in America has been comfortably middle class Republican. I've never confirmed this but his devotion to the stars and stripes speaks GOP. You guessed it, he has become your typical freedom fries American. It's too obvious in his point of view, logic, expressions, even in his wardrobe and bathing habits.
I hope he doesn't take the 5 bucks back if he ever reads this.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Just ONE Thing?
(This is my entry for the Topic of the Week which asks for one thing you like about your country)
The happy people. Ask any expat who keeps coming back to the Philippines and you'll get this answer. Filipinos are fun, creative, laid back, loving, happy. Just ask VJ Max, he knows this first hand.
Happiness. It's the one thing that sets us apart from the rest. It's not that we're blissfully lumbering around like deadbeats while the rest of us starve. It's mainly because Filipinos have a unique way of looking at life that makes it stress-free.
We know how to have fun regardless of how little we have. Sure, we're lagging in economics but we do our best every day to get better. What feeds this resiliency is our inate love for life. We take things one day at a time. Being happy demonstrates what Filipinos value most--over financial statistics, GDP, gratuitous flak from other national leaders...heck, even natural calamities. Where else can you see a woman smiling at the news cameras as she was being carried out from her house that was washed away by flood? Certainly not in New Orleans.
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