horror movies

while lining up for a ticket to the simpsons movie last saturday, i caught up with my friend chick & his girlfriend charo. they were buying tickets for a pinoy horror flick called 'ouija', which gives them a very good excuse to get entangled in each other's arms, i think. they then ask me if i wanted to go with them. thought about it, then decided to go with my original plan, since i didn't want to bother them in their... entanglement. anyway, i didn't have anyone to wrap my arms around in case it was me who got scared.

then it occurred to me, is there any other logical reason that people watch horror movies? what's so fun about scaring yourself? have we become so numb and bored with our comfortable lives that we crave that jolt of fear every now and then? or is it just a way of making us happy with our lives by saying to ourselves 'thank God that's not me', while watching people get chased by a madman wielding a chainsaw?

anyhow, if you really want to scare yourself, it's better if you watch al gore's documentary, 'an inconvenient truth'. it's not a horror movie, but think about it. what's scarier than stories of ghosts, ghouls, monsters, and serial killers? the truth.

and by the way, the simpsons movie is a work of genius. if you haven't seen it, get out of your seat now while it's still showing. watch it. watch it. watch it.

the ambulance

attention torn from her wares
the ambulant vendor stares,
as an ambulance breaches
the bustle in the air,
and its sirens scream suffering

the beggar breaks the breakfast in his head,
the sirens' screams wrenching him
to a wakefulness without bread
his happy delusions ended

the policeman parts a path in this pedestrian sea
as rush hour drivers swerve to give way
and commuters look on curiously
interrupted in their reverie

the ambulance soon zooms away
the shrieking fades and dies
the world goes back to turning:
the vendor in her selling,
the beggar to his dreams,
the drivers in their driving,
the travelers in their schemes

and i in my seat wonder
at how quickly the world turns again,
then that grim revelation
from a poet of old:
therefore never send to know for whom the siren screams
it screams for thee

i've been tagged

stephen tagged me. i'm supposed to write 7 random facts about myself, then tag 7 other people to do the same. me thinks this tagging thing is an exercise in narcissism, started by a narcissist to bring out the hidden narcissist among his fellow netizens. but then, aren't we all? so here goes...

7 things about me

1.) i have 85 friendster 'friends' as of 1:53pm of july 17, 2007. yeah, it may be nothing compared to the hundreds you probably have already, but it's a big improvement over what i used to have. i only had 6 'friends' a few months ago, composed mainly of my college buddies. i'm a late bloomer.

i only started expanding my 'friends' list in the past 3 months or so, when i realized that i'd look pathetic with only 6 'friends'. so i began searching for the profiles of other friends, former classmates and officemates and sent them all 'friend' requests. looking at my rising number of 'friends', i patted myself in the back, thinking that i finally looked normal.

and then one day, this girl whom i didn't know, a 'friend' of a 'friend', sent me a 'friend' request, wanting me to be her 'friend' too. though i knew nothing about her, i thought, what the heck, it's only friendster, so i made her my 'friend' too.

my buddies seemed to do this a lot. when they see a profile with a pretty face, they'd also ask the chick to be their 'friend'. they actually had lots of 'friends' they didn't really know. one of them was even 'friends' with boybits victoria, the former pba player. so it occured to me: what's the point of having all these 'friends' when, beyond the trivial facts on your profile like one's favorite movies or favorite songs, you don't even know anything about them?

is it all about just wanting to not look like a loser?

2.) my bowels and i are scheduled to go first thing every morning the moment i get out of bed, unless something urgent disturbs me. and i prefer doing it in complete quiet and privacy. this is usually the time i do my meditation over the upcoming day. thus, i must have my peace. a number of good ideas have already hit me while sitting on the toilet bowl. there has to be something mentally stimulating about sitting on the toilet bowl, no?

it can also be pretty unnerving for me to know that someone is nearby when i'm taking a crap, that they can hear my crap drop into the toilet water. it bothers my conscience that i may have just ruined somebody else's appetite by grossing them out.

i've read somewhere that in some upscale offices they have separate toilets for the managers and another for the rank-and-file employees. i guess them managers don't want the perception of their superiority tarnished by the truth that, like us mere mortals, they too can be overtaken by the need to take a crap.

3.) i am more of a cat person than a dog person. i prefer the dignified charm of cats over the attention seeking neediness of dogs, who usually show their affections excessively, to the point of being self indulgent. and cats tend to be more confident in your affections toward them, unlike the insecurity of dogs who seem to keep on demanding that you prove it to them.

i like dogs mind you, and having both can be pretty handy around the house. it's like having the services of a pest control company (cats) and a home security system (dogs), and all you have to do is feed them everyday. but i like cats better. and besides, they're a lot less messy.

4.) i always take a nap on sunday afternoon. any deviation from this routine makes me cranky.

5.) "i am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar" - how soon is now by love spit love

i am extremely and chronically shy. when in parties, i am like a fish out of water, i have difficulty breathing. in the course of evolution, animals develop defensive adaptations when they enter such uncomfortable situations. moths, for instance, employ 'protective coloration', i.e. they try blending in with the surroundings by changing color. as for me, i try blending in with the furniture. but i can't really say that my technique is effective, as no one has yet mistaken me for a chair by sitting on me. maybe i look more like a cabinet than a chair? further research is required.

the tragedy of being shy is that some people can mistake one's shyness as aloofness or being 'hambugero'. this unfortunate judgement results in the shy people being avoided all the more, bringing them to even deeper isolation, a dillema that can be solved only by breaking out of one's shell.

6.) my facial hair grows a bit too fast for my diligence in shaving it. just give it a week's time and my beard can cover my face like weeds. and shaving can be a very tedious chore, seeing how my beard covers a big part of my face. so i'm wondering: do chicks in general dig guys with facial hair? or do they prefer the clean look?

7.) i hate wearing shoes. i only wear sandals/slippers, even to work (unless i'm at the gym or playing some sport). of all the things i am grateful for, one is the fact that our office dress code gives us the freedom to wear shorts and sandals.

you see, i want my feet to be able to breathe, to see the world, and not be "condemned to live in a shoe" as pablo neruda would put it. you'd be like an overly protective parent if you don't let your feet out once in a while, you know. and you wouldn't want to live in the dark all day would you?

***************

now that i'm done, you people on the list below: you've been tagged! :)

kalen - http://kalentoledo.blogspot.com/
erik - http://erikbriones.blogspot.com/
lenin - http://aloofinmyhead.wordpress.com/
berty - http://forsakendemon.blogspot.com/
manuel - http://yours_and_mine.blogs.friendster.com/my_blog/
dado - http://psychicimpulse.blogspot.com/
farrah - http://farrahdy.blogspot.com/

the eternal erection

makes me think of converting:

... as the Encyclopaedia of Islam says, even orthodox Muslim theologians such as al Ghazali (died 1111 CE) and Al-Ash'ari (died 935 CE) have "admitted sensual pleasures into paradise". The sensual pleasures are graphically elaborated by Al-Suyuti (died 1505 ), Koranic commentator and polymath. He wrote: "Each time we sleep with a houri we find her virgin. Besides, the penis of the Elected never softens. The erection is eternal; the sensation that you feel each time you make love is utterly delicious and out of this world and were you to experience it in this world you would faint. Each chosen one [ie Muslim] will marry seventy [sic] houris, besides the women he married on earth, and all will have appetizing vaginas."

miss melancholy

she wades through
a wet week's worth
of rain, of tears,
a pain i fear i cannot fathom

these words can only gasp
for a grasp of what it means
to be forgotten.
when memories begotten
by ghosts of sunny days gone
are just that: memories.

i am sorry.
i know not yet such pain.
i can only empathize so much.

but this though i can say:

the local weather report
may talk of another rainy week ahead.
but it's THAT season, no reason really
to wrinkle your forehead
when the songs of the birds are dead.

they are only hiding.
all falls to a matter of finding:
a hot cup of coffee on a cold afternoon,
a warm bed and the sound of raindrops lulling you to sleep,
the corny joke of a friend desperate to make you smile,
the occasional break in the clouds for light to shine through

the season won't last, of course.
soon the slumbering bear in his cave
will wake to marvel at a world
where winter is only a sentence
lodged in the past tense.

portrait of a family dinner at a japanese restaurant

i'm taking up a new hobby: observing people.

it's friday evening, and i still have an hour and a half before transformers the movie starts, so i'm off to dinner at rai rai ken ayala. i take up a table and notice that sitting across me was this family of four. so i decide to practice my new hobby and observe them for the duration of the dinner.

there was the father and the mother, both i think in their late 30s, and their 2 daughters, both of whom couldn't have been older than 7. the kids were playing w/ their chopsticks, w/c would be the natural thing kids do at a japanese restaurant. their table was also littered w/ the shredded chopstick wrappers. this upset and probably also embarrassed the mom, who was wearing an almost pained expression on her face while watching the kids at their antics. so to save her reputation, she proceeded scolding the kids, but very very quietly, so as to not attract everybody else's attention. the kids did settle down a bit, but continued playing w/ their chopsticks anyway, beating their plates like drums.

the more detached father, seeing what the kids were doing w/ their chopsticks, decided teaching the kids how to use them. i'm no expert at chopsticks, but i think he was holding it wrong. he crossed the sticks in his right hand like scissors, w/c would make controlling the chopsticks more difficult. a question to chopstick users: was the dad doing it wrong? or am i the one doing it wrong? anyhow, the kids couldn't seem to figure it out so the parents were forced to ask the waiter for a spoon and fork for both of the kids.

they ordered 3 bentos and a ramen. i think their plan was to have 1 bento each for the grown ups and have the kids split the 3rd bento, and they would all share the ramen. the grown ups' bentos arrived first, so the father, in his capacity as provider, distributed some of his own food to the kids. he already gave the kids some rice & teriyaki beef, then he took one whole tempura from his plate and gave it to the youngest. but the kid didn't look too interested in the tempura, maybe found it too big, so she gave it back to dad. the dad then passed the tempura to the older kid, who also gave it back to dad. already rejected twice, he then gave it to the mom, at w/c point the mom frowned at the extra serving of tempura on her plate. weird, nobody seemed to want the tempura. if not for the distance between their table and mine, i would have volunteered to assist them in the tempura's disposal. but the mom soon found a solution to the tempura dilemma. she split the thing in half, giving one piece to each kid, both of whom happily accepted. problem solved.

then the 3rd bento arrived, and the ramen. the dad tried distributing the ramen, but mom and the kids would only take the soup and only a little of the noodles. the kids couldn't finish the 3rd bento. the mom, who never lost the pained expression on her face since the start of the dinner, also didn't seem too keen on the leftovers. so it was all up to dad, who gamely started on what was left of the kids' bento, and then the ramen noodles. he soon cleaned everything out, leaving nothing to waste. that must be why most men tend to get fat when they become fathers (what we cebuanos call 'papa ug lawas'), they're the ones who have to clean up the kids' leftovers.

after seeing dad clean everything up, the mom, still wearing the pained expression on her face, calls the waiter and asks for the bill. the kids were now as well behaved as angels, their full tummies probably holding them down. hmmm... a thought, their must be a link between child obesity and hyperactivity. maybe the parents of obese kids overuse food as a solution to the kids' hyperactivity.

the bill soon arrived, and out came dad's wallet. he paid for the dinner in cash. the change promptly arrived, and i noticed that the dad took everything, not leaving any for a tip. i myself didn't leave a tip for my meal. are we filipinos really bad tippers in general? w/ the change now safely in the dad's pocket, they all stood up and left. the mom's face was now noticeably calmer, like she was relieved the dinner didn't turn out to be a disaster.

seeing no other interesting subject left in the restaurant, i finished what was left of my food, paid my bill, and left.

people watching

it is 3pm on a lazy saturday afternoon, and i am relaxing at bo's coffee club ayala, sipping a chocolate chip froccino. very disappointed with the chocolate chip froccino. the ice and the chocolate chips were too lumpy that sucking through the straw required the strength of a vacuum cleaner. the barrista probably wasn't in the mood to blend the darn thing well enough. i start thinking that maybe i should have gone to bigbucks for my caffeine fix. i can personally attest that bigbucks' coffee kicks bo's coffee's ass. and even better, i have an employee's discount at bigbucks. but the thing with bigbucks though, it's just that there aren't too many interesting people to watch there.

for example, to my right is a group of 4 office girl type chicks. they are talking very animatedly, like they haven't seen each other in a long time. maybe they were close college friends, this being one of those rare opporunities that they all weren't too busy to meet and catch up on each other. i find the one facing me cute, so i steal some looks at her every now & then. but then i notice a ring on her finger. damn. she's married.

to my left, is a young couple, about college age. they both look shy, this might be their first date. they talk in short and measured sentences, as if both are scared of saying something that might screw things up. both are looking quietly out the window. they only look at each other when they talk, then they promptly go back to looking out the window. the girl is pretty. the guy must feel very lucky to snag a date with her. i wish him luck.

after about 30 minutes, the young couple leaves. they are replaced by another couple, a filipina and a white guy. a most interesting specimen. the white guy is carrying a camera with him, taking pictures of his filipina date. he has a very tourist-y aura about him, like he just landed from the states. they order coffee, brownies, and ice cream. the filipina looks bored & uncomfortable. they don't talk very much. the white guy does most of the talking, while the filipina just smiles most of the time. i get a sense that they are still trying to form a connection. the white guy looks like your normal run-off-the-mill average looking white guy. but his filipina date is just... well... to put it more politely... exotic.

the question that's racing in my mind as i watch them is this: does he really find her attractive??? or is he just plain desperate? i so would've wanted ask him that, but i expected a punch to the gut to come after the question. we wouldn't want an international incident in our hands would we?

when we see such couples, we start forming conclusions based on our prejudices. we surmise that the filipina girl is poor, and the white guy middle aged and desperate. we guess that they found each other over the internet, maybe through social networking sites like friendster or dating sites like itzamatch.com, or maybe some random chat room over ym or msn. they continue chatting or exchanging emails in a span of a year or so, trying to form a virtual bond with each other. white guy eventually decides to come to the philippines so they can see each other in person. and now, here they are, right in front of me, having coffee.

a common judgement is that the relationship is one that is created out of convenience, with the hope that love will find its way into their hearts as the relationship runs its course. the filipina is usually condemned as a gold digger and the white guy as a poor pathetic sucker. such blanket judgements are wrong of course, but prejudice usually has some basis in truth. anyway, we're all trying to find love one way or another. that's just how it works for them. i can only hope that both are sincere.

while i was caught in my reverie, a weird man suddenly approaches. he asks me, quite rudely, if the other seat on my table was taken. i was too surprised to say anything, so i just stared at him. without waiting for my answer, he takes the other chair, swings it to the side, sits down, and takes a nap. i considered the act a violation of my personal air space, but what could i do? technically, table and chair weren't mine. and i couldn't just shoo him away. so i waited for him to open his eyes, then i gave him my best impression of the ghost rider's penance stare. luckily, he got the message, and moved to another spot. he wasn't so dumb after all.

suggestion to bigbucks management: you guys should be setting up a branch at ayala, or some other mall. at least the people won't be so boring.