A Bank Manager Called Amanita

Usually, I think of bank managers as people who have reached that level of responsibility and maturity wherein they can think out of the box as opposed to other bank employees and security guards wherein their decisions are based solely on their Manual of Standard Operating Procedures. From past observations, bank managers are there to smoothen out transactions and make the daily grind more efficient. This is natural to many, but this afternoon I had the privilege to experience the most inept and inflexible of all managers.

1:30 p.m.

I went to PCIB bank at the Roxas Blvd.- Ermita branch for the procurement of my sister’s (Thank you!) remittance. This branch I really love because they are efficient in processing my cash, making the experience very agreeable. Unfortunately, they just had a computer upgrade so they could not process remittances but gave me a transaction form to fill up which I can give to other branches.

I remembered that there was another branch at Pedro Gil & Mabini, fronting the new Hyatt hotel, so I hurried there immediately.

2:00 p.m.

I was directed to the manager’s desk where upon I sat down holding my completed form. I was informed that the manager was out so I had to wait for a while. Fine. After five minutes, this lady with Chinese features appeared looking very harassed. Let us hide her name as Amanita Chewbacca. Amanita flitted here and there looking for a printer to finish her “urgent” transaction. Only after which she attended to our needs; “our” means me and a man with an elbow contracture who was withdrawing what seems to be a bundle of $100 bills. With such an amount, it was surprising to see the bank’s head honcho and Amanita verrrry deferential to this customer.

After the rich customer left the bank, Ms. Amanita had the stupi… I meant, the “audacity” to persuade me not to pursue my transaction because according to her, it’s a Monday, so there are tons of transactions and it would be “verrrry difficult” to get through. What she means is that she’s not interested in entertaining me. She then suggested that if I will leave my form, I can get my cash the next day. WTF? She means to tell me that I just wasted my time waiting there for nothing? How impertinent of her to suggest that my time is not valuable. Of course, stubborn as I was I did not heed her suggestion and instead smiled at her and told her, “It’s fine. I can wait.”

I think she became exasperated because she proceeded then to call the PCIB call center. Fine. The quicker I can get out of this bank, the better. I thought we could connect immediately but no, the line just looped and looped with “Please hold on, our lines will be available soon” voice with no end in sight. She asked me to hold the phone and wait for an answer.

“Just press ‘2’ until someone answers you. Then you give it to me,” she said. I complied thinking at least this way I can increase her efficiency.

After several minutes, Amanita’s big honcho went to our desk and complained that the bank has only one line and that there might be transactions that can’t get through. In simpler terms, she wanted me to drop my queue, and wait for the sky to fall. I am not sure this is a bank’s SOP to cut-off transactions because it was difficult to reach their call center. So, we stalled perhaps ten minutes until the coast was clear. Then, she tried again to connect. Suffice to say that in the end, she was able to talk to a call center representative.

Here’s the kicker: After less than a minute on the phone, she told me that she cannot do my transaction. WTF? I waited here for nearly an hour and that’s all she can say? She told me that my name on the form did not match the name on the computer. For instance, if the name on my form was “Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus”, the call center told Amanita that the name on theirs was “Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus Wolfgang.” Because of that clerical error, Amanita Chewbacca denied me of my remittance. I really wondered if she took (or even passed) Logic 101 in college for any college graduate would agree:

1. That a customer who holds a unique transaction number means that no two persons with different names can hold the same number;
2. That a customer who had a matched “secret word” means that he/she is privy to that transaction with the sender;
3. That my name was just repeated at the end means that it was near impossible that I was not the same person indicated in the computer.

But since Ms. Amanita has an IQ equal to that of a sea cucumber, she cannot fathom the logic. She may be right and strict with the name game, but any person can see that she was very inflexible and incorrigible. Usually, I do not complain with that rudimentary kind of logic in circumstances that needed my correct name, such as board exam applications, visa applications, or legal proceedings. But with a simple case of getting remittances, she had gone overboard.

In a stroke of utter brilliance, Ms. Amanita Chewbacca gave me these options: a) to produce another identification card showing I was “Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus Wolfgang”, and b) to call the recipient to amend my name. The first choice was plain dumb. I don’t know how she was able to think of such a dumb idea. What you sow, you reap I guess. And her second option entails more wasted time and circumlocutory red tape. I do not have the patience for that.

This reflects badly on Ms. Amanita because her brain (which is presumably clogged with fat from her thighs) tells her that customers’ time is not a valuable commodity. It also shows that she’s so bereft of imagination that she can’t think of anymore ways to find a solution to such a logical problem. She’s like a frog that immediately stops jumping because a high wall is placed in front of her. It’s infuriating that someone in that position can be so narrow-sighted and unimaginative. I don’t think she deserves to be in that job.

She could just convince the call center that I was the same one on the latter’s computer and go ahead with the transaction. But no, she just reclined in her chair and repeatedly said, “I cannot do anything. You need to have that name amended.”

Sensing how futile this has become, I stood up, collected my things, and curtly thanked her for wasting my time and added that perhaps other PCIB managers have more imagination than her in conducting transactions like this.

3:00 p.m.

In a huff, I went out of that branch while cursing that poor excuse of a manager. Good thing the bank’s security guard heard my plight and directed me to another branch at Robinson’s mall. Full of trepidation, I entered the third branch thinking another mentally imbalanced manager will find ways not to do her job. I was wrong. I should have gone here instead of that awful Mabini branch.

I sat down again at the manager’s desk with my completed form in hand. She was a bit busy explaining to a MidEastern man something about his remittances not appearing on paper. After she had settled that, she took one look at my form and logged in into her computer. She punched in my name and in a matter of seconds, approved my transaction without reserve or suspicion. This cool manager took my identification cards and had it photocopied and subsequently I was directed to the teller where I can get my cash. Talk about efficiency! I noticed that in the printed form she attached to mine, the same "repeated name” was shown, but since she has an IQ befit of capable bank managers, she must have concluded that it was just clerical error. It was a clear sign that she was USING HER HEAD unlike the former manager. This was the way the 1st branch would deal with me. Seeing that it was next to impossible to have different persons having the same transaction number, my “suki” manager would go right ahead and approve the transaction. Perhaps, if I was a VIP client with wads of $100 bills, then such awful managers will do everything to have my remittance cleared.

Moral of the Story: Be kind to animals.

Pirate's Lair 2006

Two years fast forward from my last entry about the pirate's lair of Quiapo, an update is expectedly needed. There were lots of expansions up to the periphery of the original buildings. DVD quality is going to the rats. Why? They get from China and not from Malaysia. They get those 100-in-1 dvds which degrade the quality. I still prefer the 1 title = 1 dvd since they have the possibility of retaining all those wonderful special features.

The map above indicates the location (yellow) of the pirate stalls and the letters are as follows: a = anime, m = music, s = software.

Entrance Points:
1. From the Quiapo Church (and South-bound commutes), enter the Lacson underpass and cross the street to Hidalgo exit point. Use map indicated above.


2. From the North-bound commutes, jump off at the street where you see a green-tarpaulin signage saying "Hortaleza Vaciador," a local beauty supplies shop. This street perpendicular to Quezon boulevard is Arlegui street. Go straight and use the map above as indicated.

What to Bring:
* Cash - lots of it! Going back is a pain in the neck, so if you find a title that you've been dying to watch, get it!
* Messenger bag - backpacks are sitting ducks for pickpocketers, so having this will ensure the safety of your belongings
* Wear simple clothes. The stench of "Eau de Corps" (More like Eau de Corpse) compounded by the aroma of dried puke, expired cooking oil, mildew and piss is enough for you to wear only shorts and T-shirt.

What NOT to Bring:
* Credit cards - Everything is cash-only basis.
* Expensive cellphones - Snatchers abound. Still, it's an irony to see Muslim DVD traders owning phones more sophisticated than yours.

Purveryors:
Most of the sellers are MUSLIMS! So, if you value your life, do not crack any Anti-Moslem jokes. But you can ask them why Allah chose Isa (Jesus) to come down here during the Day of Judgement and not their beloved Mohammed, and listen to their wonderful and defensive answers. Or you can ask them if whether they prostrate themselves five times a day towards Mekkah right there in the black-colored concrete alleyways with their heads bowed on the filthy floor.

*Caveat: It is unevitable that some touts will accost you along one of the DVD streets enticing you to buy their Adult dvds. You can see them standing on the street with nothing to do but harrass people with their sales pitch. My advice is: DON'T GO. They will lead you the the darkest recesses of this bungalow marketplace where they will trap you in buying their wares. They will "implicitly" threaten you with violence if you do not buy a single one of their overpriced dvds. They don't give discounts because they know you are at their mercy. A college friend of mine who frequented this Muslim quarter ended up running for his life when they forced him to buy their dvds. These shady sellers force you to buy so they can get a commision for leading you to their lair.

Buyers:
All sectors of Filipino society patronize the pirate's lair. From students from MLQU, to priests from San Sebastian Church, to nurses & doctors, to SM employees, to rich SOBs riding their FORD F150, to barong-clad personnel from Malacañang, to DVD resellers coming from the provinces, to Caucasian and Korean tourists in shorts and puka-shell necklaces. No one is exempted.

Sources:
1. Malaysia - they provide the best quality DVDs with their shiny laminated insert and the golden hue of the discs. DVDs from this Truly Asian nation is truly fantastic.
2. China - they are characterized by their silver discs, the Chinese characters, the atrocious synopsis and their subtitles done in perfect pidgin English.
3. Philippines - they have golden discs with golden designs (unlike the malaysians) and their title inserts looked as if a high school dropout photoshopped the screenshots and voila! Also, other manufacturers burn films into blank dvd disks just like burning a vcd in your computer. In this case, it's a hit and miss.

Products Sold:
*DVDs
1. Unreleased Hollywood films
a. copied from a promotional disc
b. copied inside a theater
2. Released Hollywood films (copied from the original DVD)
3. Classics (Hitchcock, Kurosawa, war movies, etc.)
4. Arthouse films (infrequent, scarce supply, rare titles) ex. Criterion collection
5. Asian foreign films (Korean, Japanese)
6. Asian Telenovelas (Boxed sets)
7. Tagalog films - DVD burned
8. Sitcoms, US drama series, Documentaries (Boxed sets)
9. Adult Features

*MP3s & CDs - usually great copies and cheap at P25 a disc
1. Oldies
2. Jazz
3. Rock & Pop
4. OPMs

*VCDs
1. DVD copies
2. Videoke
3. Adult Features

*Softwares
1. Games
2. Installers
3. Anti-Virus Programs

There are lots of places to start. And you have to be discriminating with your choice of DVDs. Just don't take it as it is because if something is wrong with it, it can be very difficult to return it back for exchange. There are rows and rows of DVDs and with luck, you can stumble on rare titles (like the works of Kurosawa and Tinto Brass), or better copies of unreleased films. The DVDs are stack on shelves upon shelves extending from the floor to the ceiling. When they say DVD copy, it means it was copied from the original, but when they say "Clear copy," it means it's not worth buying the disc yet.

Routine:
1. Check for the titles.
To know whether a title is copied from an original DVD:
* Check the quality of the DVD insert. If it looks like similar to the released DVD and not like a photoshopped title where the words are misspelled and the description is inaccurate, then it must be from an original copy.

* Check the spine. If there's a code like "DVD-349" or "MCD-582", most often than not, it's copied from an original disc.

2. Check for scratches and defects on the shiny side of the DVD.
* If there are scratches, it would be difficult to return.
* Make sure that the film can play in your player. Certain players do not accept PAL format, so be wary of European art films who have PAL stamped at the back.

3. Have you choice be tested on their DVD player.
* Don't take no for an answer! Threaten them that you'll buy from the next stall. If they will assure you that the title in hand is a DVD copy, then you either take their word for it or you ask them "nicely" if they have a blood-relative nearby who can test it for you.

4. HAGGLE.
* A P5-10 discount must be asked.
* Current Prices range from P35-55 nowadays.

5. Make sure they stamp/mark the DVD title insert, so if you return them, you can argue that it was from their store that you've bought the disk from because if not, they can play that Shylock argument that you "might have bought it from other stalls."

What to Do During Raids:
* Go onto the street & act non-chalantly
* Enter the nearest convenience store or fastfood joint and loiter inside
* Shout hysterically in Arabic that you have a bomb strapped inside your shirt.

* The Real Deal:

Today, raids are RARE in Quiapo. However, if Edu and his
cohorts have a scheduled raid, more or less, the sellers have already been
tipped off and are extremely vigilant during that particular day. You can see
them talking about the impending raid, having boxes readied, and their supplies
are not 100% displayed. Besides, if a raid ensues, the news spreads like
wildfire and within a span of five minutes, all of the shops are closed. Just
make sure to get out of the DVD alley lest you will be locked inside with the
Muslim traders.

Boycott Petron

It is ironic that at this point of time where there is still a slim window of opportunity to take that leaking oil tanker off from the waters of Guimaras, Petron is delaying its obligations to clean up its act. As a consumer, I am disgusted at the company's seeming insensitivity towards the environment, and how it washes its hands of any responsibility.

I wanted to help in letting Petron feel my displeasure, but I felt helpless in making a dent at the company. But then, I remembered how Gandhi evoked change through civil disobedience wherein he urged ordinary people to boycott English cotton which resulted in hurting of the sales of foreign business and the eventual attention of the British government.To evoke change is to provoke Petron where it hurts them the most: their pockets. In this regard, I urge all petrol-consuming Filipinos to BOYCOTT ALL PETRON PRODUCTS AND GAS STATIONS until they remove that ship from the Guimaras waters. I'm doing my share of protest in the hope that they will listen to the voice of its consumers.

Ugly Philippine Book Covers

1. Philippine book publishers always complain of dismal sales of their books. Even if the authors themselves are luminaries in the field of fiction and self-help and the contents of their works are capable of churning into another Noli or Fili, the turnover for books remains slow, which makes one wonder: why? Besides the fact that many Filipinos do not read local fiction (in book form) for the sheer pleasure of it, another factor that scares away potential readers is the very ugly and uninspired covers that adorn perhaps 95% of local books.
   
   That poses a question: Who makes these very ugly covers? High school drop-outs? Elementary graduates? Three blind mice?
   
   Lot A:
   
   
   Lot B:
   
   Lot A showed the local fiction while B showed works by Filipino authors published in the US. Which of the two would you get? If you ask me, I’d choose the American ones for its nice and decent covers. If you are already a well known author, no matter how crappy and cheesy your covers are, people will still buy them because they know you write really well. Authors like Agatha Christie, their books sell despite the ugly covers. Khaled Hosseini’s Kite Runner was being passed by customers inside bookstores because of its lackluster cover, but because of word of mouth as to how well-written his story was, customers buy the book and catapulted it to Amazon’s top 10 list.
   
   
   However, here in the Philippines, having a name like Lualhati Bautista or Nick Joaquin will not automatically mean ka-ching of the cash registers. They have great stories that have been made into seminal movies, but ask anyone if they have read Dekada 70 or Tropical Gothic and they’ll give you the blank stare. Compounded with such patent ignorance is the crappiness of their covers and paper quality. Toilet paper has a better consistency than some of the Philippine publications I’ve seen. I know they are trying hard to keep costs down in order to reach to the masses, but the quality of the print is really a big insult to the masses. It shows this: poor quality for the poor masses.
   
   
   There are also Filipino authors who, because of their popularity, can demand high-volume sales despite the ugliness of their covers. Such example is Bob Ong’s Libro ni Hudas- its front and back covers are soot-black with no endearing design whatsoever. Instead of connoting evil, it makes one think of a septic tank. Its paper quality is like coupon bond (the cheap type) and the binding has staple wires denoting the economy of its printing. And yet, teens and tweens lap up all Ong’s books including the recent release of his Stainless Longganisa. I bought one and I find it mediocre and self-flagellating. There are lucid moments of wittiness but the whole plot fell by the second half of the book. If not for the byword of its contents, I can not imagine how to retail such cra… umm… book. One the bright side, if this helps in making Pinoys read, then I’m all for it.
   
   As for first-time writers and struggling fictionists, having a timely and snazzy cover can entice curious customers to buy your book. People look for eye-catching fiction and publishers know this. I’m just appalled at the sheer stupidity of local printers why they cannot revamp their already crappy covers. It is an injustice and an insult to the sweat and tears of the authors who toiled for months just to type all those words. And the hack graphic artist can only come up with a half-baked second-rate cover art? Shame. So, if your book does not fly off the shelves because it looked like a survivor from Somalia, then it is the publisher’s fault. Why their fault? Consider the fact that books do not have a promodizer (just like grocery items where agents swarm you to buy their products), are not being advertised in the main broadsheets or TV commercials, and do not have a megaphone to lure customers in, these lonely pieces of literature depend only on four factors to make customers buy them: 1) price, 2) book reviews, 3) word of mouth, 4) book cover. This means that nearly all of the tricks to make us buy fall on the responsibility of the publisher.
   
   Without these, even a book-signing event can’t pull it through. Khaled Hosseini in one of his first book signing lamented that there was only one customer who wanted to have his autograph. This was before word-of-mouth made his book the darling of the publishing industry.
   
   Also, I can't fathom why mediocrity is the dictum of the day for our graphic artists. I know there is no dearth of Filipino talent in the realm of arts and music, but looking at the annual crop of book covers make me cringe. If you exclude the crappy printing of local publishers, the art must stand on its own. A lousy uninspired art does not make readers want to open that book. Some might argue that printers want to economize on the ink, so they use only monochrome. Yet, many local book covers are printed in FULL color which means they have little reason to curtail on the artistic expression of a graphic artist. Hence, a crappy graphic artist can only make a crappy cover.
   
   I still cannot fathom why American artists can churn up great book covers and not us. Read on the interview of Paul Buckley to learn about cover art and see the great book covers he has done. Read it here and here.

For instance, on the left is Dean Alfar’s award-winning novel “Salamanca” while on the right is Gaiman’s “American Gods.” Both books have are mostly printed in green, yellow and black hues. Creativity wise, Alfar’s cover lacks inspiration and clarity and looks as if it was just made overnight. Gaiman’s cover looked enigmatic and eye-catching; its art sends a clear message of a coming storm.

Another great novel disgraced with an uninspired frontispiece is Rosario Lucero’s “Feast and Famine: Stories of Negros”. It looks as if the artist slept on it and rushed the work the next day. There is no come-on to open the book, and the theme does not encapsulate or even capture the rich essence of Negros life. For me, the only thing the brash of colors denote is the sweltering heat of the tropical sun. Had the author read the book, he or she may have done another concept rather than paint the whole piece as a tribute to drought and El Niño. The contents itself are masterpieces but with a cover like that, I dunno.

This is ironic because many of the books in the Anglophone nations use photos and paintings to create beautiful covers. Here, the artists are contented to post doodles of their friends and art projects done by their two-year old niece, and call it art. Many of them have “horror vacui” or the dread of leaving an empty space. It’s either that or too much minimalism that it already looks like an overnight project by a dropout. Others superimpose sour-looking ancestral photos of the authors in a bid for self-glorification of whatever bastardized family-tree the writer has. And the fonts used are either too cheesy like lightning bolt shaped vowels or too unprofessional by using passé fonts like Comic Sans and Copperplate Gothic for titles. It just shows how haphazard the job was done. And the spacing of letters is non-existent. These so-called artists use only standard spacing found in MS Word and whatever software they can get their hands on. The failure of not manipulating fonts and colors to balance your composition is indicative of the level of skill of the artist.

Can’t they think of anything else? Can’t they ask for shots from local photographers like the ones by Kieron Tan? Or at least use paintings by the current artists like Sanso or Luz. Or read up on foreign book designers like those of Chip Kidd? It’s saddening and disappointing. Why? Their mentality is parochial and insular. They live and thrive on their stupidity and ignorance which hinders their growth. Instead of looking for inspiration from the outside world or using foreign techniques, they are content to replicate their crappy covers.

I am not a graphic artist, but I can appreciate a well-made cover if I see one. And so can you. Why do you think Penguin always update new covers for old titles? Because they know people are suckers for good covers.

A caveat though. I’m not saying all book artists are like this. Some have great designs and should be applauded. The original covers of the Locsin versions of the Noli and Fili are great examples. What happened to the artist? That person should have more projects. The UP Student edition series of Pinoy literature like that of Batacan’s Smaller and Smaller Circles is a good example how to make a simple, balanced and presentable book cover. Also, a lot of children's books have spectacular cover art, many of which are resplendent in the full spectrum of the palette. It's a wonder why they are not being hired to make good covers for adult fiction.

Many coffee-table books have great covers but sadly most of these books have been designed and published by foreigners in Hong Kong (e.g. Periplus) or Singapore. Locally, only a handful of books can compare with their foreign counterparts.

Not all local books have been mutilated by crappy book designers but a lot of fiction still have mediocre covers. If publishers want to improve their sales, at least make their covers worth buying for. Why do you think many Filipinos patronize foreign authors if not for their covers alone?

Palparan's Song: "I've Got Them on the List"

I've Got Them on the List*

Palparan
As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list — I've got a little list
Of society offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed — who never would be missed!
There's the pestilential columnist who writes my epitaphs —
All people who have written me in acid paragraphs —
All students who are up-to-date, and say that I’m a rat —
All persons who in shaking heads, shake heads at me like that —
And all third persons who on spoiling all the fun insist —
They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

Chorus.
He's got 'em on the list — he's got 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed.

Palparan.
There's the village promenader who is walking out of place,
And the firebrand journalist — I've got them on the list!
And the people who sells fish and all who disappeared for days,
They never would be missed — they never would be missed!

Then the councillor who raises, with a condescending tone,
My terroristic bliss, but speaks silent of his own;
And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy,
Who thinks she has her civil rights. I’d like to see her try!;
And that singular anomaly, the lady activist —
I don't think she'd be missed — I'm sure she'd not he missed!

Chorus.
He's got her on the list — he's got her on the list;
And I don't think she'll be missed — I'm sure she'll not be missed!

Palparan.
And that red rebellion nuisance, who just now is rather rife,
The judicial moralist — I've got them on the list!
All witty fellows, comic men, and sleuths of public life —
They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed.

And leftist-leaning statesmen of a most tenacious kind,
Such as — What d'ye call him — Thing'em-bob, and likewise — Never-mind,
And 'St— 'st— 'st— and What's-his-name, and also You-know-who —
The task of filling up the blanks I'd rather leave to you.
But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list,
For they'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

Chorus.
You may put 'em on the list — you may put 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed!

* Sing to the tune of The Mikado's "I've Got A Little List" by Gilbert & Sullivan. The Mikado is a light operetta done in the 1880s. The lyrics are exactly the same from the operetta save for some poetic liberty this author took.

August Book Hunt

The rainy month of August heralds the joint bargain sales of Powerbooks and National Bookstore to which I could not control myself but give in to temptation. As they say, the pleasure is in the hunt. How true. These are my recent acquisitions:


Perfume (Patrick Suskind) [P245] – a scarce book that both stores do not carry. I found this sitting with other pricier editions inside Fullybooked and this Penguin Red Classics edition is the cheapest of the lot. Ever since Penguin Red Classics have been imported all the way from the UK, their cheap books are being highly sought after in Manila. Love in the Time of Cholera and Lolita were enjoying brisk sales because of its cheap prices and trendy covers, and now they’re gone. Suskind’s Perfume becomes that rare gem that juts out once in a blue moon. This promises a great engaging read especially that a German film of the same name is going to be released this year starring Dustin Hoffman and Alan Rickman.

Synopsis: “Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is abandoned on the filthy streets as a child, but grows up to discover he has an extraordinary gift: a sense of smell more powerful than any other human’s. Soon, he is creating the most sublime fragrances in Paris. Yet there is one odor he cannot capture. It is exquisite, magical: the scent of a young virgin. And to get it he must kill. And kill. And kill…”

Secret Histories: Finding George Orwell in a Burmese Teashop (Emma Larkin) [P219] – I read last year a favorable review of Larkin’s Secret Histories in one of the weekly magazines, either Newsweek or Time. That made the title stuck into my head until I found the same book in a National bookstore bargain bin. The condition was not as pristine I wanted it to be, but the first chapter was enough for me to buy it. I am always a sucker for any oriental-themed literature especially the ones that touched upon western colonialism which is probably why I enjoyed the works of Orwell, Maugham (Collected Short Stories) and Clavell (Asian Saga.) Secret Histories is essentially a travelogue-cum-social-analysis of a westerner traveling Orwell’s routes inside Burma while observing how Orwell’s Animal Farm, 1984, and Burmese Days are mirrored in the present day Burmese. So far, I have read Burmese Days and Animal Farm and a bit of 1984, so reading this will be familiar. This one is for the beach!

Synopsis: “In search of the inspiration for George Orwell’s uncanny prophecies, Emma Larkin follows in his footsteps. She finds his terrifying visions shockingly realized, an unwitting legacy that permeates the land of Secret Histories like its scents of betel nut and freshly brewed tea, and the sticky breezes of the Irrawaddy delta.”

Death and Restoration (Iain Pears) [P76] – While perusing the previously-owned book section of National Bookstore, I chanced upon Iain Pears’ mystery series. So far, I have only read his Instance of the Fingerpost and though it was a good historical novel, I was not really impressed. It was circumlocutory and redundant. But from the net, his other novels have netted good reviews because of their Dan Brownesque pace and mystery. Since I enjoy reading murder mysteries involving the finer things in life like art, religion and history, this may become an enjoyable read. I am keeping my fingers crossed, but for the price of a Jollibee meal, it’s worth it.

Synopsis: “General Bottando can’t believe his rotten luck. He’s just been promoted- to a position that’s heavy on bureaucratic duties but disturbingly light on investigative responsibilities. As if that wasn’t annoying enough, he’s received a distressing tip about a planned raid at a nearby monastery. He’s confident his colleague Flaviea di Stefano will be able to thwart the plot- but she and her fiancé, Jonathan Argyll, are beyond baffled. There’s nothing very valuable in the monastery’s art collection- except for a supposed Caravaggio that’s currently being restored. There are no solid suspects- unless you count the endearing art thief, the flagrantly flamboyant ‘Rotweiler of Restoration,’ and the strangely shady icon expert. And there’s really no reason to cause an unholy uproar- until someone commits an unconscionable crime…”

American Gods (Neil Gaiman) [P99] – I found this tucked inside the bargain bin of a Powerbooks branch. Though I am not a fantasy aficionado, knowing the fanatical popularity of Gaiman here in the Philippines means his works have great appeal among the Filipino teens and tweens. With a price like that for a P750 book, this might be a good introduction for me into his genre, and it would be cool if I will end up enjoying American Gods. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Just like his Sandman series, his American Gods promises another engaging and thoughtful read.

Synopsis: “Released from prison, Shadow finds his world upside down. His wife has been killed; a mysterious stranger offers him a job. But Mr. Wednesday, who knows more about Shadow than is possible, warns that a storm is coming- a battle for the very soul of America…and they are in its direct path.”

A House Burnt Asunder

From my journal:

"These past few weeks before the board exams, I could not help myself but weep in the privacy of my bathroom. No one's there to witness my breaking down. It is only now that I have felt the total loss of the death of my last remaining parent. It's a desperate emptiness, a hollow void, that pulls you down under wherein in every corner you try to hide and close your eyes, no magical change happens. The fact is this: the reality of their demise stays with you like a gut-twisting nightmare. Yes, it is a silent and personal nightmare where on the exterior all is well with the world, but upon introspection and reflection, the emptiness sucks you in. It is also a nightmare for no matter how much people sympathize with your plight, the truth is that they can't change your reality. No amount of words or promises can make the comfort of the past fill you up again. The emptiness clings, and it clings tenaciously.

I hate this feeling of the constant knowledge that my entire world has imploded on itself like a house of cards which I know there won't be any chance of making it whole again. Many of the things I hold dear are gone- the people before me, the security of hard-earned tangible assets, the family name I carry.

Now, the house my parents lived is but a shell of its former glory- much like the fall of the Buendia family in Marquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude." I know that there won't be Christmas parties at the front yard where the entire first floor is flooded with lights, the Christmas tunes being blared from a karaoke stereo and the tables filled with lots of fiesta food. There won't be afternoon meriendas on the balcony, or the sight of garden hoses cluttered on the lawn just before dusk. The comfort that one feels seeing that the rituals of the past are still being practiced, or that the people of your past (e.g. parents) are still alive makes the memory of home and family all the more important. When these are gone, the loss that we feel is devastating. For me, I can feel the palpable emptiness of knowing that they won't be with me in all my future milestones. I can't help but grieve at the thought they won't be around during my oath-taking.

Reality is cruel for it uproots you from your own self-designed delusion that a family is secured until everyone's hair turns white. But no, reality kills everyone off, and laughs at you telling you that the worst possible scenario can and will happen to you. It hacks you limb by limb until you feel you can't go on.

Rationalizing the situation does not solve anything, but only masks the emotional trauma by linguistic palliatives. At first you may say, "Hey that's right, I should not feel this way," but after searching your memory bank, every one of your reason flies out of the window leaving you groping in the dark with such emotional pain you can't ignore. For me, a lot of things has been stripped of hope and reason, but it's only faith in a higher being that's keeping me sane.

It's funny because days after mom's death, I could still joke and laugh fooling myself that she was just indisposed then, and that she'll come back sooner or later. The sense of loss is not felt right after the funeral, it strikes you when you feel most vulnerable. And it starts weeks, months, or even years after. That's why I do not believe that grief lasts for only a month.

Sometimes I just want to do a Gauguin, but that would be unfair to all their sacrifices that made it possible for me reach this far. Even it feels as if I want to chuck it all up, I have to go on for the sake of their memory."

Happy B-day Mom... even though you're up there looking down on us.

Amici di Estomago

Last tuesday, T and I bumped into an old friend from HS as we traversed the underpass along Paseo de Roxas in Makati. We thought it would be another duo food trip, but luckily, R. was there to liven up the dinner scene. We took a cab and headed towards this non-descript hole-in-a-school restaurant that people tout as Manila's best kept secret, the Amici di Don Bosco.

Amici is simple but people who go there do not mind the kitchy atmosphere and the canteen-like set-up because the main attraction there is the great authentic Italian pizzas and pastas and gelato. Most of its customers, we observed, are well-dressed moneyed citizens of Makati which is ironic because the place is located under the overpass along Arnaiz (Pasay) Avenue. I was expecting the SM food-court crowd but I was wrong, people really go out of their way just to order pizzas to go and gelatos for their hankering brood back home.

When we entered, T was ecstatic (read: jumping up and down)to see the varieties of gelato that she immediately dived into a chocolate scoop. I tried it and the I was blown away with the intensity of the flavor. It was rich, silky and soft, no ice bits clinging to the cream. I then chose mine Cheese flavor and the first scoop reminded me of the milky goodness of cheese with its sweet creamy texture spiked with tart pieces of cheddar cheese. Some might find it wierd to eat fromaggio gelato, but for me, this is the best- and no other ice cream brand can surpass Amici's in terms of quality and pricing. At P35 per scoop of quality gelato, who can resist? For those who have deeper pockets and only eat at Rockwell's Pazzo gelato, this is a great alternative.

We went back to our table and ordered our dinner. We decided on pasta. Not knowing what to get, we asked the cashier/clerk what are the recommended entrees. She ticked the Tagliatelle con Sici(something Sicilian), spaghetti ala don bosco and some other dish. We settled on the first one- home-made tagliatelle cooked in tomatoes, red wine, parmesan, and italian sausage. It was so satisfying that my tongue began to sing O sole mio, not! It was fantastic nevertheless. These are the pastas that are not found in commercialized knock-offs where their basic menu consists only of spaghetti bolognese and carbonara. Amici is the bomb! And the servings are good for two people. T barely finished hers, R was slow in his plate while I was feeling constricted after eating halfway.

We skipped on drinks, as usual, and settled on their fresh and priceless mineral water... yes, price-less meaning free. Because the place has that scholarly feel of being in a high school cafeteria, we were free to enjoy lounging about with nary a care towards our fellow foodlovers. Who cares about slouching in our seats and laughing to our hearts' content about high school faux pas? No ugly heads reared in our direction with their evil eye glaring at us. We had a great time catching up with old times.

After the meal, another round of gelato. T got some flavor which I forgot while I took away some cheese gelato. Just can't get enough. We egged R to try it but he passed saying he was too full to have a scoop of the cold delight. We stayed on for another 30 minutes before venturing out into the hell that is Manila. At least in Amici, the food will always be your friend, and that's their promise. And yes, with such food intake, I promised my porcelain bowl back home to meet another friend from Amici albeit in another form. Hah!

Other sites featuring this terrific discovery (w/ photos):
http://dessertcomesfirst.blogspot.com/2005/07/manilas-best-kept-italian-secret.html
http://www.tsinoy.com/blog/index.php?op=Default&Date=200502&blogId=31
http://anton.blogs.com/awesome/2005/07/amici_de_don_bo.html
http://justeats.blogspot.com/2005/08/amici.html

Molested By An Arab Donkey

No, it's not me. It's my friend R. She seemed to be a magnet for these sexually excited fellows everytime she ventures out at night. I'm not sure, but this time, it seemed serious enough that she pressed charges against this Arab donkey. (Sorry, that undesirable alien has no place in our country, and as such, he does not merit any respect from any Filipino- except from the refuse of society like those money-grubbing prostitutes in the throes of AIDS and naturally corrupt and lazy policemen who'll do anything to avoid doing anything.) There's one thing frustrating to see a foreigner abusing his way through Manila, and it's another to see your own fellowmen fawning over and accommodating this poor Arab-trash cum criminal.
This is his passport photo, so if you know him, please call GMA7 for a live interview.

Click on R's blog and read her harrowing experience of being molested by an Arab donkey (and how the stupid & corrupt police tried to cover it up):

R's Nightmare On Makati Avenue

Rizal on Penguin Classics

How cool can this be? Jose Rizal has now joined the pantheon of Classical author thanks to the Penguin Group of Publishers.

Jose Rizal's NOLI ME TANGERE

Elda Rotor, a Fil-American working at Penguin Books has this to say:

Monday June 19th is the birthday of Jose Rizal and I'm pleased to announce that NOLI ME TANGERE makes its debut as the first work of Filipino literature to be published in Penguin Classics. Harold Augenbraum, executive director of the National Book Foundation, wrote this new translation with an introduction and notes.

The book is available at the end of June. It is the 60th anniversary year of Penguin Classics, and I have just started as the new Executive Editor for the imprint. As a Filipino-American, I'm excited about this new publication and wanted to share it with all of you. Look out for the book, check out www.us.penguinclassics.com. Watch out for events in New York and San Francisco this summer and fall.

Personification of American Hegemony

Superman going around the globe from Manila to Italy to France saving people reeks of American Hegemony of global security. He is portrayed as the world's policeman, fireman, and one-man security force where everyone is beholden to him and utterly grateful to his Boy Scout acts. But still, it shows that an American Icon like Superman being on top of global affairs where he has influence over other sovereign nations makes me want to puke. Not only is he violating the air spaces of other countries, he is implying that other countries can't take care of themselves and are always in need of Superman.

Now, who the fuck asked Superman to save the world?
Who the fuck asked GWBush to save the planet?

These are the questions Superman must answer:
1. Why is he not classified as a Weapon of Mass Destruction?
2. Why did GWBush not tapped him in the Iraq-Afghanistan War?
3. May passport ba si Superman to go flying into other nations?
4. Why was Iraq or Palestine not mentioned in the areas where help is needed?

An Ubermenchen Review

We saw yesterday the brand new Superman movie at Glorietta 1. The place was packed to the gills with couples and families with restless children. Actually we sneaked into the adjacent cinema sans tickets because the first one was so jampacked and this was 10 minutes before the anointed schedule. So, like evil sneaks that we were, we changed cinemas and ended up with a couple of good positions in the center of the theatre.

The movie was good, the effects were superb, but Routh's acting was terrible to say the least. Strip him of everything that's heroic and you'll get an acting that's wooden and impassive. It was as if his entire face was injected with Botulinum toxin. Even Spacey's acting was disappointing for I was expecting more malevolence but all I saw was another Botulinum injected spiel. Bosworth was passable, wow, she has a large forehead, come to think of it. The only redeeming value of the movie was its deft atypical plot, the 21st century CGI effects and the heart-rending sound track. The music was fantastic, and really played to one's emotions. Acting aside, the whole flick was one hell of a ride!

Was the movie worth the P100 fee? Absolutely yes.
Is it good for repeat viewing? Damn yes.

Rating: 8/10

The Departure

The Departure

by: Julsitos

Let me kiss your cheeks one last time,
and feel the burning warmth of your shame,
for soon no one shall remember your crime,
the secret you bore in your name.

Let me embrace you one last time,
and forget the tears we shed before,
for soon none shall hear your song and rhyme,
when you're lying beneath the floor.

The Gasp

The Gasp

by: Julsitos

And I looked at her with awe and fear,
her lips, a gasping monotone,
for whether I love this creature here
is a conclusion now forgone.

SC Upholds "Live-In" Couples

I applaud at the Supreme Court's landmark decision to uphold "live-in" relationships depending on one's religion. With a vote of 9 pro-judges against 5 dissenters (with one abstaining), this reflects the high level of maturity of our Supreme Court system for it only upholds one's freedom of religion. It's only because our SC judges are wise enough to realize that a democracy like ours should never be retrofitted with narrow and baseless Christian mores. It should be "each unto his own beliefs" for one's marital practices may not apply to others. For instance, while Muslims are exempted from polygamy and concubinage, the rest will just have to tread Christian lines lest they want to go against the law. And what about Buddhists? Hindus? or Jehovah's Witnesses? Their beliefs cannot subserve to those of Catholics' but rather should be treated fairly and on a secular basis. I hope this will pave the way to more pro-choice decisions that will uphold man's basic and inalienable rights such as freedom of religion.

As as for SC Chief Justice Panganiban, shame on you for forcing your narrow Christian morals on others not of the same religion. Shame! But then again, that's why there was a need for a vote- so every decision will not be swayed by the opinion of one man.

The Taste of Youth

The famed foodblogger, MarketMan, has recently written in his website about the flavors of childhood. It is said that the foods enjoyed during our formative years carry itself the greatest memory. This is where your taste preferences were formed be it from your favorite ice cream flavor to your abhorrence to vegetables. Those tastes are carried well into adulthood, and each bite you take evokes the deep long memories that lay dormant inside the one’s brain just like a switch. While the connection between the faculty of language, memory and childhood has been scientifically studied, taste recall has not been well explored- and this is one field that might be of use to us in the future. For instance (this is just an anecdotal observation), children who were given vegetables during the early years will not be picky in their diet. Unfortunately, I was not one of those kids, so the foods that evoke deep passion within me are the sweets and those delicious junk foods. Well, too late to rewire, eh?

*steaming batchoy with 3 buttered toasts and cold coke with a straw, eating on the lanai looking afar to the lawn as the august rains poured…

*magnolia vanilla ice cream - i was forbidden to eat this brand of ice cream, but my grandma sneaks a pint into the fridge every now and then….

*butong-butong, kalamay-hati, hard caramel candies - my grandma usually buys them at the manug-libod (vendor) when she visits the downtown market

*inday-inday (palitaw with muscuvado dip), steaming pancit molo, pork bbq and rainbow-colored bread with cheese pimiento filling during childhood birthday parties…

*weird childhood food: toasted bread dunked in Coke!!! yum yum! Back then, i didn’t find it wierd. I do now.

Other junk foods...
*He-Man (orange colored cheeze puffs)
*She-Ra
*Enteng the Dragon (yellow-colored chicken-flavored puffs)
*Sunrise green peas snack (yung nakabalot sa foil)
*yema (those hard candies w/ yema centers w/ a toothpick *sticking on top & covered with pink cellophane)
*white rabbit candies
*CHIKININI!!! - forerunner of the boy bawang…
*camote-q being sold by vendors outside school…
*Bobot (a weird candy: peanuts coated in an M&M-like shell)
*Rin-bee? yung cheese stick snacks… meron pa ba nun?
*fishballs that cost P0.15 each!
*Ice Scramble (gee, what was I eating back then?!)

Never Never Lend

Nowadays, there's one pet peeve that irks me more than anything else and that is retrieving books from my friends. It's a hassle, that's why. And it should not be my obligation in the first place.

I usually let some of my friends borrow a volume or two from my collection in the hope of widening their reading preference. Encouraging your friends to read books for the sheer pleasure of it is a rewarding experience. It makes me feel somewhat accomplished. But what I hate is that 1) it takes months for them to finish a single one, and 2) they don't read it at all. Filipinos generally dislike asking people to return things, that's why it's just logical and prudent for the borrowers to return it as soon as they have finished it. But no, here, people just chuck the tomes into their shelves and forget about it and you, the owner, wait and wait for its "second coming". It's a paradox but it's reality.

What's more irritating is when you've follow-upped your friend to return it, that person delays the transaction for reasons ranging from non-reply to the Bermuda Triangle phenomenon. It's not funny and I feel they're taking my book hostage. That person would say, "Oh, I haven't finished reading it. I'm still at the first chapter." And I thought, "For three months now?" During that time, I just wished that the book will run away from that person's room and head back to my shelf where it belongs. It just shows how indifferent and disinterested these people are in reading your book. I think it's only right that if such a person cannot sustain his/her interest in finishing it, the only recourse is to return the damn book read or unread. Sad to say, in this ningas cogon country of ours, it does not happen.

Here's some solutions whenever your friends start forgetting what they've borrowed:
1. Text/Call them every week asking them if they've finished the book.
2. Remind them that your third cousin twice removed wants to borrow it.
3. Tell them that a lot of people finished it in one to two sittings, and that it's a shock for you to see that they can't do the same.
4. Inform them that a lot of readers' lives were changed after finishing the volume, and you'll help them change their lives if they don't finish it.

How to stop your friend from kidnapping your books:
1. NEVER LEND a single one. Too late for me to realize it.
2. Only lend those ratty editions that you're trying to dispose.
3. Lend them only the titles that you don't want to see again.
4. If you still let them borrow, ask them when can you expect it to be returned.
5. Lock your books in your fire-proof cabinet or bookshelf.

But the best answer is still: NO! Nein! Nunca! Non! Nyet!
Oh... that reminds me, I need to text my friend to remind her to return my Kite Runner.

Da Vinci Mode

The SM chain of malls is standing by their conviction of not showing Brown's Da Vinci Code movie in all of its outlets. They say, all R-18 movies (regardless of the merits of the film) will not be shown because it will "harm" the minds of the movie-going public on the basis of immorality and all those pharisaical inanities. From a businessman's point of view, this is not a very good strategy. Why? A highly anticipated movie since Harry Potter 5 + religious controversy + popularity of the novel = Box Office Hit.

Any self-respecting entrepreneur would milk Robert Langdon for all its worth just to spike up his/her flagging movie sales. But I guess the Sy's are more Pontius Pilate than St. Paul for they would rather show the world that their movie houses are "hands clean" from any vulgar immorality than to let the public decide for themselves as to what's good for them. Isn't that already the job of the stupid MTRCB- to play God with their "moralistic" index of forbidden movies criteria? It's a pity that for a thriller without any nudity or violence, it still garnered a severe rating of R-18 (the severest in the world.) I didn't realized that a movie which explores the origins of our Christian roots would be deemed as unsuitable for viewers under 18! This reeks quasi-censorship, is it not? However, in fairness to MTRCB chair Marissa Laguardia, she is right in saying:

"Those groups, like the conservatives who want it banned, maybe they can tell
their friends, discourage their friends from watching it but it has to be shown.
Otherwise we will be the only country that will not show this film. Thirty-six
countries have already reviewed this film and they have not banned it. So are we
just out of the Stone Age?"

Yes, we're more advanced than the Stone Age, because we're definitely in the Medieval Age.

They felt the film would "confuse" the faith of many. Hey, if your faith is like the mustard seed that remains small and undeveloped (thanks to your parents and the church), then, it's not Dan Brown's fault is it? If you change your mind about Catholicism after watching Sophie Langdon, then there's no one to blame but yourself.

Why? If you're really concerned with your faith and salvation, then you'll try to seek answers from definitive sources, mainly the Church and common sense. The Church says that it's fictional and trivial. Common sense will tell you that by having facts derived from Merovingian legends and concepts contrived by conspiracist theorists, the novel is not a reliable source for straying away from the faith. Yes, it does asks questions, but no one yet (not even the book) has provided sufficient and credible answers- just mere speculations and suppositions. The Church did not address the origins of its Gospels or the persecution of Mary Magdalene, and the "Grail" theorists did not put up credible documentary evidence supporting the "sacred female" something-something. It's akin in saying that the Egyptian pyramids and the Mayan pyramids were built by the same group of aliens. It's the same as saying that hidden religious meanings in Da Vinci's painting are connected to some pagan ritual of the Heiros Gamos. Connect the invisible dots, I tell you. But what's funnier is that there are real groups of people trying to stop the showing of the movie. Geez. They're just a bunch of Bible-toting, holier-than-thou, pseudo-virginal, sexually-deprived sleazebags who try to bring attention to their miserable existence. I say to them: Get a life. As to Dan Brown, close but no cigar.

The Best Da Vinci Code Review: http://www.bettybowers.com/davinci.html

Eulogy

Eulogy*
by Julsitos

Now I realized your footsteps gone
the unbearable silence of your absence felt,
the bed turned cold, my grief untold
as I see the end of your journey done.
How long in despair have I dwelt?

But you're free, free at last
to sleep in the embraces of the Lord,
His love shall comfort you
our love nourished you,
the thorns that pricked you now in its past
for this day you have earned your reward.

From your love, we shall never forget
we cherish and yearn for more than this
for our joys and tears, our hopes and fears
not once did we regret
for the love we shared, eternal bliss.

*delivered during the burial mass last Mother's day.

Grief

Grief
by Julsitos

Grieve not for the love that has departed
for theirs are with the Lord,
where love is never thwarted,
neither sullied nor distorted,
basking in the summer of their reward.

Grieve your tears for those who are left behind
for they remain on this earth
to feel the loss from time unkind,
with tears flow from memories pined,
hearing now the abscence of mirth.

Free

Free*
by Julsitos

At last you're free,
smile for the day is done,
where rest shall be your friend
with your journey at an end
the shackles of your heart now gone.

At last you're free,
free from the peering eyes of hate,
where the blossoms caress you
and the wind shall cleanse you
the smear that sullied you of late.

At last you're free
to think of lighter things
beneath the bluest sky
passed the clouds on high
where the joy of our Lord abundantly springs.

At last you're free
your eyes closed, you face at ease
with neither sadness nor pain
just sleep and sleep again
for where there's rest, eternal peace.

*poem for my mom who died April 25, 2006. painting by www.duyhuynh.com

SAKSI!

Thanks to US-published manga artist Jennyson Rosero, this clip shows how NOT to do a field report. Funny as it is, it doesn't bode well for the state of journalistic professionalism here in the Philippines. Because GMA (and ABS-CBN) focuses more on human drama and sensationalism, it reaps the fruits of ill-researched and subjective field reporting. Nonetheless, enjoy.

Myleene Klass

This Fil-Brit sensation is the toast of the Classical world in 2005. Although she is more known for her gigs in the British pop arena, classically-trained Myleene Klass branched out into the more refined and rigid classical genre. Based in the UK, this Avril Lavigne lookalike has earned a cult following for her exotic Eurasian look and her virtuosity with classical piano. I think she has even grazed the pages of British FHM. If Maxim is the male version, Myleene is the female counterpart. She has recorded her first album, "Moving On" which has gone gold and was nominated for an award in the UK classical scene. I have yet to hear her Moving On album, but suffice to say that her MTV in Classic fM TV looks stunning. Why don't we have a classical channel here????

Be blown away with her classical MTV as she play Bach's Toccata & Fugue (a short variation actually):
http://www.myleeneklass.co.uk/
http://www.myleeneofficial.co.uk/


At least now, we can have another half-Pinoy to be proud of. Yihee!

On Cutting In

A couple of days ago, I went to Handyman to get my dog some cheap dogfood. (Yeah, I know- dogfood in Handyman!) Since it was about 5 kg. heavy and the pushcarts were there for use, I placed the load in and went straight to the counter. There were about two customers lining up and it was taking the cashier forever to scan the prices. She must have forgotten the seminar on how to scan barcoded goods. In about five minutes of "happily" waiting for her to finish, a middle-age grey-shirted woman tried to cut in in front of me. Just because I give ample space between my cart and the next person doesn't mean it's her cue to cut in front of me. What I did next will surely light the torches of Abanse Pinay! (this women's lib group): I pushed my cart forward, thus, preventing her from sneaking her fat butt in!

Hey, I don't think it's misogynistic to assert your rightful place, is it? I waited in line, so I felt I deserve to be entertained first. It is logical albeit selfish. If I was not selfish, who will then look after me? No one. And besides, giving space for others, though altruisitic it may be, will not earn you brownie points in heaven. You can't say to St. Peter, "Though I murdered my entire family and spawned dozens of bastards during my lifetime, I made sure I gave up my seat to every beautiful lady I encounter." St. Peter will surely say, "Sorry, acts of pakitang-tao are not considered acts of charity. Try again!"

If I had let that woman cut-in in front, what good does it do to me? I don't think a warm fuzzy feeling of being a willing accomplice in aiding an injustice would suffice. Will I get that girl's number? No. Will I get a simple "thank you?" No. (She didn't ask in the first place.) Well, if she did ask nicely, I'd be rude not to let her in. So, if doing such an act cannot benefit the doer, then why bother doing it? Besides, she's fit as a cow to wait a few minutes more.

I realized that this can blow into a vitriolic discussion between chivalry vs. equal rights. I can hear hapless ladies yell, "How dare you, you arrogant prick to prevent us from using our charms to get our way!" Hahaha! All I can say is: "first come, first serve- unless you're in an emergency." And besides, it would seem unfair also for the rest of the customers who are waiting patiently behind me. By cutting in, you're being inconsiderate to others' time and patience. By cutting in, you are being self-serving and selfish and I hope you rot in hell.

The only persons I will give up my seat/place in line:
1. Old people
2. The Disabled
3. Pregnant women
4. Mothers with hellspawn children
5. Ladies with heavy bags
6. My family and friends

As for the rest, I can strongly suggest to use those two legs that God has given them. Else, they can whack them off and ride on a wheelchair, then, they can have my place.

DIE Haloscan DIE!!

A year ago, Haloscan.com was a promising entity that provides bloggers with free management of one's comment's space. But I've realized that all those musings by vistors and friends were entirely erased at a certain time- I don't know why but I find it frustrating to see that the effort of those who passed by has disappeared.

An apology from them won't make up for all the words of encouragement and intelligent quips I have learned to enjoy reading throughout the past months. Don't they know that half the fun of blogging is to see people rattled in their seats that they are compelled to comment? I realized that perhaps its a bit of an ego trip, but hey, it's part of the ride. Because I don't choose or restrict my blog topics, nor tailor them to the prudency of the masses, my writings then are not pressured to conform. Thus, it's nice to read people dropping by like friends visiting a house while commenting on your latest diatribe. That's why it's infuriating for me and insulting on the part of the commentors that this has happened.

I needed to cut my losses hence I reverted back my comment page to good reliable Blogspot.
*Sigh. Life. And by the way Haloscan, if you are reading this, I curse your money-grubbing NASDAQ-delisted company and I hope your stupid main office be burned to the ground due to electrical causes. I curse your President, may he be killed by AIDS while having sex with his dog. I curse your staff and personnel, may they get pustular boils on their nipples, varicose veins on their noses and Grade III internal hemorrhoids for the rest of their miserable whiny whiny stupid drop-out American white-assed lives. DIE!!!

Muesli on the Beach

This Holy Week, the whole Manila dung heap population will undergo a mass exodus to the provinces. The only objective of this unholy affair is to soak up the sun, splash in the turquoise waves and to voluntarily get skin cancer. That is what the Holy Motherly Church has been trying to tell our melanocytes: Go forth and multiply! Exchange your Small Cell Lung cancer for Squamous cell carcinoma! So, instead of kneeling in front of marble saints and reflecting on the Gospel of Judas, the Da Vinci Code and the Passion of the Christ, Manileños all go to Boracay, Cebu, Hundred Islands, Baguio and Mindoro to have fun, booze and party. I'm not sure Good Friday at Friday's in Boracay means singing the Pasyon, but I'm sure the scene is similar to a bad taping of Temptation Island.

Speaking of Boracay which is the epitome of an expat-packed beach, I can't help but wonder how people stomach non-native foods at such a locale. The beach itself is isolated from any urban center and getting to the island is not easy save for the rinky-dinky airport to bring in the goods. Thus, having Foccacia with Balsamic Vinegar and Olive oil under a Bahay-kubo or eating Pecan & Walnut Muesli in your two-piece or speedos is not only paradoxical and anachronistic but also surreal. I'd expect native Filipino foods like Inasal, Sinugba, Halo-halo, Sinigang, Pork BBQ, etc at the beach, but unfortunately due to international demand, this is not so. Expatriate culinary expertise and coño Manileños with the grungy backpackers make such a supply-and-demand situation possible, and these people just lap it up! If it's a matter of economics, then there's no quib about it, but if you look at it from a cultural standpoint, it's quite insulting on our part.

Why?

1. Though experts imply that having international cuisine on Boracay is a showcase of the "love" foreigners have for the island or of the vibrancy of the place, the argument also suggests how these foreign carpetbaggers cannot assimilate to Filipino cuisine. This is different with a Pinoy expat serving adobo and pinakbet in his LA turo-turo house. With Pinoys, we cater our soulfood to fellow Kababayan because we know there's a sizable Filipino population within the vicinity, and such a business is logical. But have you seen a Boracay Brit or Greek serving Filipino cuisine in their establishments? No, they would rather serve haggis, bangers & mash, and gyros than our liempo or lumpia. And it's not even fusion cuisine. They cook it just the way they do it at home. For whom? For the handful of their expat compatriots? Yes; them and everyone else.

As for us Pinoys, we lap it up because having muesli for breakfast or penne arrabiata for dinner is as exotic as the island itself. You won't find it in your corner-street in Manila. I bet you'd rather have bulgogi than bulalo, or eggplant parmigiana than tortang talong anytime you're in Boracay- all because you're on vacation. V-a-c-a-t-i-o-n. And if I was there, I'd do it to. We don't feast on it in Manila, so finding it cheap in Boracay and at such array is a unique experience. You can have a French breakfast, Greek lunch and Korean dinner every night. For some, it's more unique to have a lassi drink than a mango shake. Truly, it's more of an "experience" than your usual Pinoy fare. But that's a case-to-case basis. I like Japanese cuisine, but I'd rather eat it in a Japanese restaurant in Manila than in a pseudo-Bali Hai open beach restaurant where the decors are from Kalibo and the wasabi flown in from Tokyo. But some will digress.

The pointless point here is this: Why dish out foreign cuisine when your ingredients cannot be sourced easily? Why do foreigners eat the same food they make at home, when the purpose of a vacation is to get away from it all? It's like a Filipino who went to Paris and ended up eating adobo and sinigang by the Seine. Why cook it for a population that's over two-thirds local tourists? Pasalamat na lang sila na sanay ang lasang Pinoy sa foreign dishes like bratwurst (mmm tastes like Swift hotdog), meusli (mmm tastes like pinipig), crepes (mmm tastes like lumpia wrapper), vichyssoise (mmm tastes like Knorr sopas), or sashimi (mmm tastes hilaw!)

2. Many tourists are not interested in our culinary culture. They try some native dishes for a night or sample the local drinks for the "experience", but after the novelty wears off, their tongue forces them to revert back to their home cuisine. That is why you'll see hordes of grungy unwashed backpackers wolfing down waffles during the day and Korean lemmings gorging on kimchi (a winter dish) in the middle of summer. Whatever makes them happy (and open their wallets) is fine by me. As long they're spending their budget on the local economy, expat and otherwise, it's as good as them eating our native dishes. I just hope our food is the main come-on, and not their home cuisine. If you compare this to Kho Phi Phi in Thailand, many of the restaurants there serve Thai cuisine with a few continental dishes interspered in their menu. It's a rarity to see an establishment there solely selling Greek, British or Korean cuisine. That's to show how respected their foods are, so much so that foreigners just shut up and eat Pad Thai rather than whine about the lack of Blueberry waffles. Here, we prostitute ourselves too much and everyone's oblivious to it.

Our restaurant is famous for its delicious food of original salads, succulent
paninis, oversized sandwiches, crusty pizza, creamy risotto, famous pastas,
day-fresh seafood and tender and tasty steaks. This season, our Chef is cooking some original food specials: Fresh Goose Liver (Foie Gras), Duck Breast (Magret de Canard), Ostrich Steak, Lamb Shank, Sea Bass and Chicken roulade.

-Blurb from Friday's Boracay Website

Ahhhh..... I rest my case. Oy waiter! I'll have some foie gras and champagne to go with my sinigang!

Personified

Personified*
by: Julsitos

He was light personified,
He was truth personified,
He was faith personified,
He was peace personified,
He was compassion personified,
He was forgiveness personified
He was suffering personified,
He was dignity personified,
He was love personified,
For Christ is love,
He is,
Thus,
Christ personified.

* A Tribute the 1st year Death Anniversary of Pope John Paul the Great.

Bibliositis

While my sister and mother always tell me that they feel the urge to defecate once they enter a bookstore, I on the other hand want to take up residence inside. One, bookstores are a veritable trove of literary treasures waiting to be rediscovered and most of these have bargain bins where you can find a rare gem. And for those who have the mongoose instinct of digging up things, looking under a mountain of discounted volumes is a strong motivation. However, some people's pleasurable obsession for hunting books can transform into what I'll call "Bibliositis."

Bibliositis is the inflammation of the satiety center in one's hypothalamus and symptoms are characterized by a sudden onset of manic euphoria, tachycardia (rising heatbeat), salivation and phalangeal tremors, all precipitated by the sight of bargain books and aggravated by more bins of discounted books. This is followed by book-induced nystagmus, the disappearance of any self-control, and loss of temporal consciousness. Depending on the susceptibility of the patient, the inflammation usually ends with gradual depression after paying for the books, and chest tightness if he/she sees that the book is a dud.

This psychosomatic disorder is prevalent among high-school and college graduates, more in females than in males, and seen among bloggers and pop culture reviewers. Personal history includes personal libraries in patient's homes. Family history includes other family members afflicted with Bibliositis.

Currently, there is no definitive cure for Bibliositis. Only constant observation and counselling are recommended at this stage. Electric shock therapy is presently being researched as a Bibliositic cure at the National Institure for Mental Health, but so far, test subjects have only shown to exhibit adverse reactions like coprolalia and dyslexia. The Philippine Medical Association is appealing to Book Sale and Powerbooks to put up warning signs on their shop's entrances and on their cashiers, but they have yet to receive the shop's formal response.

This lifestyle disease has struck several bloggers as of late like Jessica Zafra in her latest entry, blogsite of Gigi Goes Gaga, and even John Nery, an editor of Philippine Daily Inquirer.

The question is: Do you have Bibliositis??

Literary News:
1. Powerbooks is having a warehouse sale on March 16-April 1, 2006; 10am to 7pm at # 25 Brixton st. Capitol Subdivision, Pasig City. If you are coming from Shaw blvd., take a left turn to Reliance st. then turn right to Brixton st. (it's the street parallel left to Pioneer st.). there is a BIG Powerbooks signage at the gate. More bargain books, bigger discounts!

2. Find of the Year:



Penguin's "Red Classics" offers a fairly good range of old and modern classics at a reasonable price. While these are being sold in the UK at its original price, here in Manila you can avail of a copy at Powerbooks for 60% off the calculated price and 20% more if you buy it during weekend sales. If you'll compare them with other editions of the same title, more often than not you will be surprised at how expensive others are. For example, Penguin's "Bridge of San Luis Rey" costs only P220 ($4.40) on regular days and P180 ($3.60) during sales. That against Perennial Classics edition which costs more than P800 ($16), it's still a steal. But if you can find one under BookSale's jungle of used books, then so much the better.

Only In Bacolod 1

In one of the netforums, my debate on the my beloved hometown Bacolod went like this:

Isn't it awkward when you enter a restaurant all heads turn to you because everyone's brains are scanning their who's who registry as to who this person is? And when someone recognizes you, you go to their table and do the aristorcratic routine of exchanging pleasantries. "Uuuyy.. amiga, maniaga ka di? Sino upod mo??" Beso. Beso. or "Migs! Kaon ka upod sa amon!" That's why it's acutely embarrassing to eat alone in Bacolod cuz people around you are speculating what's wrong with you.

Isn't it funny that even with the nice sidewalks and near accessibility of everything in Bacolod, people still prefer to ride their cars or the jeepneys? It's as if people are embarrassed to be seen walking down North Drive or Lacson. Perhaps we're afraid that a car will stop by, its windows drawn down wherby your classmate will say, "Nagalakat ka haw? Waay salakyan? Upod ka na lang!" Sige nga, tell me if you have strolled the sidewalks of uptown Bacolod! (nevermind downtown)

There's no argument about the cleanliness and the infrastructures of Bacolod. These are static features, unlike Bacolenos who can either be a blessing or a curse. We're like a two-sided coin that if you attend our aristocratic soirees and inumans, then you'll be on our good graces, but if you've made a huge scandal or social faux pas, you'll have to expect the full brunt of humiliation. Not true? Well, tell that to the rich girl who was in Bacolod scandal where everywhere she went, she can hear people murmuring "Namit gid!" (her line in the sex scandal) Do I need to say more?

Then, some of the comments that followed were: (names altered)

C: hahaha...i find it very true...especially that beso-beso thing in a restaurant...

D: I eat out at least once a day and most times I eat alone either at Bob's, Pendy's, or some other restaurant. I don't mind eating out and I don't mind if they look at me for a minute. It all depends on you, whether you will allow other people to get to you. I also walked a lot to and from school. In fact, I'd rather walk if my car is being fixed than take a jeepney. I don't mind walking. It doesn't mean I'm any less than anyone else. And I'm not aware of people stopping to say condescending things. In fact I don't find anything wrong with "Nagalakat ka haw? Waay salakyan? Upod ka na lang!". In fact I do stop in the proper manner if I find a classmate on the street - except for smokers that is - because I would rather share my ride with them. I think it is indeed a good thing for people to be mindful of how everybody else is behaving just so that everybody would behave well. In fact I find Bacolenos to be better behaved than the rest of the country. The only Bacolenos that complain of Bacolod's "small town mentality" are those who have committed a "social faux pas". Bacolod is indeed a competitive society - which is good for keeping everybody in their proper and best behaviour. As for that lady, it was her fault in the first place.

The reason why I have a hard time finding Filipino friends where I'm at because most of the Tagalogs here are so ill-mannered. Last Christmas, I invited some of my colleagues to a Christmas presentation at church and I found their behaviour very, very, very, embarrassing. One grabbed a British kid just so he could have a picture taken with Westerners... he could have simply asked in a nice way and I'm sure the kid would have agreed. The other started asking a South African how much his salary was...another sign of ill-breeding. Still another brought home some church property as a souvenir.

C: I think (the author) only wants to point out how the "lower-class" would think about the "snobbish", the "elegance", the "fine" manners and attitude of bacolod's high society...

D: I don't think it is the lower class that would be complaining of the "small town mentality" of Bacolod. I think, that those who had been behaving badly are the ones who are complaining about the "gossipy titas" and hypocrisy that they think pervades Bacolod's society. I only know of two people who are complaining about this - also because of their own fault. One grew up in Manila and behaved differently - earning the ire of close relatives. The other, dated too many women that people started talking about him. My lower midddle class friends have no complaints as they have a different set of friends. But even then, because they do have a few upper class friends, they have learned to behave properly.

So I said:

I'm not arguing about the social ignorance of other Filipinos. I can't comment on the upbringing of Tagalogs or Cebuanos, but I'm sure they're raised in the best and decent way possible. Most Bacolenos are indeed well versed in the "oro plata mata" style of delikadesa and propriety. Kiss your tita-tits, I tell you! The lower middle class cannot break into the social glass ceiling imposed by the rich, that's why they don't have hang-ups with the everyones who's who registry, family trees, and social faux pas. For instance:

Rich boy: (Castilian accent) Mama! I'm going out with some friends to a party tonight at Bar21.
Rich mother: (Bastardized Basque accent) Really hijo? Who are you going with?
Rich boy: Ah, with my classmates Carlo and Paolo.
Rich mother: Do I know them hijo?
Rich boy: Umm... I think so. Carlo is the only son of Agustino Valdezayco and his mom is Felicita, you know the consultant at PNB.
Rich mother: Ah yes hijo! Now I know. She's the cousin of my good amiga, Meredith Gastolacson. I should invite her to play mahjong soon. How about Paolo? Who's child is he?
Rich boy: He's the son of Mr. and Mrs. Taculing.
Rich mother: (blank stare for 10 seconds) ahhh... really now. His dad works where?
Rich boy: His dad is a college professor at LCC, architecture I think. His mom works in city hall.
Rich mother: (another 10 seconds of stupefid look) ahhhh.... I see. Well then, don't be late, hijo. Oh, don't forget you have an afternoon flight tomorrow to Brussels for your CISV trip!

"The other, dated too many women that people started talking about him." I'm sure the whole city too.

As to your wonderful hypothesis that only those who have incurred social debts and faux pas are the ones who complain, don't you also mean that those bacolodnons who are regulars in Bar21, North and other watering holes of the la buena familias who always burn their elbows from partying don't have any problems at all? I'm sure the comments they hear are: "How's your papa, hijo? Has your tita soledad arrived from Europe?" or "Pre, kadto ta sa punong ni tito Z, may clan reunion!" ( Pare, let's go to the prawnfarm of uncle Z cuz we have a clan reunion!") and never "Ay! Ara ang bata ni X. Amo na sya ang nagso-and-so kay Y. Merece!!" (Oh! There's the child of X. He's the one who did kwan to Y. He deserves it!)

For instance:
Two amigas eating in Bob's Restaurant...
Amiga 1: (whispering) Huy Soling! Look who just came in! (Lips pursed while pointing to the direction of the door)
Amiga 2: (whispering) OMG. It's Diego! He must have snucked in from LA. No one told me that he'll be arriving today.
Amiga 1: Me neither. ... (Blanching!) Look! He saw us! He's coming this way!
Amiga 2: Ok. Let me handle this.
Diego: Oh, hello tita Carmen. Tita Soling. It has been a while since I've seen you two. I just arrived in Bacolod. (Beso-beso)
Amiga 2: (fanning herself) Oh! ha-ha-ha Diego. Nice to see you again. How's things in LA?
Diego: Oh it was fine. My skin treatment in LA went well. Dad knew of a specialist who deals with this, and he's great. Anyway, twas nice to see you both in good health. I'll leave you two, I'll just say hi to my cousins at the other booth.
Amiga 2: Ok hijo. Oh, do come and visit us this Friday. Bring your cousin Pilar too. I have something to give her then. (Diego sauntered off to the other booth)
Amiga 1: (whispering harshly) OMG! His skin, his albino skin hasn't improved a bit. It's a pity that with all his pork-gotten money Cong. Monivilla wasn't able to cure it here and had to send him to LA.
Amiga 2: Hmmph! (fan closed abruptly.) Let me tell you something. Ruel (Monivilla) sent that boy to LA not to have a skin treatment, but because he discovered the boy had an affair with their driver! (triumphant look)
Amiga 1: (shocked look) Dios de mi alma! Are the rumors true that Diego prefers the other side then?
Amiga 2: My lips are sealed amiga. You think what you want to think. If my husband was in politics though, I'll make sure to keep any dirt as far away as possible. C'mon, let's get the chit and go to Melinda's house. She'll get a kick when she finds out who we saw at Bob's!
Amiga 1: Oh yes! I'll call call Lourdes too. At least there's something fun going on in Bacolod other than to hear about utangs ni X or querida ni Y.

As they would say, "Familiarity breeds contempt" and with Bacolenos penchant to be familiar with everybody's affairs, we are indeed a contemptible lot. My point is this: Bacolod is such a small town that everyone's family tree (bastard or not) is known, every utang is exposed, every ugliness is noticed and every mistake is amplified through the social grape vine. It's insidious and embarrassing. What your tita-tits tell in front of you may not be the one she tells to her amigas. It may not apply to you but I have seen during my stay some people being talked about because of their mistakes right in the middle of Bob's or Calea. Then, how can one redeem his-/herself in this society? As for the girl in the sex scandal, she did what she thought was best for her: to ditch Bacolod for Manila. Good for her!

Sometimes, I feel it's better to go and live in Manila just to appreciate the fact that you can go to Glorietta without bumping anyone, or go to Rob with your special someone without a relative accosting you to divulge your friend's biodata, even going to malls na nakatsinelas. In bacolod, everyone dresses up to sevens just to watch a movie!!! Jus go to Rob and see people in their sunday's best bedecked with brillantes that can blind you. "La mona en seda, mona secada." But I have to admit, people in Negros have style and knows how to carry themselves.

But ultimately, it's always nice to go back to Bacolod and spend vacation there. Only vacation. and maybe retirement. Life is so good in Negros and much better than Manila. Even I have some bad quips about my hometown, I'll still go back and live there.

Cornball Review

A good friend brought some caramel corn last week. It looked like one of those US made gourment popcorns heaped into a tub. Well, the label says "Chef Tony's Popcorn", a product that is not available in any supermarket from my experience, so it seemed that my friend sourced this somewhere else.

I opened the tub and corn greeted me with its golden sheen of fine uncoagulated caramel. It has to be gourmet. Each kernel was distinct and entirely coated with a thin layer of goodness. Far from the commericalized cousins like Fiddle Faddle, Peacock, Goldilocks and Nuts'n'Pops, Chef Tony's is in a class by itself. I did not see clumps of corn sticking to each other.

I took half a handful and popped several into my mouth. The taste was sweet as one would expect with caramel, but not so sweet that it would make your head spin. Since there was no globs of hardened caramel jutting from the corn, I did not have the usual experience on crunching on sugar, which was a relief I tell you. As my tastebuds got acquainted with the flavors, a blast of saltiness shot from the corn and melded into the caramel producing a very unique experience. The taste was like that of kettle corn but with more body and character. After the coating has disappeared, the kernel practically melted in my tongue leaving a soft buttery taste. My glands went overdrive as the salivary floodgates were opened and gushed into my palate. Pure bliss.

I wasn't able to resist popping another batch into my already anticipating maw. The weird thing was, I was fast becoming addicted to it with my mind saying, "just one more bite won't hurt." After watching my daily dose of MadTV, the bucket was nearly halfway through. I didn't know I had been eating the damn thing non-stop for 30 minutes. Oh, well.

The label did not indicate that this popcorn can be highly addictive! As I looked more closely, there was a phone number for customers who would like bulk orders. It had to be toll free in the US. I thought,"Hey, wait a minute. The number starts with 0917?? Isn't this a Globe number?" It was. And "Chef Tony's" is a local product! Yahoo! After a while, I called the source and they happily provided me with the info on where to buy the stuff, and that means more happy days to come.

You can contact Chef Tony's at 0917-500-CORN.

The Smile

The smile that escaped her withered lips
forced up by miseries untold
quivered slightly as my eyes unveiled
her wrinkled lips cracked from the cold.