Yet Another "13-1" Game

Only this time*, after the final buzzer, we were the ones with 13 wins.

I did not expect to be at the game last Saturday, since getting tickets proved to be much more difficult than getting a pair for the Eraserheads reunion concert. But, it pays to have friends who regularly watch all the games. I got a call three hours before the game, a few minutes before Tax class, that one Upper B ticket was available. I arrived at the venue with the Eagles leading the Pepsters 16-6. Ateneo never trailed.


Go Ateneo!

---
* In 2002, DLRT had a 13-0 record going into its last elimination round game against Ateneo. Suffice it to say that there was no sweep that season.

Photo courtesy of the Ateneo Sports Shooters.

Rock the Night Nostalgic

"we prepared 3 sets. the first was just a warm up. the remaining two was going to be the fun part."

- Raymund Marasigan

Through 15 songs, which every single person in the venue apparently knew by heart, Ely, Marcus, Buddy and Raymund - collectively known as the Eraserheads - drove more than 20,000 people into fits of delirious excitement and nostalgia last Saturday at the Fort in Taguig. For the first time since the greatest Filipino band ever broke up because of "height differences," amid chants of "group hug" from the all-too-happy crowd, the Eraserheads - all four of them - are back together and performing once again - even if only for one night.

The anti-climactic ending notwithstanding, I believe everybody, with cellphone or camera on hand, who sang, and danced, and swayed with almost everybody else, had the greatest time ("Alapaap" alone, as far as I'm concerned, already covered the ticket price). There were no front acts and no segues, it was one song after another, and you want to keep on asking for more. If anything, the people at the venue can now only wonder what the second set would have been like, after experiencing the first.

Or, we can all look forward to the second reunion, instead.

The set list:

I

Alapaap
Ligaya
Sembreak
Hey Jay
Harana
Fruitcake
Toyang
Kamasupra
Kailan
Huwag Kang Matakot
Kaliwete
With a Smile
Shake Yer Head
Huwag Mo Nang Itanong
Lightyears

II*

Maskara
Poorman’s Grave
Torpedo
Trip to Jerusalem
Back2me
Maselang Bahaghari
Maling Akala
Tikman
Spolarium
Magasin
Para sa Masa
Overdrive
Pare Ko
Minsan
Huling El Bimbo

---
* After the word went out the Ely Buendia was okay and in stable condition after playing a whole set during the Reunion Concert last [Saturday], the three Eraserheads, musicians in the audience, and music scenesters alike converged at Saguijo in Makati for an impromptu jam containing the songs of the aborted second set. - Philmusic.com

Ang Muling El Bimbo

Ligaya

Eagles Win

. . .

tiu suffering from cramps 1:33
salamat for tiumarcy wins the tip
marcy missd fb
espiritu putback and fould by rabeh
54-57 ue
espiritu 0-1 ft
salamat rb 1:21
buenafe fould on drive 1:11
buenafe 1-2 ft
55-57 ue
baclao bounces ball off ue player 1:07
rabeh fould by espiritu 1:01 penalty
rabeh 2-2 ft
57-57 1:01
ue bad pass 35 sec
buenafe drive on triple team
59-57 admu
timeout 21 sec
espiritu missd drive
baclao rb 6 sec
zamar pf on baclao penalty
baclao 2-2 ft
61-57 admu
salamat steal
end of overtime


rabeh 19 pts 11 rebs 1 steal
nonoy 10 pts 13 rebs 3 blocks

---
live updates courtesy of www.bask3tball.com.
photo courtesy of the Ateneo Sports Shooters.

I am Ninoy

I am a hero.
I do what I believe is right.
I do what I believe is good.
I fight for justice.
I fight for freedom.
I am a hero.
In a big way, in a small way.
In my own way.
I am a hero.
I am Ninoy.

---
For more information, visit I AM NINOY.

It's Time To Add Another Stripe*

---

* courtesy of Rick Oliveros

Signs of the Times

On the way from Katipunan to the ULTRA for yesterday's game against the NU Bulldogs, we saw a sign painted on a pedestrian overpass proudly saying:

SIGE, PASIG. SIGE PA.

I am actually ambivalent as to whether this is simply a cheap attempt by the Pasig city government to emphasize its use of the letter "E" in its slogan, or a magnificent marketing ploy to promote its most (in)famous industry (No, it's not retail).

What's next? Here are a few suggestions:

GANYAN, PASIG. GANYAN.

BILISAN MO, PASIG. BILISAN MO PA.

MALAPIT NA, PASIG. MALAPIT NA.

For any more suggestions, please contact Pasig City Hall.

Last Song Syndrome

Di ka na mababasa ng ulan
Di ka na mababasa ng ulan
(Di na, di na, di, di, di)
Mababasa ng ulan
(Di na, di na, di, di, di)
Mababasa ng ulan
(Di na, di na, di, di, di)
Mababasa ng ulan
(Di na, di na, di, di, di, di, di, di)

The lines above came from what is probably the most stupid song I have heard since Mirahel's vomit-inducing attempt at tragicomedy was released sometime ago (it was also PCSO's highly successful attempt to irritate Filipinos to the point of suicide). While Mirahel's music (this is me being generous) was pounded, everyday, on every Filipino who watched TV, I had the misfortune of hearing this one, for the first time, on the way to the office on a cab ride from Diliman. I thought the music was familiar, and before I realized it, I think the driver was lucky that, at that moment, I did not have a gun on my hand.

These days, a cab ride from Diliman to Makati will expose you, not only to the unimpeachable solutions of cab drivers to this country's ills, but sometimes, also to free legal advice from a UP Law professor, and to free medical advice from an old woman sounding really dead-bored while talking to her guest MD that day. If you are really lucky, you will find a amiable cab driver who likes music, and you get to enjoy the music that sells to the Filipino, right now.

Apparently, this shit sells right now. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with people who write these songs, but I thought I had heard the end of it with Sumpa Ko, which is nothing but an uber-literal translation of, you guessed it, All 4 One's I Swear. But of course, life is full of disappointments. Something which unfortunately (this is me being sarcastic) hit Mirahel after their widely-seen PCSO ad, and which hopefully will soon embrace whoever unleashed this horror upon an unsuspecting public. God willing, those sick bastards never will be seen or heard from ever again.

(I feel I have to make a disclaimer right now. The Visayan version of Low that is hitting the airwaves - Butete - is cool. In fact, it is so cool that a friend of mine, an Ateneo College instructor and UP law student - ranked 8th in his class - has committed its lyrics to memory. "Diay kadtu makahilow low low low low low low . . .")

Decapitated Fowls

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

- Walt Whitman, O Captain! My Captain!

Wanted: Tubero

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, was a little hamlet where 16 silly and very unfortunate people lived. The kingdom was ruled by four wicked witches (five, actually, but no one in the hamlet, took the fifth one seriously), any one of which, by comparison, by most people's estimation, will make Dolores Umbridge look like a charming, old lady. This early, their fledgling reign of terror may have already surpassed the magnitude of horror and sheer evil of all those which came before.

The first witch is not new. The silly people from the hamlet has had her as administrator before, and each and every one of them was her biatch at some point. Some were eventually exiled. Some ran away. Most decided that they can probably just humor the bitch and let her be. No one knows to this day whether that worked or not. Those who ran away came back after a few years, after finding out that resistance is, ultimately, futile. Mercifully, the gods decided that the hamlet has had enough suffering from the periods past, and reduced the scope of duties of the first witch, such that the hamlet will not be reminded of Madonna, as often as before.

The second witch was born when all the hate in the world was for the taking, and everyone else but her was perfectly sound asleep. She took all the hate - ALL - that the world can give, and kept it all for herself. A great majority of that hate has settled on her ass. That burden, has disfigured her face forever - cursed never to smile again until the end of time.

The third witch is confused and is confusing. She hates all things with little dongs swaying in the wind. She is most definitely a narcissist, and also appears to be a psychotic sociopath whose episodes can be as confusing as her gender. She tries to make her subjects at ease, that is, until one of her episodes kick in, and tell you matter-of-factly, that she'll have your head chopped off by sundown.

The fourth witch appears to have a life outside the coven. She had a husband and a child long before she became a wicked witch. She looks happy, and at the beginning, may have tried to stoke fear into the hearts of her silly subjects. The people are not yet sure as to whether they will love her or hate her, but they are not (yet) trembling from fear of pain and suffering, upon hearing her footsteps. She appears to be quite a reasonable witch, but the hamlet has been wrong before.

The hamlet, is now wondering, "what the fuck is wrong with the first three witches?" Is it in the water? Is it in the plumbing? Maybe the plumbing no longer works, and water no longer flows through the pipes. Who knows?

Rumor Mongering

The rumors are true.

They are back.

Even if only for one night.


I wish I could go back to those fairy book tales
Forget the real world awhile
And seek the seas of the talking whales
A place of wishing wells and magic spells
Where everything starts out once upon a time
Long, long ago and ends happily ever after

- Wishing Wells

Res Ipsa Loquitur

Lucky Charm

Ateneo won all three games that I watched live from the Big Dome's Upper Box section against La Salle last year. The Eagles also lost both games that I watched from my bed at home. Being the rational man that I am, I have come to the conclusion that I have to watch the game live, if the Blue Eagles would have any shot at winning their games.

That theory was promptly dismissed last night, after Ateneo beat the living organic fertilizer out of DLSU, 79-73 (OK, that was biased), when I was five MRT stations and one jeepney ride away. While the result admittedly deprived me of an irrational basis to blackmail my ticket-toting friends (which never worked anyway - so much for team spirit), I'd always take an Ateneo win against La Salle (or Al Salle as some cheerleaders spell it) any day.

Next up: Adamson, which has not, incidentally, won a UAAP game against Ateneo since the Erap administration.

---

Image courtesy of the Ateneo Sports Shooters.

How Sulpicio Lines Arrived at a Decision to Sue PAGASA

Manny Pacquiao and the Boston Celtics

If you suddenly thought the Pacman can now play center for Team Pilipinas, you might want to check his height again after he steps down from whatever it is he was standing on.

But, who the fuck cares? These are the Boston Celtics, baby. The Boston freaking NBA champions Celtics!

There Really was a Real Power Plant Here Before

It took all of two weeks for me to figure out a routine for all the Saturdays, for the next five months - go home, pick my wife up, and kill time at the Power Plant Mall. Whereas before, when I usually spent the late afternoon and early evening after Malcolm sleeping soundly, only to wake up hours later to watch TV and play NBA Live; so far this semester, we were able to catch two films in the last three weeks (Kung Fu Panda and Incredible Hulk) - that's already two more movies than last semester, when we mostly watched movies at home, courtesy of our enterprising brothers from the South (no, I do not mean Alabang).

I wasn't able to see Get Smart last Saturday, but I was able to ogle see Michelle Madrigal instead. I also saw a Philippine Idol finalist and his Viva Hot Babe girlfriend (who, according to Weng, is expecting), and one of Da King's progeny and her rumored boyfriend - a Senator's son, whose family's propensity to reproduce is quite notorious in these parts. I was not starstruck, mind you - since we started spending most of our free time at the nearest, least-crowded mall near our place, you'd always almost expect to see someone famous (for whatever reason) at the Power Plant. I could make a list here but I won't. But, I have to say that Dolphy is on that list. Come on. You have to acknowledge the man.

But, yeah. Michelle Madrigal was hot that Saturday.

Since Weng didn't want to relax and see a movie, she spent her time over at the mothership - Kamiseta - instead, whose rule of no fitting whenever there is a sale, still does not make any sense to me, up to this very day. I spent time browsing at Fully Booked and Bufini, and came up with a mass-market paperback copy of John Grisham's second football novel (Playing for Pizza will only be the second Grisham book I have ever read, the first being Bleachers), which title, according to amazon.com, will be released on mass-market paperback format on July 22, 2008; and the June 9 and June 16 issues of Sports Illustrated. I know the Celtics already won, but I am a creature of the 80s. Short of bringing back new wave music, I believe I am, at least, entitled to reminisce.

I'm Moving to Japan

Ready on the Right?

Definition

Board and Lodging, n.. see Ransom.

Nothing Left to Lose

Shadow Reads The News Today, Oh Boy

Any NBA fan born before 1980, takes one of two sides: the Lakers or the Celtics. If you were introduced to the NBA before bald heads, tats, and baggy shorts, back when Michael Jordan was just a brash, skinny kid who could really jump, you would think that in this league, only the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics matter.

Not without reason. During the 1980s, the Lakers and the Celtics won eight NBA titles between them (Lakers - 80, 82, 85, 87, 88; Celtics - 81, 84, 86). They played for the title three times (84, 85, 87), with the Lakers winning twice. Each team had one of the two best players in the league - LA had Magic, Beantown had Bird. The other players were not too shabby either: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, James Worthy, Robert Parish, Kevin McHale.

Both franchises fell into the pits after both Bird and Magic retired. The Lakers won three more titles with Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant, but tomorrow will be the first time, in more than 20 years, that these two old rivals will play for the trophy once again. This time it will be the Lakers' Bryant and Pau Gasol going up against the Celtics' Big Three of Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce and Ray Allen.

* * *

My Modern History professor (God bless his soul) at the Ateneo was an old American Jesuit. He taught history as if he were simply recalling what he himself witnessed just the day before. History according to Fr. Leonard was like a first-hand account. He was already old at the time, and it wouldn't surprise me if someone told me today that the old man was really there at the Battle of Verdun.

I remembered him last night after I heard the news that Barack Obama has clinched the Democratic Party's nomination for US President. In one of his classes, Fr. Leonard told us how he never imagined that he would still be alive to see the fall of the Berlin Wall and the fall of Communism (specifically, the Soviet Union). Well, I lived to see the day that one of the two predominant political parties in the United States nominated an African-American - "a skinny kid from the south side of Chicago" - for President. Come November, we might also very well live to see the day that an African-American is elected President of the United States.

Quote of the Day

"No disrespect to Kyra Sedgwick, but that damn boy Kobe Bryant is The Closer."

- Analyst Charles Barkley using the name of TNT's popular television drama to describe Bryant's ability to make critical plays

Here We Go Again

July 5 - Araneta Coliseum
2 PM - ADU vs FEU
4 PM - UE vs UST

July 6 - Araneta Coliseum
2 PM - UP vs NU
4 PM - DLSU vs ADMU

July 10 - Ultra
2 PM - NU vs UE
4 PM - ADMU vs ADU

July 12 - Ultra
2 PM - UP vs UST
4 PM - DLSU vs FEU

July 13 - Ultra
2 PM - ADU vs NU
4 PM - UE vs ADMU

July 17 - Ultra
2 PM - FEU vs UP
4 PM - UST vs DLSU

July 19 - Ultra
2 PM - UP vs ADMU
4 PM - DLSU vs NU

July 20 - Ultra
2 PM - ADU vs UE
4 PM - FEU vs UST

July 24 - Ultra
2 PM - DLSU vs ADU
4 PM - UE vs UP

July 26 - Ultra
2 PM - UP vs DLSU
4 PM - UE vs FEU

July 27 - Ultra
2 PM - ADU vs UST
4 PM - ADMU vs NU

July 31 - Ultra
2 PM - UST vs NU
4 PM - FEU vs ADMU

August 2 - Araneta Coliseum
2 PM - ADU vs UP
4 PM - DLSU vs UE

August 3 - Araneta Coliseum
2 PM - NU vs FEU
4 PM - ADMU vs UST

Heroes Returns

Reboot

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry."

- J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

With the looming end of summer break, and the onset of another semester at Malcolm, I am about as prepared to go back to my "normal" routine, as I am excited to hear the word "discombobulating" in Evidence class.

The summer went well. I was able to finish most of the things I set out to do after Civpro finals, to wit: have seven teeth filled (one tooth has undergone endodontic therapy, otherwise known as a root canal), bring my wife to her PT sessions (check: she can now walk without the aid of crutches or a cane), finish De Quiros' book (one speech left to read), attend an outing (the Laguna scandal was well documented by Pekto at Youtube), and plan a trip (still working on it). For the past two months, I have been coming in late at the office - much later these past few days, because the first four working hours and live coverage of the NBA Conference Finals just happen to coincide. It's not even a tough choice. And no, it does not bother me.

News that he-who-must-not-be-named will regularly see us again promptly welcomed us from Laguna. I have to give props to the people who immediately made all the right moves (and phone calls), pulled the right strings, and averted what would have been a certain man-made disaster. Never again, dickhead.

As expected, early returns show satisfactory results from last year. Granted, that we are still waiting for the most significant and most important result of them all. I couldn't care less what it says in the end, I am just looking to move on. No man in his right mind, would want to go through that again.

Soundtrack

Di ko malilimutan ang Elbi nights
Siomai, Petrino’s at Big Mac
Lechon kawali at Bug-ong
Footlong na pagka-sarap-sarap
Pagkain para sa lahat

- Elbi Nights, Hemp Republic (17-18 May 2008)

Hindi ko talaga ma-gets kung bakit ka ganyan
Ang feeling mo ay sabik sa iyo ang lahat nang kalalakihan
Sorry, pagpasensyahan mo na
Mali talaga ang iyong inaakala
Lahat kami ay nandidiri sa iyo
Ikaskas mo na sana ang mukha mo sa semento

- Silvertoes, Parokya ni Edgar (19 May 2008)

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

- Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life), Green Day (20 May 2008)

Again, Deep Thoughts

Metro Manila cab drivers are the scum of the Earth.

The day cab drivers in the metropolis stop refusing to convey passengers, is the day a public utility jeepney that can comfortably accomodate all its passengers is invented and mass-produced. It will never happen. If you need to show the utter inutility and incompetence of the LTFRB, the only thing you need to do is try to get a cab ride in Metro Manila, without the driver coming up with some lousy excuse why he cannot go to wherever it is you're going (you'll swear they have some manual on coming up with these excuses), or trying to extort a few more bucks out of you.

* * *

After much thought, I have come to the conclusion that Pokwang is the most annoying person on television now, and probably, ever.

Pokwang, for the uninitiated, is trying hard to be a comedian. The only problem is, the only thing she has going for her, and the only thing she is banking on, is her funny face (read: she is fugly). She tries hard to be funny every freaking day by overly exaggerating every word she says, every facial expression and gesture she makes, and by wearing outrageously stupid costumes so lame, it can probably set off someone with the slightest hint of homicidal tendencies, make him go up the stage, and start chopping her up. The tragedy is, she thinks she's cute that way. Every day, she goes up the stage with Precious Lara Quigaman, Valerie Concepcion, and Mariel Rodriguez. Once you see them all together, you could almost swear you're hearing a Sesame Street song on the background ("Three of these kids belong together; Three of these kids are kind of the same . . .").

(Folks from Honolulu actually shelled out $100/head to party with Pokwang, presumably, among others. If this is not a sad commentary on the Filipino migrant, I do not know what is.)

* * *

We really have a new dean.

Coming through on his promise of encouraging students to "take more responsibility in their choice of electives and professors," CRS, for the first time, is posting the names of the assigned professors. No more TBAs.

(So far, he-who-must-not-be-named is nowhere to be found in CRS. Looking good.)

The Prestige

Suddenly-English-speaking Bearwin Meily is taking himself too seriously. Really now.

He should look Ramon Bautista a.k.a. Dan Michael up. Now, that's entertainment.

The Owl Has Landed

Hooters is a good place to find good chicken wings in the United States. Several friends and colleagues (mostly male) at my first job loved their wings so much that they were not able to resist coming back for more, and usually for the first-timers, asking the Hooter girls to have pictures taken with them. (Yes, you. You know who you are.)

I have been to several Hooters in the US, and I have never had my picture taken with a Hooter girl (I am still ambivalent as to whether that is good or bad). Which probably explains my hesitation at having my picture taken with local Hooter girls. It just doesn't make sense to (1) go home to the Philippines, and (2) wait for over ten years, to have your mugshot finally taken at the Hooters bar.

While our server for my first visit (it won't be the last) at Hooters Manila Bay is admittedly pretty, I noticed that some, if not most, of her colleagues might remind you of those who chose careers of the domestic kind. There were still some "trainors" (Hooter girls from the US) around, which gave Weng a more pronounced idea on the origin of the restaurant's name.

We went there without realizing that the World Pyro Olympics was likewise scheduled that day. The geniuses who run security at MOA screwed up the traffic going there, but it was all well and good, since most of the people in the area were outside waiting for the fireworks to begin when we walked in. According to Claudine (our server), the place is usually packed, and it was packed two hours later, just before we left.

By the way, 20 wings cost P750. I tried the "naked" wings, since I don't remember eating them breaded in the US.

Global!

You have to hand it to their marketing people. After comparing themselves favorably with the likes of Ateneo and La Salle, Informatics is now going after UP.


They have testimonials! From UP alumni, to boot.

Para sa mga Mag-aaral ni Pekto, Ngayong Tag-Araw

"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta."

- Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Superego

Justice Cruz noted in his column last weekend how Philippine schools confer "scores of awards" on every graduate during commencement exercises. While I barely received any honorific after elementary school, it brought to mind the one and only award I received from my "beloved alma meyter" (their pronunciation, not mine) many years ago.

It was an award given to me by default, since I was the editor of the school paper that year (I actually shared the award with the valedictorian, who was that year's editor of the Filipino paper). I presume that all previous editors of the paper received the same award in all the years past since its inception. I guess it was mine to lose, and apparently, I did not piss enough people off to lose it (This, notwithstanding the fact that I was summoned to the principal's office, and was personally approached by two teachers, who gave unsolicited advice, because of what was published in the first issue. The adviser later publicly claimed all responsibility, as he should have).

(During my junior year, someone who was bold and presumptuous enough, through sheer confidence and audacity, conceitedly claimed to know who was going to be the next editor, and announced the same to everybody who cared to listen - nevermind that she was in no way, shape or form, connected with the paper. Had she been right, I wouldn't have received this token honorific at all. Why do I still remember these things?)

(That year's Corps Commander - a classmate and a friend - may have pissed off one person too many - the Commandant. He lost the Cadet of the Year award to the Corps Ex-O that year; not that I cared about the CAT - if I remember correctly, I was one of only three persons with the rank of Cadet Private in our class, and I am, to this day, very proud of it.)

Justice Cruz likewise mentioned that he congratulated his grandson "for being the only graduate in his big class who did not receive a single award, not even for being handsome." With that qualification I can no longer say that I can completely feel the Justice's grandson's pain (or bliss, depending on how you look at it) - not that I do not deserve an award for being mouth-watering - my name was, after all, printed twice in the program (the second being in the class list). What prompted this random rant, however, was Justice Cruz' observation that his grandson was able to later accomplish something, that in my really biased opinion, more than adequately made up for whatever it is he missed on his graduation. To that, I can totally, absolutely, completely empathize with.

And I Thought Cogon Grass Was Nasty

"Baby out, baby out . . ."

I guess it's safe to say that I will not be able to look at a canister of Black Suede body spray the same way ever again.

Nirvana

"No more classes, no more books, no more teachers, dirty looks!"

- Bugs Bunny

Since summer classes were required for the duration of my stay in college (the last summer term was optional, but I was dating someone then, and the allowance that I had to forego if I did not enrol, was rather quite difficult to resist, moreso for a "starving" college student like me), the last time I had a real summer break was the summer immediately after graduation. I remember haggling with my then future employer about starting in May. I remember sorely needing a respite. Either that, or I was just plain lazy.

While there are no summer classes at Malcolm, the flexibility of the final exam schedules usually result in a virtually non-existent summer break. At the end of 2006, we had to deal with a professor who supposedly sent his questions via email to his staff, which questions, we were told, mysteriously got lost somewhere in the maze that is the information superhighway. We found out later on, that we had the exact same questions with us from the very first day of classes.

Last year, a professor who I saw for a grand total of four (4) times in the classroom, asked us to submit our answers to his final take-home exam on the last weekend of May. Enrolment for the coming academic year, was about a week thereafter.

This year, after dropping one persecution syndrome sufferer, we were left with (1) a course in which a failure is as close to an impossible condition as one can get, (2) another in which we knew that nobody is going to flunk if this one particular person passed (he did, so we're all expecting 1s), and finally, (3) the mother lode of all pain, suffering and perseverance.

For the first time in a long while, I have two months to do, well, absolutely nothing. So, for the next 60 days, except for the few times that the government decides to ruin my day and air propaganda (or their version of fiction) instead of regular programming, I get to enjoy RPN/CS; I get to wonder why Lyka and her pack don't just get rabies shots (mostly I just stare at the lead actress, ogle is too strong a word); I get to see a high school classmate flip her hair in a detergent ad on TV; I get to watch all the basketball I want (but, I missed KU-Memphis - the best college game in recent memory was aired the morning of Civpro finals); I get to play all the NBA Live that I want; and maybe, just maybe, I get to have some productive work done at the office.

I also have 60 days to have seven teeth filled, and bring my wife to her PT sessions. I have a book to finish, an outing to attend, and a trip to plan. I have all these lovely things to do, which does not involve, among others, getting screamed at and remembering periods for filing petitions and appeals.

Can you believe it? Fantastic.

Shock and Awe

"No matter how great and destructive your problems may seem now, remember, you've probably only seen the tip of them."

For close to three hours last Tuesday, I felt like a deer staring at headlights. Since yesterday, I have been feeling like an ostrich looking for a hole in the ground to stick my head in.

Now, I know what "not knowing what hit you" means. Ugh.

Proud to be a Cervinian

B-sides

Chris Webber, the most famous and the most talented member of Michigan's Fab Five retired from the NBA last week. The Fab Five - Webber, Jalen Rose, Juwan Howard, Jimmy King and Ray Jackson - played college ball for the Wolverines for two years, and went to two Final Fours and as many championship games (they lost both). They started as freshmen for Michigan during the 1991 NCAA title game - a first in NCAA history. I was on my first semestral break from college when I watched five bald young kids wearing baggy shorts, trash-talk and showboat their way to the championship game on TV. Some say it revolutionized college ball. That year's Final Four got me hooked for life.

This year, the US NCAA Final Four will feature all four No. 1 seeds for the first time ever. North Carolina, Kansas, Memphis and UCLA, will play for the top prize in US college basketball, after disposing of their respective Elite Eight opponents over the weekend. Worth staying up late for: UNC vs. KU - The last time the Jayhawks were in the Final Four, some guy name Roy Williams was coaching the team. He bolted for his Alma Mater, UNC, after KU lost to Syracuse and Carmelo Anthony.

This season, the NBA will possibly feature a 50-win team that will miss the playoffs. As of this writing, Dallas, Denver and Golden State all have 45 wins, with 9 games left to play. One of these teams will miss out on the eighth and last playoff spot in the very strong Western Conference. These three teams are only 5 1/2 games behind the current leader. On the other hand, the East's No. 4 seed, Cleveland, currently has 41 wins.

Later today, the Chicago Cubs will be entering their 100th season without winning a World Series title (If you are really bad at math, the Cubs last won the World Series way back in 1908). This is the longest-running championship drought in all four major leagues in American sports (MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL). If you have a thing for contrasts, the National University Bulldogs last won the UAAP men's title in 1954. It's not even close.

On the local front, Magnolia's Enrico Villanueva was traded for Purefoods' Marc Pingris last week. It should really be that simple, but for the PBA rules prohibiting direct trades between sister teams. So, Purefoods sent Pingris to Coke, who sent second-tier guard Chester Tolomia for Villanueva and Willy Wilson of Magnolia, before shipping them to Purefoods and Barangay Ginebra, respectively. From Coke, Pingris will move to Magnolia for a second round pick, while Wilson will end up in Ginebra for Mark Macapagal. Simple, huh?

Post-Hibernation

I spent my very first Holy Week in Metro Manila, reacquainting myself with Messrs. Regalado and Armstrong. I had to deal with the former if I wanted to have the slightest chance of finishing the enormous backlog that I created during the course of the last two weeks of the academic year. It's not that I had a choice to begin with. The last 200 pages or so were covered in two sessions. The last two sessions. I dealt with the latter, on the other hand, to keep my sanity. Jessica Zafra once wrote, that we are "a generation without closure" - we did not know what happened to Mr. Armstrong and his three kids, namely, Steve, Big Bert, and Little John. Well, GMA-7 delivered closure to those who still needed it over the weekend, by airing Voltes V's The Secret of the Mechanical Eagle, and The Last Saga. I have already seen both several years ago and several years apart. But, who's complaining?

Weng and I spent Easter Sunday watching the PBA's Graduates vs. Dropouts game on TV. It ended in a way only the PBA could have wanted, 90-all. Following FIBA rules on exhibition games, no overtime was played. The PBA and it's players' educational trust fund went home Php 2 million richer. The fund is meant for players’ post-PBA career studies. (A wiseass remarked that this puts our players at a distinct disadvantage since all of them graduated. On the other hand, the only "graduation" the DLRT boys know is on 6 fouls.)

P.S. LA and Larry have been traded to Alaska for Cortez and Bono. As a true-blue Atenista, and an SMB fan since a long, long time ago, I really wanted LA to follow Olsen's footsteps in SMB (calling it Magnolia doesn't sound right after all these years). I wish them luck.

Holy Thursday

Look at all my trials and tribulations
Sinking in a gentle pool of wine.
Don't disturb me now, I can see the answer
Till this evening is this morning, life is fine.

Always thought that I'd be an Apostle.
Knew that I would make it if I tried.
Then when we retire, we can write the Gospels
So they'll still talk about us when we've died.

Look at all my trials and tribulations
Sinking in a gentle pool of wine.
What's that in the bread, it's gone to my head
Till this morning in this evening life is fine.

- The Last Supper, Jesus Christ Superstar*

---
* Mga Awit, Papuri, at Panalangin ng Days With the Lord

Advisory

Easter Sunday's charity match at the Araneta Coliseum, between graduates and dropouts, is set at 4 p.m. and will be televised live on Studio 23. Proceeds of the event will go to the PBA Players’ Educational Trust Fund.

Lenten Thoughts

Cleansing Diet

I am practically done with Specpro. Hooray. I found the answer to my assigned question about two minutes after Mia sent us the assignments last week, and I forwarded it to her posthaste. There were 20 other unassigned questions, which I and two - later four - other likewise lazyass blockmates decided to distribute among ourselves. I have already finished drafting the answers to 3 out of the 4 questions assigned to me, and solved the problem regarding the correction of typographical errors in a person's surname, not by referring to any Specpro textbook, but by calling up my sister, who incidentally, works in a Local Civil Registry office.

After getting the blue books last night, I think most of us can also already cross Labor out of the list of problems we have to worry about. You really have to make an effort to screw this one up to have to take it again.

Civpro, however, is another thing altogether.

Anyway, since Playing for Pizza won't be out in paperback until July, I picked up a copy of Conrado de Quiros' Tongues of Fire earlier today for my SCRA-free summer reading pleasure. Actually, the SCRA-free summer season really won't start until after the second week of April (after Civpro, see above), but really, who cares?

Just for good measure, I also got the latest issue of Time, DVD copies of The Land Before Time (yes, I have seen it before), Mona Lisa Smile, and Coach Carter. If The Land Before Time cannot desensitize your legal gobbledygook-filled brain, I don't know what will.

Looking (Way) Ahead

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.

-The Code of the Sith

That will be my write-up for the Memorandum 2010. I can't wait.

In fact, I can't wait for March 18, 2008. Once this month is over and done with, there will be nothing but bliss for the next two months - that is, of course, assuming that everything goes well this month. I don't even want to think about the alternative. Right now, I am hoping and praying that VA will reaffirm my belief in the inherent kindness of human beings.

May God help us all.

Witness

I finally found Toyapi near the steps of the Enterprise Center fronting BPI, after chasing whatever group he's with, from Makati Ave. We tried to find the group from Malcolm, and between the two of us, we figured out how difficult it was to find a group of probably less than a hundred people from a mass of bodies all asking for the head of an evil bitch on a plate. A couple of photographers were angrily asking some people to put their banners down so they can get better shots. I seriously considered throwing a hard, blunt object in their direction, but, I couldn't find a hard, blunt object within my reach. Unfortunately, I didn't see their names, or the organizations they're affiliated with, I could have happily published them here.

There are reportedly around 80,000 people at and near the intersection of Ayala Ave. and Paseo de Roxas right now. It was announced that the PNP prohibited ABC 5's news chopper from flying over the area. Bishop Oscar Cruz, Sr. Mary John Mananzan and Bro. Eddie Villanueva spoke onstage. Notable people in the crowd include Noel Trinidad, Etta Rosales, Manolo Quezon, Butch Abad, and Dinky Soliman. Schools such as Assumption, La Salle, Ateneo, Adamson and UP are well represented (note to mouthpiece Ignacio Bunye: four of these are not SUCs, hence, these have not always been a “source of discontent”). Cory Aquino and Erap Estrada addressed the crowd for about a minute each. Armida delivered a rather weird spiel, which, as we were told later, was apparently a poem. Some guy named "Peter Parker" wearing a Spiderman costume, rapped to the delight of the Bayan Muna crowd.

As I was leaving the area (by following a woman riding some small contraption, much like how drivers follow ambulances at EDSA during rush hour), I heard that Jun Lozada has arrived. He will not be speaking until 6:30, just in time for the networks to cover it live for their news broadcasts.



---
Video taken by INQUIRER.net reporter Relly Carpio from the 10th floor ledge of the Philippine First Building in Makati City.

Would Luli Watch?

If you want to (1) express dissent/disgust/pure and unadulterated hatred for all things related to fake presidents and evil bitches, (2) support your alma mater, and (3) watch a basketball game, all at the same time, then this exhibition game is for you.

But on March 16, the two squads and their rabid fans will set aside their history of bitter competition for a friendly match in Araneta Coliseum dubbed “La Salle at Ateneo: Magkasangga Para sa Katotohanan (Team for the Truth)” to raise funds for the legal expenses of broadband whistleblower Rodolfo Noel Lozada, Jr.

I wonder if Araneta would allow Ben's Diner to sell its borjers to the fans. I heard it is to die for.

They Said It

“I was the one who made the recipe. It’s the best borjer. The documents show that you ate here a lot of times. You claimed I threatened you. You’ve been there at Wack Wack, having my borjer.”

- former Commission on Elections Chair Benjamin Abalos Sr., in a futile attempt to convince the Filipino people - on national television - that he did not threaten Jun Lozada.

Puso, Pare, Puso

XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Ang pag-ibig ko'y di tulad ng sa anumang bato tulad ng topasyo,
O kahit ng sa bulaklak na napupuno ng bango.
Mahal kita gaya ng mga bagay na madidilim,
Sa pagitan ng anino't kaluluwang kimkim.

Mahal kita tulad ng halamang di namumukadkad
Ngunit taglay ang sinag ng tagong rikit ng mga bulaklak.
Salamat sa iyong pag-ibig, 'sang laksang halimuyak
Ang umuusbong at nabubuhay sa aking katauhan.

Mahal kita, kung paano o kailan o saan ay hindi ko alam.
Mahal kita, walang bahid ng kabuktutan o pag-aalinlangan.
Datapwa't mahal nga kita dahil wala na akong alam pang iba

Maliban dito... na maging ang ako at ang ikaw ay di umiiral:
Na ang bisig mo sa dibdib ko ang aking sandalan;
Na sa iyong pagpikit, ako ang nahihimlay.

- Pablo Neruda

When You Have Eliminated the Impossible

Assuming, for the sake of argument, that Sen. Francis Escudero is wrong, and that the government does not, as a matter of policy, engage in "kidnapping, coercion, violation of anti-wiretapping law, obstruction of justice and other violations of Article 143 [Act tending to prevent the meeting of the Assembly and similar bodies] and 144 [Disturbance of proceedings] of the Revised Penal Code," then I guess we should all be thankful for being blessed with a government that, as enumerated by Inquirer columnist Rina Jimenez-David, gives it citizens (1) free trips to Hong Kong, (2) planeside welcome, (3) protection, (4) joy ride, (5) free legal advice, (6) steak dinner, and (7) P50,000 cash ‘panggastos’ [spending money].

O ha. Saan ka pa?

Wag the Dog

---
strip from INQ7.net.

Life After DRP*

A law student from Diliman recently shared with all the readers of the Inquirer, his rather unfortunate experience of getting a 5.0 in Nego - something he apparently shared with 29 other souls. He mentioned that it was his first failing mark ever, and confessed to all who cared to read, what every single soul with a Form 5 in Malcolm knows - resistance is futile. In his words, "he is still the professor and [...] that is the same as god."

Recently, an entire block was held hostage to the resentful and vindictive musings and posturings of a closet drama queen. The hairless wonder was apparently upset (I am being generous here) at the evaluation that that block gave him three semesters ago (which proves that not only don't elephants forget, they don't forgive either). From what the block saw and heard during the make-up classes (he was out for a month on official business), between the 5s that he generously distributed like pancakes to the class, one cannot help but surmise that somebody probably made a lewd comment about his momma in one of those evaluation forms.

He also made insinuations that members of the block provided the fodder to some other professor's weblog. Nevermind the fact that the block has never had the blogger for a professor, in any subject, before. He was sure the blogger was referring to him. He was sure that the information came from this ungrateful pack of recit cards oh-so-screaming for more 5s.

So, after one 15-minute class session, two make-up classes cum ranting and raving sessions, and 11 5s on most recit cards, all the members of the block - with the exception of five or so people - decided to drop the good professor. While a DRP doesn't look as bad as a 5.0 in the transcript, I can only hope that these people, suffer the same fate that the Inquirer contributor referred to above did - get a 1.75 from Professor Avena.

---
* with apologies to Jobert Navallo

Failure to Communicate

This silly war really has to stop now. Not only does it get more stupid and more annoying, you also get to hear about it more and more, every single day, whether you like it or not. The level of animosity between the two protagonists is already threatening to reach the Ang Dating Daan vs. Iglesia ni Cristo proportions. Unlike the latter, though, it is not even half as entertaining.

I am writing, of course, about this silly tit-for-tat mudslinging between the two largest TV networks in the country today. Mind you, the case is already in court - you know, that place where a supposedly impartial judge sits to hear both sides' arguments, and render judgment according to law - and they still won't stop babbling. Obviously, both networks are loathe to lose in the court of public opinion, and are leaving absolutely nothing to chance. But, most of the viewers cannot intelligently decide who's right or wrong in this stupid and protracted conflict. Most of the viewers don't even know why the show is called "Big Brother." Are you fucking kidding me?

Everyday, every time you watch the news, you have to tolerate hearing all about each side's claims and defenses, as if you have a say in whatever damages one side to bound to pay, and the other is bound to receive, if any. For the sake of everyone's sanity, I do hope that the court hearing the case decide this soon, with finality, and with prejudice.

(Of course, the loser will appeal, but at least, the RTC will not hear it again.)

Otherwise, we all won't hear the end of it. In the meantime, thank God for RPN/CS.

Institutionalized

"I believe in two things: discipline and the Bible. Here you'll receive both. Put your trust in the Lord; your ass belongs to me. Welcome to Shawshank."

- Warden Samuel Norton, The Shawshank Redemption

The past three months has been, so far, a piece of cake.

To be more precise, a piece of cake, dropped, in a cesspool of organic fertilizer, teeming with a seething mass of slimy, healthy annelids.

Lovely.

Brotherhood

Imagining Sisyphus Happy

"All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is a thing. Likewise, the absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. In the universe suddenly restored to its silence, the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rise up. Unconscious, secret calls, invitations from all the faces, they are the necessary reverse and price of victory. There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing. If there is a personal fate, there is no higher destiny, or at least there is, but one which he concludes is inevitable and despicable. For the rest, he knows himself to be the master of his days. At that subtle moment when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning toward his rock, in that slight pivoting he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by him, combined under his memory's eye and soon sealed by his death. Thus, convinced of the wholly human origin of all that is human, a blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end, he is still on the go. The rock is still rolling."

- Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

Baker's Dozen

Here's twelve things I learned during the holidays:

1. Takezo Kensei?! Takezo Kensei?!!!
2. A lateral patellar dislocation really looks awful. (Apparently, it also hurts like hell.)
3. It is not that easy to look for an orthopedic surgeon on Christmas Day. It also pays to personally know the hospital owner.
4. The Olongapo City government has spent my taxes wisely. Either that, or I just never had the opportunity to really appreciate public property before.
5. Sedatives have interesting effects.
6. Spending Christmas Day within the confines of a private hospital room is not as nice as it is made out to be.
7. Emergency medical care is freaking expensive.
8. When driving on the South Luzon expressway, time and space are distorted, and the Calamba exit will be farther than it appears on the map.
9. You can overtake slow vehicles at Bitukang Manok (otherwise known to locals as Zigzag Road, or Eme Road; otherwise known to me, as the scariest highway ever created or imagined by man). It is not advisable. It is not wise. It does not even make any sense. But, it can be done.
10. Welcoming the New Year is not the same when it is raining. Hard.
11. You can (a) get an unlicensed copy of NBA Live 08 for PS2, (b) get a DVD copy of Enchanted, (c) buy toasted siopao from Naga Restaurant, (d) get a copy of the Inquirer, and (e) buy Tenderloin Tips, Cordon Bleu, and Pork Kebabs from Bigg's to go, and be back home in less than an hour.
12. Isarog Lines can traverse the distance from Naga to Manila in less than seven hours.

* * *

[13.] HB, D(+).

They Said It

"Now I have come to the cross-roads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew, but I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard. Now here's Charlie. He's come to the cross-roads. He has chosen a path. It's the right path. It's a path made of principle that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey."

- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, speaking in defense of Charlie Simms at a meeting at the Baird School, Scent of a Woman

* * *

"We joined the Marines because we wanted to live our lives by a certain code, and we found it in the Corps. Now you're asking us to sign a piece of paper that says we have no honor. You're asking us to say we're not Marines. If a court decides that what we did was wrong, then I'll accept whatever punishment they give. But I believe I was right sir, I believe I did my job, and I will not dishonor myself, my unit, or the Corps so I can go home in six months... Sir."

- Dawson, A Few Good Men

* * *

Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice
‘Coz now you have a choice
You’re free as a bird on a tree
Are you happy as me?
Now it’s time to leave
All cares and worries behind
Elevate your mind
Rise and shine

- Eraserheads, Rise and Shine

* * *

Isang maligaya at mapagpalayang Pasko sa ating lahat!

Today's Reflection

Matthew 27:3-8 Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, Saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that. And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself. And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood. And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, The field of blood, unto this day.

Acts 1:18-19 Now this man purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood.

Song of the Moment

So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise
You better see right through that mother's eyes
Those freaks was right when they said you was dead
The one mistake you made was in your head
Ah, how do you sleep?
Ah, how do you sleep at night?
You live with straights who tell you you was king
Jump when your momma tell you anything
The only thing you done was yesterday
And since you're gone you're just another day
Ah, how do you sleep?
Ah, how do you sleep at night?

Ah, how do you sleep?
Ah, how do you sleep at night?

A pretty face may last a year or two
But pretty soon they'll see what you can do
The sound you make is muzak to my ears
You must have learned something in all those years
Ah, how do you sleep?
Ah, how do you sleep at night?

- John Lennon, How Do You Sleep?

Malcolm Madness

We all imagine ourselves the agents of our destiny. Capable of determining our own fate. But have we truly any choice in when we rise . . . or when we fall . . . or does a force larger than ourselves bid us our direction? Is it evolution that takes us by the hand . . . does science point our way . . . or is it God who intervenes . . . keeping us safe? *

Hell hath no fury like a woman (teehee) scorned.

Well, I am too old and I have to many things to worry about to want to play mind games with a random number generator. Your wish is my command.

Feel free to osculate my posterior, you pompous, self-absorbed offspring of unmarried antecedents.

For all his bluster, it is the sad province of Man that he cannot choose his triumph. He can only choose how he will stand when the call of destiny comes . . . hoping that he'll have the courage to answer. *


---
* Narration from Heroes (Don't Look Back)

A Long December

We have less than two weeks left before the lantern parade. If you're from Diliman, you would know that that marks the end of classes for this (and every other) calendar year. So on the 19th, between supplications of "Yeah?", interjections of "Fantastic!", and a few smatterings of "You are discombobulating!", we should be able to enjoy the parade from the comfort of our air-conditioned room at the third floor of Malcolm Hall.

From now to the 19th, aside from the usual "Oh God, please not me!" every MWF, I still have to prepare for one guaranteed recit for Thursday, and another guaranteed, but absolutely irrelevant, recit on Saturday. As for the remaining Tuesdays, well, your guess is as good as mine (If I promise to be kind to GMA, I wonder if she can make him(?), uhm, disappear).

I can't wait for the break, the holidays and the scheduled vacation from work. My Christmas shopping (for myself) is flat-out done. I finally have all I want for Christmas. I am oh-so-easy to please.

Just remember, good things come in blue and white.

There Goes the Neighborhood

During the last Ateneo-PEP Test Review Center basketball game this past season, some idiots wearing shit-colored shirts put up a banner that shows the 2006 THES-QS rankings. According to the banner, the PEP Test Review Center was ranked 392, with Ateneo lagging behind at 488 (Actually, Ateneo ranked 484th last year, which proves that not only can they not spell, they also cannot read).


Unlike students and alumni of a certain "school" who use these rankings, primarily, to reassure themselves that they are not hopeless, and secondarily, to sleep better at night, we realists like to think that, at the end of the day, this is just a freaking survey. But, of course, that is not going to stop me from enjoying seeing the idiots watch their solitary argument for life, the universe and everything get flushed down the toilet, now that the 2007 THES-QS rankings are finally released. I think it is now safe to say that no similar banners from shit-colored-shirt-wearing-idiots will be coming up anytime soon, at least, not from the same idiots.

(Just in case you're curious, UP, which did not participate in the survey this year, is at 398 [score 34.7], Ateneo 451 [30.8], La Salle 519 [23.9], and UST 535 [20.8]. Harvard is tops with a score of 100.0. As they say, 'nuf said.)

Hoot! W00t!

Hooters. Manila.

I never thought I'd live to see the day I'd say both words in the same sentence. But, I guess we are still blessed. The soon to be relatively famous, delightfully tacky yet unrefined, restaurant, is coming to our shores.


Yep, Hooters makes me happy. It must be the wings.

Feel My Pain

Untitled

Reality Control

And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed-if all records told the same tale-then the lie passed into history and became truth. "Who controls the past,"' ran the Party slogan, "controls the future: who controls the present controls the past." And yet the past, though of its nature alterable, never had been altered. Whatever was true now was true from everlasting to everlasting. It was quite simple. All that was needed was an unending series of victories over your own memory. "Reality control," they called it; in Newspeak, "doublethink."

- George Orwell, 1984

See the original NPC mural here.

Read Neo-Angono's protest letter here.

Four Months Later

I saw the most explicit and most torrid puppet-sex ever exhibited on film over the weekend in Team America: World Police. It was released way back in 2004, and was produced by the same people who brought to us the greatest animated film ever: South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut. I had to get an original copy because, for some reason, our enterprising brothers from the South, apparently have never heard of it. It was well worth it. Aside from the aforementioned extended sex scene between two of the film's puppet characters, you'd also catch Nokor's Dear Leader Kim Jong Il lamenting his loneliness and hidden injury through song ("I'm So Ronery"), and, of course, you'd hear one of the most romantic lines ever delivered on film: You had me at "dicks fuck assholes".

RPN-9 finally aired the first episode of the second season of Heroes last Sunday (The second season premiered in the US on September 24, 2007. It will consist of 24 episodes). I actually finished the first season way ahead of RPN-9's schedule over four months ago, thanks in no small part to the advancements made in digital video technology in this country, and I expect to outpace the network yet again in a few months, after it airs some 18 or so episodes. It answered a few questions and introduced new characters. And yeah, Hiro is still the man.

I'll be picking up my reserved copy of SI's NBA Preview Issue at Bufini tomorrow, like I do every October. Like last year, I will have exactly one week to enjoy the magazine, before registration and Civpro rolls in.

What, Me Worry?

In computer science, the ostrich algorithm is a strategy of ignoring potential problems on the basis that they may be exceedingly rare - "to stick your head in the sand and pretend that there is no problem". This assumes that it is more cost-effective to allow the problem to occur than to attempt its prevention.

So, you ask yourself, is the difference between a passing mark and something higher worth the aggravation?

Excuse me while I stick my head in the sand.

51.13%

We are, if anything, creatures of habits. Drawn to the safety and comfort of the familiar. But what happens when the familiar becomes unsafe, when the fear that we have been desperately trying to avoid finds us where we live? *

I had Labor last Friday. No, not the kind that brings forth new life into the universe (fact: if a fetus had an intrauterine life of at least seven months, it need only to be born alive, to be considered a person under our laws - a fact that I conveniently forgot - during Succession finals), but the kind where reading at least 60 pages during the course of the semester is absolutely guaranteed. And that's just the course outline.

Anyway, it's all history now. Labor. Gone. The first half of AY 07-08. Gone. 68 of 133. Gone. As Red said, "That's all it takes really, pressure, and time."

I usually go out for lunch on Fridays, usually, in one of the places in and around the Makati CBD. More often than not, it's usually in one of the malls near the area where I work. I also usually get "sick" during the days when I have matter to attend to over at Diliman, and last Friday was no different. So I was on a cab on the way to Diliman, instead of having lunch at, say, Pizza Hut in Glorietta 2, when I received two messages about the Glorietta Blast. It was a senseless tragedy, and my sympathies go to all the victims and their next of kin. For a moment, I was thankful that I had Labor that day. Only for a moment.

We are all, at our cores, the sum of our fears. To embrace destiny we must inevitably face those fears and conquer them. Whether they come from the familiar or the unknown. *
---
* narration from Heroes (Homecoming).

Prepare for Glory

I was planning to enjoy three post-Succession films over the weekend (In the comfort of my own studio, courtesy of our friendly neighborhood dibidi supplier). First, because I am probably the only person I know who hasn't seen these movies - movies that I sorely wanted to see at some point during the last five months, but obviously didn't. Second, after finally, hopefully, completing Succession under RFB, you really, badly need something to desensitize yourself.

I was able to finish two out of the three movies. It should now rather be obvious what the first film was (The other choice, by the way, for this entry's title is Transform, and Roll out. Not quite as compelling, huh?). I still don't know whether I can find time to watch the third one this week, considering that there is still Labor on Friday. I remember having mentioned many times in the past, that one of the most difficult things to do in this world is to force yourself to prepare for the last hurdle. That is still true, I kid you not.

Anyway, I also have my sembreak desensitization book ready for this weekend. I got a copy of Youngblood^3 as early as last July. I have both The Best of Youngblood and Youngblood 2.0, and I got the third installment because, as Vonnegut would say, I choose or claim to have a shared identity or purpose with the writers. I actually started reading it last Friday, but stopped somewhere in the middle of the book, lest I finish it before the semester actually ends.

I have a Plan B, but by the look of things, it seems that John Grisham's latest work won't be in paperback anytime soon. And no, it has absolutely nothing to do with courts of law (The only Grisham book I have read to date is Bleachers). Reading The Firm for the sembreak would somewhat defeat the purpose, don't you think?

Half-life

The half-life of a quantity, subject to exponential decay, is the time required for the quantity to decay to half of its initial value. The concept originated in the study of radioactive decay, but applies to many other fields as well, including phenomena which are described by non exponential decays.

College was never this fast. Most probably, it's because of the fact that aside from "portering" (or exploitation of the poor, as Felix puts it) and lining up for my monthly stipend, the only thing that I ever needed to do back in college was to show up in class and pass. And that's precisely what I did for four years. I also lived on-campus, which explains why I was late for class most of the time. Unlike the non-resident students, we spent time between classes comfortably sleeping in our own beds, and not in the library.

The experience thus far, has been quite the opposite. Unlike the day classes who spend all day at Malcolm (I think. After all, we barely see them in person), we corporate and government drones have to survive the daily commute (at least, those of us who do) every single day after work (real work - not the sissy, lame-ass version that one gets, to qualify for the evening class), only to suffer moral damages "in the grand manner" for at least two hours. You go home, and prepare to relive the same horrible dream all over again, the very next day.

That, in my opinion, explains why this thing seems to be going much faster than I expected. In two weeks' time, assuming shit does not happen, the block would have finally reached the halfway mark, and before we know it, all of this will be over pretty quick.

It will be painful, but quick, nonetheless.

Free Burma!

The End of the Road

Ateneo's season ended last Sunday, after losing its knockout game against the PEPT Squad, for the right to play undefeated UE in the championship round. After winning two consecutive elimination games against No. 4 UST and No. 2 PEPT Squad, the team simply did not have enough gas in the tank this time, to complete its turnaround after losing its last elimination round game to NU, which turned out to be the turning point of the season (note to the Eagles: can we please beat the living shit out of NU twice next year?).

The emptyness of moral victories notwithstanding, Coach Norman Black pointed out to reporters after the game, that nobody predicted the Eagles to be one game away from playing for the championship when the season started, considering that it just lost Macky Escalona, Doug Kramer and JC Intal to graduation. Yet, there they were (No, it doesn't really help).

Ateneo will lose Ford Arao and Zion Laterre to graduation this year. Everybody else (including, hopefully, Chris Tiu), is expected to return. NCAA Juniors MVP Ryan Buenafe, and Justin Chua from Tiong Lian champions CKSC, will reportedly join the team as its rookies next year. These two boys, along with Nonoy Baclao, Eric Salamat and Kirk Long should provide the core of the Hail Mary team for the coming years. The future looks good. At least, on paper.

OBF.

"Gritty Blue Eagles just won’t die"

Down by six going into the last two minutes of the game, and probably, the season, Chris Tiu scored five of the game's last seven points, including the game-winning basket with 7.3 seconds left, to beat the PEPT Squad for the third time in four tries this season, and more importantly, to stay alive for, at least, one more game.


With the win, the Eagles will play the PEPT Squad for a fifth time this season on Sunday, with the winner moving on to play the top-seeded UE Warriors.

OBF.

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Image courtesy of the Ateneo Sports Shooters.

Bitter

From the New York Times, baby.

Senators, foreign diplomats, cabinet ministers, a smattering of Forbes’s 40 richest Filipinos, movie stars and enough professional basketball players to play five-on-five. They are the elite of Philippine society, and they all gather at Araneta Coliseum in Quezon City to watch the men’s basketball rivalry between the universities Ateneo de Manila and De La Salle.

Read the rest of the article here.

Crap. Now, the rest of the world knows who the cheats are.

Sweet!

“Iba ang usapan sa playoff. Tingnan natin ang tibay nila, basta kami matibay kami (The playoff is a different story. We’re tough, let’s see how tough they are).”

- UST Coach Pido Jarencio, before promptly losing to Ateneo, 69-64.

Now, this does not in any way come close to payback for the Game 3 loss last year. Nevertheless, it was still a sweet, sweet win. I was good - no, gratifying - to finally send them packing, especially after their gallery pulled that stupid stunt during halftime in the first round. In a rather weird show of sportsmanship, their cheerleaders - the Bumbling Bees (actually, they call themselves the "Yellow Jackets," inspite of the fact that these species are not native in this region) - promptly cheered for the PEPT Squad after losing yesterday, for good measure.

Comedy of Errors

Regarding my last entry re: Brian Ilad, in the spirit of fairness, love, and world peace, according to the *cough* "Dean of Philippine Basketball," *cough* and I quote:

"Regarding yesterday’s column about La Salle’s Brian Ilad, a reader clarified that the 6-5 center played only two years, not four, at Philippine College of Criminology. But Ilad qualified for only a season in the UAAP because he finished high school in 2001, a limitation in his eligibility. A UAAP senior athlete is allowed to play five seasons in a span of seven years from when he graduated in high school." (italics all mine, baby - d)

So there.

Speaking of errors, a friend from AMA Computer University asked me to post this:

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Many thanks to A.Y.

Murphy's Law

Last Saturday, the only thing that the Eagles needed to do to finally nail the twice-to-beat advantage in the stepladder playoffs was to beat the sorriest team in the history of the league (not necessarily for this season - that honor belongs to another team).

But of course, they did not.

Yesterday, they had to play a PEPT Squad that is obviously aching for payback, after the two similarly painful losses inflicted on them by the Eagles in the elimination rounds. The game was not so much different from the first two games - only this time, it was Ateneo who blinked first, and it cost them dearly.

(Brian Ilad also did not play - he was serving his automatic one-game suspension after being ejected from the DLRT-UE game, after hitting UE's Brian Fampulme, who had his back turned on Ilad, while Ilad was on the bench. It was reported earlier that he has likewise been slapped a five-game suspension on top of the automatic one-game ban, thus ending his illustrious one-year UAAP career. Note that Ilad had actually consumed four years of eligibility in another league with the Philippine College of Criminology, which explains why he looks like a police sketch.)

Now, the Eagles would have to contend with the defending champions (who just came off a win in their own playoff for no. 4) in a knockout match to determine who will face the PEPT Squad, for the right to play undefeated UE in the Finals. The PEPT Squad, by virtue of the win yesterday, will have the twice-to-beat advantage.

Not Once, But Twice!

Ateneo whooped green ass for the second time in as many games yesterday at the Araneta Coliseum. Chris Tiu (for the second time in as many games) buried the winning trey with 17.8 seconds left in the game.


The PEPT Squad actually had a chance to tie the game, but Rico Maierhofer's putback off JV Casio’s missed jumper was released after time expired. There's no word yet if the PEPT Squad will file a protest.


Honk if you know somebody in the picture (No, I don't mean Dato Arroyo).

Note to PJ Walsham: your level of arrogance should at least approximate your level of play (see Cardona, Mark or Yeo, Joseph). In other words, huwag kang maangas kung banban ka.

Note to all overly-sensitive losers: huwag mapipikon sa mga banners ng crowd ng kalaban. Ang pikon, talo. Sus . . .

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Images courtesy of the Ateneo Sports Shooters.

Untitled

The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know My name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.

- Jules Winnfield, each time he kills someone, Pulp Fiction.