Monday, July 05, 2004



My sincere and deepest thanks to everyone who went last Saturday to CCHQ and picked up a copy of our modest anthology! Love and kisses to those who helped spread the word through mailing lists and their blogs. :) Thanks must also go to the lovely proprietors Tin and Katya who tolerated our squatting. I know I had a lot of fun. Most of the time was spent sitting and talking with friends, some who I haven't seen in a while. There were a lot of nice free comics to be had. All in all, we got rid of about 80 comics at CCHQ, and we gave 40 copies to Comic Quest earlier in the day. So about 120 copies all in all. Better to have overestimated than under-, I guess.

It was a bit of a photo finish. The night before Saturday, Neva and I were overseeing the copies being stapled and folded, from 830 to 11 PM. Thursday night was when I picked up the dummy, having visited Elbert and Jamie's offices. Seeing everything together was a treat. It's the nature of anthologies that there will be stories you like more than others, even speaking as the "editor." But for the most part I'm genuinely HAPPY with what we've come up with.

Since we were rushed the issue's not perfect. Some typos were spotted after the fact, and I'm still not satisfied with my intro, so I think I'll change it for the next print run. Still, content-wise everything seemed to go off without any major hitch. It was 60 pages all in all, when I was expecting something around 48.

I saw the bulk of the work on Sunday night at Megamall, where El and Jamie were exhibiting at the Toycon. I have to admit that when I saw Arnold and Ate Cyn's pages I almost cried. It was the first significant time where I felt it was actually coming together and not just an intangible project I would've liked to see happen. Especially since I was expecting shorter work from the both of them, what with their busy schedules. To see a full 8-page story from Arn and Cyn's 3-page double-tier story (her first comics work EVER!) really surprised and touched me.

Though the whole week has been exhausting, when I was watching all the copies being stapled and folded, and knew that I wasn't going to be making money from this, the feeling I still had was I wanted to make more. Is that strange? I don't know. Certainly, I don't think we'll be giving them away for free next time. But those were the 2 things most in my mind: I want to see more, and I really should've done this sooner.

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Over lunch on Saturday we started talking about future issues. I realized that if I counted all the stories that weren't able to fit in the first, and all the late stories that are already in progress but just didn't make the deadline, I'd have the bulk of the next issue already. Which was a bit of a shock, but also a good feeling. I've also had good feedback from the people who DID contribute, and though they did it for free (for which I'm forever grateful), some were actually EXCITED about the prospect of submitting for the next issue, which is probably the best compliment you can get. I'm also hoping that people who join Hey, Comics! because of the anthology will also begin appearing in future issues. It's also a good way to force us to become more productive, and on a more selfish note I just want to see more good comics from people I'm a fan of!

We started joking about themed issues, too. If we're more disciplined about it 3 issues a year might actually be doable. And maybe 1 of the 3 could be themed. Themes are tricky: marketing-wise they're better for the anthology, and you could get some surprising results from your contributors. On the other hand, you could also get surprisingly BAD results from your contributors, who either don't like the theme or found it restrictive or just couldn't come up with something they like. But one idea we toyed with was having the themes be the uncommon kind. Ones without any necessary social value. To kind of force everyone to be creative and see what they come up with. Ridiculous suggestions were made: "Girls in red skirts," "Missed call," "Haircut," etc. One of Le Sexy Mark Lavin's genius suggestions was the Rob Liefeld tribute issue.

At the end of the meal I realized the second issue kind of has a theme already: "Late." ;P

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This is 7-year-old Alexa Kitchen, who had 2 books debut at the recent Museum of Cartoon & Comic Art Festival (appropriately called The Early Years: Ages 5 & 6). She started cartooning when she was 5.

I'm fucking pathetic.

Also in attendance: Moby, longtime comics reader. Michel Gondry, a personal idol of mine, whose 13-year-old son Paul ALSO had a comic debut at the show. Son of a bitch.

And of course, Steph Misa, who texted me saying "Am at MOCCA. Want anything?" Unfortunately, when I woke up and found the message it was 11 PM in NY. Thanks for the offer, though, Steph.

One of my new favorite artists, Stuart Immonen, apparently has an LJ. He has this hilarious series of strips, Fifty Reasons To Stop Doing Sketches (that's not his usual art style, if you're wondering). Go and read. Also found this model of the Preacher character Arseface thanks to him. I'll spare you girls the picture, but men and comics fans, make with the clicky!

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And here's Suicide Bomber Barbie:



I'm excited about this bit of news: Scholastic is beginning a graphic novel line called Grafix, launching with Jeff Smith's Bone. Bone is a terrific series I've been following since high school. I've been reading it in collections, and the end is near, and it's been a magnificent trip so far, one of those stories I wish I could get everyone to read, particularly fantasy fans like Mikey and Lia, who I'm SURE would love it. I think I lent Neva one and she immediately bought the first 6. Then she lent hers to Chris and he bought the first 7 or 8. I'm curious about the little tidbit saying it's going to be printed in color. I always imagined Bone in color to be wonderful, but Smith's art is so perfect in black and white that I wonder if my experience with the story'll be different this time around.

Here's hoping it becomes even bigger than Harry Potter. I wouldn't mind having a secret THIS good explode all over pop consciousness.

Scholastic have also approached Scott Morse, who I became a fan of since I read his The Barefoot Serpent.

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Here's the list of places we're thinking of approaching for selling the anthology:

- CCHQ
- Comic Quest
- Filbars
- UFO
- Sarabia Optical, UP Shopping Center
- Big Sky Mind

I've also asked Diego Mapa if we could sell through him. He sells a bunch of zines at gigs.

Any suggestions?

Thursday, July 01, 2004

SLEEP, WHEREFORE ART THOU?

Wednesday night was fun. First, had some silvanas and then chicken skin (thanks to Lia). Then, played all-you-can-play at Timezone for an hour with Neva, Quark, Lia & Chris. Which just sent me back to high school. It was heaven, a gift I would have LOVED to be able to give to myself as a skinny AHS student. We played with reckless abandon, not caring if we were injured or not, because after all, we could just swipe the injuries away. At one point I was letting myself die in Time Crisis 3 because when you restart your grenade launcher gets reloaded. Then feasted at Bubba Gump's, joined by Dead Sexy Mark Lavin. Then Alexis arrived and we caught Spider-Man 2, which is entertaining. I'll try and write more about it later. Then after that, some of us got crepes, and we all ended up at Giligan's, home of the best sisig, and just had severe cholesterol intake. To the point where my body was just starting to shut down and I was getting dizzy. Went home and passed out...

... only to wake up 3 hours later. And then there's hardly any rest: a quick one-hour nap, followed by a rushed, last-minute introduction for the anthology. Then rush to Elbert's office to see the anthology. It's printed out twice; one's a master and the other's used to make a dummy so the photocopy people know what it should look like. Then MTV Pilipinas Awards, which has some of the most arbitrary categories I've ever heard. Then Mini Stop, because I forgot that all of Thursday, up until around midnight, all I'd eaten was a Cinnamon Swirl from Starbucks and a Regular Yum with Cheese I was eating while walking back to Chris's from Elbert's office. Go home and plan to collapse, but no: I have to bring my dad to the airport at 4 AM (a few minutes from now). Did I mention I wake up at 730 to bring my mom to the office, because we have no driver and I need the car she uses because everything else is coding? No? Well, I do. Why, you don't ask? Well I'll tell you: because I have to drive all the way to UP, where the anthology will be reproduced for Saturday. A photo finish.

All that said: I was holding the dummy in my hands this evening and showed it to some friends. I think it looks nice, but I'm biased. Re-reading everything now, I realize my introduction is really bad, and may change it for the next print run (we're initially making 200 copies). Its final page count is 60 pages. Tobie Abad was able to squeeze into the list of contributors at the last minute, after my announcements.

Next thing I have to think about is making a list of places where we can sell it. Any suggestions?

And lest I forget: Mikey is in the new FHM, talking about naughty things. You would've thought they'd have a few more Girlfriends of the Month waiting in the wings before getting desperate...

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

I have been remiss in updating. But there are so many posts I want to get to! And not having a scanner there are so many pictures you guys haven't seen. But, urgent things first!

This Saturday, July 3, is Free Comic Book Day in the US. So if you're in the US, or know someone there, tell them to go to a comic store (preferably early) and they can get free comics. Here, I think only CCHQ participates, but they have a system where you get a certain no. of free comics depending on how much you've spent at CCHQ recently. This because it's not exactly free to them, since there's no discount on the shipping costs from the US.

ANYWAY!

I've been moderating a small comics discussion group for about 4 years now, and partly as an anniversary project, we are putting out a zine, just a small anthology of short strips called Hey, Comics! It's coming out this Saturday! Yay! Some copies will be given to Comic Quest in Megamall, but we'll be at CCHQ handing out copies ourselves.

Contributors include Arnold & Cynthia Arre, Quark Henares, Chris Costello, Neva Talladen, Harvey Ong, Mark Lavin, Dean Alfar, Jordan Santos, Andrew Drilon & Wincy Ong. It's kind of surprising because we actually have so much material we had to push some stories to the next issue.

It will be FREE only on this ONE day. After that, we'll be selling them everyplace that'll have us (and if you have suggestions, please mention them in the comments!). We don't have the price yet, but rest assured no one's making money from this. I was prepared to foot the whole bill and lose some money but a generous person, when I wasn't even asking, actually donated a couple thousand pesos! Be still my heart! So the money will all go to recouping printing costs of the first issue, and the rest will go to making the next. All the contributors are doing this out of sweet love, and blackmail. So give it a shot, please! I swear, the stories are worth it.

Tell everyone you think would be interested! After all, it's FREE!

CCHQ is at the 3rd floor, FBR Building, Katipunan. Across Ateneo, near World Topps.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

I first came across Rommel Joson's artwork in the pages of Heights, and it blew me away pretty much every time. Best of all, he seemed to change not just the style but medium he used in every issue (so did another artist, Chico Barretto). He was Neva's batchmate, but I never met him until after he graduated. And to my surprise (and utter delight) he was actually interested in making comics, being a reader himself. So I gave him two scripts I had: "Perfume" & "You Are Here." One was written for a Heights exhibit of comic art (that Chris drew beautifully, by the way. Where is it, Chris?), the other was a loose adaptation of a letter Neva sent me when she was in Chicago and I missed her terribly. He chose to do "Perfume" and promptly disappeared for 6 months. Then around New Year's of last year (or was it 2 years ago?) he emailed me out of the blue with 3 finished pages. But I lost his email address and wasn't able to reply. Then Ernan mentions in Subic that he'd seen my comic online. Of course, I'm stymied. What the hell is he talking about? Then Naz tells me the same thing at Fete. Apparently, Rommel linked to it on Friendster. So I look up Rommel on Friendster, friend him, look in the Bulletin Board archives, and there's a link, and I follow it, and find: Perfume, written by me and illustrated by John Quaresma. Who is John Quaresma? I don't know, but those are Rommel's pages. This is all interesting timing because we're about to put out an anthology of short comics works as a zine.

So: Perfume, written by me and illustrated by Rommel Joson (aka John Quaresma). Tell me what you think. I know what I find embarrassing about it (nothing to do with the art; it's splendid). Remember it's old, and was my (I think) second formal comics script. The first was for Harvey, published in MTV Ink: "The Truth About Raining Cats & Dogs."

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Here's Natalie Portman and Melchior Beslon in a Tom Tykwer-directed short, "True," for the Paris, je t'aime anthology, which also has contributions from Woody Allen, Jean-Luc Godard, and the Coen bros.

And something nice from Neil Gaiman's blog:

"...over at http://www.somethingpositive.net the following gauntlet was thrown down, following complaints that things were getting sloppy:

Help me quit my job. Seriously. Click on that donate button and give me a buck... fifty center... five bucks. Whatever. I've more than enough readers that if over half of you did that, I'd have a year's salary and could quit my day job - and that's forty hours freed up for the comics. Go ahead.

So they did. $22,000 came in. He gave up his day job. That's cool."

And something for you porn-freaks.

Monday, June 21, 2004

Yesterday (I Was A Slug)

I woke up. Didn't get out of the room. In fact, didn't leave the bed. Read Junko Mizuno's Cinderalla. After, realized I was hungry and went downstairs for nourishment. Then, seeing my dad using the computer, I went back upstairs. Read Warren Ellis & Brandon McKinney's Switchblade Honey and Brian Wood & Rob G's The Couriers 2: Dirtbike Manifesto while listening to Sonic Youth's Sonic Nurse, At the Drive-In's El Gran Orgo & Vaya, and !!!'s Me & Giuliani Down By The Schoolyard (A True Story). There was a power outage due to the rain, and I decided to transfer some books to the first, top shelf of my dead sexy new bookshelf. Hey, I'm a nerd. This shit's important. I take pleasure in organizing my bookshelf. Then it was time to get ready to go to Chris's. Bathed and dressed while the gift was being wrapped.

When I get to the car I find pictures I've been missing for about a week: 3 developed rolls from underwater disposable cameras in Boracay. I am so happy and relieved! I was looking for them everywhere. I searched my room, Neva's flat, the den where the computer is, etc. It was behind the headrest in the back seat. Probably put there by one of my brother's friends when he was using the car, because I never put things there. While it was missing I really felt terrible about it, as in whenever I'd think about it I would just get depressed for an hour. Whew.

Picked up Neva at her place, went to Chris's. Despite being 20 minutes late we are the first to arrive. I show him the pictures, and some new pics from Subic, CDO and Boracay taken with the Ultimate Quad Cam. Also my first roll of developed Lomo pics. Yay.

The others arrive and we have a nice quiet dinner. Lia, Ernan, and Sexy Man Mark Lavin read Identity Crisis # 1. Quark does 3 pages of comics in under 2 hours for the upcoming anthology. We learn of Mich's eventful fete. Chris opens his gift; it goes over well. Whew.

Good day.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

This morning I was crying because of a comic (the excellent Identity Crisis # 1).

Last night I met Herbert Bautista but was too shy to ask for a solo pic with him (got a group pic, though). It was very Twilight Zone-ish because we were actually listening to the Bagets theme song when he came in (Gary Valenciano going "Growing up! Getting dooown!").

I am also quite happy with my new bookshelf. I can't wait to properly shelve all these books lying on my floor and covering every other halfway flat surface.

2 books came out at Fully Booked everyone should have: Alan Moore & Jose Villarubia's The Mirror of Love, and the new McSweeney's, guest-edited by Chris Ware. I'll talk a little more about them later...

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Finished a story.

It's a good feeling.

Even if it IS 8 AM.

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TRAILING

I don't know why DC, which is owned by Time Warner, is having such difficulty making good movies out of their properties. I mean, the Constantine trailer came out, and it bears virtually NO resemblance to the character that the fans know and love. Constantine in the movie is an American, played by Keanu Reeves. In the comic he is a hard-bitten Brit in his early 40s, with dirty blonde hair (modeled after mid-80s Sting). The movie seems to indicate that he is a modern-day Van Helsing who takes care of demons and the like. The trailer would be intriguing if it weren't so wrong. There's a nice part where a woman gets thrown out of a building by an invisible force, though.

And the less said about Catwoman the better. I liked director Pitof's first film, Vidocq, but this doesn't hint at anything near the visual style of that film. The outfit's insulting. Halle Berry - I'm sorry, but her face rarely strikes me as beautiful. Most of the time she just looks cheap. Also has no connection to the character: she plays Patience Price (or something), it's not Gotham, and there's no Batman.

If they're just going to make all these changes, why keep the name? Really. It makes NO sense. The name recognition will just frustrate people: Catwoman's black? Where's Batman? Wasn't she bad? And a property like John Constantine, Hellblazer doesn't have much recognition outside of comics anyway. So if you're trying to get fans of either property, you're just going to piss them off. It's like asking them to pay for the privilege of seeing their beloved (anti-)heroes pissed on. It's a further shame because both books are going really well right now; they could've just stuck to that and done good.

The new Anchorman trailer is better than the earlier one. I don't know if it'll be great; it looks enjoyable, but I like the trailer because it pokes fun at trailers. Reminds me of the Comedian trailer, which was hilarious (and had nothing to do with the documentary, which is a good thing).

Here's the trailer of Michael Moore's latest, Fahrenheit 9/11. Already controversial, I hope it's a big hit. I enjoy Moore's fans but I'm not one of those types who just blindly agree with everything he says. Apparently someone's trying to make a documentary about Michael Moore himself.

I can't wait for The Incredibles to come out. The new trailer's hilarious. And the new trailer of Garden State just makes me want to watch it more.

Chris pointed me to Open Water, which scared the bejeezus out of me as a newly-licensed diver.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Sometimes I feel like I should just leave the country.

Monday, June 07, 2004

First, congratulations to recent graduates Alexis and Cecile, and good luck to everyone going back to school today.

Second, I'm back. Since last Wednesday, actually, but things have been odd/busy. After spending a week in Boracay, one home, and then another in Cagayan De Oro, I am now backlogged with lots of work, and have other things to take care of besides, like family things that pop up at the last minute. It's a shame that my deadlines don't have vacations too.

The French Film Festival is ongoing, there's a link to the schedule in the events box to the left. I'm not familiar with any of the films this year; the only names I recognize are Catherine Breillat and Claude Chabrol, so I'll try to catch those if I have time. If you've seen something and like it, tell me in the comments. They're charging now. But 50 bucks isn't so bad. Venue's better.

There are many things I want to write about here but I don't have the time to do it the way I want, so those will have to come later. Sorry if the schedule and timeliness of thisgs will become awkward.

This is the confluence of technology and piracy: I am listening to the new Beastie Boys album, "To The 5 Boroughs," one full week before it gets released in the US.

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Trust the Onion for a laugh: check out their hilarious feature "Least Erotic Sex Scenes," which contains some choice lines - on Clint Eastwood's Blood Work, "In addition to consummating the unlikely bond between Eastwood and De Jesús's characters, the scene reminds the world that directing and starring in a movie is a great way for a 72-year-old man to end up naked in bed with a woman 30 years younger and 30 times more attractive than he is." On the Eminem starrer 8 Mile: "Brittany Murphy might make a more attractive sexual partner if she didn't look high, filthy, and professional." And my favorite, on the Kevin Spacey bomb The Life of David Gale: "The only thing less erotic than a woman sobbing convulsively during sex is the man who keeps dutifully thrusting." Hahahaha!

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Here's one of those pictures where people tell you, "You may regret seeing this, so I'll warn you beforehand; you can't erase it from your memory afterwards." Which just makes you click on it with more resolution than you would've normally. But I'll warn you beforehand: it is a toad mating ball, when more than 2 toads goes into a sexual frenzy of an orgy and they actually FUSE. It's dread disgusting. Try not to look at it around meal time.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Would you rather know what's best for you, or the Truth, no matter how much it might fuck up everything?

Friday, May 21, 2004

Yay! We're back. I went through withdrawal the first day. Unused to so much technology. Missed the sand beneath my feet, and the wind in my hair. The sound of the shore. But, I also missed certain things, which is why we went to see Troy immediately.

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If I had to sum up Troy in a word it would be bleagh. Thoroughly unengaging, it was the kind of summer film filled with "moments" instead of characters, where everything that wasn't a fight scene seemed in a hurry itself to get to a fight scene because it knew it was boring. You could invent a drinking game with the frequency of "one-liners" dropped by the various characters, most of which already came out in the trailer so there weren't any genuine surprises or keepers. I mean, "Immortality! Take it! It's YOURS!" just reminds me of Captain Planet, and anything that reminds me of Captain Planet can't be a good thing. I had to keep reminding myself that it was inspired by The Iliad and not a direct adaptation, because it was just that bad. Thankfully, this was not too difficult because, uh, THERE AREN'T ANY FUCKING GODS!!! What else sucked? Oh, the score was terrible, boring and unoriginal. Helen of Troy, possibly the most difficult character to cast, was some humdrum blonde who further reduced a cunning character (following up on the script's devaluation of her significance in all this) into a dumb blonde? That's the face that launched a thousand ships? More like a thousand yawns. One of my biggest peeves is that it's like they didn't even bother with the love angle past the opening 20 minutes. And even what was there was unconvincing and embarrassing. What, they fell in love because they'd been screwing for a week? Acting was pretty lukewarm, but I have to give props to Eric Bana for giving Hector a doomed nobility. Although in the beginning, his eyes were kind of freaky as he tried to convey panic silently. Brad Pitt got to display his two acting tricks: furrowing the brow and clenching the jaw. He cries over a fallen warrior's body but there are no tears. That's acting for ya. Sean Bean, one of the best actors we have, is wasted here; poor guy didn't even get a fucking frame in the trailer but he deserves a better salary than Orlando Bloom. Speaking of the fey one, I'm sorry but you're just too pretty. I almost thought he was Helen. Peter O'Toole got one decent scene; otherwise he was just bug-eyed. Brian Cox I enjoyed, actually; everytime he was onscreen there was a small gnashing sound in the background, I later realized it was the scenery being chewed. I'm disappointed to find out that the script was written by David Benioff, an actual novelist who was responsible for both the book and screenplay of The 25th Hour. Effects were unimpressive, but not bad; movement was stilted and crooked at times, so occasionally I'd find myself thinking, "Massive... Massive... Massive..." referring to the program invented during the production of the Lord of the Rings trilogy which specializes in armies and large groups of creatures interacting. The best scene was the duel between Achilles and Hector. Achilles had this annoying jump-in-the-air-and-strike-down move that really felt like some video game special move for his character, and I wish it wasn't TOO obvious that Hector was outclassed. Still, I liked its relative silence, and what score there was was fitting, but it was ruined by the singing at the end. There's a spoiler here, though this being one of the oldest stories in the history of the world it shouldn't be, but anyway: Hector dies. And after that point, the film just deflates, because there's no one to root for. You're just "Alright, just bring on the horse so we can get this over with." Then Achilles gets shot in the foot with an arrow, and keels over. At which point I realized they never even brought up his invulnerability, or his heel. So I felt bad for kids in the audience, who must've been confused as shit. I mean, here's the greatest warrior, and he got taken down by a stick in the foot? All in all, it was boring. The war scenes weren't very good, though I really enjoyed the choreography in the Hector/Achilles duel. I found myself thinking of various scenarios that would make it more interesting, like while Troy was being ransacked, wouldn't it be cool if suddenly you saw Jim Caviezel dragging a cross being whipped by Romans? Or if Eric Bana just turned into the Hulk on the beach and just started eating Greeks? Peter O'Toole should have called on Supergirl for aid. Orlando Bloom should have picked up a bow and arrow and started firing bolts and-- oh, yeah, that's right. Well.

I really wanted to like it. I'm in the mood for a good Big Summer Movie. And I liked some of Wolfgang Peterson's previous work like In the Line of Fire. Air Force One was okay, didn't see The Perfect Storm. Haven't seen Das Boot, though it's his claim to existence with the cineastes. But he did direct The Neverending Story, so I'm pretty forgiving for that alone.

Thank God we watched Shrek 2 next. It's everything you could hope for: funny and entertaining on all levels, from first minute to last. Antonio Banderas's Puss in Boots steals practically every scene he's in. There are even some geek nods to Alien and Godzilla fans.

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Well, we are still stranded. What sucks is that I injured my foot recently so I can't even swim because the cut keeps opening up. I also neglected to bring a book, something I haven't done in years, simply because I didn't think I'd need it what with the location and the company I was with. Boy do I wish I brought one anyway. And if I may sound like a teenager for a second, I really REALLY miss comics. :( And music, and my DVDs, and...

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

STRANDED IN PARADISE

We were supposed to be in Manila by now, but a typhoon has screwed those plans, and now we are stranded. Mich and Chris have a flight tomorrow. They're PAL, and the airport is far away, but Neva and I are taking SEAIR and are waitlisted for Wednesday and Thursday so we may actually get back to Manila on Friday pa(!). Kutob niyo I factored this into my budget? Shit. Still, there are worse places to be stranded in, and worse company to be in. :)

Monday, May 17, 2004

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

I have a friend who told me about another friend of hers, who, when drunk out of his gourd, would cop feels and otherwise attempt to fondle his girl friends. But in the morning, he’d be totally apologetic and guilty and ashamed. But it would happen again the next time the guy was wasted.

I imagine it’s much more difficult for girls than it is for guys. Most guys would probably welcome the treatment (unless it was a gay guy), or at least, be less offended. But this friend says she understands the behavior. But if you’re this guy, and you know what you do when you’re drunk, shouldn’t you then go out of your way to make sure you don’t get wasted so often? Or does he remain unconcerned about the possible damage and, at the least, changing dynamic in his relationships with his girl friends? Or did he weigh the options: maintain relationships, or give up binge-drinking, and decide that he couldn’t give up the bottle?

I’m sure he’s not the only one who behaves that way when drunk. I’m sure because I saw it happen just the other night.
MATABUNGKAY

Yes, this is late, and I know this blog has been a bit image-heavy recently, but that's tough, you crybabies. I'm still on a fucking dial-up so don't come whining to me. Anyway, on with the show...

Not much to say about Matabungkay. It was fun, I guess, but being trapped with your family and relatives can be tiring. It was a little disorienting to have neither a television, computer, or telephone anywhere near you. Thank Christ someone thought to bring a radio, and that I had a few discs in the car, or I'd have gone insane. For the 3 days and 2 nights we were there, I must've played around 400 games of Pusoy Dos. There was just nothing else to do after reading Chris's comics and JG Ballard's A User's Guide to the Millennium. The adults, instead of Pusoy Dos, had Mahjong.

Glowsticks do not float, but can be seen underwater. That's something I learned. And Tigerfish are really dangerous.

My cousins and brother all wanted me to take "Friendster userpics," wherein they would pose and I would try to take a flattering picture of them. Kids these days.

The soundtrack of this getaway was: DJ Shadow (Endtroducing... & The Private Re-press), UNKLE (Do Androids Dream of Electronic Beats? 3 discs), Nirvana (Incesticide, Nevermind, & In Utero), Sonic Youth (Dirty Boots EP, Invito Al Cielo with Jim O'Rourke, & Kim Gordon side band Free Kitten's Unboxed), and The Best of Hanna-Barbera.



This is my cousin Raffy asleep on the hammock. He wraps it around himself to keep mosquitoes from desiccating him.




This is my cousin Pia. I waited and waited but she would not look up. She doesn't like to smile for pictures. But she does like her shells.




My turn on the hammock, with my magazine of choice, the Lapidary Journal. You can't trust your precious gems to just any hokey magazine, you know.




Here's what we did when we weren't in the water.




Here's our parents' version of Pusoy Dos (closer to Tong-its, actually).




These are the balsas at low tide. They just wash up on shore.




This was our balsa. My first time to use one of these things, actually.




2 consecutive artsy-fartsy pictures of the balsa, this one with the negative space on top...




... and this one below. With an anchor, if you look closely.




Our ambience.




That's my dad and my ninong floating. The adults don't really swim, they just float and lounge in the water like hippos. I had to wait a while for them to line up so I could take this shot but man was it worth it.




This is an ice cream vendor with his cooler on a flotation device. He'd swim from balsa to balsa, family to family.




I was walking around the compound our relatives rented and came across this stack of black wooden crosses with garlic hanging on them. In October they line the driveway with these crosses to ward off evil spirits. Creepy. Thank God we didn't come here in October.




And a hallmark to end our post. Low tide sunset, my cousins collecting shells on the beach. All is tranquil.


Now back to life.


ODDS & ENDS

I have always wanted to see The Exorcist compressed into 30 seconds, and enacted by cartoon bunnies with high-pitched voices. Voila! I got my wish.



I wouldn't mind having a devil duck sitting beside my computer, especially when its eyes light up when reading/transferring data, but I would very much like a Godzilla with 4 USB ports on its back, especially when both its eyes AND its mouth lights up!



Here is a somewhat creepy animated short.

A while back some of you may have read this post on Neva's blog, where she talks about this music video she came across on TV and it made her cry. Well, I found it, and it is indeed quite good and tear-jerking. Neva was watching it again over my shoulder as I watched it for the first time and when I looked up, she was crying again.

For you Sims fans, here's the essay Neil Gaiman wrote for the previous one's manual/booklet.

Here's a nice little strip about the literary life, courtesy of Posy Simmonds.

See my little friend over on the left with the raging boner? That's James Kochalka's Fancy Froglin. He has a book out called Sexy Forest. Anyway, there are 2 sick and twisted fan films you should see: here and here. The first is kinda graphic, so parental guidance is advised. The second has a cool rap. You can't beat a frog rapping.

TRAILER PARK

I've seen the trailer for Before Sunset, and I don't hate it. In fact, I think I'm looking forward to it, even though it slams shut, with finality, that somewhat open ending on Before Sunrise. Garden State looks really interesting; I LOVE the images in this trailer. And I love Peter Sarsgaard. He was good in Center of the World and he's amazing in Shattered Glass. He's the best young actor to come along since Ed Norton, I think. Collateral looks really intriguing, too, and it looks like there's a mix of film and DV like Mann did with Ali, but I'm just glad to have a new Michael Mann film coming out! And I am excited for The Bourne Supremacy, even if it isn't being helmed by Doug Liman anymore. If you need a laugh, check out an over-the-top Christopher Walken in Undertaking Betty. Hilarious.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

I HAVE A QUESTION, MAYBE YOU CAN HELP ME OUT




Is that BLUE STEEL or MAGNUM?
HAVING ASKED PERMISSION






This is my cousin and my new cousin-in-law.

Monday, May 10, 2004

I FEEL DISCONNECTED

Yesterday everyone was talking about the fight and I could probably care less but won't make the effort. I caught the first 3 rounds before falling asleep. We were at my lola's for Mother's Day (which very few people seem to have remembered) and I was tired from tearing down political posters some motherless fucks posted around my lola's property. My dad and brother didn't really help-- they were watching the fight before Pacquiao's.

Now, everyone's talking about the elections, and some of the opinions genuinely surprise me. It was like a zoo without cages when I voted yesterday. Saw some neighborhood friends I haven't seen in years.

The past few days I've felt dreadful before going to sleep. And this is not one of those attempts at colorful language-- I really felt full of dread. I feel like something bad is going to happen, and that I should prepare. But I don't know what, and I don't know how.

I hope I'm wrong.

--

This is the review I was talking about, Mikey. It's Stephen Thompson's review of Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism. Well-written, in the way that I think deftly encapsulates what the album is about, reveals something new for those who've already heard it, and sells the reader on getting it. I wish I could write as well as The Onion AV Club crew.

This is a nice ad from Ate Cyn. She mentioned this a while back, I forgot to link to it. I first heard it at Quark's; it's Francis Ford Coppola interviewing his daughter, writer/director Sofia, when she was 6 years old. He was working on Apocalypse Now, which shot here, and she sings "Lupang Hinirang" pretty well.

This is from Ylai, and I laughed out loud. And since Mikey isn't updating as frequently as he was, and because of recent entries, Ylai is now my favorite blog.

--

Mich's birthday party was a blast, even if I missed Ciudad, dammit. Saw a lot of people, took a lot of pictures. Almost everyone got drunk from P's secret Iced Tea of Doom. Probably the best thing, besides the company, of course, was getting to see 2 bands I haven't seen before: Enemy of the Enemy (excellent name), and Giniling Festival. Both kicked ass. And Lacson Jackson did very well, for their first-ever gig in front of more than 2 people not in the band itself. Goldie will be a rock star one day, and I hope her guitar will still be yellow.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

I’m having some friends over this Saturday afternoon at my house. If you have nothing to do then, and don’t mind a trip down South, feel free to come. It’s an informal meeting of the comics discussion list I moderate, so there’ll be some comics being shown, but we’ll also basically be hanging out, watching stuff, etc. You can bring food, comics, drinks, DVDs, a PS2, whatever. If you’re interested, email me privately and I’ll send you my complete address and directions. I live near Bicutan, and it’s near impossible to get lost because from C5 it’s only 3 left turns and a right.

If you don’t know my email address, send me a message on Friendster. Or leave your email ad in the comments. :)

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

I caught the lunar eclipse! Man, was it cool. Made me feel like a kid again. Every boy goes through 2 phases of utter fascination: astronomy and dinosaurs. Hadn't thought about this in a while.

-

Saw Man on Fire the other day. I liked it for what it was worth: a pure revenge movie. What I expected to dislike, I disliked: the overabundance of style at certain points, particularly Creasy's "drinking" montage. Still, with such a simple plot, it's nice to see a Hollywood film take the time to infuse character; the movie's over 2 and a half hours. And if there must be an overabundance of style, you could do much worse than have it be Tony Scott style. I really disliked his use of Carlos Varela's "Una Palabra," though. I feel that it's so effective and unforgettable in Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's BMW Film Powder Keg that he should've used something else. And he used it twice in the last 15 minutes of the film. The photography, especially the colour, is sumptuous; kudos to DP Paul Cameron. I also liked Christopher Walken. There's a particularly Hollywood "twist" towards the end that I disliked too; it robbed the main character of his purpose, and this wasn't reflected as much as I wanted it to be. Still, it was fun watching the single-minded drive of Denzel's Creasy mowing down everything in his path. The irony that it's written by Brian Helgeland (and that it's a second adaptation) isn't lost on me; as Nathan Rabin said in his review in The Onion AV Club, Helgeland "owns the peculiar distinction of having, in two consecutive years, adapted a contemplative critique of the futility of revenge (Mystic River) and a simplistic celebration of vigilante justice."

Saw Hellboy last week. I enjoyed it enough. Of course, having read the comics before I saw the movie, I was somewhat expecting to be a little disappointed. I loved the BPRD, and Ron Perlman as Hellboy. There were some lines of dialogue that were really true to the character, like when Abe discovered 3 eggs in HB's right hand and he just quips, "Didn't even buy me a drink." I enjoyed the fanboy things like seeing the stacks of pancakes and the lines "I'm gonna be sore in the morning," "That's all for you," etc. I loved the scene where Hellboy's following Agent Myers and Liz. He really seemed like a teenager when he was pacing back and forth going "She took his picture. She took his picture!" Things I didn't like included Abe Sapien, who is the coolest character in the comics but here seemed a little too fey. David Hyde Pierce was the (uncredited) voice, but a different actor was the body, and he must've come from mime school or something because he was overacting like crazy. What I disliked the most was that the villains just DID NOT translate well. Beyond simple things like "Why are all these Russians and Germans speaking in English when they're amongst themselves?" they were hammy actors burdened with pompous dialogue that may be alright when read, but said aloud just sound ridiculous.

I've finally seen The Passion, too, but that's its own post.

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You know how people who've had a string of bad luck take comfort in the karmic notion that there is something great waiting down the line? I wonder if it works the other way around. Do people who've had an amazing life and all the easy breaks worry that something terrible is bound to happen to them? Does this worry paralyze them? Or are they comfortable in thinking that so long as they fully appreciate and respect what they've been given things will be alright?

I don't think I believe in karma. But there is the law of averages.

-

Good news for geeks: Millennium Season 1 and Batman: The Animated Series Season 1 Box Sets have been announced.

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I love Adrian Tomine:




-

There's a whole mess of new links in my links box. Especially since everyone and their ghost (or pet) now has a blog. Please notify me if there's a broken (or stale) link, or if you don't want your URL out in the open like that. There'll be no offense taken, believe me; I understand some of you want your privacy and want only friends to visit. Some people have more than one link; if you would prefer it be reduced to just one, please tell me. Or if I haven't linked you yet at all. Or if your link disappeared from template updates. It's cute to see that there are now complete sibling sets online: the Costello Sharp-Tongues, for example, and The Martinez Sorority.

Monday, May 03, 2004

SUCH IS LIFE

as Kelvin Yu replied when I sent my condolences about his grandmother's death some weeks ago. Last Friday, we buried my tita in the morning, celebrated Neva's birthday in the evening, and the next afternoon, Saturday, I watched my cousin get married to his highschool sweetheart.

It was a small, intimate event: close friends and family only. What I will remember most about the ceremony was BB, my cousin Ray's yaya, who's been with them since before he was born, bawling her eyes out into a handkerchief. This is the woman who bathed him as a baby, wiped his ass when he took shits and took care of him when he was sick, made his beds and cooked his dinner. Kind of his second mom. I have my own BB: Ate Susan, who's also been with my family since before I was born. In fact, she was with my family when my dad was still young and they all still lived in Leyte. She's the only other person in the house who speaks Waray besides my dad. I'm godfather to her firstborn. I was wondering how she'd be when my time came. This has become common in recent generations: with mothers working fulltime, we're raised by our helpers, and these helpers stay with us their whole lives sometimes, and effectively become part of the family. There were times when Ate would have rows with my mother, and she'd leave for a few months to work somewhere else, and her presence would be missed, not only because we had all these chores to suddenly handle, but simply because she's the person who's always at home, who answers the phone, whose cooking we know best.

So my cousin Ray married Yoya, his girlfriend of what, 7 years? When I first heard they became a couple (senior year high school), and got more information about Yoya, the connections were almost uncanny: her best friend was my batchmate in grade school. She lived in MY village, and was dating MY first cousin, who lived far away in North Fairview. But they make an excellent couple.

Things are set up in such a way that I should hate my cousin. Because he is blessed: good looks, great family, good grades, and more. Growing up, I often heard various paraphrased versions of "Why can't you be like your cousin Ray?" He was valedictorian of his batch in grade school. Graduated high school and college with honors. Plays guitar and cello. Did I mention the good looks? Crush ng bayan yan. Even straight guys would have a crush on him. He was one of the glee club's stars in grade school, and hosted some show with Gary V. that was a big thing for my relatives then. In high school, he was an actor in Dulaang Sibol, and went on to be the definitive lead in their play Sinta. See what I mean? He had everything going for him, at least from the standpoint of the shy, insecure bookworm with average grades. Probably the closest he came to disappointing his parents was choosing to take Management Engineering (reputedly Ateneo's hardest course) instead of Biology (his parents were hoping he'd become a doctor). And of course, he had Yoya, who was the crush of 2 other people I know, and was always being compared to Liv Tyler before I finally met her.

I should hate the guy. But I don't. I love him.

Ray is my closest cousin, one of my best friends. Beyond that, he's one of those people I admire, whose sheer niceness and generosity of self have been an example, and a sign of hope for this sad, doomed world. He is one of those people I can claim to know before I am turned away from the pearly gates at the final judgment, and hope maybe that'll buy me some time before being cast into the fiery pits. With all his blessings, there's another, more important one: he's just a nice guy. He never made me feel any less of a person. He appreciated black humor. We would have vacations at one another's house during summer vacations. He taught me to shoot pool. We watched VHS tapes (or was it Betamax?) of recorded Simpsons episodes I borrowed from Gab. I can still say to him "Lemonade?" and he'd still know to reply with "Pleeze." and I would conclude with "You're my best friend." We would sing along to "Beat It." We biked around his village in the rain, and I crashed my bike into an open manhole hidden by a small flood. We both had crushes on Alyssa Milano in "Who's the Boss?" (who didn't?) I lived in his house for six months, half of my first year in high school, because we thought it would be easier than my staying at home in Paranaque, and he would get mad at me because I burned through his Michael Crichton and John Grisham books before he'd get to finish them. For the past 2 years he's stayed over with us on weekdays and went home on weekends, because he used to work for Ford over at Laguna but now is at Unilever, still a far drive from Fairview. I can't say I won't miss him, but of course, being now married, he'll be with Yoya.

Did I envy him at certain points in our lives? Hell yes. But I never, EVER wished anything bad for him.

In another world, maybe I hate him. In this one, I am one of the people who brag about him first and fastest. You'd think he was my son or something.

Anyway, I just wanted to share that. I'm really happy for him. And yes I cried during the wedding.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

EVERYONE GREET NEVA! IT'S HER BIRTHDAY!!!



HOORAY, I SAY! HOORAY!

Monday, April 26, 2004

My tita passed away this morning at around 4 AM. About an hour after the last post was published.

I knew she was in bad shape last night. But I didn't allow myself to think of her dying with any finality. I didn't even write it down in the previous post. I don't know, maybe I thought it was bad luck. But it's the closest I've been to death. I wanted to say something naive like I wish I never have to go through anything like that again, but the only way that'll happen is if I die first.
GDMFSOB

What a horrible, miserable fucking day I had.

Was woken up to get the car's aircon and other problems fixed. Finally! Dad gives me some money and instructions/directions. I go with my brother to the shop, which is in Sucat. It is fucking hot and traffic is bad. Practically across the street from the shop, we get a flat. Which wouldn't be so bad in itself, except that I had just changed another flat tire from the same car 2 days ago. So the spare was still flat. Luckily, we're near the shop, so both tires get vulcanized. Still, it's an unexpected, unwelcome delay, and an added expense. One of the tires ended up costing P250 because the tear was huge.

The car is looked at, and my dad arrives from some meeting. He leaves with my brother and a mechanic to buy parts. I'm left to watch over the car (and the spare was still being vulcanized). It is still blisteringly hot; thank God I brought the comics I borrowed from Chris. They try to fix the horn but there's a part missing. They tell me one of the bulbs in the right headlight is busted but they don't have those kinds of parts.

I get a call to pick up my brother and the mechanic at my mom's office in Makati, because my dad has another meeting to go to, and the place they went to in Pasay didn't have the compressor we needed. Here my headache begins. So I drive from Sucat to the heart of Makati. It is hot, and traffic is bad. Sitting in traffic while basting in the heat: I like to think these things make me a stronger person. It is looking less and less likely that I can go to the bank like I wanted to. I pick up my brother and the mechanic, and receive new instructions, more money: the only place they know with the compressor we need is in Cubao. Terrific. I drive to Cubao. It is hot, and traffic is VERY bad. We get the compressor, but because of traffic and the delays (the flat, the missing parts) it's already late. The aircon will be worked on tomorrow. So after all this shit, what got fixed? The tires. We have to bring the car back to the shop tomorrow morning.

I get a call from my dad: drop off the mechanic and give him money to get back to Sucat, go back to mom's office, we'll have dinner and visit my tita who's in the hospital. We're not dressed, I say, we thought we'd be at the shop and back home by 3, which is why we were wearing shorts and slippers. No problem, he says.

On Edsa, going back to Makati from Cubao, the engine DIES. Which shouldn't happen, because the car's an automatic. I get it started again, but then it dies again a little while later. We pull over, and examine the engine. It overheated. The first time that this car, which has been with us for years, has ever overheated. Because the water completely ran out. A hose under the engine came loose and the radiator leaked fluid. Luckily, we have bottles of mineral water in the car. But it revealed yet another problem: the temperature gauge is fucked up, because I would've seen the overheat coming. Another delay. Get to mom's office, have a pizza. Mom gets a text: bring a priest. Thankfully, from this point I am no longer driving and we are using the Lynx.

We pick up the priest in his parish in Pasay before going to the hospital (UDMC). The hospital is horrible; the bathrooms are filthy and roaches are on the floor and walls of the halls. The priest says some prayers. I don't think they're last rites, but it's not looking good. My tita has had cancer for some months now, and she's been pretty weak recently. It was her fifth night, I think, at the hospital. She was having difficulty breathing, was gasping, maybe pneumonia or water in the lungs. Occasionally her arm would go up, violently and suddenly. She could hear us but couldn't really communicate, and her husband had to hold her legs down. It's a terrible scene, and I start tearing up. I'm not particularly close to my tita, but everything gets to me: how pale she looks, and how frail and just so-- small. I try to stop; I don't like crying in front of my family. I distract myself with details: there's an empty bedpan under the foot of the bed. Purses on the floor. Coffee and sandwiches on the table. Traffic sounds outside. The hum of the airconditioner. But try as I might, my mind goes back to the heavier things: my tito holding down her legs, watching her breathe. How's he feel? Is he prepared? I got scared when they asked us to bring a priest; it didn't look good, she might not last the night. Above her, sitting on the bed, is her daughter, my cousin. They're not on good terms, haven't been for years. They live in the same compound but not in the same house; my cousin "moved out" a while ago, and talks mostly to her dad. When she talks to her mom they usually end up quarrelling. This is what I hear, anyway. Sitting above her mother, she's fanning her head, a hand on her arm. I can see the dried tracks of tears on her cheeks.

My tita is my dad's last living sister. His elder sister, Anita, died long ago, before my parents even met. She died of cancer too. My dad's older brother also has cancer now. It became better but has come back. My dad's dad, also cancer. Died when my dad was 16. Also never met my mom. A little over a year ago, my lola, his mom, passed away. Not cancer, but as is common, I discover, pneumonia gets you in the end. The body just becomes so weak, that the breathing becomes almost impossible.

I hope this doesn't sound too cruel, but this was something I thought about: if you come from a big family, unfortunately you get to a certain age where you have to attend a lot more funerals.

When we left the hospital, my tita was asleep. My cousin said some color had come back to her cheeks.

-

This must've been karma for Sunday, which was pretty good. I was able to sleep late, dropped by the Costellos, then went to Quark's shoot for the next Chicosci video. He told me to bring office clothes but neglected to mention that we would be swing dancing. Possibly because it would've scared some people away. Mikey choreographed it, and it was fun. Doing around 7 takes of a 30-second shot was devastating, though. My feet still ache a little. Saw some people I hadn't seen in a while: Mikey, Alia, and Trinka. After, we grabbed some dinner and watched a great Ciudad gig at SGS, then finally got to try Una Sikat's Sizzling Bulalo before heading home.

-

Still haven't seen Hellboy. Hopefully today, as a reward. Everyone watch Spartan. Might be its last day today.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

I think I'm too tired right now to put up my Matabungkay post but I would like to say:

Wong Kar-Wai's 2046 has been announced as part of this May's Cannes Film Festival. My first reaction to this news was utter elation, because I am a super Kar-Wai fan and have been waiting for this film since forever. I mean, when did In the Mood for Love come out? 2000!!! And he was already shooting this! He stopped and started from scratch something like 6 times (remember, he works without scripts, just general plot outlines, and when those change, then the whole film goes as well). The common joke was that it would come out in the year 2046. Anyway, it was supposed to debut at last year's Cannes Festival but they didn't make the deadline. But now it's an announced entry. So I hope that means something. Then again, if I remember correctly I think I read something about him stopping and starting AGAIN earlier this year, but I just phased it out of my memory because it had happened for the Nth time. So now I am more sober about it. But I am DYING to see this film.

Other interesting films at Cannes: Pedro Almodovar's Bad Education, Olivier Assayas's Clean, Walter Salles's Diarios de Motocicleta, Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11 (sure to be controversial, and I hope to God it comes out in the US around the time of their elections), Mamoru Oshii's Ghost in the Shell: Innocence (nice to see an honest-to-goodness genre anime film actually in competition), Park Chan-Wook's Old Boy, Joel Coen's The Ladykillers, Emir Kusturica's Zivot Je Cudo, Hirokazu Kore-eda's Nobody Knows, Abbas Kiarostami's Five, Zhang Yimou's House of Flying Daggers, Quentin Tarantino's supposedly going to unveil Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair, and God bless him, Jean-Luc Godard is STILL making films. His latest's called Notre Musique.

--

Spent yesterday and the days before my Matabungkay trip reading all the major Hellboy TPBs, and now I am a major fan. So the movie better be good. Since I couldn't watch it yet, Neva and I watched David Mamet's Spartan, and LOVED it. I urge you, seek it out and watch it. It's whip-smart, the actors are excellent, and the structure is a doozy. It packs a wallop and the plot twists are genuinely surprising and entirely logical, which is terrific. Of course, it's Mamet so even if you don't like any of that shit there's his sweet, sweet dialogue. It'll likely disappear this Wednesday, so catch it ASAP.

Dammit, reviews so far of Tony Scott's Man on Fire have been less than stellar. Which is a shame, because I love the trailer and was really hoping for it to be kick-ass.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Had the night all to myself, because Neva's in Iloilo right now. I suppose I was in a bit of an introspective mood. I had taken care of some things throughout the day, and then had dinner, did a few more things, almost watched a movie but didn't. It was already late but I still didn't feel like going home. Remember I asked a few weeks back about 24-hour places? This is when I need 'em. I remember in high school and early college doing this a lot: just staying out, even if I'm alone. All I need is a notebook and a pen. I'd order a hot chocolate and would stay in a small café for an hour or two. This doesn't happen very often anymore, so it was now tinged with a certain nostalgia. I still enjoy observing people, I found. I can still handle solitude somewhat, even if we're strangers now.

At the end, before I finally headed home, I had this sensation of missing my notebooks, the ones from those years, now filled with all sorts of detritus and memories. They all look different, feel different, smell different, have different weights and shapes.

CONNECTIONS

For a few months now, I've had a livejournal. I first got it because a) I thought they gave you space for pictures and b) it's easier to keep track of those using LJ. But since I have found out that they DON'T give you space for pictures, it's just sitting there, not really being used for much. The last few posts have either been pointers to this blog or a reprint of something I especially wanted people to see. My first idea with it was to keep it focused and concentrated on cool stuff: movies, comics, books, music, etc. I could talk about stuff and people could recommend stuff to me. But I like doing that on this blog. It's almost inextricable, actually, and I've probably written more about other people's stuff than my personal life anyway. The other idea was to put all my articles on there, but I'm less comfortable about that the longer I think about it. Plus, I'd have to get permission all the time from editors. So now I don't know. What do you think I should do with it? Someone suggested I use it for answering surveys and online personality quizzes and whatnot, but I don't know...

I'm also on Friendster and Y!M, by the way. Friends, look me up if we're not connected.

I'll be in Matabungkay for 3 days with my relatives. I doubt I'll have internet access.

Monday, April 19, 2004

Neva and I watched Acacia last night. It's quite bad. This and The Uninvited, another stinker, are both Korean horror films. I was hoping to see something along the lines of the superb Tale of 2 Sisters, but these were horrific only in their quality and storytelling. Both are dead boring, and have minimal scares. The most effective were dream sequences, and even those had to ratchet up some sound effects. Acacia was actually more of a psychological non-thriller. The Uninvited was more frustrating, for the simple reason that IT ALREADY HAD ALL THE ELEMENTS FOR A PERFECTLY GOOD HORROR FILM. It had a great "mystery," tragic childhood stories, excellent score and cinematography, decent acting (with the girl from My Sassy Girl), and midway through the film is an excellent little gem of a scene that I think I will take to my grave, it is that good, but the rest of the film is an utter, unresolved mess. Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING is resolved satisfactorily. Everything was already there, but the director couldn't connect the dots in a clear and logical manner. Such a shame. Oh, well. At least I can now use the endings I was guessing at for my own purposes.

Both films were directed by first-timers, if I remember correctly.

On the other hand, PJ Hogan's Peter Pan was surprisingly damn good. I mean it, and was in utter awe with the level of sophistication, and sheer fun. There's a reverent mood throughout for the original source material, and I'm so glad it's not American. If I was a kid it would probably be one of those touchstone films of my youth, like The Neverending Story and Labyrinth. It actually feels like a lost classic '80s film at times, especially with the score. But with better effects, of course. And the humor! It's bursting with humor. Especially the Lost Boy Slightly. He'll go places, that one... and may I just add that Olivia Williams is one of the most beautiful women to ever grace our planet. I'm sorry, but everytime she is onscreen, even if she is not the main focus of the shot, I cannot look at anything else.

Oh, and Jason Isaacs is excellent.

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Neva got me to try kickboxing yesterday. Holy hell does my body hurt. Worse, I had a really difficult time getting to sleep later that night because it was just so damn hot. So when I was woken up today, not only was I sleepy and groggy, my body was a roadmap of pain. And it was still hot. Getting up out of bed was an adventure in itself. It felt like someone had replaced my limbs with an old frail man's while I was asleep. My legs nearly gave in the shower, but man was that cold water sweet. Putting on a shirt was another adventure. I tried tilting my body to the side for easier access; no go. I just had to grit my teeth and keep from wincing. And it got even better when we got to church and there were no more chairs left.

Still, I feel good about it. I haven't done anything so strenuous in a long time, and this kind of pain feels good, actually. That's when you're more used to it. After the session yesterday, Neva and I had lunch at Power Plant, but we couldn't resist and ended up getting a massage at Suriya later that afternoon.

I reviewed Voice of the Fire in the latest newsletter of Fully Booked (it's called In Print). It's free, I think; you can just ask for it over the counter, but they'll give you a copy whenever you buy something. I guess they don't have any proofreaders, because my own less-than-500-words review had all of 7 typos, and a bunch of missing words, so I'm sorry for the confusion. But hey, it's free.

I was at a wedding last Friday at the Westin Philippine Plaza, which I'd never been to. It was very nice, and sweet. The ceremony took place in the garden, right beside the bay, and near the large chessboard with pieces as big as children. What was amusing, though, was that as the ceremony went on, and the sun went down, the wind kept getting stronger and stronger, and the waves rose, and towards the end they were crashing against the wall and salty seaspray would get in our eyes. A few times, the wave was so high that it actually deposited small, blackish crabs onto the garden. And you could almost see the expression in their eyes, the "What the fuck just happened?!" look, because as soon as they landed on the grass it would be a few seconds before they moved again.

Am I the only person who hasn't yet seen The Passion?

I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry.

UPDATED: Neva reminded me, thanks to her comment: above the review in In-Print it says "Graphic Guru," which I did not ask for or come up with. It's a complete surprise to me, and I would've asked it not be there, actually, especially since Voice of the Fire is NOT a graphic novel. There is a Hellboy review under mine, though, but it's uncredited, so it sort of looks like it's mine as well. But it's not.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

BORACAY, BABY

I better get this done now. Sometimes I keep putting off certain posts until it's too late and they lose their timeliness and just fade into oblivion.

Anyway, Boracay was a blast. It was my second time, but the first time I went I was a junior in high school, shooting an AVP for Asian Spirit, so that was about 7 years ago.

I went with Neva, her mom, her stepbrother Angus and their dive buddy Rochelle. Our flight on Saturday was delayed almost 2 hours and stupid me, as usual, had 2 hours' sleep because I put off packing until the last minute. So I was dozing in the airport. This old guy was hitting on Rochelle, I remember. I was so bored at one point I wanted to buy the new Premiere, which I haven't read in ages (and I used to buy it every month) but it was over P500.



The place we stayed at is Crystal Sand, which is a nice, small, quaint place. It's near Station 1, beachfront, not too expensive considering its location and size. The problems revealed themselves later, though: lots of mosquitoes (though this may not be a problem exclusive to Crystal Sand. All of Boracay is infested with mosquitoes. If you stop moving for even a second they will land on you and devour you.). Later that night, I was already asleep in a mattress on the floor when the girls woke me up, saying that there were mice running around, and their squeaking was SO LOUD it woke them up. The next 2 nights there were no mice anymore, at least. And we had housekeeping spray the room for the mosquitoes, which worked.

Anyway, when we got to Boracay and Crystal Sand and had settled our stuff, we grabbed a really late lunch on the sand, then Neva's mom and Rochelle went off to the dive shops to make arrangements for their dives for the next few days.

Angus wanted to kayak, so Neva and I joined him and Mark, who met us at the airport. It was my first time kayaking, and it was easier than I expected. Tiring, though. And since this is Boracay, the water was crowded: swimmers, other kayakers, people on banana boats, jetskis, speedboats, parasailers, people coming and going from Caticlan, Panay, etc. So there was more than one occasion where people had to avoid us because obviously we couldn't turn as quickly as they could. And towards the end of it, Angus and Mark's kayak capsized, and they had to hang onto ours as we dragged their soggy asses to shore.



Sorry, this guy suddenly walked into the picture. But look at all those boats in the water! It's insane!


After that we just swam in the lovely water until night fell. It was low tide, so we were able to go far away from shore and still stand on our feet when we needed.



Check out that low tide!


The shore, by the way, is cleaner than it was when I was last there. Everything's cleaner. Except the scum, of course. I don't know what Dick Gordon did but the place looks great. Though when I tell people about the cleanliness, people tend to say that it's also because it's pre-monsoon season, which is about May. One thing that frustrated me though is that every fucking place you look, it says either Globe or Smart. Banners, umbrellas for tables, sails on boats, tarpaulins for shade, everything was emblazoned with those horrible horrible insignias.



Look at all those people! It's insane! Not ONE is a topless chick!


Also, there's just too many people now. And too many things in the water, either boats or people. No one's willing to sunbathe topless anymore, and where's the fun in that? Another thing I noticed different from my last trip here is that there is no longer any vacant spot on the beachfront. Last time, my friends and I walked the length and breadth of the strip, and there'd be undeveloped spots, that were really spooky at night with their pitch blackness. Now everything's either a resort or store or dive shop or restaurant or club. There are no dark spots on the beachfront of Boracay at night. You can't see the stars for the light from some nightspot blasting sad dancer music.

We had a buffet dinner that first night at Secx in Boracay, which is owned by some of Neva's mom's friends. Delish. On the way back, Neva's mom lent me a kind of textbook for Open Water Diving. I had to read 2 chapters. Which was about 100 pages. I tried, I really did, but much of it I knew already, and I eventually just fell asleep early because a) I was tired from all the swimming and had just 2 hours of sleep the day prior, and b) my diving lessons began early the next day.

DAY 2

I got to Lapu-Lapu Dive Center for my lessons, a little late, when this Swiss guy introduces himself to me. "I'm T-Joe," he says in his thick accent, "I weel bee yur eenstructor." This is a surprise because I thought my instructor was this other Pinoy guy I was introduced to the night before. I thought I would have the lectures first, but no, after a few trivialities out of the way he told me to suit up, and he then went on to show me how to pick a mask and fins. I'd told him that I'd already taken my Discovery Scuba in Anilao, so other things we just reviewed. But this time he taught me the parts of the BCD and tank, how to connect everything, etc.



The Hot Swiss Dive Instructor, pointing to where I had my check-out dive. T-Joe "ees Leetle John in French."


Here I should maybe mention that T-Joe is a Hot Swiss Dude. The girls ooh and aah as they pass the Dive Center. The girls at the Sari-sari store beside Lapu-Lapu are always smiling when he buys water and bread from them. He is also possessed of a certain sense of humor. Like when he was telling me about the tank. "Yoo shood alweyz check the regulator, inhale the air to mik shoor eet ees not contaminated." He motions for me to inhale, and I do. "Yoo see? Yoo can smell the fresh strooberries of Boracay." And after I suited up the first time, he told me "OK. Now yoo jog two kilometer. I wait for yoo hir. I give you 15 meenits." The next day, we went out of the dive shop, walked a little while and stopped at a puddle. "Wee weel doo the confined water dive here, so we need to do a running jump." After all these sentences I've quoted, you have to add a few seconds of awkward silence, before he breaks into a goofy smile. Once, underwater during a confined water dive, he taught me how to remove my BCD by first showing me. When he had his removed, he pointed to me, made some thumb movements with his hands, then pointed to his back. I didn't know what this was, a check for something wrong with the wetsuit? So I do the thumb movements at his back, then he leans his head back, gives me an OK sign and rubs the spot in relief. Oh, I get it-- he was asking for a massage. I hope I'm not giving the impression that I found him unfunny. It's just that the jokes always caught me off-guard, which is normally an excellent thing, but here I was concentrating on not drowning, and he would have the goofy smile in place.

But he's a nice guy, T-Joe. I was a little worried at the beginning of missing something because of his accent but there weren't any problems. Maybe the only negative thing I can say is that sometimes, underwater, he won't look at me for a while longer than I'm comfortable. I mean, if I'm the student, I don't want the instructor looking at anything but me. Because something might happen and if he's not looking I'll panic. But Neva said it might also be because he thought I didn't need much help, what with having had Discovery Scuba already. Or she thinks he's cute and is defending him.

He's been with Lapu-Lapu for 3 years now, almost the entirety of his time as a professional instructor. He started out as a pro in Guadalupe, has only been diving for 5 years, but has dived (dove?) in lots of different places: Red Sea, Dead Sea, Maldives, various other European places I couldn't pronounce but sounded exotic with his accent. This whole diving thing has revealed to me that the Philippines is one of the most favored dive spots in the world, because our variety of sea life is so diverse. Neva's stepdad has also dived everywhere, from Scotland to Spain, and his favorite place is still the Philippines. It's one of those features of our country we take for granted because we live here.

I had one confined water dive to review all the basics, and then an open water one where I was taught for the first time to do a backroll exit. This scared the shit out of me because I can't even do a somersault underwater-- my sinuses fuck me up something fierce. But it went without a hitch. :) When we got back I was so tired, but had to watch a few instructional videos, and later had to read another 100 or so pages. See, the thing is I was having a normally-4-day course crammed into 2. So in the morning I dive, in the afternoon I dive and watch videos, and in the evening I read the book. So while I was in the room reading, Neva was out getting a henna tat and enjoying the nightlife.

Apparently, the others, who've also been diving this whole time, saw two manta rays, each as big as a car. Wingspan of 5 meters. I didn't know they could grow to that size.

DAY 3

I take 4 quizzes in the morning and get a perfect in the first 3, one mistake in the 4th. If only I was like this in school. I have my last confined water dive, learn some new skills. Mask clearing is still the hardest for me. When water hits my nose I get disoriented and sometimes accidentally try to inhale with my nose. Which of course fucks me up right and good. My last 2 open water dives, Neva joins us.

This is my girlfriend: she nearly made me choke from laughing because she picked up a poor defenseless blue starfish, put it on her chest, started swimming face up, and closed her eyes and lay still. And if you get that joke, then you are a comics reader and are my friend.

Oh, I should mention Harry. Harry's a guy I met at Lapu-Lapu, also taking his Open Water Course with his friend Steven. Harry teaches English at some school in Japan. But when he introduced himself to me I didn't know what to think: he was Pinoy, but bald, big, had a tattoo and an American accent. He told me a story of how they were at this bar until 4 in the morning. And he also talked about his frustration with the women. He said that all the hot girls in Boracay either came with their boyfriends, or some group of friends. So everytime he'd try to talk to them, they'd just dismiss him with a wave of their hands or move somewhere else in the bar. Which pissed him off right and good. I felt sort of bad for him, because what can you do? He was right. How you meet people in the US (Harry grew up in California) is different from how you usually meet people here. His friend Steven showed up late that morning, and dived with a hangover.

Before the final check-out dive, I was given the final exam. 50 questions. I got 2 wrong. But not in the last section, which was all computations, I'm proud to say. After the check-out dive, T-Joe shook my hand and filled up the form that would get me my PADI ID. So I'm now a licensed diver. Yay!

I am the poster boy for diving. If I can do it, anyone can. This is because I'm scared of deep water, don't swim well, and have sinus problems. And lung problems, when I was younger. So if you're interested, go for it. It's much easier than I thought. You can't forget your first fish-feeding, which happened on one of the check-out dives with Neva. You hold bread in your hands, and they devour it bit by bit. I didn't have gloves, unfortunately, so I was a little freaked out with the occasional bite from a fish. But it was worth it. I put my hand in front of my mask, so all these fish were literally beside my eyeballs. Wonderful, fascinating, and mesmerizing. It really made me feel like I was in someone else's environment. And these aren't just ordinary fish, they're tropical fish of all kinds, so the colors were beautiful. The feeling of weightlessness is terrific, too. It's the closest the average person'll get to feeling like an astronaut.

Neva and I took a walk after we got back. I was finally done with the damn book. The internet café is on Globe DSL. There wasn't even an internet café when I was last here. Boracay is still the only place where I can find a papaya shake. That hasn't changed. We walked through D'Mall. I thought it might be an actual mall, but no, it's like a one-floor Greenhills. I actually spotted a student of mine, and this was amusing. I saw her from afar, then when she was closer she saw me and her eyes went wide in recognition, fear and paralysis. And for a second I had power: I could call out her name (which I remembered) and embarrass her in front of her friends. But I was nice, and pretended I was looking at something else as they passed by. But when I turned around, I caught her looking in my direction, still with the wide eyes of fear. Haha.

I also had my first Boracay crepe. Nutella was just-- man, there's no way for me to describe it that won't make me sound like a pervert. It's a spread, hazelnut mixed with chocolate. I also had a Lovely Sin crepe the next day, which is a combination of vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and warm peach halves. Yummeh.

Our last evening at Boracay we ate at the house of Neva's mom's friends, the owners of Secx in Boracay. Boracay proper is nothing like the beachfront we know. I was sort of reminded of the favelas of City of God, but I'm sure it's nothing that violent. Still, most of the time the roads were just one lane, and some parts were yet unpaved.

DAY 4

We woke up too late and missed the chance to go parasailing. I'm scared of heights too, but, you know, when the opportunity's in front of you... Oh well. At the airport, there was this European couple who wouldn't stop kissing. As in their tongues were exposed and occupying each others' space. What's worse is they were doing all this liquid-swapping beside the TV, so naturally everyone seemed like they were watching MacGyver, but we all know what they were looking at with rapt attention. Later, in the airport in Manila, I would catch the girl picking her nose. It must've been a tight little bugger way in the back because she was at it quite a while. If you're unabashed in one thing, may as well be shameless in all things.

By the way, we found out that there's finally kite-surfing in Boracay! Man, I've been dreaming of that ever since I caught it on TV one night. But it's still damn expensive right now. Shit.

MORE PICS!



This is Friday, one of the famous Dogs of Boracay. He's the mascot of Hey Jude (there's a picture of him on their menu), and has to wear that sad shirt everyday because it's "cute." I bet the poor bugger's sweltering. I was going to get a better shot of him where he actually faces the camera but my memory ran out. Sorry.



Here are the other members of Friday's posse.



This guy isn't in the posse, he was just getting a massage on the beach. I didn't know they had that now.



I think this guy's a part-owner of Lapu-Lapu. His barber came into the store and did his hair there, which reminded me of Danny Aiello in The Professional.



This is my Hallmark card sunset shot. Also applicable for those posters with inspirational cliches I see in classrooms and government offices.



This is the only topless chick I saw.

Friday, April 09, 2004

STUFF TO DO

If you're just bored beyond belief, why not try some origami? Or visit a Ghost Town. Or make faces.

Here's the new Spider-Man 2 trailer, here's the Kill Bill Vol. 2 trailer, and here's the first TV spot I've seen for Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events. Looks like Jim Carrey's hamming it up again, Grinch-style. It still looks like it's being directed by the guy who did Casper. Which it is. Here's a trailer for Shaun of the Dead, a small UK indy film that looks like fun. And here's a trailer for Jeux D'Enfants (Child's Play), which will unfortunately be given the name Love Me If You Dare when it opens in the US. It looks positively charming.



Here's a lovely little something I stumbled onto at the Downloads section of Oni Press. They have a bunch of neat wallpapers there, and I noticed this one for a book and author I've never heard of, Bryan Lee O'Malley's Lost At Sea. I love it. It's a great image; lovers' locked lips in silhouette. And the text, if you can't see it, says "When I was with you, I was perfect." What a poignant pistolwhip. It's stark, simple, emotional, and a grabber. See, I love discovering things like this. This simple wallpaper is so fucking good, that it gets me intrigued, gets me looking up the book it promotes, and maybe I'll be several hundred pesos poorer for it. So to whoever designed it: it worked.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

There's nothing quite like Holy Week to reveal how bored we can get. Between livejournals reproducing like hornier-than-usual rabbits there is a mini-flurry of commenting (the fun, useless kind) not seen since the last wave of People Beginning to Blog. Meanwhile I am going back and forth between 2 books: JG Ballard's A User's Guide to the Millennium and Seth's It's a Good Life, If You Don't Weaken. Also been going through Ben Folds material & Sonic Youth (as shown in the heard section to the left).

And was happy today because I woke up in a sleepy hazefog, scribbled some shit down, then woke up later to see two fully-formed comics short story plots. Yay. :) But no artist. Anyone want to draw a man walking through snow for a few pages? He kicks some kids' asses towards the end.

I'm worried my prepaid internet card will run out and all the stores will be closed and I won't be able to waste time anymore. I surprisingly haven't gone through any DVDs like I thought I would. And I'm working on my Boracay post.

Anyway, what have you guys been up to?

Monday, April 05, 2004

WHAT IN THE--?!

I leave town for a few days and suddenly 2 people who had almost sworn never to blog are putting up posts. I'm consufed.

Friday, April 02, 2004

I kinda feel bad for Dave Sim. Here he is, having just released the 300th issue of his long-running comic book series Cerebus, a title he's been doing with a near-monthly regularity for almost 30 years, finally reaching its point of culmination, and it seems whatever press he gets these days half talks about his "reputation" as a misogynist. Cerebus first came out in the '70s, and began as a Conan spoof. Then somewhere, somewhen, Sim decided he'd do 300 issues, on a monthly schedule, and in the last issue Cerebus, an aardvark, would die, alone and unloved. It holds a record of some sort: longest sustained narrative, if I remember right. By a single author (he had a guy, Gerhard, who helped with backgrounds, etc.), no less. Some people opined that Sim would commit suicide upon publication of the 300th issue. Cerebus is one of those series that I always read about, was usually mentioned by a creator I like, and I thought that I'd get to reading it someday-- maybe when all 300 issues are done and the whole run is in big fat trade paperbacks. Which they now are, with the exception of the final volume. He was the first comics creator to devote a massive 500 or so pages to a single story ("High Society"). His "Church & State" took twice as long to complete. Cerebus has been mayor, pope, a bartender, a mercenary, all manner of occupations, and the title has largely been Sim's outlet of opinion and expression.

But in an issue of Cerebus, in the back pages where he usually prints fan mail and opinion essays, he published a long essay called Tangent, which dealt with the "feminist and homosexual axis," announcing his fervent anti-feminism and such. I don't really know the details; I never read the essay in question, just read things about the aftermath, the storm of controversy it caused. Other stories came about: he insulted Jeff ("Bone") Smith's Indian wife Vijaya and Smith challenged him to a fistfight; his longtime editor Diana Schutz resigned, supposedly due to his views on women. I don't particularly have anything against what Sim has to say (I couldn't, I haven't read it), but reading this interview at The Onion AV Club, it just strikes me that the man is an asshole. Which he doesn't have to be. His opinions might mystify a lot of people, but he himself should comport himself in a better manner.

I'm not so sure if I want to read his books now. I mean, the older ones I might still take a crack at, they're considered landmark works. But his recent stuff, post-"cracking up," as they say, maybe I'll pass. But even the older stuff that I did want to read, I'm hesitating now just because he's an insufferable boor.

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Went to a wake the other day in my mom's hometown of Tanza, Cavite. My lola's brother had passed away. Got introduced to a lot of relatives, and it's a little sad that there's still so many relatives I haven't met. Their facial features betray our bloodline, though: one of my elder uncles even rubs his stomach the same way my mom's brother does.

Heard some interesting stories, too. Like how my lolo and lola met: they had relatives who lived across one another, and met when both were vacationing with their respective relatives (my lolo also comes from Cavite, but from Imus). And one of my uncles told the tale of how he smuggled in 4 baby birds from Canada in his pockets, occasionally going to the bathroom to let them out, and keeping them in a small perforated box in his hand-carry when he went to sleep. He used to breed fish but since that incident he's been breeding birds. I remember his house, we used to visit it often during my childhood: there were around 6 aquariums, and a fishpond, and we would watch prusisyons and santacruzans from his second-floor window that overlooked the main street.

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I love the video of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Maps." It's a kind of cross between David Fincher's "Judith" video for A Perfect Circle and Mark Romanek's "Rain" video for Madonna, both of which I also love. All the videos are basically performance videos, except the videos reveal the people working on the video. So they're self-referential. In "Judith" this is played very subtly; you see some people at a monitor playing with audio levels, in silhouette, and that's it besides the fucking up of the gate and film negative. In "Rain" it's more elaborate: there's people watching, and the director (who I think is Ryuichi Sakamoto?), and different sets and producers. Where "Judith" is more of a kick-ass performance video, "Rain" is more of a statement about video-making, the glamour/artifice/commercial aspects, with a bit of performance thrown in. What I love about "Maps" is that there's this constant push-and-pull between reminding you that this is a music video and the fact that it's a genuinely emotional song. I love the shot that just holds on Karen O's face for a while, to the point where Karen starts looking around, not sure where she's supposed to be looking. There's shots of the lights changing gels so that the colors change; there's people out of focus in the background moving things, seen in mirror reflections. There's one long dolly shot showing the entire crew and some visitors (including one kid) watching the band perform, one person singing along, another with his head bobbing. I love when the video uses slow-motion; it's unexpected and near-invisible. At the end the camera tracks away, and the lights turn up revealing the set and warehouse they're shooting in; perfect.

Best of all for a music video-- it elevates the song. You know how a song you like becomes even better, becomes a song you LOVE because it's got a kick-ass video? That's how "Maps" is for me. Same thing with "Judith"-- I'm not really a Perfect Circle fan but I love that song.

Saw some Yeahs performances on video; they have an interesting dynamic, performance-wise. Their drummer looks so-- well, normal and clean-cut, like Max Fischer from Rushmore, or a young Max Weinberg. Nick Zinner is like the skinniest vampire, with a hairdo that's the rebellious teenage son of Nick Cave's, but he doesn't move around too much, seems to just spin slowly (but he throws his guitar like Melissa Auf Der Maur), and Karen O is a whirling dervish of energy. She's the Tasmanian Devil as vocalist. Her facial expressions change and twitch into caricatures of themselves, and she has this dance that she naturally reverts to at times that is charming.

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Will be out of town until about Monday or Tuesday. Everyone stay safe and healthy.