Pedestrian Lane Accident
A colleague got side-swiped by a rushing car one bright Thursday morning as he was crossing the street via the pedestrian lane on his way to the shuttle bound for work. He had suffered concussions, lacerations, fractures, muscle/skin trauma, and is now confined with several operating procedures left scheduled towards the rest of the coming week. The photos taken of his injured left backside thigh shows exposed raw muscle tissues whose outer skin layer had gone missing, most were probably still lodged in the broken headlights of the car that hurled him to the windshield shortly after impact. A series of operations are going to be done on Tuesday where skin grafting is of a key task. After these procedures, the healing process would certainly include training his muscles to work normally which could take months.
The person driving the car is a college student rushing for school. Not drunk. Not under the influence of drugs. Sleepy, maybe, I really do not know. The good part is that the parents of the student and he himself are almost always by the bedside of the victim, checking on his progress. Assessing the extent of the damage. Showing support. A responsible kind, I thought.
Now how would I act were I on the parent's shoes, I thought, while I was on my way to the hospital to go visit. Would I press charges, settle with arbitration for settlement, or pardon the act? Definitely not the latter. The victim's mom had told us that they had not settled for anything yet and that she's still inclined to press charges. The family of the student on the other hand were pushing for settlement, saying they are willing to shoulder all related expenses due to the accident. Well, I could recall the victim's mom saying that it's too early to really see the extent of the damage. If they settle right now and complications arise during the healing process then they are bound by the settlement and get support on what was only agreed upon. I found that particular exchange enlightening on its entirety.
Right. Money is not a problem, really. As employees, we are after all covered by what might be the highest medical/hospitalization benefit there is. If we analyze the situation, his being unable to live normally until full recovery is the major pain in the arse. Couple that with his inability to carry out short-term plans due to under ability plus the void left on his function by not being able to work.
The fist thing I asked when I was over at his bedside was, "are you ever going to get back to the way you always were before this," to which a well meant, "I don't know," was the only reply I got. I just pray for his fast recovery for now.
Trap. Fear. Panic.
With the way Quentin Tarantino did a play on having a person trapped helplessly in a box underneath the earth TWICE in his directorial career makes me wonder what it is in it that makes him just wanna make us face the horror over and again, with the viewers gripping their seats as though transfixed on the hope that the person lives because there just wouldn't be any point at it when the person just dies, or is there? A literal encore is what that is! And another season of CSI Las Vegas comes to an end, with style.
The famous line by Eleanor Roosevelt that goes, "do one thing everyday that scares you," had flown fast and low in my mind's airstrip as I entertained the thought that maybe the director had this thing with the idea of "being burried alive." Yeah, he did not personally experience it but playing with an embodiment of raw fear could sometimes make it less haunting and more understandable and concrete and real to some.
But then there is this much bigger possiblity that as the script was already done and that there is going to be a live-burial scene and that there is no one more able to carry it out than the person responsible for making the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique as real in cinema as the Lady of the Lake is to classic Avalon.
Grave Danger just made me like CSI all the more.
Errata: Previous Post
Ok, so I went home at a little before 10 PM to catch the second screening of the Count-anime. I opened the TV and stared unblinkingly at the already starting episode, thinking that maybe I either read the military-time format wrong or the webperson for Animax is confused. I saw much like 5 minutes of the show before the end credits (which is in itself totally blew me away, by the way). I also remembered editing my blog to show the three air time schedules and realized that had I actually been writing for something saleable, say a weekly column on Time Magazine, then my sorry ass is really totally royally screwed! An erratum is thus in order to redeem myself. Damn the Animax website!
So much for trusting program schedules. Here goes, The Count of Monte Cristo airs every Monday and Tuesday at 7:00 to 7:30 PM, with replays at 9:30 PM (same day) and 12:30 AM (next day).
A Classic Retold
It's a given that I love anime and manga. Was watching Goukosen a while ago and saw this really kick-ass ad about the premiere of The Count of Monte Cristo (Gankutsuou as it is more aptly named) in anime. My jaw practically dropped! Have never been this excited over anime since the premiere of Witch Hunter Robin at Animax!
We have seen the hit film in 2002 so what else could we expect? For starters, Gankutsuou spans 24 episodes so it has so much room to show the entirety of the Alexandre Dumas classic. It also is set far into the future. Way far. At 5000 AD. Told from the point of view of the count's son, Albert de Morcef.
Ok, so wait a freakin minute, how could something 19th century still be alive by the 50th you may ask. It's much like 1602 for Marvel Comics. Put the same characters in a different timeline and you get a story quite different but much the same. A complex parody, yet simple in telling. So expect a lot of flying metal stuff, and I hope that does not turn you off because there is much of humanity depicted in this media if you are not hooked just yet.
From what I've heard from the trailer, the series' director is Mahiro Maeda, renowned for his work in The Animatrix for The Second Renaissance 2-part story. That alone makes you expect that this is going to be BIG.
Eye-catching are the effects which I have never seen done on this partucular medium. Still-backgrounds are used as texture for just about anything. Would bother you for a while before it grows in you, I'm told.
I can't tell much but enthusiasts from other countries seem to have loved it from the first time it was aired in 2004. It has already won Most Outstanding Anime, Television Category in the 2005 Tokyo International Anime Fair. The series starts on July 25th at 7 - 8 PM, with replays at 10-11 PM and 1-2 AM Tuesday. That's every Monday thereafter until all the 24 episodes are shown. Only on Animax!
Photos from here.
Top Desk Stuff
This little thing has clicks and tricks more than its trackballing counterparts.
Once a white elephant, this little giant proved that some things do not deteriorate with age.
Baal, as I call it, claims to rid of ill omens. It hails from far Malaysia and sees with glass eyes.
Now That's Hightech!
I became rabid and practically drooled at the sight of this baby tagged as I-Tech Virtual Laser Keyboard from Hong Kong based manufacturer Intersystem Technologies Inc. The idea is so revolutionary that anyone would think this gadget could only be fictional.
As most PDA or Pocket PC phone owners couldn't be arsed in typing long messeges or emails via their handheld, this sweet gadget might just be the answer to our word inputing needs (add to that the comfort of blogging over your Windows Mobile 2003 Phone, wohohoooo!) Pair it via Bluetooth onto your supported device and you get to have the full QUERTY keyboard on just about any surface via projected laser-like infrared. I won't delve into the specifics on how this gadget works but visit the link I provided if you are interested. If you do not take the word of the manufacturer for their product, read on independent reviews by doing a random google search.
I have read a locally published review in a magazine that this is available in the Philippines at about P9,770 per Hardware MAG's feature. Quite expensive and the battery life's a bitch. So to my wishlist this baby'll go.
Wall Crawling 1.0
I have started doing wall climbing to conquer my fear of heights and establish a sport which I have not done so since birth (the other secondary reasons being: hindi sya pang masa, mukhang sosyal ang sport, at iba ang dating na parang dare devil---common denominator is form and stature, ha ha!). Since last year I have invited several people to join the starter-group at work if only to make those interested experience the high for the first time.
Play Underground at the 3rd level basement in the Powerplant Mall has a more than modest offering of wall types that would satisfy the needs of beginners and enthusiasts alike. For a reasonable fee of P200 per hour on a weekday and P250 per hour on a weekend per person, you and your company are sure to be treated to a workout that's sure to detoxify even the worst possible stress the workplace could hurl your way, or at least that's what it does for me. The fee would include your use of the walls, rental for top-quality harness, climbing shoes of your size, and a chalkbag for those sweaty palms. The readily helpful staff would more than oblige to teach and assist first timers on how to do proper belaying, climbing, and basic equipment handling. If in case you wanted to go climbing alone, an instructor could be hired for P300. Training classes are also available at a fee for those who want to up their expertise a notch.
The walls are varied according to the purpose of the climb. Do the easy "ladder" for warm-ups and progress to the "mother wall" if you already are more adventurous. My good friend Jean has done the seemingly ambitious climb-up and climb-down on the mother wall in her first visit so there really is no stopping on your progress if you push yourself much onto a similar feat. There are overhangs and angled walls for the advanced climbers so you won't easily get bored even if you had a fair number of visits to the place.
For the acrophobe, like my friend Rasel, the trick is to focus on the grips, holds, and the wall in front of you. Believe me, your distance from the ground would be the least of your worries once you got the hang of it, so to speak.
For inquiries, call Play Underground at 8980273.
Photo from here by Simon Sandoval.
Wall Crawling 1.1
Tips for first-time climbers:
1. Take your time and climb at your own pace. Enjoy the experience and do not mind what onlookers might say. The climbers had been beginners, too, at a certain point in their lives. The passive watchers on the other hand are envious of your guts to try the thing out, believe me.
2. Rest as often as needed when already in the wall. You could do so by pressing your body close to the wall. The closer your body is to the wall at rest position makes you recuprate easier as it does not add to muscular strains elsewhere (in either your arms or legs).
3. The weight of your entire body should be centered on your feet. Most would let their arms carry their entire weight for them which would tire you easily. Use the arms as balance support. You will get the picture once you are doing the climb already.
4. When feeling strains in your arms, wiggle a free hand upward with a couple of shakes then lower the same arm and do another set of shakes. This releases the lactic acid formation on strained muscles thus rendering your arm usable for the rest of the way up. Repeat the procedure with your other arm.
There are a number of tutorials on footwork and proper climbing posture available in the internet. I once did a research in my first few weeks of climbing and it really did help. Yep, no special classes for me (that beign said, you may have already chosen to classify my tips as rubbish or plain BS). But that is if you get interested, more so get hooked on this fabulous extreme sport.
Cops And Robbers
Sunday's CSI New York episode has the unusual gore involving a just-released ex-con literally chewing off his hand to free himself from being cuffed in an abandoned monestary. The three detectives Stella, Flack and Aiden got prints and leads them to a possible suspect who may have also stolen the SUV parked outside the monestary. The interrogation scene comes and the suspect vehemently denies stealing the SUV but readily admits to the murder in mockingly angry tone.
Later in the story, one of the detectives pondered on the thought that the suspect may have been lying on killing the victim because no one in their right minds would admit to a homicide and deny a theft. So the detectives prod on.
The analysis of the interrogation strikes me more than the entire plot because this is the characteristic all people involved in investigating homicides should have: clear and logical judgement. The CSI episode of course does not in any way generalize the attributes of crime investigators in the US but it presents an argument in whether people handling similarly sensitive jobs are exercising the right values discounting personal merits in closing a case whether or not what they publicly disclose is pure unsoiled truth.
Picture the people purportedly responsible for the bombings. Handcuffed and heads held low. They said to have admitted to the crime but were other circumstances considered and corroborating evidence firmly established and personal gain on the part fo the investigators entirely disregarded? It's the kind of questions just just go around your head everytime you see something which leaves you bothered.
See The World
Or part of it for now. There's this free downloadable software offered by Google tagged as Google Earth (Beta). It isn't web-based so you have to install the program locally onto your PC. Once you have it, you could zoom in at different places in the US and Europe and some other areas elsewhere in the world (at this stage in product development). With outer space as a vantage point, you could for example zoom in and find houses and buildings and structures at their accurate locations. Dragging yourself to another place in easy maneuver would actually give you the sensation of flying over to the spot. The images came from sattelite feeds and aerial plane shots rendered into this surreal piece of meshed land and sea. Photographs were taken at different dates, sometimes even in different seasons of the year, so you may see an autumn area connected to something summery. Give it a try if you have a PC that could handle the required specs if you are as curious as I am to know what this commotion is over a piece of new hightech software. (Go fetch!...good dog!)
Another interesting bit is a nifty software which allows two IPods to transfer files to each other by means of a jack. That's right. No more PC needed to do that, at least for the technologically adventurous. All you have to do is install a third party sofware named Podzilla. The cons for this neat thing is you would have to sacrifice getting your warranty voided since you have modified the insides of your beloved. Another is that it is not supported (read: should the software screw-up then its not the manufacturer's fault, or UAYOR). Third, it transfers audio files at the length it takes for the music to play. Now, how hightech and lowtech could anything be at at the same time?!
Losing And Getting
The hair is growing and it's all coming back. I could already have it stand up menacingly at the end and go pointing in all directions. As spontaneous as the personality of its owner. All exciting in its phases. The anime in me returns (grooooowwwwllll!).
Of the Animax clutter, one of the first that struck me is Get Backers. Of the 8 issues of its manga version that I own, I find this particular line said by Paul-the-bartender-stroke-owner thought provoking and wow-inspiring:
"...Always remember...money, status, cars, jewelry, lovers...anything worth having is worth someone else stealing. It's how it is,and how it'll always be.
If someone takes something important from you, then be sure to take it back. But don't look for happiness in material goods. 'Cause the thing that bonds us with one another...is the fact that we've all lost things we'll never recover.
That's...what makes us human."
Cash Coupons, Anyone?
Got this pic from my good friend Nelyn via a forwarded email which has "sacrifices" as its central theme. One of the prior recipients attached a pic of this cash coupon. It says the sender had seen it lying inconspicuously with the loose confetti glazing the unusually dirty Ayala street just this morning. She took it and got this picture. I can't really vouch for it's authenticity despite news that the opposition had allegedly paid most of the people present in the rally held in the Makati CBD last night. You be the judge.
Let's Get Personal
I've already told that I went in line at the Promenade at Greenhills when the time read 8:00am on July 10. Call me a loser but I got a pic of the queue ticket I got if only for my being happy to get a lucky number.
As I am nearing my turn, Ainna called and said "Fritz, you have got to hug him, I swear!" Hahaha! She was still in high heavens after having been kissed and hugged by Neil Gaiman, a great turn of event as she really felt like crying at the time.
After a long wait and several dead skin cells thirsty of SPF protection, I finally got to meet up-close the genius behind the books I have been collecting for 11 years.
From the outside, it would seem that I am explaining something which is actually my well-rehearsed query with regards to the censored cover of Sandman #45. I showed Neil the comicbook I proudly own and asked him to confirm whether what I got is the uncensored version, to which he replied: "The nipple should be somewhere here or somewhere here," while gesturing his pen tentatively over the upper-right hand portion then to the upper-left. You read it right. There should actually be a nipple in the original cover art rendition made by Dave McKeen. Of all the questions, why that? Eh sa trip ko eh, bakit ba?! Hehehe. And that settles my issue. I shook his hand while I said my heart-felt thanks for 11 years of magic.
In less than a minute, it ended. I left Fully Booked and met with Alan and Jess (a happy couple who were lucky enough to have a much apt psuedo-photographer hold their camera at the signing), who happened to have clearer images of me with Neil (second clearer pic above), bid thank-yous hopeful see-yous for the anticipated premiere showing of Mirror Mask, and took this very last shot of Neil through the looking glass in the bookstore. I then re-lived with Ainna her account of what happened and her pictures would tell all. Hard evidence. Happy happy joy!
Below are the books I got Neil to sign. The Sandman Annual is in near-mint condition and my American Gods with but a single line at the spine.
Like most happy endings, we all lived happily ever after.
I Was Home
For three days, I was among those of my kind. "Bakit? Alien ka ba?" "Hinde, die-hard fan lang." :p
Though somewhat fleeting now that it's finally over, Neil Gaiman's visit sealed a very personal bond with followers of his works in each of his book-signing venues. Most present, if not all, has photos, signed works, and memories etched their hearts and minds forever (and that's not even classifyable as an overstatement). Words of thanks fail to contain and quantify what we all must feel to have, as what Ainna would describe, one of the greatest minds of our time here and now in our tiny corner of Gaea.
Here are shots of the Rockwell event of anticipation. Just look at the crowd, and imagine the mixed smell of excitement from all those cramped in the tent. Believe me, it's migraine inducing.
The next shot is from the Promenade signing where many lined up in the scorching heat of our noontime sun without even much of an assurance that they have something to look forward to by day's end. This was taken minutes before my turn on the table. You could still make out the line outside, which winds up inside the mall, up the stairs to the second floor, then down the winded Fully Booked stairs to the shot image.
Then we head off to the Gateway Mall on Monday, where the line was thicker and longer and impossibly chaotic. I had these shots taken by a kind young lady organizer. I'll post these pics here primarily because I promised some young Gaiman fans who I overheard saying these at earshot "If only we had a cam or a camphone..." whom I directed to this site today so they may download the following.
And so it ends. The sacrifice of waking up early on a weekend and going on partial leave the following Monday, the young generation of varicose veins who would grow fast and conquer our lower extremities, the tickets-for-a-book which were not used, the hunger and thirst which went unquelled for hours, the broken hearts for not being there early enough to get in line first, the ones who weren't in Manila and who would have done anything to be in Manila even for a while, the pittance at bouncers who threw more than their weight to the more-than-willing-to-get-anything-just-to-get-their-stuff-signed even though their point was way off the line, the burnt skin of those in line much more those directly under the sun, the time spent listening to unwelcomed fans-turned-minstrels who's idea of music were more off-key than pleasant, the ones who got sick at an unfortunate time of the year, and all other stories much like that which transpired at World's End but which are more tangible and characteristically Filipino. We all have our stories to share of the moment. It was fun and worth it, even if the sacrifice were magnified three-fold.
Three Thousand Words
This very photogenic model refused to fly despite my persistent shoooos. I got him to pause for the camera without as much as a bat of a wing.
At first there was one of them flies lounging about, then two, then four. An hour later, just before I left from work for the day, I saw them two pairs joined by the arse.
Where C2 Green Tea comes from, I reckon. Taken from Tagaytay Highlands.
My Cab Ire
For somebody who takes a taxi to work everyday of his life, I have had my share of bad experiences of nightmarish proportions to note (I'm exaggerating of course, but the experiences are bad nonetheless).
I'll start off with my disgusting cab-hailing moments. Most (I get this one in particular almost everyday), during moring rush hour, would roll down their windows, a signal that they are somewhat concerned as to where your destination is, and after you told them yours (sa Dela Rosa, sa may Ayala), would go their way without as much as a word for the reason of their refusal plus a faint smirk on their face. It's as though their stopping in front of me earned them a week's worth of bad luck! Then there are ones who, before inching 10 meters from your pickup point, would ask for a tip in advance, blaming the traffic or bringing about the recent petrol price hike as blatant reasons. Heavens, I'm honestly doing my work in the office to earn a living and they would pour a litany to hopefully earn them sympathy? Drive me in a limo, maybe I'll reconsider.
Equally smiteful are events while enroute, like them needing to pass by a gas station for a fuel refill. More shitty as it happens when you are already late for work. Then there is Love Radio and its DJs with toilet humor on the background.
There are some cabs that really smell, be it attributable to drivers not bathing before going out, sweating in thier shirts and having it dry with the aide of bodily heat while inside their cabs, or stale breath (much like the smell inside the Kodak Developing store at Prince Plaza near Going Straight at Legaspi Street in Makati). I wish I had a leaflet on hygiene in those days.
Lastly, at your dropoff point, you give them a hundred and they give you a 40 when the meter reads 47.50. Or them saying they could not break a hundred even if it's late at night and you are expecting them to at least have some loose bills from driving the whole day. Add to that some drivers' couldn't-be-arsed-to-find-a-store-or-another-cab-who-may-have-change way of life.
There was this one cabbie who gave me a 30 change when the meter read 40 from the 100 I initally gave. The old fart looked at me and said, "tama na yan no?" I told him, "pahingi pa ho ng bente," for which he replied, "bente nalang ipagkakait mo pa sa matanda." Aba ang anak-ng-pung ito ah! Kung naghintay ka e nagkusa naman sana ako. Kapalmuks! Gurang! Of course, I only ran the reply in my mind. I also got him to give me the 20.
There was this recent incident, just last week, happened the night the gas prices went up by near to P2.00 per liter. The driver was mumbling something like, "puchang bansa to, ang hirap mabuhay, ang mahal mahal ng boundary, tataas pa ang presyo ng gasolina. Mabuti pang magnakaw nalang nito." I got a gun and shot him, one less bad seed in the country. Of course, that act did not happen either. I just told him, "marirap talaga ang buhay, pero mas maganda pag marangal ang hanap-buhay." I then gave him a P2.50 tip. Ha ha!
Some bad experiences I tried to forget on purpose. No point getting stress-lines on your face over scumbags. Then there are some cabbies with well taken-cared of cars and tasteful radio stations on audio. Equal in number to the assholes are the courteous and honest. Some would even give you change down to the last centavo. My hat goes off to these few good men.
Sunday's Virtual Image
Sundays could never be complete without old songs being played on FM radio. The ages-old jeepney I got in on was playing My Fair Share from its ages-older speakers (lyrics by Paul Williams; music by Charles Fox; performed by The Seals & Crofts; theme from the movie One On One; 1977). If that doesn't remind you it's Sunday, then nothing will. It's a short ride so I was spared from listening to an extended playlist of even older songs with an unusually not-lower-than-50 aged crowd of 7 in that very-rustic excuse for public transport.
The chorus went "Justice is a lady. Lay me down with Justice in a long white gown..." In my mind I pictured flowing robes over a beautiful, tall, and proud middle-aged woman with eyes bound by fresh gauze under soft white cloth, carrying a golden scale in one hand raised on mid-chest level and a sharp and freshly smitten double-edged golden sword in the other with an air of dignity and exuding a don't-mess-with-the-woman-with-a-sword-and-knows-how-to-use-it attitude. It has long been Justice's look (since after the 9th century) as depicted in prints, woodwork, and images that went with the manuscripts of the scholarly.
Then a shift. My mental image suddenly darted to a woman in soiled robes, scales askew, skin tender with blotches and scratches, eyes bloody and swollen on the sides, and cheeks burning, but hands still clutched firmly onto the sword because after all she is still fighting not to lose the don't-mess-with-the-woman-with-a-sword-and-knows-how-to-use-it attitude.
Making it real, I tried to imagine how Justice would look like were she in our country in the now. With all pretenses shelved and archived, I saw a tired soul, slumped at a not-so-well-lit corner in a slum alley, breathing the stink of urban decay, not caring (or more like, not having the faintest hint of strength to call on a will to care) over the wounds sent her way by selfish persons of power. She drowns her ideals and sorrows with cheap liquor, not understanding but still thinking and rethinking of a way to make people respect the virtue that was her. The people whose dreams of having a nation-to-be-proud-of are constantly trampled upon by speeding greed-clad men in chariots forged with alliances and influences over an elite circle of equally ruthless tenacity. As years would go on, I picture her not caring at all, a little at a time.
Like gods, virtues survive if people believe. More so if people act them out. Over a country whose putrefaction and rot is likened to a vast place whose skies and waters are polluted beyond redemption, I still picture Hope flying and screeching about. She dons a gas-mask connected to an air-tank twice her weight, wobbling but keeping her flight steady the same time. Her goggle-clad eyes clear and focused. Feathers unfurled and white and radiant. Her cause majestic and pure.
I like Hope. She works in those of us who believe and dream. As for Justice, I still like to picture her as the strong-willed person with unwavering dignity. I don't think she'll put that sword down without a fight. And I truly believe she'll triumph over humanity. I won't stop believing. And still, I dream. And hope.
Smite Them All
This is not a blogsite about personal angst. Not yet. Until now. I was doing my blog when the Firefox explorer I’m using suddenly went berserk. The webpage suddenly did a 10-blink-per-second episode followed by the page closing down and a window showing an error message all in a span of under four seconds! My 30 minute thought-rendered-on-ethernet baby vanished in a freakin snap! Fuck you to hell Microsoft! If I have enough savings, and bet your ass that will happen soon, I’ll get Mac OS in an Apple hardware! I could not recall being this pissed in a long while!
