Ishtar On Video
When I watch TV on weekdays at way past midnight, while waiting for the sleep-spirits to come visit and lull me to sleep, I normally channel-surf and see if something interesting is still on. Last night, I chanced upon Anggun's "Snow On The Sahara" music video, something which I surprisingly had not seen despite years of liking the singer (and this song in particular). It's a simple video, made several years ago on a tight budget, probably, as it would have looked better had it been done more recently. Anggun's dance, though, being the focal point of everything there is to see in the video, is something else.
Her hands make masterful gestures that are delicately fluid, exotic, and sexy. Her face simple yet beautiful, as her body moved to conform to the movement of her arms and hands. She had made it look as though she had been born to dance and do nothing but dance a dance that satisfies the senses in more ways than one. Seeing her reminded me of the goddess Ishtar from the Brief Lives Sandman story arc, who, in a time long forgotten, have been visited by Kings and noble men to chance upon her Earthly dance before their expected deaths.
You may see the video by clicking on one of the links I provided above (which will take you to the streamed video provided by Yahoo Music). Photo, above, from the picture gallery at www.anggun.com.
Cute Little Buggers
I make it a point to always take a peek inside Power Books' new arrivals section whenever I get to pass by it's easily accessible branch at the 2nd Floor of Greenbelt 4, which I should really limit doing since I almost always end up buying stuff I would not even dream of getting at that particular time.
It happened yet again on Friday.
I was on to some dinner-place hunt with friends when we passed by the bookstore. Almost irritatingly habitual, my neck stretched a fraction of two inches than it's normal threshhold and lingered on what I could barely make out to be the word Endless on the royal-bluish cover of a hardback book. I waved at the group I was with, gesturing that I'll follow suit after I checked something out, and headed straight to the center table supporting the assortment of latest inventory of books. And there it was. The Little Endless Story Book. Something I had only read about in the net for a period of like two years in the running.
I scanned the preview copy, checked the credits for any sign reading "first printing" or something similar. Nothing. Satisfied, I got a copy and, without wasting a second to rethink of the would-be purchase, mindlessly fished out a bill to foot it's P411 (or so) price tag.
At home, I lazily gave it a once over, checked creases, and read the book from start to end in less than 15 minutes.
The verdict?
Having the Endless in the title had me thinking that it's one of Neil's. Dead wrong. And I realized all too late.
It's in a children's book format written by Jill Thompson (who also did the Death at Death's Door manga released last year) with, well, kids as its intended audience. It's got cute painted versions of the Endless, all done by the author, where I found Despair to be the cutest in a weird nearly-grotesque way. The plot is simple, the pages few, and the intellect stimulating factor low. Then again, it is intended to be read and shown to children (which I go on telling myself instead of sulking on why I ever ended up buying the thing in the first place).
Want to grab a copy? I'll sell you mine for P400! In mint condition!
Bookcover photo from the DC Comics site.
Makati's Visual Pollution
Everything seems dirty and filty as it already is. Cigarette butts, candy wrappers, fishball sticks, corn cobs, bits of paper, used plastic bags, and empty bottles are all over the place. These get attended to in the morning and the rest of the day by our able street aide cleaners but there are just seems to be a lot to throw away and the people just do not hate trash to a heightened degree that they would not want to see any, just yet.
It seems that it is only in the Philippines that government people have a penchant for validation. Consequently, the people they govern commonly have this notion that they must see the names of their government officials in plain view over their road, bridge, paved sidewalks, improved sewage, street lighting, and street-side rails projects to note that they have done something in their term. The billboards and posters stating, "This roadside improvement is a project of: Major Jejomar Binay" or other mayors in other cities or some other sorry ass bimbo are, in fact, unnecessary. For one, they are using up government funding to come up with a poster that is of poor taste and done in amateurish and obviously-handwritten fonts in way-off and visually 
irritating color schemes. Two, it is tantamount to cluttering the urbanscape with utter ugliness. Take the overpass along EDSA in the Tramo area (the one with poorly done galvanized-sheet roofing in dirty old beige color) as an example. The names of its local officials are painted in maroon on the entire expanse of the domed roof to take credit of pseudo-improving that hideous infrastructure! The workmanship itself is a mess yet they still have the urge to have their identities tied up to the project, obviously all in the name of self-intersest in the election periods to come. Ever seen the huge poster of those in the Makati City government plastered over the wall of the Makati gymnasium over at Poblacion? Another terrible waste of money.
As tax payers and citizens of this country, we have the right to good streets, safe environment, ample water and electric supply, and working waste (both solid, liquid, or otherwise) disposal systems. The projects as mentioned are the tasks that they need to do, not an additional feat worth noting. It is their obligation to deliver, not an add-on to their job description. If any, they should be thankful to us for giving them jobs. Remember that our hard-earned taxes pay for their and their family's pathetic existence. We have placed them in power for our own good.
Take those blasted signage things out of our sight and we are on our way to being at par with the ad-less public amenities of our much more developed neighboring countries. It's just trash anyway. While they're at it, please make use of the funds more wisely. There's some stuff way better and needed than a mayor's monogram in every street rail project he makes. Just do so when your family name starts with the same letter as the city you hold office at because I can't seem to see the connection of the letter "B" in everything in Makati, unless we change it's name to Bakati which doesn't really look, sound, or smell good.
Amazing Bangkok Experience
Everytime the dreaded last-day-before-my-scheduled-flight-back-home arrives, I get to unconsciously slip in a state of despair. On Saturday afternoon, while on board the Sky Train to Siam for more stuff-buying, my friend asked why I am so unusually silent the whole day. "Kasi uuwi na tayo bukas ('cause we are already going back home tomorrow)," I replied. Insert melancholy face here on cue, while I stared blankly outside the window of the speeding train. A very dramatically pathetic thing to do, I know, so I took on to shopping and just swore I'll come back. And soon.
From the moment our plane did a flawlessly remarkable landing down the runway of Bangkok International Airport, I knew that the next four days would surely be one great adventure with, of course, the remote and marginally slim possibility of me getting laid with some unsuspecting cute local chick who would actually fancy cool non-Thai Asian geeks who like to dream of actually getting ridiculously lucky with some unsuspecting cute local chick who's head-over-heels and so very into cool non-Thai Asian geeks. Yeah,right!
The City of Angels in Asia is what the Tourism Authority of Thailand more aptly calls Bangkok (or Krung Thep). The Thais, by the limited interaction I had with the locals in the four days I was there, are genuinely helpful, hospitable, warm, friendly, and caring. Though not everyone speaks fluent English, you would sense their urge to try and understand and help you out in as much as they can. Even the cab drivers are nice. So impossibly nice that it would seem the city was once hit by a "niceness plague" where its inhabitants never ever recovered from. Quite unbelievable.
Ever tried Thai food? I mean THE real deal? Thais have perfected a way of subjecting willing tourists to the ultimate adventure in dining experience at very affordable or fairly reasonable prices. Never had I imagined chicken with green curry to have the district balance of several tastes: mildly hot and spicy while hinting a trace of sweetness with a pleasant bitter touch of native peas. A seemingly familiar dish would often catch first timers off guard with unexpected bursts of delicately balanced palatial assaults on the first spoonful. Even desserts, either hot or cold, have an uncanny way in making you want to close your eyes to let your mind focus more on processing and savoring the decadent tastes (other than the normal sweetness) as they unravel in your mouth.
Much like our neighboring countries, Bangkok's sights could easily be accessed by a modern train system. They have the sky train for much of the urban area and the subway for the near situated outskirts. Most of the locals who live far from their work places drive towards the nearest train station and park their cars in the expansive parking lot (down at the end stations) for the entire day. They then take the convenience of the rail transport to save on gas and avoid the traffic. There's also the tuktuk, their much spacious version of our tricycle, running on thicker (and thus more stable) wheels, that you would not even be embarassed to let it take you back to your posh 5 star hotel (I have seen it with my own eyes: tourists taking the tuktuk and alighting in the driveway in front of the main lobby of the hotel). Take the regular cabs and you will find they have left-hand drives, making you feel like you're in Europe (or at least that's how it made me feel like, ha ha!).
I did not have the luxury of time to go to the tourist attactions the beautiful city has to offer but I did get to go shopping at the Suan-Lum Night Bazaare, Siam Square, and MBK. The night bazaare is set up in the big tianggue fashion where you could get lots of really neat stuff for souvenirs or personal domestic decour (easily accesible by the Sky Train). Siam Square, on the other hand, is a place where the hip-and-trendy generation shop around for inexpensive yet good quality apparels. Boutiques line its streets (there are 6 when viewed from the map) and a larger structure in the middle houses hundreds upon hundreds of store spaces carrying clothes, shoes and accessories both for the young and the young at heart. MBK is a really HUGE mall-like building with 7 or so floors each as big as the floor area of Shoppesville in Greenhills! Imagine how much time it would take to cover everything!
My four-day stay had thus ended and left me wanting to go back for more. Special thanks go to my great friends Big and New (with her husband Tiger) for taking time out from their busy schedules to make us feel safe and home.
What the pictures are (from top to bottom):
1. flower in a vase at the Holiday Inn (Chit Lom) hotel lobby
2. the Intercontinental Hotel at the heart of Bangkok's CBD
3. shrine outside the Holiday Inn
4. dinner over at Erawan on our first night
5. tuktuk taken while stuck in heavy traffic at Suan-Lum
6. pseudo-park in Siam taken while resting my feet after walking the whole day
All photos on this post are proprietary to the author. Copyright 2005 by Fritz Tentativa. Click on the images for a larger view.
Mig Does Seal
Anyone who had as much as tried singing Seal's Kiss from a Rose could attest that it's a really really hard piece to do mainly because its normal pitch is sung an octave higher than what most men could usually normally do. It is not your usual kara/vide-oke piece despite the song's popularity in the mid-90s. I bought Seal's album because of the power this track had over me (even though Prayer for the Dying first gained popularity with its nicely made minimalist-themed music video) as it invokes a deep, seering feeling in an unusually dark mood, more like dreading a great thing.
That had been the case with me even before the song was featured in the gothic Batman movie as it's OST. It could be argued that no other artist could imbibe in all the emotions this song could ever require and mean to have other than its composer, Seal.
That WAS the case.
Until Mig Ayesa did a cover version yesterday over at Rockstar INXS. He did the song and composition justice with his personally subtle and equally thought provocative style. He's still in the bottom three tonight despite the performance but he did a more-than-great job.
In Seal's album, instead of lyrics, you would find, as he explained, that the reason for his deciding not to publish the lyrics of his songs was primarily becasue some lyrics, though not as it was written or intended by the composer, suddenly means something to the listener because of their interpretation of the song, or the way they thought the song lyrics went. I made the following up as an example:
Correct: "love remains a drug that's the high and not the pill"
The wrong but meaningful version: "love remained a drug that is high and up the cliff"
Go ahead, laugh out loud, we could never tell just how the wrong version changed the way one person saw the world as he might have held on to it, like mantra, for dear life.
Pinoy Blog Host
You may have already heard of http://i.ph, the ubber cool templates they have, and the built-in features you'll get by signing up with them for a blogsite. As I visited their site and roamed around a bit, I immediately claimed my name as domain for future use (do not go there just yet as it's not even a work in progress, yet). Who knows when we would need to migrate some day. Though I am very much satisfied with blogger and I have already gone through great lenghts in learning to speak and write html and have already spent so many hours making this site look the way it is (despite it looking the way it still currently is), it wouldn't hurt to just sign in and get your name first before anybody else does. Signing up is free but an upgrade to a paid subscription could up your bandwidth and storage memory several folds, to name just two of the extra juice you'll get for your money.
http://i.ph uses Calliope, an easy to follow and convenient blogging template tool which, as its tag line "Blogging as an Art Form" claims, seriously considered the pain of non-html speaking users in concocting the form and function of its net-based software interface. I tried Calliope's usabity and found it convenient yet a bit slow. Just a few clicks and a run through of the list in the navigation bar at the left of an edit-your-would-be-blogsite window could give you a kickass blog template, much like those made by fulltime web designers, but at zero cost (or minimal should you opt to upgrade).
Having both a message box and SMS sending tool is also as easy as just enabling the function to make them available on your blog. What more, you get to have a mailbox (yourname@i.ph) on top of the benefits I already mentioned. Not convinced just yet? Well, they also have photo and video galleries for you to host your files at upon signing in. I have yet to read the fine print as to how long you could get to keep your domain even if you just opted for the free service.
By the look of the blogsites at i.ph that are already up and running, its going to be a definite hit with those who are still shopping for hosts with oomph and functionality that would both reflect and complement the blogger's unique personality and ideas.
Realizations from Frustrations
Two important learnings yesterday: (1) when in salons, do not be ashamed to ask for the cost of the services they offer, and (2) not all peanut butter brands taste good with just any spacies of banana.
Fitness Day in our office was a blast. I got me a free hair color treatment with a salon along Paseo de Roxas as prize from the raffle held in connection with the roster of wellness-related activities during the rockin whole-day event.
So off to the salon I went. I got me a haircut since I don't wan't to look like a freebie-thirsty scoundrel who just wants to get the item on the gift voucher, as I'm aleady due for one anyway. I also let my guard down on having the stylist person talk me into getting hi-lights to go with the free hair color. It was two hours, a good haircut, a stinging scalp, and fifteen or so foil-infested hair sections later that I saw the bill. Let's just say that its P100.00 less than the cost of a good leather messenger bag at Merger. It's so freakin expensive!
The haircut, color, and hi-lights, were everything I wanted at the moment but I could have gotten the same quality for the other services cheaper from other places. Had I known. Had I just asked. It's a customer's right to know the cost of what he's getting himself into so there's nothing to be ashamed of, really, by asking politely. To make me forget the regret, I just charged the whole thing to experience, pardon the pun.
To get even, I left without as much as a cent for a tip, but gave a heart felt thank you because the staff really deseved it, as I closed the door behind me. The thank you actually meant, "it's been nice but you won't see even a glimpse of my shadow inside your store ever again, not for as long as I still fart."
The realization does not just apply to vanity-related stuff or services. We must all make it a point to always protect our hard-earned bucks from enterprising vultures.
Next on the list is my realization that Planter's Creamy peanut butter does not really go well with the smallish variety of Lakatan (which I bought from a carinderia near my house to cap my lunch off). I had a great time with Peter Pan peanut butter with the larger variety of Lakatan and it just isn't the same with what I just had. Go figure. It just shattered my notion that any peanut butter is best paired with just about any kind of banana you could get your hands on from groceries and wet markets. It may not seem to be a great big deal, but for me it is. The experience will leave me tainted with frustration for the rest of my fruit-loving-and-devouring exitence.
I don't know if I could even classify the two small learnings as pains of growing up. At least I had something to write about.
An Alternate Sanctuary
Reading is a way of life. I remember my good friend, Jerome, as he suggested I should venture in a bookstore business since I have this crazy penchant for books and reading while he becomes a chef. It's when you have heart at something that you do that eventually shapes your success. The bookstore business is a long shot from being feasible but that does not stop me from buying and reading books.
I feel pity for those who hate books, as books personally serve as my haven. A nexus for a lot of things which I consider the shaper of much of the way I live, think, and act. In summary, I appreciate it much for being my means to travel, learn experiences, and invoke ideas which I would not come accross on my own from just living a normal, daily routine.
As I have mentioned, reading provided my escape to travel worlds and places, both real or made up, beyond my own or family's financial means. How could one go to ancient Greece, medieval Europe, the shadow lands, the land of Faerie, the Dreaming, and mythical Avalon, to name a few, at your own accord? With great and seasoned writers, you may even taste the stale air or smell fear or be stricken with emotions if you willingly immerse in the temporal world presented by the medium.
As interesting as its plot are the characters it gives life to. A reader person may not have loved but, through these characters, could have already undergone countless break-ups and heartaches and emotional triumphs. The more humanly normal a character is depicted, the more you empathize and feel for them or see facets your past, present, even your ideal future self through them.
Lastly, it is undeniable that we often read to gain insights and ideas, unless, of course, we get our hands on novels and fiction which are mostly just made up if it isn't a mirror for skewed-slash-morphed realities. Then again, these, too, are more anchored to what is or was real, thereby transforming what you would normally classify as boring into satisfyingly enriching brain workouts.
I have made a vow never to let my mind grow dehydrated with information. So, as it still thirsts, I drink from its countless permutations. And for me, that's pleasure transcending ordinary happiness. It's bliss.
Bad Stormy Night
The flood in front of the badminton court last night did nothing to pull our spirits down. My playmates got to the venue late, read 40 minutes late when we only reserved the venue for a measly hour, because of the rain and water level along Pasong Tamo. Fifteen minutes of gameplay was all we had after hastily stretching and warming up. What a lousy way to end the night. Or so we thought.
As the reservation hour ended, we slumped our sorry butts on the seats at the back end of the courts and just observed the players while letting our temperature cool down. There was a cute girl in sporty skirt costume holding an oddly shaped racket. The following are the exchanges we made just to pass the hour and let the water outside subside a bit.
ANA: Anong klase yang raketa nya?
BETH: Wider yung head kaya mas nakakatulong sa pagtama sa bola.
ANA: Ahhhhh....
FRITZ: Prince yan, kita ko tatak eh. Pero pwede ba yan sa totoong tournament?
BETH: Hinde.
FRITZ: Ok? So what's the point di ba (making a very quizical face)? Tapon nya nalang yan, pucha!
Insert group laughter here.
BETH: Fritz, type nyo ba sya (mouth protruding to point at sporty skirt, asking both me and Warren)?
The girl in question has light colored almost glow-in-the-dark complexion holding an oddly shaped racket with lavender colored string.
FRITZ: Pakiramdam ko kasi kulang ko nalang cereal tas pwede na agad ako mag-breakfast.
Beth laughs with a garish sound which only she can make when she's really really happy.
WARREN/ANA: Ano daw?
BETH (Still giggling): Pakiramdam nya raw kulang nya nalang cereals, may breakfast na sya. Pakiramdam ng hinayupak, gatas!
Insert uproarous laughter here, guilty of the sick pleasure of making fun of tiny bits of detail from the players in the court.
Our attention then shifted to another lady player in the other court, sporting a pleated lavender sport skirt with lavender colored sleeveless tanktop and a necklace with pendant to boot. She was really serious about looking the part!
FRITZ: Hey, (getting the attention of Beth, Ana, and Warren from lavender sport skirt) napanuod nyo yung Jaw Breaker na si Paige yung artista (refering to Rose McGowan's role in Charmed)?
BETH/ANA: Oo (in chorus).
FRITZ: Tignan mo si lavender sport skirt, baka sya ang tunay na Vylette (maarteng pag-pronounce ng character ni Rose McGowan ng Violet).
BETH: Tignan mo may kwintas pa, tamang tennis superstar.
FRITZ: Baka siya si Vylette Sharapova.
Insert more uproarous laughs here.
It was a blessing that the rain stopped as it did because we could have been smitten by lightning for the dirty deed we've done. I could not have imagined that playing badminton for 15 minutes in a stormy night would bring so much fun.
Their Dear Departed
I was feeling empathic for my dear friend and ex-boss who just recently lost her husband due to an unfortunate accident in the mountains of Isabela. I went to Arlington yesterday to visit her and her three lovely kids, asked the kids personally on how they were coping (heard they were adjusting remarkably well), heard yet again the story of what she knew was a recount of the fateful day of the accident, and have seen her personally satisfy the curiosity of friends, relatives, co-workers, and associates.
It must be tiring to feel the burden of a loss, deliver the news to the kids and immediate family, have the arrangements done to give the departed a fairly decent place to be seen one last time (and in this particular case, have the body shipped from the province back to Manila), and still answer the questions of mourning friends one by one, or group by group, whatever the case may be. We could not discount the day to day tasks set aside to give way to the wake, like mountains of work and family obligations for my friend and studies for the kids.
It's the routinary recount of the event for each of the guests which got my interest. If nothing else, I'd consider it to be most gruelling those left behind. Shouldn't there be like a video for the guests to see before going inside the memorial chapel for that sole purpose? Or could the story-telling bit be at best considered as part of the letting-go phase? Could be.
I remember the hospital visit I made in July for a colleague who got hit by a car. The parents and his brother, too, had to endure recounting the event for each of their visitors.
Ironically, it could be some sort of unjust justification to say that the stories account for the reward the visitors get for paying their respects, be it for the dead or the sick. The visitors come because they care, and as they care they curiously itch to have their pertinent questions answered, subconsciously thinking they have the right to have closure on the event, too.
This post is becoming too philosophical for its worth and I'm in no position give my insights, being just a pseudo-intellectual with no psych background to boast. I just thought I'd gather my thoughts on the matter in something I could go right back at and read again in the future.
Rest in peace, Tito Roger.
Jack TV Rocks
I'm sure everyone remembers that scene from Spiderman where there was lots of rain and Spiderman was upside-down hanging at the side of an alley when Mary Jane partially took down his mask so she could plant that amazingly original and romantic kiss that would pop any man a boner. Hold that thought. That's the one. If anyone saw Saturday's rerun of The O.C., this exact scene was kitched with Seth Cohen being Spidey (complete with Spiderman mask) and the hot Summer Roberts doing the deed ala Mary Jane in the rain. It all seemed normal but comedic and I think the director and scriptwriter pulled the scene off, amid it being unmistakably kitchy! It is right at the ending part when Oasis' Champaign Supernova was just played in the background. The plot did the trick of smoothly leading the viewers to that last scene and I honestly think the twist worked well. Nicely done. I laughed my way until the last end credit. And Summer is really cute. And I'm sounding like a real perverted teenager with raging hormones and pent up I-want-to-start-me-an-online-journal-and-fuck-if-they-think-it's-pathetic-because-I-won't-give-a-hey tendencies.
Just right after, I had a idea of it being really cool if we could have a reality TV type show on a political personality, the president specifically, just so we could know what type of person she is inside-out, on-and-off planned media appearances, on a no-holds-barred kind of format where she does not have a call which scenes are going to be put on air or cut. I was thinking an Ed-TV or Truman Story callibre, much so if they could show it uncut 24-7 (its possibility being one over a googleplex, synonymous to virtually impossible). We have not had the opportunity to know who these people are on an intimate level and I think this is key should we really want to see if they deserve our confidence or votes in the next elections. The scenes shown from the senate alone, these being short clips, sometimes make me want to do a bang-my-head-at-the-wall act for the really stupid moments. More stupid at times than the points of view of the cast of the new reality TV show Pinoy Big Brother (watch them bitch and whine about their housemates and just instantly come with un called for conclusions). I have only seen parts of the show twice and from those I made a vow not to see it ever again. A complete waste of time is what I call it.
While I'm on the topic of TV shows, may I just say that nothing is as perverted as most of the primetime programs of Jack TV. And I'm loving it (ziggi-zaggi-ziggi-zaggi-hoi-hoi-hoi, from The Man Show)!
When I watch TV on weekdays at way past midnight, while waiting for the sleep-spirits to come visit and lull me to sleep, I normally channel-surf and see if something interesting is still on. Last night, I chanced upon Anggun's "Snow On The Sahara" music video, something which I surprisingly had not seen despite years of liking the singer (and this song in particular). It's a simple video, made several years ago on a tight budget, probably, as it would have looked better had it been done more recently. Anggun's dance, though, being the focal point of everything there is to see in the video, is something else.
