On Judy Tenuta and Stephen Lynch
One of the instances when I knew I was different from my family happened to me during college. They (the family I lived with comprising of cousins, uncles, and aunts on the second degree) would usually pass the time playing mahjong, minding the convenience store, and getting into lengthy conversations with anyone and everyone delving mostly of topics and/or gossips that commonly led to heated philosophical debates that were never ever resolved. Probably even up until this very day. I did not at all find anything wrong with their daily regimen. It's just that I personally chose not to participate. With that decision, however, I felt I became pseudo-alienated. By pseudo, I meant to only infer as the status was not openly expressed. The air, though, was thick and fully charged with a heavy feeling, likened to that sensation on board an airplane when the cabin gets pressurized minutes before a flight. An unspoken truth that I neither found offensive nor spiteful. In fact, I was even thankful in that I could go my own way making spur-of-the-moment paintings or practicing my skills on how to read and write in Korean or doing sound mixes for events to earn some cash. That and more.
As for the more glaring difference that made me write this piece, I was actually referring to the contrast on our preferences in lifestyle, take for instance something as basic as taste in choosing which primetime TV program to watch. Flashback to my good old elementary school years, my mom would have the TV tuned on Falcon Crest and Knots Landing. She also made sure we had our dose of foreign TV game shows and Sesame Street. My dad, should he have his way, would invoke local live coverages of basketball footages or foreign comedy shows. On Saturdays, we, the kids,would have the TV all to ourselves watching the cartoon-marathon on RPN 9 from 8am until noon. The whole new setup took some adjusting on my part.
While I have no qualms against Marimar, which my second-degree grandmother would claim she had watched from the first episode of the pilot broadcast making her one of the first to get hooked with the soap, I opted to draw myself in the confines of the room I share with a cousin which apparently has an old B&W TV from WWII. The good thing was that I had learned tweaking electronic equipment earlier and that skill helped me convert the jurassic boob-tube to receive cable-TV transmission.
Being color-blind at a young tender age has its merits. What others would have perceived as pitiful was, for me, already a fully-loaded entertainment system. Well, minus the remote.
At night, when all three colored TV sets in the house either had on them Barney the Dinosaur for the tykes, Marimar for the crone, and Tagalog Box Office hits for the rest, I had on mine stand-up comics courtesy of HBO. I'd laugh my ass off at performances made by stand-up comedians, especially the accordion-weilding Judy Tenuta. My aunts and cousins would check up on me after hearing my loud, heartfelt laughs only to leave the minute they see the source of my tear-jerking joys. Judy Tenuta's humor revolved mostly on her being a goddess of sorts. She would usually be donning outrageous gowns or flowing robes on stage, which actually works since she is a goddess, after all.
I only found out recently that Judy Tenuta had won an award in comedy. Way to go and very well deserved!
More recently, via Jack TV, I found myself reveling in the same six-pack-abs-inducing laughter when I came to discover Stephen Lynch on Comedy Central. This guy Stephen has a way with lyrics and melody. His performances are rendered with his acoustic guitar giving his audiences a double treat. I was thinking of showing sample lyrics of his material but it just doesn't work its magic the same way as when you hear Stephen sing the punchlines. Do click on the link I provided here and go the "discography" section for a taste of Stephen Lynch's genius. You may also catch his comic acts via Jack TV.
Now, if only I could get my hands on CDs of both their live performances.
After watching just 7 minutes of the X-Men: The Last Stand film via the Dell site through here, I had an online chat with a friend that went:
GIGI: punyemas, ang ganda ng x-men!!! pambihira! da best!!!
FRITZ: galing no! napanuod ko na yung cartoon version nito. medyo luma na yung epi kasi lumang costume pa pero recently ko lang napanuod sa cartoon network ata.
GIGI: ah talaga?! asteeg!!! cant wait! my gas!
FRITZ: tama ba na this week na to?
GIGI: tama!!!!!! aargghhh!!! ang cool nung mga powers nila!
FRITZ: alam ko gusto mo dun! yung porcupine-face no?!
GIGI: ang galing mo!!! yun nga! pano mo nahulaan? gusto ko rin yung parang lumubog sa lupa tapos babalik.
FRITZ: ako gusto ko yung kay Angel. Pinagdasal ko na nga eh, sabi ko,
"Lord, bigyan nyo po ako ng mga pakpak ng anghel, maski na kunin nyo na po ang dalawa sa marami kong talento't kakayahang ibinigay nyo din po. Pwede ko na po isakripisyo ang aking angking galing sa pag-kanta at pag-sayaw kasi ako po ay may edad na at hindi na makakasali sa Idol contests. Pero po, sana po, ibigay nyo na rin po sa akin ang katawan na yun para po TOTAL PACKAGE di po ba?! If that's not TOO MUCH to ask lang naman po. Amen."
GIGI: hindi ka pagbibigyan kse may halong kayabangan e. nothing's impossible naman with the Lord pero pag may halong kahambugan, yun, baka di ka pagbigyan.
FRITZ: Eh di i-revise! sasabihin ko:
"Lord, bigyan nyo po ako ng mga pakpak ng anghel, maski na kunin nyo na po ang dalawa sa marami kong talento't kakayahang ibinigay nyo din po. Kayo na po bahalang pumili kasi po lahat naman po eh matimbang at hirap na po ako dahil sobra ko ng galing po. Masyado na akong angat sa pangkaraniwang nilalang. Minsan nga po pakiramdam ko po eh MUTANT na rin po ako, pero hindi naman po sa panlabas na kaanyuan kasi po alam ko naman pong RAVISHING po ako in my own SMALL WAY. Pero po, sana po, ibigay nyo na rin po sa akin ang katawan na yun para po TOTAL PACKAGE di po ba?! If that's not TOO MUCH to ask lang naman po. Amen."
Siguro naman pwede na yan!!!
GIGI: "Kayo na po bahalang pumili kasi po lahat naman po eh matimbang at hirap na po ako dahil sobra ko ng galing po. Masyado na akong angat sa pangkaraniwang nilalang." - NOPE! lalo kang hindi pagbibigyan, pramis! hehe. may angas e. ayaw ni Lord ng ganyan
FRITZ: Ang hirap na magrevise! Sumasakit na ulo kooooooooooo! Arrrrrgggghhhhh! Tinodo ko na tas hindi parin pasado sa QA! Humble nako nun kasi hindi ko sinabing ubod ng saksakan ng galing! Magtitirik nalang ako ng kandila tas silent prayer nalang para mala-mental telepathy tas understoon na. Kaya lang baka pakpak ng tutubi ibigay sakin! Katakot!
GIGI: korek! o kaya maging mutant ka pero TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!
FRITZ: kesa naman Hobbits!
GIGI: onga!
FRITZ: Teka, hindi pala mutant ang Hobbits. Not smart enough ang counter-hirit ko!
GIGI: and i am not smart enough to even notice.
FRITZ: Alam mo, I just realized, baka kinuha na ni Lord ang smarts ko to grant me my feeble wish! Omaygulay! Tas kanina parang nasintunado ako nung kumakanta ako sa banyo! So two na yun! God si good! Hihintayin ko nalang ang pakpak. Either that or tatangkad na ako kasi dalawa pala wish ko.
GIGI: diyos ko! u r praying for a miracle e. oh well, i wish u luck! :D
FRITZ: sabi nya ata,
"andaming reklamo nitong paslit na to ah! kunin ko na kaya to!" Kunin, as in,
kunin-na-ni-Lord.
GIGI: yan ang delikado!
Poster from http://www.movieweb.com/movies/
Rice and Fall encore
It seems my muse is somewhere in Alaska doing some soul-searching. To compensate with my shortcomings, I'll do a repost for those who have not gone here when I was just starting with the whole blogging thing. This here was originally entitled "Rice and Fall."
In the olden times, when the gods of bountiful harvest still walked the earth, legend has it that the Shichifukujin, the Seven Lucky Gods, hold their temple in every grain of rice. Thus, in old feudal Japan, rice is regarded as sacred. To finish off every grain of rice on one's plate during mealtime is regarded as grateful appreciation for the meal, for the harvest, and for life's continuity. Another equally popular belief which goes, "a drop of wine is as sacred as a grain of rice," has the same underlying concept. Sake, a type of wine still popular in modern Japan, is, after all, made by fermenting an agent derived from rice. A grain of rice for a drop of wine would thus seem logical.
I remembered the story while I was having dinner last night. It was quite late, a few minutes before the fastfood joint closes. I ordered a close alternative to what I actually wanted to have since I had to wait a long while for them to prepare the meal which I originally had in mind. With a bag of soiled clothes slung over my shoulder, I got my foodtray and walked towards the nearest vacant table. It was when I was taking my food out from the tray that I noticed grains of rice scattered about on the floor. They lay strewn under the table accross mine where the guard-on-duty was plotting the time when the branch's crew went in and out for the day, or so it was what seemed to me was keeping him busy. The rice-unfriendly culprit, I could just imagine, must have been shaking violently by the arms from a sudden and unexpected fit of Parkinson's or something similar in magnitude. Involuntary, unintentional, and helpless. I actually felt sorry for him had my speculations been more of a fact than downright B.S.
The guard seemed really busy. The crew were, too. No one paid the scattered rice mind. Come to think of it, no one seemed to notice or even care.
At home, when we were still little pains-on-our-parents'-arses, I remembered picking up each grain of rice which unintentionally flies off from my plate and onto the floor. That had been my automatic reaction from my first recollection of having a grain of rice flying unintentionally off of my plate and onto the floor. Cleaning up the mess is hygienic, for one. Personally, I find the sight of people who would either accidentally or intentionally step on cooked grains of rice (on the floor) rather repulsive. Like a mockery on my belief on a provider of good tidings and bountiful blessings. It struck me as an insult like blasphemy towards spirituality.
I finished whatever it was I was eating, took shots of the mess on the floor, and left the place. I made one last sweeping glance inside the store from the outside and saw the guard still writing down stuff, the crew doing their closing chores, and the rice still awaiting the final respect it deserves.
Click on the photo for a larger image.
Featured Music of the Past (a repository)
Week 3: Old-School Rock
Rockstar Supernova contestants' songs
[I had initially published the following in two parts a long time ago. It had some unmeritous portions that I had to edit and add onto to come up with the one you are going to read below. I guess maturity had something to do with the change in style and manner to which I write these days. I made this for the man-blog.] Since Adam had done a post on his adventures in surfing, I'd also like to share my passion for wall climbing if only to prove that some bloggers have a life, too, apart from composing a fairly decent article if they aren't busy doing what it is they normally do which might always translate to them not having a life in the eyes of those who think that they do. Have a life, I meant.
Enough rubbish and on with the article.
I have started doing the climbing bit to conquer my fear of heights and establish for myself a sport, something that I have not done since birth. Since the start of last year, I have tried inviting several people to join a starter-group at work if only to share with others the experience of getting high on adrenaline for the first time. I have long given up on the sales pitch, one, because those who I invited would eventually leave me cold for badminton. Two, because they might just not be extreme-sport material. Lastly, I have already found me a climb buddy who shares with me the same excitement of going up three storeys over and again, week after week since July, even though she's a she who apparently lives in the south.
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 both beginners and enthusiasts. For a reasonable fee (currently at 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. The fee would include your use of the walls, rental of top-quality Petzl 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 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. A female colleague once did 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. Currently, markings take the place of color-coded rock holds for routes that could challenge the most ambitious.
For the acrophobe, 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.
Tips for first time climbers:
- Take your time and climb at your own pace. Enjoy the experience and do not mind what onlookers might say. Experienced 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.
- Rest as often as needed when already up in the wall. You could do so by pressing your body close to the wall while arms are extended. The closer your body is to the wall at rest position makes you recuperate easier as it does not add to muscular strains elsewhere (on either your arms or legs).
- The weight of your entire body should be centered on your feet. Most would let their arms carry their entire weight for them which could tire you faster. Use the arms as balance support. You will get the picture once you are doing the climb already.
- 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. But that is if you get interested, more so get hooked on this fabulous extreme sport.
For information about local indoor climbing gyms, refer to the
Sport Climbing Association of the Philippines site.
Original photo from here by Simon Sandoval.
I see no point in banning the Da Vinci Code movie adaptation from being shown in the Philippines. Most people have read it and the Catholics who did still go to church. There's this Msgr. Nico Bautista who sees it fit to put a stop or at least create some noise in this direction. An article in the Manila Standard shows how shallow his grounds are. While he's at it, why not push for a broadcast blackout while The National Geographic channel shows the Gospel of Judas or the Secret Bible Week.
The suppression of ideas should not even cross the minds of governments if only to show their awareness that doing it is pointless as it is something that's virtually impossible to accomplish. Everything is on the internet somewhere. An inquisitive mind would not stop at conventional means to know of the things it needs to find out. Now, the interpretation of information could best be left with the individual and pray that it's based on impartial knowledge given by people of unbiased motives.
If the situation gets worse, like people ending up being converts to gnosticism or agnosticism or scientology, then these people should not have been in the flock in the first place because these are the people with little faith on what they initially believed in as propmoted by their original religion. It is in situations like these that our spirituality is shaken to the core and we are left pondering and testing ourselves how well we are anchored and if we are strong enough not to give in. If we do, then it must be for the best. Being of uncertain faith is likened to not having faith at all.
It is thus a healthy environment to be tormented with bursts of tests on the grounds we stand in, be it in the realm of politics, religion, core beliefs, opinions, and stock knowledge. And those who are of strong faith need not fear. Besides, the Da Vinci Code is only a movie. What harm could a movie do?
This post featured here (News & Features @ Look C Find.com)
Poster from http://www.movieweb.com/movies/
One of the instances when I knew I was different from my family happened to me during college. They (the family I lived with comprising of cousins, uncles, and aunts on the second degree) would usually pass the time playing mahjong, minding the convenience store, and getting into lengthy conversations with anyone and everyone delving mostly of topics and/or gossips that commonly led to heated philosophical debates that were never ever resolved. Probably even up until this very day. I did not at all find anything wrong with their daily regimen. It's just that I personally chose not to participate. With that decision, however, I felt I became pseudo-alienated. By pseudo, I meant to only infer as the status was not openly expressed. The air, though, was thick and fully charged with a heavy feeling, likened to that sensation on board an airplane when the cabin gets pressurized minutes before a flight. An unspoken truth that I neither found offensive nor spiteful. In fact, I was even thankful in that I could go my own way making spur-of-the-moment paintings or practicing my skills on how to read and write in Korean or doing sound mixes for events to earn some cash. That and more.
