While NoyNoy Aquino and Jamby Madrigal held separate masses to kick-off their campaign trail, Eddie Villanueva on seemed to be the biggest Philippine flag to cover up the whole of Luneta. Nicanor Perlas, on the other had, opted for a campus tour in Ateneo. Although the Gordon-Bayani tandem promised a no star-studded campaign on their end, I doubt it if they could live up to that promise. Expect tons of gimmickry in the offing.

Say, I wonder if the people of Quezon City would seriously give Ara Mina a shot at the city council.

So here lies the test on my ability to make tough decisions on what to prioritize before I get burned out. Bon chance, ‘me self…

PS

Oh yeah, Saosin’s gonna be performing with Typecast TONIGHT at the A-Venue, Makati Avenue. Slash-wristin’, crowd-surfing and headbanging mayhem starts at 7pm. Save your ticket and exchange for a General Admission ticket for “My Heavy Metal Valentine” gig on February 13 at the same venue. Drooling for some, ey? If you want, SCORE my tiks at a DISCOUNT PRICE. Because it’s never expensive to flaunt those skinny jeans, slash you wrist listen to a band you never even heard of just to fit in a ‘hipster’ bandwagon.

D’oh! Almost forgot. Globe Tattoo. Thanks for the tickets.

- Ondoy and Pepeng fury got our house underwater for days. All the while I thought ‘it was just a typical typhoon’ passing by. But WTF to the nth power! It’s got loads of water with it, literally pouring the streets of the metro. Tried scraping off the floodwater inside our 60-year old abode, but the knee-deep, lahar-like gush was just too much. Got a battered back after that.

- Girlfriend dumped me and got sperminated by some redneck douche. Oh watta time it has been! Got words of sympathy and encouragement from friends and family. But alcohol and a couple of sad songs really drowned me into feeling butt-ugly that time.

- Blood Pressure shooting up. Sleepless nights. Stress. Low self-esteem. Unhealthy eating and drinking lifestyle. Lack of Sasha Grey porn clips posted at Youporn. Those were just some of the factors my body went severly numb, knowing later that I had high blood pressure. Tough luck.

- Juggled my work chores as a Senior Web Copywriter, Project Manager and Champion Coach during our sports fest. Taxing, but a blast.

- Tried to win back an ex, whom by chance contacted her after more than a decade. Then knowing that she already somewhat engaged to his boyfriend abroad. So classy of me.

- Rammed into ton-heavy concrete barrier. Thought that my SUV got all fixed up by “Manong Mekaniko” nearby our house. But no, he lied. I went swerving like a hapless seal wearing off a predator shark. Cost me 13th month of salary, loan from Social security and big chunk of debt to my former officemate. Good luck to me paying that up.

- US Visa approved. Now here’s some glimmer of hope to my meager existence. During the wake of a friend’s grandma, I thought of applying of a US Visa. So I payed all the dues and application forms, scheduled an interview, and collected all the necessary documents that those ‘feared’ grumpy consuls might ask me for. Barely a month after tripping out to plan to go to the States, I got my own multiple-entry visa. Just like that, bitchezz. I thank Lola Loret for that.

One thing’s for sure, I never lost hope. I immediately went to the nearest church and prayed for thanking Him, not asking for help, intercession, or divine intervention whatsoever. I know I’ve got the balls to face what shit I will go down with. How challenging they may be, I am definitely up for it. Test of true character. Knowing where my potential will reach its limits.

Though I still have some tough gigs to do in my life, I’ve decided to make it point to take everything in perspective. Maybe make less of everything I did bad last year, or perform ‘more’ good deeds this year. Or maybe strive harder in whatever endeavour I focus on.

What’s so fascinating about the New Year is that it is full of hope. Planning for change is so geared up that nothing will stop you from achieving it. The hard part though, is to be consistent in attainig that change.

As for me, I already have drafted my storyboard with finality. Now to the execution part.

How time flies when you’re drinking too much. What started out as a pet project (and the brunt of all our jokes during binge marathons) is now a year older. As FatJack Production turns one on May 23 (Saturday), we’re celebrating it pretty much the same as we’re holding gigs for our band friends—only here, we are doing it with some surprising twists. In cooperation with FLIP TV, Broadway Stars Plaza, Rock Republik and Lemon Vids, FatJack Production presents “Jack One Up: A FatJack Production 1st Anniversary Shebang.” Up on the list performing are: Fight Monday, Copperfront, Flicker Fusion, Lemonbee, Bok 76, Plug, Blutith, Freefish, Mayonnaise, Shelterr and The Satellites. No, it’s not going to be held at the Broadway Centrum but the parking lot behind it - Broadway Stars Plaza.

And what sort of surprising twist that we talk of? Well, that’s why it’s a surprise. You have to be there.We promise you, this is a gig unlike other production gigs around. A night of inebriation, fun, friends (and lovers, I guess), and of course, music.

Other details are on the poster.

This is going to be a full Blournalist coverage. Thinking of blog-casting this. Dunno. Bahala na. Syat na lang ako dun. Punta ka, ha?

-30-

Never been a a big DOTA fan. But what the heck, the shirts are cool. And I wanna have one! Featuring the freshest line of shirts to ever hit this side of the metro - DB’s Dota All-Star Shirts from Nano. Sleek colors, tight graphics, fine fabric - statement shirts which really fit you to a T. What about the price? It will blow the crap outta your brains. Contact Nano at the digits and e-mail addies in the image above.

Only a Sunday sports mega-twin bill can make me post again.

I don’t know if it’s the hangover I got from last night’s drinking binge or the hot chocolate that i just drank. Since today is a very special day of sports viewing entertainment, I’ve decided to watch both programs - the Pacquiao vs Hatton boxing event and Game 7 of the Chicago Bulls vs Boston Celtics series - at the same time. It would sound impossible since we only got a crappy old 21″ JVC TV straight form the 90’s at home. Good thing my sister subscribed a net connection with more bandwidth, thus having the privilege of watching the boxing match in a more crisp, clearer and more real-time quality. Right now I’m kinda dizzy as to what to watch between the two. What more if it’s the main event (Pacquiao vs Hatton) already and the basketball game goes overtime, as expected over the series? Good luck to me, then. Keep you posted as to who won these matches.

NBA Update: Celtics won, 109-99. Give it Ray. He deserves it.

Pacquiao/Hatton Updates:

Pacquiao/Hatton fight has now begun

Pota Dalawang Bagsak agad ang Hatton, Round 1 pa lang! Pacquiao on the move.

Tapos ka ngayon Hatton, Round 2!

Drink VITWATIR IVRIDEY! PACQUIAO in 2nd!

Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love. Girl doesn’t. This is practically what says about Marc Webb’s indie post-modern romantic comedy 500 Days of Summer. A sleeper hit at the recent Sundance Film Festival, this feel-good Harry Met Sally-esque anti-fairytale tells about Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a greeting card copywriter, got dumped by the love of his life Summer (Zooey Deschanel). Now, he starts to reminisce the 500 days they were together trying to find out what went wrong in their relationship.

The trailer says it all, contains clever lines, visual eyecandies and the oh-so-hot Deschanel wearing that sinister grin seemingly manipulating Tom and rips his heart out. I should’ve posted this way back months ago until we have gotten a rejuvenated net connection at home. Wait for July to come out. I don’t know about here in the Philippines, though. Guess I have to wait for the DVD to come out. Cute trailer. I also liked the Smiths. And, oh, I like how Summer iterates herself as being the Sid in the “Sid and Nancy” tandem.

Doesn’t Joseph Gordon-Levitt look like Heath Ledger?

(Long overdue. Sorry naman Batch for the late post. Had to wait for my friend Bao to email me his photos on ‘some’ event at Mall of Asia last Saturday. If you wanna see people necking, petting and doing all sorts of debauchery during the Last Set, check out my Multiply account. And, Harry, I expect you to give me some space for your Badegdiaries Blog next week ‘coz I’m gonna be posting my way-too-late-after-Valentine’s-Day, Fuck-My-Life-like anecdote.)

Or don’t forget. At all.

Remembering. Some got a knack of it, while some fail to do so. People reminisce how uplifting—or even funny— those moments were. They made you laugh, love or miss someone you care about. On the other side of the coin, some episodes are so forgettable that you wish it didn’t happen or even existed in your faculty of knowledge. It really pisses you big time. But whatever you do, it still lingers. There’s nothing much to do about it but to sigh, “Shit, I still remember that”. On the bright side, though, you may still praise yourself for having a good memory.

An Angry, Patriotic Mouth

I remember the time how Francis Magalona ‘motored’ his mouth, rapping a music countdown while the pre-Wowowee Willie Revillame thumping the skins during a music countdown in an Alma Morena show called Loveli-Ness. Aside from having been adolescently awed by the ‘tanga’(or the black bikini made popular during the late 80s in musical shows to grab ratings share)-wearing Alma along with her equally scantily-clad backup dancers, I was also particularly enamored by Magalona’s skills. So cunning was his craft that I could easily grasp his words like, “From the east to the west. From the north to the south. The beats don’t stop till the break of dawn. Yaw. Yes, yes, Yo!” The diction was clear. Accent’s so impeccable. Not bad for a budding rapper struggling to introduce such novel musical genre in a kundiman pop-dominated scene at that time. With this flow deeply rooted to American Hip-hop, he used this as a vehicle for what he truly wants to say. Songs like the anthemic Mga Kababayan, Man from Manila, Tayo’y mga Pinoy and even Three Stars and a Sun preached nationalism. Mga Praning and Nilamon ng Sistema tackled the ills rotting along the dark recesses of our society. While Ito ang Gusto Ko and the likes aim to empower the youth as well as embrace love of country.

So what seems to be motivation behind all these display of genius and advocacy for patriotism and social awakening? This is what I suspect.

About to play in a gig at Club Dredd (when it was still at Km. 19 along EDSA Cubao) while engaging in a musical masturbation at the hands of seminal rock group Wolfgang (who played before us), I overheard some dude from behind standing with a bottle of beer in his hand. He was asking for a couple of more songs from them. The band amicably obliged to the request of their friend. A frantic mood of trance from the man whom we fondly refer to as “Francism” swiftly ensued.

It was at this juncture that I thought I had made a ‘Eureka moment’ about him. I guess he had been there. Not only has he had seen it, but felt it. All the corruption, poverty, social inequality and other sorts of ‘shitness’ had him fed up and took part in making a difference. If the rock genre used the whaling riffs of their guitars and the chaotic growls of its vocals as vehicles for a generation in protest , Francis Magalona used what he does best to deliver his point: the verses and the rhymes coming out of his mouth, like a dagger stabbing every motherfuckin’ corrupt, pot-bellied anti-Pinoy mentality in all of us.

‘Beatle-esque’ Foursome of the Masses

Some say they launched a million katutubo Orcs slam-dancing their way to the nearest videoke bar singing to their favorite bubble-gum pop melodies. I say they opened the floodgates of awakening to 10 million (or so) of them. It was early afternoon in our high school auditorium in the spring of ‘92, having ceremoniously spending a break from one-act play rehearsals and trying to make sense out of our boring lives at that time—which co-equates to a snore-fest, basically. When out of the blue, a very low-fi, garage days-inspired sample played over the PA. As if it had only been recorded the night before during a drinking binge at a nearby railroad shanty, the voice was nowhere to fit a decent rock band, so much like what I described in my previous E-Heads Reunion Concert post.

College came, and they were still at it. Our group of friends was to support one of ours in a much-contested wit and beauty pageant in a college where he belonged—or otherwise known as “The Search for the Best in Drag of comedic proportions just to make contacts for work when you graduate and score some alienated but estrogen-filled female species “. Headline band: who else, but THEM. Little did I know was that they had become ‘cuter’ and that throngs of chicks would swoon over their grungy appearance. Years past and multi-platinum albums later, they would eventually reach their downward spiral. ‘Selling out’ (which, I think, is the most painful adjective a rock band would get) would come into concerted boos , plastic bottles (and even stones!) being thrown at them during gigs or not-even-half-filled venues. And the tumble weeds would go rolling the empty seats. Too bad, the very people who embraced them from start would later crucify them for their artistry and musical genius. Yes, I remember them clearly.

How about that last week? It sure was a delight to be alive at that time. So much emotions running through. So many memories to cherish. It was a week of celebration and goodbyes. People loved each other a little even more, united even more—even for just a bit. They wallowed in tears. They smiled, they shouted, they jumped, they sang in unison.

We all remember those memories pretty well.

As for the forgetful ones? I suggest you call a shrink. Why? Coz you would only remember them by the time when they die or bid their farewell. That’s when you jump into the bandwagon, singing praises and chanting eulogies to someone whom you thought you really know—by heart. It’s not good. Pop some anti-amnesia capsules or something.

Oh, I almost forgot! Now I remember: I have a sucky mundane life to go back to. So what? My memory’s still working perfectly fine.

PS(s)

How could Tim Yap miss those lyrics? It’s only “nakatambay kami sa Tandang Sora” and not “Pen,Pen, Pen de Sarapen”. I guess he knows his Pinoy nursery rhymes pretty damn well, but I doubt it if he lives in that part of Quezon City.

To the dearly departed loved ones, rejoice for He is now in peace at the hands of his Creator. He has done a lot for the inspiration of all. And as for that four-piece combo, THANK YOU for killing that unrelenting boredom which could eventually make me wank for momentary nirvana in that dark corner of our high school auditorium during that spring of ‘92.

A closure well done.

-30-

What makes a badass movie? If by badass you mean it is characterized by characters oozing with machismo, spilled with gore tainted with utter violence blended with clever script and witty dialogue, then I’ve just got the answer for you: Inglourious Basterds. Planned for almost a decade, this soon-to-be opus helmed by the great Quentin Tarantino brings together a tor-de-force of cast that includes Brad Pitt, Eli Roth, BJ Novak, Mike Myers and Jonathan Fassbender.

Inspired by Italian director Enzo Castellari’s 1978 movie Inglorious Bastards, this WWII epic is all about two story lines converging together. The first one following a group of prisoners-turned-to-soldiers planning to kill a group of Nazis, and then a youn Jewish woman seeking revenge for the death of her parents. As it started shooting since October of last year, the film is meant to be released for entry for this year’s Cannes FIlm Festival in France this May.

Based on the trailer, I was left with the excitement, being curious of what’s in store for us brought by the demented mind of Tarantino. That smirk of Eli Roth, Brad Pitt’s scar and Hitler’s tantrums will provide me that yearning to watch thi film. Watch the trailer via Youtube. Enjoy the intensity coz a ‘basterd’s work is never done.’

Kinda surreal thing happened to me this morning. As I go about my usual ‘power nap’ ritual while commuting on an aircon bus going to the office, I got a bit startled to see a boy beside me. No. This is not your everyday commuter: alone and no elder person to accompany him, dirty, barefoot, frail as a scarecrow, diminutive, sad and lost.

My first reaction as I woke up was like, “The fuck they’re letting slumdogs inside buses pickpocketting people while unguarded!” But then I started asking him where he came from. He said he came from Cubao, but he originally lived in Guadalupe. “Why so?” I asked further. With a trembling voice pleading for some food or change to buy bread to let his hunger subside for a moment, he was a vagabond in Cubao for two days now looking for food to eat. He rode on a jeepney coming from Guadalupe only to reach Cubao to look for some bread, he said. “And what about your parents, aren’t they feeding you?” He answered me with a blank look. “But why are you in the bus now? You want to go home already?” His hesitant nod is good enough for me to hand him over a pack of biscuits I had plus some money so he could reach his destination and buy some food.

We were supposed to talk some more but our bus was already at my stop. Then I left the kid—now somewhat wearing a grin of satisfaction—to “better use that money for food instead of solvent and get home ASAP. Or else, you may never get another chance of surviving again.”

Nice dose for my day’s reality.