Just saw The Watchmen Movie.
Or: Randy's super pessimistic view of Humanity.




Location: My desk

Narration: I did not bother to proofread this so don't bother criticizing my writing.

You might find it weird how the very first post I have in a long time is about some SciFi Flick. Don't worry, it gets deeper.




So I just saw the Watchmen Movie.

I'm going to date myself here but here it goes...

I saw the images on TV when the Berlin Wall fell in 1989.

I also read the front page of the major Philippine Newspapers when the USSR dissolved itself in 1991. Boris Yeltsin standing on top of a tank was one of the most widely splashed newspapers.

Before that, I remember the original Gulf War and watched the CNN feed from one of the local channels (RPN 9?) pretty much nonstop because my Dad was in the Middle East at the time. Also, my mom for the most part couldn't bear to watch, so I took it upon myself to watch the progress of the battle. (which for a kid fascinated by war machinery, was disappointing since it was mostly airstrikes, some ground engagement from Khafji, and that was it)

I was 10 in '91 btw.

Of course it's all a bit hazy now, but I remember it well enough that I do have a general impression about the feeling throughout it all.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, living in the Philippines at the time, the chances that I would have been annihilated in a Nuclear Holocaust was probably greater than say, someone in central Saskatchewan nowhere near any major bases.

I on the other hand was not much more than 80km from TWO. Back then, the Philippines had the Subic Naval Base, Clark Air Field, and always had a major American Naval battle group patrolling the South China Sea at the time. In fact, in 1989, the Americans intervened in a Philippine Coup D'Etat by flying F4 Phantoms over the Capital.

There's also this deal about Philippine Communists. They were quite active and still are to this day. They are a guerrilla force which conduct hit and run operations against the Philippine Armed forces and certain local and regional governments. They haven't been as strong as they were since the 80's but even then, they weren't able to topple the government. They were and still are, restricted to the rural areas. Still, quite a force to be reckoned with and by my estimation, true to their communist cause - I mean you'd have to be to stick to it to this day.

Also, throughout my childhood, flybys of American Jets whenever they had exercises occured once in a while. Must have had something to do with the relatively low population density of my hometown.

Now, the point of all this was that not only was I old enough to remember parts of the Cold War, but also that I was very much aware by the significance of nukes, nuclear war, and the Communists Vs. The West.

I'm not much for segways so I'm just going to go at it...

----------------------------------

When I saw the preview for The Watchmen Movie during the Dark Knight, I immediately bought the comic.

I love it!

Now, one thing that the comic had but the movie just couldn't possibly deal with despite the lengthy runtime was the overall superhero subject. Questions like: What kind of person is compelled to wear a mask and fight crime? What would comics be when superheroes themselves are an everyday reality? How would a government utilize these vigilantes? How would the public react? Etc...

There was no shortage of the treatment of these themes in the Graphic Novel. The Movie however, like most movies with a lengthy source material, just kind of plowed through all of it to reach the conclusion of... WORLD PEACE.


Now, that was something the movie gave me that the comic book somehow did not. The comic book, like I said, was so heavy on discussing an alternate universe that when I put it down, I somehow did not contemplate the peace that Veidt achieved.

But walking out of the movie I couldn't help but think...

"Is world peace possible?"

Once I got home I couldn't believe how depressed I became. My sad conclusion is that it is NOT at all possible.

I've seen it - and I'm sure a lot of all of you about my age or older here have too - the USSR dissolved. During that time, humanity was not being threatened by a Nuclear holocaust anymore. But, that feeling of hope, it didn't really last did it? Like I've mentioned, before even the USSR was fully dissolved, there was the Gulf War. And then Yugoslavia erupted and started tearing itself apart.

And then we would soon also realize that the African famine of the mid 80's wasn't the last nor was it anything remarkable in terms of magnitude; we would soon see much more afterwards.

And then in the Mid 90's that's when terrorism really entered common parlance.

Nowadays we have Global Warming, deforestation, resource depletion, AIDS pandemic...

All these shit.... I'm sure that if all the first world nations really put their minds and effort into these and many other problems, by my estimation, they are likely to be solved in very short order.

My point is...

Since the 90's there hasn't been anything that you could absolutely pin down as the one single threat to human life on earth; yet it didn't really make life any better.

If anything I would argue that it has been worse considering that we have no real reason for things to have to be this way. I'm sad to say, we don't have an excuse not to devote a large portion of our resources to solving these problems.

All this shit that may not be small tasks, but they could likely be solved if humans just truly got together.

Yet when the Soviet Union dissolved, the world didn't stand united against the common threats to humanity. WE didn't just suddenly "drop our differences and assisted each other to bettering life on on earth" just like what the Watchmen portrayed (both graphic novel and film).

It's just business as fucking usual.

The West continued about its excessive consumption of resources, living a lifestyle quite extravagant compared to the rest of the world. What's worse is that the rest of the world has now joined it in this kind of wasteful excess.

Ok. Good point, Randy.

I guess I was wrong, the world did stand united post Cold-War. We are now United in fucking over the earth and telling "Fuck You" to the rest of the starving, sickly, and poverty stricken of humanity.

----------------------------------

Now of course there is one difference: A threat was introduced in both storylines.
In the novel it was the alien invasion. In the Film it was a Dr. Osterman gone rogue/nuts/fucking crazy shit yo!

Similar ideas have been proposed in other scifi treatments of the Cold War. The Movie adaptation of Arthur C. Clarke's 2010, The year we make Contact treats the Cold War the same way. Aliens exist = humans suddenly realizing we are so much more alike.

So, is that it?

Is that what we need? An outside threat to really fucking knock us into consciousness that we better cherish human life? Do we really need something to hold all of Earth's life hostage and as a ransom, we in turn would promise our undying goodness, finally see all of humanity as brethren?

p

A Year Behind

January 31, 2008


Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: Impromptu. With great regret and self disappointment



I am now officially a year behind.

I disappoint myself with this self imposed project. It would be great if my lack of motivation was due to motivation being at a premium - that I were so busy I just couldn't take the time to sit down and put my thoughts and experiences online.

Unfortunately that's not the case. Motivation is just lacking overall. I just don't seem to have the lust for life at this time.

I suppose I was busy for a solid two months with some job I thought would be nice to do. But now that's come and gone, I have no excuse.

T, N49

Calls to Home II

Composition: Homesick for the Philippines.

Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

In a previous post where I narrated a call I made to the Philippines, I put in the title of "Calls to Home".

To be honest I don't remember anymore if it was intentional that I referred to the Philippines as "Home", or whether it was only accidental.

Was I going for the ironic suggestion that despite 10 years (almost 11 now) of existence here in Canada, I still consider the Philippines my one and true"home"? Was I going for some kind of poetic writing effect? Perhaps in wanting to sound like a hopeless romantic who pines for where he formed his childhood memories, I made the conscious choice to put that in as the title. Certainly, the latter part of that entry would suggest this to be the case:

"...in order to spend the rest of our lives exclusively with a special someone, we usually cite the one criteria that we HAVE to be in love.

Why can't we be then in love with a place? I mean, when we pick a place to settle, we're pretty much saying that we're going to spend the rest of our lives there."

Considering I wrote that to close the entry, it's not so much a stretch anymore to think that I may have been going for the sentimental effect.




On the other hand, it could have been an unconscious mistake; a Freudian slip of sorts. Frankly I don't remember wanting to hide a latent meaning to what I was writing. Now, whether that was an effect of my inebriation at the time, or just because a lot has happened since then (the original entry was made in August) , I really don't know. One thing I do know though is that if I were truly going for the hidden suggestion, then I was too successful in that I caught it only now. Then again, I'm not that good of a writer, so the possibility that it was subtle enough to escape my notice until now is somewhat unlikely.

Whatever the case, I'm using that thread title again but now with the outright intention to suggest that in the 4 months I spent in the Philippines, I felt a certain sense of being "home" more than any of the nearly eleven years I have spent so far here in Calgary, Alberta.

It's a feeling that I am unable to justify fully at this time.



But justified or not, I felt "home"sick so I gave Cousin Marco a call in his cell, just minutes ago. It's the 30th of December here, so that would make it the 31st there*, New Years Eve. I predicted that there would probably be a gathering in the Gulinao Property and that they would probably all (or at least mostly) would be there. Well, my predictions were correct, and like what happened last year, and every year before that, there was a gathering, and at least an animal was slaughtered for the occasion. The afternoon would see them having goat.

"Talaga? (Really)" I asked, "Ano anong putahe gagawin?(What dishes are being made out of it?)"

"Marami! (Lots!)" Marco replied, "Yung isa my gata, yung common caldereta, at yung adobo, tapos syempre susubok kami ng papaitan. (Well, there's one with coconut milk, then there's caldereta, then adobo, and then maybe we'll see and try if we can make papaitan out of it.**)"

"Oo nga pala (Oh yeah)," Marco continued, " 'Andito kami sa puno ng Caimito, sa pagitan nung babuyan at kusina (We're doing the cooking here under the Caimito tree, in between the pigpen and the outdoor kitchen)"

I closed my eyes and I was there again. With Uncle Captain's*** Roosters crowing in the background, I was there all over again. Amazing how one phone call brings me back and perks me right up - alleviating some other bad feelings.

I later browsed through the photos I took and found this one for reference.


The animal in the above photo is a pig, and those two guys are strangers to me (volunteer helps), but it doesn't take much for me to imagine what the scene may have looked like. Also, that photo is year plus a few days old, during the Barangay Hall Christmas party. Exactly a year ago was Janelle Marlyze's Christening.



Holdonasec...

A year ago? Has it been that long? Hard to believe, but that's how life goes I suppose. Time passing by is inevitable, and I have to realize that pretty soon any sort of life decision wouldn't matter anymore, and that procrastination could postpone any self imposed projects permanently.

Cryptic? I know. I'll elaborate later.






*- I have this thing set to Philippine time, which is Standard Time +0800 UTC, as opposed to Alberta which is - 7 hours UTC

**- That he said 'try' is significant in that papaitan is an Ilocano specialty, and when done in the Tagalog region, I find that it somewhat always ends up being a lighter, slightly more diluted, version.

***- Local elections were recently just held, and My Uncle, the Kapitan, won once again. Good to know that the leadership of Tumana is in good hands, and what's more significant for me is that I could still call him Captain Uncle, Kapitan, or just "Kap".

T

Suicidal
Battling with Seasonal Affective Disorder*

or

Why I haven't been writing too much.


Location: My own depressing existence in Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: An offshoot of a post I made in some other private forum a week ago. Some parts are verbatim, some parts I tinkered with to suit this one person monologue of a blog.


I really should put into consideration the weather and the general year-round climate of a place if I were to pick somewhere to settle down. I am solar powered. Not having Sunshine does me a lot of damage.

Last year, I WAS NOT here, where I am right now in Calgary, and I had loads of fun. Hell, that's the whole point of this blog - that was the one event that spawned this medium I dub as a one man monologue. "Randy's Existential Trip" I call this, where I embark on a journey to find myself.

Still, because the likely available livelihood and the resulting realistically obtainable life comforts I could attain in the Philippines weren't likely to suit me, I didn't think it was a place where I could settle down, despite the tropical climate completely agreeing with me and all. Alberta ain't so bad, despite the winter, I thought. I'll give it another chance. Well, at least that's what I assumed at the time; having lived in First world Canada and thusly spoiled by her riches. Every day since however, I have been reviewing that position.

Hence the new tone you might have noticed. What tone?

The tone where I pit these two places as if this were a contest. Alberta, Canada and the Philippines vying for a place where Randy will choose to settle - or at least a place to live out a few decades. It is in this respect Alberta is failing. Bad. And it's all because of how I'm feeling right now.

Hopefully I'm not being emo. Emo kids are lame.

But these thoughts; how I'm feeling. So hard to turn away from. It's nagging, constantly there. Just fucking there.

I can't turn it off. It's less troubling than it is annoying. It's winter and I love winter driving. I usually would head out to slide and (since I drive a FWD beater this year, with the Lancer being sidelined) practice my rally style left foot braking at this time. And I have been doing so, with the hope that focusing on something would take my mind away from these nagging thoughts.

Yet, they don't.

Still there.

And no, "these thoughts" that I mention - they're not necessarily suicidal per se in that I wanna "off" myself.

But rather...

A general lack of enthusiasm for existing.

Sad? Oh man, I wish I were sad. Sad was Grade 10. Sad is juvenile. At least sad means things matter enough for you to care to be sad.

This on the other hand? Completely different. It's numb. It's as if nothing mattered enough to be the reason to exist. Being a guy who's secular, I have no arrogant beliefs I can draw from. No stockpile of trite and hackneyed spiritual cliches that give meaning and purpose to the life and existence of those feeble minded enough not to find one for their own.

And in case you feel like it, don't give me one, it'll just piss me off. I don't mean to offend anyone.

I'm a guy who lives for the moment. Moments whose purpose and meaning I have assigned myself.

Yet the moments I have right now, are barely worth living for - at least that's the rationale. Ok, so this summer when I had a lot of good weeks, every day didn't really amount to being good. SO what sustained me? The future - whether mere moments away or the decades ahead that I imagine.

Right now though, nothing. I either have no motivation to think about it at all, or have no imagination at this time.

It'd be great if I were just pessimistic. At least pessimism means I'm trying to imagine some kind of future different from the here and now.

Nothing physical, nothing emotional, and nothing traumatic at all is bothering me. And that's what's so troubling.

I just can't seem to stand not living every day where nothing stimulating happens. Something, anything at all would be nice. I guess it's my fault for not pursuing anything. But how can I pursue anything when I have no motivation at all. Not in this weather. Not without the Sun.





I'm sorry if this post is disjointed and largely pointless. It's a perfect reflection of how I'm feeling right now - disjointed and largely pointless. This too is the reason why I haven't been writing much. It's hard to be objective and true to your writing when you're not being true to yourself. And where you ask is myself? Gone in hibernation for the winter, as far as I could tell.

T, N48

Why Keep On Telling The Story?
Musings on Life, Identity, Society, Mortality, and how it all ties to this form of storytelling.

Part 1: Life
Part 2: Identity
Part 3: Social Commentary



Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: I don't plan anything. Almost everything I write pretty much just determines it's own course. I may plan and make outlines, but then I wouldn't follow that anyway.



I visit a number of online Message Boards. All kinds of them; running the gamut from a forum for enthusiasts of a certain make and model of car, to something as generalized as a "Dear Abby" for adolescents and young adults.

As well, my level of involvement runs the scale from being a lurker, to even having been charged with moderator and administrative powers.

Now, if one were to make a list of all the forums I frequent, one thing would be conspicuously absent : Forums that cater exclusively to a Filipino crowd. This comes as a surprise to some. For all my pining and my longing to visit the Philippines again this winter of 2007-2008, I don't seem to seek out Filipino online discussions. I do check out other Filipino bloggers (see the links on the side bar), Philippine news, and the other issues regarding the Philippines itself. But other than that, I don't particularly belong to any online Filipino community. This is strange since there is not a shortage of websites with forums catering to the international Filipino. We have spread all over the world as foreign workers, migrant residents, and statesmen of all sorts. And it is for this reason why the Filipino has embraced the internet completely and wholeheartedly. It is a priceless tool for bringing together and communicating with other people from similar backgrounds who have found themselves in such disparate locations all over the globe.

For this lack of participation I have neither an excuse nor justification. I don't have to. I mean, I don't have any participation with any exclusively Filipino online community (except perhaps this blog as a contribution) because that's just the way it works out for me. I use the internet to connect with other people with the same interests - such as the case with my car hobby. Whether I bump into other Filipinos is just incidental.

Besides, this blog entry isn't about my online participation, but rather what I recently just experienced online.

Despite my not browsing too many exclusively Filipino Message Boards, I'd be lying if I said it didn't excite me to find other Filipinos perusing the same message boards that I frequent.

This is what brought on this blog entry.



Once in a while, in a forum with a specific interest, yet with an internationally diverse crowd, you would get "shout out" type of posts. And with enough Filipinos hailing from all over the globe in one forum, it is almost inevitable that sometime in that message board's lifespan there will be a "shout out" post to all the Filipino members.

These kinds of posts always excite me. I always make it a point to show off my Filipino identity by making entries in Tagalog, telling jokes of the variety that would appeal to Philippine humour, or perhaps telling anecdotes that wouldn't mean much to people of other backgrounds but would strike a chord with anyone who would consider their identity and sensibilities to be still mostly Filipino.

One time, just recently, whilst making many consecutive posts in Tagalog, in a forum that doesn't necessarily cater to Filipinos yet has quite the Filipino membership, somebody asked,

"No offense, but Provinciano kaba?" (translated "No offense, but are you from the Provinces?")

No offense?

NO OFFENSE???

"Now why would anyone start off a question with 'No offense' ", I thought. For me, what this means is that, in general, if they were wrong in their suspicions - as in if I were not from the Provinces - I could potentially have taken offense to that assumption. It is a 'loaded' remark, so to speak.

So that begs the question: Is there something particularly bad about being a Provinciano (someone from the provinces) ?

For some Filipinos, yes. Some.

It is a kind of Philippine Elitism. I have already made passing comment of this in another entry.

Manilenos (residents of Manila), and other Filipinos living in the more cosmopolitan urban areas of the Philippines, tend to look down upon the rural and Province dwellers. But not all city folk look down on the Province folk - in fact I worry that since I am making a post about it, that I might impress upon others that it's far worse than in real life.

Still, it exists.

"Promdi" is the derogatory label used. And what it describes is the caricature of the unsophisticated, sometimes uneducated, oft times a simpleton, rural dweller.

Although primarily a prejudice against someone's geographical roots, it is at the same time a class, and ethno-cultural prejudice. In the larger picture, it is a subscription to negative cultural and linguistic stereotypes; the decadent Visayan, the cheapskate Ilocano, the underhanded Capampangan, the vice ridden Batangueno... to name a few.

What's more sad is that these things are not just held as a belief, but they also sometimes come out in practice; Filipinos are quite capable of discriminating against their fellow Filipinos as I have witnessed during my trip (of which I was getting ready for, about this time last year)

It's sad and unfortunate. And just as unfortunately, I have so far failed to narrate too much of these negative things I witnessed.

One excuse I have is that I haven't really gotten around to telling the story of my backpacking, island-hopping adventure. (My last narrative entry was me having a haircut 8 months ago!)
I have so far strived to make the narration in the order as things happened, and I'm not about to break tradition.

Regardless of that fact, reading back some of my previous entries, it seems as though I was all praise - full of nothing but an idealized and romanticized view of the 'Motherland'.

Well, even Rizal, with his intense love and veneration for the Philippines, spoke unflatteringly of all the social ills he saw. In Noli Me Tangere, in dedicating his book to the 'Motherland', he wrote:

"...I will attempt to faithfully reproduce your condition without much ado. I will lift part of the shroud that conceals your illness, sacrificing to the truth everything, even my own self-respect, for, as your son, I also suffer in your defects and failings." (*)


Similarly, though not to the same extent and grandeur as Rizal's works, I originally intended for this blog to not only serve as a place where I could tell my story, but also where I can inject my own social commentary.

And so, a third reason to continue telling the story emerges: to analyze the Philippine condition as objectively as I can. For only in being frank and honest about our own grotesqueries could we ever have a chance of ever fixing them.

Enough of this self-indulgent, 'me me me' crap.



* - From the translation by Soledad Lacson-Locsin.

N47, T

Reminders

Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: Impromptu. Full on Sisig and some Corona Beer. I also have the TV on with Godfather Part I showing on channel 26 on basic Shaw Cable - "Speak Softly Love" occasionally punctuating the movie's soundtrack.





"O, may Sisig ako! (Hey, I brought home sisig)", was the first thing my Dad said the first time we saw each other today.

Ahhhh Sisig. That dish whose origins are actually from leftover lechon ( 1, 2 ) is in itself a perfect example of the admirable Filipino spirit of making the most of what you have - or what you have left.



It was around an hour ago, 6pm maybe. Both him and I just got back from work. Him from his job assembling gigantic fluid valves, and myself from my landscaping job where I either pilot a single axled, big block V8 dump truck with a 12 ton gross capacity, or a measly wheelbarrow only capable of hauling around about 250kg of load per trip.

My parents and I, we never get to see each other until the end of the day during the weekdays. Until a full day's worth of hard work when we get home - that's the only family time we really get in this hustle and bustle Albertan boom economy.

Being the only occasion where we could really get together, you'd think we'd make up for it by having a grand dinner where we talk about the day behind us and the days ahead of us. You know, the stuff you see the Italians, the Spanish, the French or any other Latin culture doing all the time on TV and movies. Loud, boisterous, happy family dinners.



But no, we don't even have time for that.

No time to cook anything. Besides, being in a blue collar line of work means we're also too tired to prepare anything that takes longer than a few tens of minutes. And being in the lower tier income bracket we really haven't enough disposable income to devote to eating out in restaurants too much.

Just microwave something out of the fridge cooked by mom over the weekend.

Open up something canned.

Or maybe on the rare occasion, I may get to have those ready made meals. The kind where the bottom is black molded plastic and the top is clear cellophane that you're supposed to stab with a knife before putting it in the microwave. This is so the heated gases don't pressurize the cellophane to the point of explosion.

Whatever. I always make it a point to not to stab it anyway just so I could have some dinner entertainment. I may have to clean the microwave later, but at least I saw something pop and make a mess.

This is what passes for my daily life here in Canada.



This was supposed to be a place where I'm supposed to be having a much more improved quality of life.

But as I pause and reflect on that - as in, how exactly do I define "Quality"? As far as I remember, this type of rushed and pre-prepared dinners was daily fare when we were still in the Philippines. Mom worked in the capitol and had no time in the mornings or the evenings, and Dad too was busy being an in demand veterinary consultant. So I wonder: Am I necessarily living a better life as I would have if I were in the Philippines? As in, supposing I never moved? Or, maybe I did a re-migration?

It's hard to picture the possibilities for they could range anywhere from the most mundane to the most fantastic. It's hard to really picture anything, for if I learned anything during my travels, anything is possible, really.

Whatever the case, aside from taking home various sorts of images, impressions, and mindsets, I also took home a great deal of self realization.

One of those is the realization that I am actually quite low maintenance.

(oh, they just showed the scene during Michael Corleone's honeymoon in Sicily. You know, the scene where they show Appolonia's boobies)

Where was I? Oh yeah, low maintenance.

I found out that I could exist with very little provided that I get to experience two things: Some excitement once in a while, and the time to pause and reflect.

I found out that I could actually have less, yet still be happier.

As well, I especially remember the words I spoke in reply to the most commonly asked question as soon as I got back here in Canada.

The line of greeting usually went like, "Good to have you back."

"I'm not sure if I'm actually glad to be back", I'd reply.

(Sonny just got killed at the toolbooth. They cut out some of the more violent clips, notably the one where one gunman with the Tommy Gun fires one last burst point blank range to make sure Vito Corleone's eldest is dead.)

"Isn't Canada good enough?" they'd then question me.

"No, it's not that," I then would answer, "It's just that, it totally answered for me the question of 'Can I leave my Canadian life?' The answer is 'Yes, without a second's hesitation.' "


And why is that you ask?

Don't I have any vested interests here?

(Appolonia just blew up inside Michael's car - she triggered the car bomb that was meant for Michael)

Nothing that I can't leave behind.

(Below, my Right Hand Drive, Japanese import, 1992 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution 1 that's disguised as a III. Photo by Ian Gulinao )

Even now, even after I've just dropped nearly 9 grand into a car that I find so hot, exotic, fast, and absolutely insane in its power and speed potential, I don't think I'd have second thoughts in turning it over - so long as it's for some profit or the same price that I've spent on it so far.

Ok, so maybe I haven't bonded with the thing yet.

My previous car, a 1988 Mk1 Toyota MR2 NA Hardtop, was something I've gone through hell and back. It was a car that I've assaulted blizzards of winter, the promise of springs, the heat of summers, and the gloom of many autumns. It was a car that I knew inside out and then some. I've raced it... I've cruised it... I've driven it for long stretches... for short jaunts... I've even crashed it! I went through everything with that car and knew her character inside out. It handled great, and it was a unique, funky, quirky car. I had the most fun with that thing.

It may have had rust. It was relatively slow and weak. It was less car through and through. However, she was MY car.

Racing photo credits Clockwise from Top Right: Matt Pearson, Shawn Bishop, Shawn Bishop. All posted without permission. Would gladly remove should the said photographers deem this unacceptable usage.

The Lancer Evolution 1 (disguised as a III) however, hasn't really inspired confidence in me - what with all the damned fixables and serviceables I'm finding right now.

Despite that, I'm giving it a chance.
Despite being a car that was the foremost reason why I'm not going to the Philippines this time.

In fact, that's actually why the car is fast becoming one of my biggest regrets; I fucking traded another Christmas and New Year spent in the Philippines just so I could have this car.

And what kind of car did I get?

(Photo by Ian Gulinao)
The suspension, in it's stiffness and lowness, is a tarmac setup meant for absolute speed that it'll be undrivable in the gravel and dead of winter without a few changes. The brakes also need servicing in the form of new Rotors, Pads, and a full brake flush. The underbody needs some undercoating - in Japan they treat cars so disposable, they don't bother to undercoat their cars with the rock proof tar.




And just recently, the 15 year old plastic radiator cracked.I have a full aluminum racing radiator on order, but the wait is killing me. The car, for all intents and purposes, is undriveable in this condition and will be until the rad gets here from Hong Kong. That's what I get for buying an exotic. They're not much. I can do them all myself - in fact I've repaired far worse from the MR2.



It's just that... Right now I'm not sure if my enthusiasm to have a fast driving and awesome handling car is enough to make me want to keep this thing. It's A LOT of car for the cash I shelled out, but I'm not so sure if I'm willing to put up with its quirks as I did with the MR2.

As pretty...


...and as hot as it may be.

Rally racing heritage. 250hp, 0-100kph in 5 seconds. Turbo, All Wheel Drive. Tommi Makinen, anyone?

(Photo by Ian Gulinao)

(Photo by Ian Gulinao)

So anyway... all these. These frustrations, setbacks, and regrets.

They're all swimming in my head right now that, for once, I was thankful the meal that my dad brought home turned out to be take out Sisig he got from Shun Fat, a Chinese Grocery store with a ready to eat meal section.

Despite heating it up in the microwave, despite adding mayonnaise instead of the authentic Ox brain, and despite it not being decadently greasy, it was enough to bring me back to a few months ago when I had Sisig in the Philippines.


I'm not even sure how many times I ate this dish whilst over there. Whatever the case, two instances stand out: During my last hour in Sabang Beach, Palawan (although I had the Tuna Sisig variation), and during cousin Marco's birthday with the Sisig that cousin Jojo prepared himself complete with sizzling plate.

This was food prepared with painstaking preparation and loving attention to detail so that it tastes just right. When it was eaten, it was done so in the loving presence of all involved.

None of this instant, ready made, reheat it up, and then consume, kind of food.

That latter kind isn't so much a meal as it is ingestion of necessary food materials for sustenance. Sustenance just so we could keep on functioning and serving this boom economy that is Alberta's.

I hunger for meals that are at least a bit more ritualized, where food itself is regarded with a bit more respect and art.

More and more the meaning of Tyler Durden's words strike a chord with me...

"Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need"
-The Character Tyler Durden, in Chuck Palahniuk's "Fight Club"

No time for self. No time for family. No time for any real personal fulfillment and development.

Hell, I haven't even got time to update this blog too often.

That's my gripe.



I'm learning more and more that material crap that's turning out to be not exactly all that fulfilling. The Sisig, being a dish of leftover Lechon parts, became a reminder that sometimes, good things could come out of un-extravagant things - you don't need opulence to feel good.


...


I'd like to end this on a happier note - to put a more cheery coda that summarizes my previous rap yet see it from a perspective that's more positive - but I can't.

"The things you own end up owning YOU."
-the character Tyler Durden, from the the book "Fight Club"

(Don Vito Corleone just had a heart attack in the tomato Orchard whilst playing with one of his grandsons)


I just can't.

(Tessio just arranged his betrayal of Micheal during Mama Corleone's funeral. Hey, despite being "impromptu" I do take a while to write things out because I revise, re read, and tweak it many times over)


----------------------


UPDATE: The Next Day.

Here's that good note.

Today, the morning after last night, I had brunch with the family. Kare kare with authentic Bagoong from Pangasinan.

Good stuff.

P

September 17, 2006

Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: Kinda excited from a recent purchase



It's my 26th Birthday.

I bought myself a present.


Seller's photo.


More information later.

T, N46

Why Keep On Telling the Story?
Musings on Life, Identity, Society, Mortality, and how it all ties to this form of storytelling.


Part 1: Life
Part 2: Identity



Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, CANADA

Composition: Sugar rush from Mom's baked Banana cake. I like saying that, "Baked Banana Cake, Baked Banana Cake, Bakedbananacake, bakedbananacakebakedbananacakebakedbananacake..."





The date was the 21st of May, 2007; just about a month after I got back from the Philippines.

The location was right in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, west of the Great Divide.

I was sitting in the passenger side of my brother's Subaru Impreza 2.5RS. We were heading eastbound very early in the morning, going back to Calgary after having spent the weekend in Kelowna for the Knox Mountain Hillclimb.

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As I squinted through the windshield, I saw the sun just barely peeking over one of the numerous sharp and jagged snow capped peaks that characterize the Rocky Mountains. I grabbed both my brother's SLR and my beater Canon Powershot A40, 5 years vintage, and snapped some shots of this special and rare experience.



How rare? Sunrise over any mountain (single or range) in Canada is something I've yet to experience too much of, seeing that here I am living east of the Rockies in Calgary. The closest mountain east of this city is thousands of kilometres away.

This suddenly triggered a few images from my Philippine trip. Having just come back a month prior, those memories were still very fresh in my mind. I thought of all the mountains I had seen whilst there. Whether I saw a sunrise or a sunset over them.
I then also thought of all the sunrises and sunsets I got to see.
What other land features did I see the sun emerge or disappear from? I asked myself. What about bodies of water?
Urban city scapes?
Who did I see and experience them with?
Then I thought of all the people who touched me during that trip...

One after the other memories came rushing forth. I may have been looking and admiring a Rocky Mountain Sunrise, but I was at the same time experiencing a recall cascade. It was like a word association game - just substitute words for experiences - that was unfolding inside my head.




This is the magic of memories.

We don't just store them inside our heads only to be recalled or relived later on. No. Memories are so much more than that. They become a part of us. With every new update to our archive of experiences and sensations; with every new addition to our scope of views; with every new image imbued in our mind's eye, we are irrevocably, irretrievably, and irreversibly changed.


For better or for worse.

And I am a changed person due to my Philippine experiences whether I like it or not. It is to that which I owe many a great changed viewpoints, realigned opinions, and reassessed priorities. It is to that which I blame for as to why there are things which I will never see, think of, or value the same way ever again.

But it doesn't have to be that I now 'see' everything from a whole new perspective. It could just very well be that I now see some things and get a certain feeling of...




Poetry.


Sunrise over a mountain isn't just another sunrise anymore.

T

Calls to home.

Composition: Tipsy from Ruffino Chianti 2005, and full from Pizza 73's dry, tasteless, two for one, pizza.
Edited some words the day after for more clarity.

Location: My Own Desktop, Calgary, Alberta, Canada


I just called the Philippines today. I talked to my Cousin Jojo Dimapilis. I told him to give my regards to everyone. I wanted to talk to Cousin Marco Gulinao as well, but there was no answer form his personal mobile phone. I think he's in campus- studying for his BAR exams. He'll be taking it this coming September, so I wanted to wish him good luck.

Last week, I called Ate Mireille as well.


I've never been one to call long distance too much. I absolutely terribly suck at talking over the phone. But the desire to speak to someone from the Philippines was just too much that I just had to ring. We talked about stuff about my trip to the Philippines. It's so unfortunate that I really only actually spent about 24 hours with the Gose family (at least those still based in Manila).

Anywho, Ate Mireille is going to get Married the 16th of December. In Boracay.

And here I am planning a way to get there. I told her, half jokingly, to invite me just so I have an excuse to visit the Philippines and flee the Canadian winter.


I hate winter.

A week ago a co worker asked, after I ranted how in some ways Calgary sucks, why is it that people wanted to leave 'this' city (meaning Calgary). He mentioned that if every other place is the same in that it has its share of intellectuals and morons, fashionistas and beatniks, professionals and blue collar joes, elitists and socialists, dumbasses and keeners... if every place is the same in these respects, why prefer one place over the other?


The next day I then replied:
"Saying that every place is the same due to having an equal representation of most socioeconomic groups, is just about the same as saying that we, as individual persons, are all the same because we have eyes, ears, a nose, and a mouth."

I then continued on by philosophizing how, in order to spend the rest of our lives exclusively with a special someone, we usually cite the one criteria that we HAVE to be in love.

Why can't we be then in love with a place? I mean, when we pick a place to settle, we're pretty much saying that we're going to spend the rest of our lives there.


So what if the place I do, do love has a lot of flaws? What if I'm in love warts and all?




Sorry if it's a little disjointed. Blame Ruffino.

T

The Short Cryptic Entry
The one foreshadowed by the previous post.
Since this is short, I gotta make up for it with tons of subtitles, right?


Location: Right here

Composition: same as the previous entry.



A vast number of strange and powerful 'coincidences' have been happening ever since I started planning my 2006-2007 Philippine trip. Even now, after all that's over, more and more keep happening.

And they're so hard to ignore.

Not the so called logic I claim to possess and adhere to, nor my pessimistic realist attitude are enough to make me dismiss all of it as merely incidental. The foundation of how I believe the realities of the Universe is structured and how it works is being shaken. Where before I would only have seen it all as coincidence - a subconscious drive to pick out patterns from randomness - I now think providence and purpose.

More and more, as each day goes, I feel that higher forces are pointing me towards a path seldom taken. A path that I've flirted with in the past, yet have gone no further for my own reasoning labels it as foolish. But everytime I thought I was ready to 'surrender' to the easy and convenient choices made obvious by my present circumstance, something happens that tells me to...




"Defy. Your path lies elsewhere. Find it."




"A person is as free as they believe themselves to be."

-A message I got from a Fortune Cookie that came with take out Chinese Food. 25 Aug. 2007 The cookie was extra delicious, so it has got to be a sign, right?


Ok, so that's kinda lame. Here's are excerpts from a less lame source... my most favourite song of all time... probably the greatest song ever written... with perhaps the best chord progression and musical elements... with the best guitar solo ever... and the best coda ending of all time!



"...Yes there are two paths you can go by but in the long run There's still time to change the road you're on Your head is humming and it won't go in case you don't know The piper's calling you to join him Dear lady can't you hear the wind blow and did you know Your stairway lies on the whispering wind And as we wind on down the road Our shadows taller than our soul There walks a lady we all know Who shines white light and wants to show How everything still turns to gold And if you listen very hard The tune will come to you at last When all are one and one is all..."


-Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin