Friday, October 31, 2008
Halo Halo Ween
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
David Sedaris and the Undecideds
Kurt Cobain and the Ungrateful Deads
Undying Admiration for Zombies
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Periodic Elements of Artists
Hey, this is cool. If only there is something like this when I was memorizing all these stuff. This is ununhexium, one of my favorite elements. No. 116. Exists only in theory
Blog Updates: Delfin Montano and Mandaya Moore-Orlis without the Hyphen
When the blog first started, I was a much different person indeed.
Just a very easy going, normal, regular guy really.
I was a Boracay party boy (no other option, hahaha).
I was also a property owner with a huge life in Australia.
Before 'it' all happened.
The Philippines has changed me though, NOT the other way around.
I've had to learn to fight dirty, almost against my will.
Because the system and people I'm dealing with are very dirty themselves.
In some cases, FILTHY dirty!
The Philippines will change anyone who gets emotionally involved with it. If you go into battle with any nations shortcomings, prepare for the worst. Because those in denial can be quite brutish.
It's incredible how much has happened to me since March 4th 2008.
Having said that, I'm on top of the world today!
I feel quite blessed for a Gabillion and one reasons.
But back then, I never thought it would be possible.
To be this fulfilled was something I thought would take years to get back.
It was that bad.
I have no savings, but I have happiness deep within me.
The fiance is a superstar!
My golden shimmering Pinoy.
True. Another blog I did not open for a month was that of Mandaya Moore - Orlis. Jawo had to tell me the news. The hyphen might disappear. Grabe. Look at the link below and read the sad dizzying event.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Auden's Physics Poem
If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so's,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.
Marriage is rarely bliss
But, surely it would be worse
As particles to pelt
At thousands of miles per sec
About a universe
Wherein a lover's kiss
Would either not be felt
Or break the loved one's neck.
Though the face at which I stare
While shaving it be cruel
For, year after year, it repels
An ageing suitor, it has,
Thank God, sufficient mass
To be altogether there,
Not an indeterminate gruel
Which is partly somewhere else.
Our eyes prefer to suppose
That a habitable place
Has a geocentric view,
That architects enclose
A quiet Euclidian space:
Exploded myths - but who
Could feel at home astraddle
An ever expanding saddle?
This passion of our kind
For the process of finding out
Is a fact one can hardly doubt,
But I would rejoice in it more
If I knew more clearly what
We wanted the knowledge for,
Felt certain still that the mind
Is free to know or not.
It has chosen once, it seems,
And whether our concern
For magnitude's extremes
Really become a creature
Who comes in a median size,
Or politicizing Nature
Be altogether wise,
Is something we shall learn.
Finally!! Our Soundtrack
5 Million Ways to Kill a C.E.O.Artist: The Coup
The next time a politician accuses another politician of "class warfare" because of some tax policy or other, listen to The Coup's "5 Million Ways to Kill a CEO" and remember what class warfare is really about: the systematic and literal annihilation of those above or below you on the social ladder. With that in mind, does asking for an extra 40 cents an hour seem that out of line? Do it! March right up to the manager and say, "I've been working at this Arby's for four years, and it's time my hourly wage reflected that!"
There Is Power in a UnionArtist: Billy Bragg
Lots of singers address the struggles of everyday people, but Billy Bragg is one of the few to move beyond empathy and map out policy solutions. There's nothing abstract or metaphorical about "There Is Power in a Union," a rabble-rousing reminder that you wouldn't be begging and scraping for a raise if a union were bargaining on your behalf. But if you're stuck going it alone, Bragg's performance is stirring and committed enough to render you a union of one.
Gimme Some MoneyArtist: Spinal Tap
After fantasizing about revenge on greedy CEOs and engaging in grandiose talk of workers' rights, it never hurts to take a step back and ponder what you're really after: some more damn money for yourself. As always, Spinal Tap blurs the oft-discussed line between stupid and clever while coming down squarely on the side of the latter, celebrating money-lust in the most bluntly straightforward way possible.
Give, Give, Give Me More, More, MoreArtist: The Wonder Stuff
It takes about half a second for The Wonder Stuff to get to the heart of its intentions in "Give, Give, Give Me More, More, More" -- or about the amount of time it takes for that cash register to chime. On its surface, the track is a paean to greed circa 1988 (not to mention a nice companion piece to "It's Yer Money I'm After, Baby" from the same album), but Miles Hunt's celebration of wealth is about wanting and hoping, not having: "I hope I make more money than this in the next world," he sings, adding, "I hope there's a lot more in it there for me."
The Smiths are Reuniting!!!!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Story of my life?
Sally: Story of my life?
Harry: We've got eighteen hours to kill before we hit New York.
Sally: The story of my life isn't even going to get us out of Chicago I mean nothing's happened to me yet. That's why I'm going to New York.
Harry: So something can happen to you?
Harry: Like what?
Sally: I can go into journalism school to become a reporter.
Harry: So you can write about things that happen to other people.
Sally: That's one way to look at it.
Harry: Suppose nothing happens to you. Suppose you lived out your whole life and nothing happens you never meet anybody you never become anything and finally you die in one of those New York deaths which nobody notices for two weeks until the smell drifts into the hallway.
This was included in Nora Ephron (who wrote this for "When Harry Met Sally" in her latest book
To Barrack Barrack is to Obambulate McCain
Illustrator and humorist Gelett Burgess (1866-1951) once wrote a poem called The Purple Cow:
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.
The poem became so popular and he became so closely linked with this single quatrain that he later wrote a palinode:
Upon a Background that I Rue!
Oh, yes, I wrote 'The Purple Cow,'
I'm sorry now I wrote it!
But I can tell you anyhow,
I'll kill you if you quote it."
McCain needs to write a palinode about Palin, if they lose.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Two Pinoys in Man Asia Literary Prize
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Feminism in Decline
To Make a Long Impeacment Short
Monday, October 20, 2008
Bad News for Postmodernism
Someone graphed the use of postmodernism, postcolonialism, marxism and others in the JSTOR (the google for literary theorists and others) and this is what he got. All our keywords except for Said's orientalism are following the Dow Jones ride to WTF
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Classic New Wave Videos Literally Done
See more funny videos at Funny or Die
For this generation which wanted everything served instantly and simply, without irony
Friday, October 17, 2008
US Teaches the World How to Torture
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Man Booker Prize and the Pinoy Contenders
a) an Indian sweep would not bode well for British, American and Canadian literatures
b) India and Philippines fared terribly in the last Olympics. This is their consolation.
c) Filipinos don't read books. They winning in this prestigious thing could shake things up. (Asa ka pa, si Bob Ong nga hirap na hirap na silang intindihin)
d) Arivand Atiga is only 33 years old. Three of the Pinoy longlist shortlisters are as young. Sorry, Krip
e) selection is made through texting
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
A Poor People’s Poem
a bad attitude
un genio from hell
of my poem
afraid of this
deep dark red poem
cuz even though
it isn’t about
or dying forests
this is a poor woman’s poem
Este de Los Angeles
got roaches crawling
all over it
and tiny pink mice
nibbling at the edges
and corners of
Listen this poem rides the bus
works 12 hours a day
7 days a week
with no medical benefits
and no paid vacations
has crossed rivers
and crawled under
in hot-sun pesticide fields
that make your meals
nice and balanced
And this poem
has worked all kinds of shifts
in inner-city factories
the clothes you wear
that keep you
this is a poor woman’s poem
a brown people’s poem
so you see
we don’t want to talk about
the ozone layer
the people in this poem
we wanna talk about where we live
about affordable housing
about how the hot water doesn’t work
and the windows don’t close
about the Never-no-heat-in-the-winter
we wanna talk about drugs
about the alcohol cocaine crack heroin
impregnating our communities
making modern colonized brown black slaves of us
we wanna talk about food stamps
about jobs and fair wages
about 12 hour shifts
and working conditions
we wanna talk about the police
and billy clubs
about busted heads
and handcuffed minds
about sharp-teeth dogs
and shackled freedom
about racist cops
we wanna talk about dying
about the river of blood
flowing where we live
about the heads of 2 year old babies
scattered on concrete floors
about the mountain of bodies here
outlined in white chalk
So you see
we don’t wanna hear you preach
cuz poor people like us
we’ve always recycled
we invented the damn word
and out of necessity
recycled our papers, cans, bottles
recycled our socially constructed poverty
recycled even our dreams
So you see
we do wanna talk
but talk about lies
about Am er i KKK a
about treaties broken
and lands and people stolen
we wanna talk about
S L A V E R Y
Third World penetration
of my poem
afraid of the East side poem
with El Salvador
South Central L.A.
poor people’s poem
pregnant with power
waiting to be born
In the sizzling heat of the afternoon
Clothes drenched and shoes filled with sweat
Last nights long shift makes the body ache
In growing age when the muscle is the only strength
The will like faith growing stronger with each passing day
A disease knocking at the visceral parts of the body
Joints now like the hinges in the machine need oil
Moved in hundreds and like all others
Away from the family and the little ones memory
A letter from the home in need of money
For the doctor’s fee as education is forlorn desire
Minimum wage half robbed by the supervisor
And like a true competition in economics
Out on the metal gates a replacement is waiting
Alienated from the production of the product
Creating surplus for the consumption of the rich
His toils are in the shine of the markets in goods glittering
Unaware of the political upheaval
No care for his welfare
He has no future; his children will also work like him
The power of the muscle, will and faith
He is a laborer who if not given the job
Will go for a daily wage and sleep on the road side
Poverty is his bread, poverty his butter
Poverty that alienates
Poverty the missing link
Poverty the slogan
Poverty it said is loved by the prophets
Poverty it said is gods chosen creed
Poverty the banner
Poverty the tears
Poverty the helplessness
Poverty the consciousness
Break it free
The ordained writing on the book of fate
To bring it down
Open its pages
Remove the names
Of all the people poor
Break it free
The pages they call divine
For divinity is me
Divinity is you
For I shall write
My own destiny
On the book of fate
Up from the skies
Down to the earth
In poverty I will live
But on my own choosing
Break the bond
Of eternal slavery
Thou art the bitterest vice
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
"That's why a character such as our Darna, who has been around since the 1950s, is basically Wonder Woman but with local characteristics. Like Philippine society itself, her stories are a mix of Catholic guilt with Hollywood glamour."
Monday, October 13, 2008
They are Also Laughing at This
They are laughing at this
Sunday, October 12, 2008
even when god’s throne is empty even when I have no
work no home no days off or public holidays
ethics is when a lion attacks a lamb and some infant animal’s mother
tries to save its life against overwhelming odds
rather ethics is a teaching in
where we should draw borders and lines
sometimes doing nothing
not interfering, indifference saving one’s own skin staying silent
may be horribly unethical
from Metrics and Ethics