There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you are meant to be. [entries|friends|calendar] Glenn ♥ F R I E N D S ♥ I N F O ♥ ♥ U P D A T E ♥ J O U R N A L ♥ [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

Ondoy and the violent diaclectic of heroism [Saturday October 3rd, 2009 at 2:03pm] Ondoy and the violent dialectic of heroism Three days ago, I received an e-mail from one fellow law student, bemoaning the continuation of classes notwithstanding the torrential floods that hit Manila a few days before.  In his words, he branded those who sought to push through with classes as having 1cexceptionally screwed up priorities. 1d  The day after, another law student sent an e-mail, declaring that it is better to carry relief goods than read books, because we are 1cmen for others 1d and not 1cmen for books. 1d No question, I admire the valor of these two individuals.  They also walk the talk, having volunteered with relief operations for the entire week.  Yet, their statements have also exposed the violent discourses attending the greater historical narrative of heroism pervading the Philippines. First, there is something inherently violent with the dialectic brought about by the heroism narrative.  This is exposed by juxtaposing  the hero-as-self and  the hero-with-regard-to.  The former, hero-as-self, is the classical ascription of heroic status post-mortem, where the entire aura of the person is colored with heroic status.  While this is also undoubtedly problematic, mostly because this branding silences divergent emanations of the self and simply focuses only on the 1cheroic, 1d the prevailing 1chero-with-regard-to 1d notion of heroism is even more violent. The present heroism narrative ( 1chero-with-regard-to 1d) places the hero relationally: we are heroes to the needy, heroes to the helpless, heroes to the downtrodden.  Specifically, heroism is manifested in the specific act of going out of one 19s way to assist with relief operations.  Now, the act in itself is unproblematic 13 when done with full volition.  But in the end, this concept of heroism creates an artificial moral compulsion because it is inherently an exclusionary discourse.  Since the hero is the student who decides to help with relief operations, it carves a 1cheroic space 1d that excludes the non-hero: the one who decides to do anything else.  And in fact, this is where heroism is seemingly quantified: the one who did relief operations for five days stayed in this temporally fleeting heroic space longer, and therefore is 1cmore of a hero. 1d The fault of this brand of heroism is that it silences alternatives, and carves out one heroic path to be followed, lest one become unheroic.  There is a violent binary created: heroes on the one side, everyone else on the other.  Shades of gray are silenced, as people are placed on one side or the other.  In the extreme, those who celebrate lavishly or exploit the situation by placing their faces on relief goods are located on one side of the binary (possibly, rightfully so), but they are also lumped together with those who stay at home and read a book, watch television, or eat a hearty meal 13 all these, 1cunheroic. 1d This is even exacerbated when the socially-tagged heroes ascribe concepts of heroism upon themselves.  In response to the second e-mail I received, that person sent me the parable of the Good Samaritan from the Bible.  By sending this, further analogous binaries are created: the Good Samaritan on the one hand, and the Pharisees and Sadducees on the other.  This blindly reinforces the 1chero-with-regard-to 1d narrative by artificially flattening out historical space, and feigning continuity of this discourse.  When in fact, the Good Samaritan narrative was a parable told more in reaction to xenophobia against Samaritans in that day and age, it is historically transported to reinforce Ondoy heroism: relief volunteers are Good Samaritans, those who desire to study are Pharisees. Second, the narrative of heroism is further colored by nationally-assumed notions of the heroic simpleton.  This is exhibited in another e-mail I received after I questioned the first two e-mails in a public group.  The e-mail sender said that now is not the time to argue about 1cwhat is good, 1d now is the time to volunteer in relief operations because a lot of people are still dying.  Two things jump out from this e-mail: one, she subscribes to the exclusionary discourse of the heroic narrative 13 time spent e-mailing could have been used to carry sacks of rice.  Second, she creates a false presumption that to sit back and think is unheroic; that to discuss the good when one could physically be there is unheroic; and that one should suspend cognitive faculties and rational debate in a 1ctime for heroes. 1d  Clearly, this thinking is historically rooted 13 and precisely, one needs to expose historical rootedness, positionalities, and socially-buried assumptions that color discourses.  This stems from the aversion to the Filipino intelligentsia in the Spanish era: where the passionate simpleton of Andres Bonifacio (although historically inaccurate) is preferred to a propagandist like Graciano Lopez-Jaena.  In fact, even Jose Rizal only completed his heroic act by being physically purged, as society does not ascribe the mere writing of a book with heroism.  In the same way, the current mentality is that every moment not spent hauling rice sacks or delivering relief goods is time spent being unheroic, and that to achieve heroism, faculties of intelligence must be suppressed because theoretical discourse pales in front of physical labor. To conclude, there is nothing wrong with helping out with relief operations 13 in fact, it is admirable.  What is disturbing is the pervading dialectic that goes with it, and the historically unrooted discourse that follows.  To solve this, one need not stop doing charity work.  That is unreasonable.  Instead, one must examine positionalities, assumptions, and historicities behind the 1chero talk 1d and expose what it is, and what it is not.  As a suggestion, a friend of mine sent a similar e-mail, where she shared stories of relief work in Muntinlupa.  The sharing of the narrative was without binaries or comparisons of 1cthe heroic 1d and the 1cunheroic 1d 13 instead, what followed was an invitation to help, not out of castigation or compulsion, but out of awe. are you ready? ♥

Glenn's Top 20 Favorite Eraserheads Songs [Monday March 23rd, 2009 at 11:14pm] I was originally supposed to post this two weeks ago, after the Eraserheads concert. First...  the runners-up: From Ultraelectromagneticpop!, there's Easy Ka Lang, the jangly predecessor of "Cool Ka Lang," and Ligaya, which has a special place for every college student who's done thesis work.  From Circus, Hey Jay does the conga, and bonus track Wating is campy in a good way (with movie dialogue interspersed in the verses).  Cutterpillow, often considered the band's best work, has Huwag Mo Nang Itanong, Walang Nagbago, and Poorman's Grave, all well-written pop-rock classics.  Sticker Happy's Kaliwete, Hard to Believe, and the underrated Futuristic, with its slowed-down outro, all barely missed the top 20.  Dahan Dahan, Peace it Together (a spliced-up frankensong 7-minutes song), and Maselang Bahaghari both represent Natin99 well.  Finally, from the largely-ignored Carbonsteroxide, Marcus Adoro's Hula is a fun slow-burning rock song. 20. Hula (Carbonstereoxide) - The band does its best Built To Spill impression: sublime bass-playing, soft-loud dynamics, and a sped-up bridge. 19. Fill Her (Cutterpillow) - The title's actually wordplay on "filler" -- which this song was supposed to be.  It turned out to be one of the most beautiful quiet Eraserheads ballads. 18. Ang Huling El Bimbo (Cutterpillow) - The Eraserheads' magnum opus, and their most well-known song.  I'm guessing over-familiarity can lead to a slightly lower rank?  Not my fault. 17. Julie Tearjerky (Aloha Milkyway) - A top notch lo-fi sounding pop-rock song which got massive airplay in an L.A. indie rock station. 16. Tamagotchi Baby (Aloha Milkyway) - ...and a made-for-Asia single that got tons of MTV airplay. (With good cause.  "Tamagotchi Baby" is one of their catchiest later songs.) 15. Para sa Masa (Sticker Happy) - This tender piano ode to the masses is actually a bitingly sarcastic lunge at the music-listening public that abandoned them during Fruitcake. 14. Waiting for the Bus (Cutterpillow) - Good old rock-and-roll, replete with nonsensical lyrics that heighten the song's already-brimming charm. 13. Ha Ha Ha (Sticker Happy) - Every line of every verse begins with the syllable "Ha."  A well-written back-to-basics song in their "experimental" album. 12. Shirley (Ultraelectromagneticpop!) - This was never released as a single, but it was one of the tracks from the first album that captured the fans' hearts.  The song name-drops chronicles a mundane college love story gone sour, then sweet again. 11. Minsan (Circus) - The perfect acoustic goodbye-to-you-but-memories-will-stay song, up there with "Paglisan."  The last line's a heartbreaker. 10. Spoliarium (Sticker Happy) - A song about about feeling, and being lost in the world, which just begs for lighters to be raised in the air. 09. Alapaap (Circus) - In many ways, the first sophisticated Eraserheads pop-rock single. All the elements are here: the slow, brooding intro, the breakneck finish, the substance abuse double-entendres. 08. Tama Ka (Natin99) - With a kundiman-type opening and doo-doo-doos, this song proved that the 'heads can still write crowd-pleasers at the tailend of their band-life. 07. Pop Machine (Natin99) - Where all the band's electronic experimentation hit its creative peak.  "Pop Machine" hits a nice groove, and accents it with well-sung falsettos from Ely Buendia.  Pretty damn danceable too. 06. Shake Yer Head (Ultraelectromagneticpop!) - Best summed-up the Eraserheads' carefree disposition and everyman image early on in their career.  A folky sing-along that ups the mood in any gloomy gathering. 05. Sembreak (Circus) - The evolution of "Ligaya" -- a love song written for the most mundane moments, and a reminder that bathroom basketball and being carless are both A-OK. 04. Torpedo (Cutterpillow) - Soft-loud, slow-fast dynamics, about a situation everyone has found him or herself in -- the "torpe" moment.  I love how the doot-doot-doot outro just shrugs off any care for the world. 03. Kailan (Circus) - A love song whose persona is languishing in jail.  I guess all that free time has led him to perfecting transplanting feelings into imagery.  The best 'heads ballad. 02. Trip to Jerusalem (Fruitcake) - FINALLY!  A song from the much-derided Christmas album.  This one just rocks your socks off, and it also contains the moment that I remember best when I think of any E-heads song: that last chorus where the rhythm guitars and bass just drop out and all that remain are Raimund's drums, some guitar-noodling care of Marcus, and Ely's voice. 01. Lightyears (Fruitcake) - I've always heralded this song's merits, and for good reason.  This is the Eraserheads at the creative peak -- writing this gorgeous song about yearning and distance, replete with orchestraic flourishes and celestial imagery.  And yes, because my top two songs are both from "Fruitcake," I also readily claim and defend the Fruitcake album.  I'd even say it's the band's best album, with Natin99 closely behind. are you ready? ♥

Top 20 favorite songs of the 80's [Friday March 13th, 2009 at 3:57pm] Yet another list for those who want to compare notes or get ideas for songs to download. 1. China Crisis - "Black Man Ray" (1985) : I first heard this song inside my school service back when I was 14 years old, and it immediately became one of my favorite songs.  This songs just screams EIGHTIES, with its twinkling piano, plucked guitars, and tender ode to Ray Charles.  Yes, it's cheesy, but its utter sincerity keeps it from devolving into camp. 2. The Chameleons - "Swamp Thing" (1986) : The song begins with a minute-long build-up towards an explosive chorus.  Throughout, it feels claustrophobic, haunting, and sinister, especially with the mysterious "the storm comes, or is it just another shower?" line.  Oh the things bands get away with in the eighties. 3. The Cure - "Pictures of You" (1989) : A seven-and-a-half minute trudge through the pains of love gone by.  The driving beat placed side-by-side with constant imagery of snow, the wind, and angels evokes the evanescence of fading memories and grayed pictures. 4. New Order - "Bizarre Love Triangle" (1986) : Not the truncated single version, but the dance-floor-ready seven minute album track that matches synths and vocoders to perfection. 5. Ultravox - "Vienna" (1980) : Released in 1980, "Vienna" predates many of its New Romantic contemporaries.  Yet, none of them managed to top the anthemic "this means nothing to me! / Oh, Vienna!" 6. The Stone Roses - "I Wanna Be Adored" (1989) : The benchmark of the late-80's Manchester movement, and a memory that once upon a time, The Stone Roses were the biggest band in the world.  After a slow build-up, Ian Brown exclaims the title line like he means and deserves it. 7. Sonic Youth - "Teenage Riot" (1988) : The best song from the consensus best album of the 1980's, Daydream Nation, "Teenage Riot" is actually two songs rolled into one epic track: the first part involves atmospheric guitar noodling, and the second part sports an explosion of indie punk. 8. Joy Division - "Atmosphere" (1980) : One of the last singles released before vocalist Ian Curtis hanged himself, this song is the perfect soundtrack to anything involving loss -- heartbreak, abandonment, death. 9. The Jesus and Mary Chain - "Just Like Honey" (1985) : The song begins with thundering drums, eases into feedback, and goes straight for the jugular.  Used to perfection in the last scene of Lost in Translation. 10. Dexy's Midnight Runners - "Come on Eileen" (1982) : Holy redneck!  This fiddles-and-banjos song is not a send-up at all.  It reaches perfection as it slows down to a crawl before reprising its love-struck chorus. 11. The Pixies - "Debaser" : The band that birthed Nirvana and the song that best defined their sound. 12. Prefab Sprout - "When Love Breaks Down" : This was screaming to be featured in a Molly Ringwald prom scene. 13. Guns N' Roses - "Patience" : Lighters in the air. 14. R.E.M. - "Radio Free Europe" :  Nobody understands what Michael Stripe is saying, and that makes this song all the more an indie cornerstone. 15. John Lennon - "(Just Like) Starting Over" : John emulated Elvis and Roy Orbison just a few months before he was shot to death. 16. Sugarcubes - "Birthday" : Bjork's best vocals and a wordless chrous designed to showcase her vocal chops. 17. 'Til Tuesday - "Voices Carry" : One of my favorite singer-songwriters (Aimee Mann) and one of my favorite music videos ever (emo girl from the audience sings in the middle of a theatre performance). 18. A-Ha - "Take On Me" : Another classic video and a staple of any new wave compilation. 19. U2 - "Bad" : Breaking away from U2's trademark anthemic sound, "Bad" is charming in its understatedness. 20. Violent Femmes - "Kiss Off" : I am still amazed how this band managed to do punk with acoustic guitars. This list could be longer, but let's stop at 20 for now. =) are you ready? ♥

Choosing Stars over a Hand of Bridge [Saturday January 31st, 2009 at 3:17am] No doubt, The Only Ones’ “Another Girl, Another Planet” is the best song ever written. To affirm that bold statement, I gave a curt, offhand nod for myself.  I was careful not to instill any suspicion in my opponents’ mind that I was sending signals to my partner. It was annual Bridge Fridays at Rissa’s, and we were up against the formidable Emma-Tricia partnership.  The bid was three Hearts; Tricia had won it.  Rissa and I were on defense, and our opponents had already taken two tricks, while we had none. Tricia played a Ten of Spades.  It was my turn. My mind drifted back to “Another Girl, Another Planet” – the best song ever written.  All Music Guide even agrees with me.   I soon wondered about society’s prevailing list culture.  How do people make grand, sweeping statements like this and still sleep well at night?  There are countless songs written, sung, and remembered – some unrecorded, and some kept secret.  How can I claim that I’ve heard the best the world has to offer? I’ve always wanted to stop time to listen to every song ever written.  Maybe some soulful paean penned by a troubadour three centuries ago would trump the brilliance of this power-pop gem I’ve so exalted. And until someone has actually listened to every song the world has to offer, then is no such thing as the best song in the world. But we can always have favorites. With that, I remembered Julienne and her favorite star. Julienne was strolling along the beach, toeing hard chunks of sand baked by the afternoon sun a few hours past.  With the day already giving way to dusk, the pallid moonlight cooled the shore.  The night sky yielded a blanket of stars. Julienne sat on a mossy rock, and gazed at the sky.  She pointed upwards, squinted, and mumbled softly. I had just finished with my late-night dip, and I was about to retire to my room.  As I passed the beach, I thought nothing of the silly girl on the rock, until I overhead her soft murmurs. “Io… Elara… Leda…,” she mumbled. I did a double take. “Are you counting stars?” I blurted out. Taken aback, she spent a speechless two seconds, before shaking her head. “No.  I’m identifying them,” she said.  She gazed upwards, once again. Thinking that she wanted no more of my conversation, I turned around and started walking back.  However, apparently, she was not yet done. “How did you know I was mumbling stars?” she said. “A Blur song,” I said.  “It’s called Far Out.  Damon Albarn names a shitload of stars in that song, and I guess I just recognized a few.” “Blur?  The Song 2 band?” she said. I nodded.  “Yes, but that song does not represent their catalogue.” She tilted her head to the side.   I was slightly embarrassed at my snobbery. “They’re my favorite band,” I said. “Oh.” I opened my mouth, and hesitated. “Julienne,” she said. Good, she can read minds, I thought, as I introduced myself as well. Pushed by an invisible urge to continue a dying conversation, I randomly asked her: “Julienne, what’s your favorite star?” “Betelgeuse, definitely,” she said, without hesitation. “Beetle Juice?”  I laughed.  “Tim Burton fan?” “No, no,” she shook her head – “the movie character’s name was influenced by…” I shook my finger. “Hush,” I said.  “I was cracking a joke.” “It’s not really that funny.” “I know.” Silence. And then, I wondered:  “How could you possibly have a favorite star?” “Why couldn’t I?” she said. “Because they all look the same from afar,” I said. “That’s the thing.  It’s all arbitrary, I guess,” she said.  “Just like anything else that attracts people like you and me.” “But you really can’t tell which one it is.” “Sure.  Sometimes, it doesn’t even appear,” she said.  “That’s why I relish my time here.  It’s not everyday I get to see Betelgeuse.” I nodded.  I found myself slowly warming up to this eccentric girl.  Under the moonlight, her short, dark hair glowed brilliantly. “So what’s your favorite star?” she asked. I stooped to the sand, and picked it up.  “This one,” I said.  “It’s not quite a sky star, but at least I can hold it.” Betelgeuse glowed in Julienne’s smiling eyes. “The Ten of Spades,” Rissa said.  “You don’t usually take this long to make a move.” I shook out of my five second day dream.  It’s funny how one can invoke an entire conversation in such a short span of time. I laid down a Two of Spades, Emma played a Nine of Spades, and Rissa took the trick with a Three of Hearts. I looked at the cards in my hand and waited for the next card fate would dare deal me. are you ready? ♥

Glenn's Top 13 songs of 2008 [Tuesday December 23rd, 2008 at 3:37am] Here's the ninth installment of my annual year-end list of favorite songs.  These are the songs I've listened to the most, or were simply those that floored me upon first listen. For those wondering where I get my music, it's a combination of word of mouth, Pitchfork, allmusic, Tiny Mix Tapes, last.fm, Fluxblog, Metacritic, YouTube, 105.9 FM, 88.3 FM, and just random discoveries. Glenn's Top 13 Favorite Songs of the Year 1. Death Cab For Cutie - "I Will Possess Your Heart" - The combination of a four-minute long intro, the wonderful music video sequel to A Movie Script Ending, the half-creepy/half-sincere proper song that follows, and the band's gall to release this 8-minute track as a single made it my favorite song of the year.  It's also the perfect opening or closing track to mix CDs I've made this year. 2. Duffy - "Mercy" - The new Dusty Springfield?  This song just exudes the fragrance of 60's style Phil Spector girl-group pop that it's impossible not sing along to the incessant yeah yeah yeahs. 3. Alphabeat - "What is Happening?" - I love it when bands, just like this one from Denmark decide, screw it, we'll write the catchiest tunes ever and we won't care if we don't have indie cred.  And ironically, just by doing that -- writing the catchiest song of the year -- they got cred. 4. Hot Chip - "Ready for the Floor" - One of my favorite indie-dance bands returns with a song that combines an instantly catchy beat with some (surprisingly) melodically-sung vocals.  The band allegedly was emulating Kylie Minogue's sound in penning this one. 5. M83 - "Kim & Jessie/Graveyard Girl" - These two songs are simply inseperable in my 2008 listening experience: tracks 2 and 4 of "Saturdays = Youth" are the perfect could-have-been soundtrack songs for that great lost 80's Molly Ringwald movie.  "Graveyard Girl" even has a wonderfully cheesy poem in the song's instrumental break. 6. Estelle - "American Boy" - Best pop song of the year, in my opinion.  It's the crazy pulsing electro-beat that carries this song -- Estelle's sugary vocals is the sprinkle on top. 7. Deerhunter - "Nothing Ever Happened" - Every year needs a song like this.  Last year, it was Of Montreal's "The Past is a Grotesque Animal" that took the best song to drive to award.  This year, Deerhunter's jangling guitars carry "Nothing Ever Happened" all the way to highway nirvana. 8. Portishead - "We Carry On" - Third is that type of album where everyone has a different favorite song in it.  Personally, "We Carry On" is the album's centerpiece -- where Portishead's dark sound and melancholic vocals perfectly exude both despair and hope at the same time. 9. Vampire Weekend - "The Kids Don't Stand a Chance" - Backlash or no backlash, the entire Vampire Weekend album was one of the best albums of the year.  This album closer sounded a little different from the rest of the songs: a little less playful, although still with an earnest keyboard line and pretty DIY-sounding production. 10. Leona Lewis - "Bleeding Love" - Top notch pop music.  Leona Lewis bleeds heartbreak through every sung line. 11. Fleet Foxes - "White Winter Hymnal" - One of Pitchfork's songs of the year, and with good reason -- WWH's Beach Boys-type harmonies and folk guitars perfectly lull oneself to bliss. 12. TV on the Radio - "The Golden Age" - Prince, meet funky guitars and drum machine. 13. Weezer - "The Greatest Man that Ever Lived" - At the end of the day, I'm still a big Weezer fan.  And hearing them try upwards-10 genres in a 6 minute song is not only entertaining, but also educational. At the end of next year, I'll come up with the mother of all lists: Glenn's top 100 songs from 2000-2009! :)  Watch out for that! are you ready? ♥ 4

The Little Boy that Santa Claus Forgot [Thursday December 18th, 2008 at 3:29pm] He wanted to stop believing in Santa Claus at seven years old.  Yet there was still a tinge of doubt in his unsullied mind. After all, the other little boys in Elm Street got their wishes.  Little Pedro got his remote-controlled McLaren Silver Arrow.  Little Johnny was already showing Little Matthew his new super soaker.  Little Ben finally got the Frisbee he had always wanted. It was only he who woke up at Christmas dawn with a wish ungranted. At eight in the morning, he opened the adjacent bedroom door to check if he was just mistaken.  He checked another time, at nine o’clock. Still nothing. He sullenly changed out of his pajamas and took out his broken toys.  Those would do for a while.   Santa Claus sank into his padded wooden chair, elbows resting on the armrests, exhausted from a whole day’s work.  The burning wood juggled sparks inside the fireplace. A stack of papers lay at the end table.  Santa Claus enjoyed reading these letters, written in red and green crayons, often crammed under platefuls of cookies.  The letters were all there – Little Johnny’s, Pedro’s, Matthew’s, and several other little boys who believed. Santa Claus thought about retiring to his room.  Yet, before he rose from his chair, he took out a letter written on torn notebook paper – the same letter he had opened and folded over and over. He read it again and shook his head one last time. Not even Santa Claus had the power to bring back the dead.   Back in that single bungalow on Elm Street, the little boy opened the door to his father’s bedroom once again. At one in the afternoon, he had completely stopped believing. *** This short story was inspired by the song of the same title.   are you ready? ♥

How to Disappear Completely (and never be found) [Sunday November 23rd, 2008 at 2:25am] I.   One day, all the lawyers in the world just disappeared.  There was no fanfare nor spectacle that sent all the lawyers to oblivion.  They just disappeared. I had read something like this before – Neil Gaiman’s Babycakes – where all the animals in the world suddenly vanished.  The people resorted to eating babies instead.  In a world without lawyers, there was bound to be a contingency plan.  The government knew that in just a matter of time, the people would notice that all the lawyers were gone. The very next day, then government came up with a stop-gap measure: all those who could walk, talk, and carry briefcases like lawyers could become lawyers, even without a degree.  George Granada, an esteemed adviser of Malacanang, came up with the brilliant idea – dress people up as lawyers, and nobody would notice that the real ones were gone. “Just be as flashy as you can,” said Granada, “and you’re bound to fool all of them.”  He emphasized the word them as if there were an invisible barrier separating government officials, the new faux-lawyers, and everyone else. I was lucky enough to be one of those in the second tier. II. As a child, I was fascinated by crayons and coloring books.  I always colored over and around the edges, though.  I didn’t bother following the lines, nor did I pick the correct crayon.  I just wanted to color, that’s all. My favorite coloring book had pictures of barn animals – pretty funny, since barns were as common in the Philippines as something implausible like lawyers disappearing. One particularly slow June afternoon, I chose to color a picture of a turkey.  I decided, spontaneously, that it would look better on fire.  So I got a red crayon and drew large, yawning flames that engulfed the cartoon fowl.  And then, on a whim, I got a blue crayon and decided to put out the fire.  Blue overcame red, and in no time, the turkey looked like it was drowning.  There was nary a trace of red crayon on the page.  I ran and showed the picture to my mom, who was watching a movie on Betamax. “Look mom!” I said, proudly exhibiting the drawing drenched in blue. She looked confused and gave a weak smile, trying to show appreciation for my indecipherable work of art. “I want to be a fireman,” I said. She laughed, and went back to watching her movie. III. I ended up becoming an accountant.  It’s practically the same thing anyway, I tried to rationalize.  I didn’t bother thinking of why it was so, because I was satisfied with my salary anyway. And then, that one fateful day, all the lawyers disappeared.  I found myself holding a lucrative government contract for faux-lawyering on one hand, and a blank ledger on the other.  Like a contrived movie scene where angels and devils sat on opposite shoulders of a morally confused adolescent, I had to somehow make a choice. I chose the dark side.  With a briefcase at hand, I stood in front of a full-length mirror and admired my new look, still reeling from the drastic career change I made. Fair enough, I thought.  I just have to look and sound credible.  I am a lawyer now. I won my first case easily.  I was lucky, because I was assigned a case that even a non-lawyer could win.  Someone was trying to claim a parcel of land in Guagua, Pampanga.  Good thing my client was responsible enough to keep an organized filing cabinet.  She found her Transfer Certificate of Title, we showed it in court, and we soon defeated the adverse claim. I was even luckier that out of all the faux-lawyers, I was the first one to win a case.  The government-owned television station, RBC-4, dedicated ten minutes of airtime to my won case on the ten o’clock news. The government looked pleased – it seemed like there was nothing awry.  Step one to silence the families of those who lost their juris doctors worked.  Step two to institute fake laywers worked, too.  Step three to pretend nothing was wrong seemed to have succeeded.  Step four was for me to become a hotshot lawyer.  Abogado de campanilla, as the old-timers say. I never lost a case in the next five years.  I had no one but fellow impostors to go up against, anyway. IV. Petite de Lara’s name fit her perfectly.  She was a sprightly young woman in her twenties, fresh out of college.  She obviously tried too hard to look the part of a field reporter, just as I did before with my briefcase and the full-length mirror.  She wore a beige cotton vest and a large identification card that said “PRESS” in bold red letters. “So how does it feel to be the most in-demand lawyer in Manila?” she asked. “It feels good,” I said. I paused to think for a bit.  I had exude gravitas for all my followers. “Whenever I stand up to face the bench, I transform,” I said.  “I feel like all the spirits of the great lawyers of the past embrace me and carry me to the pantheon of knowledge.” Okay, that was a bit overdone, I thought. Petite bit her lip.  “So what’s your proudest moment?” she asked. “After winning my first case,” I said,  “I got featured on the ten o’clock news.” I quickly added: “Here on RBC-4, of course.” Petite let out what seemed like a forced laugh. “What was that case about?” she said. I paused.  I honestly did not remember. “Something about cars,” I said. V. Yesterday my left index finger vanished, without any explanation.  Ten minutes ago, I lost my entire left hand.  I feel my torso slowly dissipating. No, I am not dying.  That’s too morbid to even think about.  I am simply vanishing, just like all my more genuine predecessors.  I’ve learned to accept my fate – it was just a matter of time. The English poet Charles Lamb once said, “Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.”  I don’t know if what he said is true. I just know that right before my eyes vanished, I was awash in a sea of red, then blue. *** I was supposed to submit this piece for a writing contest called "The Accidental Lawyer."  I decided to keep it for myself instead.  (RGT) are you ready? ♥ 1

The most depressing Christmas playlist ever [Tuesday November 11th, 2008 at 9:22am] Not everyone shall spend Christmas sipping Swiss Miss, opening a mountain of gifts, and singing carols. This playlist has been three years in the making.  I think I finally got it right this year. "Blue Christmas: a collection of depressing Christmas songs" 1. Simon and Garfunkel - "Silent Night/7 O'Clock News" - Paul and Art sing an extra-melancholy version of the Christmas classic over a single piano, as news reports of economic depression, rapes, and deaths play in the background. 2. Judy Garland - "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" - Sung with the original lyrics, where "hang a shining star upon the highest bough" used to be "until then we'll have to muddle through somehow." 3. Joni Mitchell - "River" - Still the most depressing Christmas song ever.  This is the perfect song for everyone who wishes they could just escape from the captivity of loneliness.  ("I wish I had a river I could skate away on.") 4. The O'jays - "Christmas Ain't Christmas, New Years Ain't New Years (Without the One You Love)" - Ignore the chipper Motown sound.  This song states plain and clearly how Christmas is a little bit lonelier for those missing their loved ones. 5. Charles Brown - "Please Come Home for Christmas" - The perfect slow dance Christmas song, ironically one that the song's persona has to dance alone. 6. John Lennon - "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" - Better known as the "so this is Christmas, what have you done?" song.  A children's choir tries its best, in vain, to convince the world that violence can end, even for just a night. 7. Dean Martin - "The Christmas Blues" - "Until it's January, I'll just go and disappear ... for Santa only brought me the blues." 8. Darlene Love - "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home" - Backed by Phil Spector's Wall of Sound, this yearning song is accompanied by a world of melancholia. 9. Loretta Lynn - "Christmas Without Daddy" - This one hits home the most. 10. Diana Krall - "Christmas Time is Here" - Straight of A Charlie Brown Christmas, Diana Krall suffuses this song with the feeling that, well, Christmas is here... so what? 11. Bing Crosby - "I'll Be Home For Christmas" - ...if only in my dreams.  Funny how many people think this is a happy, hopeful song. 12. Merle Haggard - "If We Make it Through December" - This one touches on economic realities;  financial problems, wanting to be elsewhere, getting laid off.  The fact that it is an upbeat country song adds to the irony. 13. Eraserheads - "Christmas Morning" - I had to put a local song.  "Pasko Na Sinta Ko" being sung in Filipino would spoil the playlist's continuity, so I opted for this somber, acoustic song about hoping how "next year, will be better than last year." 14. Nat King Cole - "The Little Boy that Santa Claus Forgot" - The little boy didn't get any toys because he didn't have a daddy.  So he resorted to last year's broken toys. 15. Newsong - "The Christmas Shoes" - This is about that last minute scramble to buy that one gift to make a dying mother happy. 16. The Moonglows - "Just a Lonely Christmas" - Also superbly remade by the Supremes.  Motown harmonies at its finest. 17. Sarah McLachlan - "Wintersong" - An original McLachlan tune from a few years back.  As one would expect from her, her Wintersong is laced by a cold, lonely piano and her unmistakeable voice. 18. The Pogues - "Fairytale of New York" - My personal favorite.  A Christmas song about two bums falling in love in a New York drunk tank, and singing about the emptiness of their lives as Christmas approaches.   If anyone wants a copy of this mix, I'll be happy to burn a CD for you.  Advanced happy Christmas to all. =P are you ready? ♥ 17

The day I randomly fell in line. [Saturday November 8th, 2008 at 9:50am] Bar “High Fidelity” and “The Velveteen Rabbit,” there is no book I adore more than Trina Paulus’s “Hope for the Flowers.”  It chronicles the story of a striped and a yellow caterpillar who met each other in a towering pile of their kin – brilliantly called a “caterpillar pillar.”  After struggling to get up the pillar – to cut a long story short – they decide to come down and turn into butterflies. If life were only that simple.  And still, stories like these inspire us to try, at least. One day, walking around Rockwell, I just decided to fall in line.  There was a long stretch of people that snaked around the curb and disappeared into a corner.  I didn’t know what the line was for.  I just decided I wanted to fall in line. After a minute, I felt the nothingness of my impulsive action.  Yet, I didn’t break off and go elsewhere.  There seemed to be an invisible force-field acting like a velvet rope that herded me in place. People started falling in line behind me, too.  They seemed to know the line’s purpose, and they were content to be there.  At peace, in line.  I soon blended into the crowd. I tapped my foot along to an invisible tune, beginning as scattered beats and fleshing out into song, just like the two-minute intro of an Ani DiFranco tune.  For some reason, I believed that everyone else would follow suit and tap their feet too.  That people would spontaneously burst into unified tapping, akin to a musical.  It didn’t happen. I desperately wanted to do something in line – count sheep, play Radiohead songs in the sky through astral projection, or something.  Anything. The line was moving at the pace of creaky millstone. And then I decided to talk to the person in front of me.  Funny how people, in certain settings, choose interpersonal communication as the last option to pass the time.  Maybe we’re all afraid to be branded as too fresh or as creepy. I tapped the shoulders of the girl standing in front of me. “So why exactly are we in line?” I asked. “Beats me,” she said. And then, silence.  She was going to face the head of the line again, but after a quarter-turn, she did a double-take. “Do you thumb wrestle?” she asked. I was too dumbfounded to answer immediately.  Everyone has thumb wrestled at least once.  So was she asking a trick question?  Do I have to classify I do it professionally or if I was just an amateur? Yet beyond that, I noticed how attractive the girl was.  She had chin-length hair that curled at the end, fair-skin, and eyes that disappeared whenever she asked a question. After what seemed like ten seconds, I answered yes. She grabbed my hand and started counting to three.  The game started, and in two seconds, my thumb pinned hers against her forefinger.  One, two, three – and the game was over. “Well that was fun,” she said.  “Better than doing nothing in line.” The line kept moving, and we were fast approaching the blind corner. Just as she did – and because I felt the need to reciprocate – I pitched an out-of-nowhere question.  “Caterpillars,” I said. “What about caterpillars?” she said. “How do they know when to get into their cocoons?”  I asked. She furrowed her brows.  I continued. “Do they feel an itch and then they automatically do it?” I asked.  “Or do they just suddenly decide one day that they’ve done enough crawling and they’re ready to fly?” “It’s all instinctive, I think.” “You mean they uncontrollably shoot out threads and they have no choice but to get in there and hibernate?” “Sure.  They’re animals.  That’s how they operate.” “Trina Paulus would beg to disagree,” I said.  “In her story, Yellow just decided to fall off the pillar and turn into a butterfly.  On her own volition.” She laughed.  “You’re what, twenty-something and you still haven’t learned to delineate fiction from reality?” It was true.  My life was the perfect example of meta-fiction. We were nearing the end of the line.  There were just three people in front of us – and all of them seemed to know what they were there for. “I’m not a caterpillar,” I said. I broke off the line and stood to the side.  There were two people left in front of her. As I started walking to the nearest diner to get a sandwich, I emulated her quarter-turn.  Half-shouting, I said:  “What?  You aren’t following me?” She smirked, placed her hands on her hips, and shook her head teasingly. I didn’t even ask her name.   Walking back, I looked to the ground and saw a red ribbon.  I picked it up and pinned it on my collar.  I read somewhere that this was supposed to bring love.  I don’t know if it’s true, but I decided to keep it anyway. are you ready? ♥ 1

Dying makes no sense if we aren't remembered. [Monday October 13th, 2008 at 11:05am] My friend Tantan drew himself lying in a pool of blood beside the Oblation Statue in U.P.  This was back in junior year in Ateneo High School, when our Filipino teacher asked us to draw on a piece of paper what we wanted to become in the future.  Shocked, our teacher asked him what the drawing meant.  "I'm going to enrol in U.P., be an activist, and get shot," he said.  "I want to be remembered." Since then, more jokingly than anything, I've appropriated his dream of dying young, becoming a legend in the process.  I know that joking about death is not the healthiest thing in the world, but it's a way of flipping the finger at the reaper and confronting all our lingering fears. After all, all our fears are rooted in death.  Every phobia in the world goes back to death.  Death is the only thing anybody truly fears. Here's an excerpt from a conversation I had with my friend Marta, on a lazy Sunday afternoon: *** marta: ur gonna die of fast food u know that glenn: i know. but you know what glenn: you eat, you die glenn: you dont eat, you die glenn: so might as well die happy marta: that's true marta: but a quick death is fine marta: a long and suffering one is miserable marta: i dont wanna live that long anyway marta: but i don't want to be an aching old person glenn: hahaha... that's right glenn: quick, painless death. glenn: i think i want to die young. get shot, something glenn: to be remembered marta: hahaha marta: oh my god glenn marta: that's terrible marta: u want naman people to be prepared for ur death noh glenn: but diba come to think about it, we'll all die anyway glenn: so why do we do what we do? glenn: because we want to be remembered! marta: yeah when the time is right marta: to make the time we have worthwhile marta: i think it's more to keep us entertained at the moment marta: like if we didn't work or go to school, we'd be bored to death glenn: it frustrates me, for instance, to think that my dad's a great guy but down the road, he wont be remembered. *** Is there a sadder thing in life than dying unremembered? I still have dreams about my dad.  Probably because I fear that if I don't keep him in my memories, he'll disappear down the road into the depths of my untapped gray matter.  Or in the pages of history books never to be written. But suddenly, I realized that life also has its own way of flipping the finger at my obtuseness. Because just then, serendipity came knocking. Marvin, who writes about fatherhood in his blog www.sidmacatol.com, wrote the following about my father: "I went to his wake, with my colleagues in the office. I expected to see weeping people. No, I didn’t see any. Yes, there was an air of sadness, but something else was there that took me some time to determine what. It was during my conversations with the family, including Glenn, when I realized what exactly was strange in the air. That strange “something” was similar to what audiences felt after their basketball team won in the finals. That was what was in the air. It was absolutely weird. Yes they missed their Dad. But they were very proud of their Daddy. It was as if his death was like watching their Dad cross the finish line, with everyone in the bleachers standing up in ovation." That, and more.  He quoted my eulogy in full. There were links to how the Christian Jiu-Jitsu Association remembered my father, and his consultancy group -- all highlighting different aspects of his person. Just a day after worrying about suddenly dying and struggling for significance, I realized my dad made his own mark in this world. And far as dying young is concerned, I've positively renegotiated my stance.  I want to live long enough, cherish memories, and learn from them. Not to be remembered, but to remember.  That's what life is all about. are you ready? ♥ 4

Last Night I Shopped for Love. [Monday October 6th, 2008 at 12:46am] [ music | "Smothered in Hugs" - Guided by Voices ] Last Night I Shopped for Love. The stores we come to love the most are the stores that we don't see at first sight.  Not a lot of people know about Cubao Ex, behind Gateway, and its slew of antique shops and graphic design shops.  Even fewer know about Som’s, the almost-authentic and cheaply-priced Thai restaurant behind Rockwell.  The best stores are the ones we stumble upon and cherish, and they become little secrets we keep from the rest of the world. It's a wonder I didn’t know about Awesome Pete’s Love Store, when I have been passing by Sapphire Avenue everyday.   It’s just right there, around the corner. Awesome Pete’s store sells love.  It says so right on the widow – “We sell love.  Prices negotiable.”  Curious, I stepped right in, not knowing what to expect. The store itself was dingy: the door creaked as I opened it;  dusty viridian drapes covered the walls.  A single skylight was obscured by a build up of dirt.  Nevertheless, I didn’t care.  I was too bewildered to notice the aesthetics.  Although, in hindsight, for a store that sold love, I would have expected something cheerier.  Something like a cross between the video for Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Mr. Magoo’s Wonder Emporium. Awesome Pete ran his own store, and I don’t blame him for not having any employees.  After all, how would he realistically entice people to work for his shop?  Place ads in the newspapers?  “Love Store looking for new employees”?  That would be one ticket to criminal indictment for public indecency. “So what’s the catch?” I said, doing away with the pleasantries. “Nothing,” he said.  “We sell love.”  Funny how he uses we, when he was the only other person there. “This isn’t, like… a brothel, isn’t it?” I said. He let out a chuckle, as if he’d heard that question several times already. “No, we don’t sell girls.” Awesome Pete – if that was his real name – certainly didn’t look like a girl-trader anyway.  He had a receding hairline, although his hair was still surprisingly thick and curly wherever he still had it.  He partially covered his balding forehead with a Flower-Power bandanna, with a prominent peace sign.  He sure acted the part of the owner of a love store. “So, what do you sell?  Mills and Boone novels?  Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks DVDs?  Post-Chicago Peter Cetera CDs?” I asked.  The question was obtuse though, as I saw no commodity of any sort on the bare, wooden counter. Pete shook his head.  “None of those, I’m afraid.  Although I happened to like Peter Cetera before he went solo,” he said.  I put brushed my fingers through my hair, pulling them ever so slightly.  That was my way of coping with stress in law school, and it came in handy for this frustrating situation. I repeated my initial query.  “What do you sell then?” He just smiled.  “Where’s Annie?” he said, as he changed the subject. My eyes involuntarily squinted and my body jerked back.  How does he know Annie?, I thought. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.  “No, I’m not a stalker.”  Again, he chuckled. He continued: “I used to see you with her everyday, as you pass by Sapphire.  You always rushed through the sidewalks without noticing my store.” I thought, guilty as charged.  I never noticed the store until now. “Running a love store is not easy,” Pete said.  “I spend most of my time watching people.  People like you and Annie.”  He paused.  I knew what was coming next.  “I haven’t seen you with her the past two, three months though.” “I know,” I said. I took a hundred peso bill out of the old leather wallet Annie gave me, which is now barely held together by three stitches.  I handed it to Pete. “I’d like to buy love,” I said.  Pete took the bill and pocketed it – he didn’t even have a cash register.  “Keep the change,” I said. I walked out of the store, without anything on hand.  But I knew I’d be back there someday. I knew that one day soon – or maybe a bit longer than that – I’d be clutching Mills and Boone pocketbooks again, or listening to sappy Peter Cetera songs. Or smiling-crying at the rooftop scene in Sleepless in Seattle, wishing I was Tom Hanks. That one day, I’ll go back to ignoring Pete’s little store. I knew, at that point, that I wasn't buying love. I was buying hope. are you ready? ♥ 6

Deleting Songs -- a short story [Sunday September 14th, 2008 at 7:58pm] [ music | "No Distance Left to Run" - Blur ] Deleting Songs Glenn Tuazon Joel and Clementine had it easy.  They met in Montauk, fell in love, then out of love, and then they completely forgot about each other.  His brain procedure had eradicated all memories of her, both good and bad. It’s not as bad as it sounds.  People invoke memories on their own volition.  With no memories, there’s no hurt.  The procedure only makes it easier to forget. Songs are different.  They’re everywhere.  At any given moment, iTunes on shuffle can decide, heartlessly, to play “Nothing Compares To You,” and then suddenly – despondency sets in.  Songs, unlike memories, have lives of their own. For this reason, Stu was blessed to find the gadget under his bed.  He had an issue with forgetting.  He was named after, arguably, the least popular and most forgotten Beatle, who somehow happened to be his mother’s favorite.  “He was an enigma,” she used to say.  And he died early too, he thought.  Somehow, someone also forgot this gem of an invention under his bed.  Under his bed!  It should be out in the world, servicing broken hearts. The gadget can delete songs – not just from computers or iPods, but from the world.  Forever.  All Stu had to do was hook it up to a computer, choose a song, and press the conspicuous yellow button in the middle.  Yellow for jealousy, he thought.  He searched for a metaphorical guinea pig.  He opened his Media Player.  Aha.  The Sign.  Ace of Base.  Nobody would miss that one.  He pressed the button and the song was gone forever.  He couldn’t even remember how the tune went. It works. Stu searched for Media Player’s most wanted: the ones that spring up like treacherous knives and gut his heart out with forcibly recounted memories. Summer Babe by Pavement.  This is a good one, he thought.  He first introduced this song to her on a hiking trip.  She immediately liked it.  “It sounds so… lazy.  And relaxing,” she said – immediately recanting “lazy,” fearing the stigma of reacting negatively to the indie band of the nineties.  Now, every time he hears Summer Babe, he can’t help but recall lazy days spent with her. He listened to the song one last time.  “Every time I sit around, I find I’m shot!”  sings Stephen Malkmus.  Goodbye, Summer Babe, he thought.  He pressed the yellow button and Summer Babe was no more. He searched for the next victim: Indestructible by Alisha’s Attic.  Even pop songs weren’t safe from his wrath.  He remembers singing this song to her over the phone – “I know that we forget what we need to say, too proud sometimes.”  He hums the tune in his head.  Unlike Summer Babe, Alisha’s Attic did not deserve one final send-off play.  He knew the tune by heart.  One press of the yellow button, and Indestructible was forgotten. And then it got more and more difficult.  Elliott Smith’s Say Yes.  Smokey Robinson and the Miracles’ Ooh Baby, Baby.  Jeff Buckley’s Lover, You Should’ve Come Over.  Those and a hundred other songs, all gone from everyone’s collective memories. Stu thought, nobody can inadvertently make me feel bad anymore.  He turned on the radio – 105.9 FM was playing Highway Star, a song he felt nothing for.  Not even the radio can break his heart. He searched for Damien Rice’s The Blower’s Daughter.  This was the final frontier of broken heartedness.  Annie loved Closer:  she had a crush on Jude Law; she thought the movie script was faithful to the play; and most especially, she loved the soundtrack.  Especially The Blower’s Daughter. He plays the song.  And so it is…, the song begins.  Just like you said it should be. Damien Rice gently strums along.  I can’t take my eyes off you – he sings – almost to a whisper. He placed his finger on the yellow button.  Just a little more, and The Blower’s Daughter will join its brethren in the depths of music hell. And then, nothing. He granted reprieve.  Damien lives;  everyone can take a little heartbreak, after all.  Until I find somebody new… The song finishes. He puts the gadget under his bed.  This shall stay here forever, he thought. He spends the next five days attempting to remember the tune of Say Yes, trying – and failing – to hum it over the phone to Annie, who doesn’t remember him at all. are you ready? ♥

Terror in the Peripheries: why "Cloverfield" is the best monster movie in recent memory. [Sunday February 3rd, 2008 at 1:05am] [ music | The Smiths - "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now" ] "Cloverfield" Rating:  8/10 stars. *WARNING, MINOR SPOILERS AHEAD* What's the quickest way to remove all terror from an otherwise scary movie? Centering. Horror movies tend to place its characters in the middle of everything. The monster chases after them, they see their friends die, they kill the monster, and they live happily ever after or get tormented for another day. In the midst of this "centering," the characters also get to know a lot -- this always includes the monster's origin and his motivations. For instance: Godzilla was the product of nuclear wastes, and Norman Bates had psychological problems from his domineering mother. This knowledge inevitably leads to methods by which the monster could be defeated. In "Signs," for instance, the crop circles hinted at the aliens' fear of water. Just as a good joke gets ruined when someone explains the punchline, horror movies inevitably lose their mystique when its monsters' origins and motivations are explained. The monsters are, ironically, humanized. "Cloverfield" does not explain anything. All its main characters stay in the periphery. The protagonist does not even seek to kill the monster -- that's the army's job, after all. His primary motivation is simply to find his girl, who was stuck inside her 37th-floor apartment, in the monster's path of destruction. Neither do the main characters find out anything -- they do not know where the monster came from and its motivation, if it has any. Neither does the camera provide succor. Usually, the camera is a neutral observer that jumps from scene to scene, impervious to the destruction film-monsters cause. The camera is an invincible and omniscient being in, yet also out of the scene. The viewer therefore associates with this point of view and watches the monster wreak havoc with no empathy. Yet, "Cloverfield" is entirely shot by a handheld camera. All of the shots have a natural motivation -- curiosity, terror, panic. The very presence of the camera is fortuitous. The main character, after all, was celebrating his going-away party before leaving for Japan the next day. The camera had some reason to be there. In the same way, the camera only catches passing glimpses of the monster. The monster is not even shown in its entirety, the way the camera usually showcases its monster from all angles. Here, the monster is shown in bits and pieces, according to the requisite courage it took for the camera-holder to point the device at the monster's wake of destruction. The film ends with the audience being just as confused as the characters are. And this, all in all, is the power of "Cloverfield." It understands that what is unknown is what scares us the most. are you ready? ♥ 2

A Kick-ass Music is My Girlfriend month =) [Monday January 7th, 2008 at 11:31pm] For music fans, listen to my show Music is My Girlfriend, 9 p.m. - 12 m.n. at 105.9 FM Underground Radio =) This January me and my co-host Rolly Stone will feature a killer line-up: January 14 - The Kids are Alright: The Best Music of 2007 Featuring year-defining singles like "All My Friends" (LCD Soundsystem), "1 2 3 4" (Feist), "D.A.N.C.E." (Justice) and samplings of albums like Strawberry Jams by Animal Collective, The Stage Names by Okkervil River, and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga by Spoon. Join us as we revisit some of the best music of the year gone by. January 21 - Radiohead: The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread Radiohead is, hands down, the greatest band of our generation. Listen as we traverse through their catalogue, album-by-album -- from "Creep" to the 1-2 punch of OK Computer and Kid A, to last year's knock-your-socks-off return to form in In Rainbows. January 28 - Trans-atlantic Punk Battle: UK Punk vs. US Punk! It's a battle-royale featuring The Clash, The Sex Pistols, The New York Dolls, Iggy and the Stooges, The Ramones, and all the punk bands that shaped music from the late 70's onwards! Join us for the brashest three hours of Music is my Girlfriend yet! February 4 - The Queen is Dead... From the Smiths to Morrissey. Kicking off our Heartbreak February are the geniuses behind some of the saddest (and wittiest) songs ever penned: "I Know It's Over", "How Soon is Now?", "There is a Light that Never Goes Out", "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get", and more. We will feature three hours of singles by the Smiths and Morrissey, with their respective albums The Queen is Dead and Suedehead played in their entirety! Music is my Girlfriend: Definitive, Seminal, Girlfriend Material music. =) are you ready? ♥ 9

Why 2007 is the best year of my life. =) [Sunday December 30th, 2007 at 11:18pm] Sorry, I've been neglecting this journal. This is my first update in 11 months -- forgive the lack of an LJ cut. Here are twenty reasons (and pictures!! High tech na ako eh) why 2007 is the best year of my life, in pseudo-chronological order. 1. THESIS: Yaan, Aaron, and I won Best AB Communication Research Thesis. Here's our picture with our adviser Ms. Borsoto and my two friends who won Best Project Thesis (Honey and Evi). Aaron's not in the picture. Haha. 2. HITACHI: I traveled to Vietnam for a week-long conference about South-East Asian issues, hosted by Hitachi. Made life-long friends who I hope to see next May in Singapore! That's me at the left. 3. JANUARY 30 -- THREE YEARS: Yaan and I celebrated our 3rd year anniversary. We're still going strong and pushing four years in a month from now! 4. BEST ORG: After a year of challenges, choices, and changes as Ateneo Debate Society president, the ADS won Best Organization in the Loyola Schools Awards. This is me with my beloved COA and Sanggu. 5. 4.0: Finally lived up to my "Cuatro Kid" nickname. I got that magic straight-A report card in my last sem of college. 6. MAGNA CUM LAUDE: Didn't get valedictorian (almost did!) but Ateneo chose my good friend Leloy anyway. Was happy enough to get my shiny medal and cry with my friends whom I would see less often after that fateful night. Here's me with Yaan, our good friend Junee (whom I really miss hanging out with!), and the AB Psychers. 7. T(WENTY) OUTSTANDING STUDENTS OF THE PHILIPPINES: Well, I didn't quite make it to the top ten, but it was worth a shot. :) Top twenty is good enough. No picture for this one, because I was abroad doing something else when we were awarded, which was... 8. ASIA TRIP! May was my favorite month of the year. My Travel Club (Luis, Gita, Raffy, CH, Yaan, Monch) and I went backpacking across Asia for almost a month. This was our carefree month, before we all got jobs or took further studies. 9. ASIAN CHAMPIONS: After an 8-year debate career, I retired on a high note, winning the Asian championship in ITB, Indonesia. This is me with Sharms and Leloy, my great teammates. 10. ...and BEST SPEAKER TOO! Here I am cherishing the "Best Speaker in Asia" title, which I will hold until the next AUDC in May. 11. BALIK-MAPORAK (May 2007): Yaan, Mico, Raffy, and I visited my Aeta community in Cabangan, Zambales, to commence on our ambitious documentary project. It was nice to see our foster families again. 12. LAW SCHOOL: Started with law school last June, and made new friends, gained new knowledge, and lost a lot of my free time. I love 1-A, though. =) (Four years of Section A in High School, Four years of Block A in College, and here I am in section A again.) 13. NEW APARTMENT: Finally, my commuting problems were solved thanks to that serendipitous moment when Pau Balite and James Gregorio (flaker!) asked me to be their roommate. Also met new roommate Rex Ang, who sleeps earliest out of all of us. Here's me with our bedroom door, which I unhinged during our post-midterms inuman in our place. 14. RADIO SHOW: Me (Mr. Kite) and my co-DJ Rolly Stone host Music is my Girlfriend every Monday night, 9 pm - 12 am on RJUR 105.9. We play two classic/seminal/definitive albums every week and wax poetic about the lost art of the album. 15. INTRODUCING THE BREAKFAST CLUB: I spend four hours every morning studying for law school with my favorite Breakfast club! In the picture in front of the Rockwell Christmas tree: Kla, Jaja, Miki, Kira, and me. Crissy's missing in action. =( 16. MOOT COURT: I've retired from debating and started doing moot court. My class has won twice in our moot court competitions, and I also did VERY well in this one other moot court competition whose implications are pretty large -- but I can't disclose what it is yet. Here's 1-A after winning the Persons moot court competition: 17. TO HELL AND BACK: Yes I know it's nerdy, but Marts, Pao, Monch, Tan, and I finished all three levels of Diablo II in one overnight session. DIABLOVERNIGHT! Haha. Ok, yun lang. No pictures for this one. 18. JAKARTA SEMINAR: Went to Jakarta to conduct a 5-day long seminar with Bina Nusantara University. I felt very welcomed and appreciated by the wonderful Indonesian debaters. 19. GOODBYES...: Yet, with every hello comes some goodbyes. Many of my good friends went abroad to pursue higher goals: Luis is in France, Pao is in NY/DC, Honey, Audrin, Ramon, and many other Ateneans are in Singapore, Mick is in China (?), Chris Ho is in HK... and there are too many other people who have left/are leaving. Here's a picture in Luis's despedida, when we were kicked out of the compound for being too noisy: 20. A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR: And here we are, embarking on a new year. After a string of christmas parties with my law school block, orgs, high school classmates, family, etc, I've nothing else to do but to be thankful for the awesome year that passed. Here's to an even better 2008! Here's me, my sister, and my mom in Tagaytay (my Dad took the picture): are you ready? ♥ 13

Weird segue into some Archie stuff [Tuesday January 2nd, 2007 at 3:10am] [ music | "St Patrick's Day" - John Mayer ] As Christmas vacation ends, us seniors are now embarking on our last two months of college. (Sniff) We're all getting older, and my -- how we all have changed. Look, even our beloved Archie comics are undergoing a major change! ...although nothing still beats this one panel from a 70's Archie strip: are you ready? ♥ 8

Postmodernism in Shopping Malls [Thursday December 28th, 2006 at 1:12am] [ mood | crazy ] [ music | "Fairytale of New York" - The Pogues ] I usually hate it when people deploy the term "postmodern" to suit just about any sort of absurdity, but I really can't think of any better term to describe the humor in this picture: I took this photo in Jollibee Katipunan; this is a picture of the annual Christmas donation box, where people can leave gifts for orphaned children. Apparently, one of the donors either had a weird sense of humor or was from the across the street, clad in red and yellow. are you ready? ♥ 9

Glenn's Top 15 songs of 2006! [Tuesday December 19th, 2006 at 3:26am] [ mood | chipper ] [ music | El Perro del Mar - "God Knows" ] Yep, I haven't totally abandoned my year-end list-making, in spite of my relative insulation from new music. All throughout the year, I've been pretty clueless as to who the "in" bands are -- and most of the time, I end up being massively disappointed. Case in point: since everyone's been name-dropping Panic! At the Disco, I decided to download the entire album. After smirking at the funny-sounding track names, I proceded to listen to one track. And then another. And one more. And then I decided to unceremoniously delete the entire album off my hard-drive. Ugh. Anyway, here goes nothing :P GLENN'S TOP 15 SONGS OF 2006 1. The Pipettes - "Pull Shapes" 2006 is definitely the year of the Pipettes. (At least, in my little music world...) Three girls + polka-dotted dresses + choreographed dancing + oohs and ahhs = a 3-minute trip back to the 1960's. This song's a perfect slice of indie pop. 2. Stars - "Your Ex Lover is Dead" Bad news: this song is in the new OC soundtrack CD. Good news: this effectively qualifies this 2005 song for my 2006 list. Yet another piece of bad news: Yaan will get pissed off at the idea of even more people liking this song and making it their own. "Ex Lover" is just that type of song that you want to keep a secret - a little personal love letter that one can listen to at whim. 3. Broken Social Scene - "Ibi Dreams of Pavement" Yep, I'm still going overboard with Canada-philia, this is the second Canadian song to make the top three. This song's a gut-busting powerhouse: Broken Social Scene's 5 guitars (or 6? 8? 10? Who knows how many members they have these days?) simultaneously wail, chug, and crunch, ultimately giving way to the triumphant flourish of the band's six-piece horn section (or is it 7-piece? 8? 10?). 4. Band of Horses - "Funeral" Winner of the annual wave-your-lighters-in-the-air song of the year. 5. Arctic Monkeys - "A Certain Romance" The year's most hyped band certainly does not disappoint. 6. Itchyworms - "Beer" Perfectly captures high-school inuman/sentiness moments. 7. New Pornographers - "Sing me Spanish Techno" Well-deserving of the song of the year nominations; also the most likely candidate for the song to get stuck in your head forever. 8. Peter Bjorn and John - "Young Folks" PB & J channel the spirit of early Belle and Sebastian, at least for this one song. 9. The Killers - "When You Were Young" The one time name-dropping Jesus absolutely works. 10. Lily Allen - "LDN" Well-deserving of its ubiquity. 11. Jointheclub - "Nobela" Winner of the annual guilty-pleasure-of-the-year award. 12. Cat Power - "Lived in Bars" This song gains immoratality by the time the doo-wops kick in at the middle. 13. My Chemical Romance - "Welcome to the Black Parade" Bohemian Rhapsody for little emo kids. 14. El Perro del Mar - "God Knows" What if someone buried a 60's song in a time capsule, only to be unearthed in 2006? 15. Gnarls Barkley - "Crazy" No 2006 list is complete without this one. Blah. Anyway, hope that one is at least up to par to my previous lists. I'll upload mp3s when I have the time. are you ready? ♥ 10

Post NDC blues. Here comes the fat lady. [Monday October 30th, 2006 at 11:28pm] [ mood | recumbent ] [ music | "Yes" - Manic Street Preachers ] Yep, that's the fat lady singing. Here I am, back from the first national debate championships in seven years where Ateneo did not come home as champions. No more sulking about the final round -- people obviously saw it in different ways. I have no intention turning this post into a flame war a la Aids' post-AUDC blog entry. I am proud of my performance the entire tournament, and I don't regret anything I did. There are quite a lot of things to be proud of, however: 1. Obligatory basketball reference: Possibly retiring as Charles Barkley. Yep; MVP without a crown. Again, no intentions to start a flame war - I'm sure there are also a few former best speakers and multi-finalists to retire without any major title save for a few IVs. Anyway, until further notice, I'll keep adjing in tourneys. Some people have dangled the idea of debating with me in AUDC or NDC next year. I told them to ask again next year, as I might still change my mind. 2. Hope for the flowers... err, the future: Having a nice set of young kids that are not only talented, but also hungry to win. World, watch out for the ADS kids; they are going to be a scary bunch. 3. Friends and alcohol: Knowing that your friends (thanks Leloy, Sharms, Miko, and Steph) are ready to waste their early morning bringing your miserable/inebriated self to a gotohan by the corner. Yummiest tapa I've *almost* tasted. 4. Karaoke: Knowing that everyone else (go ADS) is willing to waste the night away drinking while belting Bohemian Rhapsody, Total Eclipse of the Heart, and We are the Champions at full blast. Yes, that last one's deliberately ironic. 5. ...and love: Having the greatest and most comforting girlfriend in Yaan. After I called her a few ways off from the gym - while suppressing tears of disappointment - she sent me the following text: I know it's devastating to always step aside for others' successes even when you deserve so much more than what life has given you... I know it's a poor replacement, but if it's OK, if you'd be willing to accept, would it be possible for me to fill in whatever gap debating has left you with? I have nothing else to give but the promise that only you can win my heart and no one else. I love you, Glenn..." Now THAT would make anyone's heart melt more than a dozen trophies. ....although I'm still bitter at not receiving a best speaker trophy last year. :P (Long story. They gave the trophies to the public speakers instead and the tourney best speakers got mugs. I filled mine up with gin.) are you ready? ♥ 47

THESIS the end, my friend... [Friday October 6th, 2006 at 11:33pm] [ mood | ecstatic ] [ music | Shine on You Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd ] THESIS is over! Yes! All my four years of being a communication student culminated into this 109 page document. It's something I can pore over for hours and not get tired of. It, after all, is my "official contribution" to the academic world. My groupmates Yaan and Aaron both kicked ass - there were no group issues at all; just work work work. (As Aaron would say, "Work harder!") The thesis, by the way, is about identity construction and the semiotics of pop music. I still get a kick from having Clem Castro (the Orange and Lemons guy) serve as an official respondent in our thesis. Thesis panelist (and beloved teacher) Mr. Andrew Ty amusingly proceeded to bash Castro's supposed plagiarism of The Care's "Chandeliers." Our panelists were great - Sir Mark Escaler, Sir Andrew Ty, and Miss Maitel Ladrido. It was especially serendipitous that Yaan, Aaron, and I dressed up in a manner parallel to each of our panelists. I was in the typical Sir Mark white-on-black get-up; Aaron wore the trademark all-black Mr Ty get-up; Yaan's ruffled blouse and Lisa Loeb glasses were uncannily like Miss Maitel's. (To be fair, I wore my outfit on purpose, whereas Aaron's and Yaan's get-ups were serendipitous.) Now that thesis is done, there's something even better: I can finally debate for nationals. Yay! :) are you ready? ♥ 15

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