mads in manila

dylan and suzie rotolo

2011-04-16T00:13:00.000+08:00

gagarin

2011-04-16T00:12:00.000+08:00

attributed to joseph gordon-levitt

2011-04-02T01:00:00.001+08:00

“Supermarket tabloids and celebrity gossip shows are not just innocently shallow entertainment, but a fundamental part of a much larger movement that involves apathy, greed and hierarchy. Celebrity doesn’t have anything to do with art or craft. It’s about being rich and thinking that you’re better than everybody else.”

walter pater

2011-03-31T10:26:00.000+08:00

To burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life.

from herzog interview on the guardian

2011-03-13T10:25:00.000+08:00

What would you do if the world were to disappear tomorrow?"
And Martin Luther replied, "I would plant an apple tree today."

werner herzog

2011-03-12T14:21:00.002+08:00

I am always trying to find the next shadow.

Every man should pull a boat over a mountain once in his life.

The universe is not harmonious: you know that by looking outside.

nietzsche

2011-03-12T11:46:00.002+08:00

Why must we proclaim so loudly and with such intensity what we are, what we want, and what we do not want?

nietzsche

2011-03-12T11:46:00.001+08:00

Why must we proclaim so loudly and with such intensity what we are, what we want, and what we do not want?

oscar wilde

2011-03-11T19:55:00.001+08:00

The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.

from ffffound.com

2011-03-10T20:12:00.000+08:00

chuck palahniuk

2011-02-20T22:55:00.001+08:00

Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.

proverbs 27:19

2011-02-05T11:35:00.000+08:00

As water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man.

christopher okigbo

2011-01-19T00:04:00.003+08:00

Me to the orangery
Solitude invites,
A wagtail, to tell
The tangled-wood-tale;
A sunbird, to mourn
A mother on spray.

eduard limonov

2011-01-18T22:55:00.002+08:00

samuel beckett

2011-01-18T22:54:00.002+08:00

banville

2011-01-15T02:17:00.001+08:00

Yes, that’s one of the many things I hate about life, that it’s a hideously clichéd business.

the past beats inside me like a second heart--banville

2011-01-15T02:13:00.000+08:00

Many of your readers found Max, the narrator of The Sea, much more sympathetic than your previous narrators. Did that surprise you?

BANVILLE

I didn’t think that Max was more warmhearted or approachable than any of my other narrators. He is weaker, and in a more devastated position in his life. Very many readers of The Sea cite to me the line, “The past beats inside me like a second heart.” I wonder why it has such appeal. I’ve written better sentences, but this one seems emblematic of whatever it is in the book that caught people’s imaginations and—dare I say it?—needs. I think what affects readers most immediately in the book is the theme of childhood. Most of the people who talk to me about the book dwell on the childhood sequences—I suspect they race through the grown-up sections in order to get to the next bit about the seaside. It’s understandable. Those childhood loves that we experienced when we were ten or eleven were entirely pure, in every sense of the word. When we were at that age, the emotions we felt were pure because we were experiencing them for the first time. We didn’t know how to do sex, we didn’t know what to do with our bodies, but we thought there was some great secret that we might crack in about five years’ time. As we find out, of course, the secret never gets cracked. But that’s another story—another novel.

banville in paris review interview

2011-01-15T02:11:00.000+08:00

The world is a dark place, and I find it endlessly funny.

john banville

2011-01-15T02:10:00.000+08:00

In love the loved one is the gilded mirror in which the lover admires himself. In the early stages there is tenderness and gaiety and fun, but these rapidly fade and we go into possession mode, trying to grasp the mirror and frequently smashing it.

nietzsche

2011-01-15T01:59:00.000+08:00

“You will never get the crowd to cry hosanna until you ride into town on an ass.”

jonathan raban

2010-12-20T23:04:00.002+08:00

"Away from a suitable ocean, I'll happily stand by a puddle in the street on a windy day, gazing at air transferring its energy to water."

dilma rousseff

2010-12-14T23:32:00.000+08:00

gleick's chaos

2010-12-12T13:13:00.003+08:00

James Gleick: There was a story about the quantum theorist Werner Heisenberg, on his deathbed, declaring that he will have two questions for God: why relativity, and why turbulence. Heisenberg says, "I really think He may have an answer to the first question."

Mitchell Feigenbaum: I truly do want to know how to describe clouds. But to say there's a piece over here with that much density, and next to it a piece with this much density--to accumulate that much detailed information, I think is wrong. It's certainly not how a human being perceives those things, and it's not how an artist perceives them. Somewhere the business of writing down partial differential equations is not to have done the work on the problem.

from edward docx on stieg larsson and dan brown

2010-12-12T13:05:00.000+08:00

Literary essayist Isaac D'Israeli, "it seems to me a wretched national compulsion to be gratified by mediocrity when the excellent lies before us."

almost done

2010-12-03T00:35:00.000+08:00

roosevelt's war

2010-11-20T00:07:00.001+08:00

Starting. interesting bit so far is on Stephenson -- the man called Intrepid. Nice bits about Ultra and Enigma.

borges

2010-11-20T00:02:00.001+08:00

Finished. Eventful life. Not spent inside libraries all the time. The thing is to produce. I guess.

reeling

2010-11-19T23:07:00.001+08:00

Still sad from tim fisher's death.

almost done

2010-11-19T23:01:00.001+08:00

Just having problems with one unwieldy piece that might have to unload just so we can get this thing going. its been too long.

suggested listening

2009-11-24T21:45:00.005+08:00

Sanders Bohlke "Weight Of Us"
Black Lips ¨Bad Kids¨
Bilal "When Will You Call"
George Michael "I Can't Make You Love Me"
D'Angelo "Me And Those Dreamin' Eyes of Mine"
Jake Shimabukuro "In My Life"
Alison Krauss and Yo-Yo Ma "Slumber My Darling"
The Waterboys "It Should Have Been You"

miike's "audition"

2009-11-24T21:15:00.001+08:00

Still reeling from piano wire-severing-foot scene. i must be getting old. can't handle gratuitous violence anymore.

Kate Nash "We Get On"

2009-11-24T21:09:00.001+08:00

Simply, knowing you exist aint good enough for me
But asking for your telephone number seems highly inappropriate

Seeing as I can't
You don't say hi
As you walk by

And that time you shook my hand it felt so nice
I swear I never felt this way about any other guy
And I don't usually notice people's eyes but..

I conducted a plan to bump into you most accidentally
But I was walking along and bumped into you
Much more heavily than I had originally planned
It was well embarrassing and I think you thought I was a bit of a twat

I just think that we'd get on
And I wish I could tell you face to face
Without singing this stupid song
But yeah I just think that we'd get on

So I went to that party
Everyone, they looked kind of arty
And I was wearing this dress
Cause I wanted to impress
But I wasn't sure that I looked my best
Cause I was so nervous
But carried on regardless
Strutting through each room trying to find you

Then I saw you kissing that girl
My heart it shattered
And my eyes they watered
And when I tried to speak I stuttered
And my friends were like whatever
You'll get some one better
His eyes are way to close together
And we never even liked him from the start
And now he's with that tart
And I herd she done some really nasty stuff down in the park
With Michael
He said she's easy
And if your guys with the one that's sleazy
Then he aint worth your time
Cause you deserve a real nice guy

So I proceeded to get drunk
And to cry
Locked myself in the toilets for the entire night

Saturday night I watched channel 5
I particularly liked CSI
I don't ever dream about you and me
I don't ever make up stuff about you and me
That could be considered insanity
I don't ever drive by your house
To see if you're in
I don't even have an opinion
On that tramp that you're still seeing
I don't know your timetable
I don't know your face off by heart
But I must admit there's a part
That still thinks that
We might get on
We might get on

nov 24, 2009

2009-11-24T20:57:00.003+08:00

Looked at pinoybiswalstyle blog and found its notched more than 31,000 hits since it began. Also got award from Digital Pinoy for best Arts-related site. Thanks. Trophy with Jay who deserves to keep it. Thanks Jay. Boojie started a new site: jackthescribbler.com

Like Garden Snails United Against Gravity

2009-06-24T08:31:00.002+08:00

One day in the car
7-year-old Maria Lourdes confided
that she’s had one dream come true.

She had dreamed that she and a classmate
would play together,

and sure enough in school the following day
she and her classmate did play together.

Then she told me that another time,
she had dreamt that she would turn into a building
while her brother, Alex, became a kitchen sink.

Alex chimed in, eyes wide in wonder, saying
he’s had this same exact dream,
only in his, he said, he turned into a giraffe.

‘What’s your favorite animal?’
Alex inquired.

I considered this for a long time before saying,
‘It’s a toss up between
Phaenicophaeus cumingi—
The Scale-feathered Malkoha

and Hypothymis coelestis—
The Celestial Monarch.’

An echoing hollowness.
The two stared ahead,
eyes blinking asynchronously.

Then, because it helps people,
Maria Lourdes whispered that her favorite animal
was Sasquatch.

‘Big Foot?’ I yelped.
Smiling, she nodded.

Seven years old, wide open as the weather,
she said that the time her dream came true was like a miracle.

I told her it was.

idea for book cover

2009-06-24T03:55:00.006+08:00

image from ffffound.

Tentative titles:
1. The Armageddon Tastes Better with Bacon (maybe not...)
2. I Need You So Much Closer
3. A Pretty Good Thing Going
4. One Day I Will Make It Up To You
5. The Last Stand of Good Folks
6. Say Yes to Ruckus
7. Help Would Only Confuse Me
8. The Beast We Ride
9. The Last Stand of Folks Who Regret Nothing

bye bye scratch, trying to recapture silliness

2009-06-24T03:23:00.001+08:00

hard to believe scratch is gone. cats are wonderful to do silly things with because they're so serious most of the time.

bye bye scratch

2009-06-24T02:42:00.007+08:00

Scratch died yesterday, June 23, 2009, 10am. Scratch loved to wake us up every morning by putting his paws on our cheeks and gently pushing and meowing. Scratch once killed a hamster accidentally, and scratched the face of a photographer's daughter (not so accidentally). We both survived an earthquake. Scratch was there when I had no work and watched cable shows all day. Scratch had blue eyes and bad breath caused by bad teeth (like mine). Scratch loved to drink water from deep containers like pails and the toilet bowl. He liked to see water sloshing and loved to lie on his back and have his tummy rubbed. He was very trusting of people (I believe Scratch was never hurt by people) and distrusted other cats (with good reason). Scratch was devoted to Lu-Ann, who raised him and fed him a can of tuna a day when he was a kitten back when they were living in a street called Hope. Scratch joins Spoon, Cuervo, and Ms Melba Suzuki.

2008-09-23T02:26:00.000+08:00

dexter

2008-09-23T02:23:00.000+08:00

The Gate of Horn

2008-09-13T13:57:00.001+08:00

by L.S. Asekoff

Forgive me if I seem a bit at sea
but you woke me from a dream of words
I was setting to music I’ll want you
to transcribe for me—a quatrain Shakespeare wrote
when he was eleven, “The uncertain glory
of an April day.” At my age, what is life
but a recitativo oscuro, with its shadowy intimations,
musical aphorisms, librettos in a sigh.
Caught between willful tempestuousness
& bewildering geometries, we dread & long for
those moments of cruel lucidity that fix us as we are—Mallarmé’s
swan
frozen in ice . . .

Last night I sat here alone in the dark
listening to the overture of the coming storm—distant rumbling
like sheet metal rolling off a giant press, then the true
cacophony, a delirium of lightning bolts, thunderclaps,
whiff of ozone in charged air—as though nature’s wunderkind—
“a lion flayed alive”—drove a lyric electric concert grand
hurtling over Niagara Falls. As my kinsman,
that half-caste past master of the hyper-climactic
molto grandioso crescendo, Beethoven,
reminds us, “The world is king,” & we but paupers,
doing its bidding. Staring out the window in the rain
I could feel time passing like a wall of moving mirrors,
a river in which is reflected the wing of evening
speckled with stars, & thought, Night sky, whose mind are you?
The stars, the stars are inside our heads. & now
out of the silence the dead rising: ghosts of Buffalo soldiers
& Ogalala Sioux—winged messengers—like great blue herons
arrowing over the lake where the black spring lambs gambol,
late for the sacrifice . . .

After the storm,
I followed the tone rows & tentative tap tap tap
of drainpipe off metal roof—a blind man’s cane, wandering
Oedipus—sensations uprooted to atmospheric effects,
the many weathers of this moment, this place—
its windy gusts, fleeting moods, scherzo of cloud shadow
racing over rockface—& wondered, at the risk of forgetfulness,
where do we go, venturing forth beyond our murky
origins? Recapture against failing light
memories of a rusted harrow leaning upon
a dusky barn door, a swaybacked horse the color of “bricks
wrapped in silk,” thunder of boots on a hardwood floor,
& smell once more that starched white linen apron
we buried our eyes in. I hate farewells, don’t you?
& the terror of coming back to what is at once new
& familiar, a reunion of two times chimed exactly
that leaves us estranged from ourselves, staring at shadows
trembling in the shade. What will save us? Who appear
at the head of our bed announcing, “Cast off your shackles
& chains!” & place in our hands the sacred instruments,
show us the great tablets scriven in the sky,
prophesying, “These are road signs to Heaven
& gateways to the Pearly Everlasting!” & looking up
we shall see on high the letters & the numbers, the figures
of the creatures of the Lord, all carved in the frozen music
of stone—the Lion lying down with the Lamb, the Oriole
serenading the lowly Mule at dawn, the Dove fanning
the Night Nurse’s brow, the three Angels washing the feet
of the weary Day Laborer, & His Son come down in a cloud at last
to lift the veil . . .

Do raise the shade—& fill that glass.
Ah, whiskey is a great river . . . Is that a sunspot or a swan? . . .
What do I miss most at my age? . . .
Seeing the stars.

dutch in september heat

2008-09-08T23:21:00.000+08:00

double dutch

2008-09-08T23:11:00.001+08:00

dutch in september

2008-09-08T22:56:00.001+08:00

emo for obama

2008-09-06T01:48:00.000+08:00

coal after watching a Die Hard marathon on tv

2008-09-01T22:36:00.004+08:00

Coal doing her John McClane impression. Die Hard 4.0 was way better than I thought and I still still don't get how McClane and Zeus solved the water jug puzzle--it didn't make any sense at all.

laika in space

2008-08-23T19:08:00.003+08:00

Para Laika. En la tierra hay una perra menos y en el cielo una estrella más.

For Laika. In the Earth there is a dog less, and in the sky one more star.

'Here I am Lost in space
Dead and buried remnant Of the canine race
Tried to make a go of it but couldn’t keep the pace
Got the queen of spades but Kruschev got the ace.’

(From motel de moka)

You Will Be Hearing From Us Shortly

2008-08-23T00:12:00.000+08:00

You feel adequate to the demands of this position?
What qualities do you feel you
Personally have to offer?
Ah.

Let us consider your application form.
Your qualifications, though impressive, are
Not, we must admit, precisely what
We had in mind. Would you care
To defend their relevance?
Indeed.

Now your age. Perhaps you feel able
To make your own comment about that,
Too? We are conscious ourselves
Of the need for a candidate with precisely
The right degree of immaturity.
So glad we agree.

And now a delicate matter: your looks.
You do appreciate this work involves
Contact with the actual public? Might they,
Perhaps, find your appearance
Disturbing?
Quite so.

And your accent. That is the way
You have always spoken, is it? What
Of your education? We mean, of course,
Where were you educated?
And how
Much of a handicap is that to you,
Would you say?

Married, children,
We see. The usual dubious
Desire to perpetuate what had better
Not have happened at all. We do not
Ask what domestic desires shimmer
Behind that vaguely unsuitable address.

And you were born--?
Yes. Pity.

So glad we agree.

by U. A. Fanthorpe

Office Friendships

2008-08-23T00:06:00.000+08:00

Eve is madly in love with Hugh
And Hugh is keen on Jim.
Charles is in love with very few
And few are in love with him.

Myra sits typing notes of love
With romantic pianist's fingers.
Dick turns his eyes to the heavens above
Where Fran's divine perfume lingers.

Nicky is rolling eyes and tits
And flaunting her wiggly walk
Everybody is thrilled to bits
By Clive's suggestive talk.

Sex suppressed will go berserk,
But it keeps us all alive.
It's a wonderful change from wives and work.
And it ends at half past five.

by Gavin Ewart

The Former Miner Returns from His First Day as a Service Worker (at a McDonald's somewhere in Appalachia)

2008-08-23T00:02:00.000+08:00

All day he crushed the spongy buns, pawed at
The lids of burger boxes and kiddie pacs
As if they were chinese puzzles.

All day long his hands ticked, ready to latch on
Or heave or curl around a tool
Heavier than a spatula,

All day he rubbed his eyes in the crisp light.
All day the blue tile, the polished chrome, said
Be nimble, be jolly, be quick.

All day he grinned while the public, with bland
Or befuddled faces, scowled over his head
And mumbled, whispered, snarled, and snapped.

All day his coworkers, pink and scrubbed,
Prattled and glided and skipped while he,
All bulk and balk, rumbled and banged.

Near shift's end he daydreamed - of the clang
Of rock on steel, the skreel
Of a conveyer belt, the rattling whine
Of the man-trip, the miner's growl of gears
As if gnarled, toothing at the seam.

He makes his slow way home, shadow among
Roadside shadows, groping back in himself
For that deep, sheltering dark.
He has never been so tired.
His hands have never been so clean.

by Mark Defoe

coaljr and bird

2008-08-12T17:16:00.001+08:00

dutch and coaljr

2008-08-12T17:12:00.001+08:00

lourdes and al

2008-08-11T10:37:00.000+08:00

scratch bakumatsu

2008-08-11T10:36:00.000+08:00

lu-ann bakumatsu

2008-08-11T10:26:00.003+08:00

dutch bakumatsu

2008-08-11T10:24:00.000+08:00

coal bakumatsu

2008-08-11T10:18:00.000+08:00

draft 2 cover

2008-08-06T23:46:00.000+08:00

bow down to our new subatomic overlords

2008-08-02T14:09:00.004+08:00

Large Hadron Collider: *This thing is gonna kill us all.*

coal the persian

2008-08-01T02:29:00.000+08:00

scratch

2008-07-31T23:26:00.000+08:00

cover 2 sample

2008-07-31T23:04:00.000+08:00

tips for a happier life

2008-07-31T22:42:00.002+08:00

1) Lahat ng problema may solusyon, kapag walang solusyon, huwag mo na problemahin.
2) Always remember - kung kaya ng iba, ipagawa mo sa kanila,why tire yourself?
3) Hindi lahat ng gwapo may girlfriend, ang iba sa kanila may boyfriend
4) Di bale nang tamad di naman pagod.
5) Practice makes perfect, but nobody is perfect so don't practice.
6) Don't face your problem if your problem is your face.

cover draft 2

2008-07-29T15:11:00.001+08:00

almost there

2008-07-27T21:15:00.004+08:00

book project is almost done. i've asked a friend for a cover photo to replace the basic design (above) that i have been toying with.

randy pausch passes away

2008-07-27T05:07:00.001+08:00

Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams

woody allen interviews billy graham

2008-07-26T22:04:00.000+08:00

maki and sparky in fire island

2008-07-26T21:54:00.003+08:00

tasty waves.

nudists somewhere in the vicinity.

willie van groundskeeper

2008-07-21T11:07:00.000+08:00

Tempbot by Neill Bloomkamp

2008-07-20T15:08:00.001+08:00

Alive in Joburg by Neill Bloomkamp

2008-07-20T15:05:00.002+08:00

My favorite director.

david

2008-07-20T02:11:00.001+08:00

Watchmen

2008-07-19T16:28:00.003+08:00

Directed by the guy who did "300." Smashing Pumpkins music on the trailer.

The Deadly Coal the Persian

2008-07-17T15:21:00.002+08:00

hard at work (like sparky)

2008-07-16T19:15:00.002+08:00

yardwear

2008-07-16T08:35:00.002+08:00

obey reconstruction

2008-07-16T08:33:00.002+08:00

dj shadow

neatorama

2008-07-15T20:24:00.002+08:00

Find out more about this design: Neatoramabot T-Shirt

dexter

2008-07-14T09:41:00.001+08:00

cubao

2008-07-12T13:31:00.002+08:00

this is our moment. this is our time

2008-07-11T23:28:00.000+08:00

hoppipola

2008-07-08T13:03:00.000+08:00

coal watching larry king

2008-07-07T17:24:00.006+08:00

Another UFO sightings episode.

coal listening to matt the hoople

2008-07-07T16:29:00.000+08:00

coal de doodle

2008-07-07T16:21:00.003+08:00

While listening to Sufjan Stevens and Tindersticks.

flight of the conchords cd cover

2008-07-06T15:09:00.000+08:00

Hello Handsome

2008-07-05T23:07:00.004+08:00

Awesome photo from the Oklahoma Microscopic Society.

Love Calls Us to the Things of This World

2008-07-04T11:51:00.002+08:00

Richard Wilbur

The eyes open to a cry of pulleys,
And spirited from sleep, the astounded soul
Hangs for a moment bodiless and simple
As false dawn.
Outside the open window
The morning air is all awash with angels.

Some are in bed-sheets, some are in blouses,
Some are in smocks: but truly there they are.
Now they are rising together in calm swells
Of halcyon feeling, filling whatever they wear
With the deep joy of their impersonal breathing;

Now they are flying in place, conveying
The terrible speed of their omnipresence, moving
And staying like white water; and now of a sudden
They swoon down into so rapt a quiet
That nobody seems to be there.
The soul shrinks

From all that is about to remember,
From the punctual rape of every blessed day,
And cries,
"Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.''

Yet, as the sun acknowledges
With a warm look the world's hunks and colors,
The soul descends once more in bitter love
To accept the waking body, saying now
In a changed voice as the man yawns and rises,

"Bring them down from their ruddy gallows;
Let there be clean linen for the backs of thieves;
Let lovers go fresh and sweet to be undone,
And the heaviest nuns walk in a pure floating
Of dark habits,
keeping their difficult balance.''

let's put a smile on that face

2008-07-03T19:20:00.004+08:00

new posters for batman

2008-07-03T19:05:00.004+08:00

yey

2008-07-03T10:21:00.002+08:00

ice cube dreams

2008-07-01T21:15:00.000+08:00

ffffound!

and the sooner we accept it, the more peaceful we become

2008-06-30T12:49:00.001+08:00

Pacquiao-Diaz Match As Visual Spectacle

2008-06-29T16:18:00.018+08:00

Match report on the WBC lightweight championship bout between David Diaz and Manny Pacquiao as shown on GMA Channel 7 on June 29, 2008.

Preliminaries: Manny aims to join the ranks of the illustrious few who have held four world titles in four different weight divisions. Standing in his way is WBC lightweight champ David Diaz, 32 years old to Manny’s 29.

National anthems: First off is the Lupang Hinirang with, um, Nicole Angela? She has on one of Imelda’s butterfly-sleeved dresses, which strangely, looks smashing on top of a boxing ring. Did they announce Jasmine Trias for the Star-Spangled? No. Who is this kid? She looks like she was plucked from the mall. But she does a decent go at Star-Spangled Banner. No Mexican anthem causes a stir. Murmurs of Diaz really being from Chicago and is no Mexicano.

First commercial break (*groan*): Jet Li catches the attention of club girls by flying around room in SMB ad. Show off! Then its Robin Padilla who shows us his burned arm and surgical scars. Then he kicks a punching bag in retaliation for his injuries. Cord Marine Epoxy has a muscly guy hammer at a wooden boat. Impressed that he made no dent on the boat, his audience clap their hands! Then it's Richard Gutierrez trying to look like he’s acting by scrunching his eyebrows. Bulldog Super Glue has a group of goons hang a man upside down like what the partisans did to Mussolini. “Bumaliktad Na Kayo!” the voice-over thunders. Priceless!

Our fighters emerge from the tunnel: Hold up, Mike Tyson is in the building. Iron Mike looks like can bite your head off, especially when he smiles like that. Camera tries in vain to look for a hottie in the audience and instead finds a dude holding up a sign: Pacquiao Marry Me! Is gay marriage allowed in Sin City? That I did not know.

Manny looks relaxed as he emerges from the tunnel. Diaz comes out next to an old geezer wearing glasses and a cowboy hat and who looks as old as John McCain. Diaz has on a Mexican-style poncho. I thought he was from Chicago?

The dapper dude with the smooth voice gets on the mic: He intros Manny who has lackeys display three belts behind him. Impressive. One of the belts is held aloft by the novelty-song composer whose name escapes me now. Announcer gets to Manny’s 3-time world champion creds and the crowd goes wild.

Diaz is introduced. 1996 Olympian. Reigning lightweight WBC champion of the world. But when he removes his poncho we see him wearing a disappointing white shirt with what looks like a bad copy of the Daredevil logo. Advantage Pacquiao.

Our commentators are the trio of Quinito Henson, Jun Donaire and Chino Trinidad.

ROUND 1: And we're on. Manny looks the brighter of the two. Manny’s abs look like they could eat Diaz alive.
Quinito excitedly barks: "Diaz has no footwork, Jun!"
But we can’t see because the lower half of the screen is filled with a SMART ad. Damn. Finally the ads clear out and we see Manny has the better-looking footwear with his space-age Nikes which should fetch quite a sum in e-Bay one day. Quinito begins to sound worried but Diaz looks like he’s wading in molasses. Bell!

BREAK: Piolo on a mountain pass for SMART. He smiles cutely at a middle-aged shopkeeper who shrieks. There’s a bald baby for Head And Shoulders. Cherifer Syrup “Subok Na Tangkad Agad!”: I bet Manny never had this snake oil when he was young and poor. Frenzy condoms! For Coke, an angel flies down to earth and grabs a Coke thereby losing her wings. Guy with her has weird bumps on head! He's a handsome devil! Edu Manzano shilling for LBC with dancing folks wearing hilarious glittering crowns. Dingdong Dantes shilling liquor. For Clear shampoo, Piolo has moved from the mountains into a black corporate purgatory talking about the need for change but he's wearing conservative black. Boring.

ROUND 2: Manny and Diaz are both wearing white. How will our color-blind friends tell them apart? Diaz is the one getting pounded.
Chino rhapsodizes: "Manny has thrown all punches!" Huh?
Quinito pipes in with a worried comment which I didn’t catch because we are on break.
Blood spurts from Diaz's head.

BREAK: Aga pushes a hidden button on his neck and omigod his chest opens up and his lungs light up. LBC Padala: Track athlete gets a box. Finds an umbrella. Just in time as a thunderstorm hits. Makakarating! Motolite Express Delivery: Wife goes into labor and the car’s battery’s dead! What to do? Text Motolite and they’ll send a new battery. Hmm. Even in the middle of the night? Yes! In a thunderstorm? Yes! In Alaxan FR: Manny says “Masil.” Dingdong is creepy when he opens up with “Masarap siya. Mabango” for a brandy.

ROUND 3: Chino is cut off as SMB sneaks in one more ad. Donaire says some sensible things. Chino is more excitable and barks like a carnie announcer, but is good for morale. Quinito is silent, worried maybe.
“Exchange ratio is 1 to 3,” says Chino mathematically.
“Partner, I haven’t seen Diaz stagger from this fight,” says a worried Quinito, as Manny lands punches at will, messing up his opponent’s face.
“Kumakain ba ito ng bakal sa almusal?” rattles off Chino, mixing gastronomy with the metallurgical.
This makes Donaire giggle.
Bell!
“Manny outboxing the durable David Diaz,” Chino breathlessly raps as the ref escorts a dazed Diaz to his cornermen, who has yet to produce a bright idea for their boy.

BREAK: John Lloyd for SMART Money: Lots of things happen with people standing in line and a gay guy in a saloon. It ends with John Lloyd meeting gorgeous Bea Alonzo in a resto. Padilla for Rexona: After pummeling a punching bag for Revicon, he shills for a deodorant. He keeps on his shirt this time. MACH 5 has a sexy girl dancing—and I can imagine the editors of MAXIM or FHM making mental notes on this girl. I’m not sure what MACH 5 is but it has “Guarana” which reminds me of bat poo. Robin Padilla says he’s quit drinking as he endorses something called Liveraide Silymarin Capsule. Marian Rivera and Nikki Gil “made their lives happen” with a shampoo whose name I didn’t catch. LBC Padala: A dirty bum shouts “Magbabayad ang Lahat” which makes me laugh for no reason except that my former boss owes me money and is in hiding.

ROUND 4: Darwinian Chino: "Dito mo makikita ang evolution ni Manny P!"
Diaz keeps getting tagged by Manny’s right hand you want to run to the Diaz corner and throttle his trainers. What are they doing? Ringside physio is consulted. Doc says go. Manny resumes punishment and hammers Diaz with a right which snaps back the latter’s head. Blood splatters their white shorts. Sweet science indeed.

BREAK: Purefoods Tender Juicy Sweet Corn Hotdog (say that again as fast as you can!). Phew! Manny again for Alaxan FR saying “masil.” “Wanted” trailer with Angelina Jolie. Woohoo.
Jolie: "Kill one, save a thousand."
Is that what they teach at the UN Ambassador school? Does Ban Ki-Moon know about this? Bad Jolie! That skinny ass needs a spanking! A new GMA show with Regine Velazquez who’s slowly resembling Michael Jackson. She kisses Mark Anthony Fernandez who always look sad, it makes you sad as well.

ROUND 5: Diaz is having a torrid time. The Diaz cut man has to be fired after this. Manny unscathed. Round ends.

BREAK: Again, Robin Padilla kicks a defenseless bag to death. Cream Silk with lots of microscopic photography showing hair strands in close-up. Master Pore Minimizer for Men. LBC Padala: government office with boss hitting a dozing staff is the best ad so far!

ROUND 6: Donaire with more sensible observations. Chino draws the silent Quinito into the conversation. Quinito sounds less worried now that Diaz’s face looks like a bloody slab of meat. Manny looks so fresh its ridiculous. Manny’s right jabs are killing Diaz. Oh wait! Diaz tags Manny with a combination but it doesn’t faze our man (it must be all those Alaxan FR). Diaz holds his right hand too low, leaving him open to attack. Bell!

BREAK: Mark Caguioa has such a smooth and shiny head as he shills for Barangay Ginebra. Boys swilling hard liquor followed by Padilla in Liveraide ad who says no to drinking. Says he only needs water and Liveraide. That’s cool! Then its Mister Donut Smidgets with a jingle that sounds suspiciously familiar. Cobra Sports Drink! E-Aji potato chips being eaten in slo-mo by one of Ramon Revilla's nine hundred gorgeous daughters.

ROUND 7: Dramatic Chino intones: "The onslaught of Manny Pacquiao."
And gets no response.
The Diaz cut man must be on strike because the blood is in free flow now. Diaz still stands. Amazing! Ref cautions Manny. Crowd boos ref. Manny frustrated that Diaz still up and absolutely batters his face to pulp. Diaz has no response.
Chino wins comment-of-the-round award: "Tingnan mo yung mukha ni Diaz, andun na ang tatak ng gloves ni Manny Pacquiao." And with that we go on break.

BREAK: Manny’s training partner cries out in pain and Manny says : "Tignan mo ang masil na yan.” Manny again, looking a bit like Piolo Pascual, in Talk ‘N Text: But there’s so much going on it’s hard to understand what’s being sold. An argument about Coke Zero ends in two white dudes driving off a mountain road. Motorstar ad looks like it was made with Powerpoint but their bikes look awesome. Boysen Roofgard couple reunites on rainy rooftop, which could be fatal for all parties.

ROUND 8: Chino: "Ito ang tinatawag naming..." But he is cut off by an SMB ad.
Rare shot of Manny corner: “Feint and throw that uppercut,” says Roach, cool as ice.
Chino: "Who has had 4 titles in four different weight classes?"
Commentators wisely keep silent perhaps out of respect for Diaz, who is still hanging on.
We go on break.

BREAK: ML Kuwarta Padala: Ogie Alcasid in a knife-throwing circus scene. Nation Paint: A guy pees on a freshly-painted wall and gets the ire of the invisible voice-over girl. Cheeky Frenzy condoms ad followed by a government ad showing Pres. Arroyo’s good points. Aga again and his glowing lungs for Solmux.

ROUND 9: “This is not what I bargained for,” says Chino. His sentence rendered incomprehensible by another SMB ad that sneaked in. Well, SMB is paying here so who’s complaining?
“Pretty much,” chimes in Donaire. Again, mangled by an ad.
Quinito pipes in worriedly: “This is where Diaz is dangerous, the late rounds.”
Boom.
Diaz is down.
No stupid staggering around.
Just boom.
He goes down. Like a rag doll.
After the initial chaos, the camera zooms in and we get a shot of Diaz. Right brow is cut, cut on bridge of nose, and left brow is swollen monstrously. He’s had it.

BREAK: The flurry of ads keep on coming, but it’s hard to concentrate on them. The mind is still on the ring with the downed Diaz. The guy had a lot of heart but Manny was too quick, too powerful. Better fighter. I have a lump in my throat the size of Manny’s latest SUV, but I try to keep my tears from… oh shit oh shit oh shit.

AND SO: Manny joins the pantheon of fighters who have four world titles in four different weight divisions. Politicians Chavit Singson and JV Ejercito mug for the camera. Manny is interviewed by Chino who looks great in a suit, by the way.
Manny: "Salamat sa lahat ng nanonood sa akin sa Pilipinas, salamat, especially to God."

Cut to Gen. Santos City where we see an exhausted Aling Dionisia (who looks like she's gone through nine rounds herself) speaking to her son on the celphone.
Aling Dionisia: "Thanks God. Dalawang oras ko tiniis 'to."

Cut to people and kids jumping in joy and helping themselves to pancit. As usual, a reporter barks that no crime was reported during the match. And with that, we are out.

BEST ADS:
1. LBC Padala's dozing government employee whacked on head with rolled-up cardboard.
2. Bulldog Super Glue's hang-a-guy-by-his-heels test and "Bumaliktad Na Kayo" slogan.
3. Cord Marine Epoxy's "No Camera Tricks" hammer-a-boat test.

marc sinq-mars

2008-06-29T03:54:00.002+08:00

i can dig it

2008-06-29T02:26:00.001+08:00

so i won't forget

2008-06-29T01:43:00.009+08:00

1. tv sets with stalks
2. room corners
3. melting plastic chairs (melee)
4. windshields and bats (i've got bad news baby, and you're the first to know
5. fireball kittens
6. win, etc
7. sea urchin closeup
8. Multi-Ghilly suit
9. urban warfare suit (cardboard, plastic bags, plastic bottles)
10. hoodie barongs and imelda sayas
11. He who pays the piper calls the tune/pay the piper at the bottom
12. Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want.

Photo from "Relating Latvia (2005-2008)" by Henril Duncker

If You Only Knew

2008-06-28T23:18:00.001+08:00

by Marjorie Bruhmuller

I would not
have wasted so much time
eating French-fries from the greasy spoon
humming Bee Gees tunes to the jukebox
drinking Coca-Cola with Fabienne
and the others at the beach.

If I could return to a time
before you made that deal
behind my back I would glue
the wet grass to the soles of my feet
drink up the lake, cut out the sky
and roll it into my pocket.
Slice the trees into ribbons
to tie in my hair, take each pebble
grey layer of clay to build a wall
around it ever happening again.

All the blue-jays, chickadees
crickets and monarchs
I'd gather into my arms
stuff their voices down my throat
fold the wings tenderly into a kite
squash crayfish and minnows
between my toes.

I'd bite the sunrise into my mouth
like a peach, wear the sunset
askew on my head for a hat
slip the silvering moon
onto my finger.

I would tie the cottage
wood stove intact to the wheelbarrow
with the clothesline hang the view
in each window for curtains.

And like summer's bag lady
I would carry my home
a one woman caravan
down the road
with my evicted heart.

Apeman

2008-06-28T22:59:00.002+08:00

by Nate Pritts

All the normally tectonic hunks of cloud, white
white flesh bruised by light, have fused

into one big pangea of fluff. I don't know
if that means anything but I think it should;
I think everything has some sort of obligation

to contain at least a small understanding of the world.
When my wife said she wanted a divorce I just nodded

& left her with her new alpha male, hating that I didn't fight
or call her bluff, pound my chest & shake every tree
within reach. Ah, that would be the life: simple responses

to big worries. I could yell at my food to tell it
I was coming to kill it & I'd let people know I loved them

by hitting myself, purple splotches blossoming
on my chest like clouds. Anybody could see
there was something inside that hurt so much I wanted it out.

i dig the lightning bolts

2008-06-28T20:23:00.001+08:00

I tried once again to watch Battlestar Galactica and for the life of me I couldn't understand these Cylons. What do they want? What do the Cylons want? If they want to annihilate humans then do it already! Ok, back to Flight of the Conchords and Dexter.

nice poster

2008-06-28T12:29:00.002+08:00

Revolutionary facial hair.