brain dregs: the un-used 80%

Easy to Hate

2008-12-15T06:05:42Z

A conversation late last night / early this morning with Big Boy and LR over ice cream, cheese rings and coke brought about this nugget of wisdom / crap:

"Between love and hate, hate is easier. The very nature of love requires reciprocation and no matter how much you shower love on anyone, it never guarantees that it will be returned. Hate, one the other hand, does not require equal feelings. It is quite possible, and very easy, to hate someone who does not hate you back. And yes, when you heap hate on someone, it's entirely possible that they would learn to hate you right back -- but that hardly matters as hate does not require to be returned."

(Sleep deprivation x the time of the day or night) + (weirdoks) + (sugar) = random pieces of brilliance.

Or statements I feel will bite me in the ass at some point.

Random Velma Thoughts

2008-11-21T06:56:20Z

[Written at the Johannesburg airport, back-dated in Singapore]

7 years ago, on this very day, Velma was lost to us. Violently. In a way that ruined the face that she spent more than 6 decades maintaining and keeping young. The face that I loved. That I still love.

The face that looks exactly like the one in the mirror.

The same chinky eyes. The same forehead -- with barely noticeable widow's peaks and birth marks (though hers was a clover-shaped one and mine is a tiny bump on the left side). The same brow shape (though hers was slightly over-plucked). The same skin hue and tint. The same bored expressions when our faces are relaxed. And when I smile, my eyes disappear very much the same way hers used to do when she smiled. And yes, my frown is very much like hers, too (though hers was usually accompanied by scathing words, and mine generally come with sarcasm).

When I was young, Velma and I both rejected our resemblance. She didn't particularly think that I was pretty so for her it meant that there was no way that we looked alike. She (and the rest of my family) used to say that I looked like Charles Bronson -- which I thought was insulting because he had an overly-crinkled face and he had facial hair!

But then again, at that time, between looking like my mother and Charles Bronson, I preferred the latter.

She was, after all, some kind of socialite who needed (heck, demanded) people to take care of her. She always looked so glammed up and delicate. Which meant that for the longest time, the only way I could relate to her was from the standpoint of over-protectiveness. I took care of her. When the Manipulative Bastard betrayed her, I moved into her room because she was not used to sleeping alone and I worried that she would forego sleep for crying. Whenever I would see her face fall and remember just exactly what the Manipulative Bastard did to her, I would start a tickle war to literally snap her out of it. When she began to pick up the pieces of her life and went into grad school, I helped write her papers. I reacted violently to anyone who tried to hurt her.

No, I was nothing like my mother. And I was fine with that. I think that that allowed me to see and love her for what she really was. To relate to her as being more than my mother but as as woman who was spoiled but hilarious, cold but generous, beautiful but imperfect, naive but strong, vain but charming as hell. I think I was always aware of Velma's contradictions. For sure, I always loved them.

I knew her well. More than any daughter who only saw her mother. More than any child who only wanted a motherly-figure. She was Velma first and foremost. Everything else, including being a mother, was secondary. And I love her for that.

I'm in my 30's now. In the last few years, even before Velma died, my resemblance to my mother grew. My face has aged and sharpened, looking more like hers than Charles Bronson's. The bored expression that was constantly on her face is now more constant in mine.

But more importantly, I have realised that I inherited more than her face. I have her contradictions, too. I am beginning to accept that I have her flaws: vanity, insensitivity, self-involvement, perfectionism. But I know that I also have what was good about her: generousity, strength, sense of humour, charm.

But I am also well aware of where I differ from her. The parts of me that are all my own.

I wish that I could speak to Velma about this. For sure, had she been present, we would have had disagreements about our similarities and differences. I would have probably hurt her feelings (as I have in the past) with my assessment of her contradictions. She would have probably hurt mine, as well. But I know for sure that we would have ended that conversation as friends. The two of us always did manage to patch things up and never let hurt feelings fester.

In my head, there's a growing list of conversations I would like to have had with Velma. Conversations I know she would have enjoyed and loved.

This is one of them.

Butterflies, Molly and Michio Kaku

2008-11-17T10:53:48Z

It took a couple of Michio Kaku videos on youtube, a full night's rest, ranting to MS, JM, JK, SS, NP and other women, breakfast and a couple of ciggy breaks to finally calm down after watching "The Labyrinth of the Butterfly" last night. I was prepared for it because The Turtle told me about two years ago that the play (and the book that it was based on) totally dissed Michio Kaku.

Now, if you have any clue about me (or had at least traveled with me twice, or asked me about my favourite things in life), you would know that I would lose an arm to be Michio Kaku. And that I absolutely love his work. I owe this man for bringing physics back to me, who has made me feel less of a Failed Physicist-Wannabe. This man is one of a handful of theoretical physicists who have de-mystified phsyics and quantum mechanics for regular human beings. He is one of the few scientists who actually take a stand against nuclear weapons and war. He is one of the even fewer physicists who write about women physicists and the lack of such women in the world of physics. This is a man who may not necessarily be gender-sensitive or feminist, but is not a sexist.

This is how I've always perceived Michio Kaku, so I was absolutely gutted when last night's play painted him as a sexist loser who designed "Molly" the highly-sexualised female robot straight out of sexist geek fantasy. First things first, Kaku is a theoretical physicist. His life's work is the M-Theory (one of the major strands of the Theory of Everything, whom he also calls "The Mother of All Theories"). He is not an applied physics person. I can't imagine him building a robot at all. I've heard about photos of him and the robot he invented, Molly, who was a mechanical Angelina Jolie of sorts. I have never seen that photo of Molly.

Secondly, here's a clarification of how Kaku wrote about Molly the robot: 2020 Vision (the 4th article on the page). I have to rely on the internet for actual quotes at the moment, I don't have my bookshelf with me (I haven't had it in over a month, in fact). I have read Kaku writing about Molly before, but she had never struck me as a highly-sexualised mechanic representation of the dirtiest male fantasies (of a subservient woman with big tits). It's been a while since I revisited "Visions", Kaku's book around the future of science and tech where he talks about Molly, but I've always thought that Molly was kind of like the voice in your head that reminds you of things and makes your life easier and safer. Not necessarily the sex-bot that was acted out in last night's play. I think our own discomfort at male girl-robot fantasies were assigned to last night's Molly, which resulted in Kaku being totally villified. Which is unfair.

Lastly, I've been thinking about last night's Molly and some of the points that were raised about a year ago when I was doing a gender evaluation training for a software localisation project.

So Nepal, 2007. We were talking about the fact that in text-to-speech software (which was particularly useful for illiterate communities), the male voice was much easier to use. It has to do with the differences in the decibel and frequency ranges of women's and men's voices. According to the geeks, in Asia, we did not have the skills and capacity to work with a female voice in text-to-speech software (the skills are available in the US, they said). This results in the absence of (literally) female voices in software that is localised in Asia.

We, the gender advocates in that meeting, said that it was important for women users (especially those who were dealing with their own fears of tech) to be able to hear voices in their software that they can relate to. Simply put, there must be a way to have female voices in the localised text-to-speech software.

So back to Cape Town 2008. If the premise is that having female voices in technology is empowering to women, why then do we have a problem with female-looking /-sounding robots? Wouldn't such an entity be empowering to women as well? Wouldn't such a creature be something that we can relate to as women (as opposed to a male robot)?

Or is the problem we have with Molly the fact that she was presented as a thing that did household work? That she had big boobs last night? That she was highly-sexualised?

Or is the problem because Michio Kaku is male and he was represented as having created her? Is this a problem even if nothing of Kaku's work point to his sexism?

Would Molly and Michio have been saved from ridicule and mockery if they had switched sexes?

A Song from a Six-Year-Old

2008-10-29T11:58:30Z

Tali, the 6-year-old I was hanging out with in Johannesburg taught me this Barney song:
"I hate you, you
Let's go out and kill Barney,
With a baseball bat and a 4 x 4,
No more purple dinosaur."

(sung to the tune of that irritating Barney song)

This is possibly one of the most disturbing songs I've learned from a child. And that's saying plenty because I know a lot of special (read: weird, highly-intelligent, funny) kids.

Twenty Questions

2008-05-13T07:00:31Z

Tagged by maragtas.

1. What worries you?
      Lately, everything. But mostly the phone ringing.

2. Are you confused as to what lies ahead?
      You mean, there's more? Fuck.

3. Is there anything that made you unhappy recently?
      The better question is, what has not made me unhappy recently.

4. What did you last cry over?
    The crapiness of the latest Bleach episodes.

5. Have you ever dated someone?
    That's all I've seemed to do lately.

6. Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?
    Neither. Loving the fact that you're alone is best.

7. If the person you like doesn't accept you, would you continue to wait for them to change their feelings?
    No. Ano sya sineswerte?

8. If the person you like is secretly attached, what would you do?
    "Wishing and hoping and praying..." Or however that song goes.

9. What do you want most in life?
      Right now, a bakery in Batanes.

10. What's the most important thing you look for in a significant other?
       Funny.

11. Have you ever had your heart broken?
       Did the Grand Hitad ever exist?

12. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?
       Single and rich. Anyone who chooses the latter is an idiot.

13. Do you like someone right now?
       Trying very hard not to.

14. Do they like you too?
       I'd pay good money to know the answer to that... No wait! I'm trying not to like anyone... so I don't care!

15. If you fall in love with two persons simultaneously, who would you pick?
       The taller one.

16. What type of friends do you like?
       The ones I have now, thank you very much.

17. If you played a prank on someone, and she/he fell for the trick, what would you do?
       Document it and gloat for life.

18. If you were betrayed by someone, what would you say to that person?
        Humanda ka sa akin.

19. If the person tagging you likes/loves you, what will you do/say?
      Awww. Lagot ka kay Marby!

20. What do you think of the person who tagged you?
      One of the funniest, funnest people in the world. One of the weirdest, too. Peace, pao!

Tagging: jhybeturtle , binsoup , fairlycloudy on LJ. Tagging: Tin, Leng, Dang, Patrick on Multiply.

How to Create a Matte Lip

2008-05-11T05:40:54Z

One of the things I am very sure that I learned from Velma was how to matte lipstick. I was about 9 years old, and matte lipsticks were not so readily available then -- especially because the 1980's was all about glossy lips.

It's simple, she said. First, you apply lip balm, then you put on a thick layer of regular lipstick (in that instance, she was using some fire engine red lipstick). Then you take a sheet of tissue paper and blot your lips on it by putting the tissue in between your lips. Then you dust some powder on your lips. Then apply the lipstick again and blot your lips one more time.
This trick was designed to not only create a matte lip but to make sure that your lipstick stays on, she said.

And then she made me do as she instructed. I had no idea why she was teaching me all this, and I really would have preferred to mix lipstick and powder on a petri-dish in my makeshift "Lab" to put the concoction under my microscope than to see how a matte lip would look on me. And I think she saw that look on my face that told her that I thought nothing more of her than some ex-debutante / beauty queen / cheerleader type. So she put me in my place by telling me that I needed to learn how to matte my lips because my lips were too big to go glossy, and that I would be grateful for the knowledge she was giving me when I grew up.

Who could argue with that, right? So I ignored the jibe about the size of my lips and applied my first matte lip.

I have often wondered in the decades following that incident what made her get up from her bed and lead (read: command) me to her dresser for an impromptu make-up session. It's not like I was some girly-girl who would have bugged her for such Beauty Wisdom. Or maybe it was because I wasn't a girly-girl so she probably reckoned that she should volunteer the wisdom because I was too busy dreaming of white lab coats and robots to ask her -- or to even know the value of such questions.

Or perhaps it was simply unacceptable to her that one of her daughters would go on existing without knowing how to properly create a matte lip. That's a very Velma thing to think.

Velma may have forced her make-up and beauty tips on me at a young age. But she was the one who also bought me a toy Gatling Gun, a Spider-man arm and Swiss Army knives. She may have tried to raise me as the perfect corporate wife but she also never stopped me from taking Judo lessons. She may have stopped talking to me for a week after I came home with my first tattoo, but she was also the one who proudly brandished my daggered arm to her friends at work.

And I do think that all my contradictions, the inconsistencies that make me unique, I got that from her. Because I do know how to create a matte lip but I also know how to tell a Gatling Gun apart from a Hauser. Because she allowed me to learn both. To be both.

It's Mother's Day today. One of the few days in a year where I allow myself to miss her. So today, I will wallow in my memories of Velma. That's my way of celebrating today with her.

Szymborska on My Arm

2008-05-06T08:24:47Z

I've finally decided which Szymborska lines to commit to. There were too many to choose from. But her Travel Elegy just spoke to me last week, for some reason. So here goes:

And for those of you not fluent in Tattoo, it says:
Everything is mine but just on loan,
Nothing for the memory to hold,
Though mine for as long as I look.

It's there to remind of everywhere I've been, everyone I've known and every time I felt like the world was mine.

Peanut Butter vs. Plastic Bag Butter

2008-04-29T18:44:19Z

So a late night conversation with the Monkey Master. I was waxing (almost) lyrical about peanut butter and why it's one of the best things in the world. So the following (paraphrased) conversation ensues:

Monkey Master: We didn't have peanut butter when I was growing up.
c5: How tragic!
Monkey Master: The Communists deprived us of peanut butter. All peanut butter was horded in capitalist societies and we had none.
c5: I reckon you didn't grow peanuts locally.
Monkey Master: Yes. But we had walnuts and peas.
c5: Please don't tell me you had Pea Butter.
Monkey Master: No, we ate burned plastic imported from the West, spread on bread.
c5: That must have stuck to your teeth like a bitch.
Monkey King: We particularly liked those that came from the Philippines, they sometimes had a few atoms of peanut butter left in them.

It was at that point that I almost fell off my chair laughing. Hahahaha.

This may be the funniest conversation I will have this week. It would not be easy to top.

Desktop Meme

2008-04-24T18:20:09Z

Tagged by maragtas.

My current desktop:

A couch in Singapore.

Tagging: jhybeturtle, fairlycloudy eclair and binsoup :-)

Back from Slackerville

2008-04-24T06:05:18Z

<sigh> I miss Slackerville already.

Last week was spent slacking in Malaysia with the Polish Tourist, jhybeturtle and EM, where nothing was accomplished except:

finishing more than a carton of cigarettes
drinking flavoured, authentic Polish vodka
eating awesome meals
hanging out in random coffee shops
a trip to Melaka for Japanese tourist photo ops, pineapple tarts and Nyonya food
conversations that were good for my soul
familiarising myself with Kate Bush (and loving her Wuthering Heights)
hanging out with Kaffir and Kamus (the super cats)
laughing my ass off in huge amounts
sleeping at odd hours in the morning, and waking up late
losing hours to the Time Blackhole

Slackerville.

I think the appropriate word here is tambay. Something I have not done in long periods of time since the Weirdoks kinda grew up and became busy adults. Something I have not done in large amounts since Big Boy left for Perth. Something I have not done since my head caved in and sucked the life out of me.

A week in Slackerville.

I miss it already. But the thing is, knowing that Slackerville is a Limited Edition place and time makes it more special. Imagine living in Slackerville forever. Man, I would die! What about my To Do Lists? What about my goals? What about my need to account for every waking hour? What about the tension I maintain to hold everything together?

Spending the rest of my life in Slackerville will kill me.

But missing Slackerville is not about wanting to spend the rest of my life there. It's about remembering what happened there and cherishing the people you shared it with. And most importantly, it's making sure that you take the time out to visit Slackerville again -- and to not wait too long to do it again.

Pictures of Slackerville are on my Flickr page.

Bloodless Cut

2008-04-24T04:04:42Z

I nicked myself the other day,
A unique injury, barely
Exposing soft flesh without blood.
The knife was sharp,
But not enough to scar.

I secured the area,
Cleaned up the flesh,
Cut off the ragged edges,
Found the perfect bandage,
Contained the damage.

So now I wait,
It will take a while,
But the nail will grow,
Over exposed flesh,
'til it looks brand new,
The injury healed, hidden.
A secret between me and my finger.

Writer's Block: Here's the Skinny...

2008-04-20T11:02:28Z

Have you ever been skinny dipping?

<input ... > View other answers

Yes. A few times. The most memorable one was in the Black Sea in Varna, Bulgaria. Mostly because we had to hide from overly-eager security guards. Didn't stop us from doing it for a few nights though...

I reckon everyone should swim naked all the time. Because it's one of the best feelings in the world.

The Filipina Paragon (Part 2)

2008-04-08T16:49:04Z

I'm procrastinating again. I have a few documents that need some work before I head out to hang out with friends in Malaysia next week. But I'm kinda stuck. So I checked the blog, which I haven't seen in over three weeks. And then I see this from angelicsmile:

Thank you for your opinion. If you read the stories provided by the Filipinas around the world, you will see the Filipina activist, the Filipina mail order bride, the Filipina working against domestic violence, the Filipina daughter, the foreigner hurt by his Filipina girlfriend, the Filipina mom, the Filipina daughter and so much more. We show hundreds of stories both positive and negative.

FilipinaImages.com is a collaborative effort of all the bloggers who believe that the The Filipina of the Future deserves a more empowered, diverse image online. Multiple, complex, and whole. " We are not out to change the Filipina perception but to balance the search engine results of Filipina websites. It's that simple.

I hope you take the time to read their stories.

Which is pretty cool. I generally blog for myself, and I don't really expect anyone other than my friends to comment. So receiving a stranger's comment, and a dissenting one at that, is good.

And the comment is fair enough.

I have to admit, when I wrote the The Filipina Paragon (Part 1), I was knee-jerk-reacting to a site that seemed to be trying so hard to improve the Filipina image -- with images that make me cringe. So I went back to the Filipina Images site to give it another go.

One of the things that are currently featured on the site were the WikiPilipinas Filipina Stories, a contest of one-shot blog entries on the modern Filipina. So I went to the winners of this contest as a starting point. Let it not be said that I am not willing to have my mind changed (ADHD kind of dictates that I do that at least once every thirty minutes, anyway). So here we go:

The winning entry was titled, The Filipina Doctor: Coming Full Circle, which expounds on the evolution of the Filipina healer from the pre-colonial babaylan to the Western doctor that she is now. It nods to ground-breaking Filipinas in the medical field. And it was a nice trip down the history of women in the medical field.

The entry the placed second was called, The Evolving Beauty of the Modern Filipina. The metaphor the blogger used was that of beauty products -- how beauty products have evolved from sabila to an entire fruit cocktail of products, and how that evolution was very much like that of The Filipina (the modern Filipina is as well-developed as the current beauty products out in the market)... And the blogger also compared his effort to define the Filipina to a reader analysing a book., failing to realise that a woman is not the freakin' book, she's the freakin' author. Not objects or subjects, but creators of that so-called evolution... And don't get me started on how the history of the modern woman is compared to the history of beauty products... How the heck did that entry get second place?

The third place entry, the Cyber Feminisation of Poverty: Mail Order Brides and the Image of the Filipina, should have won. The title was not a faked intellectual one. It actually cohesively looks at how the Internet has exacerbated the Mail Order Bride Dilemma (it sites sources and all that). It was well-written and the fact that the blogger didn't go all "We're Filipinas, we're so awesome" was pretty cool. It was the most intelligent one out of all of them. My only problem with it was that the blogger posted pictures of women from mail order bride sites. What about their privacy, eh?

All in all, I was pretty pleased that the comment from angelicsmile prompted me to go back and read those blog entries.

But here's the thing. The objective of the Filipina Images site is to revamp the image of The Filipina from an exoticised Mail Order Bride to that of one that is empowered and not-a-hoe. Good for them! But I still have an issue with who the subject of all of this is: Filipina Mail-Order Brides; Filipinas who go to these dating sites so they can bag a foreigner.

To me, it reeks of self-righteousness.
Let's all change the image of the Filipina into something more like us because we have careers and families and jobs and empowerment. Let's not let those Mail Order Brides ruin our image.

The whole thing speaks to a foreign audience.

Look! Filipinas are more than Mail Order Brides, we are empowered! Please change your minds about us!

I can't help but hear that underneath the pretty words.

I can't help but think that what this is doing is further alienating those women who think the Mail Order Bride thing is the only way out of their miserable lives. Further making them into objects of pity / scorn / analysis as we middle-class, empowered few sit in front of our machines and try to tell the world that we are not them.

_____

I'm not done. When I have free time, I will go back to that site and read some more.

But for now it's back to those concept briefs.

The Filipina Paragon (part 1)

2008-03-14T02:05:43Z

I seem to be on a roll here.

I blame being stuck in the middle of nowhere, in a place with no pool table. I blame running out of Bleach episodes to watch. I blame the fact that the internet is the only entertainment and distraction right now. I blame the low yellow lights at night here that don't allow me to go back to Briane Green and Fydor Dostoevsky...

Anyway.

I stumbled upon this online community and campaign: Filipina Images.

I don't know. I don't know... On one hand, I'm glad such a thing exists. I'm glad that these women have banded together to combat negative images of Filipinas online. So good on them for doing that...

But then I saw how they defined 'Filipina' and nearly hurled:

    A smile.
    A mother breastfeeding her child.
    An excellent homemaker.
    A powerful leader and mentor in her chosen business, profession or vocation.
    Another smile, inviting you to meet her family and firends.
    A friend who’s there for you, no matter what.
    Ah, I’ve never met a Filipina — but I’d like to.
    An influential, affluent decision maker.
    A woman, confident and willing to go an extra mile to get things done.
    A woman I can trust to take care of my kids.
    A sexy woman.
    A mystery?
    A girl, shy and innocent.
    A fun-loving woman.
    A beautiful person, inside and out.

The Filipina as the ideal woman -- caring but strong, motherly but sexy. Is this another way of selling Filipinas online? Is this a strategy to shift the market for Filipinas from Sleazoids with Asian Fetishes to Marrying Men with Notions of the Perfect Asian Wife?

Because this description of Filipinas does not change any stereotypes about us. In this site, the Filipina is the paragon of perfection, who despite her power and strength will still be the great friend and the best homemaker, and despite her innocence is a sexy woman. Isn't this why men come in droves for sex tourism in the Philippines? Isn't this why the Mail Order Bride enterprise is still flourishing? Because they think that Filipinas are exactly that -- modern enough to fuck them but traditional enough to be submissive.

Check this out. The dude running the Filipina101 site, who's trying to encourage other men to marry Filipinas says:

Filipinas are not the docile and submissive women so often depicted in the stereotypical "Mail Order Bride" misconception that is as insulting to you as it is to her. However, they are looking for a man who acts like a man and treats them like a lady. This “old fashioned” approach to roles in relationships is built on mutual respect. Many men prefer this more traditional relationship to the so called egalitarian model demanded by more “liberated” western women.

And the site, Filipinawives has this to say:

Filipinas are the greatest wives on earth! Any man who doesn’t marry a Filipina is making a big mistake! They are all beautiful, loving girls who want nothing more in life than to please their husbands. All of them are virgins until married – sex before marriage is absolutely unheard of! Still, once you’re married, all Filipinas instantly become sexual dynamos who have insatiable appetites for sex in any form. But only with you, of course. Filipinas never cheat, and the idea of divorce is utterly alien to them.

Think about it. All three sites define 'Filipina' positively. All three sites kind of define 'Filipina' the same way. The difference is that the last two sites are bordeline Mail Order Bride sites (I refuse to provide their links here because I don't want their Google-bility to go up), and the first one aims to improve the image of Filipinas and actually tries to fight the Mail Order Bride stereotype.

And yet, they both support the idea of The Filipina as the stereotypical perfect woman.

And it pisses me off.

________

I'm not done. I have more to say about this. But this entry has gone on for too long.

I'll be back.

Tat #11

2008-03-13T01:24:53Z

I had this done on 1 March 2008. Designed by Pa3k. Inked by Jake the Man.

So 11 tattoos to date. And counting.

And So She Does It Again

2008-03-12T16:39:08Z

Malu Fernandez does it again.

Sometime in June 2007, she wrote an article on the magazine People Asia called, "From Boracay to Greece". The article was about her trip to Greece. As if the article's tacky name-dropping and brand-whoring was not obnoxious enough, the silly woman proceeds to bash Overseas Filipino Workers in the more below-the-belt way. She talks about hating being mistaken for a maid. She talks about how bad it was to be in economy class because her authentic expensive perfume was being overpowered by the cheap ones that the OFWs were wearing. She wrote that she wanted to slash her wrists because she was trapped in economy class with the OFWs.

It was elitism at its worst. At its tacky, cringing I-can't-believe-all-the-money-you-claim-to-have-didn't-buy-you-some-actual-class worst.

Needless to say, the OFW community (and they are a force to be reckoned with, believe me you) did not let her get away with it. By August 2007, the poor, stupid woman had been lambasted for everything -- from her elitism to her looks. The outrage from the OFW community was so strong that she was forced to write a public apology and quit her job.

You'd think she would have learned her lesson by now.

Oh well. You can train an old dog new tricks, so they say. I say, no amount of money in the world can buy a stupid person a brain.

This time, she's gunning after bloggers. In her recent article in the Manila Standard, "The Problem with Blogging...", she applies her elitist standards to blogging. She basically says that bloggers (the regular ones, not the ones who are popular enough to feed themselves through their blogs) are slackers and losers who do not understand the 'code of ethics that govern freedom of speech'.

It's pretty hilarious to read someone who uses her mighty journalist pen simply to show everyone how famous and rich she is talk about journalism ethics. This is a 'journalist' who talks of nothing else but herself -- her fabulous life, her super sosyal friends, her high fashion items, and just how wonderfully elite she is. It's extra funny that she attacks a medium that allows regular people (who don't have newspaper columns or the connections to have one) to be as self-centred as she is.

She talks about how anonymity affords bloggers freedom from accountability -- which is true enough. But tell that to the bloggers in Egypt and Malaysia who have been arrested by their own governments because of their blogs.

(Yeah, and my Inner Bitch reckons that all that talk about 'code of ethics' really is just about Anonymous Blogger Envy. I bet she wished she was anonymous when the OFWs wrote letters and petitions against her and campaigned to boycott her clothing brand, Tubby.)

And then, she goes much, much further than that. In that recent article, she goes on to say that blogging reflects the Filipino culture of back-stabbing. She tries to be smart by connecting that attitude to Spanish colonisation, which she critcises. But then she turns around and attacks someone for looking like an Indio* -- in the same freaking paragraph!

Then she shifts gears and rants against anyone involved in ousting the current Philippine President. She compares that particular movement to someone who bought a green Hermes bag and wished they got the black on instead.

And then she ends with anonymous blogging again (which really proves my Anonymous Blogger Envy Theory). She ends, of course, with herself and how great she is that she's the kind of person who refuses to start World War 3 (man, Global Warming, religious fundamentalism and conservative politics will start WW3, not someone whose only talent in life is constructing grammatically-correct sentences. Talk about thinking highly of one's self), and that she would rather be in-your-face when she's being brutal.

My question really is: Why is someone like that being paid to actually publish her thoughts?

I'm all for freedom of speech but does she really need to get paid to exercise hers?

________

Indio is the derogatory term used by the Spanish colonisers for the non-caucasian people in the country. It's a racist term to the Nth degree.

Writer's Block: The Things We Carry

2008-03-12T14:25:17Z

So LJ has thing to help unblock their bloggers. Each day (I think) they ask a question that's supposed to get you drooling to write.

I hope it works.

-----

Today's question is: What do you always carry with you?

Cigarettes, man. Cigarettes.

When I run out of cigarettes or forget them at home, I panic. So I always carry at least 2 packs with me. You know, just in case I get stuck in the middle of a desert island on my way to the grocery. Or some asshole on the street tells me that he thinks I've got a huge pussy -- I would need a lit cigarette to flick at his face. Then I would need another one just to relax and get my Zen back.

A few years back, in KL with a bunch of friends, watching Harold and Kumar Go to the White Castle. Just as Kumar was picking up a hitchhiking Doogie Hawser, the building started to shake. After the initial panic of realising that it was shaking not because we were high out of our asses, we grabbed our things and headed down 7 floors, across the parking lot and into open space. While my friends grabbed their bags and their laptops, I got my ciggies and my lighter. Hell, if I was going to be crushed by Malaysian debris, I wasn't going to be sending anyone email, but I sure as hell would need a freaking fag.

And yeah, if that's not proof that ciggies are not the thing always carry with me, I don't know what is.

____

I think the Writer's Block thing helped. But I'm still waiting for my groove back.

Panic Before 4pm

2008-01-18T08:20:02Z

Another day, another explosion. Welcome to the Philippines.

This time it's in Subic. And it's a gas leak. 2 dead, 2 critical. That's all the news said.

A panicked 15 minutes of scrambling to reach an aunt who traveled to Subic yesterday. Horrifying images running through my head of Losing Yet Another Loved One. The heart-rate-slowing pills stopped working.

But she's fine. So I'm fine. Heart rate's still pretty fast but at least I've stopped hyperventilating. Phew.

My Domineering Thyroid and My Tired Heart

2008-01-18T07:27:30Z

I may have found my Inner Dominatrix. And it's called the Thyroid Gland.

It's super bossy and it's been telling all my other organs to work hard. Harder than what they're used to. To toxic levels. My thyroid gland is so domineering, the Pituitary Gland, which is supposed to be the Thyroid Gland's supervisor, has taken a temporary leave of absence because the Thyroid Gland has been bullying it with toxic hormones.

And my poor Heart. The Thyroid Gland has been overworking everything inside so much that my heart has been working over time to get everything done. It needs to slow done. It's tired (slapandpop says that's true literally and figuratively).

Now I'm putting a stop to the Reign of the Thyroid Gland. I'm making it behave to give my body a break. I have to show this domineering busybody that it is not the boss of me. I will drug it to submission. Hopefully, my efforts (and the doc's prescription) work.

Superheroine Comicbook Contest

2008-01-11T04:51:59Z

My ultimate source for geek-ery in the comic book world (you know who you are!) sent me a link to this announcement this morning:

WHO WANTS TO CREATE A SUPER-HEROINE?

Most contests in the comic book business are geared toward artists. Shadowline is bucking the tide and creating a contest geared toward writers!

According to Shadowline editor, Kristen Simon, “I’d been hoping to see a super-hero book with a strong female lead to act as a counter-point to our popular Bomb Queen series, but none were forthcoming. So I decided to come up with a contest to create a super-heroine for the 21st Century.”

The character will be 100% creator-owned as all Image and Shadowline books are (Trademark and copyright to be shared by writer and artist). The winning entry will be featured in their own self-titled three issue mini-series to be drawn by fan-favorite artist, Franchesco! (She-Dragon, Green Lantern Corps Quarterly) and back-end profits will be split between the creators.

Contest regulations are listed below. Neither Image nor Shadowline can or will be responsible for synchronicity (similar ideas appearing at the same time).

No feedback will be provided on submissions, just a confirmation of receipt.

Contest will be divided into three parts as outlined below, deviation will result in immediate disqualification:

Round One:
Contestants e-mail a BRIEF one paragraph story synopsis by January 31, 2008 to: superheroinecontest@gmail.com. Stories/concept must be original with original characters. No pre-existing characters may be used unless owned by contestant.

Round Two:
Ten semi-finalists will be chosen from all entries received by the above date and notified by e-mail. They will then be required to turn in 5 (five) fully scripted pages by February 29, 2008.

Round Three:
The five finalists will be announced and their synopses published on March 10. Readers will be encouraged to vote on their favorite. (Writers are strongly advised to direct traffic to the contest via message boards, myspace, etc…every vote counts!) Polls will close on April 4, 2008.

The winner will be announced April 28 with initial concept art/character design by Franchesco. First issue will be solicited with a cover date of November, 2008.

_______________

I think I may join. I think.

Fairly Cloudy Says...

2008-01-10T05:19:22Z

fairlycloudy tells me at our smoke break after the Gross lecture: "I just realised that you're a megalomaniac!"

And I say: "Huh?"

She says: "When he said that 'Everything is physics' that got you excited. So I realised that the reason why you're so into physics is because it makes you understand everything. That's megalomaniac.

And I say: "Yeah, and control everything. Be thankful I'm not a physicist -- or a world leader."

I think that's how the conversation went.

(Thanks, fairlycloudy and Sputing for getting me invites to the event!)

Limitations in Quantum Mechanics (Not as Nerdy as It Sounds!)

2008-01-09T07:47:37Z

I think there's a weird gene in my system that gives me goosebumps whenever I'm in the same room as an honest-to-goodness, dedicated-his-life-to-theoretical-physics physicist. I couldn't help it, as soon as they introduced David Jonathan Gross this morning as a Physicist, I wanted to stand up and clap (which I did). I think this is the flip side of envy. Admiration? Perhaps. But tinged with thoughts running through my head at the speed of light on what could have been and the Dream that was never pursued.

But there's reason to be impressed. Gross is a pretty accomplished physicist. Won the Nobel Laureate for Physics in 2004 for his work on quarks and strong nuclear force which led to the discovery of the asymptomic freedom phenomenon, which further led to a new physical theory of quantum chromodynamics (QCD). This theory contributes to the quest for the Theory of Everything.

So I stashed my Skepticism in my bag and prepared to be dazzled.

And I was. Hearing a Theoretical Physicist confirm how I understood quantum mechanics, having a hardcore scientist like that talking about the provisional truths, about the need for an open and available scientific community, and how Science naturally leads to tolerant and open-minded perspectives, was pretty awesome. I lapped it up like the nerd that I am.

I suppose his being a Theoretical Physicist had a lot to do with that. The importance of perspective, the theory of relativity, the acknowledgment of how the very act of observing an event changes the event (and its results) -- these are tenets of quantum mechanics. The very reason why I fell in love with it in the the first place. It was great to hear someone who understood and lived all that.

I have no doubt that this dude is a great physicist (anyone who studies quarks, and talks about quantum vacuum like it's a nice place to visit is hardcore) but when it came to him relating physics to social issues, to development, to global warming, he lost me. At that point, Skepticism left my bag and the goosebumps disappeared.

He talks about a World Government like it was strong nuclear force (not talking bombs here) -- able to keep quarks in line and within a proton according to the laws of asymptotic freedom. As much as he believes in the existence of natural laws that have yet to be fully understood, discovered and comprehended, he believes that the existence of a universal (even pan-galactic) government to make the world behave is inevitable and good. He is positive that the development and discoveries of Science in the last century will lead to a world where rationality and logic would rule.

He talks about the advances in the study of the human brain and its neurons; he is quite excited by the results of understanding the human brain even further perhaps towards eliminating crazy human thoughts and reactions, making it easier to control nature.

He talks about how Science has extended life expectancy and how it's probable that in the next 50 years, Science (genetic studies, in particular) would extend it further. He speaks of the how the future may bring Speciation within the human race -- how through genetic manipulation, there will be other human species.

Midway through it, I realised that this is why I'm not a Theoretical Physicist.

I don't have the kind of idealism such a life would require -- the belief that observation and experimentation would bring explanations and answers that can be articulated in an elegant mathematical formula.
And I don't have the kind of discipline required to smash atoms and observe how they behave and then do it all over again until patterns and theories are formed.
And at the mention of the words "world government", I immediately thought: whose government? how will women participate in it? whose culture will reign supreme? whose laws will rule the world? whose beliefs?
And the thought of being able to figure out how the human brain works scares me. I like the mysteries of my insanity just fine.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I think I've finally come to terms with that Failed Physicist-Wannabe Fantasy. Not that I'd stop reading quantum mechanics books. Not that I would ever stop being in awe of hardcore theoretical physicists. Not that I would stop entertaining the idea of stalking Michio Kaku and Brian Greene.

But I think I've learned my limits.

One Down, One More to Go

2007-12-26T15:32:23Z

So Christmas Day is over.

It was a nice day. The family celebration started at around 10pm on the 24th, had a six-hour sleep break, then went on 'til 10pm on the 25th. The food was absolutely amazing and the people were pretty cool. For the first time in years, all four of my siblings were there. And, the aunts did not have any squabbles. I got pretty awesome gifts: a custom-made cue stick from Ate; my favourite perfume from DJ; clothes...

But I received my best gift this Xmas during the six-hour break.

I couldn't sleep that night (and if I were to be honest with myself, it's mostly because it's this season that I miss Velma the most and that generally keeps me up at night). So I got online, checked my Facebook, made some moves on Scrabulous, and POPed my email. I got a letter from My Ultimate Favourite Comic Book Graphic Artist* (it was Jeph Loeb 'til I saw this guy's work)! I had written to him a few days back, asking if he could design a tattoo for me. And on that email, he said "yes"! I swear I was hoping around on my bed for a full 5 minutes. Then I called Pa3k and screamed the news to him. This was at 3:30 in the morning.

I'm still reeling over that.

______
* I won't write his name because it would be awful if he suddenly got people inundating him with tattoo requests.

White Corridors

2007-12-21T21:52:45Z

I saw this picture today.

And remembered the day I took it.

There are stories about the white corridors at the point of death. Of corridors leading to The Light that we're all supposed to head for. But this particular white corridor was not for the dying, not for their last breaths, not for him. It's for the ones holding their breaths. It's for those hoping to stall death.

And on that day, in this white corridor, we held our breaths for 12 hours. Then he breathed his last.

I took this picture to remind me of that day. To remind me of him.