spamalot, the world’s largest coconut orchestra lived to broadway’s expectation. gay. but it is the happy kind of gay, compared to rent. xanadu, which i haven’t seen and don’t plan to, maybe takes the cake when it comes to gayness. for wicked, that much hyped book adaptation, we shall see. august is the schedule although a last minute lottery at the door is tempting. but no, EQ prevails lest the wife boots me back to manila. hehehe.
because the best part of the indiana jones movie was the dark knight trailer, i got myself a couple of books. the first one was jeanette winterson’s *the stone gods* while the other was nick hornby’s *how to be good*. the first, i’ve always wanted to buy while the second was by pure impulse. after having just finished *gone bamboo* i don’t really know what to pick up. winterson? i have read a book of hers long ago, *written on the body,* what attracted me to this new book was its premise which leans towards a sci-fi mold. it’s always a surprise when literary (because there is no other term) authors tries this. think kazuo ishiguro who wrote *the remains of the day* but gave us *when we were orphans*. that kind of surprise. as for the nick hornby, i’m just curious after seeing in film two of his books. we shall see.
note: finding *the stone gods* at the strand kiosk at central park made me forgot to snap a pic. hence, the apple store, diagonally opposite the kiosk.
one of those rare times when the weekend meant a thursday and monday holiday so it was a long weekend indeed. saturday, i think, was the day summer was officially declared with the beaches finally been opened (one dude from the apartment wrestled a surfboard into his 4×4 while in his suit and tie on wednesday AM). while we didn’t go near any beaches (coney island is happening in june, freakshow and barbecue, here i come), we explored the west side of the island in search of sunset. at the upper part, the view was monopolized by a mexican bar full of dog-friendly people getting drunk at 4 peyem. noisy, rowdy, the smell and smoke of sizzling barbecue permeates the air. must be a college dive as i saw a forlorn piece of black lace panties on the floor (the perv in me scanned the crowd for peeps in spring dress seating atop a guy to no luck). the next day, i introduced to the wife the idea of getting lost (always the best way to find second hand bookstores and the literally hole in the wall peeping galleries, told you i am a perv). so we decided to get lost some more taking the metrocard and some cash with total disregard for maps (not even on the iPhone and the train stations). wound up at the west, lower side, at the meatpacking district. saw the saatchi and saatchi building, yes building. a lot of sk8er bois showing off and goth girls waitressing bars. saw a photoshoot in one of the inner streets. the sunset view was better, no monopoly and there were a lot of chairs as it was a park. clean restrooms too. snap snap of the digicam until the battery drains out and when we returned, we ourselves, were drained as well.
the intelligence that gave us the microwave and nuclear power also gives us a lame excuse to put a septuagenarian back in the jungle where instead of simian brain sushi, the squirm factor is left to a single snake and a gazillion of ants.
this week is fleet week when navy boys (literally teens who are earning some college money or some such reason) roam the city in uniform. all the better to stand out from the crowd and project the rhyming words of *seamen* and *semen* (randomly saw the sex and the city episode, rerun of course). even patriotic bars offer happy hours all night to our friends from the fleet. i managed to snap a few shots at times square. from afar of course.
one of the ways to take back what stress has taken away is to read a book whenever it feels like it is a good time to read one. and now i’m making good my promise of going beyond my comfort zone (exploring books outside of horror and its incestuous cousins but drawing the line on chick lit).
as a background: this has its origin in college when i have *the rhyme of the ancient mariner* for breakfast, *gone with the wind* for lunch and *dubliners* for dessert (at least *finnegan’s wake* wasn’t required reading). dessert and snacks are free for all. the experience was courtesy of the most useless course in the world, bachelor of arts, major in english. while i cringe – and still do – at the mention of those words, most of my classmates would relish how it rolls out the tongue back then. these are the same one who are now manning the banks as tellers. or as sales rep of travel agencies. with that in perspective, imagine the liberation that poppy z. brite brought. and then i was seduced into the dark side, enjoying its dark delicacies. not only was my reading focused, it also save a lot of energy, not to mention time and money (same principle with shirts – i go to a store and get out if there’s nothing black there).
so i spent last night until around 3.15 in the ayem reading something pop, jonathan lethem’s *you don’t love me yet*. while i would rather read something of the edgar allan poe variety at this kind of hour, it was good nonetheless. the beer also helped, too.
right.
onwards with dogwalking, bravely.
joy stayed home for the day, doing whatever needs to be done through her phone and laptop. that called for something soupy and shrimpy thus the sinigang na hipon. pardon the photography and the foodstyling or its lack of. later, we will take a walk in the park for some cardio and booze money before i cook menudo.
the school around seven buildings up is holding a school fair/fund raising event complete with games, DJ’s booth and food stalls. took some pics to document this as all traces will disappear come 5 peyem. all the noise and ruckus is better than the sound of sirens and horns. had i not cooked my lunch, i would have sampled a chinese takeout with a fortune cookie. but there’s always the cotton candy for dessert. on the thrift shop at the end of the block, managed to score anthony bourdain’s *gone bamboo* his first fiction and POD’s latest outing, *when angels and serpents dance* at a dollar each. not a bad way to start the week. now, if only the sun will keep shining.
time to walk the dog and work the heart.
krakendamet! another early friday. 3.03 ayem to be exact. and all of gotham’s angels are having a pissing contest. walking the dog and doing cardio makes it a fucking job and a chore.
speaking of which, if i have a job, today would be a payday. i miss checking my account balance. but i don’t miss the stress of going to the office. some things just don’t rhyme.
of the seven applications i sent out, three replied. tbwa ny which made it clear that it was not a rejection letter but there are no openings. strawberryfrog which stated that there are no positions in the creative department but would keep my name and number on file for freelance gigs. and today, taxi ny replied. it was with a name and she apologized for the late correspondence but have given my CV and folio weblink to a CD and would email again for any feedback. at least there is a name plus i know that somebody will see my work. so we shall see. also sent out my CV to barnes&noble corporate plus GAP inc – as communications director or such position. channelling an asshole in another blog might just come true.
right.
time for beer and a bath – the kind that is on a tub – before pizza and movie night. if i still smoke, now would be a good time, too.
snapped this sign at a starbucks outlet. all restos have different versions of the same message. some even have this sign: occupancy by more than (insert number here) is dangerous and illegal. i wish they would just print the state building code. somehow i get the feeling that somebody got sued big time because due to one’s ignorance of the heimlich maneuver, babel being litigation country after all. everywhere you look, there are notices. like, to anonymously report unsafe working conditions, please call…(construction sites). or, if you see something, say something. don’t keep things to yourself. if you suspect something or someone is dangerous, report it to the police (all public transpo). nothing beats my personal favorite, surveillance camera is being used in this area (some public areas – goodbye to covert ops). given that, i’m still waiting for this sign: police in plainclothes are deployed at this park/street/building.
yet another proof of babeldom.
made in china seems to be everywhere. including in the food we eat as delivered by our chicano brothers. and the humor we consume as purveyed by the onion (america’s finest news source, TM). and the sports we devour as streamed by ESPN.
so this is a refreshing sight. even joy’s local officemates are awed and given hope by this presence. a simple manhole to remind everyone that the president of the US of A is not someone named lee.
made in india. from the world’s number 1 billionaire to the softest of cotton shirts from levi’s strauss to picasso’s *i no longer know how to draw* art. always metal.
this human taxi, as what the driver calls it, is one of the first things i saw at babel. where i come from, this is a nuisance as they clog even the smallest alleys. here, it is a tourist trap rivaling horse-drawn carriages. they ply the busiest street like times aquare and the usual attractions like central park and the museum mile. while walking the dog today and earning some booze money, i chatted with one of the dudes who complained that he’s still at zero dollars despite the hour – 2 o’clock in the peyem. and it was only his second day at work. the chit chat was worth it, i got a few seconds of rest and enjoyed a free joke (comedy club entrance fees are anything but funny, they really take comedy seriously here).
driver: (to passersby) do you want a ride?
peeps: (smiling) thanks. we wanna burn off some calories.
driver: (smiling) well, you can drive this with me as passenger and i’ll charge the same.
picasso will always be on top of the list, but this painting stopped me, grabbed me, and in the creative’s admiration cliche of *i wish i had done that* really put me into thinking. while all the other paintings were posed portraitures of saints and royalty, here we have a snapshot that tells a story. and done centuries ago before verbroegen, serpa, and sucharittanonta. of course, painters and art directors are apple and oranges but still. the wifey said it is the gore that attracts me, so who am i to argue.
title: salome with the head of saint john the baptist
painter: andrea solario
medium: oil on wood
haven’t seen the naked cowboy, but have seen this. he preaches on sundays, how appropriate. i wonder what our narrow-minded bishops might say – especially that despicable one who uttered the most bigoted statement about the cebu hospital incident.
earlier this week, NIN gave for free an entire album, upping one notch radiohead’s effort of pay what you want. this effort got radiohead into time’s 100 most influential. but what NIN did is, i think, more influential, making the net the medium that it is supposed to be in the first place – a medium where everything can be had for free. this is really exciting as i’ve bought all NIN albums before. imagine if every album being produced starting today can be downloaded for free in the future. if that’s hard to believe, imagine paying to watch every episode on local tv or every song on radio. plus, i can’t help thinking how marketing and advertising people will react once this sinks in – that the net is now a mainstream medium like any other. the term new media is so yesterday. i wonder how lars ulrich of *copyright metallica* will have their next album released.
speaking of free, books for free download are beginning to pop all over the net, thanks to creative commons. also with the same reasoning as the records: use the net as a promotional medium. once such kick ass books that can be had for free off the cyber shelves is *little brother* by cory doctorow. i guess it worked, although on the reverse. i bought first the book before checking out the site (thanks to dogwalking money). it did kick my ass, finishing it in half a day.
because hollywood suits are fond of demanding a synoptic sentence from creatives for every movie ever witten, optioned, rewritten, shelved, re-rewritten, produced and finally marketed, here’s the last end of the deal. a review. in one sentence.
ironman: an industrialist finds his true calling as a crime-fighting superhero, builds an iron suit making him take off and land like a queer with hands palms down with true ballerina grace.
as i watched this movie with risk managers, i miss the geekery of my friends. you know who you are.
these are the same ones who peer pressured me into watching maid of honor, which i will also do my trademarked, registered, patented and copyrighted review: art mirrors life in this unlaughable comedy where a scot is shamed by two friends who have been mutually masturbating each other since college just because he is a duke, owns a winery and first and foremost, a scot.
everyone is into reading in this city. while it is a must on the subway as to avoid any eye contact (as iPods can only cover the ears and not the eyes), the amount of readers i see just about everywhere makes this myopic if not judgmental view, shameful. everyone carries, reads, buys, donates, exchanges and writes a book. the last one is just a as true as the rest. every bookstore has a section of books about the city, whether fiction or not. i think the number even equals that of the films about this babel.
a gazillion of books and no income except for my dogwalking…that’s like going to a wine cellar and being able to afford a glass of water. there’s the strand (at least 25% off the list price) and a thrift shop seven houses away ($2.00 a paperback) but still…thankfully there’s the public library which the city takes seriously. books and music and DVDs. and since this is babel, in different languages too.
so, for the first time since college, i’ve got myself a library card. it’s time to go back exploring words and worlds outside of sci-fi/fantasy/horror/punk/slipstream and other writings of similar molds. did i hear the word nerd between coughs?
while the neighborhood abounds with all sorts of cuisine from chinese to greek to korean to italian and the average american diners i only see before in movies and the ever inviting irish pubs also only seen before in flicks, the filipino tongue sometimes calls for pinoy food. this is not unlike the urge of bruce banner before he turns into the incredible hulk. only it is an incredible appetite.
of course the first resort (as with everything else) is the internet, menupages.com, in the hope of a delivery. (this dependence on the internet deserves another post altogether.) sadly, the pinoy restaurants are miles away giving me no option but to cook.
all the ingredients are sourced from either chinatown or at the asian community in queens where both locations have bagoong and itlog na maalat and the unofficial consumer price index of the philippines, galongong, but no san miguel beer. of course i will only find this out after paying for the grocery as alcohol and tobacco are always on a separate isle mostly on the way out. the wifey would see the look on my face and would gladly give the seal of approval for a case* of stella artois, tsingtao, or singha, whichever feels like a good substitute. these aforementioned beers are less crappy than bottled american piss called coors or bud.
back to the cooking.
my very first dish was, what else but adobo. every single morsel of rice was consumed and all of us (joy and her pinoy officemates which would total to about six plus me) would swear to forego carbo with the looming spring. a fruit diet was suggested and our version of the biggest loser was proposed.
spring is now full blown and summer is nigh and what happened can be summed in one word. in gayspeak: asafayou.
dishes cooked so far:
• chicken curry
• gg with tausi sauce
• adobong chicken liver (this i didn’t even taste due to its high uric acid content)
• bistek tagalog
• bicol express (flooded the building with the aroma of bagoong but nobody complained)
• sinigang na baboy
• garlic mushroom
• sinigang sa miso
• pork chop
• ampalaya with egg
• pork giniling
• plus fried breakfast favorites: spam, bacon, eggs, corned beef, french toast (to all those planning to visit, these breakfast fare is waiting plus the promised bed).
later, i will be attempting curried shrimp, thai style, complete with shallots and cilantro. that’s right, we have no weighing scale in the bathroom.
time to walk the dog and earn the almighty dollar.
*the culture of tingi is also present here except that it promotes the reverse. to explain: a can of coke costs $1.50 at the deli, $3.00 at the park, but a dozen can be had for $3.00 at the grocery. go figure. it’s either you buy a lot and save a lot or buy one and waste money. thus the case of beer. it costs around $6.00 per bottle at a bar, but for the whole case, $11.00. either they’re bad at math, or they really just want to make you spend more. or both.
