mommy, i wanna go home!

we went to jersey for the long holiday (i don’t understand why they call the celebration of the rape of the land of the american indians “thanksgiving”. and while we’re at it, why did pocahontas and co. not make a scene? at least we have lapu-lapu who circumcised the neck of the spaniard who almost circumnavigated the globe).

the peeps were joy’s batchmates from e&y manila in jersey assigned to e&y philadelpia. beer, vodka, and food. to the tune of dinuguan at puto, crabs, fried chicken, tokneneng, kilawing tuna, pancit, bistek, sinigang na salmon, bbq, inihaw na liempo. leche flan and cassava cake for dessert. i devoured them all and still have the space for the philly cheesesteaks from the two stores that are literally competing against each other.

the usual laid back long weekend with booze and stories and gripe. the gripes were mostly about the emperor of this great empire, the king of rhetoric and nothing more (there are now anti-o buttons in central park, if we are feeling this disappointed, how much more the locals). they are already settled on the life maybe because of the jersey atmosphere and the jersey cost of living. they are really worried as to what the future may bring, with kids and cars and all. me, i just hated new york and all its artifice and its con all the more. blinding lights indeed. i can’t wait to go home where there’s real beer and real smiles and real problems.

winter snuck up on us and it was freezing when we grabbed some famed cheesesteaks after a mini tour of downtown philly – benjamin franklin’s grave, the liberty bell, a real quaker meeting hall. the whole touristy shit. at least the cheesesteaks where superb. this alone made the weather warmer.

pat’s. for me this is the real deal. brimming beef slices and better bread. the staff were very nice and easy going too. the atmosphere was a lamon one – no attempts at gimmickry and attitude. you come here for the steak, you get the steak of your life.

geno’s. screams like a challenger brand, behaves like a challenger brand. as if for lack of any other worthwhile claim to pat’s king of steak, they just surrounded the place with neon. very american. the redneck kind. signs are all over the place about supporting the police force. there are even names and pictures of policemen as if it would somehow add what the flavor lacks. the best part: the sign that says “you are in america, speak in english”. ayos. yes, sir redneck nazi sir! now how about improving your grammar and diction first? if not for my scientific motives, i would have walked past this primitive place.

* * *

if by any chance, i become the president of the republic…

the first thing that i will do is form a 12 man covert hit squad. each will be housed and paid handsomely. all they have to do is to make sure that anyone putting the country in a bad light (massacres, scams, corruption) will get what they deserve: dead and disappeared. down to the last apo of the second degree of affinity and consanguinity. no media coverage, no police involvement, no nothing never.

tingnan natin.

 

headline

the one habit that i can never seem to shake off is reading the papers (alcohol too, although there are days when i can make it through without a single drop. quitting cigarettes out of lack of choice because i am not yet prepared to die, is one of the best things that i’ve ever done).

i prefer the physical kind where ink is impressed on the fingers, and opinions, on the mind. this is how i read the papers, the way my father reads it too: first go to the opinions, then the sports, then the comics, then the news. in that order.

nowadays, due to geographic divide, i settle for my fix from the internet. and, because TODAY folded, i am left with no choice but to go to the philippine daily inquirer. while that particular paper’s news reporting cannot be questioned, its taste on aesthetics is shit. everyday, the way the masthead intrudes in the layout sends my blood pressure upwards with around 50 points. the good side is that i am reminded to take my meds daily. also, its website is still on the web 1.o. there are no comments and the link “contact us” doesn’t work. i’ve tried 3 times contacting them, first, an opinion, then a plea, then a godsdamn insult about the shitheads manning the websites. all 3 messages bounced back.

anyway.

the headline this week is easily one of the worst ever printed. suddenly, all the euphoria from pacquiao’s victory is forgotten. perspective: when you are out of the country, any news does something to your pride a hundredfold. imagine making small talk and when someone asks you where you’re from and then they “educate” you about the latest news they’ve read from the new york times. motherfucking shit indeed.

the headline came with a supporting picture and the cut did its duty of telling a thousand words. as usual i went to the opinion pages and agreed with the editorial 100%. the picture needed to be there to show how horrible and horrifying the what happened was.

and now the question that is on my mind is: who should the public hang?

there are the cowards who pulled the triggers.

and there are the motherfuckers who gave these cowards the false sense of security to pull the triggers.

i suggest we start with the second.

headbanging my way to manila

this month and the next should be about a jethro tull retrospective. then some the cure and lycia. a sprinkle of tom waits. but no. i am enjoying the better albums of slayer (reign in blood and diabulos en musica) and death (leprosy and individual thought patterns). nothing like overspeeding grindcore and growl vocals to mime the cold. it’s college days revisited once again. i just want to go home and stay put in manila. i have had it with this weather.

i am counting the days and listing ways to go about my beer offensive. pale, redhorse, premium, and maybe super dry if i can find one. there’s also food of course that are too many to mention.

yesterday, louie dropped by and we walked and talked at the park. three bands are jamming at strawberry fields. hey jude was played and some women literally cried (john lennon contemporaries, i presume).

tomorrow, maia might drop by. momofuku and brother jimmy’s time.

these are the little things that provide much needed warmth.

time for laundry.

atonements

there is no escaping “new moon” so earlier in the week, i also watched “broken embraces” by pedro almodovar at angelika after “mammoth” by lukas moodysson.

and this afternoon, i also watched “bad lieutenant: port of call new orleans” by herr werner herzog right before pluging into the tween movie. just to steady my nerves as there are no alcohol in the vendo.

of course these atonements could never be enough for spending precious dolyares and even priceless time on the atrocity that is “new moon”.

turns out that this is even laughable than the previous installment. even the chicks are laughing. maybe it’s because of the hairless werewolves in human worm. did anybody say metrolycans?

things and thoughts at 2.23 ayem

just finished a little gun-for-hire writing. my mind needs to slow down. the rhum is helping, of course, but the book is making it wake up with every sentence. cory doctorow is becoming the william gibson of YA.

also, i am recognizing a pettern here. is the chapterless novel making a comeback? this is the second in a month. “sandman slim” was the first.

next, elizabeth hand’s “generation loss”. there’s still a lot of other books that must be read and i think this will become a marathon if i am to finish every book before we fly home.

* * *

times square is no wi-fied for free by yahoo.

* * *

saw “mammoth” written and directed by a swede film maker starring gael garcia bernal. set in new york, thailand, and manila. a theme of personal sacrifices corporate demons. very interesting. and the pinoy cast were superb. i hope it gets to be shown in manila (here, it’s only running in one cinema, the IFC theater at the village–maybe the US have no time for guilt tripping during this troubling times, yes?). also, the weird thing is that it took a foreigner to do outdoor shots the right way (the only other time i’ve seen it was HBO’s 24/7 but that’s a docu). maybe it’s a pinoy thing, ang karpentero walang bahay, ang nanay na teacher, out of school youth ang mga anak, and our filmmakers can’t shoot location shots right in their own backyard. quick, name me a pinoy film that happened outdoors, and by outdoors i don’t mean the lahar area or some undecipherable warehouse.

* * *

praying to goods for one email. just this one, quick and painless please.

patapos na ang taon, may humirit pa

cory doctorow’s latest. 30% off through borders’ membership, even cheaper than the strand. i can wait for stephen king and jonathan lethem from the library but cory doctorow–the brain behind boing-boing and the creative commons license and the author of one of the weirdest shit i have evah read (think a boy with a mountain for a dad and a washing machine for a mum, i shit ye not)–must be read. pronto. geekgasm na ito!

the concert

i’m having too much of a boner to think of cute titles like “shamen” or “worship” or even “men in black”.

so.

metallica in bullets.

• if the band can be reduced in a song, that would be “master of puppets”. the song that comes very close is “seek and destroy”. the rest just pales away.

• i think i am the only one not wearing a concert tee when i came in. at least i was in an all black ensemble.

• *volbeat*, a danish band, opened. heavy and trashy.

• *lamb of god* came next. very pantera of the year 2009 with the usual growl and speed. of course, the attire should match the sound. camo cut-offs and boots and wifebeater tees. i understood zero words from the lyrics except the word “motherfucker”.

• this was the most expensive 4 hours of my life. counting the ticket, the expense would come around 260 dolyares. hotdog, stella (11 per fucking glass, times 7 – and this was when i lost count), taxi, and concert tee.

• got the best seat in the house. one storey away from the moshpit. to my right and behind me are aisles so no trouble taking a piss and buying a beer. the way ticketmaster seats its customer is beyond beyond. the french chick one seat ahead of me, also alone by herself (feeling romantic to the tune “…as i wish for dead?” perhaps?) is also, of course, seated near the isle. how very considerate not to seat single ticket holders smack in the middle of groups. bravo!

• to my left was a hardcore fan who’s seen metallica around 9 times. this tour alone. the last time he’s seen them was last night. big man, long hair, tattoos, wifebeater shirt, mustache. muscle. “go wild, man, and sing to the songs,” he said to me. that was just before he checked his blackberry for an email this sunday night.

• metallica knew how to work an audience. the pauses were as loud as the noise. the blackouts were as blinding as the pryotechnics.

• the setlist were half classics, half “death magnetic”.

• they gave away drumsticks and picks almost every time a song ends. maybe it’s because tonight was the last night of the north american tour.

• they acknowledged the old ones (like my seatmate) and the virgins (like me).

• they took the time to thank everyone after the show spending some 15 minutes onstage just expressing their personal gratitude. also, the last song was rendered with the house and stage lights in full force so that “we could see each other”.

* * *

just when i thought that the blind morons pretending to be art directors at the philippine daily inquirer can’t outdo themselves, they just did.

today’s cover was the worst ever that i have ever seen. an idiot with a stick and a piece of mud could do so much better. PDI is like the windows of newspapers, they just don’t fucking care how things look.

t-minus 1 day and counting: all nightmare long

2012. a big, dumb movie that’s fit for a friday. it’s so refreshing to find a summer movie in the fall, the bait season of oscar wannabes.

woody harrelson was hilarious. the girl that’s supposed to be john cusack’s daughter looked like golum’s bastard child–she’s even creepier than esther.

*  *  *

okay, pacquaio time. stella, wings, pizza, rum. for the first time, we are hosting manny’s fight at the house over pay-per-view.

please manny, win this one. then retire.

* * *

tomorrow is metallica time! more beer!

 

t-minus 3 days and counting: sad but true

i wish i saw this inside a theater. with sunny.

based on a teleplay by david j. schow (author of the seminal “black leather required” and the sublime “rock breaks scissors cut”) this is a kick in the ass of horror movies.

three cinephiles set out to find a rare horror film. as students of the cinema arts, they know the tropes of horror flicks and as such, make sure that they have a cellphone (even checking for reception), gun (with bullets) and flares (plural). but everything goes down a bloody hill anyway.

what’s really cool is how the cliches are turned upside down. like the sex scenes and the nudity are shown 1/8 into the film and not as a preclimax obligatory scene, although there is that too. also the  the girl puts on her jeans first instead of running into the woods in her panties.

qoutes:

“you know the only thing i hate more than bad timing is actors who think they can direct.”

and

“that’s the worst form of transition —  a cliche — you blacked out! a time cut. how boring.”

and my favorite:

“nobody cares about that subtextual bullshit. get to the kill!”

* * *

cold. and now rain. lots of rain until the weekend. time to do some gun-for-hire writing.

still at t-minus 4 days…

just saw this piece of genius, a week and a half late.

praying rob zombie doesn’t do a remake, or a reboot, whatever.

t-minus 4 days and counting: the end of the line

“the sound of building coffins” would be one of the best, if not the very best, reads of the year. the kind that requires to be read way past bedtime as you crawl underneath a comforter with a maglite. aside from early poppy z. brite and caitlin r. kiernan, the last time i did that was with “the house of leaves”. maybe “the terror”. if there is only one book to be read this year, this would be it. although i am looking forward to stephen king’s “under the dome”, partially to see if he has gone catholic on us, constant readers.

* * *

the temperatura is hitting the low 40s and will be dropping to around low 30s come the afternoon. this, after a sunny and warm weekend. i am officially hating the weather. there is no more escaping the 12 pounder coats and doc martens.

* * *

the thought that in a month’s time i’ll be swimming in san miguel and shoveling panga ng tuna is failing to comfort me. i want to get out of new york, maybe for good. one can never get enough of this place and one shouldn’t even try. also, why not quit before you hit the hard concrete, har-de-fucking har. i just feel that this city is built on superficiality of the evil kind, the lovecraftian kind. at least vegas and LA, IMfuckingHO are not hiding their superficiality and aloofness and ostentatious display of shallowness. you get manicured lawns and bright lights and fake smiles and you know it to be true, even the fake smiles. here, it is impossible to tell.

last night i told my wife that i am tired of this city.

“you will miss new york”, was her only reply as she went back to here take-home work.

we have this code that when spoken by either of us, we will just pack our shit and go, no questions asked.

i very nearly came to using that word.

if only her firm has an office in new orleans or rhode island.

but of course, there is always manila.

i give myself one more year. so help me gods.

t-minus 7 days and counting: fight fire with fire

yesterday was “freezing”. that’s the word used by them meteorologists on tv. we decided to take a walk in the park anyway to catch the last yellowing leaves before they all fall. the squirrels are now frantically doing their best to secure some nuts against a background of trees starting to show skeletal trunks. a few greens ones are soldiering one. most are yellow, although there’s the occasional fiery red. the walk took about three hours which is a good thing, maybe the daily 13-block walk from times square to penn station (23 blocks of daily footsoldiering) is actually doing some good. no shortness of breath, no palpitations. which could only bring more beer.

* * *

today the sun is having its final show. temperatura is at the 60s. most restaurants are full, spilling to the sidewalk of sun and food worshippers.

* * *

speaking of restaurants, the nytimes blog has one of the most commented entry ever:

http://boss.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/29/one-hundred-things-restaurant-staffers-should-never-do-part-one/

 

 

t-minus 9 days and counting: broken, beat and scarred

in t-minus 8 days, it would be the pacquaio-cotto match, one of the most anticipated event in boxing history. pacquiao has a lot to gain. and also a lot to lose which makes the match doubly exciting. and factor in the fact that this is the only thing that will put the philippine flag in the world’s headlines not related to corruption, beheadings, kidnappings, and natural disasters and there you go.

we don’t have nobel peace prize winners but we have a boxer.

who’s also a singer.

and actor.

and a politician.

if am his PR machine, i only have three words for the man.

be a recluse. the jd salinger kind.

slaughter the enemy in the ring then hide without talking to anyone. ever. until the next fight.

mystery breeds fear. but that’s just me.

* * *

there is a lot of crap in the internet. especially the scam about “the copywriting that sells”.  we all know the drill: promise, long copy, testimonial, discount, another discount, a time-sensitive offer. i always wonder if ever anyone falls into this bullshit.

i remember the day when the iPhone was launched.

it only has a single piece of copy. “hello”. it’s not even a one-word pun.

judging by the way it is selling, one word is enough to survive the economic crash.

* * *

winter is here.

it was cold this morning when we cabbed it to penn station. the kind of cold that fries your ears.

and it was windy like a batman cartoon – newpapers and new york filth are being blown by the wind as a gazillion coppers are getting ready for the yankees parade.

in a week, gloves, muffs, and all other shit would be necessary to go outside.

i just want to have a good book and a good film and tinola inside the house.

fuck veterans day and thanksgiving.

* * *

i’m doing my damnedest to find this film:

t-minus 11 days and counting: enter sandman

i have seen the future of air travel and it is not funny. we will be flying our own shit.

so we finally booked the flights from NY to MLA to BKL and back to NY. it turned out that when buying our tickets, we also have to choose out seats, check out luggages, and of course pay for everything. even the fucking fuel. my prediction is that in the near future, we will also pay the salary of the pilots and the stewards/ess with every ticket we buy. or we fly the plane ourselves.

checking in from NY is a techo nightmare as there are zero human interaction, unless of course, you yell “bomb”, in which case the form of interaction will be a dick up your ass.

checking in from MLA is a human nightmare. there are lots of people who are as useless as a machine. the last time we flew, we checked in online and when we gave the receipt to the person at the counter, we got delayed for more than 20 minutes because, “kasi nag online check-in po kayo”. ayus.

so basically we buy the fuel, we pay to bring luggages, we do everything our very selves. with northwest airline pilots sleeping on the job, we are going to fly the planes someday…believe you me.

* * *

the dirty finger is returning to normal size. pain is almost gone and i can use it to type.

* * *

“sandman slim” is rocking like hell.

t-minus 13 days and counting: last caress

turned out i was number 1 on the hold for anne rice’s latest tome. so i got the book (very thin compared to her previous works) and then read it.

after 12 pages, i don’t know whether i should save my sanity and return the book.

example (from page 44):

the breath went out of me. the breath just left me. i looked directly into his eyes and i saw the love again, the pure unadulterated love, and acceptance, and then very gently, cautiously, he laid his hand on my left arm.

now, if only i have read “twilight” to compare.

UPDATE: i am definitely returning the book tomorrow a-s-fucking-p. the next three pages made me throw up my dinner. at least there’s “sandman slim” ready for pick up.

* * *

the dirty finger is now itchy as hell. most of the nail is black and i can feel it being pushed upwards by it version 2.o. it doesn’t send electric chills whenever i accidentally bump it against something. and the lack of pus is something to be thankful for.

* * *

tv scheds are being fucked by the world series. i am rooting for phillies because the yankees are living up to their name and are so full of themselves. at least V starts tomorrow. i have stopped following heroes, flashforward, and CSI. i’m down to top chef, house, fringe, and californication.

t-minus 14 days and counting: …and justice for all

the day after all hallow’s eve.

the day daylight savings time starts.

the day of the annual NY marathon.

14 days before the metallica concert.

this morning, i got an email alert from ticketmaster. as if i would ever forget. all i wish is that they’d play “harvester of sorrow”, “fuel”, and “seek and destroy”.

* * *

halloween.

after kare-kare and pork bbq from bayan cafe, we watched “the boondock saints: all saints’ day” at times square. i loved the movie. there’s nothing like violent men with blazing guns to pump the day with adrenaline. especially a sequel of the movie that the pundits (“as a child, nobody ever wanted to be a critic someday”) loathed. i hope it gets an international release.

then we killed time in soho (+J new stock at uniqlo this tuesday, i might get a new winter coat after all) and then we watched as throngs of revelers start to trickle one by one. the usual gory stuff, the usual cops and criminals, the gothic slut, the superheroes. it started to rain and a group of people as jellyfishes ruled: they have transparent umbrellas with tendrils and tentacles and they still paraded with dignity.

what we did is take a joyride, just going to and fro on the six train looking at people as they come and go. and this year’s best costume IMHO is a japanese school girl in a school girl outfit with blood pouring out of her eyes as she carries a pair of nunchuks. beat that superman.