Awesome Dream Sequence of the Day

There were two treasure hunters, and they finally stumbled into the hoard they were looking for. The room was filled with gold and gems, and at its center was a huge bust.

Except it wasn't just a bust. It was a bound god.

As the treasure hunters looted the place, one of them cracked the gems in the bust not knowing those were what was keeping the god bound. As the god woke from its slumber, it changed into a vengeful, ugly god. Slowly, it freed itself, its wrath strengthening it.

That's when I woke up. I think it looks like the first 3 minutes of a CGI-filled blockbuster.

This is a Dumb Kind of Sad, but It's Sad Anyway

Look, before you get your panties all bunched up, I know what I'm about to say is shallow, and superficial, and horribly insensitive of the living conditions of a lot of people in the world. But this is how I feel right now, and you don't have to read it.

But I feel really bad for lacking the self control to stop myself from binge eating. Earlier this morning, I made a resolve to go on a cleanse. No, I'm not on a weight loss crash diet. I want to go on a cleanse because I heard it does wonders for the digestive system.

By 4 pm, I was stuffing my face with french fries.

This isn't the first time I failed at going on a cleanse. I've attempted it several times before, but I keep giving up. I lack the self-control to stop myself from stuffing my face with food. For dinner, I thought of saving up a few bucks by going on a budget meal. But when I went to Pizza Hut, the budget meal I wanted wasn't available, so I ordered soup, thinking, hey, I'll save some bucks if I just order soup. Except after ordering soup, I had, like, a personal sized pizza too. Which is a lot of baked bread and bacon and cheese, and totally defeats the purpose of a.) the budget dinner, and b.) the cleanse. I ended up spending more than twice what I was supposed to spend to save up on the little cash I had left until payday.

My friend Denis said it's because I have an emptiness in my heart that I'm trying to fill with food. I think he's right, that cheeky bastard. Since I seem to have no control over my lovelife, and that people leave me and I can't stop them from doing so, I exercise control over the one thing I still have control over: my consumption of food.

So I eat. I consume. I devour. Because I may not be attractive enough to pique the interest of someone who'd take me out to dinner, but I am so fucking gonna eat my way through this motherfucking pizza.

But I'm afraid that's just one more thing that I'm losing control over. I can't even control my food intake. I can't control anything.

I think I'm losing it.

Notes From a Disenfranchised

I got disenfranchised.

Last night, I checked this lovely app on a website that locates my voting precinct for me, and found out that I am no longer a registered voter because I missed out on two consecutive elections. I think it's fair enough that people who don't participate as much should have their right to elect people in government revoked because when you stand to lose something, you appreciate it more.

But I can't believe I missed out on two elections! Ok, so I think I may have let the Baranggay elections slipped out of my mind, but I'm pretty sure I voted on the last National Elections. So, I had my sister check out my Timeline to see what I was doing on May 9-12 of 2010.

Thanks to Facebook's fully explorable Timeline, we came across these following clues that explained what I was preoccupied with at that time: A photo of me holding my grandmother's hand in the ICU, a check-in at the St. Luke's Hospital, and a photo of me goofing with the hopital's K9 guard dog.

So, yeah. I wasn't able to participate in that election because I was busy taking care of my grandmother. And I'd miss every election for her. I'd miss everything for her.

But, it's such a big letdown that I can't vote. So, in lieu of actual voting, I'm sharing my list so that I may somehow influence someone else. I know that's not enough of a participation, but every little counts.

Here is how I would have voted had I not been disenfranchised....

Partylist: 

Ang Ladlad needs a good tagline. Seriously, bekis, what's up with the drab campaign? The Ladlad's campaign materials all proclaimed its importance as the partylist that stands for the LGBT community. But it forgot to play on its strength: fierceness in the face of adversity. With no memorable battlecry, Ang Ladlad stands to be forgotten in the polls. (How hard is it to come up with something like "Sa Ladlad, Winner Ka!"?)

But I would have voted for Ladlad despite their lackluster campaign. It's the only partylist that's brave enough to face discrimination head on. What convinced me is my father. One afternoon, after bringing my sister and her friends to the swimming pool at the clubhouse, my father remarked "I think those guys are gay. Malalaki pa ang katawan sa akin ng mga putangina."

My father's narrow vision of sexuality is something I have to live with all my life. Sexuality is not the only aspect of humanity that my father knows so little of. Among them, race, religion, animal rights, territoriality. My father thinks the US shouldn't trust Obama, and that a warship is more valuable than Tubbataha reef. My father asserts this with the sure voice of one whose opinions do not invite disagreement.

But before you think badly of him, let us all appreciate the fact that I own half of my awesome genes from him. The fact that you're reading this blog entry this far means you trust me and my ideas, and if you do, then we owe that from that man.

Ang Ladlad is a partylist that's brave enough to educate and standup against men like my father. While the other partylist espouses vague promises such as better this and better that, Ang Ladlad knows exactly not only what it's fighting for, but what it's fighting against.

But, come on, you guys really to step up and play to your strengths. Sayang ang campaign!

Senatoriables:

I want to vote for Nancy Binay, but I won't. Nancy Binay is a nice woman. Pitted against Vice Ganda, she makes more sense. Whereas the miseducated stand-up comedian used rhetoric and comedic timing, Nancy Binay made her points clear: When it comes to serving the country, she's born into it. She has spent her whole life learning by the feet of her father, she has worked closely with her parents. She knows so much more about running a state than Vice Ganda ever will. She is educated in the country's premiere state university, THE University of the Philippines.

 I don't value experience over wisdom and insight. Nancy Binay has a lot of insight when it comes to what's good for Makati, and if so, maybe she'll use that insight in drafting laws that's good for the Philippines.

I want to vote for Nancy Binay, but I won't. Nancy Binay is a nice woman, but there's a lot at stake here. Think of it as the finals for American Idol. Thousands want to be counted in so they audition. But from that, a panel selects the best hundred or so. Now, from the hundreds who passed the audition, they have to select a handful. That handful is the final 12. There is no doubt that the hundreds who made the cut are full of talent, ambition, and the need to make people happy. But there are only 12 slots, and we must choose wisely. Nancy Binay WOULD MAKE A GOOD SENATOR, but I don't think this is her breakout year. Maybe a few more years in the public's eye, and she can turn that around.

I don't want to vote for Rissa Hontiveros and Teddy Casino, but I should. Something turned me off when I saw Rissa Hontiveros use her alampay/scarf to resolve the problems of the nation. I don't understand how, even metaphorically, her alampay can be imbibed with superpowers. There's a certain shamelessness to how she desperately wants to be in power, and I don't trust people who wants to be in power so bad, they'll wear an alampay everywhere they go to whip out corruption. I'm distrustful too of how Teddy Casino is being branded as the "Karaniwang Tao" because ordinary people don't go to the schools he or his sons went to. Also, his son is kinda a hot mess. I don't trust parents who let their kids enter the TV-movie industry without prior training in the stage.

But they both say the right things, and they're fighting for the right causes. Election is not about what I want, but what I think is good for the country. Rissa Hontiveros and Teddy Casino are both good for the country.  We need them in the Legislative.

Bro. Eddie Villanueva stands for everything I oppose. He is conservative, anti-RH, and can only operate within the parameters of his values system. But that is why WE NEED BRO. EDDIE VILLANUEVA IN THE SENATE. Because he's a well-meaning man, with clean intentions, and old school values. He represents a life that we look back on with nostalgia, he stands for the goodness inside us that makes society worth fighting for. His will and conscience is strong enough to approximate ours. I really hope he wins in this election.

I'm voting for Angara because he's crazy sexy. Look, given that I get to vote 12 people, I owe it to myself to throw away one of those just for Crazy Sexy Vote. Also, he looks like he's not particularly FOR anything, and that he's receptive to what the people want, so I think he'll be one of those senators who listens to public opinion before listening to his own. So, yey. I am so gay for Angara, I'll vote for him.

On the other end of that decision is my decision to vote for Action Gordon and Hagedorn. They're the sort who will listen to their own opinions first before consulting the people because they're so sure that they know better than to trust the "wisdom of the crowd". I don't trust the wisdom of the crowd. If we let it to the majority, our government will be in the form of a noontime TV show where people get rewarded for making fools of themselves on air. Gordon and Hagedorn seem like the sort who will roll up their sleeves, stop thinking, and start doing.

The rest I'm kinda lumping together for their track record, platform, and general appeal: Jun Magsaysay, Jamby Madrigal (also, points for standing up against Manny Villar), Loren Legarda (she's like an elderly school principal; you kinda don't want to be close to her, but you have to trust her that she knows what's good for you), Chiz Escudero (only because I can't think of a reason why I shouldn't vote for him), Bam Aquino (because he's the only person who can make a microfinancing infrastructure work for the masses), and Alan Peter Cayetano (again, because I can't think of a reason why I shouldn't vote for him over killers, drug lords, bigos, etc).

I lost my right to vote this year. I should have ensured that I hold that right months ago, but I was too sure of my participation in the past, that I didn't even consider that I might have lost it.

I hope those of you who can vote do so. And vote with the good of the country in mind.








 

The Silver Lining in the Clouded Judgment

Early Thursday evening, I was browsing through the shelves of the Powerbooks at the Greenbelt 4. I was too early for the dinner I had set with Cam-b and Raprap, so I thought I'd grab a book to keep me company.

And to stop me from wrecking everything in my path.

My friend Bogs said I have a "Hulk Mode". It's when I go berserk, and smash everything close at hand. Which is another way of saying I hurt everyone close to me.

Real reason why I came early for dinner that night: I had an episode at the office. I freaked out. I dramatically cleared my table of everything, I threw things around, I shouted and screamed at my friends.

It wasn't a good feeling. It's the worst. I have had managed my anger quite successfully for the longest time now. I have been taking classes in mixed martial arts  so that I have an outlet for all my pent-up destructive energy. I have his thing where I block out everything by playing one song on a loop the whole day to effectively distract me from whatever was pissing me off.

I have anger management issues. I have ruined one too many relationships because of it. I can justify myself and say all those times I lost it, I was provoked. But I want to take responsibility for my weakness. I have rage issues. It's a flaw that people sometimes accidentally trigger.

Generally, I'm not a violent person. I have honed my wits enough to know that I can win any conflict simply with the sharpness of my mind, the strengths of my arguments, the stamina of my convictions.

But look, a bear in hibernation would fucking rip you to pieces if you don't stop poking it with a stick. You may think it's a joke, and bears are generally warm and fuzzy, but I'm still a fucking bear, man, and bears are like the only fucking animals that have no natural predator (except, Ok, a man with a shotgun).

I'm a bear, and sometimes, I lose it.

So, while I was browsing at the bookstore, I came across the novel The Silver Lining Playbook, and read this from the short description at the back cover:

Meet Pat. Pat has a theory: his life is a movie produced by God. And his God-given mission is to become physically fit and emotionally literate, whereupon God will ensure a happy ending for him -- the return of his estranged wife Nikki. (It might not come as a surprise to learn that Pat has spent time in a mental health facility.) The problem is, Pat's now home, and everything feels off. No one will talk to him about Nikki; his beloved Philadelphia Eagles keep losing; he's being pursued by the deeply odd Tiffany; his new therapist seems to recommend adultery as a form of theraphy. Plus, he's being hunted by Kenny G!

Which is basically my life in novel form. As my close friends know, I have always, always believed that I exist solely to entertain God. God throws plotlines my way to test my character.

Also, Pat is crazy obsessed about being physically fit. Like Siege Malvar. Also, he has anger management issues.

I'm still, like, a third into the book, but already I'm loving it. I rarely come across a book that I can strongly connect with. I love this book. You guys should read it too. 

Saturday, After the Rain

Just one of those days where the rain makes everything smell like wet wool, and I can smell the yellowness of the second-hand Rushdie paperback in my hands, and I have never deserved a Marlboro more than now, and dreams are not limited by timelines or Visa or age, and dreams are not piled on by the bills in the mailbox, and it's cool to improvise lyrics to French jazz songs, and every stranger is stranger than you.

Letter to the Management of All Things

To The Management of All Things
In Heaven, Hell, and the Philosophies of Man,

Dear God,

This is with regards to the recent storylines in the on-going series "Life Under Siege", and my dissatisfaction with said developments.

As someone who have been part of the project since it's--rather, my-- conception, I can confidently claim that I am discussing this with nothing but the best interest for everyone involved in my mind. I have soldiered on through the most convoluted plot twists, I have weathered through the craziest storms.

I believe my recent performance handling the very tricky "Unholy Trinity" plotline should impress on you the kind of dedication I have for good storytelling.

However, quite recently, You have taken it upon Yourself to introduce a new character whose role is, as of current episode, growing in significance. Upon careful analysis of possible trajectories in which we can take the plot, I have come to the conclusion that this is a tragic, if not pathetic, course. We are all bound for a hot mess, and I refuse to participate in this storyline any further.

Having said that, I would like to express my eagerness for the next plotline which we would rather pursue. I still believe that there's a very, very big story coming up in the next few episodes, and the anticipation of that is why I keep hanging on.

Thank you, and hoping for your kind consideration.

Yours,
Siege Malvar

The Value of Pretty

Something someone said on Facebook caught my attention a few days ago. One of my social network peers was apparently offended by something someone on his network said about him, along the lines of "being nothing but just fair skinned".

To defend himself, my peer insisted on being "pretty" no matter what shade of skin he wears. It went on to raise other points, most of them arguing about his relative beauty against others. It was a superficial, petty quarrel that piqued my interest for its anthropological implications.

First: why is there a need to defend, and argue for, someone's beauty? Regardless if it's yours, or of someone you care about. An attack on one's physical attractiveness deserves no reply by my books. It's a ridiculous debate to determine who is beautiful and who is not because of a multitude of reasons, some of the ones I can throw from the top of my head are:

- Beauty is a social construct. What is "beautiful" for us "now" is a matter of what society grew to agree on as beautiful. What society agrees on is temporary, like territorial lines, and most moral systems. This means that you are "beautiful" only because most people "say" so TODAY, and RIGHT HERE. That doesn't make you "beautiful" THEN or FOR ETERNITY, and even for EVERYWHERE.

- Being pretty is a matter of genetic lottery. Bragging about your height, or your cheekbones, or your flawless skin, or your full lips is like being proud your father won a raffle draw. You absolutely HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. You are just a product of two sets of genes mixing together in your mother's womb, and coming out right for a particular here and now* (see argument above).


Also, what perplexed me with their online debacle is the issue it implies: What is the value of beauty?

Indeed, what is "being pretty" for?

I'm really baffled by the amount of money we throw to people who stood above the median height of the population, and the opportunities that we offer to people simply because they look foreign enough to be "uncommon".

"Being pretty" is pretty useless. You cannot create anything out of your cuteness. It is not creative, it is not productive, it is not useful to be pretty, or cute. You will achieve nothing out of your cuteness.

Even if you win the argument, and has indeed defended the honor of your physical attractiveness, in the end, you fought for something temporary and useless.

You cannot achieve any of your goals by looking pretty; unless you goal is to have a large set of options for mating purposes.

You do not become a better person just because you look good. What you DO is what makes you a good person.

You do not earn people's respect because you look hot. How you treat others is what will.

When you define yourself by how you look, you put limitations on yourself because you ignore what it is you CAN DO. By focusing on your physical attributes, you shortchange your potential. You are wasting your life by defining your life with your looks.

But then again, why should you care about what I think? You look good, and that's all that matters.