Rocket Man, Burning Up His Fuse

Just finished Planet Hulk and the action-packed first issue of World War Hulk, as well as the JLA-JSA-Legion teamup story "The Lightning Saga." Read a bunch of good Marvel Handbooks too. Maybe I’ll talk about ‘em next time.

Live for Your Smile, Die for Your Kiss

Your arms and chest hurt again after hours of using those snazzy exercise devices like the low row, the pectoral machine, the chest incline, the chest press, the vertical traction and the delts machine, but they hurt so good and make you feel that you spent your time there wisely, and you can’t help but wonder if those uber-hotties in their revealing gym-wear ever eat anything, or if they always looked that way, because, boy, they probably look good in anything and have awesome sex all the time, but it helps that you’re not the most outta shape person there, that you really don’t care about the eye candy too much, that you’re enjoying your workout, your head raised and lower lip tucked, that the nighttime view of the cityscape from the shower cubicle window makes you wanna touch yourself, and that you’re far from the confines of normalcy, albeit temporarily.

Normal would be when you do your duties like clockwork, thinking about the money you’ll be able to spend for all your needs and wants, true, but there are days when you just wanna escape the mundanity of it all, the seriousness of it all, the feeling of being constricted and trapped, and all you could think about are the times when things were unbelievably happy and you were content with just getting off and sleeping when daylight came, not caring about anything else especially the consequences and the repercussions, those dreaded four-syllable words that meant that you have to be an adult now, that you have to take responsibility, that you can’t be complacent anymore.

But that’s easier said than done, and when things aren’t normal and you’re alone, or wish to be, you just think about the quick cheap thrills, the taste of escape, the sweet freedom given by those whom you fantasized about, and you’d have died happy too because they’re your drug, those escapist souls like yourself, excited and eager to just get away from real life, unbridled by concerns and deadlines and monthly dues especially in those stolen times, getting intimate in ways that still blow your mind, and all you can process again and again are the careful thrusts and the arousing moans, the hard and the tender parts, the warm mouths that hungered, the skin that felt comfortable next to yours, the magic hands, the sweet surrender, the warm and wet essence of the climax on bare flesh that others can only imagine and dream about.

But you keep desiring and dreaming, and when you feel some of them tugging in that silly thing you call a heart, or hear their intoxicating voices in your head, you just wonder why things can’t last forever, why people can’t be more honest, so you think about escaping some more, but drowning yourself in the bottle isn’t exactly the way to do it, you learn quickly, that’s why you distract yourself with all those other things, but you end up watching more gorgeous people--you wanna be them and you wanna bed them!--and you’re curious how their clothes hide their imperfect skin, which everyone has anyway, and you wish you were as well-versed at the art of verbal communication as those with a similar propensity for adventure.

When the restlessness ends, you wonder why, even when you don’t deserve it, devotion to you remains, despite the insecurities and that pain you inadvertently caused, feelings you’re no stranger to, and you try to smile through the lies and especially when the precarious balancing act feels tedious and thankless that you just wanna jump off a cliff, metaphorically speaking, but at the end of the day, after the heartache and tears, you savor these moments, because they’re your own, and even when you don’t believe in yourself, sometimes, it’s more than enough that they do.

Sole Survivor

Drunk alien toy collector, from a panel off my unpublished story, illustrated early last year

This Precious Time, When Time is New

I’ve been looking to the past again, probably my way of gaining insight and divining my direction for the future. I’ve been especially reflective lately, partly because I grew a conscience again, and also because I need to regain control of my life. Not that I don’t have that, it’s just that I’ve been enjoying things way too much lately. Just had some health checkups, and thankfully, there’s nothing majorly wrong. Whew.

Ah, the future. I fear you, somewhat, but you've always been here.

Blood Makes Noise

Speaking of looking back, I'm half-amazed, half-aghast at stuff I drew about ten years ago. Dhampyr, written by Alamat’s talented David Hontiveros, was something I illustrated at a time when I was feeling entirely different. I did that during a period of anxiety, and looking at it now, there are portions of it that show how restless I was back then, at least to me. I remember it was launched that Halloween, and was even featured in a short segment by the midnight show Business and Leisure (where the female voiceover pronounced it as “dam-pire” instead of “dam-peer”). It was at Synergy in Glorietta; I don’t know exactly where it used to be, but I remember that it was an arcade and the place was packed. I look at that comic book fondly; some pages surprise me now because of some technically impressive parts, while others make me cringe and wince because they look real icky and unfocused. I can admit that now, at least.

(Pic above from Budjette’s phlog)

Babes in Boyland

Again, I’m no stranger to feeling uncertain about my future, about what to do next. And even when I can say that I’ve matured in a lot of ways since then, I still feel anxious and restless once in a while.

As part of my ruminations, I’ve just been looking at old photos, writings and drawings, as well as profile pages and blogs of friends and strangers. These trigger connections to old feelings and mindsets, and I don’t know, they make me remember how good some things were back then for me. There’s almost always that realization that things may never feel the same way again, but there’s the hope that there are still things worth exploring and enjoying. I can only say so much here, and I’d rather treasure some experiences off-blog, yeah. Hah, cryptic much? Well, to quote a friend, that’s the way I’m built. Not that anyone cares, of course.

Oh, this image below was scanned off the contributors’ page of March last year’s issue of Icon. Yeah, that’s me, and I was surprised the girl at the extreme right, Ana Marie, was there too. Anyway, turns out that she’s the sister-in-law of the magazine’s editor in chief, and she wrote about a restaurant. Coolness. I’ve often wondered how some people--at least those old classmates without Friendster profiles--are doing, and how they’ve grown. She was my seatmate during fourth grade, and was really kind to me especially since I was a new student that year. I think I had a crush on her for a while. That thought kinda weirds Benedict out, because coincidentally, they have the same surname.

Two years ago, I remember him yanking me by the wrist through Club Government, that party place where Icon’s launch was held, to drop off a bunch of Lexy’s for review. Cool but crowded place, that; not at all Queer As Folk-y decadent, but I’ve only been there once, so I dunno how it’s like on normal days. Met most of the staffers there, as well as some old friends and acquaintances. Interesting crowd, too, gay boys and their faghags were dancing to the thumpa-thumpa, while some people were just milling around and looking lost (but so ready to get it on).

Hmm, I checked the archives; I wasn’t able to write about it. Must’ve been preoccupied or something. But yeah, it was also good that I was able to contribute something to the mag many months later.

Soaring Tumbling Freewheeling

Finished the two-hour pilot of Battlestar Galactica. Man, that was depressing. But the show’s actually good, except maybe for the space battle effects scenes (while technically well-rendered, they feel rather cold and drab). I hesitated to watch the next episode because I didn’t want to feel sapped, but the more bearable running time made it easier. It was tense; the human characters on the show are constantly on the run, after the deadly Cylon robot “race” eliminated billions in a barrage of nuclear attacks. It’s kinda heavy, but I’m interested to see where it’s heading.

But I didn’t get teary eyed over it at all as I did over scenes from L Word and Veronica Mars episodes that I recently watched. Sigh. Sometimes, you just feel some of these fictional people’s pain more than you do those of reality’s, which is, I know, sad and a testament to brilliance at the same time.

Shining Shimmering Splendid

Just wanted to post two paragraphs that were omitted from my published review of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer yesterday. I’m thankful, of course, that it got printed, but because of space constraints, parts were edited out. These were the two paragraphs that were originally there, just before the last one in the edited version. Spoilerish, for those who’ve yet to see it:

- - - - - - - - - -

This “devourer of worlds,” Galactus, isn’t seen as the ornately armored humanoid giant, and will probably be a huge letdown to longtime comic book fans. He’s a mass of cloudy energy here, and is reduced as a one-dimensional plot device that’s supposedly holding the Surfer’s homeworld hostage. Oh, the Surfer’s cool, by the way, despite the very limited information we get on his character. He’s motion-acted by Doug Jones (who previously appeared as the fairy-munching monster in “Pan’s Labyrinth”), while Laurence Fishburne supplies his majestic voice.

The resolution is too dependent on his change of heart, however, and it doesn’t show the Fantastic Four as a force to be reckoned with. They should’ve outsmarted Galactus, but in their darkest hour, all they could do was hope that their problem gets solved for them. One member bites the dust temporarily, which sends the Surfer switching sides in the quick, oomph-free final conflict. But the team should’ve fought this climactic battle themselves, with high-tech guns and gizmos a-blazing. But we don’t see that happen. Bummer.

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Clarification

The komiks article I submitted to the Entertainment section of the paper is finally out today. Here's the online version. I sent that a couple of months ago. I'm thankful that they were able to keep its length. Space is hard to come by these days in that section. To Mrs. Luming Coching, Regie Ravelo, Carl Vergara, and Gerry Alanguilan, thank you very much for helping out, and for your patience. I dunno which pictures made it, so please grab a copy of the print version soon.

Also, I'd like to clarify something. A pair of sentences in the first paragraph of the published/edited version reads: "The medium thrived, enjoying a diverse audience. But it is slowly vanishing from the newsstands." I originally wrote, "This medium thrived and enjoyed a diverse readership until it slowly vanished from newsstands in recent years." I mention this because I know for a fact that komiks currently aren't being sold at sidewalks or other places that sell newspapers and other publications. So that sentence should've been in the past tense all along.

But these things happen... and, well, I still love my editors. :)

Me and My Jekyll and Hydeness

Two Stars for Arms Like Orion

Arms hurt. I think I went overboard with lifting weights yesterday. John and I had complimentary gym passes, and we were quite satisfied with about three hours of workout time in that classy enough place. Treadmilled and used a few of the lats-arms exercisers, so I now feel muscle pain every time I move or raise my arms. Yowtch. He enjoyed the sauna; wish I tried that too.

Last Saturday was Toycon at Megamall. Got me a classic Donna Troy figure (from the Infinite Crisis set, series 2), and a Tim Drake Robin (from the DC Superheroes line). Later in the evening, Dicky won People’s Choice and Fudge’s Favorite awards for his transforming Brawn costume, so congrats, you. Thanks also for this pic above with the life-sized Justice Leaguers.

Five and Up

If I traveled back in time and met up with you, I wonder how much of what I’ll tell you you’ll believe. I know that you don’t care about the future, not yet anyway, but if I tell you things about it now, how differently would your life end up?

Well, I’ll tell you what I know about you, anyway. You’re only concerned with very few things, like your robot cartoons--Voltes V, UFO Grendaizer and Mazinger Z—but they’ll be gone in a few months. Not to worry. You’ll forget about them and follow other cartoon adventures, especially Paul in Fantasyland. You’ll be playing with Lego for the first time next year, and you’ll want to study more because you just love asking for--and getting--toy rewards. Not long after that, your mom will buy you your first comic books from National Bookstore’s Edsa Central branch. But for now, you’re happy with just running around and playing in that big pile of sand outside your house.

Oh, by the way, you’ll be leaving that all-boys school in three years. How different would things have been if you stayed there? Many of your classmates will be studying there until they’re 16. That’s old for you, I know, but you will grow and change, too. It’s not that big a deal. You’ll leave that school and you’ll forget about your life there. You’ll think about the kids you considered friends and imagine how they turned out, many years later.

But there will be other friends. One of those is chasing the priests’ pet sheep at his school’s garden right now, while another of your future confidants had just been born. It’ll be a long time before you meet them. The others, well, you’ll be crossing the street, or walking in the supermarket, and they’re there. You don’t know it, and neither do they, but years later, you’ll meet them for real and you’ll be drawn to them. You may’ve met some of ‘em already.

There will be times when you’ll be sad, but when you’re much, much older, you’ll accept that the world isn’t perfect. You already know that it’s not. People will fail you; you won’t know what to believe. But that won’t last. When you’re older, there’ll be others like you. You’ll be talking and asking a lot about life. You don’t believe that now, because you’re a shy boy. Well, get back to whatever it was you were doing, kid. You don’t understand English that well, yet, so keep watching Sesame Street. And be a good boy. You sure won’t be when you grow up.

Fifteen, There’s Still Time for You

So much for my time jaunt. It seems like you’ve grown the same way, so I’m invading your dream, instead. I know you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about. I’m a stranger and all, but I know you, oh, yes indeedy. Right now, you’re a fan of Fra Lippo Lippi, When In Rome and Debbie Gibson… should I go on? But there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re okay, you know? A bit overeager, but at your age, that’s understandable. You’re not one of the hip, fornicating, gin-guzzling athlete types or cool hunky boys, but you’re immersed in what you like. By this time, I’d say you’re already an individual; some people look up to you and some despise you for your newfound confidence. Oh, teenage drama. You and your friends only think you know what’s in store for you. You have no damn idea.

You thought you wanted to play the drums to impress some girl, but you decided not to pursue that because you feel that it’s too much hard work. You wanna be a radio deejay, but really, you only want to play stacks of vinyl records, and for people to listen to your playlist. But, you know your strengths. You can do other things well. Still, you’re doing a barely decent job as Art Club president, and that moderator’s getting paid for not doing anything! You’re okay with the responsibilities he’s given you, though, and you want to experience how leadership feels. Well, good luck with that, you naïve twink.

You still have to study for your NCEE, and fill up some college applications on top of that. But don’t worry; you’ll get into the university that’s right for you. You’ll love that first year of college, let me tell you that, your initial anxieties about the change of pace and environment notwithstanding.

It’s good that you’ve come out of your shell and are communicating more. You’re a normal kid. You’re already starting to think about those questions during Bible study and Mass. You know what I’m talking about. But you can’t speak out just yet. You’re at that stage, maybe a necessary one, to help make you more discerning someday. But yeah, I believe now that you’re going to understand more from experience. There will be times you’ll feel duped, but you’ll get better. You’ll also feel lost, ignored, and confused, and not always in that order. But I promise you, there will be clarity.

You’ve yet to meet people who’ll profoundly and drastically alter and influence your life. You’ll find yourself at odds with a few of them sometimes, but the storms pass. And there will be those who’ll stand by you even when you’re not feeling worth anything.

In the meantime, enjoy that full head of hair. The clock will start ticking on it when you’re 22. But fret not. You’ll get action when you least expect it, so don’t be an idiot during those times. You’ll meet interesting people through your job, and also with the help of the computer. No, it’s not just for Lotus 123 or playing Digger anymore. You’ll be changing radically, but I’d rather not say how, for now. There will be those persons to whom you’ll surrender yourself, but not always completely. Some of them will break your heart, and you’ll do the same to them too. I’d suggest that you avoid certain people, but you have to know mistakes firsthand and learn from them. You’re going to want everything, and you’ll discover that that’s the kind of person you are.

You’ll forget all these, I know, but I hope they’ll stick to your subconscious. Be brave, young man. It’s going to be nuts, but you’ll survive.

Love's Like a Needle, Every Time

Hot June night. Ants are still a-marching, even though it looks like it’s gonna be raining hard again real soon. But I’m not minding the heat that much, at least not tonight. I’m listening to old new wave music between sipping nearly frozen iced tea, and jumping around like a fool. What a weird week for semi-epiphanies, blessing-counting, and impromptu rendezvous’s. Pardon the crypticness; I’m just my own prime time TV program this week. Nothing in particular about that I’m at liberty to share, however. But I’m feeling okay.

Lust is Contagious

Speaking of TV, I’ve been thinking about how fictional people have been written to reflect reality’s unusual relationships. I dunno; love and lust and all the things in between are a puzzle to me sometimes, even when I’m no stranger to those feelings. As several showbiz people have figured in different relationship scandals recently, I just have to wonder about the traditional notions surrounding fidelity and long-term unions and their parameters. But, meh, not really interested right now in talking about what’s acceptable behavior and what’s not; besides, gossip isn’t my cuppa tea.

Still, Carrie Bradshaw illumination moment: I guess people pursue what they want, and there’s thrill in the supposedly illicit connections. Well, here are some of my fave TV hookups, breakups, complicated relationships and couples. No particular order:

1. Veronica Mars’ first season boyfriend trouble was easy to follow, as she’s torn between rich kid jerkoid Logan Echolls and rich kid weirdo Duncan Kane. She also has a chaste relationship with the hot new Italian cop (I know people who’d rather see her end up with this guy), but it was one of the show’s best moments when she unexpectedly locked lips with someone who’s almost her exact opposite in the first season. Hawt.

2. The Jenny-Tim-Marina triangle from The L Word was developed well, however predictably. When lesbian restaurateur Marina first meets the similarly well-read Jenny, they hit it off fast. Soon, they repeatedly fool around behind the back of the latter’s boyfriend, Tim. But, wait, Jenny still fancies man parts! Yep. Bisexual.

3. In Queer As Folk, among the most intriguing storylines was the breakup of the longtime lez couple Melanie and Lindsay, caused by the blonde’s unexpected attraction to an artist. A guy! I like how this was foreshadowed over a span of episodes, but the eventual tryst was still surprising.

4. Also in QAF, I especially like when college boy Justin abandoned his bedhopping soulmate Brian Kinney for a sweet and gifted violinist. The arc showed Justin’s character briefly harbor a secret for a change, and the inevitable discovery by Brian and his succeeding devious machinations to mess up the new lovers were excellent.

5. Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s always had addictive romance angles, but my favorite is still the Buffy-Riley-Angel confrontation back in the fourth season. I had pretty much the same “Oh my god!!!” reaction as a friend and a sibling when the Slayer’s vampire ex Angel and current soldier beau Riley first met face to face, under less than pleasant circumstances. Ah, that Buffy and her alpha male admirers. Love the way Angel mocked Riley in front of his ex: “You sleep with this guy?!” Zing.

6. The implied occasional pairing of Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones (above, thanks torchwood3.co.uk), was a stunning revelation. Everyone knows that Jack shags guys, but Ianto? After his whining and mourning for his girlfriend-turned-cyborg killing machine (who nearly snuffed his fellow Torchwood agents), who’d have thought? Just a few eps later, I paraphrase:

Ianto: There are many things you can do with a stopwatch. (smiles)
Jack: I’ll send them home early. Meet me in my office in ten minutes! (smiles)

Three bisexual hookups in this list. Hmm. Hotness.

Heart of the Matter

Three songs. Love ‘em. “I Call Your Name” is by A-Ha, “As Long As It Matters” is by Gin Blossoms and last one’s “Caramel” by Suzanne Vega. Relevant at this point.

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I Call Your Name

We got married on a cold mid-winter’s morning. We said our lines, then kissed and it was over. Those pronouncements had such weight. I guess they made us hesitate.

When she moved her hips and swayed in my direction. I thought we could make it yet and beat the isolation. But in that gentle dark, man, we tore ourselves apart.

Through the fire and rain, through the wilderness and pain, through the losses, through the gains, on love’s roller coaster train: I call your name.

We used to laugh. Is the fire dying, babe? It hurts to ask. Let me hold you for awhile.

Through the fire and rain, through the wilderness and pain, through the losses, through the gains, on love’s roller coaster train: I call your name.

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As Long As It Matters

How can I find something that two can take? Without stumbling as we walk into our future’s wake. I’m like a broken record that you can play. Repeating as if it matters everything I want to say.

I’ll be all right. As long as it matters. As long as you’re here with me now.

Forget that time, it’s nothing we touch and see. All this is fine even as it crashes down on me. I’m looking around, there’s nothing that I could want. More than to tell you there’s no more than we’ve already got.

I’ll be all right. As long as it matters. As long as you’re here with me now.

Forget that our time is almost up.

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Caramel

It won’t do to dream of caramel, to think of cinnamon, and long for you.

It won’t do to stir a deep desire, to fan a hidden fire that can never burn true.

I know your name. I know your skin. I know the way these things begin.

But I don’t know how I would live with myself, what I’d forgive of myself, if you don’t go.

So goodbye, sweet appetite. No single bite could satisfy,

I know your name. I know your skin. I know the way these things begin

Chicken Lover

Cocky old pic. This was taken almost two years ago, while waiting for the Narnia preview at Shang.

One Good Stretch Before Our Hibernation

Dashboard Confessional’s “Stolen” keeps playing over and over in my head for days now. Saw the video a few weeks back, and it’s getting decent rotation, which is kinda strange because the “Dusk and Summer” album’s been out for almost a year here (got it soon after it was released), and that’s many months after the initial track “Don’t Wait” began showing over the music channels. The video for “Stolen” is cute, especially the parts where two kids find out via card-reading that they’re fated to be lovers when they grow up. It’s also kinda funny when Chris Carrabba looks like he’s straining to hit the notes and his neck looks like it’s gonna pop. But I love the song and his voice. Can’t get ‘em outta my head, and my memories of the last few weeks are soundtracked heavily by them. The album’s other songs (about summer and nakedness and kissing and all the mushy metaphors) make the album something that the lovesick, lovestruck emo-types can’t afford to miss.

Saw the Fantastic Four sequel a few hours ago with lustful Popes John and Benedict. The movie feels short, and could’ve explored things more, but hmmm… I’m still processing it. There are cool parts that weren’t explained properly and there are those that were painful to see, but it’s something that you won’t take too seriously, unlike other recent superhero movies. I was hoping to see more of… oops, almost spoiled it. Despite its occasional clunkiness, it's still mostly mindless fun; if you’re just after that, it’ll probably easily work for ya.

Feeling sleepy but I’m full so I won’t crash just yet. Finished season six of 24 last Sunday. Finally. Erm, I like the previous season way better. Some spoilers, right about… now. After two years of torture in a Chinese prison, a shaken and traumatized Jack Bauer is released to his country to help out during a deadly series of attacks. He gets his groove back, of course, just before the end of the first episode. While handcuffed, he savagely kills a bad guy captor by biting down his neck! Jack’s still one mean killing machine. Well, there are new characters you’ll really hate at first but you’ll grow to love them as the story progresses, as usual. But I got bored at times, so I just fiddled with my action figures, made them strike curious poses while I watched the show. There were times I lifted weights and exercised while glued to the TV, as well as times when I really just wanted to drink beer.

But, sigh, work beckons once again. Must get some rest in a few. Tomorrow, as much as I wanna just escape and live for the moment, I gotta switch back again for a few hours and be the hardworking, no-nonsense kinda guy.

Equal Partners in a Mystery

The stabbing pain in my right shoulder’s gone, finally. I must’ve over-exercised Monday night, but the pain recurred every time I’d move my arm a certain way, and that lasted till late Wednesday. I felt some muscle stress in my legs and abdomen also last Tuesday morning. But they didn’t last as long. Anyway, I’m feeling so much better now, and I’m hoping that I’m done with that emo-boy phase for good. I’m more optimistic, now that I’m outta the funk. To the people who helped cheer me up or asked me about it, my sincere thanks.

I’m also glad that there were a few things that distracted me these past few days. Most have been good diversions, while others have been barely passable time-killers. I finally saw the season-ender of Desperate Housewives, and sadly, while there have been really good moments with some of my favorite characters these past months, I’m just not that impressed by the show anymore. I can still relate to some of them (Andrew! Bree! And, to some extent, Edie’s nephew!), which is always a good sign that something’s being done right, but it seems that the storyline outcomes have gotten much easier to predict and there hasn’t been anything to match the mysteries that made its initial season riveting. Still, it’s good to just listen to Mary Alice’s narration and how that ties up a theme every episode. As for the cliffhanger, well, too bad, I like that particular character. But knowing her final fate, admittedly, is something that I can’t wait months for.

Oh, by the way, last Saturday, Benedicky and I picked up my stuff at DK. I got a few action figures, some characters that starred in the comic book 52. The finely sculpted and painted DC Direct toys are lovely, especially Animal Man and Booster Gold, which are equally handsome and sexy figs. They’re great additions to my expanding JLA set, and the good thing is, I got ‘em at a much, much cheaper price (almost P400 less than the mall store price each!). Hey, I just noticed that Booster and Animal Man resemble each other a bit (they both have goggles/visors which connect to similarly cut headgears, are blond, and don’t wear belts). Oh, and yeah, Booster has a Skeets accessory! I didn’t expect that.

One of the recent comic books I got from the shop was issue three of Illuminati. Boy, that was disappointing. The first two issues were actually good, but to retcon the Beyonder’s history in such a way that contradicts every story that made plausible sense of the character’s existence is just a case of fixing what ain’t broke. This was really unsatisfying. The Beyonder was an interesting character, and to disregard so much of the old stories is just wrong. But I’m hoping that this confusing secret origin isn’t final.

Also read the latest Buffy issue, which has gotten really weird, art-wise. But oh my god! The story’s typically Joss Whedon. Questions were raised (What’s Ethan up to? Who’s Buffy's secret admirer?) and previous enigmas were answered (Oh my god! He’s alive! He’s Amy’s boyfriend?!). Oh, if only this came out every week. I still remember how excited I got, every time a new ep aired over a local channel every Monday night.

Whedon’s also currently writing Runaways. I liked the way Molly confronted the Punisher in the latest ish, heehee. Hmm, I wonder who those two new characters are. I'm guessing that they’re probably related to the team somehow, maybe future versions of some currently dead characters? There’s a time travel angle in this new story, so maybe that’ll eventually explain if or how they’re kindred.

Beer Guy lent me Gail Simone’s second to the last ish of Birds of Prey too. Love this series, and the Secret Six guest appearance. I have yet to see the conclusion of the arc, which resurrected a female Justice Leaguer. I think it’s available now, though. I love the fact that this all-girl team book has been an enjoyable, unique ride during Simone’s run, and after she leaves, I hope it won’t lose any of that consistently strong female characterization or the series’ fun spirit.

Ah, it’s the sixth month of the year already. Note to self: reorganize, you fool! Take a break when you need to, yeah, but get on with it. There's a list of things to do, and a calendar to mark.

A Chance to Dance Along the Light of Day

Sometimes, I just lie awake at night, just wondering about certain what-might-be’s and mapping out past decisions that landed me where I am today. I don’t dwell on things too much, nah, but I just wonder about how random people connect, and how all relationships look from an all-knowing vantage point. In The L Word, they have a whiteboard that charts the increasing sexual liaisons of a fictional lesbian community at a certain place. The social networking sites in our reality don’t have viewable, scaled models of all possible connections, but I imagine that they might look like unending layers and layers of tangled and intricate cobweb designs. That’s a lot of people who want to be happy, or rich, heard, cuddled.

I guess I’m re-assessing my life’s direction again. I dunno. They say that Scorpios are truth-seekers, and I suppose that’s quite true in my case. It’s hard when I’m bothered, when I don’t feel like facing reality and I just want to escape, though. That’s especially true yesterday morning; I kept waking up almost every hour, feeling anxious about how the day would unfold, and worried about the things I needed to deal with.

I wanted to get away from the routine and enjoy the day differently. But I was just stuck there, tossing and turning, when it looked like I wouldn’t be able to go out, partly because of the crazy weather, and partly because company wouldn’t be available. I wanted to see people, listen to music, maybe drink a little. I didn’t feel like my usual duty-bound self, not the person who’s always concerned with making his time count or leaving his mark.

Was I such a deprived, repressed kid? I think so. I think I’m trying to make up for lost time. I just want to be free a little, every now and then. But when I felt bummed out, I just stayed in my bed and tried to sleep through the hours. It didn’t make me feel better, but it rested me enough to do other things like watching episodes of 24 (the sixth season of which surprisingly feels super-dull and utterly rehashed, so far), and two DVDs of movies I’ve been meaning to see for a long time. Those distracted me enough to not think about places I’d rather be, and when that got boring, I just crashed in my bed again.

Slept for about forty minutes 9 p.m.-ish and had a semi-sex dream, details of which will not be mentioned here. I felt real hungry when I woke up; it was one of those dreams that felt like it ran the duration of several days. I’m still a little restless, but it’s a good thing, I think, that I didn’t drink alcohol at all the whole day, even when I really wanted to. I dunno how long this uneasy feeling will last.

But I hope to partake of some earthly pleasures soon. Need to think more positive, cheerful thoughts. That's probably my equivalent to praying, minus the worship. Whoa, wait, it’s Saturday already. I didn’t notice the week breeze by. I think I was still processing things from last weekend.

Heroes Past

Some film and TV fantasy heroes, caricatured five years ago for a short-lived magazine. I illustrated it to accompany an article I did.

After the Boys of Summer Have Gone

Rolling Thunder

Oh, what a week. Summer Oh Seven’s done, but it still gets so fricking hot when it’s not raining. And when it’s raining, it doesn’t stop. Ugh. My emotions were as messed up as the weather the past few days, but I managed to juggle work with play, so I’m okay. I’m able to unwind a little and tune out stuff like termites, infrared home inspection systems, and showbiz assignments when I’m not working and writing about them. And I know that I felt my self-imposed vacation was over last week, but I was able to slip back briefly into my “alcoholidays” (a word coined by Beer Guy that Benedict admittedly hates because it’s clever and he didn’t think of it). I didn’t do anything moronic while slightly inebriated at certain times this past week, I think, so everything’s good.

I finally saw the Heroes season-ender, and I just had to take down Suresh’s narration by the end of the episode, which I felt connected and summed up what I was feeling about my direction for most of the month:

“So much struggle for meaning, for purpose, but in the end, we find this only in each other: our shared experience with the fantastic, and the mundane; the simple human need to find a kindred, to connect, and to know in our hearts that we are not alone.”

Cool, cool. I think that just described my whole summer. It was strange that fellow blogger and old friend David, whose review I finally read a few hours after I watched the ep and transcribed those words, also quoted them (but we punctuated it differently). More on the episode in a bit.

No Fate But What We Make

And so, on to some endings. Spoilers ahead.

52- After one year, the comics series finally ends and has some big revelations about the post-Infinite Crisis re-setting of reality and this so-called “New Earth.” I really like how many of DC’s books have that contemporary, modern feel to them, but I’m not sure how to look at their characters’ histories because I don’t know which happened for real this time, which events were erased, which continuity gaffes were fixed, etcetera. Hypertime, Zero Hour, Crisis, Countdown… It’s confusing to really think about it as a whole.

But that said, I enjoyed this series a lot. I was touched to see Ralph and Sue Dibney reunited at last. I loved Renee and the Question’s shared journey, as well as Black Adam’s descent into madness. Yeah, the World War III spinoff series fixed other things rather rushedly, but this main title was a well-handled yearlong experiment that nicely developed characters that didn’t seem interesting before, at least to me. Good, meaty mainstream reading.

Heroes- Some like it, some loathe it, but the season finale of “Volume One” was just okay for me. Well, after much buildup, it's the prophesied catastrophe episode. Or is it? We finally get to see an expected last-minute change of heart, and some cliffhangers concerning four pivotal characters. It was a little disappointing that Mrs. Petrelli seems like she’s being groomed as an Irina Derevko-like character, in that she’s this cold and calculating old creep after all, but well, let’s hope it’s done well next season. Mr. Bennett, whom I assumed was the show’s main bad guy in the first few episodes, conversely, has proven again that he’s actually on the side of the angels. His first name is finally revealed as Noah, not so subtly implying that he may be instrumental in gathering together the superhumans in the near future.

A possible big bad is hinted at by the Caliban-like tracker kid Molly, so that might be something to look forward to in terms of new foes.

And again, Peter and Sylar meet up, and beat each other up quickly (Pete lands four punches). But that climactic battle, which involved the other supers, was really short, and could’ve looked smoother. Now that all the surviving characters have met up, though, I hope season two will bring them and the concept into new territory (previously unseen in TV, comics, or elsewhere).

Legion of Superheroes- You know, this is no Justice League Unlimited, and it’s not as gritty or focused as Batman Beyond, but it’s not a bad animated series at all. Young Clark Kent time-travels to the future and becomes a valued member of the 30somethingth century’s premier superteam. It’s fun, at least most of the eps were, and the season finale, where the team tries to stop the Sun-Eater, is especially cool. The particular sacrifice in that episode may not come as a surprise to people familiar with the pre-Crisis Legion, but it’s nonetheless effective and sad.

Torchwood- I finished this a while back. All I can say is, wow, that’s the gayest scifi show ever. No kidding. This kinda feels like a weird melding of The X-Files and Angel, so it’s periodically campy, and also treacherously dark. But the show is geared for a more mature audience, so it can get extra-kinky, sometimes. This is a spinoff of Doctor Who, which I really have to see soon (it’s a tossup between that and Battlestar Galactica, but we’ll see, maybe I can watch alternately). The openly gay Captain Jack Harkness first appeared in that series. Torchwood gets puzzling and crazy from time to time, but it’s something unique. It was quite entertaining to see the first season focus on these mysterious new super-science agent characters. I liked Ianto the bi-boy the most, and that was one moving kiss in the season finale.

A Dream That’s Barely Half Awake

I’m ending the post with lyrics once again, this time by Aimee Mann and her great ‘80s band ‘Til Tuesday. First discovered this six years ago, and it’s gotten renewed meaning and sentimental value to me since. Am loving it more than ever, as it accompanies this period in my life appropriately. Ah, I'm feeling strangely fine.

Coming Up Close

One night in Iowa, he and I in a borrowed car
Went driving in the summer, promises in every star
Out in the distance I could hear some people laughing
I felt my heart beat back a weekend’s worth of sadness

There was a farmhouse that had long since been deserted
We stopped and carved our hearts into the wooden surface
We thought just for an instant we could see the future
We thought for once we knew what really was important

Coming up close
Everything sounds like “welcome home,” come home
And oh by the way
Don’t you know that I can make a dream that’s barely half awake come true
I wanted to say
But anything I could’ve said I felt somehow that you already knew

We got back in the car and listened to a Dylan tape
We drove around the fields until it started getting late
Well I went back to my hotel room on the highway
And he just got back in his car and drove away

Coming up close
Everything sounds like “welcome home,” come home
And oh by the way
Don’t you know that I can make a dream that’s barely half awake come true
I wanted to say
But anything I could’ve said I felt somehow that you already knew

I'm Seventeen, Been Through It All

Boys do fall in love. Or something.

Lookit that. I was a barely legal college “jock.” And I had cool hair. That jacket was from my senior year in high school. It must’ve been cold and rainy back then; otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered bringing it. I didn't wear it often.

The cropped pic below, meanwhile, was taken during a family gathering, Medya Noche, if I’m not mistaken, back in the day. Ah, the era of the instamatic camera, a time when people actually put their one-hour developed, matted pics in actual plastic-sleeved albums. Found these two pictures in separate ones a few days ago. I kind of missed how light I must’ve been, and how I was able to get away with a lot of mistakes back then. But only briefly.

This second pic below (click on image to enlarge) was taken a few months after the one above, and I distinctly remember that it was one of the worst years of my life, but my personal deus ex machina came just before it ended. So I’m looking kinda relieved, albeit less innocent, in that picture. Still, things were much, much, simpler, and I kinda miss that sometimes, but again, only fleetingly. I’m stuck in the here and now--make that happily stuck in the here and now--where people who matter prefer me as I am.

I like my old hair, though. I got into new wave just a year before, and I must’ve emulated some of the bands’ hairstyles subconsciously. Also, I know I only wore that in the house, but my god, the shorts.

I was amused for hours two nights ago, just looking at a bunch of college pics, as well as those from my “lost” years, eras in my life that felt like a blur, for one reason or another. I remember voices out of those photos, familiar words that resurface and romanticize the good times. And, as I was looking back, I wonder what other people I know now must’ve been doing back then, and how their lives were unfolding, parallel to mine.

Thank You Clarity

Strange Love

Meme time! Gibbs tagged me:

“Each player of this game starts with 6 weird things about himself or herself. People who get tagged need to write a blog entry of their own as well as state the rule clearly. In the end, you need to tag 6 people as well and list their names. Don’t forget to let them know they’ve been tagged!”

6 Weird Things About Me!

1. I do phone interviews on my bed (I work on my bed!), on my tummy, and with all my notes spread all over. It’s the comfiest way for me to do it. I’m glad that I don’t have to work elsewhere and dress up when I’m doing articles and press releases. I’m barefoot and practically just in my underwear, with the electric fan aimed, full-blast, at me. It feels good to just not shirt up while working, especially during these summer months. Sorry for the mental image. Only three or four of you can appreciate that.

2. I have a rattan chair near my bed where I put some of my assorted things, and stuff I don't know where to put. It’s been that way for about two years. See the pic below. I’d play with those action figures, pose ‘em and stuff, but after a month or two, I brush off the dust and put them in my toy shelf. Maybe the weird thing is, I don’t clean it as often as I should, so it gathers dust. There are scraps of paper and plastic on that chair that need to be organized or disposed of. Although I did arrange my things yesterday and those toys are now in the shelf.

3. The three sports I excelled in were dodgeball (grade four), softball, and arnis (college). I suck at all the other sports equally. I don’t like basketball, and it was embarrassing to even recall how awful I was at it. Hey, I was young and was trying to fit in.

4. I have low Emotional Quotient, as a friend pointed out just a few months ago. I must’ve failed a marshmallow test as a kid, or something. I open up and read comic books while I walk sometimes, or look at comic book spoilers in forums. But I’ve managed to wait for the actual issues. I still get surprised. Sometimes, I have the compulsion to complete a Marvel Legends set so soon after they hit the stores.

5. I don’t feel the need to join family reunions, or other gatherings like relative’s birthdays, or weddings. I guess that’s pretty normal for me. I’m just not into it. There are some okay people there, but I’m not really raring to go and meet up with them. That’s just how I’m wired, I guess. The standard interrogation questions, those involving marriage, financial stability, and weight gain are not my idea of a good time, either.

6. Sometimes, I obsess over people and things that are unworthy of me. Of course, that statement sounds sourgrape-y, but, yep, it’s a coping mechanism. Enough said.

Tag, Pam, Max, Carl, Jason, and Cams. You’re it!

Buffy and Brandy

Went through my Buffy and Angel CDs and watched five or so random episodes last night. Checked out some really memorable parts too. I’m reading the new Buffy comic book series, the official eighth season, so it got me into looking at the series and its spinoff again. I can still sympathize with Xander in “The Zeppo,” feel Cordy’s anguish in “The Wish,” and get entertained by post-Sunnydale Andrew’s antics in the Angel ep “Damaged.” It’s rare for a TV show to have such a large roster of likeable characters, but Buffy and Angel had those you can truly love.

After some time, I finally gave in and opened the brandy bottle I was keeping and drank while watching. I just did so directly from the bottle like the stereotypical drunk. After drinking about two inches off of the contents, I began feeling drowsy, and it kind of enhanced the agitation I was feeling just hours earlier. Slightly depressed, I decided to stop, and kept the bottle. Beer Guy advised not to drink alone, as he always does, “because alcohol ain’t good that way.” Well, just say when, Beer Guy. Anyway, the brandy tasted okay, and its warmth and somewhat fizzy quality felt like superminty mouthwash, but it kinda tasted like vodka mixed with cough syrup. The alcohol content made me feel heavy in no time at all.

Boy, Interruption

Hah, I just discovered my old student’s log book from way back. I was 14 and in my sophomore high school year. Holy jeez, I was a young overachiever! It’s strange, I’d forgotten about most of the contests I joined, but I folded pages and wrote down on those dates that I won in:

July 22- St. Benedict Poster/Slogan-making contest (2^nd Place): I came up with “Ours to Fulfill is His worthy mission, for Glorification, Redemption and Salvation.” I think I won a “Footprints in the Sand” plaque, or something.

August 31- Career week: Nation Rebuilding Poster/Slogan-making contest (rank not written): “If you strive to be the best, anything’s possible. A nation will rise anew.” Wow, I don’t remember what this is at all. I must’ve drawn buildings and a sunset, haha.

November 9- Drug Abuse Prevention Poster/Slogan-making contest, Muntinlupa (1^st Place): Of course, my winning entry had a young guy who was active in school and sports. It was colorful! Heehee. I remember then-Mayor Ignacio Bunye handing me my prizes, which were, if I remember correctly, P300 and a gold medal. I so wanted to give part of the money to my adviser but she politely refused, and was probably amused by my awkward expression of generosity.

November 25- “My Country” (special award, or something): I remember that this got me a nicely sculptured wire trophy, which was shaped like the line doodle of a dove. My oslo-sized drawing was exhibited at an art gallery in Paranaque whose name escapes me. Of course, the drawing had comics-inspired sensibilities, and had the usual patriotic elements collaged together--People Power I, the farmer on his kalabaw, a dove with an olive branch, the Rizal monument—all bursting forth from the Philippine flag’s rays. Naturally, the blue and red parts are in the background. Gawd.

January 31- “The Role of the BAS (Benedictine Abbey School) Family in the Peace and Progress of Our Nation” poster-making contest (rank not written): I don’t remember what this is, but I think this contest was held during the Santo Nino festivities.

February 12- “Kapatiran at Pagkakaisa: Kalayaan ang Muling Pagbangon ng Ating Bansa” poster-making contest. (1^st place): Oh my god, this was held at La Salle Greenhills. I wonder where Benedict was during that time? Heheh. I think, as soon as I got home, I sheepishly told my mom, “First place.” And I remember reading a bunch of Marvel comics at the supermarket soon after.

March 24- Recognition Day (Gold Medal, overall art award for the schoolyear): After the ceremony, my parents brought me to the nearby McDonald’s outlet. Yeah, I know, but it was new then and it hasn’t sprouted into hundreds of branches yet.

The next year, I just won one award for an interschool art competition held at La Salle Alabang, and the year after that I think I won in about five school contests. I didn’t have any awards or anything in college, as I was too busy experiencing life as a horny boy.

Halos puro jugjugan lang ang nasa isip.

When My Dreams Just Move Along

The past few weeks have been fun and surreal. It’s like I’ve been able to let go of some responsibilities and burdens from time to time, which is good for someone like me. I’m a late bloomer when it comes to certain things, so this past month or so has made me feel like I’m fun again (if I ever was that). It feels like I'm 17 again, but in a different way. But the vacation, I think, has ended. I’m back to this reality again, back to worrying about things that have to be done. And, whoa, it started raining just now. How freaking symbolic.

Not that I wasn’t really doing anything; I was working in between exploring and researching, so I’m all good. I guess I just loosened up a bit, and I'm seeing some things more clearly now. There are other things to regret too, but nah, whatever.

For the past eight or so days, I’ve taken in different kinds of alcoholic beverages, and I must admit that figuring out my limits was exciting. I can handle it up to a point, I discovered, but well, party time’s over. Today, I’m not feeling good, because of some things that have come to my attention, and others that need to be done. I’m glad I’m not drinking now, while I’m feeling this way, as it might lead to something I might regret. But I must admit that I’ve been quickly imagining the taste of beer in my mouth, probably triggered by assorted stimuli right now, so I’m also missing it. But, no, I don’t need to drink, at least not today, and not when I’m this way.

I’m signing off with the words to a song I’m rediscovering (Kate Bush’s cover of “Rocket Man”), and the lyrics of another that I’ve been aching to hear over and over again (Death Cab for Cutie’s “I Will Folow You Into The Dark,” which I first saw performed in “Conan O’Brien” last year). Love, love, love.

Ah, summer, you bittersweet bitch.

- - - - - - - - - -

Rocket Man

She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour, nine a.m.
And I’m gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife
It’s lonely here in space
On such a timeless flight

And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
Till touchdown brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no
I’m the rocket man
Rocket man, burning up his fuse up here alone

Mars ain’t the kind of place you raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job five days a week
A rocket man, rocket man

And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
Till touchdown brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no
I’m the rocket man
Rocket man, burning up his fuse up here alone

- - - - - - - - - -

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Love of mine
Someday you will die
But I’ll be close behind
I’ll follow you into the dark
No blinding lights or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of spark

If heaven and hell decide they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no’s in their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school, as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me, “Son, fear is the heart of love”
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no’s in their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark

You and me
Have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes
Are all worn down, the time for sleep is now
But it’s nothing to cry about ‘cause we’ll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms

In the Grasp of Dusk and Summer

We All Look Like We Feel

Marky Beer Guy, his co-worker and I were at Swiss Deli Friday night to watch Mozzie play. Another band, Kaze, performed before them, and they were also good. Their music is Celtic/pop-rock-inspired, which I find really interesting, plus they had a violin among their instruments to add that folky feel. Cool! Wait, flashback, I remember those talented Conservatory of Music students playing with their fiddles just across our building back in college, and man, that truly is one sexy instrument. Anyway, Mozzie had a keyboard this time and I like that it was used to accompany that heartfelt, haunting ballad Pam sang (sorry, I dunno the title!). It was a fun acoustic set; I had some beers and ate some tasty pasta while they played. Benedict very briefly dropped by to hand some CDs that I had him rip and burn for me (Burn for me baby! Sorry, can’t resist putting that in). He had to leave and catch some z’s for the anime event in Cubao (where he would later win Best Male Cosplayer for his Bumblebee costume, so congrats McPorklet!). After Mozzie’s set, there was a guy who was a comedy act; he didn’t sing but he was funny just playing with the guitar and telling personal anecdotes. He was followed by a solo singer, Marge, and her gifted guitarist. Some time later, almost everybody was singing along to the repertoire of power ballads and rock songs, and Mozzie’s “It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over” cover. It was fun, it was crazy, it was a night unlike any other. And I woke up the next day, in the afternoon, with what can only be called a hangover. My first ever. Ow.

Seen the Future and It Will Be…

With very little time left, Hiro and Ando must find a way to return to the present and save New York in Heroes. So, more spoilers for those who’ve yet to see it. Love this alternate future story! Kind of reminded me of the Buffy episode where Sunnydale turned into Bizarro-land. While this What If/ Elseworlds-ish episode was really exciting; it’s not totally unpredictable or anything, but it showed some of the coolest things. Kickass Five Years Later Hiro! Claire the engaged brunette waitress! Peter’s scarred face! Peter dating Nikki! Peter versus Sylar! But crap. Like in the episode where Sylar “killed” Peter, their fight here was so short! It was very cool to see them confronting each other, with glowy new powers, but their big fight scene happened off-screen. Surely some of the episode’s budget could’ve been allotted for a lengthier special effects scene? But it was nice to finally see the different characters interact. Wow. A few eps to go before the season-ender. Utter coolness.

Stuck Between a Place and a Hard Rock

Around eight people were eating at the resto where a friend and I spent my gift check prize for his birthday meal last Sunday. It was strange, because I haven’t seen it that spacious and un-peopled before. We had the waiter calculate the amount we were spending while we ordered, as it’s a one-time gift check. The food was totally unhealthy but, damn, it was superfugging yummy! We were able to get a big platter of nachos with cheese and the usual garnish on it. We had a huge, huge serving of “appetizers” (three thick spring rolls, salad, hash browns with bacon bits, big onion rings, and fried chicken slices and chicken wings), as well as a macaroni and cheese plate with sliced chicken toppings. Yuuuuummmm. We also got pina coladas (woohoo, liquor!), and a vanilla shake. There was still some amount remaining so we ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries for takeout. Heart-stopping, but tummy-filling. Oh, and I finally got to see how Kim Carnes looked like, as the elevated TV’s in the place showed her old “Bette Davis Eyes” video. And while eating, I discovered an awesome song by John Mellencamp, “Walk Tall,” which had a video that was unforgettably touching. So, so lovely.

Freestyle in Trance

Fooled myself into believing that I can handle three different alcoholic drinks and not feel anything different. But I found out that it was a mistake to finish three in a row without really pausing, when you only had two hours sleep. It was election day; after voting at the old public school (my, the candidate list is populated by a few turncoats and the same old characters), I headed to the nearby convenience store for some booze and soft drinks. Got home and sampled the next ones in my tasting agenda: San Mig Strong Ice (“a high-alcohol, ice-filtered brew that hits your senses in a way that no other beer will”), Kristov Vodka Cruiser (raspberry flavor, I think it tastes like Tempra, yikes), and Colt 45 Premium Strong Beer (6.5% alcohol). I felt the combined kick not long after finishing ‘em, and I randomly played a CD (which turned out to be an Underworld album). I felt myself getting numb and unusually giddy, like I was aware, but not totally there. I wrote a text message about it (which I hope I didn’t send to anyone): “World’s spinning & techno aint helping & I wanna write about this shit hehe jesus im hard haha ok wait im getting all heavy on my bed think I’l nap a bit” ...Holy crapper. Anyway, the next day, I tried out a Carlsberg and a Lone Star Light, which sorta tasted the same. No weird out-of-body jaunt this time. Hmm, my “research” continues.

Squeeze, Sigh, Twinkle in Your Eye

Had a Beer, Now I Hear You Calling Out for Me

So that’s how it tastes like.

They served us brandy in wine glasses during the end of a press lunch. The event was for the launch of a new TV series, a local Amazing Race-ish reality game show to be aired over cable. It was a nice coincidence that the series is being sponsored by a popular liquor brand. I reluctantly joined a contest that required participants to rummage for dogtags on the floor while blindfolded, but well, I’m glad I did. Each member of our hastily formed team, made up of people from different publications, won a P2500 gift check that can be spent at the café-resto where the event was held (so there’s a nice birthday dinner for one of my friends, soon).

But again, the brandy. I like it. It had a distinct slightly sweet taste and aroma, and it felt warm and tingly as I drank it. Nice. The busboys were picking up a few untouched wine glasses as soon as the event finished, so I felt a little sad that they were going to waste. But just as I was leaving, Mrs. V. and her kids handed me a bottle of the supposedly “better,” premium stuff, still boxed and bagged in a small beige backpack. Excited, I immediately texted Beer Guy Mark. We’ll be sampling that brandy soon, one of these days, when we’re not working. Giddy.

Went to a grocery near the jeep terminal before heading home. Like last time, I bought two caffeine-free softdrinks and a can of beer. Got a Red Horse Extra Strong, which I soon guzzled down while showering (I know, John sez that sounded real porny). That tasted and felt nice. A few days before that, I drank San Mig Light, which was just okay. It didn’t taste any different, but the label says it has less calories than the regular beer. Also, last week while watching Veronica Mars, I drank a Smirnoff Premium Black Ice vodka mixed drink. Beer Guy texted last night, probably proud--or a little worried?--that he “created a monster!” Heheh…

Well, I can handle it. And I haven't really tried downing several at a time. I’m trying to differentiate one brand from the other at this point. So becoming an alcoholic isn’t bloody likely any time soon (I know cautionary tales in the form of relatives, friends’ relatives, and Party of Five’s Bailey Salinger, and to a lower degree, Marvel’s Tony Stark and Carol Danvers). Maybe it’s a phase. I dunno. Maybe I’m getting into it partly because of the weather (I’m downing maybe over a gallon of cold liquids a day because of the heat), and also because of curiosity. Was never into it, but now, yeah, I’m starting to dig it.

By the way, “I had a beer and now I hear you calling out for me” is a line off of Tom Waits' “I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You.” How apt. I’m not falling in love with alcohol, at least maybe not yet, haha, but I’m discovering that I do like it, so far.

Tried out a Heineken Lager Beer earlier this evening. That one was just okay; it mostly tasted like some of the other brands. I’m drinking a San Mig Super Dry as I’m typing this. “Clean, clear taste,” the can says.

Ooh, yessiree. Me likey.

Mozzie-rella Cheers

Mozzie Gig!

Catch the band this Friday, May 11, 8-ish, at Swiss Deli, Pioneer Street (near Globe). They got new originals! Not sure if it’s an acoustic gig or not. But I’m curious how they sound plugged. That’s P200, with some part of the amount consumable. Go watchy!

It’s Animal, Animal Magic

Yep, The Logans are a clawful

This group shot was inspired by a temporary team of Exiles (from Tony Bedard’s fun run) composed of Wolverines from different dimensions. Oh, I just noticed that I don’t have the brown costume Wolvie (which was the coolest one in my opinion) and the Weapon X Not Really Nekkid version. Speaking of action figures, one of my favorites appears unmasked below. Yep, that’s Benedicky sans the helmet-mask, posing near a four seasons decoration thingie. The pic is dark enough to obscure his secret identity. Heheh…

Meet Your Storm

Song intermission. Am loving this old song by Vienna Teng. I included it in a compilation I gave to friends early this week. I’m just feeling it after some interesting conversations and reflections about my--and other people’s--turning points.

Harbor

we’re here where the daylight begins.
the fog on the streetlight slowly thins
water on water’s the way
the safety of shoreline fading away

sail your sea
meet your storm
all I want is to be your harbor
the light in me
will guide you home
all I want is to be your harbor

fear is the brightest of signs
the shape of the boundary you leave behind
so sing all your questions to sleep
the answers are out there in the drowning deep

sail your sea
meet your storm
all I want is to be your harbor
the light in me
will guide you home
all I want is to be your harbor

you’ve got a journey to make
there’s your horizon to chase
so go far beyond where we stand
no matter the distance
I’m holding your hand

Spider-Manic Depressive

Spoilers. Yup, Stan Lee's appearance in the movie made me and a friend shudder. It’s gotten distracting since X-Men 3; he just sticks out these days. But what made me chortle was when the non-entity butler suddenly handed out important, heart-changing information to Harry Osborn, just like that! Also, the forgiveness theme gets uber-killed, as Sandman and Peter Parker’s separate dramas get unduly over-complicated and overly sentimental. Everybody hurts, yeah, but you just don’t feel that done properly here. How sad. And also, I was hoping that Venom would have a cooler, monstrously augmented voice. But he still sounds like Eric Foreman from That ‘70s Show. Bummer. And as far as the misbehavior angle is concerned, at least Superman, when he went “bad” in his forgettable third movie, he got some implied, off-screen action. Here, one of the ways symbiote-influenced Spidey behaves badly? He takes advantage of his neighbor’s generous servings of milk and cookies! That’s not even a metaphor. Sap.

However Long I Stay

Typically normal summer week. It got a little weird in some parts, but it’s great that I’m mostly able to rest and stall with work a little. Not a lot of things worth mentioning except, perhaps, how Spider-Man 3 got weird, story-wise. But I can watch it one more time. Hm, what else to blog about? Oh, oh, I gotta mention this before I forget, I just saw the video Gerry made for the Komiks Congress (which sadly, didn't show it). He interviewed me and a bunch of other indie creators for that last Feb. I’m glad to be part of it even if I only appeared briefly.

Hey, I can write about that MRT trip last Monday afternoon. The train was fricking packed, as in everyone’s personal spaces have overlapped. You’re almost intimate with people you won’t even dream of humping in a million, zillion years. But there was one person that was the exception… um, I’m shutting up ‘bout that now. Well, yeah that was really uncomfortable, and I just hated that there was this other person who was breathing--exhaling warm air--down my neck for the length of three or four train stops. Guuuhhh. I doused the back of my neck with alcohol as soon as I got out, and washed it after with liquid antibacterial soap.

Anyhoo, back home, things are pretty normal. Been listening to stuff I ripped from my own CDs, and made mix CDs with a pop-folk-rock roster. Will give them to some friends when I get the chance. Watched a new Veronica Mars ep last night (Weevil got fat! Lamb does the robot!), and I’m just stunned at some “oh my god, that’s so simple, it’s clever” moments. Been barraged with new videos, including cool ones of Dashboard Confessional and Snow Patrol, and listened to a borrowed Angels and Airwaves CD, which is way awesome. Almost every song by the ex-Blink 182-er, Tom Delonge, sounds like a pounding, multi-layered new wave anthem.

Also been feeling creative and ambitious lately, like I wanna make my own movie. But not really. I’d rather make my own comic book again, where I have absolute control over everything. Haha, I’m a damn control freak.

Whatever Words I Say

I’m also feeling like gooey mush again. At least, tonight I am. The following part of this post is kinda, sorta inspired by Alanis’ “Unsent” and Midge Ure’s “Dear God,” but it’s not really about anything heavy. It’s the stuff I’m hoping that certain people get to read some day. But this ain’t a rant post. I think I’m now at this point where I’m looking at my life from the outside, and trying to appreciate it more. Like I said, gooey mush.

- - - -
Dear Mom,

I can’t begin to imagine how occasionally hard life must be for you. Well, I guess I can speak for the other kids when I say that we’re here for you, even when it doesn’t feel like that sometimes. Oh, and thank you for that history book seven years ago.
- - - -
Leah,

Among our classmates’ works, your words in the school magazine appealed to me the most and your gift for that was one of the things that inspired me to write. I’m assuming you’re still writing, wherever you are. I'd make you a Friendster testimonial, if you're in there.
- - - -
Hey Joe,

Remember when you read my palm a few years ago? It’s creepy, but the stuff you mentioned have become true. I still believe that I hold the future in my own hands, but damn, that’s some strange talent you got.
- - - -
Dad,

Thank you for talking to me and expressing interest in my work, and also for asking me about the definitions of words that sound alien to you, from time to time. I’d like to think that by reaching out, you’re trying to say that you’re proud of me, and also, of the person I’ve become.
- - - -
Dear Cams,

Hey, glad that you’re recovering. Get some more rest, and just think about people and things that really matter. You’re not alone.
- - - -
Dear __________,

I got the Christmas card many years back, but I guess you understood why I didn’t wanna respond anymore, and maybe complicate things with your spouse. I hope you’re doing great over there, though.
- - - -
Dear __________,

Aba, nag-skinnydipping. Plano mo yatang maging Leonardo Litton. Pero sige, keep it up.
- - - -
Dear ___________,

To borrow from Jackson Browne, “Please don’t confront me with my failures/ I have not forgotten them.” And to borrow from Heather Nova, “Nothing heals me like you do.”
- - - -
Dear future Oliver,

When you read this some time from now, I hope you’re good and are happier than ever. I hope you’re dealing with people better, and that you’ve grown to treat those dearest to you more fairly. I really hope you’ve gone past your doubts and fears, and that you’re finally working on something that’s giving you a different kind of satisfaction, while still doing other things that keep you on your toes. Oh, and I’m optimistic that the sex is still great.