Destination Unknown

This is totally ramblingvirus’s fault. He didn’t tag me but it was
such an awesome meme I can’t help not stealing it, kind of like a kid
in the candy shop. If anyone starts talking about music I light up,
even if it’s "Original Motion Picture Soundtrack of Nipples and
Potatoes". Anyway, if you think tagging games are faggotry then you can
come back some other time when I will write deeper analysis of
faggotry. If you pronounce meme as meh-meh (just like I do) just to
mock it then you can, of course, also come back some other day. But the
rest, the rest of you who want some unadulterated sexy (what the hell
is unadulterated sexy?) and insightful analysis of my relationship with
my ipod, read on.

Lyrics are in italics.

The RULES:
1. Open your music library (iTunes, Media Player, iPod, Winamp etc.)
2. Put it on shuffle.
3. Press play.
4. For every question/subject, type the song that’s playing.
5. When you go to the next question, press the next button.
6. Don’t lie and pretend you’re cool.

*************
1. Opening credits:

Return to Forever - Chick Corea

What the, just the beginning and already I’m going to return to forever? Awesome song though.

2. Waking up:

Turn Me On - Norah Jones

Oy. It’s only morning!

                                                 Like a flower
Waiting to bloom
Like a lightbulb
In a dark room
I’m just sittin here waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on

3. First Day of School:

‘S Wonderful - Joao Gilberto

Not bad, although I doubt I was this optimistic when I started school.

S wonderful, s marvellous
You should care for me!
S awful nice, s paradise,
S what I love to see.
Youve made my life so glamorous,
You cant blame me for feeling amorous!
Oh s wonderful, s marvellous,
That you should care for me!

4. Falling in love:

Johnny Came Lately - Joe Henderson

What on earth?! I ain’t gonna fall in love with no johnny!

5. First song:

Peace - Norah Jones

Cool!

There’s a place that I know
Where the sycamores grow
And daffodils have their friend
Where the cares of the day
Seem to slowly fade away
In the glow of the evening sand
Peace when the days stand

6. Breaking up:

Little Melonae - Miles Davis

I don’t even want to analyze this. Who, who is Melonae?

 

7. Prom:

Up From The Skies - Jimi Hendrix

Yeah! Though there would be very deep questions to ask your prom date, eh?

                                                 I just want to talk to you
I won’t uh, do you no harm
I just want to know about your different lives
On this is here people farm
I heard some of you got your families
Living in cages tall and cold
And some just stay there and dust away
Past the age of old.
Is this true ?
Please let me talk to you.

I just wanna know about
The rooms behind your minds
Uh do I see a vacuum there
Or am I going blind ?
Or is it just uh, remains of vibrations
And echoes long ago ?
Uh things like "Love the world" and uh
Uh "Let your fancy flow"
Is this true ?
Please let me talk to you
Let me talk to you.

8. Life:

Happy-Go-Lucky-Local (Night Train) - Oscar Peterson

Seems apt at least, but I never found myself that carefree.

9. Mental breakdown:

millionaire - musiq

That really doesn’t make sense.

 

10. Driving:

There is no Greater Love - Richard Groove Holmes

There is, though.

11. Flashback:

Seven Years - Norah Jones

As
much as I love the song (it’s my favorite Norah Jones’s song), I don’t
think it makes a lot of sense. My past, for one, does not include
little girls. ^_^

                                                 Spinning, laughing, dancing to
her favorite song
A little girl with nothing wrong
Is all alone

Eyes wide open
Always hoping for the sun
And she’ll sing her song to anyone
that comes along

Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just fallin to the ground
Without a sound

Crooked little smile on her face
Tells a tale of grace
Thats all her own

12. Getting back together:

Say Your Prayers - Gang Starr

The lyrics is all kinds of awesome, and I’d definitely say that to my ex. Wait, what? I have an ex?!

                                                 So many things will happen that one can’t explain
You find yourself saying "who me", time and again
They say what goes around, comes around
ahun, so think about it while you’re messing up clown
A mother’s love and a father’s concern
Here is the reason you should listen and learn
‘Cause quick schemes and fast living can kill ya
I know how the excitement and danger can thrill ya
But take it from somebody who knows
‘Cause after all the highs, you’re gonna feel all the lows
This is why knowledge of self is essential
‘Cause if you don’t have it, you may simply go mental
See, life is not a thing to be toyed wit
‘Cause every second, another dream is destroyed wit
The systematic plan devised to erase us
And straight to hell is where they’re trying to take us
But never fold and hold back your fears
Have a strong mind and try to say your prayers

13. Wedding:

Solitude - Sonny Rollins

I see it this way: When we marry, we’re gonna be alone facing the world. It wouldn’t be so bad.

14.Birth of a child:

Blues for Mama - Nina Simone

You ain’t gotta blue when you give birth, yo!

Hello to mama, I heard you wasn’t feeling good
You spreadin deadly rumors all around the neighborhood
They say you mean an evil and don’t know what to do
That’s the reason they have gone and left you black and blue
Baby, tell me what you gonna do now?

15. Final battle:

Christmastime is Here - Vince Guaraldi

If that’s gonna happen in Christmas then my enemy must’ve been really vile, being meanspirited even on Christmas.

Christmas time is here
Happiness and cheer

Fun for all that children call
Their favorite time of the year

Snowflakes in the air
Carols everywhere
Olden times and ancient rhymes
Of love and dreams to share

Sleigh bells in the air
Beauty everywhere
Yuletide by the fireside
And joyful memories there

Christmas time is here
We’ll be drawing near
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year
Oh, that we could always see
Such spirit through the year…

16. Death scene:

Cold Turkey - Freddie Hubbard

Ok, to give it credit, it does sound dissonant.

17. Funeral song:

 

Our Love is Here to Stay - Natalie Cole

Aww how sad.

It’s very clear, our love is here to stay
Not for a year, but ever and a day
The radio and the telephone and the movies that we know
May just be passing fancies, and in time may go

But oh my dear, our love is here to stay
Together we’re going a long long way
In time the Rockies may crumble
Gibraltar may tumble
They’re only made of clay
But our love is here to stay

18. End credits:

Visions - Stevie Wonder

Simply the most beautiful way to end.

                                                 People hand in hand
Have I lived to see the milk and honey land ?
Where hate’s a dream and love forever stands
Or is this a vision in my mind ?

The law was never passed
But somehow all men feel they’re truly free at last
Have we really gone this far through space and time
Or is this a vision in my mind ?

I’m not one who make believes
I know that leaves are green
They only turn to brown, when autumn comes around
I know just what I say
Today’s not yesterday
And all things have an ending

But what I’d like to know
Is could a place like this exist so beautiful
Or do we have to find our wings and fly away
To the vision in our mind ?

I’m not one who make believes
I know that leaves are green
They only change to brown when autumn comes around

I know just what I say
Today’s not yesterday
And all things have an ending

But what I’d like to know
Is could a place like this exist so beautiful
Or do we have to take our wings and fly away
To the visions in our mind ?   

Still, I’m bummed that Night Dreamer by Wayne Shorter didn’t show up.

A mushy post, from this angst-y guy?! Before you find yourself
unable to comprehend why I’m writing this, and before you go hit the
back button, hear me:

This is another past-story post.

Yeah, I know, I’ve been overdoing the retrospection. My Feb’s not
fab unlike the past few days in New Orleans, but more fab than GMA’s
devoid-of-funk speeches. I’m so bored to the point of reading my old
blog, rewriting them, and posting them on this blog for the first time.
I know, I know, get off me; I wouldn’t be doing this have I a social
life. Anyway, this will be bittersweet - that means some bitterness
will counteract with the supposed sweetness you get when you hear
"love", and that means you’re going to get through this without needing
to visit the dentist. I hope.

I’m starting to believe that my disdain for Murakami may be because
his protagonists remind me of me. In a fitting homage to his books, why
don’t we put a beautiful jazz song before we go?

My Little Brown Book (Duke Ellington and John Coltrane)

Note that I combined my past post with something recent, so this isn’t verbatim of what I wrote 3 years ago.

There’s this girl, who I’ll call Lanie. She ran for student council,
and the first image I saw of her was from a campaign tarpaulin. She
instantly reminded me of another girl I had been very attracted to.
Doesn’t help (hurt?) that they share the same uncommon surname.

I was like “Wow, cute! I wonder how she looks in real life” but that
was it. I wasn’t expecting anything else because pictures tend to
depict real appearances inaccurately. I even added her in Friendster,
for whatever reason. This was 2004 after all when everyone went around
adding people they haven’t met, to realize later that they’ve been
adding douches. That last word is my bitter touch, yo! It gives this
post edge!

I’ll be a little anachronistic here: she’s been appearing on my
dreams since I have first seen the tarp, at the most haphazard times. I
haven’t seen her for years now but she doesn’t miss the casting call
when people audition for my dreams, and I just reckon that I said the
gayest phrase. Audition for my dreams? What weed did I smoke when I
wrote that? The only thing more peculiar than the dreams with her
appearances is my remembering their details. The first one had me on a
fictional school, practicing piano while she wasn’t noticing. One month
after, this dream had a sequel where I was on a recital on the same
fictional school, and she came close and smiled at me. Both of them
were strange because I never was a piano virtuoso. Almost a year
passed, I dreamed of her jogging at Central Park; with her back turned
on me I was trying to chase her all the time while countering the heavy
force on my feet. I woke up with blisters on my feet the next morning,
at my sister’s apartment in Manhattan which, I imagine, was half a
world away from Lanie. And then just a few months ago, I dreamed of
being back to school doing campaigns with Lanie, even if I’ve never
been a member of any political orgs in my college days. I think I also
dreamed of spending a day with Lanie at the Metropolitan Museum of
Arts, but that’s hard to remember, which you’ll understand if you’ve
ever been to the Met.

Oddly, we only almost knew each other.

It happened in the young hours of the night. I finished my exam and
was about to leave on our school’s North gate - which is called that
because I heard that it aligns with the north star and I’m not sure if
I should take that on face value or if there’s a clue in there
somewhere leading to the treasures of Triforce. I saw her standing
there in all her resplendence. Forget the tarp: if she looked anything
like that, Nightdreamer could’ve been a normal guy instead. Her beauty
had such an effect on me that basking in insanity was my most novel
idea of the day. But wait, she smiled and waved. My sweet lord, it’s
the 1000-watts smile plus a waving, there is not a supermodel posing as
a Wii gamer that could compare to that! I looked behind because I
thought she was greeting someone behind me, but nobody was behind me,
so my conclusion was that she was greeting me. I also took it for
granted that she didn’t see apparitions, and at least based on her
reactions I think that’s true.

So put yourself in such position then, what would you do? This girl
you like is in her lonesome, smiling and waving silly at you. There’s a
bench nearby where you can sit and have small chats. People say you’re
a deipnosophist. What would you do?

You wouldn’t give her the cold shoulder, would you? Well, that’s
what I did, out of being too stunned to do anything logical. I went
home cursing myself over and over again for what I did there, folks,
because that’s quality incompetence I showed there! College student,
and still torpe (closest translation: clueless about how to
meet women) what the hell, and this coming from the same guy who
effortlessly introduced himself to Sam Oh  few years before and to
Shaira Luna few years after this fiasco! Seriously, slitting my wrist
wasn’t such a bad idea for me then because I couldn’t live with that
shame. I bet you’re laughing at me; I deserve it, for once.

It also didn’t take long for her to be in a relationship after that. I think it’s still them, now.

About the only time I ever talked to Lanie was when she re-elected
and I wished her good luck. Her “thanks” resounded so much I still hear
it now. That’s what happens when you hear a sincere gratitude from the
person you’re infatuated with.

The last time I saw her was year 2005, so why am I still dreaming of
her now when every trace of her in my memory is so bittersweet?

Right now I want to eat halo-halo.

 

Connection? Confectioneries. I’m craving sugar, which explains why this post is so cloying. I’m so fired up to play Apollo Justice (it’s a lawyer game) that I’m now cross examining my own words. Durrr.

(Image courtesy of ourawesomeplanet, which is just the place to go if you want more info about halo-halo)

Sounds like the title of an awful rockband, doesn’t it? I feel the same way about "Quantum of Solace", by the way.

---

How about a jazz song before we begin?

Deep Night (Sonny Clark)

---

First, a shout-out, yet again (well, two). I found a blog called "Voice of the the Filipinos".
It is unrelated to Chavit Singson, incidentally and thank-God-a-lly. Go
and bookmark it. Better yet, memorize the link. It’s simply
www.tingog.com. Amazangly easy to remember for those who know that Tingog
is the vernacular for voice. Ilonggo in particular. Bisaya too,
perhaps. Man, me and my unnecessary rodomontades. Anyway, it’s an
newspaper’s editorial kind of blog, which means the author, nick,
writes the current events of the Philippines and his thought about
them, duh! The same thing applies to another one with a hilarious title
"Tongue In, Anew". Unfortunately, the latter’s updates are few and far
in between. I’m not a fan of the "update your blog everyday" mindset
(really, that’s stressful), but, for an author as well-spoken as
Tongue’s, he sure could post his views more frequently. Like, once a
week.

Anyway, both blogs are in my dope list. Why? Coz they dope, yo!

---

I also frequently visit Ramblingvirus’s blog. I’m sure this is a
description that will incite the cringing from all blogosphere cracks -
collective idiots in other words - but I sure do like to make people
suffer, so (PLEASE DO NOT CLICK THE BACK BUTTON): He’s kind of like a
more levelheaded me. Hahaha! Or am I merely a more colorful he? Well,
one thing is for certain, I ramble on for far longer than he does, for
better or worse. Or should I say, nolens volens? Damn Latin words sure
do make people sound smart. I’m being facetious.

---

Which reminds me, dictionary.reference.com, a site that I frequent, told me of some new killer app they cooked up: The reverse dictionary!

The reverse dictionary lets you go from a
concept/idea/definition to words and phrases used to describe that
concept. You can enter a single word, phrase, or a few words and hit
the "Reverse Search" button.

Alas, it’s not as killer as I hoped. For one, I don’t get results
when I reverse search "monkey’s ass", "superman dat ho", "ninja",
"zombie", "douchebag" and "light sabers". Lamers. Heck, I reverse
searched "crime" and didn’t get PGMA as a result, and not even Dubya.
Good grief, anyone who don’t tag "crime" with them are LEARNING
IMPAIRED! Bah, Urban Dictionary ftw!

---

It sure do sound like a happy day for me. It is. I mean, I don’t
have a lot of reasons to be happy and perhaps not having a date in Feb
14 should make me bitter, being enmeshed in the season of hearts alone yet again and
all, but I’m just happy. The simple reason being, I slept early
yesterday. Yay! Sleeping early is always a better way to revitalize,
better anyway than drinking tons of caffeinated drink so as to operate
like a zombie-panda with the breath of Raul Gonzales and Miriam
Defensor Santiago (damn, that oughta be fragrant!). I hope everyone
still remembers that.

---

Get a Play-Doh and bring it to work. It’s cheap (P20 only) and it’s
good for you - what better way to relieve stress than to apply pressure
on such protean plaything?

---

Lastly, here’s a pointless IM Conversation:

Me: I just went to Shanghai.

Dude: What’s that?

Me: (SERIOUSLY??!! but, kept composure): It’s a city in China.

Dude: O.

Dude: So did you get to see Shaolin Monks doing kung fu.

Me: No, no fancy kung fu for me.

Me: The thing I’ve seen that came closest to that was some fancy Crouching Tiger flying.

[Note: I’m not lying.]

Dude: Awesome!

Me: But too bad, I didn’t get to see bald guys breaking stuffs with their head

Me: And getting chronic migraine for the rest of their lives.

All right, before I start, allow me to explain why, lately, I post
infrequently. I’m sure my readers want to know what’s happening to my
life. It’s… not so great. Actually, it’s pretty bad. My home’s desktop
computer was busted. A tire ripped while I was driving. My friend’s
mom’s blood pressure rose. My office’s desktop computer’s (what I’m
currently using - yeah, today’s an idle day. What can I say?) keyboard
was busted, and I got an awful one as a replacement - and by that I
mean the keyboard that wouldn’t write unless I pound it. I’m also
pretty broke.

About the only good thing was that I’ve finished reading a few books last week.

Actually, I don’t know if I should call that "good" news instead of
"normal", which would then be cancelled out by those predicaments I’ve
been going through. One of the lofty goals I have planned for this year
is to finish 52 books; that means I need to finish 1 book per week. Six
weeks have passed, and I’ve finished six books. I don’t see what’s so
great about that. If I’ve been a book or two ahead, that’s what I would
call good news.

Additionally, I’m currently reading Odyssey. If you’ve read my "10
things" post, you know what’s to come next - a 900-paged, notoriously
unreadable book that disregards everything you’ve learned about
English, and yet is heralded as one of the most essential texts. I’m
getting a mixed feeling of anticipation and apprehension.

Now for the first time, I’m not starting my paragraph with letter
"A". I like doing that back in college so as to remind my professor
that that’s the alphabet my grade deserves. I heard the effect is
sublime, although I don’t think that ever worked the way I wanted.
Anyway, this is not a term paper, and nobody’s doing any grading. Let’s
get to gist of this post now.

I read Things Fall Apart (Chinua Achebe) and Foundation
(Isaac Asimov) simultaneously, but I end up finishing Things Fall Apart
a day earlier. The title should give you the clue that this is a
fall-from-grace story, and it is. It details the life of Okonkwo, who,
in enduring many hardships, rose to become a person of high rank. His
ego was as massive as the respect his village people paid him, and he
ruled his family with iron fist, often resorting to violence. He
eventually fell, but I’ll let you find out what led to that. I enjoyed
Things Fall Apart very much, particularly how it paints the norms and
the traditions of Africa, and although some of Okonkwo’s shortcomings
leave a lot to be desired, I still find myself sympathetic to him. I
also like Chinua Achebe’s writing style: it is simple yet crisp, and
despite the relatively low verbal proficiency the book required, it
never sounded dumbed-down.

Foundation takes place 10,000 (some) years ahead of now. By the
powers of math and psychology, Hari Seldon predicted that in 200 years
the Galactic Empire would fall. So he gathered a few notable scientists
and built the Foundation, so that he can mitigate the effects. To think
that math and psychology can predict the future is to oversimplify
theories of divinations, but whatever, I still think the idea is sound.
Sadly, I’m indifferent to whatever the hell is going on with the
Foundation, and that’s because of the plot and the writing. Basically,
there’s more talking and yapping than any movement, it’s like reading a
boring dossier. It wouldn’t be so bad if the characters were
interesting. They weren’t. Everyone was either the interchangeable
manipulative intellectual powerhouse (Seldon/Hardin/Mallow) who always
wins and who talks like he has rehearsed his every dialogue, or the
also-interchangeable inept pseudo-intellectual "thinks he’s the shrewd
devil" cannon fodder who always loses and who also talks like he’s
rehearsed his every dialogue, except with more venom. And notice the
choice of pronoun? That’s right, there were almost no woman, as if a
woman is insignificant in politics (a bizarre belief if, while reading
foundation, you’re in a country where a woman perverts democracy). I
also think that the wins were done in a very annoying way - what I call
the "Knew Ex Machina", which is the "I KNEW THIS ALL ALONG HOHOHO!"
plot device. The readers never could’ve learned beforehand how a person
could possibly overcome an adversity, then it just happens and that
person discourses a whole chapter about how awesome his wit is. Such
cheap storytelling! The setting is also irrelevant: I don’t know why
this had to be in the future, because the description of such future
was so sparse. It could’ve taken place now and the story wouldn’t
alter. Heck, Asimov could put a lolcat in there and it won’t matter
(like, "V10L3NZ D LAST PWNAGE 4 INCOMPETANZ!"). I heard that the latter
Foundation books are better. I sure hope so, because the first book is
bust, despite the good premise.

So that wraps my post for today. Anyone read any good books lately?
Want to make some recommendations? Want to comment on my opinions of
Things Fall Apart and Foundation? Then cram my comment box to your
heart’s content!

1. I’m a vegetarian, and I don’t intend to renounce that.

2. Night Dreamer is actually a song by Wayne Shorter. Now will you please listen to it?

3. I was extremely busy last friday. I had to create a flash
presentation, and as if it wasn’t bad enough that I had to submit the
next day, I was told just then that I had to submit 5 hours earlier
than the original proposed time. I  worked until 4 AM, slept only for 3
hours, then went to see the guy proposing such torture, only to receive
word that he was sick and had postponed the submission to next week.
Gee, all my losing sleep for this?

4. And yet, instead of going home immediately, I stayed on that
venue, borrowed a computer, and did some tweakings on my flash. I
wouldn’t stop doing it until my head was searing. AND YET, I didn’t
feel tired. My flash teacher was also with me then, and we spent hours
chatting. And that was fun. There’s nothing that energizes me more than
an intellectually stimulating conversation, and it’s been a while since
I talked to someone for that long.

5. In case you don’t know about this, my real life self is the most
apart to my persona as Nightdreamer. I’m tongue-tied, am quite shy, and
am vaguely nice. No, really, I kid you not.

6. Also, I seem to be more interested in talking to people who are
more artistically-inclined (which is one way I describe my flash
teacher). Perhaps it has something to do with having a pianist as a
sister and a comic artist as a brother, but something about the way
artists perceive the world never ceases to amaze me. At least, I find
creative-thinkers much more fun to be with than those typical
social-climbing frappe-swirling yuppie scum garbage whose conversations
- most of which are done on Starbucks - only involve cars, celebrities
and fashions.

7. I was supposed to write items 3-6 on a seperate post, but my head aches and I couldn’t express them eloquently.

8. I like to nitpick double standards.

(And one of the most recent double-standard that I’ve spotted,
unfortunately, come from sports journalists. NBA ones, in particular.
Just last week, Boston defeated Minnesota by one point, and I expected
to read that Minnesota does not actually suck that much. Instead, the
journalists recounted this like Boston did the most awesome thing ever,
and was gushing Kevin Garnett as if he sends these journalistic jesters
free passes to the local strip clubs. The irony is that KG didn’t even
do well on that particular day. Also, a day before this one, Miami lost
to San Antonio by one point, and the recount sounded like Miami was the
stupidest team ever even if they were only a point behind last year’s
champion. And you know what this reminds me? The Kobe-Lebron favoritism
bull. That is, if Lebron scores 50 points people would go "OMG he
rulez!!!" but when Kobe scores 50 points, people would go "ay, bwakaw
yan!" [translation: he’s a ball-hog].)

9. My office desk contains a lot of weird trinkets. Art papers, origami-folds, novels, Transformer toys, and play-dohs.

10. When I’m done with Isaac Asimov’s Foundation and Chinua Achebe’s
Things Fall Apart, I’ll be reading Odyssey, and then Ulysses. Actually,
it’s Ulysses I’m most preparing for. It’s a heavy read.

I have a friend who lives near me, and he has a
girlfriend who also lives nearby. His girlfriend and I also happen to
be working in the same area, so we often take the same public vehicles
home.

But despite all these, and despite us being quite
familiar of each other’s appearances, we’ve never spoken to each other.
Truth to be told, I’d love to talk to her. My life’s been such a bore
since this year started. Really, I’d love to talk to anyone. But after
seeing her body language, I change my mind.

To be exact, with or without her boyfriend
besides, she deliberately ignores my presence and pretends to be
asleep. She does not “wake” even if I’m chatting with her boyfriend -
and I’m not much of a chatter in real life so I don’t believe that I’m
disrupting their “conversation time” at all - perhaps to show that she
has no interest in what I’m saying. What’s the deal with that? She
thinks I lack the cognitive skills to see through her put-ons? So,
yeah, this jeep we were on skidded abruptly, and her legs stood on the
same spot instead of being pulled by inertia.

If she candidly admits not wanting to be my
friend, I’d have been cool.  But these acts do not simply suggest so.
They also suggest that I’m not worth being respected. Point taken,
since she’s trying to imply that I lack intelligence. That’s
perhaps the worse kind of dissing anyone can get, and I hope she does
not become the receiving end of it from someone else. I’m only
disappointed of her using such a dumb tactic to imply that I lack
intelligence, and I sure like to know what kind of dimwit will believe
in her façade.

Whenever I’m not pissed off about other people,
I’m pissed off about myself. And this self-loathing peaks whenever I
lack inspiration. Perhaps you know that I’ve been taking up classes on
web design. I’m currently doing my final project, and I’m trying to
make it a magnum opus of sorts. Now if only I could come up with
anything I’d find aesthetically pleasing.

I went to multiple bookstores and, in my hunger
for ideas, browsed through a few coffee-table books, none of which left
me feeling sated. Blargh! As I was about to leave the mall, I heard a
melodious call of my name, and that was it, my inspiration: a
resplendent woman, who I’ve met three years ago and thus far have only
seen thrice in my whole life. I was overwhelmed with the desire of
lolling around with her, but our meeting was cut short, because she had
to attend a meeting.

And then I recall that I’ve never talked to her for longer than 10 minutes. I griped.

So there goes my inspiration, coming and going as
fugaciously as a soda’s fizz. I looked at her go, and I looked at her
blur. And I wondered why everyone is so busy.

Two girls, different sentiments, but all bitter. Perhaps, just another day in my life?

nightdreamer: Hey, i just read your blog

nightdreamer: Sorry about what happened

brokenhearted: Yeah, it sucks but I’m okay

nightdreamer: You must’ve been emo

brokenhearted: ha

brokenhearted: I’m never emo

nightdreamer: punk then

brokenhearted: even when I’m sad i’m still metal \m/

nightdreamer: good. me,

nightdreamer: even when I’m sad I’m still BAD!!111

---

nightdreamer: Why are people so caught up with their work these
days? It’s like even when they have only one more day to live, they’d
spend it working than being with their loved ones

[statistics: 3 agreed, 2 disagreed]

[additional statistics: both of those who disagreed didn't greet me on my birthday]

---

Nightdreamer:eh, after playing persona i find it hard to get back to pokemon

Nightdreamer: since
the two’s essentially similar with regard to "paper scissor rock"
gameplay, only persona has a better story and deeper gameplay

Nightdreamer: what pokemon need is UNNECCESSARY ZIPPERS and ANGEL WINGS FTW!~!111

masseffect: Heheh

masseffect: More gothic is called for

Nightdreamer: and black eye liners too!

masseffect: And sulky looks!

Nightdreamer: and unwashed hair

masseffect: And long, drawn-out scenes of emotional longing

Nightdreamer: and pouting protagonists unable to express their true feelings

Nightdreamer: and NAME the hero as RAVEN or something

masseffect: Guilt’s Shadow, aka Marvin from the SeeD training academy

Nightdreamer: haha

---

masseffect: Anyway, that contra is pretty tough stuff

masseffect: Those challenge stages are madness

Nightdreamer: i’ve read about that, yeah.

Nightdreamer: maybe
it’s a reason why the heroes are made so muscle-bound? so that people
will get the hint that this is for the BAD DUDES!

masseffect: Heh

Nightdreamer: imagine if they decided to make contra filled with effeminate dudes with tribal tattoos and pointless buckles.

masseffect: Or transsexual freedom fighters trying to achieve same-sex marriage

Nightdreamer: Or
brothers swearing eternal revenge to each other only to realize in the
end, when one dies, that they actually love each other

---

Nightdreamer: survey question: which one is better, starbucks or seattle’s best?

seattle_boy: Ech, depends on what you drink

Nightdreamer: haha it looks like you hate both

seattle_boy: Both are owned by starbucks

seattle_boy: for sure

Nightdreamer: haha

seattle_boy: For drip, starbucks… for a mocha, SBC

Nightdreamer: i am not a fan of Starbucks or Seattle’s best either

seattle_boy: But my preference is neither

Nightdreamer: which one is your preference?

seattle_boy: I usually drink a drip with a shot, so for that I would pick starbucks over SBC

Nightdreamer: most of
the coffee that I get to drink are home-blended. my brother prepares
them. he buys some bean in the grocery, grinds them and to the work

seattle_boy: But if I wanted a mocha, I’d go to SBC

Nightdreamer: starbucks is too popular in philippines, it’s like another mcdonald’s

seattle_boy: Seriously

Nightdreamer: and the customers of it are flat-out ob-friggin-noxious

Nightdreamer: full of rich and pretend-rich hags

seattle_boy: Same here

seattle_boy: Exactly

Nightdreamer: i blogged about that once (albeit in a much toned-down language) and it still is my most read post. haha

seattle_boy: I work at starbucks sometimes… I’ve met the ceo a few times

seattle_boy: Wish I had his bank account

Nightdreamer: I hated
their organizer promo. when you’re able to buy 24 accumulated cups of
coffee, you’ll get a free organizer. OH JOY.

Nightdreamer: I WET MY PANTS GETTING THE ORGANIZER FROM STARBUCKS RAAOOWRRR

Nightdreamer: imagine just how much that would cost

Nightdreamer: $2 per (cheapest) coffee x 24 = $48 dollars

Nightdreamer: nobody in the world EVER has to pay that much for a friggin organizer!

seattle_boy: Heheh

seattle_boy: I guess if you’re gonna get the coffee anyway…

Nightdreamer: and yet a lot of poor Starsaps are EATING THAT UP because having a sb organizer is so… IN VOGUE!

Nightdreamer: more of a status symbol than of a recording book of any uses.

Nightdreamer: i really should blog this. haha.

seattle_boy: Heh

---

nightdreamer: so what do you do in your ethics exams?

glasses: read a 300-paged piece

glasses: and then answer these questions:

glasses: Is there such a thing as ethics?

glasses: and does God exists?

nightdreamer: Ha i bet you can just act suave, agree with what the professor has to say and you’ll get an A+

glasses: no. you have to cite sources

nightdreamer: oh.

nightdreamer: that’s too bad then. otherwise, i’d opine in valley-girl speak

nightdreamer: "Ethics exists. Like, totally"

nightdreamer: "And I *hearts* Jesus"

nightdreamer: Or how about doing this in gangsta-speak?

nightdreamer: "Yo, ethics, is real!"

nightdreamer: "And God loves, fo’ sho!"

---

nightdreamer: mayabang daw

nightdreamer: sobrang malandi, isnabera

blueallman: ah ganun?

blueallman: ows?

nightdreamer: minsan nagkasakay sila sa parehong jeep (ng kaklase ng kuya ko)

nightdreamer: di lang man pinansin, as if she’s rejecting her roots

nightdreamer: laki ulo

nightdreamer: tapos ngayon magpopose siya sa FHM
(or some sexy magazine like how 24 oras like to preview that news as
though it’s relevant)

nightdreamer: geez

nightdreamer: celebrities these days…

nightdreamer: napaka predictable

blueallman: hahahahahaha…

nightdreamer: can’t they ever spend their time on a worthier cause?!

nightdreamer: it’s no wonder FHM can so pompously claim "FHM nation",

blueallman: sobrang pangit kaya ng FHM ng pinas kumpara sa FHM ng ibang bansa.

nightdreamer: yan na kasi bansa natin ngayon eh! kelangan mo lang magpose sa FHM hot ka na at may carreer ka na sa showbiz

blueallman: yung US na FHM kasi entertaining basahin e.

nightdreamer: i mean geez nabasa mo ba yung mga columns ni asia agcaoli? brain-farts!

nightdreamer: sha lang ang worth tingnan sa mga columns niya eh. yung mga sinasabi niya eww!

blueallman: oo noh.

nightdreamer: not to mention sobrang pangit ng writing

nightdreamer: walang ounce of cleverness/originality/wit

blueallman: sobrang lousy ng mga writers ng FHM. para kang pumunta sa isang party na nakikipag-plastikan ka lang…

nightdreamer: TUMPAK!

nightdreamer: tapos eto pa yung magazine na laging pumapasok sa mga starbucks conversation?!

nightdreamer: and they say pinoys are becoming more and more illiterate 8-|

blueallman: kaya pag nakakabasa ako ng FHM, tinitingnan ko lang yung mga pics e.

nightdreamer: "dudespare, have you read the latest FHM? this babe is like my classmate grabe!"

nightdreamer: "ow really? is she like the hot stuff ba? I remember once I saw her cleavage eh! YEAH BABY!"

blueallman: hahahahahaha… highschool shit….

blueallman: )

nightdreamer: oo nga eh!

nightdreamer: wala naman akong objection sa
publication ng magazine mismo eh. it’s more that i’m really annoyed at
the weight/credence people give to such magazine

nightdreamer: tapos la pang kwenta ang articles

blueallman: oo nga e. andaming puniputol ng puno para langsa papel tapos sinasayang lang nila..

nightdreamer: bwahaha kinonek pa natin sa global warming ah =))

---

nightdreamer: have you ever tried to read a book after you read a poem?

nightdreamer: that is a very peculiar experience. yesterday as i was deciding between odyssey and foundation,

nightdreamer: i read odyssey’s first page first

nightdreamer: and then when i read foundation i sort of read it stanza by stanza and whining "huh it’s not rhyming?"

nightdreamer: so i read it like:

nightdreamer: his name was gaal dornick

nightdreamer: and he was just

nightdreamer: a country boy who had

nightdreamer: never seen trantor before

nightdreamer: tinulog ko na lang ) [translation: I slept instead]

---

guyadik: viagra has no side effects. its effects occur on front.

nightdreamer: CORNY!

---

glasses: alam mo ba kung ano ang english ng kangkong?

nightdreamer: no clue at all

nightdreamer: oo nga no i never thought about it!

glasses: its water spinach.

glasses: or Asian watercrest

nightdreamer: wha?!

glasses: very chi-chi

nightdreamer: haha

nightdreamer: water spinach? sounds like a kung fu dub

glasses: miss, padagdagan nga ng Asian watercras sa sinigang ko!

nightdreamer: hahaha

glasses: watercrest kako

glasses: bleah my typing skills suck

nightdreamer: yo nessy!

nessy: yo homeyslice!

nightdreamer: watchoo callin’ me homeyslice fo’?

---

shrugging_lady: my pregnant dog went out!

nightdreamer: well, eloping dogs sound like an awesome plot device to me

nightdreamer: "While You Were Barking", starring Kennel Reeves

nightdreamer: err, apparently a better thespian than Keanu.

---

nightdreamer: I mean, look at kingdom hearts II

nightdreamer: Donald Duck with unnecessary zippers?

nightdreamer: Gothic Mickey Mouse(tm)?

blue_galaxy: Heh, he was intense

nightdreamer: What next? Goofy with angel wings?

nightdreamer: Daisy Duck with a jaded past ?

blue_galaxy: one winged angel goofy

blue_galaxy: hooker with a heart of gold daisy

nightdreamer: or Jiminy Cricket with 3 eyes

nightdreamer: sheesh, no one respects our childhood anymore

blue_galaxy: heh, so true

nightdreamer: The Americans ruined Looney Toons. The Japanese ruined Disney

nightdreamer: I can’t wait for the British to ruin Hanna Barbera then

blue_galaxy: heh

nightdreamer: Bring on the Tom and Jerry with MOSHPITS and INDIE ROCK!

---

nightdreamer: you know what would be cool?

nightdreamer: what if one of the harry potter characters were actually gay?

nightdreamer: you know, embracing diversity and all?

guile_sonicboom: err, I’d rather not see that happen

(note: this conversation was made before Deathly Hallows was
released. When nightdreamer learned that Dumbledore is gay he had
goosebumps.)

---

captnlovbuns: i don’t do nice things

nightdreamer: yeah, I’ve had it! From now on I will be a BAD DUDE!

captnlovbuns: bad enough to rescue the president?

nightdreamer: Yes!

nightdreamer: Pass the cocaine.

captnlovbuns: on its way.

---

nightdreamer: HADOKEN! <O

---

nightdreamer: pogi ako!

nightdreamer: jack and poy tayo. ang panalo, pogi!

nightdreamer: jack and poy!

masterlopez: o< (scissors)

nightdreamer: o (rock)

nightdreamer: yay panalo ako!

---

** office lights off **

masterlopez: what was that about?

** office lights on after 5 minutes **

nightdreamer: ho-kay

nightdreamer: so, is someone having this "close the lights at
mag-reflect-tayo" session that is common among religious seminars?

---

nightdreamer: geez I really hated that Voldemort vs. Harry Potter scene in DH

pingpong: why? I thought it was okay?

nightdreamer: I thought it was really anticlimactic? Can you believe it, their dialogues? It’s like a WWE trash talk!

---

mike_tight: do birds have hands?

nightdreamer: huh of course they don’t!

mike_tight: then why do we sing "Why do birds suddenly APIR"?

* nightdreamer facepalms *

---

nightdreamer: UUuuuuyyy (teases two colleagues)

johnwilsonmotors: But to be fair, they’re probably only shopping together because it’s convenient

nightdreamer: sheesh johnwilsonmotors, your mind is too pure. Can’t you dirty it up a little more?

---

richard_blues: (speaking from America) dito sa tabi ng bahay namin,
may pinoy na sando at pajamas lang ang suot, kahit malamig sa labas

nightdreamer: sheesh epal naman nun

nightdreamer: Kung sa America nagpapajama sila, but when they go to Manila’s starbucks they wear jackets?

I could call my 2007 "The Year of the Books" because I was such a
frenzied bibliophile then. There was a month when I devoured 3 books a
week.

Alas, those days didn’t last. The tires went screech, midyear, with The Wind Up Bird Chronicle’s 600 pages of droning. Mind you I read similarly long books (like Battle Royale and Grapes of Wrath)
in the months before that. Wind Up began with me going "OH EM GEE LOOK
AT HOW HE’S BEEN PULLING DA RIGHT CHORDS HE’S A GENIUS U RAOWK MURAKAMI
\m/!" but by page 200, when the story needed to wrap, it rambled on to
the point that my good will for Murakami became hostility. And come
some harrowing subplots, and they nearly made Wind Up good again, but
only convinced me that Murakami should stick to short stories. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
followed, and it was a Deus Ex Machina "hey, it’s magic" mill. And I’ll
just as soon call Avenged Sevenfold’s music videos “brilliant” as I
would call Ron/Hermione melodrama “poignant”. Yucky angst. Good Omens
(by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett) tried too hard to make me laugh
because apparently I took Deathly Hallows’s angst too seriously. Tried,
by footnoting their “humor”. These 3 lackluster books dragged my
reading speed: they took me six months to finish.

So when I started Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere (just
after he let me down, no less. See how dumb I am?), I was languid,
weary and cynical - if it sucked, well, let’s just call it another day
huh?

Turned out, I was being paranoid. Neverwhere made reading fun again!

   
 

Neverwhere starts with Richard. He could be your cubicle neighbor,
he could be you. He is a typical London yuppie and his life is
unremarkable, but he feels like the luckiest man alive because he has a
girlfriend that looks like Jessica Alba (I imagined her like that since
they share the same name, and that also makes it easier to make Richard
me, vicariously). What do you do if your girlfriend is Jessica Alba?
You marry her, loonies. So yes, Richard isn’t a loony. He is getting
engaged to Jessica. Come the FATED DAY™, he rescues a wounded girl he
found at the roadside, making him cancel his appointment with Jessica.
This makes Jessica furious.

The wounded girl – named Door – recovers, and then disappears.
Richard expects everything to become normal again but as he heads off
to work, he finds himself rejected by the world and ignored by
everyone, even Jessica. (At this moment, I feel like him because
Jessica doesn’t even know I exist.) He doesn’t know why it happens, but
he thinks it has to do with Door. So he begins searching for Door, and
that leads him to world very different to his: to the London
Underground.

London Underground is a world that is a reject of ours. It is home
to those who pass off as hobos in our world, and also of rats and other
weird beings. Unlike our world, London Underground is supernatural, and
few of its inhabitants - such as Door – can do magic. It has a market
that always changes locations, and a subway that isn’t visible to us.
It is mostly peaceful (if less than tidy), but it has a few inhabitants
that do not have the best intentions. Those that injured Door, for
instance, live here. And Richard, in his search for Door, gets caught
in a murder plot. Will he reach Door before it’s too late? And will he
find a way to exist in our world again?

Because of London Underground’s varied sights, cultures and people,
Neil Gaiman created a world that’s fascinating. The characters, too,
are well-written, and easily loved or hated: Richard is an everyman
that stays affable because he is everyman in the truest sense, unlike
other authors’ contrived everymen who still manage to get their pants
removed by all women characters. Murakami, learn! The cutthroat duo of
Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar is menacing without remorse; they’re not
some albino assassins working for a so-called higher goal. Classic
villains without jaded pasts have become passe, but Neverwhere relives
the (fun) days back when they are feared and hated instead of forcibly sympathized. There are loads more.

Neverwhere is sincere. It does not pretend to be profound by
pulverizing you with pseudo-metaphysical New Age gobbledygooks (unlike
Paolo Coelho), nor does it resort to Good Omens’ irritating
parody-everything. It is instead a straightforward tale in the spirit
of Lewis Carroll. Not entirely artsy, but there’s nothing wrong with
enjoying fun-for-fun’s-sake stories, and anyway Gaiman has written
other tales that fill your more intellectual (and resent-of-money)
needs. To use a loose analogy, if Gaiman’s Sandman is his Sgt. Peppers
Lonely Hearts Club Band, then Neverwhere is his Hard Day’s Night.

It isn’t without flaws, though. Door, for one, is very likable if
you don’t realize that she’s just a recycle of Death (from Gaiman’s
Sandman series). Gaiman sure loves his perky goth chick, huh? A few
characters get glossed over, inspiring “what happened to them”
discussions from Starbucks frap-swirlers who try to sound smart and
literate. These problems are minor and they don’t affect the main plot.

Overall, Neverwhere succeeds in drawing me into its
Neverland-reminiscent world, and I had a great time with it. Props to
Neil Gaiman.

I’m unfocused. If you’ve ever opened my office
drawers, you’ll see books, art papers and kept-as-mementoes junks. I
keep the former two for "emergency" - that being, to busy myself when
I’m having a do-nothing day.

Today’s a do-nothing day, and I have Neil
Gaiman’s Neverwhere beside my keyboard since I came here. Its cover
depicts a tunnel, giving it an air of mystery, inviting me subliminally
to "come in and see what’s at the end". I should be reading it, and at
page 124 I’m already quite far. Yet, I’ve not been sucked into it the
whole day today.

You can guess what I’m doing instead.

During the yuletide, bloggers tend to post
year-end wrap-ups. I’m doing it now. Private life matters are mostly
already chronicled, so those won’t be today’s focus. Instead, I’m
discussing movies, books, and videogames I’ve experienced last year.

Movies

Everyone raved about it, but Pan’s Labyrinth
is surreal, poignant, gloomy, stylish, gothic, hopeless yet hopeful,
etc. What else can be said about it that you couldn’t read from a
thousand other movie critics? Anyway, I saw this movie in the theaters,
and my classmate, coincidentally, was also there. We then spent an
entire hour on the phone talking about it - the parable-like messages,
the characters, and even the most horrifying scenes. It’s this type of
movie that guarantees long discussions, and perhaps introspection. Go
watch it if you know what’s good for you.

If you’ve seen the trailer of Bridge to Terabithia,
you’ll think that it’s another Narnia knock-off. That’s not true.
Bridge is more like Pan’s Labyrinth for younger audiences, except its
protagonists cope with down-to-earth everyday problems rather than with
a dictator. It never feels easy, contrived and sappy - surprising feats
for a Disney film. And AnnaSophia Robb’s character is just too
adorable..

BUT WE WANT MORE ACTIONS says the attention-deficient readers of this blog (assuming there are such persons here). Fine. Bourne Ultimatum is an excellent conclusion to the Bourne trilogy. It sizzles from the start and never lets up. 300
is a stylish retelling of a war epic. You’ll find it shallow, you’ll
laugh at the dialogues, and you’ll pick your jaw from the floor every
time a battle commences. About Transformers, you
don’t want to hear my criticisms of it *cough* shallow people *cough*
racism *cough* jingosim *cough*. It’s still a fairly fun romp if
you ignore the human characters - which include heroic whiteys,
promiscuous hispanics and fat-and-comic blacks, ugh to Hollywood.

Animes

Besides NBA games, the only TV shows I’ve watched are 2 animes. First is Nodame Cantabile.
It’s about classical music, and it tells its story in a slice-of-life
way, where vaguely connected events happen so we can understand the two
leads better. All of its characters are likeably eccentric, although
one of the leads is too arrogant.

When you write the name of a person on the Death Note,
this person dies. Death Note is perhaps the most talked-about anime of
the year, so I won’t repeat what everyone’s been saying. I’ll just say
it’s deep, thrilling and philosophical - it will make you think of what
justice represents. The anime starts excellently, but later episodes
befuddle. The comics explain the events better, so I suggest getting
the comics instead.

Videogames

If you think you’re a badcore hardass (typo? lalalala!) I defy you to beat Contra 4.
It does not have cutscenes, "profound" stories, and "gasp in awe of all
these Maya graphics!" moments. It only has unmitigated
BLASTING-ALIENS-INTO-OBLIVION fun. Oh yes! Contra is great again. It’s
also DS-defenestrating difficult - the cover’s shirtless muscle-bound
soldiers should be hint enough for that.

If you’re someone who’d rather use your head than blast someone else’s, get Phoenix Wright.
And if not, get this game anyway, sheesh. I’m being objective. You play
the eponymous character - a defense attorney - to defend clients and
investigate crimes. Nothing is more exhilarating than your well-placed
"Objection" supported by the correct evidence, accentuated by a
dramatic silence preluding an upbeat song. The story is
very tight, and the characters are more compelling than anyone from
Harry Potter.

As Phoenix Wright can demonstrate, nihon-jins are reliable when you need a dose of zany and otherworldly ideas. Eternal Sonata,
an RPG where you play as Frederic Chopin, stands as further testament.
According to the game, when Chopin was comatose from a disease that
would cost him his life, he had a dream of a land of young bandits,
huge (but cute) monsters, and terminally-ill magicians. This is one of
the rare Xbox360 games that do not have drab walls, depressions,
hostile aliens, macho cuss words, marine-suits, steroids and silicones.
It’s quite the contrary, as this game is very bright and colorful, and
is populated with characters so innocuous you’d want to hug them.

Persona 3 is proof positive that
PS2 still has life on it. Unlike most other RPG’s, which are downplayed
by the term “interactive movie”, Persona 3 does involve you. You’ll
only survive the game if you know everyone’s - yours, your allies’ and
your enemies’ - strengths and weaknesses, so you can’t be doing the
same lazy attacks all the time. Also, how other characters think of you
depends on how you treat them. Unlike Final Fantasy, you won’t end up
as a lover of any woman unless you’ve spent time with her. That’s how a
real RPG should be! It should be more than just watching effeminate
fancy-pants metrosexuals getting moody and rebellious while mashing the
X button to oblivion (And no, Tetsuya Nomura, I’m not talking about
your buckles, your angel wings, your douchebag Reno and your Gothic
Mickey Mouse™!). I’m very addicted to this game, not just because it
plays well, but also because it’s like living inside an anime.

Books

I’m only going to write about a few of the books I’ve read in 2007, because otherwise I will break this blog’s character limit.

This is my much-belated view about Dumblepants: I
think it’s out of place. I don’t have anything against gays and, if you
recall my silly IM conversations
with guile_sonicboom, I may have prognosticated it. I only find
Rowling’s justification lacking. She said that even if Dumblepants was
known as an altruist, during his younger years he had been drawn to
Grindlerods, whose ideologies were sinister. That’s because D is gay
about G. The problem is that she explained their relationship after the
book is already finished. But how convenient! Is that the best she
could come up with? Is it now unacceptable for two men become friends
without being homoerotic?

She also said that this is a “prolonged argument
for tolerance”. Excuse me, Rowls, you do not argue for tolerance by
shelving someone’s homosexuality throughout the story, only to reveal
it in a press con. You do not reinforce acceptance by making the Death
Eater or every Slytherins nihilistic and sly beyond redemption.

The book’s biggest problem is convenience.
Harry’s obstacles are rarely solved by his abilities; they just somehow
get obliterated by something suddenly falling into place - be it by a
phoenix, time machine, elves, Dumblepants, or spells unexpectedly
saving someone’s life. Deathly Hallows suffered from
this the most, such that it felt like Rowling has been pulling off fast
ones. That’s why, of the series, I hated this book the most, even
though I very much liked the person I borrowed this book from. Oh, and
somebody burn the epilogue chapter, please.

Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan
Stroud surpasses some of the Harry Potter’s. They’re similar, but
unlike Potter, Samarkand’s magic does bear real consequences on
non-magician’s world. It even explains why certain events from our
history happened (of course they’re fictional, but that’s what makes it
fun). It also has none of them Deus Ex Machinas - the
characters are left to their own devices when dealing with trials. And,
speaking of characters, allow me to introduce you to Bartimaeus.
Imagine him as a snarkier and more apathetic Holden Caulfield. Reading
his chapters never grows old.

I had been urged by my best friend to read more business books, so I bought a Pera Mo, Palaguin Mo!
by Francisco J. Colayco. And then I was reminded of why I’ve never been
into business books: it’s because their choice of words is so dry it
could sharpen your pencil. From a layperson’s point of view, PMPM is
okay. It offers pragmatic tips on how to become richer (basically, save
money), and it reads very casually making it easily understood and
applied. How I wish, though, that it would quit interchanging
languages. And couldn’t they change the font? Is Comics Sans
business-like at all?

Forget the movie, read Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend.
It wouldn’t take longer to finish the book than to watch the movie, and
the movie cannot capture all of Robert Neville’s musings. Chuck
Palahniuk’s Fight Club, on the other hand, is just as good as the movie, so either reading or watching it is okay. Koushin Takami’s Battle Royale
is among the most disturbing novels I’ve read, and it also happens to
be very good. Both Fight Club and Battle Royale provide sharp insights
about our communities.

When I was watching Star Wars
Episodes 1-3, I came away amazed at its graphics. But when I finally
got over the awe, I realized that they’re devoid of anything else, like
a good story or good characterization. That’s exactly how I felt with Wind Up Bird Chronicle
(Haruki Murakami) too: that behind the high-flown words and metaphors,
it’s quite empty. And that’s when I started noticing Murakami’s writing
patterns. He abuses metaphors like a photocopier do to laser printers.
He can only do it too much before I get annoyed like a dog unable to
scratch away its itch. In case you’re asking “Nightdreamer, what’s with
the couple of metaphors you used”, that’s exactly how Murakami writes.
And am I supposed to be impressed that he knows more about Dizzy
Gillespie, Miles Davis and Eric Dolphy than the average person? Why he
name-drops assorted musicians all the time, and why he puts a
background music on EVERY FRIGGIN’ SCENE, I’ll never know. I didn’t
care much about his characters too: they’re never normal, they’re
always weird - sometimes purposelessly so. In Wind Up, new weirdos get
introduced so that the old weirdos can leave the story for good. What’s
up with that? And good grief, can’t Murakami write a story that does
not take place on a self-centered and love-lorn average Joe’s point of
view? I’m not sure I can sympathize with Wind Up’s because he tries to
reunite with his wife by having sex with other women and by sitting
under the well all night. Some back stories of the other characters are
excellent, though, and that made me conclude that he’s much better off
writing short stories. Wind Up is too long, and quite pointless. Maybe Norwegian Wood is better?

Whew, that’s my wrap-up. I’m exhausted now, but I hope you had a good time reading my capsule reviews.