Poem XVI (From Verses of the Red Rock)

(To the victims of the Maguindanao massacre)

The earth awoke to a solemn morn
To hushed whispers of a looming cloud
Fear is tangible--it hovers like fog
Too cold and thick to swallow.
The roads are long and winding
And the journey seems neverending.
Shadows rise on the distance
Slowly, slowly darkness came.
The shot burned skin and shattered bones
Lying sprawled and bleeding,
The sun shown the stairway to oblivion
This final breath liberates the spirit
But eternally chains the burdened soul.


8:21pm 113009

Errrrr.......

I have, once more, almost forgotten the password to my own blog. 2 months have passed since i wrote anything. In those two months, the faculty has been decimated by half. We have been struggling to keep the College working. Since both of my remaining colleagues are holding administrative duties, I was given a teaching load large enough to wear me to the bones. The load was no joke. It more than twice the load I handled a few months back. That shouldn't have been much of a problem if I have mastered the topics by having taught them for a long time. Problem is, a lot of the subjects given to me are those I have practically never bothered to study in college then and those that require me to teach strucutre and discipline to students which, of course, wasn't me at all. I strive on, trying my best to study everything and prepare well. But then again, I am no superman. I cannot be efficient in delivering if I wasn't even given ample time to prepare well for my classes. In a way, I have become the monster I didn't want myself to be. I never believed in mediocrity when it comes to teaching. And yet these circumstances drive me towards that pole. The transformation isn't complete. I hope it will never come to this. It ends here.

Powetree

I ate an early dinner yesterday evening and crawled into my bed to get a very late siesta. I grabbed a small notebook from the shelf along the way to try to read myself to sleep. The notebook was rather familiar to me. It was a collection of poetry I wrote from years ago which I intend to (hopefully) publish in the future.

Reading through the poems I wrote, I felt a little sad. They were very powerful, intense and passionate--as I was then. I wrote with angst, with vengeance for trespasses both real and imagined. I wrote with the blind conviction of a fanatic, blood and tears pouring from pen into parchment. I wrote like a victim. I wrote like a god.

I don't know which one made me more sad--having to read the anxiety and the drama that goes along with puberty and channeled into dark poetry or having to read sad but beautiful poetry written by my own hands realizing I will never get close to writing them again. I remember it was so easy to write then. I would lie in bed, with a pen and whatsoever paper I can get my hands on--tissue, scratch, receipts--and write. The outcomes were not great all the time, but I think they're rather good. Now, each time I managed to find the time and be inspired to write about something, I break. The words don't come as easily anymore. It seems my hands no longer remember how to write, my mind to imagine and my soul to empathize. Is it because I grew up and left all the angst behind me? Is it because requitted love is not as inspiring as an unrequitted one? Is it because I finally got to realize that poetry as an art eventually becomes obsolete when work and personal responsibilities eventually take the spotlight in someone's life?

As I write now, I remember the poetry I wrote and their words reverberated in my core. I guess we all do need something to get us through the day. I wrote them to get through mine. I think, it was wrong to feel sad reading through them. Moreover, I should've been proud. For those brief years, at least, I was able to write like a victim. And I wrote like a god.

The Heat is On

As I predicted, the past two weeks had been very hectic for me. I can breathe a little easier for now, but that is just about it. I have so much to write about and so little time to do so. So I'll keep this post rather short.

Swamped with work, classes and make-up classes for two weeks, my body is just about to give up. Adding more to the stress, is the pressure of processing my papers as soon as possible to have myself recredentialed to another state. My first choice, of course, is Ohio so I can watch a live game by Lebron james and the Cleveland Cavaliers. But then, Lebron may be transferring to another team come 2010. I am now considering Pennsylvania as my other State. The main reason I chose that is because Tepi will be going there as well. So at least, if I have someone close to me with me, I won't feel as nervous and as stressed as I would be alone. For the record, I have never ever been completely independent my whole life and that would be a very big challenge for me. A year has already passed since I passed my Toefl and I believe once I have started processing my papers, I would have to take a leave off from work to study the stateboards. Were it still taken in Guam, I will have studied while working at the same time. But because of the leakage scandal and the test's transferrence to the mainland, the level of exam difficulty I believe was raised three notches higher. Woe is me.

Adding to the stress, is the possibility that the PT office will be virtually empty by the end of the first semester. Ms Aj, Ms Ronz, and Ms Sheila are closest as possible to having themselves interviewed. Tepi will follow soon after. Left lurking in the school corridors would be Raymund and yours truly. To add to that, it is increasingly difficult to find new faculty to replace them. Furthermore, the College is also planning to open an OT department to fill the soon-to-be incredibly state-of-the-art PT department at the hospital.

It makes me want to jump out the window from the pressure. And I know soon, either Zaw, Jenny, or Emz will draw first blood on that US license. Once, one of them has it, I believe that everything will snowball. I hope it's not too early to say that the predictions of former teachers like Doc Alekz that our batch is very lucky because by the time we graduate, the demand for PT in the US will rise again. For the time being, it seems so. I hope I can get there on time.

Ang Sa Facebook na Bala

This and next week would probably be two of my most hectic weeks for the entire semester. I have a lot to do, stuff to finish, books to read, practicals to schedule, schedules to reschedule and I am wearing out. I would've wanted to take solace in alcohol but I don't think it would be helpful at this time. I probably won't be able to get drunk for the next two weeks. Soooo sad.

I thought I was supposed to have a class right at this time but Ms AJ told me she would still be the lecturer, and so here I am, writing once more.

Since I am virtually stuck on Facebook, I want to rant about some things. I have about 1400+ friends on FB. Don't be alarmed. I am not that friendly anyway. I added people I don't know because of my Mafia Wars application. I placed them on a list called "Loser Mafia Friends" and I placed people I know on my "Real Frenz" list so I can chat up with them if I wanted to. If an FB friend post in his/her wall in a foreign language aside from English, I automatically hide him/her. Even real friends who post nonsense are automatically hidden. I also hide friends who post every few minutes to announce whatever bullstuff they are doing as if people are dying to take part in the blow-by-blow account of their lives. I don't delete them as friends but I hide them. Bwahaha.

One thing that also pisses me off and merits automatic inhibition from my wall feeds are friends who post about their love lives on FB. Don't get me wrong. Professing your love for your partner, spouse, fubu or whoever is perfectly okay as long as you don't do it on a regular basis. Posting "Sigh! I miss him so much", followed after an hour or two by "Love is...." followed by "Wishes to spend the day with him" sends a shiver up my scoliotic spine. WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR F*****G LOVELIFE OR YOUR NEED FOR ONE? You don't have to advertise your profession of love for whoever prick you are interested with because NOBODY cares except you. The prick is probably having an affair somewhere right now and never uses Facebook kay nasa Friendster stage pa lang xa. I mean why do you have to post everything? Why? Because it's your wall and you can do anything with it? That's right. As I also reserve my right to hide you and never hear from you again. We are still friends though, technically, but that's just about it.

Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law states that whatever bad might happen will. Today is an exemplary proof of that.

I woke up early and finished off my facebook duties playing all my applications, accepting friends and making comments. I ate breakfast and prepared my travelling bag. I was going to Bacolod to meet up with Dame for a nice and cozy weekend R and R. It was a rainy day so I wore a jacket and went straight to school. I had a short class at 12 lunchtime and my stockpile of testpapers are still in limbo awaiting checking. The bag was quite heavy, with Dame's hair spa containers, lotions and other preservatives. Plus, I bought a book along so I could study for Monday's class.

After class, I went straight to Biscocho Haus to buy some pasalubongs and to eat lunch there as well. The rain was starting to pour a little heavier and the smell of steaming hot dinuguan is too tantalizing to resist. Alas, they don't have rice anymore. They even ran out of puto. After I finished buying a box of biscocho, I decided to eat somewhere else. Fortunately, across the street was a small eatery serving bopiz, one of my favorite spicy foods ever. The food was divine and I felt better even after carrying my heavy travelling bag over one shoulder and the box of biscocho on the other hand.

Then, I remembered I had to get some money from the ATM machine so I took a detour towards SM Delgado. I went straight to BDO Valeria and waited in line. The line was relatively long so I was starting to get impatient. As my turn was nearing, the guy who was withdrawing kept for very long. I saw on the screen something written like "Please take your cash". Problem was, the screen never changed for about 10 minutes. The ATM hanged and crashed. I wasted my time waiting in line for nothing. Irked but helpless I crossed the street and went inside SM BDO. 2 ATM machines were offline, the other one can only process balance inquiries and the last one had people falling in line like fans wanting to see their dead idol in Rudy Fernandez's wake. This time, I'm starting to get impatient walking around for nothing, carrying a heavy bag and straining my shoulders. I strode towards BDO Quezon, hoping for a ray of light. The stupid contraption of a machine called ATM was once again offline. Cursing under my breath, I stomped towards Robinson's to get my money. The rain was pouring but it was humid and I was sweating. My armpits and my brows were sweating profusely like I had a workout. And as fate would have it, offline man ang depota nga ATM sa Robinson's! Argh!

I angrily texted Dame if it would be possible for her to withdraw from her ATM and I will just replace it when I come back and she said yes. I checked my watch and hurriedly commuted towards the pier. When I got off the jeepney, I saw people walking away from the pier and I happily grinned that I made it on time. Time check 1:45. Next trip is 2pm Weesam Express and 2:15pm OceanJet. I will make it! Hurray! My luck is finally changing!

Boom! I spoke to soon. The booking counter for OceanJet was swarmed with commuters. They were noisy, rowdy and wet from the rain. They looked like refugees from war. As I entered the crowd, I heard the terrible whispers of my fellow would-be passengers. Weesam Express announced at 10am that they will cancel all their trips from Iloilo to Bacolod for today. Apparently, their two boats need repairs. This explains why everyone is crowding at Ocean Jet. It's Friday and everybody wanted to kill to go home. I fell in line to get a ticket. The line is a short version of the Great Wall of China but wound like multiple letter Z's attached end to end to accomodate everyone. To make matters worse, it was raining. Hard. As I inched my way towards the counter, they announced that the 3:45 trip is already fully booked. Steam rose from my nostrils as I gritted my teeth in frustration. Soon after they announced they are giving out 5:15 pm tickets. Chance passengers only. WHAT? YUDIPOTA! GINAGO NA GID NA YA! I'm wetter than a pornstar's mons from falling in line in the pouring rain tas hambalon lang chance passenger ko? YUT imo na lang na! Some people approached me and told me to go to Dumangas and take a RO-RO with them. It was okay actually I'd be paying 250 pesos for the entire trip. Problem is I would arrive in the evening when I don't have a bus or a van to take me to Dame's hometown. that would be a double whammy.

Defeated and chilled, I decided to just go home. I tetxed Dame and she was very understanding about it thankfully. As I was walking away, I made a mental image of myself cursing the heavens and shouting "Bakit ako pa?" BAKIT AKO PAAAAA...... kag nadanlog ko. Mayo lang ke nakapanguyapot sa railings. Ay linte na pangabuhi ni ah. -.-

Licenxa

I almost jumped out of my chair in shock last night when I heard that only 2 out of the 6 board takers from school passed the PT licensure exams held during the weekend. It's a big blow to the morale of the institution and the college. It is a bigger blow to the PT faculty, including myself, because such result puts into question the competency of its mentors to educate. And although I have been teaching for less than a year and I haven't really handled this particular batch of boardtakers, still this does not spare me from the burden of having to bear the dismay of those on top. We only had a 33% passing rate when the national rate is about 40+%. That is dismal.

Right after the board exams, the takers confided to Ms Tep and Ms Ronz that the APK (Anatomy, Physiology and Kinesiology) part of the exam was a killer. APK used to be the easiest as most of the questions were recycled. I noticed that year after year the exam gets harder and harder to pass. Yes, when the demand for PTs abroad went from a surge to a standstill, the exams (including the one I took in 2006) were a bit easier. Now that the demand is on the rise again (thanks to the baby boomer generation), the exams tend to get a little bit harder each time. This does not spare the State Board Exams necessary to work in the US. I remember 3-4 years back a lot of people kept on passing the US exam on the first take. These days, if you pass the exam on the first take it's either you are indeed well prepared, smart or just damn lucky.

I had a lot of hopes for this batch of takers. I even told my colleagues at work that the least we can get is a 4 out of 6. I was even betting for a clean slate. However, this did not translate into reality. I am frustrated. Part of me wanted to console those who did not pass telling them in God's time we shall be colleagues as well. But a part of me is still in shock. A thousand people took the exam, 400+ passed. You only need 1 out that 400+ new licenses. How come you did not get it? The main reason is: YOU LOST FOCUS. The local board exam is overrated. It's just that from the academe, the PT student has already conditioned his mind that the exam is a terrible, extremely difficult test that it must be a gargantuan prize to pass it. It is NOT. If it were so hard, only 5 people out of a 100 should pass if that were the case. It's not luck and it is not God's will. God's will is for you to be prepared come exam time. He will not just wave his miraculous hand and make you pass if you did not prepare well or if you lost focus somewhere along the way even if you went to church everyday and lit candles for his glory.

For what it's worth though, a license is never a trophy for being a good and decent PT. There may be a lot out there who have good decision-making skills in the clinic who do not have a license. I, for one, have a license but I am not as confident in the clinic as I am in the platform of a classroom. What's the use of having a license then aside from the legalities and stuff? It makes you credible and statured in the field of PT. That's why we all aspire to have it.

For those who passed, kudos and goodluck in your career. For those who didn't, I will not give you a pat on the back and tell you it's okay because I know it's not. I will not tell you better luck next time because I don't believe in luck. I will not patronize and I will not pretend to understand how you feel because, honestly, I don't know. I will just let you be, let you rise from the ashes, build up momentum and take that elusive piece of plastic with your name and number on it. By then, I will shake you hand, congratulate you, patronize a little bit, and together, perhaps, we shall altogether reach for our American dreams.

Uniporme

It's been a terribly long time since I filled up my pages. I promised to revive this sorry excuse for a blog but unfortunately, since I don't have something worthwhile to talk about I decided to put it on hold again.

I'm screwed. I have a lot of things to do at hand in preparation for the compressed Midterms at school and yet I have to leave it all behind when I got to Bacolod on the weekend. Also, I can no longer roam freely around the campus. A new directive for the faculty to comply with is that we should wear a color-coded uniform for each day of the weak and that means I have to wear slacks. It should have been easy just to obey this new rule. Problem is, I hate wearing slacks and polo shirts. As for you who know me, I have always been the T-shirt and jeans kinda guy. So everytime I go to school, I am compelled to hide within the corners of my college office and only venture out into the wilderness if and only if it's utterly important. I have to decrease the chances of me meeting up with a superior and get reprimanded for my uniform. I can't even go to the canteen to have lunch lest I be confronted.

I certainly cannot understand the concept of me, the great Toto Dyud, wearing faculty uniform to "look" professional. That is pure bullstuff. As a teacher, I prepare well for my classes, even burning the midnight oil which I didn't do way back in college. I discuss well and with passion. There are many out there who wear their uniforms but suck at educating kids. They may look professional, but damn me they are tramps. There are many who are overly strict over matters that should not be of great concern like hounding students over the color of their hair, or ponytail, or missing pin or cufflinks. Trivial matters like that should not be too fussed over with. A simple comment to catch the student's attention is enough. Anyway, they are in college. They know what's right from wrong. You don't have to impose your will over them. I find some professors so pathetic they constantly report student activities to college heads. By constantly, I mean always. Like, don't they have anything more worthwhile to do with they bloody lives?

However, in a way, I feel sorry for them. Not only because they are losers who want to make young people miserable, but also because all their lives they followed the rules. They never broke them. They are these people whose lives are so patterned and predictable the only things that could break that mundanity is a stroke or a freak accident resulting in death. These are people who have nothing exciting to talk about their lives with their grandchildren only that they did very well in school. It's a sad thing really. Nothing worthwhile ever happened to their lives except that they went to school, graduated, worked, got married, had children, retired, and died.

Sooner or later, I will be forced to comply with the school policy lest I find myself out of work. But never fear, my adoring legion of admirers. I will still be the great Toto Dyud that you love and worship--- just a little more cultured, say, a little more "professional".

Octopus Man

For days now, I kept on seeing ads for the Discovery Channel documentary entitled "Octoman". I was actually intrigued by the documentary. Luckily enough, I managed to catch its premier tonight.

The Octopus-Man is a freakshow favorite here in the Philippines. He has seven limbs in total, politically incorrect as an octopus should have eight. I was surprised to learn he is an Ilonggo. Had he been a singer, an actor, an athlete, or a beauty queen, the media would probably have had his face plastered all over the frontnews praising how his talent or beauty has given "honor" to his country. Alas, beauty queen he is not. He is a freak of nature. He has had an unformed twin brother attached to him, hence the extra limbs. His only bet on newsworthiness is a short skit on features, Sagip Kapamilya, Wish Ko Lang, Maalaala mo Kaya or Kuya Kim's MatangLawin. If I were completely apathetic, I would call him hideous. The kind of ugly that will put Quasimodo to shame. I am not talking about his face (which is rather average), but his overall appearance is simply appalling.

As would have been expected, the only job he's been in is showbusiness--albeit not the red-carpet type. He is a carnival star, raking in his income by attracting fiesta goers to stare at his deformities. However, 10 years ago he decided to finally end his life with the moving carnival. He eloped with a magician's assistant, ran off to a far-off place somewhere in Panay island, and raised a daughter, who I find to be rather charming and pretty. Nobody knew where he went, not even the carnival people.

He was finally located by a researcher and was interviewed. At present, he is already suffering from quite a lot of ailments. To make the long stroy short, he was brought to Manila to be examined for his condition. Examination revealed him to have high blood pressure and so on and so fort. The hypertension and stomach ulcers were attributed to the extra appendages on his body. It was found out that his extra appendages were indeed a twin brother but he is parasitic by nature. Therefore, he shares the blood, nerves and nutrients of the Octoman.

After careful analysis, lab exams and all, it was revealed that he could be operated upon. What's more, the doctors are offering the operation for free. Octoman went home and discussed the proposal to his family. According to the doctors, he's got a good chance of success. Now here comes the anti-climactic part. THE FOOL DID NOT GET THE OPERATION! His reason was, God made me this way. I have accepted it and I will die this way. What the fuck was that all about? What a complete waste of airtime. What a complete waste of MY time! Damn, there are soooo many people who need operations everyday and they can't have it cause they don't have money. And here comes Octoman being offered a complicated operation for free to save his life and improve his quality of life and he fucking refuses it. Because God made him this way.

Yes, I think maybe you would think I am being severely and unwarrantedly blasphemous. But damn is he stupid! If I were an Octoman and I prayed to God to make me normal, he wouldn't snap his fingers or zap me to normalcy. That is too predictable. God works in mysterious ways and he only gives opportunities that would make Octoman "normal". The first one he gave was that magician assistant and their daughter. The next one would be this free operation by experts. Now, which one is more disrespectful to God, my ranting about how people just accept how things are because God made them that way or him turning his back on a perfectly humbling philanthropic experience that would have been a work of mercy for the doctors?

Instead of I getting inspired by that docu, it made me angry and feel a lot less sorry for him. Stupid people irritate me. Stupid people making God as an excuse for their cowardice or melodrama make me furious. And stupid people getting airtime make me livid. I got all of that tonight.

From your biggest fan

His name is always on the tabloids reeling in scandal and negative publicity. That homo. That pedo. That has-been of a popstar.

Today his name is once again on the papers. This time, they announce his tragic end. It is a rather sad ending for a King who was brought down to his knees by the humiliation of his bankruptcy and alleged pedophilia.

Till now, I think everyone, fan and critic alike, were secretly hoping and waiting for a true comeback from the self-professed King of Pop. They were waiting for him to electrify the stage by his performances, shatter the mic through his vocal prowess, and ultimately revive his genius. That day never came. It will not come at all.

Jacko is dead. And the world mourns for what was, what could've been and what should've been. After all, MJ was a music icon, a big one at that. He sold the most records ever behind Elvis and the Beatles. He made MTV a household name with Thriller. In the music arena, MJ was as near to a god as anyone could've imagined.

I am a big fan. I mourn his death more deeply than I mourned Francis M's. I was a secret dream of mine to be able to watch a live performance by Michael. It is a dream yet unfulfilled. However, there is a silver lining to his death. Had he died 20 years after, his name would've been buried in bad rep so deep not even Tom Hanks can brink back any integrity into it. His sudden death would drive people to listen to his music once again, same as what happened to Francis M's. Through this, his name will be forever etched in history and his music will be played for all eternity.

Godspeed Michael. Rest in Peace.

Pay It Forward

Two days ago, I happened to catch on a movie entitled Pay It Forward on HBO. It stars Haley whatsisname, the child star on Bruce Willis' The Sixth Sense who immortalized the lines "I can see dead people". With him is Helen Hunt, Jon Bon Jovi and the remarkable Kevin Spacey. I've always been smitten by the subtle and powerful performances of Kevin Spacey since I saw K-PAX. However, I am equally impressed by this Haley boy who gained my well-deserved respect after this movie.

Haley plays a 7th-grader raised in a broken home with a mom who's a recovering alcoholic and is seldom home. Spacey plays his school teacher who inspired him to develop a Pay It Forward principle. By virtue of this principle, a person is required to do one big and extraordinary good deed to three people. Those three people have to pay it forward meaning they also have to do good deeds to three other people each. It is a rather ambitious endeavor, relying purely on a person's goodwill. And as such, failure will ultimately be its end.

Pardon my apathy. In real lfe, something like this will never happen. Doing something great for someone you perhaps do not know at all may perhaps be noticed and lauded by society, but more often than not it will be forgotten, shaken off as a happenstance that won't happen again, or not recognized at all. As part of the Filipino culture, doing a great deed for someone requires him, by virtue of utang-na-loob or indebtedness, to pay you back in kind. Failure to do this will deem him an ingrate, a leech, someone who doesn't know how to look back from where he came from. If you are the doer of the great good deed to someone without asking for something in return just a wish that he also pay it forward to someone else, you will be considered a showoff, a fool, a politician in the making, a naive creep, or someone who attaches strings to everything. It is a hopeless scenario if you ask me.

Inspite of it all, however, there is nothing wrong in hoping. There is nothing wrong in having faith in people. There is nothing wrong in believing that people do apply their better nature. Naive as it may seem, sometimes we don't have to make things all that complicated. Only adult minds make things complicated. At the end of the day, we all have to contribute if we want to make this cruel world less cruel may it be in deeds and dreams that may seem miniscule compared to what rich philantropists do. It doesn't matter. As long as we have faith, we all have the potential to make life suck less to ourselves and to other people. Though this sunshine disposition is usually out of my league, today at least it is in.

....... ZZZzzZzZzzz....

I am reviving my blog. Nah, resurrecting it back from the tombs of Aku. This doesn't mean I now have the luxury of time to write. Nor does it mean my passion for writing or for any other literary pursuit has taken the front seat of the present. I am writing because I am compelled by time. Or, more accurately, the seeming lack of it.

No, I am not dying and I am not sick. I am simply getting old. I will soon be joining the throng of once-so-young-but-not-anymore yuppies tearfully singing along the 4 Non-Blondes What's Up. Nine short months have passed since passing my Toefl exam. Nothing happened. Nothing's happening. I don't think that being a teacher has helped me in my pursuit for that elusive American dream. Even now, I am losing the spark, the flame of what moved me to become a teacher in the first place. Gone is the almost berserker-like fervor of which I envisioned myself transforming and educating the younger generation. All that is left is the pressure of meeting deadlines and completing school duties.

I'm not even sure of when and where I lost the spark. Perhaps because it is with the indifference shown by the students. Or with their apparent lack of appreciation for your sacrifices. Maybe it's because I finally understand that I may not be able to become as magnificent as I have always thought I would be. Or maybe it's because I feel that my charisma alone will not change the mediocre minds of the many sheeps I tend to everyday. Or perhaps it comes with the hopelessness of having to look after sheeps with brainpower comparable to that of a microscopic amoeba.

Or maybe I am just getting old. It is human nature I believe. Few mentors maintain their level of enthusiasm for instruction throughout their lifetime which explains why only few of them get remembered. Little by little, you get dragged to the pits of mundanity. Until eventually, everything becomes routine. Now everything is routine.

I am old. I am bored. Nothing has happened. Nothing's happening. Pray, something will happen soon....

April Reign

I got so stuck on Facebook I almost forgot the password to my own blog. Haha. Well, I went home under a humid midmorning sun and wasn't really expecting rain. As soon as I got home, I rushed straight to the PC to play,of course, ate my lunch, and went for a quick siesta. Then suddenly I heard the crackling sound of whips from the sky. Rain fell so hard and so quickly, I rushed to turn off the aircon and the PC avoiding the possible risk of them imploding due to electrical surge or whatsoever. Lightning and thunder rolled with the heavy rain, totally unexpected on a summer midafternoon.

Little by little, the horrors in those documentaries by Al Gore, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Edward Norton are starting to unfold before our very eyes. This is the effect of climate change and global warming. Last year, Panay experienced its worst storm ever with 200-800+ people (depending on the source) dead. The extremely heavy, storm-caliber rains experienced just this afternoon is also a direct consequence of that. How did this happen? In simple terms, I will explain it like the omniscient philosopher that I am. Bwahaha! Due to increased carbon dioxide in the atmosphere ( from fossil fuels, factories, dumpsites, cattle and swine farming etc), the temperature of the earth gets warmer. If the temperature gets warmer, of course evaporation from oceans increase in volume. Increased evaporation equals more cloud formations. More cloud formations equals heavier rains. And the cycle would begin again.

A bigger threat with these crusades to fight global warming is the mere fact that people don't want to give up the lifestyle that is comfortable. Because of GW, people turn on their aircons. More aircons equals more energy expenditure. More energy expenditure equals more fossil fuel burning. More fossil fuel burning equals more global warming.

Feeling depressed now? Just wait next time when I have the energy to write about galcial melting and its effects on the price of ice water on the sari-sari store. Haha. For now, I'm signing off again.

The Most Dangerous Zodiac Sign

Is a crab. Cancer. Just returned home from my granddad's home where we attended Uncle Warren's wake. Uncle Warren died of cancer. I will always remember him as a very kind uncle who keeps on feeding you salad every five minutes just becoz he's already drunk. He almost always seem to be drunk, with the red chest and slurred speech. You see, my uncle is an alcoholic. Not the noisy, irritating, out-of-control type (like yours truly), but rather he's the attentive one, the caring one who comes to you and asks you "Nagutom ka to? Kuha taka salad ha". The only problem is, he does that every five minutes or so. As long as you are in his line of vision, you will always be full. He's the eldest of my dad's siblings (they're 9 kids) and he will sorely be missed. Yesterday morning, we bade farewell to my grandad and mom and all the uncles and aunties and cousins that were there. I was saddened when I kissed Auntie Janet (his wife) goodbye and she said, "To, ikaw na lang siguro mabantay Ceres ke wala na si Uncle Warren mo". Ahay nasubuan ako. As long as I can remember, basta magpapuli na kami nga daan from Nabas, Aklan it was my Uncle Warren who always volunteers to go out in the hot summer sun to wait for a Ceres bus. And now he's gone.

Because of this zodiac particular zodiac sign. He died of lung cancer after years of smoking and drinking. Nope his liver was not so bad. He died of pneumonia secondary to chemotherapy for his cancer. This scares me in a way I've never felt before. My Auntie Mila, my dad's sister and who probably is the most beautiful among the Lasernas, also has cancer. I remember her Greek features, high nose, porcelain skin and beautiful eyes. I haven't seen her for a long time but my cousins told me she had been reduced to skin and bones. Her painscale is at 10/10. I can't imagine why good people such as them get to die painful deaths. There are so many assholes in the world who deserve this. Not them.

I'm scared. Not just because it's confirmed that we have familial tendency for cancer. Not just because I can't afford cancer treatment. But more so because I don't have an unwavering faith in my God. So far, I seem to have lost it (again) somewhere along the way. And that bothers me. Much more than this zodiac sign of a shellfish with pincers.

Graduation Day= More Call Center Agents!

Today is the school's graduation day. Today marks my 3rd year out of school. Three short years translates to three long years for a boy who dreams to make it big---sooner rather than later.

I always believed that I was never born mediocre. I also foresaw that in my classmates in college. We were a bright opinionated batch, mostly misunderstood but still bright altogether. We seldom bow down to the demands of the school bureaucracy, although admittedly sometimes arrogantly so. We shun most things generally acceptable to other batches simply because we don't believe in crap like dancing or singing in the university weeks. By doing so, we have alienated ourselves from the rest of the batches below and ahead of us.

The scenario was bittersweet. Here we are, marching to the tune of You And Me Against the World (politically incorrect I may add, kay kahinay kg kasubo sang song), yet also secretly longing for social acceptance in a community of academics and conformists.

Yes, things didn't turn out so bad after all. We didn't turn out so bad after all. In fact, we are prouder than ever. My only regret is that because of our strict cohesion to each other, we also somewhat dimmed each other's potential for excellence. But the bonds that made us us will not be broken. We are victorious.

We were never born mediocre.

Bagsak!

As a teacher, I'm black and white when it comes to grades. If you pass, you pass. If you fail, you fail. I don't care if you're always absent or always late so long as you don't irritate me and you pass all the requirements ( e. g. homeworks, etc) in my class. Moreover, I don't care if you sleep in my class or eat in my class so long as when I give a test you don't complain. That's the kind of teacher I am.

2 days ago, we had a university-wide send-off ceremony for the upcoming interns. Before that, I I proctored for their exam in Ortho-Pros. They all looked handsome and beautiful in their semen-white intern uniforms. Their excitement was evident but the hovering shadow of basi-may-failure-ako-kag-indi-ako-makaintern serves a bitter taste on the tongue. Some of them didn't invite their parents over, for fear ( or shame ) that all of these will just be exercises in futility once the grades are out. That same afternoon, I checked the papers and gave my grade inputs to Sir Mund for collation. The results were dire, he told me 3 girls failed in Ortho-Pros. They will still fail even if they perfect my Major Prax in Taping.

Yesterday, after the year-end general PT assembly, the faculty had the deliberation for the 4th year students. It was heartbreaking to see them. 4 people out of 8 are in danger of not getting to internship on time. A waste of time. A waste of energy. A sad, sad day.

Morbidly Obese

I'm F-A-T! I hate being an adult. You get F-A-T! I remember it's way easier to lose weight in college than now. It's easier to lose the beergut in college than now. It's easier to make money than now. Life was bittersweet then but hell it's a lot better than now. I can't seem to fit into my clothes anymore. And hell I don't want to give up my illicit love affair with the equine race ( read: redhorse and colt45 parehos kabayo n_n ).

I'm fat. Please help me lose weight without dieting and exercise. Please.

P.S. No surgeries please. I need a miracle to get rid of the fat. Not mere medical intervention.

Green With Envy

Is it me? Or is it human to be phlegm-green with envy if you encounter someone from the past who managed to make it big in business? Not just big, really big. You still have traces of that someone, familiar to you, a companionship no one can really take away. And yet, the sheer distance of where your paths led you now closing down again as the roads take you back together. I'm in awe at how easy it was for that someone to buy this and that and yet you still talk bout the old times like nothing's changed. Except he's made it. I haven't yet. Possibly never get that far.

Is it because of family and connections? Possibly a little push for maturity. Is it out of luck? Or hardwork? Or proper timing? Maybe a little of everything. So here I am. Eyes wide open in awe. An approving pat on the back. And a little slit behind the ears oozing with a tinge of envy. Perhaps a little unintentional bruise on the self-esteem. But ultimately happy for finding a friend you've almost lost along the long journey of conquering all your dreams.

Green is for envy. So is for hope.

A Good Day to Die

Worst fears confirmed... I'm lost... Hurt...Numb....Jaded....

I have board review sked for tom and I can't concentrate... Numb... Jaded....

Squatter Power!

I watched the critically-acclaimed and award-winning masterpiece Slumdog Millionaire a week ago and it captivated me. The cinematography, the storyline and the child actors were perfect. I think the filmmakers gave justice to the harsh reality of living in slums without glamorizing on the triumphs that will eventually come the way of the main characters.

The movie focuses on the harrowing life of people living in extreme poverty in the streets of Mumbai, the largest city in India. Caught in the middle of the social storm is Jamal Malik and his older brother Salim. The movie starts with a torture scene involving a now-grown-up Jamal and the local police. He was eventually tied-down and was asked to explain how he was able to manage answering the grueling questions in the game show Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? The daunting story of his life in the slums, marred by tragedy, crime and sibling rivalry slowly begins to unfold as he patiently clarifies how he was able to answer each question leading to the next top question and instantly making him a millionaire.

In the poster release of the movie a tagline in a WW2BAM format says something like: What does it take to find a lost love? A. Money B. Smarts C. Luck D. Destiny. If you come to look at it Jamal, even as child, was naturally lucky. He got an autograph signed by his favorite movie actor while stinking so bad after jumping off into a shit-hole. Some of the questions during the game required deep inherent knowledge about many queer things and yet he was able to answer it purely out of luck which includes the final 20-million rupee question. His brother Salim, on the other hand, was also naturally envious of Jamal's luck. He locked the comfort room's door from the outside so that Jamal couldn't see his moviestar idol; he sold Jamal's autographed picture of that moviestar to a local collector; he let go of Latika (the girl they unoffically adopted as their sister) when they escaped from the clutches of a local syndicate and many more. His envy, however, never gets in the way of him protecting his younger brother. So you might actually say that part of Jamal's luck is his brother's protective love of him. In a way, Salim has an innate hatred of Jamal, for Jamal with luck gets most of the things they both wanted including the love of Latika. Salim eventually fell into the seduction of money and power becoming a hitman for a big mafia don while ironically maintaining his deep Islam religiousity.

Jamal's unconditional love for Latika drives him to join into the gameshow. With the hope that Latika is watching. He maybe the only person who was there in that gameshow who was not after the money. He grew up from nothing and thus, he's got nothing to lose. What he is afraid of most, is the possibility of never finding Latika again. In the final throes of the movie, Salim, the ever-protective brother, gave Latika her freedom at the expense of his own life. Bathing is a tub-full of ill-gotten money, Salim open-fired on his boss and his people which cost him his mortality. Jamal was able to answer the final question, became an underdog millionaire and fulfilled his destiny of being with Latika.

Watching the movie, you cannot help but feel secured and contented with what we have in our lives. The poor people of India are way more pitiful than the poor here in the Philippines. A slum area as far and wide as the eye can see is a screaming irony of how people are supposed to have been born equal. The movie, at the end of the day, gives hope to all of us. We choose our own destiny, as the cliche goes. Let us not forget that we all have chances to be great and significant. What matters is the choice that we make. Hopefully, my friends, we will get a shot at greatness. And when that time comes, I promise you, mine will never be less than grand. :-)

Black Velvet

2 Saturdays ago, I mentioned that I did go to a seminar by PARM. During the after hours, I met Dame^ who was also undergoing a training seminar by TESDA for her job at her school. Anyway, I met her friend (I forgot the name), a chubby guy with a musculine voice who speaks gay lingo (which I find a bit too much and too creepy to take). I think he's a closet queen for all I care. Anyway, he brought us to a place called Black Velvet. It is a comedy bar located in the heart of Bacolod's nigthlife district of which I don't know the name.
It was my first time to go to a comedy bar. The entrance was a decent 45 pesos per person and when we entered, the place was already swarmed with customers. We were just lucky for as we entered, a group of people were leaving and we had an empty table for the three of us. The comedy team was made up of 5 comedians: 3 crossdressing fags, a woman (who allegedly is the aunt of Sheryn Regis who trained her in singing) and a dwarf woman (who is perhaps the shortes unano^ I have ever seen in my entire life).
The comedy group delivered a lot of jokes and stints that made me roll of my chair with bellyaching laughter. The dwarf, Jenny, was very witty and cracks a lot of very good jokes. Aya, the tall fag with a great fasetto singing voice, and the woman ( I forgot here name) sang very well. In fact, the alleged-Sheryn-Regis-aunt is one of those singers who can hit long and high notes without seeming to strain. I mean I don't see the veins of her throat engorging as she belted out the high notes. Their routine was basically made up of the stereotypical videoke and stand up spiel. Dame enjoyed the show so much she wanted to come back the next night.
And so we did. During the second night, of course they had to repeat some of their routine and some of the lines that they did from the night before. However, for what it's worth Jenny, the dwarf, made my night with her impromptu call-center spiel with a customer ( who was well-applauded for being such a good sport). However, when Mariposa ( an ugly fag with a Pokwang-face who makes funny facial distortions) was on stage, a table of customers booed him. Those wretched kids ( teenagers) sort-of retorted back cause they were singled out by the comedian when they entered. "Oh mga bata, ari kamo d? Kabalo mga ginhikanan nyo nga gakadto kamo d?". The audience roared in laughter, much to the ire of the kids. So when Mariposa got back on the stage, they booed him and lambasted his lines. I think it's insulting enough not to be laughed at when you are a comedian. It's worse if you're booed if you're a performer. The hecklers went on and on with their booing until even the comedians themselves almost lost their composure for the arrogant behaviour of those sick bastards.
After a brief picture taking with Jenny, we left the place satisfied but with a grain of salt. I felt sorry for Mariposa but I think it's admirable how he maintained his composure throughout the heckling. I also noticed a deep, deep sadness embedded in the eyes of the comedians. Their faces were bright with laughter but their eyes tell a different story. These performers may not be considered heroes of the new day. But hell, we are all like them. Everyday we tread on, putting on a show to get people to like us, to love us. We brave on the insults people who don't like us and we go on living. We do it repeatedly, on a daily basis. We put on a good show. And in show business, no matter what happens, the show must go on. The show must go on.

Seminar

Last week was hellweek for all of us. We were required to join in a sing-and-dance fundraising concert that featured faculty, administration, maintenance and staff at San Pablo. So it means wasting a lot of energy on after class practices that may last as late as 10 or something in the evening. Everynight for more than a month. Of course, I only joined in the group chorale and not in any vocal solo or group dance. That means I got to go home earlier than almost everyone their including my PT colleagues. Fast forward to the presentation. Errr... it was successful. Errr... nothing much to say about it really. Except, I get some LSS from the songs we sang, particularly St Francis Prayer. Anyway, I'm going to write about some things I've learned from the seminar I attended last Saturday at L'Fisher Bacolod. We were sponsored by Doc G as this was a seminar by the Philippine Academy of Rehabilitation Medicine (PARM).

Here are new things I've learned:

1. The following things (in direct order) are protective against Parkinson's Disease: caffeine, green tea, smoking and aspirin/NSAIDS ----- mroe reasons to drink coffee and smoke
2. The following events may be indicative of PD in the early stages: constipation, sleep disturbances, swallowing difficulties; we also have to take note of olfactory disturbances as it may present even before the motor symptoms arise ( such as bradykinesia, nystagmus, postural instability) ; drooling is also a manifestation of bradykinesia
3. 2 major subtypes of PD have been identified:

• Tremor dominant type- this is more common in younger patients; possible mental status impariment
• Gait difficulty/ postural instability dominant type

4. Poor response to Levodopa treatment may suggest other types of clinical conditions

5. PD is not a purely motor disease; there are underlying sensory and cognitive deficits as well

6. Speech and Gait disturbances cannot be cured by medicine; Rehab is still important in these field of PD treatment

7. Punding- is a term used for obessessive-compulsive traits in PD; fascination, repetitive manipulation of technical equipment, continual examining and handlling of common objects

8. After five years of L-dopa tx- 50% of patients will develop motor fluctuations

9. Polio foot is mostly inverted; the good foot is everted (for wider base of support)

10. Most severe pain in post polio syndrome: knees, legs, wrists; pain is caused by overfatigue or overexertion

11. Foot deformity-most common deformity in polio (not genu recurvatum)

12. Magnets are effective in tx of pain et fatigue; Non-swimming exercises are indicated ( cold intolerance)

13. One sign of migraine is a common fear to stay in a dark room ( claustrophobia); migraine is a throbbing headache accompanied with nausea et vomitting with a pain scale of at least 6; lower than 6 p/s is not a migraine

14. Headache alarms:

• sudden onset - may indicate a stroke
• associated fever- may indicate meningitis or other infectins
• worst headache ever- subarachnoid bleed/ anuerysm
• late onset new headache (for old people)- stroke
• headache associated with mental status changes - tumor/stroke
• increasingly progressive headache- stroke
• focal neurologic signs - tumor/stroke
• assoc. with exertion, valsalva, after sex- aneurysm

15. All anti-hypertensive drugs cause impotence particularly beta-blockers

16. a BP of 160/100 requires combination therapy ( 2 drugs or more)

17. Hypertensive crisis- has a diastole of 120 or 130; Hypertensive emergency - very high BP secondary/ leading to end organ damage requiring immediate BP lowering; Hypertensive urgency- no end-organ damage; correct BP within 24-48 hours

18. If your child is obese by age 14, 80-100% obese for life

19. Signs of arterial occlusion/ disease: pallor, pulselessness, parestheisa, paralysis, polar sensation

20. Venous ulcers of the foot=normal pulses; found usually in peri-malleolar area; arterial ulcers=abnormal/absent pulses, distal digits first affected

I hope you learned something from here. Till I write again. Baboooh

The Presentation

Yesterday was a total victory for me! I slept very late (2:30 am) the night before just to finished the f*****g PowerPoint class presentation I had to do for my class observation. (Remember that time I kept on complaining that the school was teaching us how to be teachers through the use of technology? Internet bullstuff and the like?). Now is the crunchtime for that. I wasn't so sure they were gonna push for a real teaching demo using all those whatevers they meant to tell us. But now, it's here. I have to deal with it.

I have to choose a topic to discuss and the subject matter should be delivered in the technology-based prescription that Dr. H wanted. It was a toss between Neuroanatomy ( The Cranial Nerves and the Autonomic Nervous System) and Orthotics and Prosthetics ( Orthotic Prescription for Special Conditions). I was like ano man? ano nami d man? daw kabudlay gd haw?ah ndi ah daw ok man lng ni ah.pero din di man? tsk tsk. Then after much internal deliberation, I made my choice. The topic that I will discuss is...... ( music)..........................

PAULTHENICS 402! The Christian Filipino Family. Bwahaha teh man!

Fast forward yesterday afternoon. After I finished my pre-internship CI at Saviour Hospital, I rushed home for lunch, another shower, and to shave my beard for my presentation. I f-----g cut my chin ( 2 bloody cuts) while shaving as I seldom shave so I have no engram formation as to the prevention of this event. I put on a light blue striped polo shirt and cream pants and readied myself for the observation.

Finally, it was my turn and I ushered my advisory class inside the computer lab. Dr H then asked for my topic outline. Topic outline? What the hell is that? My mind was racing. And I mentally screamed OH SHIT! Now, I remember. Yah, we were indeed supposed to give a topic outline so she will know the flow of the lecture. I didn't have it but I managed a weak smile and said " err, doc, uhm, topic outline? hehe. do we need to have one? hehe...err, i didn't know kac eh.. hehe.. but, uhm, i promise to make one for you later..hehe" Must've sounded so dumb and stupid there but that is really all there is to say.

I started the class right away. Flashing my grand PowerPoint Presentation for my advisory class. Ha! Ginpulawan ko ubra ni! THIS IS PERFECT! SO ELITE IS SHOULD PUT A COPYRIGHT AFTER I PRESENT THIS PERFECT POWERPOINT! And there I raged, enthusiastically discussing the Christian Filipino Family, slide after slide. I talked about religion and the importance of it to our family. I talked of family worship and going to mass together. I talked about the faith, love, and sacrifice for our family. Damn it! I was so righteous right then and there I could've have been ordained a priest had the Pope witnessed my charisma. Each mouseclick brought on a new slide with color, pictures and words to captivate the class. Masterful presentation. Moving words. I was a cavalier with my perfect powerpoint crap as my lance and my passionate voice as my armor. I reeked in benevolent condescension right from the beginning. And the class was captivated! ( Clap! Clap! Clap!)

Then it was over. Whew! The class dragged their sorry asses out of the room as Dr H called me to discuss my score. I was expecting a high grade based on that PP presentation. Of course, who would be dumb enough not to see my talent in PP presentation! That was the bomb! That was awesome! PERFECT POWERPOINT!...................................

Do you really want to know what happened next? Halos tanan to sa PowerPoint ko sala! BWAHAHAH! Na muna ke absent permi sa ICT training. My presentation it turned out was flooded with errors. Wrong font, wrong font size, wrong colors, wrong background, wrong stuff tanan hahaha. Dr H told me hindi ka ba nakinig. And I answered back "eh, hehe, kasi doc uhm, i thought it would be, erm, okay to be spontaneous, uhm, hehe, pero maganda naman yung kulay d ba? hehe"
Damn, pare, ang tanga ng sagot! Bwahaha...

Fortunately though she made me pass. WOHOO!!! 88% grade ko. Not bad for a technology illiterate person like me. WEEEEEE!!! Oh xa xa matulog nako me clase pako bwas. happy reading weeeee!

Milagroso!

Omg! I witnessed a miracle today. My long dead and cadaveric computer just sparked back into life. I'm a self-confessed technological moron who doesn't know how to fix anything digital, electronic and mechanical thereby degrading myself to the ranks of the lower mammals. Approximately 2 weeks ago, my PC decided to quit on me. How dare it! Without any resignation letter or formal notification, this stupid mechanical contraption found it hilarious to just die out on me. I don't f*****g know what the hell was its problem. The monitor just goes to sleep everytime I turned the PC on. I tried to reattach the wires and and try to fix stuff ( of course I don't know what to fix in this event) but to no avail. Just this morning, I turned to computer on just to check if it will change its mind and get back to work. Still the same effect. I went to my room to watch TV and after awhile I came back out to find that it was back on its feet again. It just turned on.

What the hell is this? Miracle? Or this stupid PC of mine decided to come to work after finding out that the global financial crisis would make it difficult for it to look for a new job elsewhere? Remain my slave, PC! BWAHAHAHA

(Baw linteks ginakulbaan ko i turn off ang comp ke bac ndi nmn ni mgandar bla karun aw.. huhu...galeng ma ubra pako ya...huhuhu)

Feng Feng Cho!

I have so many things to write about but I'm cursed with a damn stupid PC at home. I can only write my blog in school, which for the past week I hadn't frequented coz I have few classes this midterm. Well, anyway, I will try to write short strips to say a few things on my mind. Here is one of them:

Charice will be singing in Obama's inauguration tomorrow, right? I have to admit that I was blown away by this lady's vocal prowess the first time I saw and heard her sing on TV. However, I do believe that she is becoming dangerously too overexposed. She will be singing a true-blooded American song for the inauguration? What the hell is this? Although I'm honored for her being Filipino, I think she doesn't even have the adoptive right to sing that song. And although she may have that very powerful and commanding voice comparable only to the top divas in entertainment namely Mariah, Whitney, Celine and Barbra, I think her overexposure will ultimately lead to an early demise in her career. Why is this so?

First of all, we had to admit that Charice is not lovely to look at. It is true. Charice is not blessed with beauty. She makes up for this, though, through her likeability factor, which is necessary if you want to be a star. I am worried, however, that her not-so-good looks will get the better of the two. In fact, I believe that until recently people only want to hear her belt out the high notes and they don't really listen much to the rest of the song. I don't find any kind of uniqueness in her voice if she is just singing the so-so simple melody which may explain why her song, It Can Only Get Better, didn't do so well even here in the country.

Secondly, Charice is not a pop-class singer. She is more of a balladeer type. Some might argue that she can make up for it with her great voice. However, we have to realize that hitting the high notes isn't that "cool" anymore. Most memorable ballads were sung in the 70s-90s. Therefore, it isn't cool for a 15-yr-old to sing them ALL the time. Old people who sing old songs and hitting the high notes is good but heck a 15-year-old? Voice alone will not make up for it, too. Martin Nievera has a good voice and he still continues to make albums almost every year. Question is: who buys them? eeerrrr...

On the lighter side, Charice, who wisely dropped here family name Pempengco (ka pangsut), was able to wow both Oprah and Ellen which is a major boost to any one's popularity. And David Foster, that singer songwriter who few people know about (but who I knew even before Charice came out coz I like his music), is on Charice's side which is another plus for her.

At the end of the day, she has to make the best of it while it lasts. I honestly hope it lasts. She is one great voice so to say, although not a pretty one.

Waste of Time!

I'm totally wasting my time now. I am obliged to attend this seminar-training crap that is supposed to teach us to become teachers. Duh! Something like using technology to improve teaching efficacy. Powerpoint thing and internet sourcing. Watdapak! Waste of time!

First of all, I am a very low-tech person. Kung sa cheese curls pa tanan kamo Pringles na, ako ya nasa PeeWee stage pa lang! I don't need powerpoint to teach. I feel comfortable mgwakal-wakal kag mgsulat chalk sa blackboard! Anhon mo kung perfect ang imo powerpoint kung wala man may matun-an ang studyante sa imo? aber aber....

Second, this takes up a lot of my precious time. I should have spent this time drinking beer and sleeping till kingdom come.

Watdapak! Help me! Help me! Avah first time ko nag Ilong-lish sa blog ha... whahah

The Face

I went to Dame's house to celebrate the New Year. I brought a book along with me on my way there as I have already started reading it. The title of the book is The Face by Dean Koontz.

I became a big fan of Dean Koontz right after reading Intensity which is probably one of the handful of books I refused to put down eventhough it was way past bedtime. For those who don't know Dean Koontz, he is a master thriller writer at par with Stephen King. Yes, that famous Stephen King. The main difference is that most of Stephen King's novels are of epic catastrophes where the events occur for weeks, months or years. Stephen King is (was) a visionary of horrific and armageddonian (if there is such a word) masterpieces in which, unfortunately, Hollywood was able to catch up to. In any event, people would rather see War of the Worlds or I am Legend than read Stephen King books having the same theme. Dean Koontz, on the other hand, writes about serial killers and supernatural events with only a few main characters participating in his suspense thrillers. And the events just take place in a few days or a week.

The book that I read, The Face (2004), was a great read. Not exceptional but great. The story revolves around an ex-cop-turned bodyguard to the most dazzling Hollywood star known as the Face. The bodygaurd has to protect the Face's son who is a target of a deranged and dangerous anarchist plotting to kidnap him. Just right before Christmas, the famous mansion of the Face is empty save for a few security personnel, the bodyguard Ethan and the Face's son, Fric. The anarchist sets out a most daring plan to penetrate the impenetrable security features of the mansion and kidnap the son.

Overall, the novel is fast-paced with a dash of comedy to lighten up the mood. The description of how sick the anarchist was perfectly painted and his evil oozes out of the pages. My only concern was that there were a few subplots that were not relevant to the story. And before the twists start to unfold another subplot of pure irrelevance is added up murkying the story.

The ending was fantastic. It had a subtle suggestion that human ideation of beauty, such as their adoration for the Face, would pale to the highest degree if you see the Face of the divine. Overall the book didn't left me wanting. It left me satisfied and high with the Christmas spirit.

Nakapauli na si Toto Dyud!

I'm sorry for the fans I disappointed these past few weeks. I went on a holiday, all expense paid trip, in Varzditumerchgotiv, Iceland. I wasn't able to write much since then. But now that I'm back, I can finally write again. Hmmm, I saved my pictures during the trip and I will upload it as soon as my computer is fixed.

Varzditumerchgotiv is a city 150 miles south of Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland. Together with other members of WAGW (Warriors Against Global Warming), we spent a week frolicking in the snow and I even learned how to ski. I loved their traditional food called skyr, although I couldn't quite distinguish what kind of meat it is. It wasn't long however before I started missing Pilipinas.

Now that I'm back I can start writing again.

Happy New Year you fools!