Bora! Bora! Bora!

Last April Abe, Lenlen, Tin, and I worked in a clinic in Boracay. According to the chief resident, Chepoy, the primary requirement for the doctors is to make "chika to the highest level" to all patients– no uncomfortable silences, no tapping of pens while waiting for lab results, and such. Being a schizoid this proved to be quite a challenge for me, but I surprised–and quite annoyed–myself most of the time. One 11 pm, though, I was spent and had no small talk left in me:

German woman: Thanks for cleaning my wound. How long do we have to wait for this anti-tetanus skin test?
Me: Er… (in horror) 30 minutes.
German woman: Okay.
Me: So.
German woman: So.
Me: So how long have you been in Boracay?
German woman: 2 weeks.
Me: Wonderful. Can you tell me ALL the activities you’ve had so far?

   And thus was 30 minutes consumed.

June 2007

HHS

My sister gave me a slice of Red Ribbon’s choco peanut butter mousse, and being a glutton I scooped out one spoonful and rammed it down my throat, after which I immediately fell in a coma, obviously in a state of HONK, HHS, or whatever fancy acronym it’s called now. I then remembered that after watching Spider-Man 3 a few weeks ago, my friend Namtab Pots who was trying to recover from dysthymia bought a 1000-piece JLA puzzle and one whole Red Ribbon choco peanut butter mousse cake— all for himself. He finished the entire thing.

How I Would Die

In the wonderful X-Files Season 3 episode Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose written by Darin Morgan, Peter Boyle plays an unwilling clairvoyant whose powers are limited to seeing how a person would die. Fittingly, he works as a life insurance salesman. This episode is memorable for hundreds of things, but the best ones that come to mind are when Clyde predicts that Mulder would die of autoerotic asphyxiation, and when he predicts that Scully won’t die, ever. I’ve just been pondering on my own mortality these past few weeks. Ten years ago I wanted to die in a superheroic way, sort of like blocking a disintegrating beam from hitting someone I care for. I still want to die that way, but now that I have a wider perspective, I know that dying from, say, COPD or cancer are now more probable. In any case I want Tori Amos’ 1,000 Oceans playing in my funeral.


June 2007

Wailing and Whining

I deal with fictional stress by whining to myself, writing pointless self-destructive, pretentious purple prose, contemplating suicide, and other melodramatic crap. Fictional stress is how I now categorize supposed existential crisis, quarter-life confusion, career misdirections, scratched action figures, and other things I mostly complain about. On the other hand, I deal with genuine stress by denying it exists, totally blocking it from my head, and when I can no longer contain it, by sleeping. One of my first year college professors said that sleeping problems off is not a good way to deal, because then you’d just sleep your whole life. Which is actually not a bad idea. I want to wake up really old, in the retiring age, preferably in an isolated island. With TV and books.


May 2007

Different Seasons

I’ve just discovered with glee that I have a copy of Stephen King’s Different Seasons after a desperate rummaging through my shelf for an unread book, and suddenly remembered that I’ve been putting off reading this for quite a while. I am thoroughly enjoying reading it despite its length, King is the type of book you could just read and lose yourself in. This book is composed of four novellas (stories not short enough to be a short story or long enough to be a novel), all of which I recommend. For those of you who’ve enjoyed the excellent first season of Prisonbreak, you will enjoy Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption. And for those of you who’ve wept and became emotionally invested in Tuesday’s With Morrie, Apt Pupil is the story for you. Hah.


May 2007

Like A High School English Exercise: How My Day Went

I just have this neurotic compulsion to document my day. I woke up.
Checked my mail. Read 2 back issues of Birds of Prey written by Chuck
Dixon. Took the bus to Magallanes to have my retainers checked by my
dentist. Said dentist asked me once again for my plans in life and I
realized once again that I don’t have any. Then went to Druid’s Keep,
my favorite comicbook/collectible shop, and looked for action figures
and comic books. Realized I have no money, and just watched the
businessmen in their 30s saying this: "hey I like this Spiderman
figurine. P20,000? OK I’ll get one. I’ll also have four of those
Simpsons talking pens. Wait I already have Apu. I missed the last five
issues of 52. Please bag them. I’ll also have the complete set of
Superman/Batman series 3." I quietly slinked away, not buying anything.
Walked from Magallanes to the Mantrade MRT station, surprised that all
the pirated DVD vendors were gone. Ate Kenny Rogers Fried Chicken
Sandwich. Bought The Greatest Batman Stories Ever Told volume 2 in
National Bookstore. Saw Richard Matheson’s short story collection
featuring the story made into a fun Twilight Zone episode and Simpsons
Treehouse of Terror parody where a monster was trying to dismantle a
plane. Realized I want a copy of Twilight Zone episodes, all 156 of it.
My favorite is "It’s a Good Life!" featuring the evil Bill Mumy, which
was also parodied in the Simpsons, where Homer was transformed into a
Jack-in-the-Box. Realized in just a couple of months the Simpsons movie
would be out, after 18 years of waiting. I hope it won’t suck.


May 13, 2007

Mulder and Scully Recommend

The Digest of Philippine Genre Stories

Now on its 2nd issue, PGS is the kind of local mag I’ve been waiting for

for a long time. I’ve always thought that we have a shortage of short

story outlets here, Free Press, Graphic, and Story Phils as the only

ones coming to mind.As the first of its kind PGS is certainly a breath

of fresh air for readers and "genre" writers alike. I’ve highly enjoyed

both issues. I did find a couple of stories to be difficult to grasp,

though, which have been written, as my friend Huntress described "as if

the target audience were creative writing and lit majors", but I

understand that it’s always very tricky to balance entertainment value

and quality. The two shouldn’t be mutually exclusive in the first

place, of course, and PGS is rapidly mastering the mix. It’s nice that

there are stories written by those already established within the

literary circle, and those who are just emerging. And I like the pulp

fiction magazine format, like the ones you could fold longitudinally

and place in the back pocket of your jeans. So far a lot of the

"genres" have been covered, and I’m looking forward to stories about

mutants from outer space! Aliens! Superheroes! Quirky detectives! Nazi

cannibals! The campier the better! I think it would help the magazine’s

longevity is if they include stories in Filipino and a lot of stories

that are easy and fun to read. We know what they are–those that are

direct to the point, not too contemplative, not too descriptive, not

too thesaurus-requiring–those that aim to entertain, not impress.

Mulder and Scully’s picks: Issue 1- Insomnia; Issue 2- The Final

Interview. Let’s support this endeavor!

May 13, 2007