The Boy Mistook You for a Purple Toothbrush

the king is dead. long live the king.
		Friday, 26 June 2009; 07:13 AM
	Michael Jackson is dead 2:06 PM \| June 25, 2009 Updated at 3:15 p.m.: Pop star Michael Jackson was pronounced dead by doctors this afternoon after arriving at a hospital in a deep coma, city and law enforcement sources told The Times. Updated at 2:46 p.m.: Jackson is in a coma and his family is arriving at his bedside, a law enforcement source told The Times. Jackson was rushed to Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center this afternoon by Los Angeles Fire Department paramedics. Fire Capt. Steve Ruda said paramedics responded to a call at Jackson's home at 12:26 p.m. He was not breathing when they arrived. The paramedics performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation and took him to the hospital, Ruda told The Times. http://tinyurl.com/moa3ya
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the only thing good about my fake american accent was the title.
		Thursday, 18 June 2009; 02:05 PM
	zai, supporter of local indies, invited a few colleagues to watch the movie in galleria. i have to say i was curious: as a person who works in the industry that the movie is supposed to portray, i wanted to know how the movie will present the call center industry. i was not expecting a very realistic take on it (i mean, we all know doctors and lawyers don't really act that way in really life when we see their screen counterparts, do we?), but i did not expect the movie to be that bad. it was so bad, i'm surprised it was deemed fit for showing. i missed the first 20 minutes when i arrived, but from what i caught afterwards, the story revolves on a small team of call center people. there was the newbie guy, the bland but sensible girl, the efficient SME (subject matter expert), the rebellious semi-gothette, the fashion-conscious guy, and the team leader from hell. right away i know something was missing: where was the token gay person? this is an industry teaming with all sorts gay people and not one of the cast was gay. and by "story", i was stretching things a bit. what passes as the "story" was a series of uninteresting sketches on some of the more common call center stereotypes: getting shouted out by customers, getting mugged, anonymous sex, overbreak stories. one scene jaggedly shifts to another scene without anything making sense. perfunctory dialogues are left hanging in the air and seemed to be part of the movie only because the production team remembered that the characters ought to be talking. i wasn't really expecting too much. i know people who would champion indies as if they are the savior of the philippine movie industry when in fact a of indies are little more than a pile of droppings. sure, there are a couple of indies that presented movies that innovative and free of the formulas of commercial cinema but that was because of a combination of good story, production, acting and post-production. if they had a big production company backing them up without restricting artistic freedom, they would still have made a good movie. being independently produced does not necessarily make a movie better. but i wasn't expecting the movie to be this bad. a movie that presents itself as an "art" film (this movie was part of cinemalaya, after all, and so we could assume it aspire to be some movie) could say something about its subject, maybe distoring reality in the name of artistic license so it could deliver its point. or it could imitate reality and present things as they seem. or it could do both. this movie did neither. or it did things halfway but lost sight of what exactly were they trying to do. oh, to anyone who worked in the call center industry it will look familiar, in the way that an imitation iphone looks familiar. and yet i expect call center agents watching the movie will frequently snigger because what they see onscreen is not how things really happen. not that people would mind that if there was interesting drama shown instead but there wasn't any either. who's the main character in the movie again? i kind of lost it after the eighth subplot. sure, i could complain all i want about the story and people could say i simply have too much expectations. but i will counter, what about minor technicalities? like one should never see cameras reflected on glass in a movie. or is it too much to ask for decent sound editing; one where the dialogue volume is consistent? this is a cinemalaya-sponsored movie; i've seen students films that are way better made than this. it simply was a waste of money. my co-workers asked if i want to stay and watch the beginning of the movie but i said i wasn't willing to waste my time further.
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Soleil all over you, warm sun pours over me.

Thursday, 18 June 2009; 09:33 AM

mood:

nostalgic

Faith pours from your walls, drowning you calls.
I've tried to hear, you're not near.
Remembering when I saw your face
Shining my way, pure timing.
Now I've fallen in deep slow silent sleep.
It's killing me, I'm dying

To put a little sunshine in your life...

meditate on this

echos-only please, already.
		Thursday, 11 June 2009; 06:11 AM
	i don't see the point in forcing people at work to speak only in english if there are no attempts to correct incorrect grammar, neutralize accent or avoid "filipinisms"; what ends up happening is that people continue to practice language mistakes. the reason the english-only policy was implemented was to improve people's language skills, and yet there doesn't seem to be any concrete effort in that regard. people are just making up for their initial lack of confidence in speaking a second language by talking louder and acting more obnoxious while they continue to malign a language they won't bother to learn properly.
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birthday blues.
		Sunday, 07 June 2009; 02:50 PM
	next year's birthday will not be spent working. nobody should spend their birthdays working alone. it makes one think of opening a window and jumping off from the 15th floor. it's not fun. right now i have to think of the friends i'm expecting later. i haven't decided what to cook. it's either pasta or curry. i could use the bacon for an alfredo sauce. and my alfredo isn't too bad now. man, i want these things i'm doing over and done with so i could go home. i have to stop and write every couple of minutes or i will start attacking the guard on this floor. i hope i won't end up collapsing later.
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The strip is a few days old but it's like five layers of various in-jokes.
		Friday, 05 June 2009; 10:04 AM

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those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

Tuesday, 02 June 2009; 06:39 PM

mood:

calm

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head
B.J. Thomas

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me

It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me

meditate on this

i need a vacation.
		Monday, 01 June 2009; 07:43 PM
	it's almost like a joke, how i always say that but never really do anything about it. i mean, filing a leave should be too easy, isn't it? but i never do. i wish i could just go on feeling sorry for myself and just curl up and hibernate somewhere away from people, stand next to a cliff and catch kids who might fall off. but then i talk to people who have worse problems and it's rude to ignore them talk but could we just talk about me now? COULD I JUST TALK ABOUT MYSELF? but i have nothing to say, goddammit.
		meditate on this

I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain).
		Sunday, 24 May 2009; 04:19 AM
	Missing Everything but the Girl Step off the train I'm walkin' down your street again And pass your door But you don't live there anymore It's years since you've been there And now you've disappeared somewhere Like outer space You've found some better place And I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you oh (Like the deserts miss the rain) Could you be dead? You always were two steps ahead Of everyone We'd walk behind while you would run I look up at your house And I can almost hear you shout, down to me Where I always used to be And I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain) Back on the train I ask why did I come again Can I confess? I've been hangin' 'round your old address And the years have proved To offer nothin' since you moved You're long gone But I can't move on And I miss you oh-oh (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you, yeah (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you I step off the train I'm walkin' down your street again Pass your door I guess you don't live there anymore It's years since you've been there And now you've disappeared somewhere Like outer space You've found some better place And I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you, yeah (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you, and I miss you (Like the deserts miss the rain) And I miss you, yeah (Like the deserts miss the rain) Deserts miss the rain (Like the deserts miss the rain) Like the deserts miss the rain (Like the deserts miss the rain)

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