Social Science 3, Write-up Number 4
(Plagiarize and die. :D )
From the Streets of Malate, With Love
“The days of inspiration, playing hookey, making something out of nothing, the need to express, to communicate, to going against the grain, going insane...”
The sun was almost at the horizon when the march culminated in Orosa Street. The base was too loud at first, but not loud enough to overpower the excited babble in the air. The marchers were cheering, posing for photographs, and waving their banners proudly in the air. There were cameras, of course, snapping away at every opportunity and in every direction. The entire scene looked like something out of Rent production number. I could almost hear “La Vie Boheme” blaring in the background—thus the opening line.
It was an event unlike any other I’ve been to so far. The Pride March, held last December 6, 2008, was both a fun social activity and a political statement.
The marchers, composed of LGBTs (lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders) and their friends and family, gathered in Remedios Circle to make a stand. Beneath the smiles and the costumes, they were there for more than just a show. From Vishnu to Darna, from masked males dancing topless to gay performers in all their glamour, they took to the streets with heads held high, their campaign for equal rights louder than ever.
In one of the participants’ words: “We are doing this because we value individuality. We want social awareness and respect. We are tired of society judging us.”
A myriad of LGBT groups were present during the event, among them 1 Bacardi, Project Equality, the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Philippines (UUPhilippines), TransPilipina, and UP Babaylan.
They were not the only marchers, however. On an opposite street stood those who were against the parade, in their “Trust Jesus” shirts, their banners in red and black, all but condemning the LGBTs. Two hours before the parade itself, tension was already brewing. Although the ratio was 5:1 in favor of the LGBT crowd, their presence, however minute, was the staunch reminder of the very issue they were fighting against. One of the organizers stood in the middle of the street and yelled “Go home!” to no avail. We were later told that it was the first time that the “religious” were so outspoken.
“To riding your bikes midday past the three- piece suits, to fruits, to no absolutes...”
Or in this case, riding their kalesas midday past the three-piece suits. Our Soc Sci 3 class, along with the other section, was behind the Transgender group who was riding in style in horse-drawn kalesas. The interesting thing about Malate is that the high-end establishments stand side by side with the “bars.” You have, on one hand, 1500-a-night hotels, and on the other, what Michel Foucault would call the realm of the “Other Victorians.”
On the day of the parade, it seemed as if they all came out to watch. At one point we interviewed hotel staff, who were more than happy with the event. A manager, impeccably dressed in Americana, said that they definitely should be given their rights—the operative term being, after all, human rights. A guard jokingly asked “Nasaan si Piolo?” but which also made me wonder why there were no celebrities in the event. We also passed groups of gays in their work uniforms who were cheering loudly for those on the floats.
Some taxi drivers said that they had no idea what the event actually was, and referred to it as “baklaan.” Most of the people who were watching, however, were amused and reacted positively. Some foreigners, who turned out to be missionaries, said that it was interesting to see the event outside of the States.
Another thing that I found interesting was the views of those on the other side, people we loosely dubbed “antis.” Upon talking to them, I realized that “antis” was not a proper term—perhaps “concerned citizens” was more politically correct. They said that they did not hate the LGBTs; in fact, they loved them and that’s why they wanted to help them change. “They are a rebellious generation: they go against God and logic. This is not rational and they are living a lie. They are also living in lust. They must turn to the gospels and change their lifestyles.”
A 1 Bacardi member, when presented with this comment, laughed and said, “We don’t want to change. We are proud of who we are. We are not a living a lie, we are being true to ourselves. Lust sila diyan. We are productive homosexuals!!! Hindi ba mas malaking kasalanan ang discrimination?”
“To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension, to starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension...”
Shattering conventions was definitely the name of the game. When one ‘concerned citizen’s’ banner said “Jesus is the Only Way,” a marcher yelled “What about Buddha?!” in reply. The most touching banner I saw, however, was when a mom walked with her son, the sign in front of them saying, “I love my gay son.” A priest and a member of a metropolitan church, onstage in Orosa, told the crowd to face the protesters (who were right behind) and ask, “Would Jesus discriminate?”
My personal favorite was the slogan “Dykes R Us.” “Dyke” is derogatory slang for lesbians, or for lesbians and bisexual women—and yet in this case they decided to own it. It was like saying, in one simple phrase, that “there is nothing wrong with us.”
I also cheered (loudly, I should add) when the feminists, lesbians and bisexuals were speaking on stage. It reminded me of the time Ellen Degeneres said, “So what if I like a girl???” on international television. So what, indeed. Not being “straight,” whatever that actually means, does not make anybody less of a person than anyone else.
“To being an ‘us’ for once, instead of a them...”
“Straight,” “gay” and all the other terms used to classify gender are loaded terms: fraught with denotations. Sometimes it becomes so hard to tell which is fact and which is fiction. And when it comes to something as subjective as gender, there is no black and white.
In the end, the message is pretty clear: No matter who we are, we are all part of this society. We are all equal.
It’s a cliché, but events like this make me realize that the most important lessons are really learned outside the classroom.
My first Pride March is not going to be my last.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Greetings from the Main Library
I just want to tell you guys about something I saw in Shangri-la yesterday.
It made me laugh my head off.
That's right! For those of you who haven't seen yet, Häagen-Dazs has made a line of ice cream flavors dedicated to Twilight!!!
I especially couldn't get over the first one.
DAZZLED AT FIRST SIGHT.
Oh, boy.
It's just so bizarre.
They took it from a conversation, which went something like--
B: You shouldn't do that to people.
E: Do what?
B: You dazzle them!
E: Oh, Do I dazzle you?
B: Yes, you're dazzling me again!
--which is, oh, I don't know, is on the list of the cheesiest dialogues in history. This was actually one of the jokes my friends and I laughed about for days. Imagine my shock when I saw ice cream named in its honor.
THE KISS IN THE MEADOW is the piggy-back ride part. Hahaha. What in the world.
CLAIRE DE LUNE is great. Given the circumstances. It's the only non-laughter-inducing title.
They call it the "Taste of Twilight," by the way.
The book was bad enough, the movie I don't know yet, and ice cream is ice cream, but when you put it this way... Well... I don't think I'll be able to stomach the "taste of twilight" without guffawing.
(For those who actually want to bite into this, pardon the pun, it's available in all Häagen-Dazs outlets until December 20.)
Whatever shall they think of next?
I will hold my breath. I'm sure they'll think of something soon.
I just want to tell you guys about something I saw in Shangri-la yesterday.
It made me laugh my head off.
That's right! For those of you who haven't seen yet, Häagen-Dazs has made a line of ice cream flavors dedicated to Twilight!!!
I especially couldn't get over the first one.
DAZZLED AT FIRST SIGHT.
Oh, boy.
It's just so bizarre.
They took it from a conversation, which went something like--
B: You shouldn't do that to people.
E: Do what?
B: You dazzle them!
E: Oh, Do I dazzle you?
B: Yes, you're dazzling me again!
--which is, oh, I don't know, is on the list of the cheesiest dialogues in history. This was actually one of the jokes my friends and I laughed about for days. Imagine my shock when I saw ice cream named in its honor.
THE KISS IN THE MEADOW is the piggy-back ride part. Hahaha. What in the world.
CLAIRE DE LUNE is great. Given the circumstances. It's the only non-laughter-inducing title.
They call it the "Taste of Twilight," by the way.
The book was bad enough, the movie I don't know yet, and ice cream is ice cream, but when you put it this way... Well... I don't think I'll be able to stomach the "taste of twilight" without guffawing.
(For those who actually want to bite into this, pardon the pun, it's available in all Häagen-Dazs outlets until December 20.)
Whatever shall they think of next?
I will hold my breath. I'm sure they'll think of something soon.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Book Review: New Moon
Let us take a moment to mourn literature.
I am not even going to attempt to be serious with reviewing this. All attempts of being serious about Twilight and its children are futile. Not to mention highly inappropriate.
BOOK REVIEW: NEW MOON
SUMMARY AND CRITICISM
New moon, the second installment of the Garb-- Twilight Series, began where the first book left off, with Mary Sue Meyer and Edward in the throes of chaste passion. What's that? Bella Swan? Nah, believe me, that was Mary Sue. And they were mostly still just staring googly-eyed at each other.
On Mary Sue's 18th birthday, the sparkling vampire family threw her a sparkling party. Due to Meyerrific creativity, the conflict begins when Mary Sue gets a papercut (yes, it bled... wait, what?), thus causing Jasper to attempt to suck her dry. Edward prevents this from happening via really fast footwork and snarling.
Moments afterward, Edward and the other sparkling vampires left Spoons-- I mean Forks-- to avoid any further mishaps. The old "I must leave to protect you" kind of thing.
Yep, he broke up with her, and she ended up unconscious with disbelief on the forest floor, after wandering aimlessly chanting "Edward, Edward, Edward..." Not exactly, but close. It's true, when your boyfriend breaks up with you, you must lose your sanity.
Then Stepheni-- I mean Bell-- I mean, Mary Sue launched into what has got to be The Longest post-breakup drama in the history of mankind. She became a self-declared zombie; withdrawn, not able to think about anything else but Edward's hair, Edward's voice, Edward's eyes, Edward's hands, Edward's skin, Edward's... you get the idea. She also had nightmares and screamed herself awake for the next, oh, 6 months, because of the "gaping hole" in her heart. I kid you not.
At the mere mention of the name "Edward," she went all diva like this:
"I shook my head, recoiling. The sound of his name unleashed the thing that was clawing inside of me—a pain that knocked me breathless, astonished me with its force."
and this:
"His name sent another wave of torture through me."
Boring, the "I am depressed, hear me whine" lament. Seriously, she didn't say anything else.
By the hundredth page of this "I miiisssss Edwaaard sooo muchhh, boo hoo hoo," Mary Sue discovered that when she placed herself in danger, she could hear Edwardo's voice telling her to, well, get herself out of danger. So she gets herself into more danger. Brilliant ploy, yes.
She turned to the most dangerous, most death-defying thing she could think of: motorcycles. I know right. So she took two motorcycles from the scrap heap and brought them to Jacob Black in La Push. Jacob is also known as "only non-cardboard character in Twilight."
Mary Sue: College, schmollege, I thought to myself. It wasn't like I'd saved up enough to go anywhere special—and besides, I had no desire to leave Forks anyway. What difference would it make if I skimmed a little bit off the top?
This was the part where she was getting the motorcycles fixed so she could slam herself into a tree with it, and needed money for parts. And the "no desire to leave Forks" thing? She could not bear to leave Forks for it had all her memories of Edward. Nothing, repeat, NOTHING is worth living for except Edward. Without Edward, the sun does not shine and the rivers do not flow... Life is not life without Edward, oh you dazzling, wonderfully sparkling vampire you (excuse me while I laugh my head off at this idiocy).
Mary Sue (On motorcycles): Many of the words they used were unfamiliar to me, and I figured I'd have to have a Y chromosome to really understand the excitement.
I don't even want to ponder upon the implications of that statement.
So anyway, when she started hanging out with Jacob, she stopped thinking about Edward. And what did she think of? Jacob!!! Meyerrific logic.
Mary Sue: I enjoyed myself. I was beginning to think it was mostly Jacob. It wasn't just that he was always so happy to see me, or that he didn't watch me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for me to do something that would mark me as crazy or depressed. It was nothing that related to me at all. It was Jacob himself. Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried that happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder I was so eager to see him.
Oh, look, an earthbound sun and its gravitational pull. Just... wow.
Mary Sue (on Leah Clearwater): She was beautiful in an exotic way—perfect copper skin, glistening black hair, eyelashes like feather dusters...
Eh?
Mary Sue: I was beginning to get annoyed with myself.
Good for you, you're catching on. I was annoyed with you a book and a half ago.
Alors. Must fast-forward, I'm getting bored. So Mary Sue, now somewhat out of depression, went to La Push and got on the reaaally dangerous motorcycle and made this comment:
"I tried to tell myself that the fear [of riding the motorcycle] was pointless. I'd already lived through the worst thing possible [breakup]. In comparison with that, why should anything frighten me now? [Yes, why?] I should be able to look death in the face and laugh."
So deep!
Then when she started the reaaally dangerous motorcycle, she heard Edward's voice telling her to stop. But she wanted to hear the sparkly vampire's voice again so she didn't.
She went reaaally fast, heard the sparkly vampire in her head saying "stop, stupid!" (fine, not exactly) and, surprise surprise, hit a tree. Her head split open.
Gas wafted out instead of brain matter.
The End.
Okay, not the end. I just wish it was.
Jacob took her to the hospital. On the way, she said:
"I just hadn't realized before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"
Er, yeah. And Edwardo...? Never mind. Ew.
She got stitched up and went home. Then...
Mary Sue: I panicked, worried that Charlie [dad] was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push, and consequently my motorcycle. And I wasn't giving it up—I'd had the most amazing hallucination today. My velvet-voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minutes before I'd hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into the tree. I'd take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without complaint.
Even now I'm still not sure if this series isn't just a joke.
A bad joke.
Or satire. But Meyer's not that deep, so no.
This would be much, much more tolerable if this were satire.
Mary Sue (ranting, again): There had to be a place where he seemed more real than among all the familiar landmarks that were crowded with other human memories.I could think of one place where that might hold true. One place that would always belong to him and no one else. A magic place, full of light. The beautiful meadow I'd seen only once in my life, lit by sunshine and the sparkle of his skin.
Gag.
Eventually, Jacob professed his love for Mary Sue, right before (or was it after?) he found out he was a werewolf. Yeah, yeah, Mary Sue's life is so exciting. He left Mary Sue to figure out that he was a werewolf, which unsurprisingly took forever given her lack of a proper brain. But of course, her heart was still with Edwardo.
Jacob distanced himself, and Bella-Stephenie-Mary Sue went:
"Jacob was better, but not well enough to call me. He was out with friends. I was sitting home, missing him more every hour. I was lonely, worried, bored… perforated—and now also desolate as I realized that the week apart had not had the same effect on him."
Desolate? Perforated?
Sigh.
That paragraph takes the Nobel for Literature, no question.
The Feminist Book of the Year Award too.
And makes me want to hit Meyer over the head with her own thesaurus.
Mary Sue then revisited the meadow. Remember the meadow they had their date/ piggyback ride on?
There, she found Laurent, the other vampire who was with James (main antagonist, book 1) and Victoria (main antagonist's girlfriend). He also wants to kill her, I wonder why. Long story short, Jacob and the other werewolves saved Mary Sue and killed Laurent.
Wait, I just can't not mention this: "Charlie's eyes grew round with horror. He strode quickly to me and grabbed the tops of my arms."
Hmmm. Anatomy, Mary Sue style.
So, it turned out that the other vampire,Victoria, was hunting Mary Sue down. The werewolves, who wanted to protect Mary Sue, hunted Victoria. They didn't find her. They also welcomed Mary Sue into the "pack."
This is the part where Meyer totally plagiarized her other cra-- book, Twilight. She replaced every "vampire" with "werewolf"; every "Edward" with "Jacob"; every "James" with "Victoria"; every "Carlisle" with "Sam"; every "Esme" with "Emily," and so on.
It was such Meyerrific creativity. It takes astounding skill to plagiarize yourself.
Moments later, Mary Sue decided, in a fit of "I want to hear Edward's voice," to ditch motorcycling and go cliff-diving. So she went to La Push, la pushed herself off the cliff, and plunged straight into the riptide. She would've (should've) drowned, but Jacob rescued her.
Meanwhile, in Sparklyland, Alice saw that Mary Sue jumped off. She didn't see that Jacob rescued her though. So Alice went back to Spoons to check on Charlie, Stephenie's dad. I meant Bella's dad. Oh wait, that's Mary Sue's dad. Never mind they're one and the same.
Edward, the sparkliest of them all, called Sue's house, looking for Charlie. Jacob, who answered the phone said that he was "at the funeral," and Sparkly assumed that he meant it was Mary Sue's funeral. How I wish.
Anyway, Edward goes, "Oh no, I cannot live without Bella/ Stephenie Meyer/ Mary Sue!!! I must kill myself!!!" Idiocy goes both ways, people.
So he flew off to Italy to find the Jonas Brothers-- I mean, the Volturi-- the only vampires who can kill other vampires. (As opposed to the only boy band who can kill other boy bands.)
I know, OMG! That is like, sooo sinister.
By the way, the Volturi realm is called VOLTERRA. Bet you didn't see that coming.
Alice quickly realized that Mary Sue Meyer, unfortunately, wasn't actually dead and decided to fly to Italy with Mary Sue to stop Edward from making fish food out of himself. Sparkly fish food? Gross.
Apparently, the Volturi kill vampires who want to expose their secret. So Edwardo decided on walking out into the sunlight and "glowing, shimmering like his skin was made of a million diamond facets" so that people would know he's supernatural. Again, gross.
Mary Sue got to Italy just in time, and threw herself at Edward, literally. (Wait, she's been doing that forever, what's new.) The Volturi foot soldiers, relieved that Edward did not get to, you know, sparkle, invited Edward back to The Lair and told him to bring Mary Sue along.
Joe, Kevin and Nick then made their grand entrance. Wait, no. That's Aro, Caius and Marcus. Really. With Miley Cyrus and the cast of Hannah Montana. Uh, I mean, Jane and the other vampires of Volterra. (Why am I seeing this parallelism?!)
Anyway. They said that Mary Sue Meyer, who has knowledge of vampires, must be killed or must be turned into a vampire herself. Mary Sue, who wanted to change species for the love of her life all along, was pleased. Mr. Sparkly wasn't, because he didn't want her to be eternally damned. Alice, who was with them kind of promised to turn Mary Sue into a vampire if they let all of them get back safely home.
They did get home. Awww. Yeah, right. Back in Spoons, the Cullens decided to vote on whether Mary Sue should really be turned sparkly. Edward and Rosalie were the only ones who said no. Carlisle was the one who would do it--after graduation.
Edward: "If you don't mind, I'd much rather you didn't hide your face. I've lived without it for as long as I can stand. Now… tell me something."
Mary Sue: "What?"
Edward: "If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?"
Mary Sue: "You."
Edward: "Something you don't already have."
Excuse me, again, while I laugh my head off. Good lord this book is just hilarious. And then, Edward asks Mary Sue to marry him. She was saying no, but just when I thought she had a brain... No, no. The reason she was saying no was that her mother wouldn't like it.
When Edward got back into the scene it was just cheese. And cheese. And cheese. I couldn't stop laughing. But I won't paste those lines here, you need to see it for yourself. Coupled with the bad writing, well, a critic can't ask for more.
"Epilogue Treaty."
Everything is back to normal in Spoons, with Edward in all of Mary Sue's classes and them spending every waking and sleeping moment together, literally. College is still Plan B, congratulations. In her words, "The fairy tale was back on. Prince returned, bad spell broken."
Wait, wait. It's not over yet. I need to put this here, for all my feminist friends.
"Thank you," Edward said, and his voice throbbed with the depth of his sincerity. "I will never be able to tell you how grateful I am. I will owe you for the rest of my… existence."
Jacob stared at him blankly, his shudders stilled by surprise. He exchanged a quick glance with me, but my face was just as mystified.
"For keeping Bella alive," Edward clarified, his voice rough and fervent. "When I… didn't."
Fabulous statement, I know. Edward and Jacob: Mary Sue Life-support Machines. Because she can't survive without a guy telling her to "inhale, exhale... inhale, exhale." What? You thought she could? How could you?!
So, how did it end? For all those fortunate creatures who didn't read this, here:
Edward squeezed me gently. "I'm here."
I drew in a deep breath.
That was true.
Edward was here, with his arms around me.
I could face anything as long as that was true.
I squared my shoulders and walked forward to meet my fate, with my destiny solidly at my side.
Awww... NOT.
RANDOM BITS:
---"He sighed a heavy sigh."
(And later)
---"I sighed a heavy sigh."
(Then, I sighed a heavy sigh.)
---"Emily," he said, and so much love saturated his voice that I felt embarrassed...
(Romantic AND scientific.)
--- "...promptly at nine by a grimly gleeful Charlie..."
(How's that for masterful writing skill?)
---"...I have lost the truest of true loves, as if that wasn't enough to kill anyone..."
(Just priceless.)
But I don't want to be that unfair. (Really?) Here's a part I liked:
"It's not a trick. It's Carlisle. Take me back!"
A shudder rippled through his wide shoulders, but his eyes were flat and emotionless. "No."
"Jake, it's okay—"
"No. Take yourself back, Bella." His voice was a slap—I flinched as the sound of it struck me. His jaw clenched and unclenched."Look, Bella," he said in the same hard voice. "I can't go back. Treaty or no treaty, that's my enemy in there."
"It's not like that—"
"I have to tell Sam right away. This changes things. We can't be caught on their territory."
"Jake, it's not a war!"
He didn't listen. He put the truck in neutral and jumped out the door, leaving it running.
"Bye, Bella," he called back over his shoulder. "I really hope you don't die."
(Bye, Bella. I really hope you do.)
VERDICT:
Hahaha. Yeah, like you don't know yet. Just when I thought Twilight couldn't get any worse. But I was amused... In a perforated, saturated, desolate sort of way. Of course, I only read part two. You never know. But, really, can it get any worse than "truest of true loves"?!
PS:
Me: Twilight sucks. F*** Edward.
Fangirl: Yes!
Oh. :))
I am not even going to attempt to be serious with reviewing this. All attempts of being serious about Twilight and its children are futile. Not to mention highly inappropriate.
BOOK REVIEW: NEW MOON
SUMMARY AND CRITICISM
New moon, the second installment of the Garb-- Twilight Series, began where the first book left off, with Mary Sue Meyer and Edward in the throes of chaste passion. What's that? Bella Swan? Nah, believe me, that was Mary Sue. And they were mostly still just staring googly-eyed at each other.
On Mary Sue's 18th birthday, the sparkling vampire family threw her a sparkling party. Due to Meyerrific creativity, the conflict begins when Mary Sue gets a papercut (yes, it bled... wait, what?), thus causing Jasper to attempt to suck her dry. Edward prevents this from happening via really fast footwork and snarling.
Moments afterward, Edward and the other sparkling vampires left Spoons-- I mean Forks-- to avoid any further mishaps. The old "I must leave to protect you" kind of thing.
Yep, he broke up with her, and she ended up unconscious with disbelief on the forest floor, after wandering aimlessly chanting "Edward, Edward, Edward..." Not exactly, but close. It's true, when your boyfriend breaks up with you, you must lose your sanity.
Then Stepheni-- I mean Bell-- I mean, Mary Sue launched into what has got to be The Longest post-breakup drama in the history of mankind. She became a self-declared zombie; withdrawn, not able to think about anything else but Edward's hair, Edward's voice, Edward's eyes, Edward's hands, Edward's skin, Edward's... you get the idea. She also had nightmares and screamed herself awake for the next, oh, 6 months, because of the "gaping hole" in her heart. I kid you not.
At the mere mention of the name "Edward," she went all diva like this:
"I shook my head, recoiling. The sound of his name unleashed the thing that was clawing inside of me—a pain that knocked me breathless, astonished me with its force."
and this:
"His name sent another wave of torture through me."
Boring, the "I am depressed, hear me whine" lament. Seriously, she didn't say anything else.
By the hundredth page of this "I miiisssss Edwaaard sooo muchhh, boo hoo hoo," Mary Sue discovered that when she placed herself in danger, she could hear Edwardo's voice telling her to, well, get herself out of danger. So she gets herself into more danger. Brilliant ploy, yes.
She turned to the most dangerous, most death-defying thing she could think of: motorcycles. I know right. So she took two motorcycles from the scrap heap and brought them to Jacob Black in La Push. Jacob is also known as "only non-cardboard character in Twilight."
Mary Sue: College, schmollege, I thought to myself. It wasn't like I'd saved up enough to go anywhere special—and besides, I had no desire to leave Forks anyway. What difference would it make if I skimmed a little bit off the top?
This was the part where she was getting the motorcycles fixed so she could slam herself into a tree with it, and needed money for parts. And the "no desire to leave Forks" thing? She could not bear to leave Forks for it had all her memories of Edward. Nothing, repeat, NOTHING is worth living for except Edward. Without Edward, the sun does not shine and the rivers do not flow... Life is not life without Edward, oh you dazzling, wonderfully sparkling vampire you (excuse me while I laugh my head off at this idiocy).
Mary Sue (On motorcycles): Many of the words they used were unfamiliar to me, and I figured I'd have to have a Y chromosome to really understand the excitement.
I don't even want to ponder upon the implications of that statement.
So anyway, when she started hanging out with Jacob, she stopped thinking about Edward. And what did she think of? Jacob!!! Meyerrific logic.
Mary Sue: I enjoyed myself. I was beginning to think it was mostly Jacob. It wasn't just that he was always so happy to see me, or that he didn't watch me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for me to do something that would mark me as crazy or depressed. It was nothing that related to me at all. It was Jacob himself. Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried that happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder I was so eager to see him.
Oh, look, an earthbound sun and its gravitational pull. Just... wow.
Mary Sue (on Leah Clearwater): She was beautiful in an exotic way—perfect copper skin, glistening black hair, eyelashes like feather dusters...
Eh?
Mary Sue: I was beginning to get annoyed with myself.
Good for you, you're catching on. I was annoyed with you a book and a half ago.
Alors. Must fast-forward, I'm getting bored. So Mary Sue, now somewhat out of depression, went to La Push and got on the reaaally dangerous motorcycle and made this comment:
"I tried to tell myself that the fear [of riding the motorcycle] was pointless. I'd already lived through the worst thing possible [breakup]. In comparison with that, why should anything frighten me now? [Yes, why?] I should be able to look death in the face and laugh."
So deep!
Then when she started the reaaally dangerous motorcycle, she heard Edward's voice telling her to stop. But she wanted to hear the sparkly vampire's voice again so she didn't.
She went reaaally fast, heard the sparkly vampire in her head saying "stop, stupid!" (fine, not exactly) and, surprise surprise, hit a tree. Her head split open.
Gas wafted out instead of brain matter.
The End.
Okay, not the end. I just wish it was.
Jacob took her to the hospital. On the way, she said:
"I just hadn't realized before. Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"
Er, yeah. And Edwardo...? Never mind. Ew.
She got stitched up and went home. Then...
Mary Sue: I panicked, worried that Charlie [dad] was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push, and consequently my motorcycle. And I wasn't giving it up—I'd had the most amazing hallucination today. My velvet-voiced delusion had yelled at me for almost five minutes before I'd hit the brake too abruptly and launched myself into the tree. I'd take whatever pain that would cause me tonight without complaint.
Even now I'm still not sure if this series isn't just a joke.
A bad joke.
Or satire. But Meyer's not that deep, so no.
This would be much, much more tolerable if this were satire.
Mary Sue (ranting, again): There had to be a place where he seemed more real than among all the familiar landmarks that were crowded with other human memories.I could think of one place where that might hold true. One place that would always belong to him and no one else. A magic place, full of light. The beautiful meadow I'd seen only once in my life, lit by sunshine and the sparkle of his skin.
Gag.
Eventually, Jacob professed his love for Mary Sue, right before (or was it after?) he found out he was a werewolf. Yeah, yeah, Mary Sue's life is so exciting. He left Mary Sue to figure out that he was a werewolf, which unsurprisingly took forever given her lack of a proper brain. But of course, her heart was still with Edwardo.
Jacob distanced himself, and Bella-Stephenie-Mary Sue went:
"Jacob was better, but not well enough to call me. He was out with friends. I was sitting home, missing him more every hour. I was lonely, worried, bored… perforated—and now also desolate as I realized that the week apart had not had the same effect on him."
Desolate? Perforated?
Sigh.
That paragraph takes the Nobel for Literature, no question.
The Feminist Book of the Year Award too.
And makes me want to hit Meyer over the head with her own thesaurus.
Mary Sue then revisited the meadow. Remember the meadow they had their date/ piggyback ride on?
There, she found Laurent, the other vampire who was with James (main antagonist, book 1) and Victoria (main antagonist's girlfriend). He also wants to kill her, I wonder why. Long story short, Jacob and the other werewolves saved Mary Sue and killed Laurent.
Wait, I just can't not mention this: "Charlie's eyes grew round with horror. He strode quickly to me and grabbed the tops of my arms."
Hmmm. Anatomy, Mary Sue style.
So, it turned out that the other vampire,Victoria, was hunting Mary Sue down. The werewolves, who wanted to protect Mary Sue, hunted Victoria. They didn't find her. They also welcomed Mary Sue into the "pack."
This is the part where Meyer totally plagiarized her other cra-- book, Twilight. She replaced every "vampire" with "werewolf"; every "Edward" with "Jacob"; every "James" with "Victoria"; every "Carlisle" with "Sam"; every "Esme" with "Emily," and so on.
It was such Meyerrific creativity. It takes astounding skill to plagiarize yourself.
Moments later, Mary Sue decided, in a fit of "I want to hear Edward's voice," to ditch motorcycling and go cliff-diving. So she went to La Push, la pushed herself off the cliff, and plunged straight into the riptide. She would've (should've) drowned, but Jacob rescued her.
Meanwhile, in Sparklyland, Alice saw that Mary Sue jumped off. She didn't see that Jacob rescued her though. So Alice went back to Spoons to check on Charlie, Stephenie's dad. I meant Bella's dad. Oh wait, that's Mary Sue's dad. Never mind they're one and the same.
Edward, the sparkliest of them all, called Sue's house, looking for Charlie. Jacob, who answered the phone said that he was "at the funeral," and Sparkly assumed that he meant it was Mary Sue's funeral. How I wish.
Anyway, Edward goes, "Oh no, I cannot live without Bella/ Stephenie Meyer/ Mary Sue!!! I must kill myself!!!" Idiocy goes both ways, people.
So he flew off to Italy to find the Jonas Brothers-- I mean, the Volturi-- the only vampires who can kill other vampires. (As opposed to the only boy band who can kill other boy bands.)
I know, OMG! That is like, sooo sinister.
By the way, the Volturi realm is called VOLTERRA. Bet you didn't see that coming.
Alice quickly realized that Mary Sue Meyer, unfortunately, wasn't actually dead and decided to fly to Italy with Mary Sue to stop Edward from making fish food out of himself. Sparkly fish food? Gross.
Apparently, the Volturi kill vampires who want to expose their secret. So Edwardo decided on walking out into the sunlight and "glowing, shimmering like his skin was made of a million diamond facets" so that people would know he's supernatural. Again, gross.
Mary Sue got to Italy just in time, and threw herself at Edward, literally. (Wait, she's been doing that forever, what's new.) The Volturi foot soldiers, relieved that Edward did not get to, you know, sparkle, invited Edward back to The Lair and told him to bring Mary Sue along.
Joe, Kevin and Nick then made their grand entrance. Wait, no. That's Aro, Caius and Marcus. Really. With Miley Cyrus and the cast of Hannah Montana. Uh, I mean, Jane and the other vampires of Volterra. (Why am I seeing this parallelism?!)
Anyway. They said that Mary Sue Meyer, who has knowledge of vampires, must be killed or must be turned into a vampire herself. Mary Sue, who wanted to change species for the love of her life all along, was pleased. Mr. Sparkly wasn't, because he didn't want her to be eternally damned. Alice, who was with them kind of promised to turn Mary Sue into a vampire if they let all of them get back safely home.
They did get home. Awww. Yeah, right. Back in Spoons, the Cullens decided to vote on whether Mary Sue should really be turned sparkly. Edward and Rosalie were the only ones who said no. Carlisle was the one who would do it--after graduation.
Edward: "If you don't mind, I'd much rather you didn't hide your face. I've lived without it for as long as I can stand. Now… tell me something."
Mary Sue: "What?"
Edward: "If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?"
Mary Sue: "You."
Edward: "Something you don't already have."
Excuse me, again, while I laugh my head off. Good lord this book is just hilarious. And then, Edward asks Mary Sue to marry him. She was saying no, but just when I thought she had a brain... No, no. The reason she was saying no was that her mother wouldn't like it.
When Edward got back into the scene it was just cheese. And cheese. And cheese. I couldn't stop laughing. But I won't paste those lines here, you need to see it for yourself. Coupled with the bad writing, well, a critic can't ask for more.
"Epilogue Treaty."
Everything is back to normal in Spoons, with Edward in all of Mary Sue's classes and them spending every waking and sleeping moment together, literally. College is still Plan B, congratulations. In her words, "The fairy tale was back on. Prince returned, bad spell broken."
Wait, wait. It's not over yet. I need to put this here, for all my feminist friends.
"Thank you," Edward said, and his voice throbbed with the depth of his sincerity. "I will never be able to tell you how grateful I am. I will owe you for the rest of my… existence."
Jacob stared at him blankly, his shudders stilled by surprise. He exchanged a quick glance with me, but my face was just as mystified.
"For keeping Bella alive," Edward clarified, his voice rough and fervent. "When I… didn't."
Fabulous statement, I know. Edward and Jacob: Mary Sue Life-support Machines. Because she can't survive without a guy telling her to "inhale, exhale... inhale, exhale." What? You thought she could? How could you?!
So, how did it end? For all those fortunate creatures who didn't read this, here:
Edward squeezed me gently. "I'm here."
I drew in a deep breath.
That was true.
Edward was here, with his arms around me.
I could face anything as long as that was true.
I squared my shoulders and walked forward to meet my fate, with my destiny solidly at my side.
Awww... NOT.
RANDOM BITS:
---"He sighed a heavy sigh."
(And later)
---"I sighed a heavy sigh."
(Then, I sighed a heavy sigh.)
---"Emily," he said, and so much love saturated his voice that I felt embarrassed...
(Romantic AND scientific.)
--- "...promptly at nine by a grimly gleeful Charlie..."
(How's that for masterful writing skill?)
---"...I have lost the truest of true loves, as if that wasn't enough to kill anyone..."
(Just priceless.)
But I don't want to be that unfair. (Really?) Here's a part I liked:
"It's not a trick. It's Carlisle. Take me back!"
A shudder rippled through his wide shoulders, but his eyes were flat and emotionless. "No."
"Jake, it's okay—"
"No. Take yourself back, Bella." His voice was a slap—I flinched as the sound of it struck me. His jaw clenched and unclenched."Look, Bella," he said in the same hard voice. "I can't go back. Treaty or no treaty, that's my enemy in there."
"It's not like that—"
"I have to tell Sam right away. This changes things. We can't be caught on their territory."
"Jake, it's not a war!"
He didn't listen. He put the truck in neutral and jumped out the door, leaving it running.
"Bye, Bella," he called back over his shoulder. "I really hope you don't die."
(Bye, Bella. I really hope you do.)
VERDICT:
Hahaha. Yeah, like you don't know yet. Just when I thought Twilight couldn't get any worse. But I was amused... In a perforated, saturated, desolate sort of way. Of course, I only read part two. You never know. But, really, can it get any worse than "truest of true loves"?!
PS:
Me: Twilight sucks. F*** Edward.
Fangirl: Yes!
Oh. :))
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Book Review: The "TWILIGHT" Zone
Disclaimer: May be deemed biased and hurtful by Twilight fans (but may be deemed truthful by Twilight haters). May be deemed pointless by people who've never read it. In case the last applies to you, you may want to read the book first. I wouldn't want to damage your perceptions just yet. Note to Meyer fans, feel free to plan my murder/assassination.
"Twilight," the debut novel of first-time author Stephenie Meyer, has been making waves for the past several months. Some of my friends have strongly recommended it, some practically swear by it. Some call her the "heir to the throne of J.K. Rowling." Some even go as far as calling Meyer a "literary genius," and calling Twilight the "literary masterpiece of the century."
I was intrigued. Surely, I thought, only a work that is hands-down laudable can cause such a big splash in the international market. I haven't witnessed the type of book-hype that it generated since the advent of Harry Potter.
I've seen, and I'm sure you have too, this book perched daintily on The Shelf in all the proper bookstores. But, being a miser by nature, I wasn't about to cash out 500 bucks for one book. I shop in Booksale, not Fully Booked, you know.
And so, I haven't had the chance to read it until someone sent me an e-book.
Saturday, September 20, I sat down in front of my computer and read it. Five hours later, well...
First, I want to talk about the positive.
1 Meyer knows her target audience well, and plays on description that appeals to them to catch their attention.
2 She also completely ignored The Vampire Cannon (sleeping in coffins, turning into bats, etc) and made her own version of vampires. Props for originality.
3 The book is also a good piece of entertainment, and Meyer writes well enough to keep nice images of the setting in your head.
4 She played on an aspect of romance, forbidden love, that made the framework interesting.
5 She also did a considerable job of making sure that her readers see vampires as good creatures, despite the sucking blood thing. The benefit of the doubt, and that all creatures must be granted that.
6 Most importantly, however, it made people read. Any book that makes people want to read is laudable.
Now, for the considerably longer list of things I hated about it... Organized according to The Beginning, The Muddle, The End, and The Thing I Hated The Most. (If you don't have enough time to read this, just read the last section, up to the conclusion. I have the most conviction there.)
[The Beginning]
1 POV. Her new friends, teachers, environment, and situation got described in the first person narrative that felt strained at times. That’s forgivable, since that’s what usually happens with such a POV and a writer who uses it for the first few times. Somehow, it had the feel of something Ann Martin might have written before she discovered the wonders (and potential) of BSC. Ann Martin writes in this genre and for the same target audience too, so excuse me I can’t help but compare.
2 IT'S A HYPE BOOK. Not that that should be taken against it, but most hype books are... 90% just hype. There's a mass psychosis that makes people think that if other people think it's good, then it must be good, and they think it's good before they even read it. Hype book status is like pre-reading brainwashing. And they feel like if they disagree they're not cool. Hey, I admit, the first few days I was hesitant to broadcast that I hated Twilight. Then I met people who hated it too, and were afraid to admit it too. We bonded over that fact. Yes, we feel much safer now.
[The Muddle]
3 ADVERB ABUSE. Seriously. Like JK, she abused adverbs like hell. Like she never met an adverb she didn't like. This is a book deal-breaker people. Form isn't more important than content, but it counts.
My favorite example of adverb abuse from the book?
"He chuckled blackly."
4 ADJECTIVES. Meyer described physical features too much. (That may be the understatement of the epoch). How many times did she say that Edward is (insert every synonym of handsome you can think of)??? I think she did it twice every ten pages. From the "muscled chest" to the "artfully gelled spikes," the book paid more attention to Edward's pulchritude (hah, now that's a word Meyer forgot to use) than the other things that might have been more conducive to character and plot development.
And note how she kept repeating how “attractive” the Cullens and the Hales were from the get-go. Say it once, okay. Say it twice, that’s fine too. Three times, four, five... When you repeat it every couple of pages, it becomes wearisome. Unless it’s a poem or you swear by anaphora, then that’s just irritating. Meyer was doing neither, obviously. I got the feeling that she did that so as to completely ingrain the thought that Edward was the most stunning person on the planet, and to build the backdrop of what was to come later. In short, I thought she was brainwashing the readers. Hey... Wait a second...
Typical conversation with fangirl:
Me: What's Twilight about?
Fangirl: Edward!!! He's so handsome (and synonyms)!!!!!!!!!!! *blush, swoon, sigh*
Me: I was, uhm, asking about the story...
Fangirl: Oh, there's this girl, Bella, and she moved to Forks and met *blush, swoon, sigh* Edward!!! He's so handsome (and synonyms)!!!
Me: *confused look* THAT'S the story? Edward is handsome?
Fangirl: Well, no, but... EDWARD!!!!!!!! EDDDWAAAARD!!!!!!!!
Me: *nods in pretend comprehension*
She WAS brainwashing. And it worked on the fans.
And while people might find the repetition of physical attributes amusing, it makes one wonder whether there isn’t anything else to say.
Note.
There was this line:
“Edward Cullen was not... human. He was something more.”
And I realized I underestimated Meyer's powers of brainwashing. All the other vampire novels I’ve read say that vampires are “something less,” not “something more” than human. Consciously or unconsciously, she’s building an image that her target audience would blindly adore. Consider how she never used the word fangs, given that this is a vampire novel.
5 THESAURIZATION AND OTHER WORD CRIMES. While I was reading the novel I felt like Meyer had her thesaurus open all the while she was writing it. Seriously. And I quote Stephen King, "Any word you search for in the thesaurus is the wrong word--no exceptions." There were so many inappropriately used words I'll leave you to look for them yourself.
Here's my favorite word-crime line:
“Desolation hit me with crippling strength.”
Oh, masterful, masterful use of words, Ms. Meyer. Science fiction, much? Loneliness is NOT desolation. I know the thesaurus lists it as a synonym, but it just doesn't work this way.
Here's another one:
“Again, his mobile features transformed...”
Uh, what?
6 CLICHES. Massive, glaring cliches. Read the book (or read it again) and see how many cliches you can find. Sources say about three-fourths of the book is made up of worn-out and already overplayed ideas. I mean, from the beginning, the scene was "new girl goes to new town." How many fanfictions, movies, tv series, and published novels have begun with that?
7 LACK OF A DETERMINATE STRUCTURE. (Imagine a bunch of wooden blocks, all stacked up on top of each other. Now imagine that those blocks are plot elements. Take one out, and the entire thing comes crashing down.) Twilight's plot was so loose that even if you removed the first 200 pages, and virtually any section after that, it would have still not affected the last 150 pages. And about those first 200 pages... It takes that long for Bella to say that she looks average, is clumsy, is insecure, is a good daughter, is smart, and is observant. Unfortunately, that's as far as she got. Because after that the story revolved around Edward. Odd, you'd think you'd know more about Bella since she was narrating it.
8 CONFLICT. Meyer tried (and failed) to produce the inevitable, plot-induced conflict. I was actually squinting at every page to coerce the beginnings of the conflict out of hiding. It was odd. She kept trying to present a conflict, and it just didn't happen, so she ended up telling the reader what the conflict is, instead. Come on. Again, no determinate structure.
9 CHEESINESS. This book is very, extremely, completely, unabashedly, totally, genuinely, indubitably, really, truly, undoubtedly, unquestionably and veritably CHEESY! (See, the thesaurus is annoying.) It's the epitome of the "Chick" genre. They were looking into each other's "glorious, agonized eyes" for waaaaay too long I wanted something else, anything else, to happen to the story. Because right around the middle the story stopped on account of hand-holding and face-touching. The blind man that does massages down the street would've been so proud. By the time James arrived I was rooting for him I actually wanted him to kill someone, just so it'd be interesting. I don't think I even have enough adjectives to express how cheesy this novel is. And for fear of turning into an overly-describing writer, I won't. I know that since it IS a romance novel, it is SUPPOSED to all mushy and stuff, but there comes a point when cheesiness becomes intolerable.
Oh, yeah, show, don't tell. Here you go--
“He threw me over his stone shoulder, gently, but with a swiftness that left me breathless. I protested as he carried me easily down the stairs, but he ignored me.”
“That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.”
“It makes me... anxious... to be away from you. I wasn’t joking when I asked you try not to fall into the ocean or get run over last Thursday.”
“Besides, since I’d come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him.”
“I feel very safe with you.”
“You are my life now.”
“I’ll always want you,” I warned him. “Forever.”
10 SHORTCUTS. Waaaay too many shortcuts. About 40 pages after they met, (a week, or something) this line already appeared:
“It would be more... prudent for you not to be my friend, but I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella.”
Barely anything happened, and then that. This is just one example of the many many shortcuts. A lot of the time the scenes felt contrived. Character development also took major shortcuts.
11 MAIN CHARACTER RELATIONSHIP.
Me: I'm sure you didn't notice, but the glue that held Bella's and Edward's relationship is curiosity and sex appeal. They didn't actually get beyond that.
Fangirl: No!!! They were in-love! They loved each other!!! It was sooo romantic!!!
Me: (Wow she's a major fangirl) Are you sure you're not getting a little carried aw--
Fangirl: Come on! Their love was so amazing... *sigh* They were meant for each other. The book actually touched me so much, it made me cry... It was such a beautiful romance...
Me: (It made me want to puke last night's dinner) Okay, maybe I missed that part. (Not.)
They were thrust together not by fate or circumstance, but by plain authorial fiat. The same authorial fiat locked them together in a face-touching, constant-dithering state-- and this worked because Meyer took away every shred of Bella's self-esteem, self-worth and self-preservation. In fact, this is the only way the plot could've ever worked.
Okay, so you're disagreeing with the "curiosity and sex appeal" part. I'll explain.
80 pages into the novel, the element of “I can’t read you but I want to” was introduced more specifically. From then on, that is where the story was banked. They kept trying to "get to know" each other. And they talked at length about, what else, themselves. The curiosity kept them together. Over and over again, they conversed about their "feeeeeelings" and their "perfect relationship" (which was mostly just staring googly-eyed at each other.) I don't know about you, but it's annoying when all book characters talk about is themselves. I was literally cringing for the majority of the time I was reading it. As for the sex appeal, see "ADJECTIVES."
Note.
Maybe the reason Edward couldn't read Bella's mind was because there was nothing in it.
[The End]
Refer to Number 6. How many fanfictions, movies, tv series, and published novels have ended with that? And, also, refer to Number 9 while you're at it.
[The Thing I Hated the Most]
IT'S LIKE FEMINISM NEVER EVEN HAPPENED.
Do a lot of girls really desire to be in a relationship where they don't exist apart from their partner? Bella didn't have friends--she ditched them when she and Edward hooked up. (And THAT was bad.) She spent every minute with Edward and her family and I quote "Edward was my life."
What about her own life? What about what she wanted to do for herself?
It's like Meyer is saying, sure, go ahead, it's alright to throw your entire future and individuality away if you're in love. Don't use your head. What career? What future? No go for the apron and the wedding ring! Before the story even ended, they were already talking about marriage. Bella was obsessed, no other word for it.
And for those reasons I declare:
ISABELLA SWAN SUCKS. She is a weak and pathetic person easily blinded by good looks and sex appeal. For a protagonist, she's very unlikable. Clumsy, irrational, and begging to be saved. Her complete lack of any sense of self-preservation was scary. From the figurative self-immolation at the very beginning, to the literal self-immolation every so often during the story, it would have done everybody a favor if she just died when that van came reeling in her direction. Pity the other protagonist saved her life. (Spot that cliche!)
She was literally tripping over her own feet, AND flirting in the process. I'm sorry, second-rate heroines just don't cut it.
Here's a passage that illustrates said self-immolation:
“I intuitively knew — and sensed he did, too — that tomorrow would be pivotal. Our relationship couldn’t continue to balance, as it did, on the point of a knife. We would fall off one edge or the other, depending entirely upon his decision, or his instincts. My decision was made, made before I’d ever consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing it through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. It was an impossibility.”
Now that's stupid. Literally walking into literal death just because you're in love. And don't give me your hopeless romantic nonesense, even the hopeless of the hopeless would think twice. Only Meyer's character has the complete lack of self-esteem, self-preservation, and self-worth to do so. I wanted to jump into the book and slap some sense into Bella.
And did nobody notice that if you take away the little factoid that Edward was, to use fangirl talk, "totally totally hot," that he was a creepy stalker, totally possessive, and was too domineering? Is it okay to be in a relationship where you are seriously undermined, just because the guy is "totally totally hot?" Is possessiveness romantic? Is this the thirteenth century?
I feel like if Simone de Beauvoir (author of Le Deuxième Sexe and an existential feminist) was living today, she'd chuck Twilight into the garbage bin and give Stephenie Meyer a piece of her mind.
"The basic options of an individual must be made on the premises of an equal vocation for man and woman founded on a common structure of their being, independent of their sexuality."
At one point, she actually allowed herself to be compared to a lamb. Let’s review, shall we. Lambs are the animals usually depicted as stupid and would follow whatever is told to them. Thanks, George Orwell. And, let’s say I didn’t know Edward was a vampire. Then some of the dialogues would simply come off as he’s a self-important spoiled kid whose victim is willing to be victimized.
Beyond the mushiness, beyond the "I Love You, You Love Me" concept and the "world-colliding" romance was the immemorial theme of man's transcendence and woman's inferiority. Obviously, women (both in fiction and real life) have already surpassed this prejudice. So what was Meyer's business, bashing feminism like that?
Take Medea, from the play by Euripedes. Now she was one woman who took care of things. Consider, too, Vittoria Vetra, Hermione Granger, Oprah Winfrey, Condoleeza Rice and a million other women out there.
Bella is mental and Edward should get a life. Pun intended.
It's really, really like feminism never even happened. It worries me that this book is sending the wrong message to women readers, especially the young ones. After all, this is YA fiction. This book implies reliance and dependence on men, that, frankly, is an unhealthy conviction.
Regardless of the fact that Edward was supernatural, EVERYBODY should take care of their own problems.
[Conclusion]
Despite all this criticism, there is a part I liked.
VAMPIRE BASEBALL. Not kidding. I was amused by that one. And from that scene to the part where Bella almost (darn it) died, I actually paid attention. To me, James was the most interesting character. Edward was dispatched far too easily. Bella exhibited major dim-wittedness during this (come on, the ballet room had a VCR) but it was really the only thing in the book that warranted both eyes on the screen. (Paper, if you want to get literal).
After that, it was just a cliche that made the fangirls swoon, I'm sure.
Criticisms aside, I think that the advent of Twilight is good because of the simple fact that it's a book that majority of people like to read. It's actually my fault that I read it, and for that reason it's my fault that it disagreed with me.
I let myself be led into the Twilight wagon-- only to jump out and hit the ground running moments later.
I HATE TWILIGHT. There. I said it. And if you still don't see my point... I'll let Haruki Murakami take it from here.
"If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking. That's the world of hicks and slobs. Real people would be ashamed of themselves doing that."
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
November 5, 2008
I woke up around noon today, and as soon as I remembered why I was up late last night, I bolted out of the bedroom and switched on the TV. Our TV is pretty damaged, and only the lower half has any pictures on it. The top half is black and unforgiving, probably punishing us for using it 12 hours a day. But that didn't matter. Plus, CNN had their news bar on the lower half anyway. I couldn't see any faces. I couldn't see what Obama or McCain or any of the anchors looked in those moments. I relied on brain images to supply what was missing. Like the rest of the world, I spent hours on CNN, waiting for the history-defining declaration to be made. Along the way, I saw news bits like...
"40 dead as ferry overturns in the Philippines"
"45 dead as bus goes over a gorge in India"
"BMW heiress blackmailed for billions"
"Stocks down by 62%"
"Palin found not guilty of abusing power"
"Six French Aids kidnapped in Somalia"
etcetera, etcetera.
Watching CNN gives you a lot of information you don't need to know.
At around 1:30 PM (Philippine Time), it was apparent that the 44th President elect of the United States of America was going to be Barack Obama. McCain conceded. And from what I was hearing (never mind the "seeing" part) it was a landslide. Not a complete landslide, of course, but it was like three-fourths of the Americans made its decision and they didn't let anything stop them. I heard 95% of the black population voted for Obama, and States that voted for Bush in 2004 voted for Obama this time. Even Arizona, McCain's hometown, didn't completely support McCain.
(During a program called "Africa Watch" on CNN, Kenyans and other Africans were shown to be inflicted with "Obama Mania." Symptoms? Wearing shirts with Obama's likeness, reading his books and biographies, chanting "We Love Obama" in the streets, and watching his speeches on DVD. And you've got to admit, his speeches are pretty good. I was afflicted with minor Obama Mania too, but I was restricted to reading and listening to debates and speeches. There's something in him that just makes you stop, look and listen. He's like a noisy Gandhi.)
A mock election in the Philippines (staged by the US embassy) saw an Obama victory too, with 400 votes for him, compared to the 100 for McCain. They let the Pinoys use the technology that the US uses. I heard two types of it: one's the "shade the circle" type, like the ones used in standardized tests, and the other is a touch screen voting apparatus. I don't know what they were trying to do exactly, but it had me salivating at the thought of a computerized election. Imagine, a country as big as the US got results for their elections barely 15 hours later.
A few days ago, it was reported that on a popular betting sight, 8 out of ten people were betting on Obama. I guess they won too.
I wonder what the Europeans think. Imagine them discussing this over tea in their killer accents.
We're halfway across the world, but it's our election too. We don't have a vote, and that's why we're probably more anxious than the Americans to see whether the Democrat or the Republican would win office. Whatever happens there affects what happens here. To those who don't have an idea about the candidates, the logic is simple. Bush is Republican. He screwed America into the next century. McCain is Republican too. Screw McCain, vote the other guy. Oh, he's black? So what?
To others, the only part they hear is that Obama will end the war in Iraq, and that is reason enough. To me, that is reason enough too.
(Some are of the opinion that McCain would not only continue war in Iraq, as he stated, but would extend the war to Iran. Note: Both Obama and McCain are on the side of the Israelis. Hmmm. Imagine what Sarah Palin would do-- now that woman was scary. I've got nothing against rifle-toting beauty queens, but when you say that global warming is not affected by man's affairs, I seriously begin to doubt your sanity. Plus, did you hear her interviews??? She's clueless! To be fair, I have no idea what Joe Biden's up to. The only thing I know is that he's been in Washington for a while. The most memorable, er, memory I have is after the third Presidential debate where McCain mentioned "Joe the Plumber," and a string of Joes, Josies and Janes popped up. Joe the cook, Josie the maid, Jane the street-sweeper, Joe the clerk, etctera. Someone came up with "Joe the Biden." It was pretty funny.)
During a speech a while ago, the president elect said "this [US] is the greatest nation on earth." I thought it was true. (They could be surpassed by Japan economy-wise soon, what with Wall Street issues, but hey.) I thought that if America, which has the history of having some of the most violent civil rights battles, can see beyond race and elect someone like Obama, then that in itself is an achievement. Sure, I'm not there, and I don't have any plans of migrating there. But it's inspiring. It makes you realize that even if you were born a nobody, but if you're good enough, then you can achieve what you want to. I read Obama's biography, and it was definitely different from most big-shot US politicians. While McCain is a third generation politico who literally grew up inside Washington offices, Obama was half-Kenyan and grew up in Hawaii and Indonesia. Never affluent, never powerful, but always industrious and intelligent. He made his way through college on scholarships, and eventually got into Harvard Law. During his second year (based on grades and an essay writing contest) he was chosen as EIC of the Harvard Law Review. After graduation he became a community organizer in Chicago, where he solved the problems of a lot of the black communities. He began literally from scratch, and got to a place most people never even dreamed of.
(During a speech, Obama explained that his name sucked that bad because his parents never dreamed that he would run for office, let alone presidency. He also noted that he was not born in a manger, in reference to the term "black Jesus" that the media attached to him.)
I saw the coverage of the victory party too. (You have got to love CNN). Oprah, one of the first ones to endorse Obama, was literally jumping up and down with delight. And she wasn't the only one.
America needs a change, and they elected a man who advocated for change-- despite his age, despite his humble background, despite his race. They voted for change itself. It's going to take a lot of work... Like I said, Bush screwed US into the next century. But the new president may just be the change they need.
The Philippines needs a change too. Maybe even more change than the US does.
The question is, does anybody have the guts to be our Obama?
Post-scriptum:
After I drafted this, I went CNNing again. They were playing the clip of Germans, celebrating the victory of Obama.
Turns out they were rooting for him too. They also showed the celebrations in Kenya. Now I know EVERYBODY was happy there.
Then they played Obama's victory speech.
After I listened, I realized three things: That Americans who voted for him were right on, that Americans who didn't vote for him probably now wish they did, and that the Philippines needs a leader like him, not badly, DESPERATELY.
I'm not American, but during that speech I was really touched. If I was in his audience, I would probably be crying my eyes out. I predict that years from now, whenever anyone mentions "believing in the impossible," the name "Obama" will have to be mentioned too.
The hope in Obama's voice, the tears of joy of 220, 000 guests in his victory party, the very aura of unity and euphoria in the air-- they were all quite clear on my half-a-screen halfway across the world.
I wish I could feel that a bit closer to home too.
I woke up around noon today, and as soon as I remembered why I was up late last night, I bolted out of the bedroom and switched on the TV. Our TV is pretty damaged, and only the lower half has any pictures on it. The top half is black and unforgiving, probably punishing us for using it 12 hours a day. But that didn't matter. Plus, CNN had their news bar on the lower half anyway. I couldn't see any faces. I couldn't see what Obama or McCain or any of the anchors looked in those moments. I relied on brain images to supply what was missing. Like the rest of the world, I spent hours on CNN, waiting for the history-defining declaration to be made. Along the way, I saw news bits like...
"40 dead as ferry overturns in the Philippines"
"45 dead as bus goes over a gorge in India"
"BMW heiress blackmailed for billions"
"Stocks down by 62%"
"Palin found not guilty of abusing power"
"Six French Aids kidnapped in Somalia"
etcetera, etcetera.
Watching CNN gives you a lot of information you don't need to know.
At around 1:30 PM (Philippine Time), it was apparent that the 44th President elect of the United States of America was going to be Barack Obama. McCain conceded. And from what I was hearing (never mind the "seeing" part) it was a landslide. Not a complete landslide, of course, but it was like three-fourths of the Americans made its decision and they didn't let anything stop them. I heard 95% of the black population voted for Obama, and States that voted for Bush in 2004 voted for Obama this time. Even Arizona, McCain's hometown, didn't completely support McCain.
(During a program called "Africa Watch" on CNN, Kenyans and other Africans were shown to be inflicted with "Obama Mania." Symptoms? Wearing shirts with Obama's likeness, reading his books and biographies, chanting "We Love Obama" in the streets, and watching his speeches on DVD. And you've got to admit, his speeches are pretty good. I was afflicted with minor Obama Mania too, but I was restricted to reading and listening to debates and speeches. There's something in him that just makes you stop, look and listen. He's like a noisy Gandhi.)
A mock election in the Philippines (staged by the US embassy) saw an Obama victory too, with 400 votes for him, compared to the 100 for McCain. They let the Pinoys use the technology that the US uses. I heard two types of it: one's the "shade the circle" type, like the ones used in standardized tests, and the other is a touch screen voting apparatus. I don't know what they were trying to do exactly, but it had me salivating at the thought of a computerized election. Imagine, a country as big as the US got results for their elections barely 15 hours later.
A few days ago, it was reported that on a popular betting sight, 8 out of ten people were betting on Obama. I guess they won too.
I wonder what the Europeans think. Imagine them discussing this over tea in their killer accents.
We're halfway across the world, but it's our election too. We don't have a vote, and that's why we're probably more anxious than the Americans to see whether the Democrat or the Republican would win office. Whatever happens there affects what happens here. To those who don't have an idea about the candidates, the logic is simple. Bush is Republican. He screwed America into the next century. McCain is Republican too. Screw McCain, vote the other guy. Oh, he's black? So what?
To others, the only part they hear is that Obama will end the war in Iraq, and that is reason enough. To me, that is reason enough too.
(Some are of the opinion that McCain would not only continue war in Iraq, as he stated, but would extend the war to Iran. Note: Both Obama and McCain are on the side of the Israelis. Hmmm. Imagine what Sarah Palin would do-- now that woman was scary. I've got nothing against rifle-toting beauty queens, but when you say that global warming is not affected by man's affairs, I seriously begin to doubt your sanity. Plus, did you hear her interviews??? She's clueless! To be fair, I have no idea what Joe Biden's up to. The only thing I know is that he's been in Washington for a while. The most memorable, er, memory I have is after the third Presidential debate where McCain mentioned "Joe the Plumber," and a string of Joes, Josies and Janes popped up. Joe the cook, Josie the maid, Jane the street-sweeper, Joe the clerk, etctera. Someone came up with "Joe the Biden." It was pretty funny.)
During a speech a while ago, the president elect said "this [US] is the greatest nation on earth." I thought it was true. (They could be surpassed by Japan economy-wise soon, what with Wall Street issues, but hey.) I thought that if America, which has the history of having some of the most violent civil rights battles, can see beyond race and elect someone like Obama, then that in itself is an achievement. Sure, I'm not there, and I don't have any plans of migrating there. But it's inspiring. It makes you realize that even if you were born a nobody, but if you're good enough, then you can achieve what you want to. I read Obama's biography, and it was definitely different from most big-shot US politicians. While McCain is a third generation politico who literally grew up inside Washington offices, Obama was half-Kenyan and grew up in Hawaii and Indonesia. Never affluent, never powerful, but always industrious and intelligent. He made his way through college on scholarships, and eventually got into Harvard Law. During his second year (based on grades and an essay writing contest) he was chosen as EIC of the Harvard Law Review. After graduation he became a community organizer in Chicago, where he solved the problems of a lot of the black communities. He began literally from scratch, and got to a place most people never even dreamed of.
(During a speech, Obama explained that his name sucked that bad because his parents never dreamed that he would run for office, let alone presidency. He also noted that he was not born in a manger, in reference to the term "black Jesus" that the media attached to him.)
I saw the coverage of the victory party too. (You have got to love CNN). Oprah, one of the first ones to endorse Obama, was literally jumping up and down with delight. And she wasn't the only one.
America needs a change, and they elected a man who advocated for change-- despite his age, despite his humble background, despite his race. They voted for change itself. It's going to take a lot of work... Like I said, Bush screwed US into the next century. But the new president may just be the change they need.
The Philippines needs a change too. Maybe even more change than the US does.
The question is, does anybody have the guts to be our Obama?
Post-scriptum:
After I drafted this, I went CNNing again. They were playing the clip of Germans, celebrating the victory of Obama.
Turns out they were rooting for him too. They also showed the celebrations in Kenya. Now I know EVERYBODY was happy there.
Then they played Obama's victory speech.
After I listened, I realized three things: That Americans who voted for him were right on, that Americans who didn't vote for him probably now wish they did, and that the Philippines needs a leader like him, not badly, DESPERATELY.
I'm not American, but during that speech I was really touched. If I was in his audience, I would probably be crying my eyes out. I predict that years from now, whenever anyone mentions "believing in the impossible," the name "Obama" will have to be mentioned too.
The hope in Obama's voice, the tears of joy of 220, 000 guests in his victory party, the very aura of unity and euphoria in the air-- they were all quite clear on my half-a-screen halfway across the world.
I wish I could feel that a bit closer to home too.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
schadenfreude
Schadenfreude!!!
So I was cleaning my old stuff the other day. You know, the stuff from kinder, grade school and high school that just happen to accumulate over the years. (Okay, so I'm a hoarder when it comes to these things). There were letters, planners, report cards, letters, IDs, overdue book notices, letters, candy wrappers, pictures... and did I mention letters? I have now arranged most of them in two scrapbooks, in no order whatsoever. I am not about to chronologize 12 years' worth of stuff. That might take me another 12 years. Anyway, I came across this letter that had me literally rolling on the floor in laughter.
Background. Sometime around sophomore year, we were cleaning the classrooms before classes began. Just a little spruce up. The classrooms belonged to the seniors the year before, so I assume it was from one of the seniors to another one of the seniors. Or something. Due to, er, possible humiliation of both the sender and the recipient of the letter, I won't write their names. (Even if they are just first names).
This is the letter, verbatim.
---
" *,
I have my own reasons and motivations in writting this thing. I know im not good at this but i'll do my best to communicate my thoughts. I've been trying to gather the pieces together and try to heal myself for the past four years, but something is still not right. Everytime i thought everything's "OK" but sooner or later something will trigger something inside and drag me to step one again and again and again. In my research the main reason why this things happen is cause by the undigested emotions in my subconciousness. In which you know me as a silent and secretive man makes me a candidate to suppress emotions.
I've already written three notebooks full of egoistic thoughts as they said it could help me in moving on. Ive Dated a couple of eligible, pretty, intelligent girls thinking it can help me put you out of me. I tried drowning myself with alcohol hoping when im drunk i can express or let things out. I even tried experiencing nightlife hoping to fool myself that theres lot of beautiful women out there seeking men like me. I also tried changing my environment and taking vacations to Camiguin, Davao, HongKong... thinking i can refresh and restart again. But it all FAILED!
(next page)
And it seems that theres something in the process i failed to do. Something i should have done for the last four years. But thing's are blurry and complicated back then, that even right now i still cant draw a clear picture of my life for the last four years.
Im aware that im just a man and im not perfect. That's why i failed in some areas of my life. But isnt it the essence of being young to commit mistakes and learn from it. Im very very Sorry for the pains and troubles ive caused you. Its not my intentions to hurt anyone specially you. Im aware of your efforts and love but its me thats blind. Blinded by pain, anger, anxiety and loneliness in which i wish you could feel me that time. I would like you to know that there are reasons why my reactions are like that. If i am equipped with experience or axioms that could have change my reactions then it could have been better. But that's who i am *. I am ** and thats the best of me. Good for you coz im not your first and true love, that makes it easy for you. But as you know me your my first and true love and its my first time to call a girl, hold a hand, kiss a lips and touch a face and its yours.
(next page)
You should have recognize my efforts too. I know its been four years and right now all i want is for us to go out and talk hoping to release all this thing inside. This is who i am *, Please dont compare me with other men. This is How i was conditioned to love and i believe its no ones fault why i love you like this.
Theres no easy way to say this but just by saying it. This is what i want to happen. I want to go out with you for the last time and really talking with you. I know im not very good at talking but i'll do my best. Im aware that you told me your engaged but i believe you'll grant my heart's request. All i want is for my heart to stop bleeding! I think this is the only thing that i failed to do for the last four years. Please Help my HEART HEAL in order to love again.
Thank you for considering my feelings.
Hope to see you soon.
Please grant my LAST, request.
You know me better than anyone.
Please me find my way home."
---
A comedy, if I ever saw one. Because the moralizing effect is pity for the 'character' and relief that it's not me. Understatement, perhaps. Really, thank god it isn't me. This is just pathetic.
In fact, I feel SCHADENFREUDE...
And this one is classic.
So I was cleaning my old stuff the other day. You know, the stuff from kinder, grade school and high school that just happen to accumulate over the years. (Okay, so I'm a hoarder when it comes to these things). There were letters, planners, report cards, letters, IDs, overdue book notices, letters, candy wrappers, pictures... and did I mention letters? I have now arranged most of them in two scrapbooks, in no order whatsoever. I am not about to chronologize 12 years' worth of stuff. That might take me another 12 years. Anyway, I came across this letter that had me literally rolling on the floor in laughter.
Background. Sometime around sophomore year, we were cleaning the classrooms before classes began. Just a little spruce up. The classrooms belonged to the seniors the year before, so I assume it was from one of the seniors to another one of the seniors. Or something. Due to, er, possible humiliation of both the sender and the recipient of the letter, I won't write their names. (Even if they are just first names).
This is the letter, verbatim.
---
" *,
I have my own reasons and motivations in writting this thing. I know im not good at this but i'll do my best to communicate my thoughts. I've been trying to gather the pieces together and try to heal myself for the past four years, but something is still not right. Everytime i thought everything's "OK" but sooner or later something will trigger something inside and drag me to step one again and again and again. In my research the main reason why this things happen is cause by the undigested emotions in my subconciousness. In which you know me as a silent and secretive man makes me a candidate to suppress emotions.
I've already written three notebooks full of egoistic thoughts as they said it could help me in moving on. Ive Dated a couple of eligible, pretty, intelligent girls thinking it can help me put you out of me. I tried drowning myself with alcohol hoping when im drunk i can express or let things out. I even tried experiencing nightlife hoping to fool myself that theres lot of beautiful women out there seeking men like me. I also tried changing my environment and taking vacations to Camiguin, Davao, HongKong... thinking i can refresh and restart again. But it all FAILED!
(next page)
And it seems that theres something in the process i failed to do. Something i should have done for the last four years. But thing's are blurry and complicated back then, that even right now i still cant draw a clear picture of my life for the last four years.
Im aware that im just a man and im not perfect. That's why i failed in some areas of my life. But isnt it the essence of being young to commit mistakes and learn from it. Im very very Sorry for the pains and troubles ive caused you. Its not my intentions to hurt anyone specially you. Im aware of your efforts and love but its me thats blind. Blinded by pain, anger, anxiety and loneliness in which i wish you could feel me that time. I would like you to know that there are reasons why my reactions are like that. If i am equipped with experience or axioms that could have change my reactions then it could have been better. But that's who i am *. I am ** and thats the best of me. Good for you coz im not your first and true love, that makes it easy for you. But as you know me your my first and true love and its my first time to call a girl, hold a hand, kiss a lips and touch a face and its yours.
(next page)
You should have recognize my efforts too. I know its been four years and right now all i want is for us to go out and talk hoping to release all this thing inside. This is who i am *, Please dont compare me with other men. This is How i was conditioned to love and i believe its no ones fault why i love you like this.
Theres no easy way to say this but just by saying it. This is what i want to happen. I want to go out with you for the last time and really talking with you. I know im not very good at talking but i'll do my best. Im aware that you told me your engaged but i believe you'll grant my heart's request. All i want is for my heart to stop bleeding! I think this is the only thing that i failed to do for the last four years. Please Help my HEART HEAL in order to love again.
Thank you for considering my feelings.
Hope to see you soon.
Please grant my LAST, request.
You know me better than anyone.
Please me find my way home."
---
A comedy, if I ever saw one. Because the moralizing effect is pity for the 'character' and relief that it's not me. Understatement, perhaps. Really, thank god it isn't me. This is just pathetic.
In fact, I feel SCHADENFREUDE...
And this one is classic.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Silence
Dear Classmate,
I walked in with the rest of you. As usual, you ignored me. I sat at the very back of the room and leafed through an open book. In silence, I read. In silence, I lived.
I tried to be friends with you. But every time I walked towards you, you walked away. Are you afraid of me? Ashamed of me? Disgusted? Appalled? I want to know why you hate me so much.
But I still don’t, because you don’t even talk to me.
The teacher came in and started the morning roll call. She mentioned my name, the last on the list, and I raised my hand. Everybody became quiet, and took out their books and pens. I knew that it would be the last time I would be called. Until tomorrow’s roll call.
I am the girl everyone ignored.
Everyone.
It was like I existed for the sake of existence.
The lesson started, and I tried to pay attention. I looked at you and you were secretly laughing with your friends.
I wondered what it would feel like to laugh with people. Because, if I am not ignored, then I am laughed at. It would be nice to laugh with you. I always wanted to be friends with you. You were everything I wanted to be. Smart, beautiful, funny...
Everybody loved you.
I continued to leaf through the book, interest in the lesson all forgotten.
Then the teacher asked, “Who wrote Pride and Prejudice?”
No one answered. Then, her eyes stopped in my direction. I took it as a sign that she was telling me to answer.
So I stood up and walked to the front, because I did know. Jane Austen. I remember, because we have the same first name.
You suddenly shivered. “Somebody turn the fan off! It’s cold.”
“It is off,” your seatmate told you.
I picked up a piece of chalk. Then I began writing.
Jane.
I stopped. I didn’t want to write Austen. Maybe it was time I gave myself some attention, after all.
I wrote “Jane” again. And again. Again. I kept writing like my life depended on it. Life? What a joke.
You screamed. Somebody fainted. Others started running away, and still others were frozen in place.
Now you know my name.
You just couldn’t see me.
Then again, you never saw me when I was alive.
Being dead was no different.
You were unable to run; perhaps your senses were not working properly. I walked toward you and held your hand. You were warm. Or I was cold. I don’t know. I think it was both. You fainted.
I did know that my body was somewhere cold, lying in metal, awaiting autopsy.
Lying there, because you killed me.
Remember when you were driving last week towards your parents’ house? It was the weekend and you were drunk. I was going home, too. But unlike you I didn’t have a car.
You hit me. You knew you hit me, because you got out of your shiny new Porsche and looked at the road behind you. You saw me, you checked my pulse. Or lack thereof.
You were afraid.
I wasn’t.
I was finally free of my disfigured body. It wasn’t my fault that my mother tried to abort me, and failed. It wasn’t my fault that I had, as you said, half-a-nose. Nor was it my fault that my spine was curved and my feet were uneven. None of it was my fault, and yet you made me pay.
You got back into your car and rode off into the night in a cloud of dust and smoke. Relief, too, since you knew nobody saw you.
You didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?
Tut, tut.
It’s your turn to be ignored by the rest of the world.
But don’t worry, I’m not going to let you out of my sight.
Tonight, you join me in silence.
I walked in with the rest of you. As usual, you ignored me. I sat at the very back of the room and leafed through an open book. In silence, I read. In silence, I lived.
I tried to be friends with you. But every time I walked towards you, you walked away. Are you afraid of me? Ashamed of me? Disgusted? Appalled? I want to know why you hate me so much.
But I still don’t, because you don’t even talk to me.
The teacher came in and started the morning roll call. She mentioned my name, the last on the list, and I raised my hand. Everybody became quiet, and took out their books and pens. I knew that it would be the last time I would be called. Until tomorrow’s roll call.
I am the girl everyone ignored.
Everyone.
It was like I existed for the sake of existence.
The lesson started, and I tried to pay attention. I looked at you and you were secretly laughing with your friends.
I wondered what it would feel like to laugh with people. Because, if I am not ignored, then I am laughed at. It would be nice to laugh with you. I always wanted to be friends with you. You were everything I wanted to be. Smart, beautiful, funny...
Everybody loved you.
I continued to leaf through the book, interest in the lesson all forgotten.
Then the teacher asked, “Who wrote Pride and Prejudice?”
No one answered. Then, her eyes stopped in my direction. I took it as a sign that she was telling me to answer.
So I stood up and walked to the front, because I did know. Jane Austen. I remember, because we have the same first name.
You suddenly shivered. “Somebody turn the fan off! It’s cold.”
“It is off,” your seatmate told you.
I picked up a piece of chalk. Then I began writing.
Jane.
I stopped. I didn’t want to write Austen. Maybe it was time I gave myself some attention, after all.
I wrote “Jane” again. And again. Again. I kept writing like my life depended on it. Life? What a joke.
You screamed. Somebody fainted. Others started running away, and still others were frozen in place.
Now you know my name.
You just couldn’t see me.
Then again, you never saw me when I was alive.
Being dead was no different.
You were unable to run; perhaps your senses were not working properly. I walked toward you and held your hand. You were warm. Or I was cold. I don’t know. I think it was both. You fainted.
I did know that my body was somewhere cold, lying in metal, awaiting autopsy.
Lying there, because you killed me.
Remember when you were driving last week towards your parents’ house? It was the weekend and you were drunk. I was going home, too. But unlike you I didn’t have a car.
You hit me. You knew you hit me, because you got out of your shiny new Porsche and looked at the road behind you. You saw me, you checked my pulse. Or lack thereof.
You were afraid.
I wasn’t.
I was finally free of my disfigured body. It wasn’t my fault that my mother tried to abort me, and failed. It wasn’t my fault that I had, as you said, half-a-nose. Nor was it my fault that my spine was curved and my feet were uneven. None of it was my fault, and yet you made me pay.
You got back into your car and rode off into the night in a cloud of dust and smoke. Relief, too, since you knew nobody saw you.
You didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?
Tut, tut.
It’s your turn to be ignored by the rest of the world.
But don’t worry, I’m not going to let you out of my sight.
Tonight, you join me in silence.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Random Post
Randomness.
Location: UP Diliman Main Library
Reason for being here: Passing the time 'til I have to go back to the gym and practice the pep squad cheers. (It's only 3:30 and they start the general rehearsal at 5:30.) In short, taking advantage of the 20 free hours of internet for no particular reason. Hey, it's airconditioned here. Not like the heat outside is enjoyable... It's "to die for."
Random News:
I DIDN'T FLUNK MATH. Midsem standing says "3.00." Hell yes. I thought I was going to get a 5 on that. The dreaded "singko." Still half the sem to go... That's one long test and one final exam to survive (and I need to get a 60% on all of them lest I face the ugly reality of failure.)
I was in the College of Arts and Letters a while ago and I ran into Raphie. We met in Koronadal, South Cotabato during the regional press conference. Anyway, we had this conversation (paraphrased)... He's taking Math 17, by the way. UP people you know what that means. Hehe.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: You suck!!!!!!!! DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And the rest of the walk to the Math building we were lamenting on how we paid 3,000 (me) and 5,000 (him) for our stupid math classes. I mean, I DON'T NEED MATH. Seriously. Where in POLITICAL SCIENCE do I need algebra? Sure, if it's economics that's fine by me... But this is algebra for crying out loud!
I found the complete collected works of Ambrose Bierce in the CAL Library, by the way.
*This is me jumping up and down like the geek that I am.
Random Questions:
Is "Twilight" as good as everybody says it is? I mean, all this ranting and raving (and swooning) has me thinking "is this worth all the fuss?" From the standpoint of someone who hasn't read it yet, it sounds like a mushy mushy mushy mushy mushy (did I mention mushy?) love story of a girl and a vampire.And, honestly, that's not even new. And all I kept hearing is about this "Edward" guy. Sure, whatever. What about the story? Is there something new in it (different, like a je ne sais quios) or is everybody swearing by it because it's "in?" Okay, SORRY to the fans of the book. But I hate cliche-y love stories. Wait, I hate love stories, period. If it has a tragic ending then I'd probably hate it less. (Stop psycho-analysing me. I know you are.) If it's vampires as the topic then I'd rather read Anne Rice.
*This might also be due to the fact that I don't like reading mainstream stuff. If everybody likes it I start liking it less.
Oh yeah, before I forget, why do they keep skipping the Narnia books?
It goes like:
Magician's Nephew
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
The Horse and His Boy
Prince Caspian
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
The Silver Chair
The Last Battle
Why do they keep skipping???
I though Prince Caspian was one of the less interesting books. Book II is alright. But WHY SKIP???!!! It's losing the "essence." They're ordered like that for a reason. Maybe those producers seem to think that the ones with the Pevensie children are the only ones worth showing. Yeah, but what about the other good stuff? Sheesh.
And while I'm on the topic of books...
Why do bookstores (shops, boutiques, etcetera) sell those cheap, vile, disgusting, worthless, crap-filled unoriginal, trying hard, repulsive little paperback love stories? (The adjectives just keep on coming.) You know, the ones your yaya probably reads. Mine did. DID. I don't have a yaya anymore. (Defensive.) Anyway, I think those are a waste of resources. They're printing major crap on paper. If people want crap they'd go to their bath rooms. Not the bookstores. To think most National Bookstores have shelves devoted to these. If I see these in Powerbooks/ Fully-booked I might just lose faith in all humanity.
(Am I offending anyone? Oh, I'm sorry. But this is MY blog. I'm saying what I want to say.) Okay, hyper me.
And, for that matter, why in the freaking hell are people reading that crap??? Follow-up: Why are people writing that crap??? There are a million things one can write can write about. The world holds wonders for him/her who has the eyes to see them. I don't know why those writers can't find anything to write about but those extreme travesties of literature.
Last night, I was watching the news (GMA-7) and I heard something like "Ding-dong nagselos... *something* girlfriend niyang si Karylle," right before the commercial break. My mind went "What the f***?" You people just wasted millions of pesos worth of airtime for shit like that???!!! Who the effing hell cares about those people??? God. Oh. Am I allowed to use that? Oh whatever. God!
Mainstream media these days are just plain first-class crap.
Don't even let me get started on Filipino movies of the past five years.
Sign of the Week:
"Babala: Mag-ingat. Gumuguhong Pader."
-------------------------------------------------
Must research on Ancient Egypt now. Au revoir. A la semaine prochaine.
Post scriptum... Stop psycho-analysing me. I'm just on hyper mode.
:-D
Location: UP Diliman Main Library
Reason for being here: Passing the time 'til I have to go back to the gym and practice the pep squad cheers. (It's only 3:30 and they start the general rehearsal at 5:30.) In short, taking advantage of the 20 free hours of internet for no particular reason. Hey, it's airconditioned here. Not like the heat outside is enjoyable... It's "to die for."
Random News:
I DIDN'T FLUNK MATH. Midsem standing says "3.00." Hell yes. I thought I was going to get a 5 on that. The dreaded "singko." Still half the sem to go... That's one long test and one final exam to survive (and I need to get a 60% on all of them lest I face the ugly reality of failure.)
I was in the College of Arts and Letters a while ago and I ran into Raphie. We met in Koronadal, South Cotabato during the regional press conference. Anyway, we had this conversation (paraphrased)... He's taking Math 17, by the way. UP people you know what that means. Hehe.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: I have an airconed classroom.
Me: I didn't flunk Math 11.
Raphie: You suck!!!!!!!! DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And the rest of the walk to the Math building we were lamenting on how we paid 3,000 (me) and 5,000 (him) for our stupid math classes. I mean, I DON'T NEED MATH. Seriously. Where in POLITICAL SCIENCE do I need algebra? Sure, if it's economics that's fine by me... But this is algebra for crying out loud!
I found the complete collected works of Ambrose Bierce in the CAL Library, by the way.
*This is me jumping up and down like the geek that I am.
Random Questions:
Is "Twilight" as good as everybody says it is? I mean, all this ranting and raving (and swooning) has me thinking "is this worth all the fuss?" From the standpoint of someone who hasn't read it yet, it sounds like a mushy mushy mushy mushy mushy (did I mention mushy?) love story of a girl and a vampire.And, honestly, that's not even new. And all I kept hearing is about this "Edward" guy. Sure, whatever. What about the story? Is there something new in it (different, like a je ne sais quios) or is everybody swearing by it because it's "in?" Okay, SORRY to the fans of the book. But I hate cliche-y love stories. Wait, I hate love stories, period. If it has a tragic ending then I'd probably hate it less. (Stop psycho-analysing me. I know you are.) If it's vampires as the topic then I'd rather read Anne Rice.
*This might also be due to the fact that I don't like reading mainstream stuff. If everybody likes it I start liking it less.
Oh yeah, before I forget, why do they keep skipping the Narnia books?
It goes like:
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
The Horse and His Boy
Prince Caspian
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
The Silver Chair
The Last Battle
Why do they keep skipping???
I though Prince Caspian was one of the less interesting books. Book II is alright. But WHY SKIP???!!! It's losing the "essence." They're ordered like that for a reason. Maybe those producers seem to think that the ones with the Pevensie children are the only ones worth showing. Yeah, but what about the other good stuff? Sheesh.
And while I'm on the topic of books...
Why do bookstores (shops, boutiques, etcetera) sell those cheap, vile, disgusting, worthless, crap-filled unoriginal, trying hard, repulsive little paperback love stories? (The adjectives just keep on coming.) You know, the ones your yaya probably reads. Mine did. DID. I don't have a yaya anymore. (Defensive.) Anyway, I think those are a waste of resources. They're printing major crap on paper. If people want crap they'd go to their bath rooms. Not the bookstores. To think most National Bookstores have shelves devoted to these. If I see these in Powerbooks/ Fully-booked I might just lose faith in all humanity.
(Am I offending anyone? Oh, I'm sorry. But this is MY blog. I'm saying what I want to say.) Okay, hyper me.
And, for that matter, why in the freaking hell are people reading that crap??? Follow-up: Why are people writing that crap??? There are a million things one can write can write about. The world holds wonders for him/her who has the eyes to see them. I don't know why those writers can't find anything to write about but those extreme travesties of literature.
Last night, I was watching the news (GMA-7) and I heard something like "Ding-dong nagselos... *something* girlfriend niyang si Karylle," right before the commercial break. My mind went "What the f***?" You people just wasted millions of pesos worth of airtime for shit like that???!!! Who the effing hell cares about those people??? God. Oh. Am I allowed to use that? Oh whatever. God!
Mainstream media these days are just plain first-class crap.
Don't even let me get started on Filipino movies of the past five years.
Sign of the Week:
"Babala: Mag-ingat. Gumuguhong Pader."
-------------------------------------------------
Must research on Ancient Egypt now. Au revoir. A la semaine prochaine.
Post scriptum... Stop psycho-analysing me. I'm just on hyper mode.
:-D
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Audiophile Mode
In her August 17, 2008 entry, Kimberly Lee defined what an audiophile is and gave examples of her audiophilic pursuits. ( http://oushiro.blogspot.com ) I didn’t know what it was called before, but I guess I have audiophilic tendencies too. And since these have been plaguing me on and off over the course of my dismal existence, I’ll post them. Reminder, these are clichés and dumbness seen through a cynic’s eyes, and must not be taken seriously. Unless you’re a cynic too. :-)
--------------------------------------------------------------
“Anything too stupid to be said is sung.”
-Voltaire
---------------------------------------------------------------
“It starts in my toes
Makes me crinkle my nose...”
---Yikes. Athlete’s foot?
“Wherever it goes
I always know...”
---Wherever what goes? The smell?
“Please stay for a while now
Just take your time
Wherever you go...”
---Can’t you decide if you want the person to stay or not?
“But I can’t spell it out for you
It’s never gonna be that simple...”
---Euphemized illiteracy.
“If you just realize
What I just realized
We’ll be perfect for each other
And we’ll never find another
Just realize
What I just realized...”
---What DID she realize?
---I realized that Colbie is an authoritarian. How can she be sure that what she realized (whatever IT is) is what the other person would think too? Gosh. Lapse in judgment.
“The rain is falling on my window pane
But we are hiding in a safer place...”
---Yes, the rain makes the world sooo unsafe.
“ Everytime I see your bubbly face
I get the tingles in a silly place...”
----The question remains: WHAT DOES SHE MEAN? Bubbly face? Is this some sort of medical condition?
“If a nigga’s got an attitude, pop it like it’s hot...”
---Racism. If Hitler hated on the blacks, this would have been his motto.
“You make me beautiful
For the very first time...”
---Katharine McPhee wrote those lines for her plastic surgeon.
“Look deep in your soul
And know you’re not alone...”
---SCHIZOPHRENIA.
"Let me help you take off your shoes, Untie your shoestrings, Take off your cufflinks
What you want to eat? Let me feed you
Let me run your bath water, Whatever you desire I'll aspire
I'll sing you a song
Turn your game on, Brush your hair, Help you put your do rag on
Want a foot rub? You want a manicure?
…
I Got Your Slippers,Your Dinner,Your Dessert, And So Much More Anything You Want Just Let Me Cater To You…”
---Destiny’s Child, singing the anthem of Domestic Helpers worldwide.
“Upside down
Bouncing on the ceiling
Inside out
Stranger to this feeling...”
---S Club 7 on “The Exorcist.”
“You think you’re special
But I know
And I know
And you know
And we know
That you’re not...”
---So much for constructive criticism.
“Hit me baby one more time...”
---Britney Spears is a masochist! Oh, wait. You already knew that.
“Face down in the dirt
She said ‘this doesn’t hurt...’”
---Masochism, part two.
---Question: How can she talk if her face is against the ground?
“And it must have been so bad
‘Cause even then I must have damn near killed you...”
---Sadism. The music industry really does have S&M enthusiasts. This one’s from Nickelback.
“It’s been a long, long time
Since everything’s been cool...”
---Click Five on the Ice Age.
“Something’s dying on the inside...”
---Click five on dirty laundry.
“Girl, don’t you know you can’t escape me
Ooh darling ‘cause you’ll always be my baby...”
---Creepy stalker much?
“Every move you make
Every step you take
Every bond you break
I’ll be watching you...”
---And I thought David Cook/Mariah Carey was creepy.
“Sometimes I run
Sometimes I hide
Sometimes I’m scared of you...”
---And Britney’s their victim.
“Soulja Boy Up In This Hoe
Watch Me Crank It
Watch Me Roll
Watch Me Crank Dat Soulja Boy
den Super Man Dat
Now watch me YOU
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)
Now watch me YOU
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)
Now watch me YOU
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)
Now watch me YOU
(Crank Dat Soulja Boy)”
*And so on. And on. And on.
---Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I still don’t get it.
“Even though the gods are crazy
Even though the stars are blind
If you show me real love baby
I'll show you mine...”
--- Something doesn’t make sense here... Oh wait, who sang this again? Paris Hilton? Never mind. Wouldn’t expect sense from girl who said “What’s Wal-mart? Do they, like, sell wall stuff?”
“Don’t say a word
I know you feel the same
Just give me a sign
Say anything, say anything...”
---Make up your mind, Good Charlotte.
“Please don’t walk away
I know you wanna stay...”
---If the person is walking away, then evidently the person does NOT want to stay.
“I gotta find a way out
Maybe there’s a way out...”
---Boys like Girls on childbirth.
“Something’s telling me it might be you...”
---Stephen Bishop’s answer to “Who farted?”
“I want you to burn
Burn for me baby
Like a candle
In the night
Oh burn
Burn for me
Burn for me...”
---Holy Inquisition Album Track 1: Catholic Church on Witch Trials. Common sense sold separately.
(That wasn’t blasphemy, was it? *Smirk. )
“I will never let you fall
I’ll stand up with you forever
I will be there for you
Through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven...”
---The title is “Your Guardian Angel,” right?
---Two arguments:
(a) Singer thinks he’s a guardian angel—let’s assume he is.
-Angel falls in love with human, again? God! Pun unintended.
(b) Singer is a delusional human being somehow heavily addicted to this other human being.
-How the hell does he think he’s going to heaven? Pun intended.
“Staying alive
Staying alive
Ah, ah, ah, yeah
Staying alive...”
---Zombie Movie soundtrack.
“You can’t get, get with me
Get away from me
I’m not into what you say
I’m not that easy babe
So don’t think you can play with me...”
---Jamie Lynne Spears on things she said and never did.
“There go the streetlights
The night’s officially on
I’ve got the green light
To do whatever I want...”
---Jessica Simpson’s take on driving under the influence. Word.
“Why can’t I speak whenever I talk about you...?”
---Liz Phair on, er, sign language.
“Baby, I am dying...”
---And I thought it was only in the opera that people sing during that crucial moment.
“I’m not breathing, I’m suffocating...”
---See what I mean?
“I’m learning to fall
I can hardly breathe...”
---It goes on.
“You have stolen my heart...”
---Then how can you still be singing?
“Wake me up
Wake me up inside
Wake me from the nothing I’ve become
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I’ve become...”
---Pessimism meets Count Dracula.
“Thank God I found you
I was lost without you...”
---Mariah talking to her map.
“Get low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low...”
---Filipinos on gas prices.
“Nobody’s gonna get me higher
I must stick with you forever...”
---PCD to their drug dealer.
“Hello...
Is it me you’re looking for...”
---David Cook on looking for a job.
“Open up your mind...”
---Lobotomy.
“What if it’s lost behind,
Words we could never find...”
---Then you wouldn’t have lost anything.
“In the darkness, there’s a clear view...”
---Ashlee Simpson on night vision goggles.
“I love how you can tell
All the pieces,
Pieces of me...”
---Chainsaw massacre victim to CSI.
“It’s as if you know me better
Than I ever knew myself...”
---Amnesiac.
"You make me wanna la la,
On the kitchen, on the floor
You make me wanna la la,
la la la, la la la...”
---Ashlee Simpson on the art of articulation.
“I’m way too cool for you boy
That’s why it will never work...”
---Jojo on egoism.
“Love me, love me, looooooooooooooooove...
You’re gonna loooooooooooooooove (breathe) meeeeeeeeee...”
---Jennifer Hudson on desperation. High octave nobody-can-ever-sing-this-song-like-this-ever-again desperation.
“Here I am
Perfect as I’m ever gonna be
You’ll see
Love me for me...”
---Ahslee Simpson. Egoism AND desperation.
“I’m just your latest mistake...”
---From egoism we go to heavy self-deprecation. Nice to see there’s balance in the world.
“No clouds in my stones...”
---What?
“Now it’s raining more than ever...”
---Rihanna as witness to the Great flood.
“When the sun won’t shine we’ll shine together...”
---Rihanna on arson.
“I think you should let it burn
Let it burn
You gotta let it burn...”
---Usher as Rihanna’s accessory to the crime.
“Get fired up in a hurry...”
---Christina Aguillera, their lookout.
“Told you I’ll be here forever...”
---Rihanna on immortal stubbornness.
“We could go to the slums
Where killers get hung
Shawty I can take you there...”
---Sean Kingston on his hometown.
“Why can’t I turn off the radio...?”
---Neyo on life as an amputee.
“Even the best fall down sometimes...”
---Howie Day, consoling Filipino Olympic contestants. I think.
“I learn every time I bleed...”
---One can only hope Jordin Sparks is not a hemophiliac.
“And I keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding...”
---Now THAT’S hemophilia.
“I can’t waste time
So give it a moment...”
---A “moment” is considered time, dear.
“When I looked in the mirror
It didn’t deliver...”
---Uh, what? Mirror, mirror on the wall where is the pizza I ordered?
“I’ve got you
To make me feel stronger...”
---McFly to steroids.
“I know you can’t stay
But a part of you will never, ever go away
Your heart will stay...”
---Soundtrack of failed artificial heart operations.
“... When you knew all along he was mine from the start...”
---M2M on slavery.
“He’s my baby...”
(Repeat ten thousand times.”
---M2M on teenage pregnancy.
“Bring back my baby to me...”
---M2M on crib death.
“Love me...”
---M2M trying and failing to be Jennifer Hudson
“Sometimes I think I hear you call
Right from my bedroom wall...”
“Spend some time with me
Can’t you seeeeeeeeeeeeeee...”
“When you walk in through the door
Smiling Face
Like I’ve never seen before…”
“I used to write your name
And put it in a frame...”
---M2M and their glorious rhymes.
“When I was dreaming of you
You were dreaming of me...”
---Mother Goose on M2M and their masterful, masterful rhyming abilities.
“Even the wrong words seem to rhyme...”
---Howie Day defending M2M.
“Dear Diary,
something good happened today...”
---M2M trying and failing to be Anne Frank.
“What can I say to make you mine...”
---Nothing. Slavery is prohibited, people.
“I lie awake at night
See things in black and white...”
---M2M on dog vision.
“Let me inside
Make me stay
Right beside you...”
---M2M on stalking.
“Mirror, mirror lie to me
Show me what I wanna see...”
---The only song on Vicki Belo’s iPod.
“When I saw you
I wanted you to be mine...”
---How many times must you be reminded that slavery is prohibited?
“I must be stupid
Must be crazy
Must be out of my mind...”
---M2M. Nothing follows.
========================= :-)
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