The Pillars Opinion rant

Now I know that the word nostalgia is a pocket ready term for aging persons. Last night while I was skimming through the latest copy of the Pillars Opinion, a flood of memories was drowning me, in a good way. (Click here if you want to see online copies of archives)

The usual topics of TFI (tuition fee increase, as always), fraternities (staple article), Sexual Deviation - Chuvaness (no better topic?), Balikatan, SM Effects on Naga's businesses, BS DoTA and Urulay Ulay Atenista brought back images of Bonks wrestling Diablo on the antique PC, Ninoy puffing on his endless supply of malboros holding in his other hand magic cards, Fiel and OJ Bulao playing physical Tabuc style indoor basketball, and heartthrob King intent on finishing his latest crossword challenge. In the background is the voice of Elvie, our managing editor, cussing about the piss filled coke Litro, the trapped cigarette butts in between hardwood floors, the extended deadlines, and the occasional condom neatly wrapped in the doorknob.

As these images came like a flash, I immediately blurted out, "Is this all they could write about now? We certainly were better than this pretentious high falooting journalists wannabee." Insecurities abound, I gave every article a paragraph to catch my attention, only to turn to the last one, Urulay Ulay Atenista, only not to finish it for lack of interest. I wanted my ten minutes back.

Can I no longer relate to college level writing style, or are these new crop of Pillars writers taking themselves too seriously?

To be fair, we can never be impartial judges of ouselves, bias will always creep in when we try to compare our work to a similar rendition. Our parents manifest these all the time, "Kan kapanuhanan mi, lakaw lang kami. Ang balon mi diyes sentimos lang." Of course they could always walk, there were fewer vehicles. The streets were safer. The sun was tolerable then. Even the air was clearer back then. Try walking nowadays, and a 8 to 10 chance exists you'll get fumed with black smoke, a 1 to 10 chance your cellphone might get snatched. And a probability, you'll go home with heat stroke.

On the other hand, I cannot fathom how these young thespians would resort to analyzing the psychological effects of computer games to the young minds, or the effect of SM Naga to business and cultural statuses of the city, or heck, how the Balikatan exercises even matter. Why don't they stay within the ballpark for once? Talk about what youngsters keep up all night most of the time, young love, a bit of booze, cheap snack hangouts, heck talk about why thee are dental and clinic fees when you never use them.

Sounds like a rant right? I admit I am just frustrated to find that something that was once yours could turn into an old lady in a decade. It's like you have to relocate and leave a girlfriend behind. The distance doesn't work so you eventually break up. After ten years you chance upon her profile in facebook, click on a couple of albums only to find a wrinkled stressed shell of her herself in a family photo of her fifth daughter's birthday.

I am just saddened to realize either one of the two things, that I am too old to understand youth jargon, or that a typical parochial institution can suck the fun out of the typical campus journalism shenanigans - the hidden banters, the clues in inside jokes, the low blow articles, and the shocking exposes. For the life of me I want to believe it's the former, but this rather incompetent judge of talent insists the latter.

NBA Draft Day Deals: Shaq to Cleveland

The Big Diesel, Cactus, Aristotle, whatever is teaming up with another MVP in Lebron to try to capture his last title. He's still a force judging by his number and this screams like a panic move from Cleveland considering that their weak spots are obviously an agile forward who can guard tweener power forwards (think Lewis, Dirk, Josh Smith) or a bigger small forward to go into small ball when Lebron slides to the PF position (think Posey, Pietrus, Stephen Jackson).

I am not too excited by this move considering Shaq's age, his ability to pick and roll, and the stack of big men which are duplicated with his entry. They still have Big Z (whom they should try to move), Varejao (who can be effective if he can shoot the 15 foot J consistently) and Joe Smith (whom I think should start but wouldn't due to seniority's sakes.

They still have the midlevel and they free up some salary due to the expiration of Wally World's contract so they should get someone. if this does not wok out, they will still be free of the one-year rental of Shaq and of course Lebron who would bolt if they don't capture the title this year.

Addition Suggestions: Matt Barnes - Phoenix, Grant Hill - Phoenix, Antonio Mcdyess - Pistons, Charlie Villa - Bucks and Jason Kidd- Mavs.

NBA Draft Day Deals: Carter to Orlando

This is a bold move by the Magic that should generate some applause. They bring in Vince Carter, his chicken wing dunk, his half-man half-a-season reputation and 40 million plus in salary for Courtney Lee, Battie and Alston. Instead of staying put and hoping to sign Turkoglu, they acquire the versatile swingman who is perfect for the second or third option behind man beast Dwight Howard.

This deal should give Van Gundy more option and creativity with his offensve sets, now owning two good to great defenders in the wing position in Pietrus, a revelation during the 08-09 playoffs and Carter.

This must have the boys in Cleveland and Boston cramming for a deal to counter this one as the Orlando perimeter game just gets better. The question now is to re-sign Turk who can command 10 mil plus a year in salary which will definitely put them over the cap.

I dare the Magic to let Turk walk and go after Gortat, who showed a lot of promise playing D12's backup. And with the remaining money, spend on a backup PG, or a versatile PG-SG type. Suggestion additions: Ronnie Brewer of Utah, Brandon Bass of Dallas, Jarret Jack of Indiana, and Anthony Parker of Toronto.

Transformers: Just like watchin' porn

It's like watching porn, you know what to expect. A lot of slam bang, a lot of action, little to no drama. If there is even a hint of plot, it would last two minutes. It is just a pure thrill ride. Brainless action and skin flick.

This is what you will get from Revenge of the Fallen. A lot of action, I mean stacked, over the top explosions, and extended screen time for those masterfully digitized robots. Megan Fox in her eye candy role, and of course Michael Bay out of this world action scenes, think Bad Boys 2 highway scene.

Of course these types of movies should not be critically reviewed and be taken for what it is. It is a mindless action flick. Even if its constructed that way, still it should have a semblance of a coherence or hint of a plot.

Even the attempt at humor is a bit desperate. I think it is aimed at ten year olds, the humping dogs, or the humping robot on Megan Fox (understandable), the hysterical mother who wasn't remotely like that in part 1, or that new Mexican guy who is always terrifyingly screaming like a girl or hugging the next guy to him out of sheer fright are terribly forced and can only illicit Andrew E. levels shrieks.

Overall I would not complain of the robots, the animators did a masterful job. It was only on the execution portion that I am pissed. You setup a new villain, the Fallen, for extended time, only to be ripped by Optimus Prime in under twenty seconds in the final battle. What was that? The only good battle was when Prime died during the battle royal with Megaton and Starscream. In the other sequences, you cannot distinguish who is fighting who, if it's an Autobot or Decepticon or if the US military is even bombing the right guys.

This was a two hour and a half hour action chase filled ride which was slowly tuning into an extended clip of a movie in Gods of War or Final Fantasy. It could have worked if this was concise. If they are going to do a new movie, which will probably 100% occur, I hope they put it in the right hands, let Guillermo del Toro do it, or even Bryan Singer (even if he ruined Superman Returns), or Kevin Smith, he knows comedic dialogues, and we can possibly see some more of Megan Fox's parts. I am just fed up of the over the top, mindless action sequences of Michael Bay. He should be the fallen after this one.

Obsessed: Fatal Attraction 2

How is this for a premise: Ali Larter and Beyonce Knowles having a catfight to the death over some dude? Interesting right? The problem is the dude. If he was some kind of an Adonis or a Brad Pitt, it would be understandable. But he's some random black dude and he isn't even in the caliber of Denzel, or Usher, or even Eddie Muphy.
It is mind boggling.
It's I believe I can fly mode ala Seal and Heidi Klum.
It's improbable, every man is envious.
At least it's fiction, to say the most.

The plot: Idis Elba and Beyonce have a newborn son, an illustrious career, and are settling into a new house. Ali Larter is temp in the guy's office. She sees something in the guy which is impervious to the naked eye, and stalks, harrasses and obssesses about him to the point that it is supposed to be scary in a fatal way.

The funny thing is I cannot reconcile by any means that this guy can reject Ali Larter coming onto him in the bathroom, initiating all the moves, or an Ali Larter who flashes her body covered only by black lingerie in her full glory. She even had to resort to drugging him just to do the nasty.

By the final act where Beyonce and Ali Larter entangle in a catfight, I am laughing my ass off and waiting for the expected to happen, a gory death for Larter, pobably with her falling from the stais or something. True enough, she dies a gruesome death falling into a hole in the ceiling with the chandelier falling on top of her.

While it must be obvious that this movie was made to warn cheating husbands of psychotic obsessed flings, I could not get the mental image of Ali Larter in my head, over-all doing the opposite. They should have probably used a different actress, I have my biases I admit. Who doesn't?

Rebooting the Man in the Ski Mask

Yes, Jason is back and along with him the formulaic Friday the 13th franchise that we have come to love and hate, at times.

The opening fifteen minutes showed a lot of promise. The usual adventurous teenagers trying to find marijuanaheaven come across a deranged maniacal psycho killer and one by one drop like flies. The kills were swift and imaginative from a half naked woman hanged upside down on a sack torched over the campfire to his lover whose head was quickly detached with a machete-type of weapon.

From there, it gets a bit of a drag. Another group of vacationeers camp into a guest house and their adventures in the forest suddenly eliminates them one by one. Even the breast exposures cannot save the lengthy uneventful sequences. There was the opening silicone breast sequence, the waterskiing topless lunatic hot chick, and best of all that fully bloomed woman on top blessed the natural cup DDDDs. (I bet you will see this movie due to the previous sentence, well that was the highlight of the movie)

Maybe the film was a fail for me, after watching a lot of Jason movies, since I was kind of expecting an origins story. How did Jason get his mask, why does he have a hunger to kill, and how did he survive the drowning? And why doesn't he ever die?

Well at least they showed in the first frames his trauma of experiencing his own mother's gory death, with the head detaching from its neck. This is why I thought it had some promise from the start, but what we get is another formulaic, forgettable Friday the 13th which is full of gory violence, teenage lust, and more mobile and agile Jason (who shows a bit of smart savvy with his bells and all) but lacks that new story so to speak.

Just another Friday the 13th, with the 13 body count, after all.

Iskwater ako

Mga alas siyete kan sarong banggui, may bigla na lang nagburulyawan sa luwas. Basta baga nadangog ko na sana "Ipapulis pa nindo ako" sabay nagralagatakan ang garo nagkaparasa na baso. Kan sinundan nya man na banggui duwang lalakeng burat man ang nagporormahan tapos inarawat man sana kan mga kapwa lasngag. Kansuudma man, sarong teenager na nagboboard sa likudan mi ang nagsuicide, naginom nin pahingurag na anti-bacterial. Broken hearted daa, sayang magayon pa naman. Maray sana ta dae man nadagusan.

Ini ang San Miguel sa Santa Cruz.

Street man daa an samong looban. Dae man ngani maapod na street ta motorsiklo na sana ang nakakalaog one way pa. Sa sobrang sadit kan looban garo na kami nagbuburuya pag naglalaog o luwas sa dalan. Dapat kaini interior sana, garo laog kan rida, ta sadit man na maray, mini ang size.

Typikal ang samong looban. Aga pa lang yaon na sa may atubangan kan sari-sari store si Bugoy na kapot ang sarong litrong Red Horse. Mayong baso, diretsong um-om, alas siyete pa sana nin aga. Ang mga babae man kung dae nagtsitsirismisan habang nagpapasuso nin mga aki ninda, garo mga mathematician na grabe ang intellectual discussion tungkol sa reading sa jueteng. Dae pa digdi kabali ang mga aki na mayong karikarigos na abang kulit na naghahapot kung mapaapon ka na kan basura nindo o kung pwedeng maka-arbor nin piso.

Maogma na maribok ang samong lugar. Normal na ang mga nabuburulyawan na mga magagom, mga kataid na nagpapakurusugan nin radyo saka mga burat na nagdadaraklagan bote. Kumbaga sa Pinoy movie garo setting sa pelikula ni Philip Salvador sa Joe Pring.

Pero gaano man ini karibok o kagulo, dae ko ipapadaog ang lugar na ini. Didgi naimmortalize ang mga vandal sa lanob na arog kan:

"By the power of my imagination, I will destroy your virginity"
"Don't fuck the fuckers, coz if you fuck the fuckers, the fuckers will fuck you."
"I hate vandalism, but God said, 'Love your enemies', so, I love vandalism."

Ang San Miguel man ang nagpakusog kan boot ko. Dae na ako takot sa medyo delikadong lugar, aram ko na ang gigibohon. Tipong lakaw na mapakumbaba, ang dungo nasa dalan, luway luway sana ta baka mapagkamalan na maton. Sabay pag may nangikil, bunot tulos sabay tao maski singko na sana ang nasa bulsa.

Kung kaipuhan mo man maski anong second hand, cellphone maski anong tatak, o kaya imported nasapatos, o maski mga electric fan, halat halat ka sana ta may marani na sana saimong tambay. Yaon diyan si nangangaipo nin panginom kaya pinapabakal na sana nin 400 ang electric fan, o kaya man si may paryentes na nagpadara nin package tapos mayo man nin gagamitan kan Italian shoes (nakabakal ako 500 lang) tapos siyempre si nakahabon nin latest model nin Nokia.

Ini ang samong lugar. Dakul na dikit ang pagbabago. Si mga kababata ko na mga siga kadto, siga pa man giraray, pero may mga hanapbuhay naman.

Kan sarong aldaw ngani nagsakay akong padyak pauli, nabigla ako ta nagpundo na sana sa looban. Eu palan ta si Alden ang nagpapasada. Gwapito man kadto, ang bata Atenista, mala nagpusaw na ang kaputian ta nagkakayod na sana. Naremalaso lugod si diyes pesos ko ata singko lang dapat ang bayad. Masupog man kaya.

Si Marlon man na eu ang pinakamagulang ming kasurog sa inter-zone basketball, nagpinatal. Tigsnatahcan ang sarong mukhang momong na estudyante sa Cathedral. Ang dae nya aram runner palan to sa track and field. mala Barlin pa sana nahabol na sya, naguli baga bugbog sarado pagkatapos ma-piyansyahan. Duwa naman kaya ang aki, mayo pa nin trabaho ang mag-agom. Makiherak man hade?

Eh tano ta yaon pa ako digdi? Masakit magsuway, saka boring man sa ibang lugar. Maski gustuhon ko naman maghale, mau pa man sagtak, saka for shure, mamimiss ko ang drama kan lugar. Kaya ngani binoblog ko na bago pa maglipas sa utak ko. Ang pook San Miguel, Sta Cruz Proper, Naga City, 4400.

Drag me to Hellacious

What do you do when you go to Cubao-Ali Mall, three hours early before the bus to Naga leaves? And it is raining like there is no tomorrow? And you have nobody with you?
No, not hookers! (Great minds think alike.)

Yes, a movie. So typical. So I plan to waste (enjoy?) those extra hours inside the theater, and line up for Angels and Demons for lack of better choice. It was that or Terminator Salvation (seen that) or Night at the Museum (check!) or Drag me to hell (appealing but I never watch horror movies alone). Between my movie picking and my near-exploding bladder, this mystifying ticket counter chick tells me I am already 13 minutes late. The near exploding bladder wins, so I pick the next token movie, which this blog title suggests.

it was not a bad alternative considering I get almost two hours of Alison Lohman who looks a lot like Isla Fisher (whom I also have this boy-crush on). The thing with me on horror movies and horror houses, I get the bravado when I am with someone who is the more terrified. Otherwise, it is me slouching in the chair, closing my eyes, distracting myself during intense scenes or simply muting out the sounds by putting my fingers in my ears. In this case, I am alone, so 30 minutes in the movie, I have done all three.

The stupid me realizes by the second act that the movie seems to be some kind of parody, or comedy. The blood and gut scenes are exaggerated, the elements of thrillers are done to extreme effects that it almost makes it funny. There are, I think, six (6!) scenes where Lohman gets something in her mouth by accident, be it a fly, or the eyes of the old woman gorging out, or some sticky green fluid from the woman's mouth. Suddenly, the horror movie is actually a comedy.

Yes, it was a laugther from the moment I realized it wasn't that serious, especially when the goat... God damn I haven't mentioned the premise yet, right? Quick recap: Girl is a loan's officer in bank. In her effort to get the assistant manager's position, she ejects a loan extension on a gypsy. Gypsy begs and kneels for her extension, she stands firm, Gypsy curses her to be dragged into hell. Gypsy in a heartbeak dies and torments Lohman's soul.

So where was I? Yes, the goat. The exorcist of some kind can trap the demon's spirit in her body but it must be transferred to the goat, which must be slayed upon transfer, which expectantly doesn't happen. Now for the climax, in an effort to reverse the curse, Lohman digs the old woman's grave and in a comedic fashion gets repeatedly mouth to mouth, or hand in her hair, or face to face with the dead gypsy's body. Still, despite all these, she still comes out all sexy despite the mud and the spit and the phlegm. Yes, she's that good looking.

So after all that I get out of the theater feeling I did not watch a horror movie. Embarrassing may it be to admit but I was all slouched, finger in ears during the fist part, when two young girls three seats from me were all relaxed and excited. You will ask, did she get dragged into hell? Do you feel lucky?

Cm on watch the movie for Christ's sake. I mustered a lot of courage to go through all that.

7 out of 10.

That dreaded M word

No it is not Marriage, that just comes second by a hair.

Dread is reserved for maturity. You see, maturity is a long road trip. You begin the ride anxious to see the end of it. Along the way, there are a lot of bumps and humps and adventures. Next thing you know, you are enjoying the full ride. A minute later, just when you get the hang of the long road, you're unexpectedly at the last stop.

I do not know if one gets the metaphor and all, but the main point is that I am at the end of the road trip. How do I know this?

a) On a weekday during the ungodly, unholy hours, I wake up to the sound of giggling, ogling, and boisterous laughter from obvious participants of an all-nighter drinking spree. I fight back with a yell, "Hoy magpaturog kamo, kung habo nindo magturog." (In plain English: The old man next door doesn't know how to party and doesn't get today's youth)
b) On a business trip which lasts throguh the weekend, I pack up my bags on the Friday and head home, anxious and excited to spend quality time with my kids.
c) After office hours, I pretend to be busy working late or time my CR break when my posse is timed to appoach my desk and hint at after office beers. I disappear like the shadow before the dusk hits me.
d) At siesta time, the next door emo-neighbor is just being acquainted with Rage Against the Machine. I cross my fingers, hope and pray that my two-month old son doesn't get startled by Zack de la Rocha or I would have to redo the waltz lullaby all over again.
e) The games I enjoy nowadays are limited to Diablo II, World of Goo and Texttwist. I.will.stop.here.

Going back, why do I use the word dread, when in fact I am enjoying it, having found my peace. No more partying until dawn, or putting names into familiar faces I met some bar nights before, or being updated to latest music, or billboard top 50 hit list, or trying to tell my barber to do an emo-look when I have been sporting the same Jose Rizal look for twenty years max. Come to think of it, I should relocate the bangs to the left side, as that side is already being pushed back into a landing area.

What is the point in all these? I do not know, honestly, we all have our measures of maturity, and at some point, whatever our age is, we still revert back to selfish little brats and do beer bongs, and pass up some joint. The more important thing than the whole point of maturity is the comma, where we are allowed to pause, breathe, and see life in a slowed down motion, to see how far in the road we have been.

And yes, how much more miles we have to cover.