Thoughts on: Moms being abducted...

Everyone has probably heard of the animated movie, Mars Needs Mom. Well, I have definitely heard about it but I've yet to see it and I don't think it takes a genius to guess the whole message of the film

I have a Mom (excuse me for stating the obvious). I call her Mads (because she's literally MAD with an "s"!). And yes she has the temper that could most probably swipe off the whole martian race with just a 5-second nag...

but I would certainly go through any lengths to rescue her from any alien abduction.

In fact, I think the moment my Mom nags in the Martian mother-ship, those suckers are going to send her right back home. 

I love my Mom... even if it takes listening to her ear-bleeding nags every.single.time.

Who is the Walrus?

Strictly speaking, I am no Walrus. Aside from the obvious appearance, I literally cannot take the honor. If you've been raised in a Beatles household, you're probably getting me right now. If not, then let me make this educational session, (as) concise (as possible).

I've only known 4 famous Walruses in my lifetime. Well, technically, 3 since one is from the very famous marine mammal genus,  Odobenus rosmarus. The other three that I (at least) know about are the following:

• The Walrus from "The Walrus and the Carpenter". Ring a bell? He was, according to the annoying twins (next to Upin and Ipin) Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the devious-scheming-cigar-smoking walrus who tricked a handful (more like, stomach-ful) of baby oysters to a little get-to-know-each-other luncheon. The same walrus who taught little kids (and adults on acid) never to trust strangers and to never eat more (oysters) than what your stomach can handle because it either concludes to a tear-jerking stomach ache or, plain and simply, "meal binge guilt"
• Jaime Hyneman. The smartest of all the walruses I know. You might well recognize him as the laconic guy with a mustache and a severe fascination for black berets on the Discovery Channel series, The Mythbusters. This walrus' biggest contribution to humanity is his undying determination to blow things up and impart to the world that man has really been to the moon. Tsk!
• And lastly, perhaps the most prominent of all walruses in human (and walrus) history, the only walrus who WAS also an "eggman". John Lennon. I cannot put into words his innumerable contributions to (my life and) humanity in general so... I'm not even gonna try.

Long live the Walrus!

notes from the underground...

Ok, just to set things straight, I would like to set all hypocrisy aside by merely admitting that, YES, yes I grew up listening to the era of girls on high-heeled rubber shoes and boys with an uncanny obsession of hair gel and un-sexy baggy shirts and jeans. I'm a 90s kid (technically born in the late 80s), what d'you expect? But, hell, I am proud of it! Being a 90s kid, I mean.

That utterly embarrassing fandom has met its doom. I don't know and I cannot remember how. Probably started when the rumors of the Spice Girls being a bunch of lady dude drag queens came out or perhaps when news spread that Stephen from Boyzone was in fact, gay. Not that I am against their sexuality really, but perhaps I have been straying away from my audio destiny far too long.

You see my dad would repeatedly tell me that when I was young, one of his rituals of putting me to sleep (literally and I don't mean murder), was to put Sting or Genesis on his old gramophone. Thus, I (actually) grew up listening to my dad's audio dubs. From the above-mentioned to Dylan, The Beatles,  Pink Floyd, Tears for Fears, Toto, DuranDuran, Queen, Hendrix, The Doors, and sometimes even The Black Sabbath. So I guess it's safe to say that I INITIALLY had good, no, AWESOME taste in music. Heck I even grew up believing that Phil Collins was one of my Dad's best friends. So I told everybody in school (kindergarten) that I had a famous uncle. Didn't really matter back then. No one knew Uncle Phil! Can you believe that? Those losers! hihihihi!

Some 7/8 years after my boy/girl band fandom, I fell in love with the underground.

Cebu City has a lot to offer. Really! I mean that dude from ChannelFix can bash the city (come one! it was obviously us!) any way he can, but I do not know whether to call him shallow or plain stupid, he's only been at the tip of the iceberg. Cebu City is all about "the underground". And by underground, I don't mean the literal or the illegal. This site features Cebu City's heart. Heart! That's it! Cebu City's underground is Cebu City's heart. And though the above-mentioned site has already probed on A LOT of Cebu City's secrets, from food, to awesome spots, the people, crafts, I would like to keep this entry consistent (and hopefully, original) by presenting something that the site has still yet to cover and further probe,  Cebu City's underground music scene… or at least, a gist of it.

I understand that every band started from the underground (scene, that is), and so below are just a few of my personal favorites. Though some may not even be considered as "Underground" since they've made quite a name in the local industry, but underground still, thus, they've NOT YET penetrated the mainstream picture.

Gardo, One Man Down, Queen City Crew - I had to place these guys first (collectively) for the very obvious reason that they're literally The Kings of Cebu's hardcore-punk scene. There's not a gig when these guys aren't surrounded by a significant number of kids in the mosh pits, two-stepping their way to eventual tooth loss and that utter epiphany of hardcore nirvana... whatever that is.

Tiger pussy - Deemed as one of the very few (if not, only) Riot punk band in the city, Tiger Pussy has indeed brought the role of the female in a very male dominated punk scene into another level. Setting aside the "vagina dentata"-ish band name, this band has indeed lived up to its principle, that is to deviate from the norms with good ol' punk spirit. I mean, how often do you have a punk band with a female vocalist and bass player in a city where punk is definitely (don't even try to deny it!) subdued by the the so-called "emo" and "Korean wannabes", and still be prominent? Only Tiger's Pussy can answer that! Wait, did I just say?.. naaaah!

False Graveyard - The self-proclaimed sex gods of the city's metal scene who, collectively, just wants to be loved. These guys have been in the scene for quite some time now and despite the fact that the spectrum of the "metal" genre is basically ruled by guitar shredding, mathematically calculated drum beats and a vocals that sounds just like a pig on the brink being slaughtered, these guys are actually VERY good at it! They've practically been my favorite local metal band since I first saw them live some 4 years ago.

NeverEnding Weekend - Bound by everyone's known wish to never end the weekends, this band has, ironically, never made that universal wish come true, BUT, they've certainly made weekend gigs memorable. A crowd favorite, this band has finally placed electronic rock + softcore on its rightful place in the local scene, in front of moshing kids who are either swooning over the band's female vocalist or grabbing her mic to sing the songs themselves. Initially influenced by AvA this band has practically written a significant number of songs relating to love, friendship, life, and soon (hopefully), moonshine hangovers.

Capetown Claims - One of my boyfriend's favorite local bands, he only has a few, and that is saying a lot! *cough* Rage-Against-The-Machine-ish *cough*

Short 56 - Claiming to have been the spawn of random explicit things which blew up and turned into little golden butterflies, Short 56 has indeed placed the FU in FU... N! Reminds me a lot of Blink182 and NFG in their prime years. These guys can write the most random things about being dumped to holiday gatherings to reminiscing.

Free For All - One of the many underrated bands in the city, this punk Christian band is the very epitome of "awesomeness regardless of age". Having perhaps one of the most powerful vocals in the scene these guys can definitely put on an awesome show. Very promising!

Cross the Devil - Have you read their facebook info already? Still gave me goosepimples after my second read. These guys are literally Hardcore Christians (and proud! Amen!) playing electronic metalcore music. Though their Devil Wears Prada influence cannot be denied, these guys are still giving everyone awe deviating from the norms of metalcore in the city by adding electronic drum machines and synthesizers.

Save the Queen - Is  a proud University band initially gaining prominence after winning a competition. Though there's not much information as to who, what, or where this "Queen" is, it does not really matter, with talents like theirs, you would not care how they're named and why such.

Shuffled - The official soundtrack band of the city. Though these guys have been around for quite some time, their music, literally, never gets old!

Catch all theirs gigs and shows on their respective band pages and always remember: If you are what you eat then I guess it's safe to say, You are what you're listening to too.

And right now, I'm listening to Queen. \m/

Other notable Cebuano talents are noted here as well. But then again, I guess you've already read that.

Who is the Walruskukukachoo? (now, Geez Curls)

Fire from the East

Only a true phoenix is ever capable of taming the flame.

The prophecy. Those were the very words my late brother whispered unto my ears before the darkness took him. The feel of his warm breath still sends shivers up my spine even in memory. A true warrior he was. He led our people at a very young age of 16. A true King. But he was no flame tamer. He had the temper of a teaspoon. His bipolar eccentricities were his only flaws. He led our people, fought countless battles. But just hours before he died, the enemy continued forging their way from the South. 

The Wildlings, our generals call them. A dominion of godless, merciless, spineless horde who once, collectively, dwelt among the forest of the vast Southern lands. It is said that to date, 5 years after Lerion's death, the wildlings have doubled their army. That the best we could do was not only to recruit and train boys of the fighting age of 16 but to build a fortress. A dozen league high wall with almost the same in width. That there is no hope for us when the beasts invade. 

This is cowardice! Every inch of me bellowed. 

This was not the same mentality my late brother has instilled upon our people. My brother was our strength. He was my strength. But he is not with us now. It has been as such for half a decade. 

When the throne was passed, it came to me as a burden more than a gift. At the age of 18, I knew nothing about leading a city or war or life. But the years have scrapped every part of soul and it has taught me that war does not eradicate cowardice nor does it build up strength. War numbs you. Every part of your viscera. That sometimes death does not need blood be split but it always needs souls be emptied.

I have seen the faces of war. For years I have protected my people as an act of promise to the rulers before me. I have killed countless men, soldiers and I have died everyday since then. Five years I have led my soldiers against these so-called Wildings. The strongest armor, the sharpest swords, the thickest shield and the fastest horse were all my glamour. My true identity unknown.

I have won battles, never lost, but everyday has been defeat. There was no other way to destroy the enemy. The enemy that we've yet to see. Al Rodog.

At the age of 23, I sit on a throne paved with the purest of gold. At the age of 23, I have led battalions upon battalions of soldiers outside our city walls for battle. At the age of 23, I have been fighting a century old war with a nomad enemy who, despite having lost hundreds of men in every battles, are still growing in numbers. 

The whole "Phoenix" prophecy should be deemed fallacious...

"BRING THE PRISONER!"

The locks on my cell chimed. It has been a week since I last saw the outside of my prison walls.

"Al Rodog will see you now." A stout bearded man, with an usual set of spectacles, stood at the door. On his left arm clung the keys to General Unin's cell.

"Now now. You mustn't think daft thoughts. You two will never make it out of here alive." He scoffed. "Name's Domeo. And I assure you if you will just cooperate, unlike the previous days, you might probably have the chance to negotiate with the Al. That's why you were sent here right? To negotiate?"

He led me out into what looked like their fortress' dungeon prison cells. The smell of dead rats reeking through every walls.

"Where are the other prisoners?" I queried.

"The Al does not take prisoners. Saves him the time and effort to transport them here".

Murderous bastard. I shouted mentally but then I reckoned, weren't we all?

The walk out the dungeon then led us to the training field (one that was twice the size as ours in the city) , across was the a rather aesthetically odd tent. I imagine this is where Al Rodog stays but Domeo took a detour to the left towards the south wing of the whole fortress. And alas, at the end of the seemingly cold corridor lies the gates of my very doom. Two colossal doors opened and with my last step I entered the hall of my final judgement. 

For the first time since my brother died, I was afraid.

In the middle of the room stood the bane of my family's existence. His back against the court, his very presence excruciating. I could very well destroy him with just an abrupt toss of a sword. Just one strong dart despite the chains on my wrists. Just. One. Swift. Thro...

"What message from your Queen?" He began.

Then, it dawned upon me. 

He too does not know his enemy...

I am Simbelmyne Helios, Queen of the Eastern Kingdoms of Bellan. Only daughter of the great King Eodor and sister of the late King Lerion. For centuries a war has been upon our kingdom from a once unknown enemy. Whispers of a prophecy has been going around for decades, the same prophecy that is thought to destroy this enemy. Only a true phoenix is ever capable of taming the flame.

I am Simbelmyne Queen of Bellan's Eastern Kingdoms and I am the last of the lineage of the Phoenix...

False consensus...

“No one will ever love you the way I do.”

How very condescending.

Ten words. Just ten words. Imagine the audacity. I hear that a lot from people around me and you know the sad truth behind this bullshit? Some actually believe it like it’s some kind of prophetic biblical passage from the Exodus of stupidity. Not that I’m speaking for or against this spectrum of “love-struck” swooning kids but, heck! I don’t think it takes  a drastically heinous Casanova to make an exceedingly devious damsel realize that MEN (of all shapes, sizes and sometimes maybe even, length) are in fact NOT THE SAME! 

Bet you thought I was going to say otherwise, eh? All men are not the same, why? 

Simple! 

I haven't met ALL of 'em.

try travelling without taking pictures...

the strongest woman in the world is indeed Queen Amidala

Senator Padme, technically.

the promises she heard from the then Jedi Warrior she bore her Jedi kids with were all bogus.

"i will not bend i will not break."

but then she stood strong and firm.

"youre going down a path i cannot follow"

probably the bravest line youll ever tell someone you love.

you see, when ambitions consume you, once you get anchored within that vehemently seductive belly of the beast, there's still a way out, the question is, do you want a way out?

"i always wanted to go to Cambodia. plant Cannabis Sativa, literally on a pot. collect the sand from every beach i soak in. read my favorite book on a hammock at 530 in the morning (when Venus is most visible). get bitten by an insect and end up in a hospital. live in a hut. clean it every week. be a vegetarian. breath the most virgin of breezes. get away with stealing a mango fruit from an untrespassable property. plant a whole plantation of Suriguelas (Sinaguelas..basta kanang color violet kung hinog then green kung dili pa hinog). fly my own kite on a rice field. sew my own clothes from used curtains. i want to be free from the hassles and pleasures of the city...away from mediocrity.

raise little Jedi knights and name one Becky ♥."

try travelling without taking pictures, perhaps it would be more memorable that way.

but the Jedi Warrior wants otherwise.

"Anakin wants power. charisma. dictatorship. the Millennium falcon. to free his mother. save practically everyone he loves. save me and perhaps the future with the little padawans."

but it is he who is in danger. 
and so i add..

"Youre going down a path i cannot follow. i will stay right here, in case you decide to come back."

but then again, it took about a 5-second force choke to eventually kill her during child (technically, children) birth...

Anakin protected her from a fallacious prophecy of death by turning into the Dark side...not knowing it was he who fulfilled that very prophecy...

Tears for Fears...

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST/BAND, answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think!

• Are you a male or female: Ladybird
• Describe yourself: Queen of Compromise
• How do you feel: Start of a breakdown
• Describe where you currently live: Mad world
• If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Secret World
• Your favourite form of transportation: Moses on a motorbike (Break it down again)
• Your best friend is: The sun and the moon. The wind and the Rain (Woman in chains)
• Your fear: Mothers talk
• What is the best advice you have to give: Soon we will be older. When we gonna make it work? (Advice for the young at hearts)
• Thought for the Day: Let it all out. (Shout)
• How I would like to die: Sowing seeds of love
• My soul's present condition: Head over Heels
• My motto: Everybody wants to rule the world.

Not like the movies...

I learn a lot from movies. Especially from those mainly casted by graphically animated animals and in-animate toys. But perhaps the most important lesson I have learned from a movie is from The Big Fish.

Finding true love, making the past memorable, fighting in a war, going on a crazy adventure and, yes, even religion and politics. Ed Bloom thus narrated that although the parrots in Africa could not speak English, they could indeed speak the most fluent of French. The same parrots talk about almost everything EXCEPT religion and politics, why? Because you never know who you’d offend.

Very well said, I must say, if only the people would listen. I mean, it’s all over the news. Morality versus practicality. Legality versus Spiritual salvation. Whatever happened to Church separated from the State and v/v?

Just today, I’ve “re-watched” the critically acclaimed film (and novel) The Da Vinci Code. Critically acclaimed, yes but the whole fiction was thus “banned” by most Catholic sectors. And then again, I would not want to mock the belief about “not discussing politics and religion” but here’s a mouthful:

Religion is politics. Politics is religion.

Simple semantics. Whether we’re offended or not, both terms are eternally bound to be discussed. Why? Because both are human, doomed either to oblivion or sheer excommunication. Politics and Religion are earthly mortal terms both complicating perhaps the only immortal term in all the known realms… God.

I love my God and whether He be defined by science or not, I will always believe in him.

I love His Son, Jesus Christ, and whether he be mortal, a patriarch, a husband, or partially a sinner like all of us, I will ALWAYS believe in Him.

It does not matter really, just as politics and religion are not to be discussed anywhere, it does not matter, why? Because we are human. Imperfect souls, ignorant and hungry. And as long as we stay human, we question, we object, we believe.

Hello, I'm Gonzo.

Gonzo, yes, that hook-nosed blue alien muppet, who, in all of The Muppets series taught every kid of every generation that friends, irregardless of the genus (and well... fabric type), sometimes, are the very family you are seeking for. And of course, being Kick Buttowski's ultimate inspiration, Gonzo also taught us that if you have the heart at doing what you do best, then every dare in life is just a simple everyday task.

Gonzo, yes, Hunter Thompson, who taught me two things about life:

• As things stand now, I am going to be a writer. I'm not sure that I'm going to e a good one or even a self-supporting one, but until the dark thumb of fate presses me to the dust and says, "You are nothing", I will be a writer.
• Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whiskey and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested. 

The only Gonzo that I AM NOT is that (euphemistically) adult modelling site which offers men of every ages a 2-minutes-ish release of their so-called "kid juice". Holy fvck! Did i just say kid juice!?

Saving everything for the airwaves..

Every once in a while I get (figuratively) attacked by a sudden urge of writing my heart out in, particularly, the oddest parts of my usual everyday routine. Mostly while I’m on the potty, or that moment when I seemingly close my eyes before a sneeze or, very very frequently, that millisecond interval of my last blink from being awake to being asleep. As you might have rationalized by now, the mentioned scenarios apparently lead to eventual mental oblivion, thus, goodbye new composition.

This one right here is no different, only this time, the urge was stimulated by a song. Yes, 3-ish minutes of non-stop trance and literal vocabulary meltdown. So, like any other canny writers would do, I toggled the playlist. Now it’s a full hour of The Devil Wears Prada’s Louder than thunder.

I’ve lived practically my whole life in search of the perfect lifetime soundtrack. You know when you were just a kid and you’ve just seen the very first installment of The Matrix, you’d then realize that, what if everything in this world is really just pre determined by some binary code? Trust me. I’ve been there too. But my added thought to that delirious mentality of “Mr Smith eats world” is that “Boy, I hope these guy are listening to some sick shit on their audio players right now!”

You see, as previously studied on my 3^rd year in Psychology, music really does influence a person’s general temperament. Take the “emo kids” for example. They listen to The Used, they think about death and then you make them listen to Rebecca Black’s Friday, they still think about death… on a Saturday! Music is literally, life. I mean imagine the early Homo sapiens hunting for the annual mammoth bonfire feast without the necessary chants and hymns for good luck. Or the film “Apocalypse now” without Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries. Music, as the early hippies explain, is the easiest and safest medium for astral transport. This from kids who toke for breakfast, drop acid for lunch and munch on hash brownies for dinner. 

All in all, life is basically a huge playlist. So in celebration of my recently realized motto about life and music, I will be listing 5 very common events of my life this recent year and their corresponding soundtracks: 

• Work-related stress- Under Pressure (Queen)
• Soul-searching/ambition fishing/future wide-eye wondering – Still Haven’t found what I’m looking for (U2)
• Impending summer – We all roll along (The Maine)
• Looking back./missing friends/those carefree days – Here’s to the night (Eve 6)

• Weekends – Live, Don’t just exist (NeverEnding Weekend)

Moonshine hangover...

something I wrote for my boyfriend's band. the brighter side of "drunken escapades".

So we started following where the stars pointed us to go to that night

The whole gang on foot. Beads of sand tickle our soles.

Who could care less?

The moon is our spotlight. The stars, our audience.

This one is for those behind the camera.

A shot of cheap cocktail and nacho salsa.

The only thing we should forget this night, is the number of failures we’ve made.

Here’s to the years that came and gone.

To the band of brothers and sisters , we are the stars that shine on.

We live across borders, our voices the same.

Though different our faces, we are called the same name.

So raise your glasses and welcome to the night.

Tomorrow we wake up to the sound of our delight.

Play our symphony shout our songs

We live in a world where heartbeats are louder than gongs

The kids around the block will sing our lyrics

They will pass it on like wild fire roaring:

“Our spark is the light. Our light will live on. Though different our faces. Our maker is one.”

So we drink for this night. We drink for tomorrow.

For failures we’ve made, we live not for sorrow.

So friends and foes, we come as one.

Our moonshine hangover has just begun.

How does Cesar Millan do it?

The show must have been getting exceptionally positive reviews because it's on its fifth season now. Yes, "The Dog Whisperer", perhaps the only show on cable television showcasing one full hour (sometimes on back to back marathons) of literally, "dog eating world".  I've never really been a big fan of dogs (since I was obliviously chased by one when I was a kid) but who in the right mind would want to be trained as a pack leader to mutts rather than just training the dog itself?! Apparently, A LOT! And this from the very fact that Millan's 5 published books have all been best sellers and not to mention, his show is on NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC CHANNEL! Perhaps I should give the man credit, eh? Well deserved fame, indeed!

This entry is especially dedicated to the minority of the general population who, excuse my lack of euphemism, dread dogs. Yes, dread. Or perhaps in a subtle sense, fear. Yes, this one is for those who fear dogs that no matter how cute or cuddly or harmless this genus (presumably) is, they will always be the primary cause of adrenalin surge during inter-genera contact. So here, I've listed three very simple ways to channel every dog-fearing coward's inner Cesar Millan:

1. Apparently in this side of the coin, being the "pack leader" means, "pack up and avoid encounter"... with the necessary swag, of course. If you're a female and you choose otherwise, it's always the perfect time to hold onto to that guy's arm. If you're a guy... then don't choose otherwise... unless you're on the pinker side of the gender's color spectrum then it's also the perfect time to...
2. "Tsk"! Yes, that seemingly 3-letter hymn of authority followed by that sudden gesture of the palm/hand is very much useful. Especially to that caged Shih Tzu in your cousin's house. The same dog who practically fears every breathing creature who approaches its cage. Hey, practice makes perfect!
3. Faking courage NEVER WORKS! Trust me. You know that common belief that dogs can smell fear? Well apparently, so can cockroaches! So in conclusion, get over [it!] the fear. Yes, that is very easy to say but there's always no harm in trying. Buy a dog or pat your neighbor's pet Pitbull. You'll get the hang of it eventually... or you may lose a whole fist but at least you've conquered your irrational fear of the universally awarded "man's best friend". 

All in all, I guess I somehow got the gist of Millan's whole "Pack leader" mentality. Dogs are thinking beings, primarily driven by instinct so whether they'd be aggressive, friendly, or plain and simple, just being dogs, they'll always be, primordially, man's best companion. And just like any other companion, they do not solely live to serve, they basically live to accompany.

And although I would probably live my whole life in fear of them, I will always, always live by the very principle that :

To err is human. To forgive, is canine.

... perhaps in that very sense, they're more human than us. *shrug

The closest I could get to a pet dog. "Dogdog".  And yes, if I'm in love with a mere replica, then there's no doubt I'd feel the same for the real deal.