Friday, February 05, 2016

BIG BANG BLUSH

(Note: This is an old post saved as draft from 2014. Posted now because why not?)


Funny where a destinationless train of thought takes you. I was watching TV the other day and learned that Kevin Feige's last name is actually pronounced as "fai-gee" and not "feyj" as i previously assumed. But I told myself, (not out loud, of course. just a whisper) it's okay, the mistake is understandable since Feige has the same last four letters as beige. Unless beige is pronounced as "bai-gee".

Anyway, so for the sole reason of just because, I googled beige. And found out that a certain shade of that color is the average color of the universe. Some astronomy dudes surveyed the color of all light in the universe (including 200,000 galaxies) and ended up with a beigeish white hue. When it was displayed on a newspaper article, readers sent in suggestions for a name and they went with "cosmic latte". Some of the other entries were skyvory, univeige, this blog's title, and primordial clam chowder (which I think should have won).

Tuesday, February 02, 2016

SPEAKING OF NOW

Hello, stranger.

That greeting is actually not just for you, dear reader, but also for me, dire writer, so welcome back to both of us. I'd prefer not to waste time and pixels addressing the whys and wherefores of my inactivity and instead focus on getting this blog back up and running. Again. For the eleventeenth time.



Two things: I made a quick redesign, nothing too fancy, and I imported a bunch of posts from my other blogs, which by the way were quite surprising as I could not remember writing some of them at all. I even took some phrases and googled them, flanked by quotation marks, to make sure they were truly mine and not lifted from somewhere else (good news: mine!). Also, I've decided to write my posts the way an educated adult should and quit emulating E.E. Cummings.

Speaking of, I'm going to be a father again! Of a baby boy this time, which is just whoawesomazing. Yes, that's whoa, awesome, and amazing in one word because that's how I feel about it. Especially since my wife and I have been trying for so long. I wanted him to be born in 2013 (because duh) but I guess the financial crisis caused massive stork layoffs and delayed the delivery of our son to April of this year, which is peachy fine. Really. It's not like time seems to go slower when you wait for something. It's only three more months, no biggie. I very patient.

Speaking of, during Jeean's third checkup, my heart twerked when we heard the little human's heartbeat for the first time and I had to control myself from RKOing the nurse and yelling, "Science, bitch!". Then, a few months later, when OB/GYN Kenobi pointed an arrow to our son's tallywacker on the ultrasound screen, I shook my fists in the air and screamed in victory as I saw our future together projected onto the inner walls of my skull: my wife and I playing Final Fantasy VII Remake on the PS5; Iaine and her little brother washing the dishes.

Oh, and Iaine, who is as excited, if not more, as I am, is turning six this week. She's grown so fast. Feels like it was only yesterday when I dropped her off to school and told her to do well in her exams. Wait. That was actually yesterday. What day is it today? Anyways, those six long years mean I have basically unlearned all the baby care skills I mastered when Iaine was still small. However, I fear not the slumberless nights for I know that when the epic newborn is thrust into this dimension, I shall regain all that power and conquer the realm of second-time fatherhood. So bring on the poop!

One more thing I seem to have unlearned: properly ending blog posts. So bye?



P.S. That is the first and the last time I will use the word that starts with T and means "shake your butt like shit is stuck."
P.P.S. My wife's OB/GYN is not really named Kenobi.
P.P.P.S. Is it the third week of April yet? Please be the third week of April when I wake up tomorrow.
P.P.P.P.S. Actually, please be April after Iaine's birthday. Sorry, Iaine.


Sunday, January 03, 2016

UP DARNA DOWN

Apparently, there's a teaser trailer for the new Darna movie playing in front of some MMFF films. I tried to watch the bootleg recording on Facebook and further degraded my eyesight trying to figure out what was going on. Anyways, I've had a Darna remake idea in my head for so long but never really got around to writing it. Since the possibility of me being a part of the 2016 film is absolute zero, here's roughly the first 15 minutes of my Darna pitch, which is a sequel, a remake, and a reboot all rolled into one.

Darna Concept Art by madbox86 

1980. After a grueling battle, Darna defeats Valentina and is about to give the final blow. Valentina pleads for her life. With Darna's guard down, Valentina bites her on the neck, injecting a paralyzing, slow-acting venom. Darna kills Valentina then falls to the ground.

1996. After years of suffering (both healthwise and from being unable to help people in need), Narda dies. In the next room, Ding's wife (let's call her Maria) gives birth to a baby girl. They name her Narda, of course. Ding (now a cop) trains Narda how to fight as she grows up, against Maria's wishes. 10 years later, Ding Jr. is born, who also undergoes training.

2016. An underground cult worshiping Valentina is formed, believing that Reptilians are the true owners of the world. The cult leader's son, Vladimir, kills a family who left the cult and burns the condominium.

Narda graduates college and her father promises to give her the best gift that day. On the way home, the family sees the burning building. The ever heroic Ding immediately goes to help. Narda follows. The building explodes. In the hospital, Ding dies after telling Maria to give the "bato" to Narda. Narda is in a coma. In her dream, Narda sees her aunt and is told about her destiny.

Narda wakes up a week later and is devastated by the news. Ding is buried. Narda is temporarily in crutches. Now living at the topmost floor of an old apartment building, Narda watches through her window several petty crimes happen outside. Maria sees this but still hides the bato from her.

A bank robbery is on the news. Narda wants to watch the TV but her mother insists she stay in bed. Ding Jr. sees that the getaway van being chased by police car is headed somewhere familiar. The getaway van stops at a dead end. The gang leader looks around and sees the old apartment building. He calls for a helicopter. The crooks enter the building. When they reach the topmost floor, the leader is told the the chopper will take a while. As the cops go into the building, the crooks fire at them from above. The leader tries to break the door to one of the apartments.

Fearing for their lives, Maria tells Narda her father's dying message and gives her the bato, telling her to swallow it and shout Darna. Narda remembers her dream but before she could put it in her mouth, the gang leader breaks into the apartment and takes them hostage.

The leader tells the cops to back off or he will kill the family. The leader is then told that the chopper is almost there. He tells one of his men to take the boy with them just in case. A struggle ensues. Maria is kicked to the ground. Narda is thrown through the window. She loses her grip on the bato. She catches it with the other hand. She puts it in her mouth. She swallows. She shouts "Darna!" She falls to the ground... and three-point lands as Darna.


P.S. Post title doesn't mean I'm a fan of the local band. Just thought it sounded nice. Maybe they could provide the theme song, I don't know.
P.P.S. The attached concept art is the closest one I could find to the one I had in mind. Except I don't like the helmet and I want the updated Darna to have straight hair instead.
P.P.P.S. I think Sarah Geronimo should be the new Narda/Darna. She can do the role duality, she has the fan base, and she can sing the theme song herself. Maja Salvador is a close second.
P.P.P.P.S. My idea was, the Darna would then be followed by a new Captain Barbell film, then Lastikman. Then, a Sanlakas movie with all three of them with an endtag tease for Jesebel.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

boredom becomes him

the disadvantage of being fast: having nothing else to do. well, of course, i could do even more than im supposed to do but that would amount to nothing because in this corner of corporate hell, twice the effort has the same value as half of it. and so, here i am, watching the network icon blink on the system tray, making right-click squares on the desktop and wishing for one of my coworkers to self combust as i succumb to the slow and painful death by boredom.

there's this thing on reddit about people you hate hanging out with. one guy says he doesn't like people who have the same interests he has but can do them better. i actually hate even more the opposite of that, people who are into the same things you're into but you know you can do better. especially when you know they're into it only for fad's sake and/or because they have money. i hate even more those people who say, just follow your dreams. fuck you. i cannot "just do it". i cannot just get out of this chair, teleport to abs-cbn and start pitching shows and movies to the guard on duty (because that's as far as i'm gonna get). nike's slogan does not work in a country where you're not worth a peep if you do not have a famous relative, a powerful backer, or lots and lots of money.

no one takes risks on a nobody, no matter how great you are. the reason? ever watched reality talent shows where someone acts like they're the best there is and then turn out to be a total moron? the people in charge do not want to waste time on people like that. so they just won't give you any attention for personal claims of superiority alone. which sucks for those who really are as great as they would claim to be.

i dont think i'm that awesome. but i believe i have awesome ideas that studio execs need to hear. and i always have internal apocalypse whenever i see the crappiest of crap get funded and then fail to make a profit.

i am so bored.

Monday, March 25, 2013

short story: ?

i know i said i'd be making alphabetical posts but i just had a dream where i was told to write a short story. i wrote it on a little notebook while trying to find a place to sit down. i immediately woke up the moment i finished it and so i thought i had to type it up (which i now think is a mistake because i should have waited for my dream self to come up with a title for it). this is, as far as i remember, exactly what i wrote in my dream:

I could be naked right now and it wouldn't cause a stir for I am surrounded by robots. They look human but they soldier on through this torturous job without a complaint every single day so they must be mechanical. I listen to the cacophony of keyboards a-clicking/pounding and think to myself: I am in hell.

I walk to my car. I open the door and I see from the corner of my eye something small run behind the car. I go and look but there's nothing there. I see something on the ground, a short line of black dots. I bend down to check closer... and almost fall backwards when I found out what they really are: shoe prints.

I hear it laugh the tiniest laugh I have ever heard. I turn and catch a glimpse of it climbing into the tailpipe. I peer into the tailpipe and could see the outline of the small man, just sitting there, laughing at me, taunting me. I quickly jump into the car, turn the ignition on and rev the engine. I keep kicking the pedal until I could barely see through the black smoke. I turn the engine off and hurry to the back of my car.

I hear it coughing and wheezing inside the tailpipe. The small man crawls out and falls to the ground. I pick him up and see a one-inch version of me dying in my palm.

I am in hell.

Monday, January 28, 2013

argument against alighieri (A)


afterlife: i just finished watching a film (won't say the title for spoilery reasons) wherein a character dies but appears in a scene in the end. now i've always doubted the existence of an afterlife but after seeing that, the chance of me believing in life after death has become microscopic. we've been told that when you die, you either go to heaven or hell, depending upon how you lived your life. that idea alone is sketchy. what if you've been good your whole life then did one bad thing and died before you could ask for forgiveness? or what if you've been bad your whole life but managed to ask for forgiveness for your evil ways just before you die? also, isn't it suicide when you know you're going to die but you risk your life anyway to save someone else's life?

and don't give me the purgatory thing. that's an even bigger nonsense than the concept of heaven and hell. it's like, dude, you gotta wait here until we're done reviewing your case. see, you've been such a do-gooder but you masturbate a lot and we don't like that here so we're weighing the amount of good deeds you've done against that number of times you pleasured yourself. and what do you know, good deeds beat masturbation by one point. all we need now is to get at least 100 people to pray for your soul to gain access to heaven. we're at 99 and the last one, your ex, has just knelt down to pray for you. if she finishes her prayer, you're good to go. oops, she was just going to give a guy a blowjob. sorry. off to hell with you, you despicably nefarious miscreant!

but the one i recently realized, thanks to that particular film, is that your afterlife self is supposed to look like yourself when you die. not exactly at the moment of your death (because, you know, everything is beautiful in heaven and there can't be anyone who has burnt skin, a decapitated head or spilling insides even if they died that way) but your best looking appearance just before. but what if you've had long hair all your life and you suddenly decided to go bald, and then you die, will your afterlife self be bald? if you died wearing nothing, will your afterlife self be naked? if not, what criteria does the afterlife use to choose your eternal uniform? if a guy dies while wearing a jollibee costume, will he enter heaven as jollibee? will we all suddenly have white togas when we die? if a person is born with physical defects, will they have the same physical defects in the after life? if not, why were they even allowed to be born with those defects then?

these are serious escathological questions by the way. im pretty sure religious fundies have multiple-bible-interpretation, dodge-the-real-issue answers for these questions. that or they'll just ignore it. i really hate it when anyone dismisses questions due to their faith. it's not even a test of faith. it's about fully understanding what you believe in. but i guess "understanding" isn't part of having faith. you just drink the kool-aid and ignore why it tastes like cyanide.

p.s. everytime there's an exception to a rule, i think there should be no rule.
p.p.s. anyone who puts "leave everything to god" as facebook statuses should start walking around, crossing streets with their eyes closed.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

a blog challenge


so i dreamt i was back in high school... again. the quirk this time is i had my young high school body. i know this because i saw myself in a mirror. i looked at a mirror because we were supposed to present something in costume. and for some reason, mine was the phantom of the opera. so i saw my high school self putting on the white mask in front of a mirror.

anyhow, in the classroom we were told to present alphabetically. that's when i thought of a cure for this blog's content drought: alphabetically topicked posts! dont know if anyone has done this but im going to attempt it anyway for the sake of my make-believe avid readers.

p.s. storytime! back in real life high school, during a foundation celebration, i got caught in one of those stupid jail booths. the deal was i had to stay in their makeshift cell for 30 minutes or choose one of two bail options: a) pay 10 bucks, or b) recite the alphabet backwards. unbeknownst to them, a) i was a cheapskate, and b) i could actually sing the alphabet song in reverse. i did so and nonchalantly left them perplexed. which was, in retrospect, badass and lame at the same time.