long overdue

I'm a fan of music—but I'm a bigger fan of musicians who don't compromise their melody for fame or money. Sure, it'd be hypocritical to say that earning money from something-that-is-basically-a-hobby wouldn't be great, but really, should it be the end-all and be-all of every local Pinoy band? And just when the ewww-inducing-perpetually-muscle-shirt-wearing-totally-irritable-inexplicably-popular Cueshe is about to obliterate my senses with their tasteless (granted, relative) lame excuse for songs, I met Locks of Samson.

"We're part of Musicians for Peace, a cause-oriented music org in Polytechnic University of the Philippines. It is dedicated for struggling musicians like us, who create music for social change, not profit."

Wow, I thought, how noble. This I gathered from their 20-something vocalist, Amiel. There I was, the "white-collar" chick, feeling humble and envious at the same time of a kid who probably hasn't enjoyed "real earnings" from his choice of career. Perhaps I saw the 20-year-old me in him—idealistic, but proud and happy. Focused in the sense that he knows what he wants for the band—and that is to create music that will spew awareness about the problems of this country and empower the society to unite. And me? Let's just say, I used to have the same goal—maybe not as profound as Locks of Samson's—but as upfront, honest: to write about things that people can relate to... compose stories that people actually read and hopefully find entertaining. But enough about me already!These kids are braving the unpredictable world of music the only way they know how: by creating chords for a cause—and they're doing it great... which makes me really proud to have met them.

They say "there are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." At this point, I choose to be the mirror—and I present to you Locks of Samson.

Members Vocals: Amiel * Drums: Wilson * Percussion: Tem & DJ * Rhythm Guitar: JP * Lead Guitar: RA * Bass Guitar: JV Music Reggae ("Never mind the genre, focus on the message!") Gigs Overpass and Underpass bridges around the Metro Shout-outs Domeng, MP, Jen and Agnes

I met Locks of Samson at AUDIO LOKAH, the ONLY band rehearsal studio that offers AFFORDABILITY notwithstanding top-of-the-line equipment and instruments with brands, such as Pignose, Fender, Pearl, etc. Audio Lokah is located at 2nd floor ARLE Building 145 Aurora Blvd corner J. Ruiz St., San Juan, Metro Manila. For inquiries, call 745.8777 or send SMS to 0916.524.9372 or 0918.566.3886.

you got SPAM

PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO ANSWER OUR SURVEY

i did. and my life hasn't been the same ever since.

now, i get character-changing emails like 10 minute abs (no time? no problem!) and soul-enriching editorials like Are Healthy Foods Making You Fat? or 3 Steps to a Better Butt.

sweet. NOT!

i know the concept of "over-communication," i live and breathe press releases. but these? you’ve got to be kidding me!

Your SacramentoRecruiter.com job agent - 02.25.06 Delete Nickey has updated her Friendster Blog Who the fuck is Nickey??? Delete Final Days - $5 CD Blowout Sale Delete Thinner or Smarter Shocking Survey Reveals... Hmmm... NO, LoLa, YOU WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO NAIVETE! You should know better! Delete

… and so goes my Sunday morning. Yes, I need a man. FAST.

old school

i'm not new to this. blogging, i mean...

you know, when i opened the computer, i had stuff to say... now, my mind's a total blank... oh, well.

here's one of my all-time fave blog entries

i complete me

A direct contradiction to the famous (but sappy) line, “you complete me,” from the popular pre-Katie Holmes Tom Cruise flick, Jerry Maguire, the above title is the new thought-provoking slogan of a Pinoy clothesline for women.

i bare. i seek cover. i make mistakes. i recover. i complete me.

Wow. Finally, a clothing line that promotes something more than fashion! Self-worth. Something often undervalued, underrated, taken for granted…

One minute everything seems perfect. Coming across your true love. Landing THE dream job. Finding the perfect pair of shoes. Then the next minute everything falls apart like in that cartoon where a ton of bricks plunges unto Wyle Coyote’s head. You discover true love is fictional… that your job is a joke… and the perfect shoes don’t go with any of your bags. Then you get depressed. Manic even. You have this imaginary list that you show your imaginary god every night: Please make me happy. I want the following:

• my soulmate • a higher-paying job • and while you’re at it, please let there be a midnight sale where I can buy the perfect pair of shoes

And you get what you asked for. Except it didn’t satiate that void. It felt… nothing. Just nothing. And you think:

i ache. i feel shitty. i drink. i feel empty. i don’t complete me.

Then you start to do every kind of stuff imaginable just to fill that empty space seemingly situated right in the middle of your chest. You try speed dating. You apply for another job. You rummage around the mall for the perfect bag to match your perfect pair of shoes. When will it be me? You ask yourself. How come everyone else is getting lucky? And you burden yourself with a million questions more; then you relentlessly quest for that someone or something that would make you feel what you’ve always yearned for – HAPPINESS. And it’s a vicious cycle, this roller-coaster ride. And by worrying yourself over things that only fate can answer, you miss out on the fun. You fail to benefit from the feeling of BEING ALIVE! Then your friends give you what they offer best – a good kick in the ass and a hard slap on the face. As my sporadic-Catholic friend once said, “God did not put you on this planet to WORRY!” And throughout the succession of depression and self-pity, you overlook the one true thing that is actually of importance. Yourself. Then, little by little, you learn to internalize the maxim, “you can never truly love anything else, until you learn to love yourself.” Self-worth. Then you smile. And have fun. And maybe come up with your own slogan. Maybe something like:

i hurt. i falter. i learn. i matter. i complete me.

liked it? check out some of my previous blog entries here.

pukengkeng... an introduction

Pukengkeng is a slang coined from two Tagalog words: puke, which means vagina and kerengkeng, a woman of loose morals.

OK.

I’m not making a very good first impression here.

Let me try this again: Pukengkeng, due to the complex intricacies of the Filipino language, is actually considered amusing. No, I’m not trying to be comical. It’s just that Vagina doesn’t have the oomph that Pukengkeng does.

And the Tagalog name gives me a sense of recognition and pride–Pinoy yata ‘to!

Proud as I am of my Filipino heritage, I have to admit, some of the customs perplex me—foremost is, why using Tagalog words that concern sex—from the act itself to the genitalia—considered as taboo. Have you noticed how self-conscious we get when we actually put into words anything that pertains to sex? Everything is reduced to ano or its spin-off of sorts, kwan.

(Babysitter to employer) Ate, Junior’s kwan is throbbing—an insect may have bitten him there when we went outside to play.

Why is it that we, Filipinos in general, flinch from or completely shun saying words like pekpek (vagina), tite (penis), suso (breast) or kantutan (sexual intercourse) and mention the English counterpart freely? I mean, not even the local TV regulatory board would censor the word “sex” but would likely cancel a show because of the word “kantutan”!

By doing random queries on this topic, I was able to find very interesting theories:

1. Filipinos are basically conservative—anything that pertains to sex should be discussed behind closed doors. Conservative or hypocritical?

2. The English language is universal—ergo, not likely to scandalize or be considered dirty. Because if you find the universal language vulgar, then how else can people communicate?Universal or bland?

3. The Filipino language is graphic, picturesque and passionate. If the Tagalog dialect is compared to a person, it is someone lusty. I agree.

Without doubt, the Filipino language is dynamic—creative even. Comical jargons that are easy on the ears (or on the heart of the old-fashioned) were borne to somehow liberate Pinoys from this language barrier. Some of these lingo are: pukengkeng and pepe (vagina); etits and tarugo (penis); dede (breast); tonting (sex, sexual intercourse); KTR (a guy oozing with sex appeal), etc.

Now a thought just struck me, what if we translate in Tagalog re-runs of Sex in the City like we do those Korean, Chinese, and Latin soap operas—it would be Kantutan sa Syodad. Hmm. Pangit nga naman. It just doesn’t sound right, does it?

... and i heart him

Cringe.

I know. I’m supposed to be “bleak” – my day should always be dark, where “it is perpetually raining and the atmosphere is very gloomy.” Yes, I’m quoting that-psychic-dude-who-thinks-he’s-Serj-or-maybe-even-god. (read here)

 

OK, back to me.

What can I say?

This.feeling.is… exquisite. (read with wonderment… almost robotic, and you’ll get the milieu I’m in.)

Nearly heavenly.

And to describe him – ah, sigh-inducing, toe-curling, just plain – dare I say it? – orga… nic. Yesss… organic. Natural – uhm, you know, raw – very rugged. Yeah, that’s it – rugged. (organic = rugged? pwede na yun!)

Yeah, well, I saw him the other night. Boy, was he spanking! I gotta give it to the guy up there, he really did a great job on this one… alluring eyes, generous mouth, teasing smile, perfect skin – well, the kind that I think is perfect for a man – smooth, but not gay-ish…

And he’s so much fun, too! I mean, the guy’s an energizer bunny – no, not that kind – I mean, he’s totally un-boring (is there such a word?) Anyway, the whole night, all he did was make me happy, especially with his singing – yes, he sings!

And that night, he sang to me – and to at least over 200 other girls…

Yep, this one is sooo like the telenovelas we all love (c’mon, admit it, you went home early for the final episode of ONLY YOU and cried when TJ turned his back on the family fortune just so he could be with his eternally-teary-eyed jowa, Gillian)! crash. there goes my rep

The scenes were sporadic.

Me buying ticket.
Me having my peppermint spray confiscated by dagul-looking-goon-like-guard.
Me looking for “strategic” site.
Me getting tapped on the shoulder by lanky, almost-gaunt student-guard for smoking.
Me telling kid guard to kiss my arse or I’ll kick his.
Me getting that Children-of-the-corn-like feel as other student-guards gave me dirty looks.
Me screaming with skinny-tank-top-sporting-lip-pouting-15-year-old girls.
Me despising my-now-late-20s-self for being in a school fair to watch a band.
Me being consoled by my also-feeling-teenager-friends.
Me trying to grab the to-die-for songster’s… microphone.
Me laughing out loud.
Me bobbing my head.
Me screaming with skinny-tank-top-sporting-lip-pouting-15-year-old girls.
Me despising my-now-late-20s-self for being in a school fair to watch a band.
Me being consoled by my also-feeling-teenager-friends.
Me trying to grab the to-die-for songster’s… microphone.
Me laughing out loud.
Me bobbing my head.

Basta, mixed emotions! (huh? Ano daw? Ang gulo!) Diba parang telenovela?!

Uhm, no, I didn’t snort anything illegal today.

After the concert, (er, yes, in a school fair) I was… smiling.

Hey, I actually had FUN! (picture clapping, hop-skipping, wide-eyed, little girls with pigtails – at least that’s how I imagine HAPPINESS.)

Feeling exorbitantly delighted, I gave myself a literal pat on the back (with my friends eyeing me disbelievingly) for laying off the snooty-brat persona and going to the elementary school fair of Don Bosco Mandaluyong to watch Bamboo… man, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is!

… and as I was walking away from the school grounds, I only had ONE solid thought in mind: “Hayup na guard yun, ‘di isinoli yung peppermint spray ko!”

Talk about being "introspective and deep."

Why Don't You Ask the Kids from Tiananmen Square?

Note: this is a write-up by an officemate that was posted in the company online newsletter where I also posted “I complete me” and “on pre-emptive messages…” under the nom de plume, Lola.

 

Writers are like songs. On the extreme, they are either the happy discordant nature of Franz Ferdinand or the infinite sadness of Mochiba.

Kira and Lola sound like Seattle’s Grunge Bands. They are introspective and deep. But as compelling and proficient as they can become, they are also bleak and cynical. Seattle ushered the grunge sound of the 90’s, giving birth to Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots. Seattle is the physiological choice as the birthplace of grunge primarily because of the weather. It is perpetually raining and the atmosphere is very gloomy.

Meanwhile we have Rizal, Yuri, Ely, etc. They are our present novelty songs. If you are familiar with Lito Camo and other pop songs of recent, then you know what I mean. These songs are based on current tastes, relevant, radio-friendly and have the unmistakable mass-appeal.

Music genres naturally differ on topic as much as on how the music is played. Grunge music grinds and groans, hardly repeating chords. It focuses Inward; the self, the pain they are going through, the longing, loathing angst. Novelty pop sings about everyday life; noontime shows, telenovelas, baywalk happenings. The music aims for retention and singability for there is a single chord for the whole song.

Express Yourself is one big radio station catering to eclectic palettes. It’s fun tuning in to this station. The DJ is also kinda cool so it makes making songs that much more enjoyable. Me? I’m that Armenian band System of a Down. So, everybody chill and make your own music.