Saturday, June 23, 2007
The Anti-Me

* idea ripped off from a random forum

I am a successfully established man of substance who makes all the right decisions (read: DISKAAAARTE) and never gets flustered or confused. I know what exactly to say or do in any given situation, all my moves are slick as owlshit. I'm a badass that can hold his own against a fight and can take on anyone, anytime, and anywhere. I'm an asshole who doesn't give a shit that he is one and everyone else is too afraid to point it out. I like talking about basketball, politics and other manly things with my big shot friends who equal my machismo, preferably over 20 cases of beer. We like to gather around and talk about how much we rule and share other grand tales of testosterone.

Additionally, I am also an accomplished musician who excels in guitar and the drums. I belong in a kickass rock band whose songs offer a mix of thought-provoking lyrical content with a smattering of all-around heaviness. I am confident, sociable and outgoing - not to mention hip, young, and fresh. I am a specimen of physical prowess, my stamina is nigh inexhaustible and hardly break a sweat during the most rigorous of sport activities. My preferred look when leaving the house is sporting the biggest pair of aviator shades, a fauxhawk (because a mohawk would be too inconvenient), a shirt with a popped collar, and pre-torn, pseudo faded jeans.

Shows like Heroes and Firefly and The Office are too much for me to handle since it requires some thought to appreciate them so I'd rather watch other people's self-important, manufactured drama which is commonly referred to as reality shows. There's one show in particular that I can't enough of and most of its viewers know nothing about references it makes to the George Orwell book that its namesake is taken from. Nothing passes off for entertainment better than people lying around in a house doing the most inane things conceivable by man.
Thank goodness I don't have to stretch my neck over the neighbor's fence to hear them fight, all I have to is turn on the TV and I can actually see inside another person's house to endlessly scrutinize everything they do since I am the paragon of perfection. And don't forget the babes in the show, nothing like a little T & A to boost viewership eh? Not only are we rubberneckers, we're also voyeurs!
Most importantly, this post makes sense to everyone else but me. There are many other things that define who I am, but they escape me at the moment so this coherent organization of thoughts is far from finished.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Fantastic Four

All in all, F4 was a great popcorn flick since I watched it for the effects and the humor, not for depth or emotional attachment. It had great action sequences loaded with CGI, especially when the Torch did a Peter Petrelli and kicked Doom's butt. Of course he's ambigiously dead yet again, hopefully in store for the third movie (if there will be, but I have a strong feeling there will be).

Effects-wise, they did a pretty good job with Ben's rocky skin. It gave an appearance of a hard yet malleable texture which allowed subtle creases and folds to match the Thing's facial expressions. I was watching The Mask last night, and it just occured to me that Jim Carrey's stretchy legs during his dance number with Cameron Diaz were way more beliveable than Reed's arms during his respective performance. Are dance sequences a new prerequisite for superhero movies? Personally, it should be the opposite and should even be prohibited by international law because they only serve to make me cringe.

There were a few more things I didn't like, with Galactus being on top of the list. I'm the millionth guy to complain about him, but it's not because he was depicted as a giant, swirling cosmic cloud instead of a giant man in purple tights (as in the comics). Rather, it's one particular scene building up to his arrival where he casts a shadow over Saturn. Even casual readers of Marvel will be quick to point out that its shape is undoubetdly that of his (again, comic version) head. Why bother if they weren't going to actually show Galactus as he appeared in the comics? It felt like a slap in the face of the collective fanbase. Was it a cruel joke or were they basically saying "sorry fans, this is the best we could do since we didn't have the time and/or budget"? And what was the point of the Torch paying for airfare if he was gonna fly outside the damn plane (aside from pandering to the Chris Evans fans)?

Wasn't it pretty obvious to the US military that Doom wasn't just going to observe the Silver's Surfer's board? Geez, they were going to accompany him "under armed guard" and didn't see a betrayal coming? Whatever. And what was up with Jessica Alba's orange skin? Her natural tone was fine, were they trying too much to make her look caucasian?

The funniest bits throughout were the scenes with the Thing and the Torch. Being that Johnny's vain, it was pretty hilarious seeing him temporarily switch powers with Ben, rocky but with hair. I also laughed when Ben scared the bear away and told him off after it left. Chris Evans still has the best lines, this time laced with some innuendo (Torch asking Thing about his girlfriend: "So, uh, how do u guys, uh you know..."). The acting between Reed and Sue felt pretty wooden though. What were supposed to be meaningful emotions shared between the couple kinda fell flat.

Otherwise, F4 was really entertaining as a whole and I got what I paid for.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Fancy me getting sick just a bit after my goddamn health card ran out. I'm sure I'll able to cough up the 2 grand that I don't fucking have for a doctor and medication.

That is all.
Sunday, June 03, 2007

I first dreamt that I was taking Dan out of the hospital and needed money, so I picked up Jamir and we drove somewhere. We pulled over because he thought he knew the owner of a nearby parked car. He got down and I followed him after I parked the car. Upon entering the house, it was my mom and sister inside asking me to watch TV. Then I found myself in another dream.

My dad decided to come home and live with my mom again. She was already in the bedroom with him and they were unpacking. But they were in this house (the in-laws), and not our home in Paranaque. My dad said he was going to give me some money which was hidden inside an alarm clock. After that I dreamt I had Peter Petrelli's abilities and was being chased by someone whom I assume was Sylar. I was passing through walls and stopping time to avoid Him. My powers stopped working suddenly right after I teleported somewhere far away. Then I ended up in our home in Paranaque, trying to convince our pediatrician of the things I could do when time suddenly stopped by itself and everything went dark. Feeling scared, I walked across the room alone and tried to turn on the bathroom light to see myself in the mirror. It didn't switch on but I knew it was my reflection.

Finally, I went into the other room and saw my parents tied up in bed. I freed the gag from my Dad's mouth. Lyn and Dan was lying in the next bed. I removed the hankerchief from Lyn's mouth and she said, "si Dan unahin mo, malapit na syang mamatay". So I untied Dan and he smiled wickedly at me, occuring to me then that it was Sylar only pretending. I said "gotcha" and threw him away before he shapeshifted. The sound of the alarm went off in my dream, reminding me that it wasn't real. I was mostly relieved but felt a bit cheated too because the confrontation with my antagonist didn't happen.
Friday, June 01, 2007
It's really useless to explain why Borat sucks (and is just as annoying as Cohen's other character Ali G) because talking about it generates more publicity. Instead, here's a bit of great news I watched today:

Borat gets punched in the face. Repeatedly.

It would be great to see him act like an annoying little twat in the most depressed ghettos of America. Let's see him piss off the gangbangers on the streets, I would pay to see his obnoxious ass get shot. He could make like Bruce Willis in Die Hard 3 and wear a "I hate niggers" sign while walking down the streets of Harlem. Now that's the kind of offensive comedy I would call brilliant. I get the whole social-commentary-slash-getting-bigots-and-chauvinists-to-expose-their-flawed-arguments bit, but I didn't see any of that when he was breaking shit in that eldery couple's shop (and offering a pubic hair as payment) nor when he was purposely being an ignorant and obnoxious asshole on that news show. It felt like he was just after a cheap laugh. The guys from Jackass harass people and it's funny becuase they don't make any pretentions of anything beyond a cheap laugh.