The Lapdog

In the early days, when not a single colored TV could be seen in our living room; when we used to stand over a stool, cling our small hands on to the neighbor's grilled window and gawk, like a starved puppy for god knows how long while the kids in front of the boob tube play Nintendo Family Computer and then suddenly shut the wooden jalousies tight when a multitude of kids gather to watch as Super Mario stomps monsters to save an abducted princess, and start a ruckus over a tiny space to have a good view of the game being played, we learn some bitter truths about power structures surrounding a juvenile act of game watching.

The crowd dissipates and everything returns to normal. The windows shut tight earlier are opened and a few minutes later, kids from the surrounding houses would once again gather around the tiny opening to take a peek as tanks hit each other with pea-sized bullet in the game called Battle City. This time however, the power structures have changed. Aside from the kids playing the video game, there were those invited inside the house to act as intermediary between those watching outside and those who held the game pad. The most loyal of these intermediaries, in a strike of luck maybe allowed to play a game or two depending on the whims of the Nintendo owners, while some of those gaping outside maybe invited in, depending on his ability to sway over an intermediary to his side.

As the game continues, the intermediaries would change according to those called home and the new ones invited in. When the kids' parents show up in the living room, finding a multitude of grimy street urchins seated on the floor, (and sometimes hugging an alpombra around their skinny arms) the hierarchy would immediately be broken, the wooden jalousies shut tight again, and the kids holding the game pads will be forced to switch off the computer as the parents settle down to watch the evening news.

Those of us left outside would gather in our little clusters and talk about the game we have seen until the kids who own the game console show up and interrupt our conversation. Of course, they would receive a heroes' welcome in our narrow alley, hoping that those who made the best impression would be invited over when the kids decide to play the game next time.

It sucks to be drawn into the order, but as a kid who never had the material wealth of those of our neighbors had, to swallow the truth was far better than pretending having the power.

No wonder, the recent controversy surrounding Chip Tsao and his recent article about us being a nation of servants didn't bother me at all.

Because we are a proud nation of servants.

---

The Russians sank a Hong Kong freighter last month, killing the seven Chinese seamen onboard. We can live with that-—Lenin and Stalin were once the ideological mentors of all Chinese people. The Japanese planted a flag on Diàoyú Island. That's no big problem-—we Hong Kong Chinese love Japanese cartoons, Hello Kitty, and shopping in Shinjuku, let alone our round-the-clock obsession with karaoke.

But hold on-—even the Filipinos? Manila has just claimed sovereignty over the scattered rocks in the South China Sea called the Spratly Islands, complete with a blatant threat from its congress to send gunboats to the South China Sea to defend the islands from China if necessary. This is beyond reproach. The reason: There are more than 130,000 Filipina maids working as US$3,580-a-month cheap labor in Hong Kong. As a nation of servants, you don't flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter.

As a patriotic Chinese man, the news has made my blood boil. I summoned Louisa, my domestic assistant who holds a degree in international politics from the University of Manila, hung a map on the wall, and gave her a harsh lecture. I sternly warned her that if she wants her wages increased next year, she had better tell everyone of her compatriots in Statue Square on Sunday that the entirety of the Spratly Islands belongs to China.

Grimly, I told her that if war breaks out between the Philippines and China, I would have to end her employment and send her straight home, because I would not risk the crime of treason for sponsoring an enemy of the state by paying her to wash my toilet and clean my windows 16 hours a day. With that money, she would pay taxes to her Government, and they would fund a navy to invade our motherland and deeply hurt my feelings.

Oh yes. The Government of the Philippines would certainly be wrong if they think we Chinese are prepared to swallow their insult and sit back and lose a Falkland Islands War in the Far East. They may have Barack Obama and the hawkish American military behind them, but we have a hostage in each of our homes in the Mid-Levels or higher. Some of my friends told me they have already declared a state of emergency at home. Their maids have been made to shout 'China, Madam/Sir' loudly whenever they hear the word "Spratly". They say the indoctrination is working as wonderfully as when we used to shout, "Long live Chairman Mao!" at the sight of a portrait of our Great Leader during the Cultural Revolution. I’m not sure if that's going a bit too far, at least for the time being.

---

Let's look back at history and recall how things were in Hong Kong before Beijing took over more than a decade ago:

Hong Kong was, for a long time a crown territory of the British. It knew no struggles, save for a brief Japanese Occupation during World War 2. It was safely harnessed under the cloak of the British Empire while its neighbor China endured humiliations from the Japanese. No History geek would ever forget the Rape of Nanking and the Invasion of Manchuria. After Mao held sway over the Mainland 50 years ago, an uneasy peace existed between Soviet Union and China. Both were Socialists countries, and rivaled for spheres of influences around the world

There were several occasions when their bitter rivalry drew both nations to the brink of war.

Spratlys Islands are a group of outcropped rocks surrounded by the vast South China Sea. No sane Philippine Government would dare claim the entire territory for the country lest we are ready to face the ire of the entire region. For one, we never have Frigates to begin with, much more, we dont' have Fighter Jets to protect our skies. And our army - deployed down south, combing the jungles of Sulu for Red Cross Volunteers abducted (and threatened to be beheaded) by grimy Abu Sayaff bandits.

Most Chinese living in Hong Kong feel little about their homeland. The same is true with the Chinese living in Macao and Taiwan. It's a shame to learn that for someone as old as Chip Tsao, he knows little about the things he wrote, and for those of us, whose egos were scarred because of a lame piece of work - which his overlords in Beijing would never bother to read - especially coming from a territory they eye with suspicion for its Democratic leanings, I find the analogy of my childhood forthcoming.

---

I imagine Chip Tsao being a lapdog; a famished, ugly Shih Tzu barking over some breadcrumbs scattered on the floor as its master, unmindful of the barks continues to cast its gaze over the horizon - over Paris Hilton - whose Chihuahua responds with the same loud barking sounds after hearing a fellow lapdog in the distance.

Avenida: The Manila COD Interludes

After J. Dalisay Jr.

---

I think I was eight or nine years old when my mother and I would scour the entire stretch of Avenida in search for a great bargain. Sometimes, we would go there to buy some groceries or just do window shopping, especially when times were difficult and budget was tight.

She would pick me up at around 7 in the evening coming from her day-long teaching job at a state university. We would take a short jeep ride from our house in Santa Mesa to the fringes of Recto, and then ride another jeepney going towards the direction of Carriedo.

I remember, she would always sit beside the driver (and sometimes even asking the man in front to surrender his seat and ride at the back) for she can't lift her feet up the steps at the rear entry of the passenger vehicle. She's disabled since birth and her feet were limited to cover just a few blocks when used for walking.

The jeep would drop us off at Uniwide Sales Club just below the LRT Carriedo Station, where mom would buy a few items to fill our small provisions cabinet: Laundry soaps, toiletries like Pepsodent toothpaste and Tender Care Bath soap, and several canned goods (which include Maggie Chicken Noodles, 555 Tomato Sardines and Hunt's Pork and Beans). After roaming the aisles for a few hours, off we head to the cashier section to pay our goods. Mother would sometimes pay in cash, but often, use her gift cheques acquired from salary swapping in school.

We would leave the supermarket just in time for the closing. Since there's no use competing with other bystanders waiting to get a ride home, mom would limp her way back to Recto, clutching her bag of groceries on her left hand, while holding mine on another. When time was free. Goodwill Bookstore served as our pit stop and resting grounds before trudging again the barely lit sidewalks of Avenida.

When inside the bookstore, mom would set her eyes on the stack of books marked as SALE. She would pick one, browse its contents while letting me check out the coloring booklets and animal-themed domino sets not far from where she stood. We were just there for the window shopping, however, when we find ourselves in front of the already closed bookstore, we move on and rest our feet at the nearby Manila COD Department Store instead.

Manila COD sat next to Madison Department Store. Both stores sold clothes, shoes and household items at discounted prices. I could not recall if these thrift shops had any distinction that would set them apart, but both stores had a profound impact which still make ripples when it comes to my buying habits.

One night, a few minutes before closing time, mom and I entered Manila COD. She immediately went to the household items area while I ran towards the toys section to check for new die-cast miniature cars on display. It was never my habit to hold my mom hostage when I like something so much, but when I found one die-cast toy car impossible to resist, I resolved to hold my ground until mom gives in.

And so I made it a point to get noticed - not by crying like some brats do - but by pressing my head against the glass window and ignoring her calls for us to leave. I stayed in that position until mom, asked these few questions which still echoes whenever I find myself deadlocked when buying expensive stuffs nowadays.

"Kailangang kailangan mo ba yan anak?"

"Hindi ba puwedeng ipostpone yan?"

"Anong kapalit na gagawin mo kapag binili ko ito?"

One would get tempted to say that I was conditioned to consider everything first before acquiring toys at a young age. It maybe viewed as repression on my part but as I grew older, I learned to appreciate the lessons mother tried to teach me. In truth, we could not afford indulging ourselves with material gains, but rather than let my unprepared ears hear what she had to imply, mom applied psychology to let me see things her way.

With much prodding from the salesladies who surrounded us, (for the store was already closed and they were probably itching to go home) mom gave up and bought the Fuchsia Toyota Crown which I had set my eyes on since arriving there that evening. Because she spent the budget set for our dinner for my new toy car, she resisted the urge to stop at Stateside Burger for us to grab something to eat.

Our stomachs were empty when we arrived home at past midnight.

---

Avenida is dying. The old nooks of my childhood - the sundry movie houses showing the latest films; the thrift shops that lined the street; and even the Stateside Burger Joint at the corner of Recto and Avenida are now gone. Save for Madison's Department Store, whose passing is as imminent as its geriatric Tsinoy captain and its crew of aged salesladies, what is left of Avenida are rows and rows of Ukay-ukay stores, cellphone repair shops, a couple of motels and a handful of seedy beer houses which have already turned the strip into a derelict.

I do not know if an urban renewal plan could turn the place around, but as I passed by the same sidewalk this evening on my way home, I cannot help but trace back the steps which my mom and I used to tread during our bonding nights. Amidst the cigarette vendors, low - key prostitutes and vagrants of all lore, I was busy recollecting my thoughts to re-imagine the Avenida that was.

The Manila COD Diaries (First Part)

Notes written for on-the-job training documentation purposes. Original notebook still survives.

Wordings and tenses modified to improve the clarity of each entry.

---

Monday. November 24, 1997

"Today we went to Manila COD to attend the orientation. There were around 10 of us from my batch and the speaker talked endlessly about using the time card, the rules and regulations of the company, the allowance we will receive at the end of our duty and the control gate where we need to show up first and be frisked before reporting to our respective departments within the store premises..."

Sunday. November 30, 1997

"Tonight is the eve of my OJT. I want to spend my free time lounging and doing nothing at home because I will miss bumming for quite some time. I'm very tense of what will happen tomorrow because I don't know if I can survive the hardships of being a salesclerk...

...I know that later on, my life will go back to normal and this opportunity will be my key to the future...

I expect problems specially adjusting to my new environment because I don't have any experience working before. I expect troubles coming my way knowing how stupid and clumsy I could become sometimes."

Monday. December 1, 1997

"Today is the first day of work. I left PUP at around 1:40 pm and ate dinner shortly after arriving in Cubao believing that we will stay up until 9:00 pm. When we showed up at the control gate, the security personnel asked us to proceed to the HR department to claim our time card and ID. We went back to the CG after receiving final instructions, where we found our supervisors restlessly waiting...

I was assigned to the Boys Wear Department...

...I encountered different kinds of customers. At first, I asked them how I could be of assistance. Most of them only got annoyed and avoided my presence. Later on, I learned a new technique in handling customers. I would just stand beside them, like the mannequins around us, until they approach me and seek my assistance. That was how I was able to close 7 sales on my first day..."

Tuesday. December 2, 1997

"It's my second day at work and I am still adjusting to my new surroundings. I arrived at past 3 in the afternoon since we stayed first in my classmate's house near COD. There's nothing to worry about since they expect us to report later in the afternoon...

The supervisor was absent so there's no pressure in my department. I was introduced to the sales assistants, most of them have been with COD for decades, and the other 2 trainees from our school. These trainees were from college. Although I was not able to memorize their names, except for Sir Manny who was assigned to be my guide yesterday, I came up with nicknames to get acquainted with my new workmates.

... I had a customer, she's an old woman and from her looks, one would get an impression that she does not earn well. But I was touched because even if she looks poor, he bought 3 pairs of shorts and shirts which are on sale for her three kids.

... I was able to use the intercom to request for sizes and additional stocks for the first time. I was also able to hold and verify a credit card without any assistance from the other sales assistants. What a great achievement!

... We left the store at 9:15. Bad Trip! I was left behind when all my classmates made sabit at the jeep. There was no space available and if I force myself to hitch at the side rails, there's a good chance of falling off the vehicle."


Sunday. December 7, 1997

"Busy day at work. There were a lot of customers at the store because of the sale yesterday. Unfortunately, there were many of us trainees as well so I wasn't approached very often. It's my worst day of the week because I came late for the first time. I also lost my company ID and school ID this evening. I wasn't able to find them."

---

Next door is COD Department Store, which is known for its animated Christmas tableaux. One of the biggest department stores in the country during the ’70s, COD is owned by the family of Ral del Rosario Jr. who was once a swimming champion in the Asian Games. People came in droves during the holidays just to see the COD display. All the shows are Christmas in theme, but the motif would change every year. One time it was a rustic celebration of Christmas; another time, it was Christmas in outer space, with Santa Claus emerging from a spaceship. For years, it was an event for many shoppers to drop by Cubao just to see the show.

Rikki Jimenez
Remembering the Araneta Center during Dekada ’70



I just found Sir Manny's Friendster after publishing this entry. Ah the joys of remembering. Hope he still remembers.




-tobecontinued-

IV - Salesmanship

Once I had a dream of earning big by turning all my energies to running a business. It was an ambitious goal, whose beginnings I could not even recall. The drive urged me to choose Salesmanship as my elective in high school. Though it wasn't as cool or prestigious like the other electives like Bookkeeping and Stenography, I knew how practical the applications were of the subject my heart would like to take.

During enrollment, some of my classmates-to-be shed tears after learning that they were banished among the dregs. You see, Salesmanship had a very bad rep in our high school. There was this age-old myth propagated by the teachers that those being thrown there ends up being corrupted by its below-average majority.

"Kaya kung ayaw niyong maging kalawang sa high school, wag na wag kayong pupunta sa Sales!" our teacher in second year sternly warned.

With the intense drive to be an achiever, to be associated with the academically-challenged compromised one's chances of being on top. However, when I learned that my application was granted, (yes, I was one of the brave kids who defied the myth and really applied for that elective) I ran from one end of the corridor to the other to joyfully announce my victory over the current order. Those chosen to represent the star sections would find my cause of celebration quite silly (for they double-think that I'm not just a loser, I even validated it) but there I was, giddy and excited for the school year that was to come.

Flash forward two years later. In the elective subject known to us as Marketing, we learned to understand and respect market forces and harness them to our own needs. We may not have the physics, chemistry and algebra geniuses of the other sections, but our combined wealth, selling experience and delinquent influence among the better students gave us the leverage to sway them to our side. We embraced the principles - point by point - of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. We immersed ourselves to companies big and small in hopes of understanding their operations (where I had to do a term paper alone after standing against my group who did nothing during my one-on-one interview with an export company, then suggesting that we should do a report on San Miguel instead) And finally, instead of wasting our time doing high school kids do (falling in love - less, getting vain with our looks and get-ups - less and making all those pa-cute things just to get noticed - less) we sold anything (including those cutesy and rosy stationary pads used to writing love letters) to anyone just to apply what we learned in class.

The year before, we sold snacks, chips and candies to the entire high school department through our little sari-sari store outside the classroom for a project; we provided the star sections ideas on how to make money instead of spending their leisure time pursuing their geeky or vanity passions; and finally, we let them use our classroom to play Magic Cards (and spare them from embarrassment of getting caught doing a violation in their untainted corners) provided that they will support and patronize any money-generating enterprise the best of us could come up with.

Such was the life we had in the final years of my high school. I do not know if anyone from the class did really set their eyes to achieving our money-generating dreams, but now that it is all coming back, I remember, once there was a teen, and his stepping stone to getting acquainted with real-life marketing was to become a salesclerk. There, at Manila COD in Cubao did he learn to assist customers from all walks of life, swipe credit cards and record invoices, and slip his feet in someone else's shoes to become the person who takes his inquiries and orders, now that he's the one who lets others swipe his card whenever he purchases at a department store.

His older reveries echo through mine and now that I am coming up with a serious distraction to counter my economic insurgencies, his thoughts and optimism, I hope, will drown any hesitation for pushing on with my new-found life alterations.

---

-tobecontinued-

Glint Of Starlight

May Viagra na pala sa Davao City mga suki.

Ayon sa ating mga sources, P80 bawat piraso ang halaga ng nasabing sex pill.

Para sa mga Pinoy na may problema sa kanilang ibong adorno, chicken feed lamang ang nasabing presyo.

Iyon nga lamang, duda tayo kung kakagatin ng mga Pinoy ang nasabing produkto.

Alam ninyo naman ang ating lahi, mas problema natin kung papaano magpapalambot kaysa sa pagpapatigas.

o0o

Tama lamang sa kano ang produktong Viagra.

Kalahati sa kanilang male population ay baklain at ang natitirang kalahati palambutin.

Sabi nga ng isa nating babaeng kaibigan na sukat na pumatol sa kano, para raw matandang uugod-ugod ang sa kano.

Kailangan umanong hawakan at akayin upang matumbok ang daan na ibig tahakin.

Hindi katulad anya ng sa Pinoy; kahit na patay ang ilaw, basta't butas, pasak!

Suwak!

o0o

Bakit klik ang Viagra?

Susme, parang hindi na kayo nasanay sa ating male population.

Pumasok kayo sa loob ng simbahan, karamihan sa mga nakaupo at nagdarasal ay mga bata at mga kababaihan.

Ang mga kalalakihan? Nasa pinto ng simbahan. Naninigarilyo. Seryosong may pinaguusapan.

Pupusta tayo, ang topic ng kanilang usapan kung hindi pulitika ay kalibugan at agham.

At kung may kelot na nagdarasal sa loob ng simbahan, ang kaniyang dasal ay hindi ang pag-ulan ng kuwarta.

Iyon ay ang pag-ulan ng mga Osang Roces, Ara Mina, Piel Morena, Izza Ignacio, Aya Papaya, Rita Pukersiya etc.

o0o

Noong ating kapanahunan, madalas nating itanong sa ating sarili kung tayo ay sex maniac.

Kase ba naman, binubuliglig tayo suki ng mga ala-ala nina Eva Marie, Scarlett Revilla, Rizza at kung sinu-sino pa. Dose oras na sila lamang ang laman ng ating utak.

Nagtanong tayo sa ating mga kaibigan. Napailing sila. Naawa sa atin.

Abnoy daw tayo.

Sila kasi ay twenty four hours na pinagpapantasyahan ang mga chicks na ito.

o0o

Ngayong tayo ay magkaroon ng anak na lalaki ay madalas nating itanong sa ating sarili kung ano kaya ang kanyang iniisip.

Sabi nga ng commercial; what's on your mind?

Kamakailan ay natuklasan natin ang kanyang pinapangarap. Nagsalita siya habang nanaginip.

Marahil ay ito rin ang laman ng utak ng mga kabataan sa ngayon.

Ano iyon?

Pentium 2 300 (MHz),
32 MB-RAM
1.44 MB FDD
2.0 GB HDD
2 MB Video Card
SVGA Colored Monitor,
with server

Ayon sa kanya, kung ibig niyang makipag-usap sa kanyang kapwa kabataan ay mayroon silang chatline, kung ibig niyang sumulat ay may E-mail, at may strategy games siyang pinaglalaruan na "laro umano ng may utak."

Siya umano ay naka-on line

Tang'na, weirdo na talaga ang mga kabataan!

Nawala na ang mga curacha sa kanilang isipan.

o0o

Remate Tonight
May 30, 1998
Columm Title: Viagra 2

---

It was the dawn of a new age. Internet has just arrived in the country. To ride with the changing times, I wrote a letter to my dad requesting him to upgrade my desktop computer.

The letter was written in a juvenile and haphazard fashion. I just graduated from a state-funded high school and the prospects of competing in an upscale university made me a little insecure with my resources. I do not remember the contents of my letter, but I emphasized the need for an upgrade so I could catch up and be at the forefront of the information age.

He didn't respond to my letter. I thought that my plea was rejected.

In truth, I sought to have a computer upgrade so I could play all the strategy games that has become my addiction during those days: Civilization 2, Master of Orion: Battle At Antares, Transport Tycoon, Warcraft 2, etc. I needed a computer with faster processing abilities so I can out-guy every computer geek I would meet in school. He didn't find out my ulterior motives, but nevertheless, he took no interest to my appeal.

Until I found out weeks later that he made reference to my letter in his daily columns.

My dad was a writer - a prolific and respected one during his lifetime. Many political personalities sought his opinion on how to reach out to the masses - the maralita who understood his every word. My dad and I never saw each other eye to eye, but now I understand that despite his imperfections and shortcomings, he did his best to ensure that we will have a future that is better than his broken and sad childhood.

The wise men of the ancients said to honor thy parents' name even after they have long past, for in their noble memory one finds peace and contentment in life. It took me two years and a dream encounter to finally settle the scores that kept us cold and distant in the twilight days of his life.

Four years and an online journal that could stand up to his tabloid writings, I give honor to my father by letting his voice resonate throughout the endless corners of cyberspace.

Sana ang kanyang kaisa-isang naiwang column sa akin ay magpapatunay na kahit magkaiba man ang naging direksyon ng aming buhay, hindi kailanman nawala ang pag-ibig namin sa wika.

Mabuhay ka dad. In a few years time, ang naging boses mo ay magiging boses ko na rin.

Grenasian Tea Party

I.

We are here today to witness a very important meeting among the victors of the last Grovaxian War. The council will decide on the steps it will take regarding last week's assault by the Meganus headed by the vile and brutal King Koopa against our noble allies from the hills of Lolorobad: the Gomon Tribe.

Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and fellow animals. This is Faragorn Fairingay reporting to you live from the new dancing grounds of Artavia. In the course of this council meeting, I will bring to you up to the minute reports about this most historic event that would spell war or peace once again in our fair lands.

May the lady of the light protect us all.

II.

The conflict began shortly after the appearance of a doll wandering near the hills of Kolinhar, which as we all know lies within the newly expanded holdings of the Gomon Tribe. The Gomons believe that this doll came from the outer realms. Since we do not have the necessary knowledge to support their claims, many among the council members dismissed this belief as part of Gomon mysticism.

However, other creatures - particularly those from the Empire of Mumrah share this belief and the race to abduct the lost doll ensued. War machines were mobilized and as a result, it lead to a brief skirmish which resulted to the death of a Gomon officer and a Rider pilot. The doll was captured by the victorious Meganus forces.

A call to rescue the doll was requested by the Gomon Government. Since the council, especially the Artavians remain heavily indebted to their assistance during its last war against the marauding Grovaxian armies, representatives from different nations of Grenasia were sent to discuss and debate the matter over at the "Tea Party."

We've got word that the emissaries have now been assembled. Let us hear what they are about to say.

III.

"Ladies, Gentlemen and to our animal friends who have been with us throughout the forgotten ages," began the Princess Jasmine of Artavia.

"We have assembled here in the dancing grounds to listen to the plea of our ally. Our old enemies have been awakened and our lands are under threat. As witness to the foreboding darkness that might befall upon us, I introduce to you once again our friend and comrade, Magistrate Sallapudini of the Gomon Tribe."

IV.

"Greetings! esteemed representatives of Grenasia. We have come in peace, but we bring terrible news. For eons the Gomons have pondered whether there is life out there - in the realms only few of us would ever imagine. We sent our renowned and most advanced flying vessels to explore these lands but none of them have returned. We longed for answers even during our long sleep, but only, after so many ages of waiting have our longings been answered."

"A few weeks ago, a doll, much like our great lady of the light showed up in our doorstep. We have treated her with much respect, and tried our best to introduce the varied way of life and cultures flourishing in our lands. She told us many secrets that we are willing to share with you. Listen well and listen carefully, for what we are about to say will change the way you think of our existence."

"We are not alone my friends. Other intelligent creatures flourish and thrive in other realms."

A commotion and slight panic ensued after the magistrate's revelation. The Tortons, who have always believed that their lands are the center of Grenesia were on the verge of leaving the dancing grounds.

V.

"Her name is Lady Qiki of the Kingdom of Camhalla. In their realm lives dolls like ours. Such verdant land of hers know no war or misery. They don't have any flying vessels to protect their lands or spirit away their weary brothers and sisters to safe havens in times of enemy assaults. They don't have foes desiring their homes and enslaving their people. What they have is a benevolent omniscience who looks after their needs."

"We could have introduced her to you - to this council had our first contact wasn't disrupted by our common foe. The Empire was watching our every move and when we laid down our arms and welcomed the lady in peace, they struck leaving us shaken with the ferocity of their attack."

"Our brethren - our brethren the Riders, which we joined alongside with you took advantage of our weakness and hit our most prized flying vessel with their beam weapon. It killed one of our soldiers and left our most able general sobering for days. We do not know their intentions, but just like the Empire which ambushed us, they are bent on abducting the lady for their own purposes."

"We come here as your brothers seeking assistance in rescuing the lady of the outer realms. Not only do we value the wisdom she is willing to share, but it is our gracious and hospitable nature that drive us to claim and return her back to her land. We humbly seek your knowledge, your might and your unity to rescue Lady Qiki who shares our values and prevent our foes from knowing what would be dangerous to ours. The time to act is now and we wish to have your presence in this war we shall declare."

Hushed and terrified voices followed after the Magistrate's speech.

VI.

Welcome to the chamber of severed dreams my lady.

Huuuuuhhh... my head is spinning... Where am I... Who are you... What is this place... and where are my friends...

You are now under our protection, you do not have to fear us. It is our great honor to introduce you to one of your kind.

What do you mean... do you have dolls living with you? May I ask for your name?

Relax, you will find out soon enough. I am Emperor Mumrah and you are in my kingdom. Our foes call this place Mount Grovax.

Grovaxia welcomes you, Lady Qiki of Camhalla.

---

previous entry:
Warp and Weft





-tobecontinued-

Warp and Weft

Tell us something about your land my lady.

Well, Camhalla is really a beautiful place. We know no wars or misery and everyone seems to be having a tea and biscuit party all the time.

Is that all there is to see in Camhalla?

Oh, but Captain Terrille, my home is a thriving kingdom for dolls like me. The great omniscience ensures that our needs are attended to. We seek our meaning and our purpose, and lately, we have begun to ponder if we are the only dolls around. I was the first to be sent to explore other worlds, so here I am talking you.

So... are there any creatures like us out there? Maybe our ancestors were able to send flying ships to other worlds. I know, a lot of us have tried but no one came back. Who knows, these intrepid pioneers were able to bridge the distance and spread throughout different realms.

How I wish I know Captain, but, this is the first world assigned to me. Maybe, when I venture elsewhere...

...Momoko what are you doing?

Your legs are so soft. Are all dolls like you?

Please don't... come... any closer... It feels so gooood...

MOMOKO, COME HERE NOW!

But I didn't do anything Captain. I'm just... touching her.

Can't you see the lady is not- -

It's alright, thank you Captain for being a gentleman.

What is a gentleman my lady?

You don't know what a gentleman is Captain?

No, I don't.

Well never mind. Anyway, Camhalla has no leaders, kings or alliances like you have here. We are never ruled by any doll, but we speak in behalf of the Omniscient One.

Do you know any dolls like you?

Yes Momoko, there are a lot of dolls like me. There's Cynthia and Kenny, AJ and Mikhail - They're a gay couple. And there is Puypuy, our seer and the wisest among us.

What is a gay couple?

Hmmm... Well Momoko, think of it this way. I presume you and the captain are both males.

I don't know. We Gomons have no sexes.

Well how do you breed and multiply then?

My lady, I am afraid Momoko and I cannot tell you. It is something, we don't tell to anyone.

I understand. Sorry for bringing it up.

So what is a gay couple?

Your friend is really curious huh Captain? Anyway Momoko, have you ever thought of having deep and romantic feelings with your captain?

I don't know lady Kee-Kee, but I want to be with the Captain all the time. The Captain is what I live for. I feel so happy and secured when he is around.

Then maybe, you are in love with him!!

Do you think so? I don't know what love is... but if my feelings for Captain exactly describe what love is... then maybe I am.

That's great! AJ and Mikhail would love to hear your story.

Why are you so quiet Captain? Don't you feel happy that Momoko is confessing his deep feelings for you? Will you not acknowledge his declaration of love?

I am sorry my lady, but Gomons do not feel...

It is because we are afraid to feel. That's why we are born in - -

Shut up Momoko or I will throw you in the brig when we return home!

No need to fight over your feelings boys! Well Captain, if you say so, then so it shall be. But you know what, it seems you are hiding something... Nevermind.

Tell me about Grenasia, or at least your people. I would love to hear your story.

Well then, our story goes something like - -

---

FIRE THE CANNONS!! AVOID HITTING THE DOLL AT ALL COST!

BOOM!!! BOOM!!!

Duck my lady! Duck!!

What is happening Captain? Why are they shooting at us?

They are the loyal servants of Emperor Mumrah, our sworn enemies, the Meganus.

BOOM!!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

Captain, they are closing at us. Stay with the lady.

Where are you going?

To the Falconis, I will fly it to distract them. Tell the council they have arrived.

Momoko, wait!!

See you when I get back Captain.

The Meganus Flagship, Kashiyette lands. King Koopa emerges from the blast doors.

So, we meet again Gomon Terrille. Do you still remember how your people destroyed my Mt. Grovax Stronghold?

Yes, and we will do it over and over again until you don't have any means of spreading darkness into our lands Koopa.

TELL THE PIKA-SUU TO LAUNCH THE ABDUCTION CABLES! WE WILL TAKE THE DOLL AND DESTROY THE FALCONIS

They seemed armed Captain, I'm scared.

Stay behind my back my lady. Help is on the way.

FIRE!!!!

SWIIISHH!! TLANKS!!! BZZZT!!!

Captain they got me! I can't move.

BUDA! BUDA! BUDA!

The Abduction Cable receives a direct hit. It slips away from the Pika-suu.

You will never get Kee-Kee as long as I'm around!

"King Koopa, the Falconis!"

AIM YOUR CANNONS TOWARD THE FALCONIS! FIRE AT WILL!!

BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

Haha!! You will never catch up with --

VZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!

The Falconis was hit by an unknown energy ball from the sky it crashed somewhere behind the hills

Whoa!?! Who was that???

MOMOKO!!!!

Momoko...

"King Koopa, the Riders have arrived!!"


Goddammit! I thought Hirogen and the Ultramen destroyed them?

"Some of them must have escaped our attack, what are your orders King Koopa?"

We have to capture the doll no matter what it - -

The Riders began jamming the Kashiyette communication system in order to contact King Koopa.

"ZZZTTT, we are the riders, we have come to get the doll for ourselves, ZZZTT"

"ZZZTTT, you do not have any business here, begone, or be destroyed, ZZZTT"

FRAK THEM RIDERS!!

"King Koopa, the sensors reveal that they are charging their superweapon."

TO THE CAPTAIN OF PIKA-SUU, OVERLOAD YOUR SYSTEM, FULL POWER TO THRUSTERS, RAM YOUR SHIP AGAINST THEIR ROBOT!!

But King Koopa, we will be sacrif - -

"Yes King Koopa."

I DON'T CARE IF THEY ALL DIE! EMPEROR MUMRAH WANTS THE DOLL, THE EMPEROR WILL GET THE DOLL!

Pikasu's afterburners lit up, as King Koopa's flagship lifts up to join its sister ship for a double attack

BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

"FIRE ALL CANNONS, THE RIDER ROBOT IS A SLOW MOVING TARGET!!"

BOOM!!! BOOM!!! BOOM!!!

Help me Captain, I never thought your world is as violent as this...

Captain...

"We Live for King Koopa, We Die for King Koopa!!"

The Rider Robot was indeed a slow moving target. As it turns around to flee the approaching battleship, The Pika-suu rammed the heavily armored robot, cutting it half. As it plummets to the ground, Qiki was able to spot one of the pilot Riders trying to get out of his ship.

"The Pika-suu destroyed the enemy. There are no survivors King Koopa."

Honor our men's passing my dear comrades, for they died in order for us to live.

"What shall we do with the Gomon captain?"

They must have alerted their allies to our presence. Capture the doll. It's time to claim our gift for Emperor Mumrah!

King Koopas' Flagship fires two tiny projectiles and it probes deep into Qiki's right arm. Suddenly, she felt weak and unable to move

... Help.. me... Captain...

As the Kashiyette prepares to fire its thrusters, Captain Terrille's organic communicator attached to his scales bleeped.


It was the Gomon Council.

"Captain are you there? The Falconis disappeared from our radar screen. Please respond!! If you are still alive, help is on the way.

Magistrate Sallapudinni wants you to know that the Council has sent a word to the old Grenasian Alliance about the doll. The security council will convene in several days"

Still frozen from his spot, Captain Terrille could only utter...

I lied Momoko...

It was you I always long to be with...

---

-tobecontinued-

The Art Of War

Sun Tzu said: Whoever is first in the field and
awaits the coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight;
whoever is second in the field and has to hasten to battle
will arrive exhausted.

VI. Weak Points and Strong

"The council has agreed to let you establish contact with this doll you mentioned. However, we advise you to exercise extreme caution for these dolls can never be trusted."

Yes Magistrate Sallapuddini, we will follow what the council desires to achieve.

"We have our full confidence in you Captain Terrille. We hope that you succeed in your mission."

Thank you. Any news if the other kingdoms have already been awakened?

"We do not have any news as of now. We will tell you about them when they communicate with us."

My utmost appreciation for your consideration. I am afraid Magistrate that our greatest threat is already on the move.

"Worry not Captain, our eyes are on the lookout for any Mogul Forces. We will eliminate the threat the moment we sense them."

I am relieved to know that. It would do us best to seek out the Artavians. We will need their help and the others in case the Moguls call on their vast armies.

"I will bring your concerns to the Council. Goodbye for now."

Captain, the Falconis is about to land. What are your orders?

The lady must not be alerted of our presence. Land this ship where she will not see us.

The art of war teaches us to rely not on the
likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness
to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking,
but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.

VIII. Variation in Tactics

Captain, pardon my inquiry but I heard the Magistrate speak of not trusting the dolls. Was there a time when dolls were our enemies?

You were still a pouchling when it all happened Momoko. The dolls were servants of the dark lord Brolie. They were powerful creatures who simply trampled us in the the battlefield. What stands between us and them was Lady Jasmine. She was the most powerful among them.

Tell me more about Lady Jasmine.

Ahhh!! You have a lot of questions Momoko. Let's talk again next time, we're almost an earshot from the doll.

I'm scared Captain.

Hush, hush. You're a soldier. Don't be intimidated by a giant like her.

Gosh! Why I can't send a message to Camhalla? Is there something wrong with my communicator. I want to go home. *sob*

Umm excuse me...

Had I known this would be hard. I shouldn't have volunteered to become the Ambassadress. The Omniscient One should have sent AJ or Lolita instead. Maybe little Puypuy would fit the mission better.

You won't call her attention by that Dimwit! Let me announce our presence.

HIGH PRAISES TO YOU MOST BEAUTIFUL ONE!!!

Huh? Who's there! Show yourself or I will blast you with my deathray!

Do dolls have deathray Captain?

She's just bluffing. Dolls don't even have flying machines like us.

MY NAME IS CAPTAIN TERRILLE OF THE GOMON TRIBE. WE COME IN PEACE.

You don't need to shout. Just show yourself and keep me company. I am sooooo lonely, I wanna die.

Here we are my dear lady.

Huh? Where?

Look down and you will see us.

Gee... You're so... tiny

And you're so big! I wonder how your mammary glands look like?

Shhhh... Shut your mouth Momoko or we will be in trouble.

Your friend is funny. Do you want to see him fly?

Pardon his tongue my dear lady. It is his first time to see a creature as gorgeous as you.

You're flattering me *blush* I pressume you're the Captain, am I right?

Yes my lady.

Well then. My name is Qiki of the land of Camhalla. I have come here to seek dolls like me. Have you seen anyone.

Oh! Oh! I...

Why did you cover his mouth. Your friend Momoko wishes to speak.

What he will say would just upset you my dear lady. We are also seeking the dolls you seek.

Oh great! Now I have company. Are you the survivors of Grenasia?

When there is dust rising in a high column,
it is the sign of chariots advancing; when the dust is low,
but spread over a wide area, it betokens the approach
of infantry. When it branches out in different directions,
it shows that parties have been sent to collect firewood.
A few clouds of dust moving to and fro signify that the army
is encamping.

IX. The Army on the March

This just came in my lord.

Tell me what is it Hirogen.

Our spy was able to intercept a message from Gomon. The message contains information about the location of the doll from another realm.

Perfect. So it is true that dolls live in another world. Prince Kasper never told us that dolls thrive elsewhere. Perhaps, it was his excuse to rule us all. Nevertheless, I will overlook this deception for higher goals. If dolls do exist not only here in Grenesia, then there are worlds we can conquer out there. This doll will unlock our passage to another realms.

But most of our men are in deep sleep Emperor Mumrah.

No need to worry Detron. They will be awakened in time. This doll... appears to be a delectable present to Prince Kasper. He will be delighted when he finally wakes up.

Yes. And perhaps his life force shall be doubled once he consumes this doll. It's time we avenge our defeat from the Grenasian Alliance.

We will come to that Detron. Have patience my old, old friend.

In making tactical dispositions, the highest pitch
you can attain is to conceal them; conceal your dispositions,
and you will be safe from the prying of the subtlest spies,
from the machinations of the wisest brains.

VI. Weak Points and Strong

Our time of victory is now my dear comrades! Emperor Mumrah has sought our assistance to capture this doll who is under the sway of our sworn enemies, the Gomon. We have lost so much because of them and this time, we shall rain defeat into their homelands. This doll holds the key to our future. If her secrets become ours, countless worlds will fall into our hands. We shall bring terror to those who oppose us and we shall destroy the Gomons once and for all!!

All hail to King Koopa!!!

My dear comrades, we have been given the opportunity to show what we are. The Starjammers were never asked to serve and so were the Ultramen. We will abduct the lady and bring her to the high lord. With luck, Prince Kasper will take notice of our victory and bless us with more courage to fight his battles.

We have two battleships to aid us in our assault.

They will never know what hit them.

---

The Art of War

-tobecontinued-

First Contact

I've been walking for days but I haven't met any single creature in this place. The guardians are nowhere to be found and I'm getting weary that my mission here would go to waste.

Is the Omniscient One wrong with his vision? I do not feel any dolls' presence around here. Maybe Pulsar was right, everyone disappeared when Grenasia crumbled and its place arose Jomania. If that's the case, I should get ready and leave this realm. There are many other worlds to visit and perhaps, I may find what I'm looking for in those lands.

Anyway, I miss Camhalla, I wish I could go back home.

---

Woops, I bumped into something. What's this? From the looks of it, I think it's an artifact. Lemme take a closer look.

Hmmm..

Nope this is not just an artifact, this is a very ancient toy puzzle. I wonder where it came from? Good thing I know little about Toycheology. I will try to look for inscriptions embedded in this toy.

Bingo! I found it.

According to the inscription this puzzle tortoise has been around for more than 20 thousand years! It was once possessed by a boy who had this penchant for any toy that he can pull with a string.

---

I have visual contact captain. She is indeed someone not from this world. Shall I alert the others of her presence or shall we engage her ourselves? The Falconis is still armed with missiles right?

Let's keep things cool Momoko. I think she is no threat to us. In fact, she might be someone related to Lady Jasmine of the Palace of Eternal Light. Do you still remember her?

A little Captain. It's been ages since we last spoke of her.

Yes. It's because our time is already over. This lady doll down below is the reason why we are here. Her arrival awakened us. My concern now is that others who have been stirred from their eternal sleep will be looking for her as well.

Are you referring to Mumrah and the Starjammers?

Yes and there are many others. I will now send an encrypted message to the base.

For what Captain?

I will seek permission from the council to have first contact. It's been a very long time since we spoke to a doll and I would need the elders' guidance so I can handle things without provoking anyone.

---

This tortoise is one of the few objects that survived the ravages of time. It is a memory upon itself. The boy who owns this puzzle toy is now the Omniscience of Jomania.

And this artifact is all that remains of his earliest childhood.

-tobecontinued-

Muñeca Emisaria

Greetings my lady, welcome to the realm of Jomania. My name is Mugenbear, the heart and soul of this place.

My name is Darkstar, the protector of the pristine wilderness of this kingdom.

And they call me Pulsar the Pink. Hyuk.. Hyuk.. I am the one who keeps the balance in this fair land. How may we assist you?

Great tidings my lords. My name is Qiki, the beautiful and voluptuous ambassadress from a land far far away. I have come bearing good intentions from the omnipresent one, Master Neil of the great nation of Camhalla.

In behalf of all that is left of Jomania, we acknowledge your most esteemed one, Ambassadress Qiki. Hyuk.. Hyuk..

Thank you. Your graciousness will be noted in the annals of Camhalla. Anyway, lets get down to business shall we?

The guardians of Jomania are listening my lady.

Great. I have heard that this land is a home to dolls like me. Whispers tell of a princess who keeps the harmony in this place a long time ago. I do not know what happened and nobody in Camhalla knows your land's legends. Is it possible to seek their audience?


... [silence]

You speak of folktales ambassadress. Hyuk.. Hyuk.. We do not know of such dolls. If they have ever existed, then they have preceded us by eons.

Only the three of us remain in this place, but yes, whispers tell of a world they call Grenesia. The land was blessed with life. Unfortunately, tiny nation-states battle for supremacy in that realm. They set up fortresses and kingdoms perched on top of the hills or deep inside the caves. Legends tell that some of these tribes were gifted with exceptional talents that they can make objects fly. We do not know how such powers exist, but it is what the folktales reveal.

Interesting. We never know of such people in Camhalla. Is there a way I can reach out to them?

We do not think it is possible my lady. Grenasia is a world far different from the realm of Jomania. However, we do believe that some of the tribes have survived the war and the ones left are resting deep beneath this land of serenity. We leave you to explore this place. Maybe, just maybe, your presence might awaken them again.

Thank you very much. I have more questions...

Alas, our time has come to leave. Seek and you will find. May the infinite wisdom of this land guide you in your quest. Goodbye Qiki.

Wait... Don't leave me alone please!!

Heaven's, they left.

---

-tobecontinued-

Spirit Within

Mga ganitong araw noong bata kami nagsisimula ang diwa ng Pasko sa aming lugar. Pagkagat ng dilim, kanya-kanya kaming labasan sa aming mga bahay upang magtipon sa isang lugar para pag-usapan ang pangangaroling pagsapit ng gabi. Hapon pa lang ay nakahanda na ang mga instrumentong aming gagamitin. Nariyan ang tambol na gawa sa lata ng gatas na hiningi sa isang kapitbahay. Ito ay tinatanggalan namin ng plastic na takip upang pasakan ng cellophane na magsisilbing drumhead nito. Gamit ang mga gomang napanalunan sa isang larong kalye, ang cellophane ay aming inuunat gamit ang mga goma bilang panali hanggang ito ay magkaroon ng tunog. Ang drumstick ay gawa sa kawayan na ginamit na pantuhog ng Banana Que. Madalas ay pinupulot namin ito sa basurahan. Ang dulo ng stick ay binabalutan namin ng plastic bag na tinalian ng goma upang ito ay tumalbog sa tuwing tumatama sa kasama nitong tambol.

Kapag sinisipag, nariyan rin ang Tambourine na gawa sa mga tansan. Ang mga tansan ay aming pipitpitin hanggang sa ito'y maging flat at bubutasan sa gitna gamit ang pako at martilyo upang magsilbing lagusan ng wire kapag ang mga tansan ay amin nang pinagsama-sama. Hindi ko na matandaan kung may iba pang mga instrumento na gamit noon sa pangangaroling. Basta sa aming lugar sa Santa Mesa, sapat na ang dalawa.

Kadalasan, ang unang pintuan na kinakantahan ay ang sa kapitbahay. Bukod kasi sa kakilala na, imposible ang masabihan ng "patawad po!" lalo na't kapag ang nanay ay nasa bakuran lang ng bahay mo. Madalas ay sila rin ang pinaka-mataas magbigay ng aginaldo na noong kapanahunan ko ay hindi tataas ng tatlong piso. Ang saya no? Ganito kasimple ang buhay noon. Mayroon mang TV Patrol sa TV - na si Noli De Castro pa ang news anchor, wala sa aming bokabularyo ang maglagi lang sa loob ng bahay upang manood lang ng telenovela.

Magbalik tayo sa pangangaroling. Upang maging madali ang hatian, nililimitahan ang kasapi sa tatlo o apat depende sa dami ng musical accompaniment ng grupo. Mayroon nga dating mga bata, soloflight na sila sa pagkanta, ni Tambourine ay wala pang kadala-dala. Gawin daw bang A capella ang "Sa Aming Bahay." Madalas sila ang nabibiktima ng "patawad po!" Kung hindi man rejected, laging maliit ang natatanggap nilang aginaldo galing sa mga bahay-bahay.

Iikot ang gabi na para bang walang pasok sa paaralan kinabukasan. Sabagay, sa mga panahong ito ay Christmas Mood na rin sa aming Catholic School. Nariyan ang mga adbento-adbento, ang pagsisindi ng mga kandila tuwing Flag Ceremony at ang walang katapusang pagpla-plano ng Christmas Party at Christmas decoration ng mga rooms. Pati ang mga teacher ay tinatamad rin sa kanilang lessons, palibhasa kasi ay nasa kung saan na ang mga utak nila. Come to think of it, masaya sa elementarya. Sana lang ay puwede tayo maging pupil habambuhay.

Sa buong takbo ng pangangaroling, mararanasan namin ng maraming beses ang mapatawad. Madalas ay walang barya o kaya naman ay naunahan kami ng kumpetisyon salamat sa ibang mga bata na dumayo pa galing sa ibang lugar. Sa tindi ng kumpetisyon, makakarating kami ng ibang baranggay at papasok sa mga eskinita na walang lagusan. Mababastos rin kami ng mga tambay at kakahulan ng mga aso na animo'y mas malaki pa sa amin.

Sa sampung bahay na magbibigay sa amin ng aginaldo, anim dito puro mamiso. Ang isa ay singkwenta sentimos at kung makaka-jackpot ay maaring may magbigay ng limang piso. Pero dahil wala pang limang pisong coins noon, maaring nag-iilusyon lang ako. Sa hinaba-haba ng Christmas Season dito sa bansa, darating rin ang mga gabi na puro patawad ang iyong maririnig. Ang ibang mga bata ay babawi sa pagkanta nila ng "Tenk yu, Tenk yu, ambabarat ninyo Tenk yu!!" sabay takbo papalayo sa bahay. Ang iba naman ay bubwelo pa lang sa pagkanta subalit nakatanggap na ng isang malutong na "Patawad," bago pa sila makahinga. Sa pagdaan ng panahon, masasawa ka rin na kada gabi na lang ay may kakantang mga bata sa iyong pintuan upang manghingi ng aginaldo. Sa mga bata naman, nakakawalang gana rin ang mangaroling gabi-gabi na alam mong wala kang mapapala sa dami ng rejections na natanggap mo. Siguro ito rin ang dahilan kung bakit sa panahon ngayon, bihira na lang ang may kumakanta ng "Sa Aming Bahay." Maaring sa ilang lugar ay nangyayari pa ito, subalit sa amin ay wala na akong naririnig pa.

Christmas is around the corner, ang sabi nila. Sa bahay nga ay ilang linggo na akong kinakantahan ni Yaya para magdagdag ng Christmas Lights sa labas ng bahay. Masyado daw malungkot sa compound dahil walang nagsasabit ng ilaw o kahit parol man lang. Naghahanda na rin ang mga malls at palengke sa dagsa ng mga tao para sa nalalapit na pagdiriwang. Tiyak, marami na rin ang nagscra-scramble para makahanap ng karelasyon maiwasan lang maging miyembro ng SMC ngayong taon.

At para sa mga katulad kong nakakamiss ng nakaraan habang patuloy na naglalakad sa isang hinaharap na walang kasiguraduhan,

Ang alaala ng pangangaroling noong aking kabataan ang isa sa mga bagay upang ang diwa ng Pasko ay patuloy na magkaroon ng totoong halaga sa akin.

Kahit pa na sa maraming pagkakataon ay unti-unti ko na itong kinakalimutan.

---

Christmas Shopping spree officially began this afternoon.
All for the sake of capturing the spirit...

Age of the Black Sun

At two in the morning dad would arrive home from work - or from some other affair I do not wish to know. He would park his red Toyota FX along the driveway, in front of the house where it could be easily spotted in case someone decides to take down its side mirrors. He would then walk up the stairs and into the master's bedroom where he would retire for the night and would not be available until the next morning.

Leaving all things clear for a sneak out, I would tiptoe my way down the stairs a few minutes later and head towards the door where the vehicle is parked outside. Sometimes, with the driver's blessing he would give me the keys to the car. I would cautiously slip into the driver's seat, shut the door close and wait for signs hoping that nobody noticed me entering my dad's Toyota FX.

I would turn on the engines, rev it up a little by stepping my foot on the gas pedal and wait for a few more minutes until the coast is clear. Holding the gear stick and shifting it to reverse, the vehicle would jolt slightly. Slowly, it would move backwards squeezing itself into the narrow driveway that leads to the main road. The neighbors of course, know my daring late-night tryst with the road. They would just keep a mum about it to prevent any ill-feelings in case I find out who the squealer is.

And the car is out of the driveway. I would lower down the windows to give an impression that I am a pro. I would take the car for a spin around Sampaloc and Quezon City avoiding the main roads where the police squad might be patrolling. The danger lies not with the risk of running over someone or crashing my dad's beloved vehicle to another car. In those days, his powerful position gave this impression that he can pull me out of trouble in case I get into one. The biggest danger lies with the act itself - for my only experience in driving comes from racing cars in game arcades when friends invite me for a spin.

The worst part is, I drove my dad's vehicle without a license.

Those daring early-morning escapades lasted for months and it paved the way for me to learn how to drive a real vehicle. Had it not for a slight miscalculation where I scratched a neighbor's van and its paint peeled off during a separate incident, I would still be driving right now. The trauma I got from my mom's reprimands was enough to scare me from holding a gear stick for life.

It was the age of the Black Sun - the time when I learned how to sneak out, become daring and return home without getting noticed. On some nights when I feel too restless to settle down, I look back and remember those 2 am's when I would sit on the driver's seat, step on the gas pedal until the car's speed reaches 80 on a four-lane road, lower down the windows to let the cold October wind blows on my face while a Semisonic song plays on NU-107.

I drove around in hopes that my experience would allow me to bring the FX to the hills of Antipolo. With a trusted companion beside me, it was my wish to chill in Kelly Heights by gazing at the blinking lights of Manila until daybreak arrives while reaffirming a bond that would last for life.

The wish never came true.

But somewhere along the lines that separate the past from the present, the memory of the Black Sun returns and when it does, I become a risk taker with little regard for things that may happen after the deed is finally done.

Kowloon In My Heart

It's past nine in the evening. In less than an hour another work day will come to an end. Deep in the heart of my belly, the rebellious forces of my intestines are gathering. For the second time this week, I skipped eating dinner again. Blame it on my lack of appetite but if your stomach has been used to digesting Oatmeal for almost a year, it would surely grow weary of it. Come to think of it, I cannot remember the last time I ate rice for dinner.

So there.

My arms weak and my limbs close to collapse. I limp my way from P. Guevarra to a neighborhood known to its residents as Little Baguio in San Juan. From there, I need to ride a jeep that will take me across the rolling hills of that posh town and emerge a few steps away from Agora. From there all I need to do is hail a jeep bound for Divisoria to find my way home.

However, my real journey has just begun.

With an aching tummy, a frustrating work performance and a frail body abused due to erratic eating habits, the need to heed one's craving must be paid attention. When the mind takes over one's action, not even the consideration of money will stop it from fulfilling its goals.

And my mind speaks of one thing. Food.

What it desires is not just an ordinary dinner. It demands a serving of Jumbo Pao and three pieces of Pork Siomai only from Kowloon House.

Me: hails a cab across Puregold Agora.

Taxi Driver: Boss saan tayo?

Me: Sa Santa Mesa manong, pero daan muna tayo sa Araneta. May bibilhin lang po ako.

The taxi driver who is oblivious to my cravings will drive his cab pass the funeral homes and pass the massage parlors in that stretch of road only to make a brief stopover in the lone Kowloon House outlet in Araneta Avenue. As he waits inside the cab with its hazard lights blinking to serve as warning to speeding vehicles, I take all the time in the world placing my order to the attendant and savoring the steaming buns inside the traditional bamboo steam baskets while its sweet, woody aroma wafts under my nose.

In that brief encounter between me and the pork buns, the worries of the world suddenly evaporates like steam from my thoughts.

The big Siomai would be the first to go as the cab speeds its way home. It is my habit to ask the manong driver to partake on my little feast as a gesture of goodwill. I do this while devouring a piece of Siomai with three big bites. Sensing perhaps my greed, the cab driver would just smile and decline my invitation. The truth is, I have no intention of sharing my food. I have given up too much just to enjoy such life's little pleasures.

The moment I arrive home, I would sneak towards my room. Expecting to find my sister lying on my bed, I would drive her out while the oversized bun waiting to be eaten lay hidden in one of the mattress racks outside my room.

I would then grab the Jumbo Pao from its hiding place and feel its warmth as it rests in the palm of my hands. Taking it out of its plastic bag, I would gently peel the rice paper covering its base. With its soft bottom exposed to my gnashing teeth, I would pour copious amounts of sweet sauce as I brace my mouth for the first bite.

Glomp... Ah... Heaven.

The blend of sweet, cake-like dough, salted eggs, Chinese sausages and minced pork stuffed inside a plump bun would tempt you to bite some more...

And more...

And more... until you realize that the siopao you have rewarded yourself after a long boring day at work; the siopao you have craved the whole evening and the reason you took a long-way route from office, rode a taxi costing you P75 pesos just to get to the outlet, and revealed the hidden glutton in you when you kept its presence a secret from everyone at home, is already gone.

With my tummy now full and my cravings finally satisfied, I should have moved on to do other things. However, now that I think about it, the siopao's absence now leaves me empty.

Strange isn't it?

Is it because I have achieved a unique sense of taste for things only people from older generations would truly appreciate? Is it because I have gone beyond the cravings for Chowking, North Park and other high-end Chinese fastfood restaurants which sprouted across the city only to discover the source of them all?

I would never know.

As the Jumbo Pao's sweet aftertaste lingers inside my mouth, it opens some long-shut doors for vague memories of childhood to flow. I never thought I would remember, but strange how familiar tastes invoke a sense of longing:

It is almost midnight. Cramped in a small room in my grandparent's house, my mom and I await for dad's arrival. Since it's already late, he would never enter the house through the main door. Dad will surely get some tongue lashing from my mom's mother the following morning. Instead, we have a trap door next to the bathroom. It is where my dad enters when he doesn't want the entire household to know his arrival.

The moment he knocks on the trap door, expect me, who pretends to sleep the whole night jumping out of the bed to open the door and greet my dad. In some bountiful nights, he would extend his hand to give me a brown paper bag whose contents I already know.

"Pasalubong ko sayo anak..."

"Ano yan?"

"Miyaopao... diba gusto mo ito, hati kayo ni mama." He would say grinning.

Had I not rediscovered the Siopao from Kowloon House many, many years later. That memory of my good father would have been lost to me forever.

Olympia

During the Olympic Games a truce or ekecheiria was observed. Three runners known as spondophoroi were sent from Elis to the various participant cities at each set of games to announce the beginning of the truce. During this period armies were forbidden from entering Olympia, wars were suspended and legal disputes and the use of the death penalty were forbidden. The truce was primarily designed to allow athletes and visitors to travel safely to the games, and was for the most part observed, although Thucydides wrote of a situation where the Spartans were forbidden from attending the games and fined 200,000 drachmas for assaulting the city of Lepreum during the period of the ekechiria, claiming that the truce had not yet taken hold

- Wikipedia, Olympics

---

I have vague memories when the Summer Olympics was held in Seoul, South Korea in 1988. All I can recall is that it was held during the day. When the Summer Olympics was held in Barcelona, Spain, San Miguel Campo Carne was the main sponsor of the media coverage here in Manila. I also remember a flamenco dancer performing during the opening ceremony. I haven't seen the games when it was held in Atlanta in 1996. All I know is that it was heavily commercialized and many consider it a flop in Modern Olympic history. I shouted and jumped in front of the TV when the Koreans showed up with a unified flag in Sydney four years later. Thanks to YouTube, I was able to watch the opening ceremony held in Athens four years ago only this evening.

The Olympics is known for its excessive pageantry that showcases the nation who will host the event. It is a source of heavy economic burden for those who decide to undertake its hosting. I once asked my mother if we could one day hold the Olympics here. She only said "not in our lifetime." Now that I am old, I understand what she meant then. Despite these consequences, the Olympics is still an enduring symbol of a dynamic world held together by interlacing five rings that represents unity and diversity. Throughout the years, the Olympics is used for political statements (when countries boycott the games) and it paves the way for social upheavals to happen, such when the host nation showcases its economic supremacy to the world or when the host nation caves in to political pressure and changes to a more democratic form of government.

Tomorrow will be the beginning of another Olympiad, and this time, it is China who will be hosting the largest gathering of nations the world has ever seen. The opening ceremony hasn't begun yet, but from what I've seen in the news these past few days, problems have already made this multi-sport event a publicity nightmare for the Chinese government.

Despite the negative feedback from Beijing, I am set to watch the games tomorrow at 8 pm. With the Greeks gaining critical acclaim for having the best opening ceremonies so far, it will be interesting to find out if the Chinese can match an opening performance worth of their emergence in global affairs.

"Clepydra," 2004 Athens Summer Olympic Games opening ceremony. Nagandahan ako sa sounds, costume at saka sa gracefulness ni Eros kaya pinili kong ito ang maging highlight ng aking mga napanood sa YouTube ngayong gabi.

Eraserheads Generation

Funny how we remember bygone years whenever Grey clouds hover above our heads.

It was half past six in the morning. The sun had barely took a peek behind the same heaving clouds, when I found myself seated inside a Cubao-bound jeepney going to school. The passenger who sat next to me might have been rudely awakened too that morning. His eyes were still drooping when he boarded the jeep somewhere in Welcome Rotonda. Other passengers took advantage of the long breezy travel to take a nap by leaning their heads on their arms as it dangles, hand tight, on the stainless estribo hanging overhead.

In those days, Love Radio and Yes FM weren't on air yet. In its place were FM stations that played songs from Pinoy Rock bands who probably had recently signed up with recording studios that raked millions from selling cassette tapes alone. Mp3s were not yet invented and so were compact disks. Music piracy wasn't yet a serious problem and MTV was still considered a staple for rich people who owned satellite dishes in their stately homes. Internet hasn't arrived yet in the country and computers were more of a fancy rather than a practical tool for everyone.

The year was 1994 and I was in Grade Six.

I could not remember the other songs played on the radio that cloudy morning. There was a desperation in me to catch some sleep like what the other passengers did beside me. The maid, who was my daily companion going to school was busy looking at the pedestrians outside. She claims to enjoy people watching and it was the sole reason why she was chosen to accompany me everyday. Meanwhile, just when I was about to close my eyes, a strangely appealing new song was played on the radio.

"Gagawin ko ang lahat pati ang thesis mo
‘Wag mo lang ipagkait ang hinahanap ko"

The tune was smooth and flowing. It was not like the rap and monotonously instructive "Mga Kababayan Ko" of Francis Magalona, which was the anthem of the day. It wasn't a ballad like what Neocolors and Introvoys were singing in those days. The tune I have just heard was totally refreshing, it's almost like a reinvention. The lyrics projected an image of a laidback student trying to win a girl's heart by doing her little favors. The vocalist had a spunky and youthful appeal that would become his trademark for years to come. The song was so catchy that I instantly fell in love with the band. I even told my yaya after the song was played that it will become popular in the months to come.

I was right. Not only did the song become a hit. The band who sang it rose up to become an icon representing an entire generation.

---

And so Eraserheads became popular. They set the standards in music for other bands to follow. I won't tell much about them for others have already written countless stories and praises about the band. All I know is that if someone ask me what was the first cassette tape that I bought, my answer will be Circus.

They had their ups and downs. I remember how the song "Alapaap" became a controversy after its "subliminal" message caught the attention of then Senator Tito Sotto who put the issue on spotlight to gain media mileage for his upcoming reelections. The controversy died a natural death but it catapulted the band to dizzying heights. By the time they released their third album Cutterpillow, Eraserheads had already reached the zenith of their music career.

Like most people I know, I stopped buying their albums after Sticker Happy. Their music had evolved too fast that their fans, including me, simply lost touch of their songs. I felt their swift dive towards obscurity when Aloha Milkyway was released. Unfortunately, they had become too commercialized that their soulful appeal had faded. It was only recently, after Dodong's influence that I finally appreciated their music's maturity in the album Natin99.

I admit that it would still take some time before my ears could finally adjust to the songs in Carbon StereOxide. At this point in the band's career, they simply had grown too different from the Eraserheads I heard inside the jeep going to school. As fate would dictate, the band split up a few months after their last album was released. Ely Buendia formed a short-lived band called Mongols. In his place in the Eraserheads was a disappointing replacement by the name of Kris Dancel.

---

Much as it was painful to let an icon go, Eraserheads had to fade away or it would suffer an end not worthy of its beginning. It would be like Rivermaya, in its final days when it was being sidestepped by newer bands like Bamboo, Spongecola, Cueshe and even Hale. The signs of Ehead's passing were already showing during CarbonStereOxide's time and I guess, the band owes it to Ely Buendia's initiative to leave the group that gave them the legacy it can still boast today.

However, when news about a reunion concert circulates in the internet, one can't help but get excited at the prospects of seeing the people who shaped one's music taste appear on stage after a turbulent break-up.

It's like having one's life being played back all over again.

And speaking of beginnings, I remember attending my first-ever concert together with my mother at Amoranto Stadium one cloudless night of 1993. The bands that played in that concert were Joey Ayala, Freddie Aguilar, Grace Nono, Color it Red, The Jerks, Gary Granada and The Youth. One band that performed that night, which I unfortunately never saw because I was sleeping was the Eraserheads. It was one of their first gig long before "Pare Ko" placed them on the spotlight.

If and ever I would get to attend the reunion concert this August. I would be given a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness the birth and final death of a star. Once the availability of the tickets are announced, I will make sure to get the second stub.

For the Eraserheads concert will not open a new beginning. It is a one-night performance that will officially close an age.


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