I was talking with my brother about movies a couple of days ago, and we somehow drifted to this one movie: Ghost Rider. I never saw it but I thought it was pretty cool from the trailers. So my brother told me it sucked, and I was curious to find out so I borrowed a DVD (borrowed, so there’s no guilt in buying). Watching a movie just to see how bad it is wasn’t new to me. I did that on Alexander, the Colin Farell movie. Oh boy….what a movie. Anyway, back to the review.

The tagline was “Hell is about to be unleashed.” And it was right, hell was unleashed, and it was terrible! I was really disappointed with how this movie turned out to be. I mean, I loved Face/Off (I’m Castor Troy! lols), but this movie was just ugh. 

Going to Ghost Rider, the animations are really great. The flaming skull, chain, and bike really blew me away. But aside from that, the movie stank. The storyline was just horrible, especially the battle sequences Ghost Rider had with his enemies. The movie just failed to show me how cool Ghost Rider is by quick battle scenes and this gesture by Ghost Rider which really annoyed me (the part where he points at someone and goes, “You.”) Maybe Nic Cage thought it was cool when he helped write the script. Maybe. Ghost Rider also has the penance stare, where he stares at you while you relive the pains of your sins a thousand times over. The victim then gets his eyes turned to something (I don’t know what it is -.-’) and falls down. The movie doesn’t even tell you if he’s blind or dead.

So the villains in the movie are three elemental dudes and the son of Satan himself – Blackheart. Kind of like a video game, where the hero fights these mini-bosses(the elementals), then has a dramatic face-off with the final boss (Blackheart). 

So the first battle was with Earth. Earth just rams Ghost Rider with a truck, which looked awesome. But as Earth was walking away, Ghost Rider pops out of nowhere, punches Earth, and wraps him in his flame whip. Earth dies. At this point I was really concerned. Earth hardly put up a fight! It was just a scene of Ghost Rider saying a one-liner (Mercy? All out of mercy.) then quickly dispatching Earth. That was it??

The second battle was with air, which wasn’t as bad as Earth but still bad. So Air shows up, Ghost Rider shows up and they rumble. Ghost Rider tries what he did to Earth but (!), here’s the twist: You can’t grab air. I was thinking, “woah! how’s he going to get out of this hole?” So Ghost Rider whirls his whip to trap Air in a funnel, then Air explodes. All this in less than a minute. T_T 

The third battle was the most disappointing among the mini-boss battles. So Ghost Rider rides in this forest with mist (o0o0oh). I was expecting Water to come out of nowhere any minute. And then BOOM! Nic Cage gets pulled underwater by none other than Water himself! So they wrestle underwater, Water clearly looking like he has the situation under control. Nic Cage’s eyes then burst into flames and turns into Ghost Rider, and quickly kills Water. Again, all in under a minute, or now that I think about it, 30 seconds. Talk about anticlimactic! Water was killed in his own house! He’d at least try to win but he just died as fast as he appeared. The anticipation was just ruined. 

Before going to the final battle, I’d like to describe another horrible scene. So Nic Cage meets the old Ghost Rider and both ride out to battle. Nic Cage has his fire bike, and the old Ghost Rider has his fire horse. So they both ride out to meet Blackheart. Just seeing  two ghost riders riding out was the coolest. Then just as they were about to meet Blackheart, old Ghost Rider says, “This is the end of the trail for me *rides back*.” Oh…my…god. What was that….. 0_0

Okay, so it’s final boss time, the son of the devil. This ought to be nice. But I’ll just do what this movie does so well, I’ll skip right to the end. So Ghost Rider ends up choking Blackheart and giving him the penance stare. Blackheart then dies/gets blind. No secret powers, or dramatic final battle scenes, just a choke then a stare. That’s it, visual effects aside, horrible, horrible movie. Rating: D ) (there’s a rating?)

The evil council will live on! haha

Kung Pow!: Enter the Fist review by Rein coming soon!

Some day in June at CTC-202…

2:30 P.M…

I sat down and looked around the room. Who are these people?! I glanced at the dude to my left. He was listening to his iPod, but I extended my hand anyway, “Denis…” “Rein,” he answered and we shook hands. All right, at least I know one person here, let’s get to know more. Shortly after, the teacher had just figured out the seat plan. Rein was still to my left, but who was this dude to my right? “Hey, where you from?” I asked him.

“Cebu,” he said.

“What?! I’m from Cebu!” I answered with as much surprise as delight, and we gave each other a high-5-hand-shake.

It’s so different meeting someone from your province in Manila, as if there’s this invisible bond even if you never knew each other.  It’s pretty funny how Cebu’s such a small place and I never knew this guy. That guy was Jed, also known as Tito Domps, and both of these people would be my seat mates for the rest of the year. 

 –end of flashback–

If I could list down my most memorable R49 moments, this little memory here would be some where at the top. But apart from that, the countless laughs I had in that block would be found all around that list, from the hilarious vandalism on the chairs, to conversations about Kung Pow!, to just about everything under the sun. It turns out there’s a funny side to everything, and I mean everything. As to vandalism, strangely enough, the chairs change places every week or so. Well maybe there’s some reason to it, but for my part, it’s hilarious. I get to see new works of art on my armrest almost every week. 

Vandalism is just a gold mine of meaning. From what I learned in Lit class, this vandalism is just a form of expression, an representation and a re-presentation of society. Need a text mate!!! Text me at 0917-potanginamo. (Sure that’s not even 11 numbers, but who cares?) I came across a lot of graffiti such as the one above, and they showed me just how creative and productive someone could get when they’re bored. Push button for free cut/eject teacher/eject student (drawing of a button). Occasionally, I come across something so profound and deep that I wonder whether the author really thought about it or just wrote some song lyric stuck in his head that time. But anyway, at end of the sem, R49 had to disband, but there’s just one thing that I can’t forget in that block. The one most memorable experience, without a doubt. So let me tell you are story…

The first semester with En11 went by quickly enough, maybe because I was sleepy most of the time in class, or because we spent around half the sem going to Cubao for our magazine. BUT! The second semester, more importantly the second half of the second semester, was perhaps the most interesting and hilarious span of time in my freshman year. 

After the argumentative research paper, we had our reflection paper writing module. Mmm, reflection papers, I suppose that would be more interesting than an argumentative research paper. That was an understatement, as I would later find out. So before the first blog was posted, Ma’am Doplon distributed the little stubs of paper with super hero code names for the commentators. I had never tried this kind of thing before, so I was as excited as a ninja turtle was for a pizza. I stuck my hand in and drew a stub of paper. Iron Man. Hmm, not bad I thought, it’s a pretty cool name actually. That’s when it all began. Yes I am Iron Man, fo shizzle! And yes Arthur, I have been listening to your death threats. 

So then Sunday came along, the deadline for our first blog entries. The first topic was to do a profile of some guard at JSEC, Antonino Parnada. Ah, how could I forget the name? So we did our task, I wrote about Mr. Parnada, and so did my fellow groupmates. Come Monday, the class discussed about the recently posted blog entries and I found myself talking about a certain controversial blog entry entitled, “The Guard and I.” I had previously read that entry and the more I read it, the more I realized that it needed improvement. But I had kept that to myself and a few friends early on. Later that night, two new comments popped up on that blog, both praising him for job well done. Clearly, I thought otherwise. I couldn’t let this stand. He’ll probably never know that some people actually think that that blog entry needs a makeover? I can’t let this slip. So the next night, I thought of a comment and posted it as Iron Man. A comment that would change the whole blog forever. That comment was the spark that would set the blog ablaze.  

 One comment was all it took. 

From then on I lived two lives, Iron Man and me. I was the person who attended english and lit class. Iron Man stayed home reading the blogs, occasionally charging his photon cannon, which sometimes scares me when I get home. And after that comment was posted, it caused an outrage. A flood of other comments followed through peaking at 38+, almost 5 times more than in the other entries. Negative criticism really is a big issue huh. The reactions of people towards negative criticism are interesting as well. Humility and a willingness to change inspires respect. Censorship inspires disgust. Commentators came to condemn Iron man, labeling him as incredible, er not credible. That he is living in a fantasy world, and that he is weak. One person, by the name Steel, even goes as far to call Iron Man an asshole and a terrorist. But, as some came to condemn him, some came to support him. Commentators (curiously using superhero names that were not assigned my ma’am) came saying that he makes sense, and even adding their own opinion to the blog. Truth be told, I could not help but laugh after reading a transcript of the comments in this string. Who argues about the existence of a yeti?!

But, after a few days, the unthinkable happened. I believe it was a Wednesday when it did happen. The author of the blog gave a public apology to the class, telling them how pitiful Iron Man must be after reading his entry, “Nakakaawa naman si Iron Man.” I listened intently. Then gave a look to my friend Shuma Gorath and chuckled. What a speech. Shortly after, the author tells us that the comments have been deleted. Spam he says. That’s Stalin talking. Now, I would have been really upset by this sudden, outrageous act of blatant censorship but, luckily, I saved a transcript of the whole thing in my computer (^_^), and would later re-post it in another blog, formerly know as ir0n-man.livejournal.com. Think of it as a fist in the face of censorship. I chuckled once again. 

This little victory would be short lived, though. A few weeks ago, I received an email telling me that my Iron Man livejournal, which has been online for a couple of weeks already,  has been permanently suspended because the authorities have received word that my account was “created for the sole purpose of harassing another person.” No joke. Well, I don’t know if criticizing is the same as harassing, but apparently they are to someone. WHO COULD HE BE? And in spite of the occasional death threats I hear in class about Iron Man, and the constant IP tracking (track track na kita!), I had a blast. I gave some negative comments on his blog, and now he’s giving me death threats?? This is priceless! 

The sheer irony of this whole scenario was one of the reasons that fueled my enjoyment, despite the occasional “I’m going to find him and his family and kill them” statements in class. A person who is appalled by personal attacks/constructive criticism chooses to defame his commentator. A person who wants to be heard out advocates censorship. Isn’t that just absurd? Yes, It’s ridiculous. It’s hypocritical. It was actually quite funny. 

Thus ends the tale of Iron Man, my most memorable R49 moment. Iron Man was created in R49 and there will he remain. And besides, it’s no fun living a double life if the public  already know who your alter ego is. R49 has really been the most interesting bunch of people I’ve been with. Hahaha awwww. And to end this grand finalé of a blog, I’ll try to make a list of my most memorable R49 moments, aside from the ones I mentioned earlier. Goodbye english block!

1. The Paracale presentations

2. The Hamlet presentations…especially the gangsta one. Title? Denmark’s Most Wanted? Haha

3. Wherein

4. The activity where we had to bring one thing that we thought represented ourselves.

5. DEAR sessions.  

AND LIT CLASS! 6. The Battle for CTC-102

 Ok so I had to do it again. @_@

“Move your feet! Wait for the ball! Time your shot! Follow through!” my coach used to tell me in training, as he returned my forehand shot. Little did I know that those words would resound in my ears every time I stepped on the tennis court. I heard them at my first tennis tournament, at my training sessions, and now, in the final match of my PE tennis class. Whoever won this was to represent the class in the inter-class competition in culmination day. Could it be me? I thought to myself just as I threw a forehand cross-court shot to my opponent which was shortly greeted by the umpire’s voice, “Out!” 

Not good, I thought to myself as I wiped the sweat amassing on my brow. It’s a tie-break and the score’s at 6-1. The dude has five match points. One more point, one more error, one more slip and I’m out for good. Could it still be me?

I started playing tennis at around 10 with my dad as my first coach and my brother as my training partner. We went to train every Sunday at a tennis court nearby. We were just beginners so we started with the basic forehand and backhand drills. Then it happened. Whenever I messed up a shot, whether it was in the stance or the sloppy footwork, my dad would scold me. He’d pummel me with, “move your feet! Wait for the ball! Timing! Follow through!”

Calm down, I wanted to tell him, but I ended up messing up more and more times and consequently, got more and more sermons. Why do I put up with this? I said to myself. Why do I have to put up with these constant bombardments on my playing. I couldn’t understand it at my age back then, so I tried to stay away from it. I started to stay home on some sundays, but eventually I stopped playing altogether, and thought “At last, no more sermons.” But it wasn’t until six years till I finally understood everything.

Maybe it was divine revelation, like how the caveman discovered the use of fire, or maybe I was just bored, but four years after quitting, I gave tennis another go. This time my dad hired a trainer for me. Phew I thought to myself, I’m not going to get anymore of those sermons like when I was a kid. Bzzzzt! Then there it was, it came almost as fast as Andy Roddick’s serve. 

Move your feet!

Wait for the ball!

Time your shot!

Follow through!

Ugh, here it goes all over again, I thought. But instead staying home again, I tried a different approach. I actually tried moving my feet, to the point where I thought it was almost unnecessary. But I did it anyway, driven solely by the fact that I wanted my coach to stop telling me what my dad’s been telling me four years ago.

So day in, day out I did his drills, I hit forehands, backhands, serves, and volleys, and I bore the gleaming, stinging sun on my skin through it all. Two years went by with my training and I’ve still been trying to make my coach quit telling me the same things. But then, something totally caught me by surprise. I joined a tournament. 

My first match was under the 11 o’clock sun, and it was not forgiving. Sweat was falling down my body as fast as rain, and serving with the sun in your eyes was definitely annoying. Close your eyes I thought, maybe you might get lucky. 

“OUT!” The referee shouted. 

Okay, time for plan B. Now, plan B would have helped me a great deal if I only knew what it was. But it’s match point for my opponent; one more slip, one more error and I’m done. The only plan B I could think of was to pray that God might suddenly bestow upon me Roger Federer’s skill. Dream on, I can do this, I thought to myself, or else I’ll get another sermon from coach! But after I saw my forehand shot fly dangerously high, I knew it was over. And my suspicion was affirmed by umpire’s ever familiar call:

“OUT!” 

There it was. So we shook hands then I trudged to the bench, sat down, and dug my face into my towel after a long, deep breath. How did he win? How did I lose? Those were the first two of a thousand thoughts that rushed through my head that time, but my attention was diverted to only one observation. My opponent had a coach too, and I figured it was probable that he got scolded almost as much as me in his training sessions. And then suddenly, somehow, it all hit me, and I finally realized the meaning of all my coach’s words.

  Athletes are hardened through training, like steel is to fire. As some math teachers would say “no pain, no gain.” It’s not through unicorns and butterflies that athletes can dominate in their field. It takes dedication, self-sacrifice, and more importantly, humility. My opponent probably got more sermons than I did, and he probably took it better than I did, too. How could he be so skilled if his coach just pampers and gives him candy for training?

So I’m back at my final match in my tennis class. One point from defeat. Seven points from victory. What could I possibly do? Just play, I thought to myself, that helps. Move your feet. Wait for the ball. Time your shot. Follow through. 

Fifteen minutes and a couple of fist pumps later, I found myself at 7-6, with me serving for the match. I laughed deep down inside, “if only my coach saw me now, and what would he say?” I guess I would tell him how it ended.

I tossed the ball high, just enough to get a good look at it, then sent it deep cross-court. I noticed he got to return it, but it was high, a perfect winning shot. I sprinted towards the ball, the sun still gleaming and singing my skin. I waited for the ball. Timed it. Followed through. Then there it was, we shook hands. Game, set, and match. And after a deep breath and a silent fist pump, I went to sleep that night with the title of class champion, a seven point run to 8-6, from 1-6, how did I do that? 

Just for the record, I never won any tennis tournament, and this was the first time I actually got something to take back home after the game, so you can almost guess as to how happy I was then. I reminisced on all the times my coach shouted out those words, which so filled me with dread. Now I know he was just trying to bring out the best in me, but my pride had translated those words into insults to my playing style, which wasn’t even close to world-class. Now I know better, that I have to swallow my pride in order to walk on the path of self-improvement. And it took me seven years to learn that lesson. Better late than never right? Well, even when life might be up 6-1, and one more error might seem to knock you right out, wouldn’t it be refreshing to hear God say, after it all ends, “Game, set, and match – you win.” 

The final call for passengers was over and I already had my seatbelt on. The fasten-seatbelt sign wasn’t even on yet but I fastened it on anyway. I took out my iPod and looked at the other passengers. Some were passing by the aisles and placing the baggage at the overhead bins, others were reading the in-flight magazine, while the rest were just spacing out into the window. I don’t know what they were thinking, but I do remember what I was thinking about at that time. That was the first time I was leaving home to live without my family, I was on my way to Manila. 

I started riffling through some notes from my friends back home, which might have looked real emo if I started to slash my wrists along with reading them, but blades aren’t allowed on board. A lot of notes had the “Don’t change, stay the way you are” line at some part of it, but one other note, and I remember this accurately since it was the only note that said “Change for the better.” 

What is life without change? Without change, life is just some boring plane of existence where everything is what it seems. Change brings ups and downs wherever it goes, because a new change comes from some other change’s end. So there’s one thing in change that we all hate and love at the same time – that something has to end.

The first time I went to the States, I wished it would last forever. I loved the cool, crisp, air on my face, enormous toy stores, and the food, oh the food! It was an entirely new world. I was only seven years old then but I was already thinking of the little concepts behind change. I started to think about it when my parents told me, “Two more weeks then we’re back home.” Then it all collided, and I realized that this utopia would end, that all this was going to change.  

As the aphorism has it: the only thing permanent in this world is change. It’s really ironic how this is true, that the only unchanging effect is change itself. This makes me wonder about that note that said “Don’t change, stay the way you are.” Is change really that bad? Come to think about it, what would I be without change? I’d be boring, like a statue that just grows older. But I know, these kind of notes are usually polite versions of things that might sound offensive. This note for example might be translated into “Don’t turn into a jerk, stay nice.” 

  Perhaps that’s the prevailing attitude towards change in our society – the negatives are the first to be taken note of.  This isn’t all wrong to take negatives into account early, though. Thinking about the negative consequences are important in deciding to change, because sometimes you can’t get back that something before the change. There was a time when I had my own desktop computer back in the day, and I used it most of the time. Eventually I got bored of how it looked, especially the start up screen. So to fix this, I searched the internet for a theme that I could install to change this dull, monotonous start up screen. I finally found this video game theme that I installed, so now the start up screen is this poorly drawn cartoon terrorist that I thought was cool when I was 10. After three years I tried to uninstall it but I couldn’t, I couldn’t change it back because I didn’t look to far ahead, oh no!

  One thing that always sticks with change is that it’s never boring. Even in the case of negative change, it always catches your attention. So this leads me to think about what goes on in heaven. I suppose heaven isn’t a boring place, I think heaven is a place of constant change where everything is infinitely changing for the better. Sounds exciting if you think about it, things are always getting better, a little better all the time like that old Beatles song, that yesterday was never as beautiful as today, or today will never be as beautiful as tomorrow. 

  Changing for the better is a brighter and more optimistic way of looking at change than telling you not to change at all. It’s a more heroic way of viewing change as something that alters your personality. Instead of fearing it, you accept it and embrace it as a means to get better. It’s been around a year since my high school graduation, when my class had to split up for college. Some went abroad, some stayed behind, and some went to Manila, like me. So last December, nine months from our graduation,  I met up with some of my old friends from high school. One of them came all the way from Singapore, and other from the University of Asia and Pacific. Yeah, they had changed, living away from the family can be a big change in life. But what struck me more was that they still had the same quirks that I loved back in high school. It was like the same guy with an entirely new twist. So we had a long talk in a small Starbucks somewhere in Ortigas, where we caught up on many things and reminisced on all the things we used to do in high school.  

a living organism that feeds on organic matter, typically having specialized sense organs and nervous system and able to respond rapidly to stimuli

Imagine a world without balance. A world without laws, limits, or consequences. Could such a world exist? Beats me, but I’m not focusing on worlds in this entry, I’m more interested in this balance. The Chinese already had concepts about balance or duality hence the popular Yin and Yang symbol. And though I haven’t consulted any expert about this, I believe this balance is indeed universal. There always seems to be this universal balance governing us. This balance is described by expressions like “what goes up, must come down” and “what goes around, comes around.” But aside from physics, is there a supernatural balancing force that acts on us? In other words, is there really karma? As for me, I really believe karma is real, and that it works in subtle ways to reward and/or punish.

Just earlier today, this morning to be exact, I was struggling to get out of bed at 6:30 so I wouldn’t be late for Judo practice with Rein and Yogi at 8. Anyway, so I readied my clothes and set out from Cervini with my iPod to keep me company. Just when I was nearing the Cov Courts parking lot, something I least expected caught my eye – the view. It was spectacular with the tender, almond-tinted 7 o’clock light gently caressing the bark of the trees along the sidewalk, casting the long shadows of their tapered branches on the browning grass. Not many people consider this something to rejoice about, but, at that point, I considered myself lucky to see a sight like that. It’s amazing how something so simple could produce something so beautiful.

So what on earth has this to with karma? Well later today, as I was checking up on this blog, it appears someone has been deleting some comments AGAIN. I mean, I love democracy and all, especially the right to express oneself, but seeing this blatant act of censorship just sickens me. It sickens me to the core. Woe to all those who have been silenced by this mystery person. Personally, I enjoyed reading the comments at that blog. Anyway, going back to karma, I attributed this upset to counter my good fortune of seeing that particular scene this morning. Wait, but there’s more!

Last saturday I was at The Fort with my blockmates chilling in front of Pier One. Then as I was looking down, I saw two pieces of paper: one of them was an advertisement for some concert while the other one, folded, seemed to look like a 100P bill. I took it from the ground and looked at it closely, for it was dark in that area. It WAS a 100P bill. Now what are the odds of that? Me finding a 100P bill on the floor in The Fort before anyone else did? The odds are ridiculous. Ah, but there still is karma, and I was wondering what could possibly go wrong on a night like this. A couple of minutes later it rained (note that we were all formal because we just came from a debut), and Pier One was full. Looks like Nature has a sense of humor after all.

This one incident happened a long time ago, but it was one of the main events that influenced my belief that there is this karma-like force acting upon us. Back when I was in high school, I played Diablo II: Lord of Destruction online with my brother at Battle.Net. Things were going fine. We both got level 89-ish characters, but we were not satisfied. Our greed for items and runes was unsatiable; so we wanted more, more, more all the time. And that’s how the scamming started. We devised “scam tactics” where we could efficiently swindle an unwitting n00b of his precious items and laugh about it afterwards. Then we started scamming on our own. Things were going fine, business was good, but then something happened to my brother. He got scammed…BIG TIME. He lost one of his most precious runes and thus he told me about his “Theory of the Balancing Universe,” which he believes with all his heart (he still uses a maphack though). I believed it as well, since I, too, got scammed big time in Diablo.

Although karma is a Hindu belief, my being Catholic isn’t at all compromised by me believing in karma. In some ways it makes me think twice before acting. I think of karma as force that deals bad things to bad people, hence I stopped scamming people in Diablo II. Similarly, I believe karma can deal good things to good people. But for people who don’t do anything at all (like me in my first two anecdotes), karma is like a balance between good luck and bad luck, suffering and joy. An example would be when you devote a load of time helping your friend with, say, his paper, I believe that some joy will come to you in the future. So basically, I believe in a balance, or karma in my life, though I cannot prove it.

Random fact: the title of this entry is from the song Call it Karma by Silverstein

From ancient Rome to the present, the demand for people like him hardly goes down. In his palm rests your, our, safety. When he burst out of his mother’s womb on July 6, 1965, the fourth of the eight children, he knew little about what destiny had in store for him in the years to come. He is justice made manifest. He is the law. A man so hard his veins bleed ice, when he speaks he never says it twice*. He was trained to feel no fear, and to deliver swift justice to those who have the balls to test him. Sometimes bearing similarities to an agent of death, he is equipped with a revolver and with it, has six friends that could outrun even the fastest human. But if he is not in the mood to deliver death, he would rather ruin many a forgetful student’s day with his trusty pen and clipboard. His hazel-brown eyes conceal the sharpness that lies within. The same sharpness that many forgetful students curse, and that ADSA praises. He enjoys basketball if he can find the time. He also finds solace in the simple yet elegant game of chess, showing his mix of brains and brawn. From sunrise to sundown, he wears a uniform. A uniform of justice and order, with his faithful baton, gun, pen, and clipboard. His uniform sets him apart from everyone else. From the leather shoes that caress his quick feet, to the hat that sits on his skull. He patrols JSEC everyday. He’s watching…waiting. No one does it the way Antonino Parnada does it.

Like Ninoy:

• I am in Ateneo most of the time.
• I play chess.
• I play basketball
• I am not from Manila.
• My nickname has five letters.
• I like to wear shoes.
• I do not like people stealing, and lying, and parking in a no parking area.
• I despise people who masquerade as students and steal stuff.
• I do not like liars.
• I have a brother.