The Inexorable Twilight Post

If the world would end if I do not make a choice between the three "Twilight" movies, I sort of liked the newest offering, eclipse, the most. Seeing the first one, twilight, was like watching a music video of Paramore or My Chemical Romance. Imagine watching emo music videos for to (2) hours straight--that's a perfect recipe for a headache. The second one, new moon, was filled with film cliches and yes, boring as waiting for a Digitel Customer Service Representative to answer when you call them to report your notoriously faulty DSL connection. The third one, eclipse--a half hour script streched into two hours so moviegoers could finish their tub sized popcorns and megatron sized Pepsis--is surprisingly not half bad. I liked the drama between the jock werewolf, the outsider vampire and the slutty female lead. It's like watching Gossip Girl but with superpowers!

I only read twilight and after putting it down, I thought the writing was decent, but way short of spectacular, unlike the hype surrounding the series. Then they botched it in the first movie. Like I said, the writing in twilight was OK but it didn't make me want to read the next three (3) books. After seeing eclipse, however, I have to see the next and hopefully the last (oh dear God please) twilight movie before I die. Or get bitten by a blood-sucking female vampire who, if there is a preference, look like Cristine Reyes or Angel Locsin.

Post partum

Ut desint vires, tamen est laudanda voluntas (Although the power is lacking, the will is commendable.)

-Ovid

The Philippine election "fever" is finished. The masses have spoken. BSA, or rather as the man prefers it, "P-Noy" is the new president. Everybody seems to be happy. Everyone seems jolly and gay. Well, not everyone, but most people.

While I think it superficial, P-Noy's walang wang-wang (what a mouthful) policy is great--for most of us, at least. It's not too great for his security team--in fact, it's their hellish nightmare. It's great for those who would plan on doing an unthinkable thing which I dare not type here, but it's not too great for those people who were accustomed to acting (and feeling) like VIPs. Its not too great for the likes of BF, who travels all the time in black sirened SUVs on the wrong side of the road like they are in a hurry to save the world from an imminent alien threat or a catastrophic meteor collission. Perhaps P-Noy, by commuting like a commoner, would better understand the traffic situation in the Metro and through his experience, someone in his car would provide a suggestion for a remedy.

I haven't seen the presidential inauguration on TV. I didn't have the time. I was doing more important stuff. I was on a marathon. The 24 season 8 marathon on DVD. I just heard bits and pieces of P-Noy's speech on Mike E's radio program the next day while I was on my way to work. Everybody heard when P-Noy said we are his boss(es). I wonder if the farmworkers of Hacienda Luisita are included in that statement since he made no mention about agrarian reform, nor any substantial plan to make the country a better place. The parts of the speech I heard are still the same motherhood statements and platitudes which if you analyze the same, it has the same amout of meaning as Hey Diddle Diddle. Like all who went before him, of course, the Filipino masses (including this representation) is willing to give P-Noy the benefit of the doubt. I would be the happiest if he proves that he is worthy of his parents' names. We'll see.

How much money do I need? Part 1: The House

Let's see. I need money to build a decent home for my family. We already have a lot in Avida where we could build on, but not enough cash to build a home. I think about 5 to 7 Mil would do the trick. There ain't gonna be no swimmin' pools and gold doorknobs and shit. I plan to keep it homely as possible. It should be a "happy" house after all. Not a party house, no ma'am. I plan to build a home where my kids can grow to be good kids and away from all the evils and the cheapness of today's hooligan like youth culture. Anyway...

The top floor is to have a master's bedroom with a huge walk-in closet to store my lovely wife's armada of handbags from snotty companies like LV, RL, DB, Coach, etc.. The master's bedroom should also have a spacious bathroom to fit a couple of bookshelves for my Honda Tuning magazines and other interesting toilet reading. The bathroom must be big enough for me and my kids to brush our teeth at the same time. The master's should have a big wall-mounted TV set-up. I have to watch my Al Pacino & Robert de Niro DVDs somewhere. The master's bed should be big enough to help "make some magic happen." The top floor should have adjacent boys and girls rooms. My boy Andres and her little sister Amber must sleep sometime. Outside these rooms is a den, where my kids can do their school work, play their video games, and do whatever it is kids do those days. A veranda with a rocking chair where I could read the Sunday paper and smoke in peace would also be nice.

At the ground floor, the usual American/Western house scheme would suffice--kitchen, living room, dining table, maid's quarters, etc.,etc.. My wife could take care of that easy. I just want a basement office/library--that has an access to the garage, just like Tony's Soprano's. I want that room to be dark, in contrast to the rest of the house, to build a little mystery, perhaps. A couple of replica Juan Luna's would perhaps do the trick. Match those with some public library style stand up bookshelves and there you have it. Then the garage: I want an automatic garage door garage which houses two cars inside and a sheltered driveway large enough to park four more cars if needed. The inside space is for my project/show car and my saturday track car. The sheltered diveway is for me and my wife's daily drivers.

This is just for the house. Summary: 1 master's bedroom, two kid's rooms, den, veranda, living room-kitchen-dining, maid's quarters, 3 t/bs, basement office, garage.

Count as of the first money post: 5 to 7 Mil (PhP).

"I believe in philosophy." Hypatia of Alexandria said before the "Christian" religious leaders asked her on her religious beliefs if she had any.

Moses bought me a showerhead

One night last week, I was drinking, shooting some bull, and talking cars with my compareng Alex at this local beer joint when I bumped into a familiar-looking middle-aged man who knew my name. He had this salt-and-pepper-George-Clooney-type of hair and wore a tie-dyed shirt and the frayed remains of an extremely old pair of Levi's. Despite of his straight from the sixties look, however, the man looked and smelled clean. In fact, he smelled like Paco Rabanne.

"Jorge" the man called out when he saw me for the first time after his first trip to the john. He did not call me "attorney" or "sir" which I have become conceitedly accustomed to, so I assumed that this guy knew me before I passed the bar exams.

I waved. The man approached our table and said, "You don't recognize me do you?"

"Of course I do." I lied. My wife told me it has become my hobby--lying. It's way too comfortable. I did it mainly to escape awkward moments like this, as I don't like being aggravated too much.

"God has told me all about you. It's like you've become his new pet prophet of sorts." said the strange man.

Upon the mention of God, I realized that this dude was a biblical character. I've already met Michael the archangel, and something told me that this feller is not an angel on Jacob's ladder. Or one who fell from it. But I stil can't place the dude.

"I am Moses." the man declared.

Alex, who was minding his cellphone that moment raised his head and looked at Moses and was only able to sarcastically utter "Wow..."

I already believed the guy when he said he was Moses but Alex didn't. He took it as a big joke from a drunk, perhaps drug-crazed hippie.

"You? Moses?" asked Alex.

Moses did not answer.

"'Lex, he's Moses. The Moses Moses." I tried to explain.

"Wow." I could see in his face that his sarcasm was already seemingly mixed with a bit of confusion.

"Bullshit." said Alex. I wouldn't believe it too if I haven't met God Almighty Himself during law school.

"Jorge, your friend does not believe." said Moses. "Perhaps I could convince him, if you couldn't." Moses continued.

"What the hell, er, I mean heck...go ahead, go crazy." This is going to be a long night, I thought. I pulled out a chair and asked Macy, our waitress, to give Moses a beer.

"If you're Moses, you can turn your staff into a snake. Tangina, you dont even have a staff..." Alex challenged the biblical man.

"Staff? That's so old school. So B.C.! (Before Christ) I ditched that thing a long time ago. But don't worry, I still have this." Moses took out from his pocket what looked to me as a black chrome vibrator-the discreet looking kind which did not actually looked like a fuckin' penis. WTF does Moses have a vibrator? Anyways, he turned it on and placed it at the table. A few moments after, and for a split-second, it seemed that the mist of the gods of Olympus blinded our eyes and the thing turned into a wiggly black mamba--one of the world's most venomous snakes.

"Moses, by Jove, put that thing away!" I almost yelled. The cashier at the bar mockingly looked at me as if I was a sissy girl.

"Fuck!" Alex was surprised for a moment but after a minute or two after Moses-the deliverer changed the snake back into a vibrator, Alex regained his skeptical composure. "That's one fine trick! Was that David Blane or Criss Angel?"

"You remind me of my brother Ramses, Alex." said Moses. "Let me try another. Macy, can I get a beer mug?" Alex and I were drinking straight from the bottle.

Moses filled the mug with ice water and dropped the vibrator thingy inside. It seemed silly. Then Moses stirred it with his middle finger, the vibrator twirling inside the water-filled mug. The water turned red, and after a few seconds, the liquid was no longer water. It turned to blood.

"God," I gasped. "Do you really have to do that, dude?" I turned to Moses. "I was about to order some crispy dinuguan..." The latter BTW, tastes exquisite.

"You must be a magician. Not a very good one, but still, you're entertaining...If we just have a deck if cards here, I'll show you my own tricks, cool tricks, not that water color bullshit you just pulled..." retorted my friend Alex. Moses sighed in frustration.

"Ok, here's another one to prove I am who I say I am..." Moses started again.

"No locusts, old man, we're at a restaurant." I interrupted. Moses did not even flinch.

"Take out your cellphone." Moses ordered Alex.

Alex yielded and got his cellphone out from his front jeans pocket. He held it up and Moses blew on it, like one would blow a candle on a birthday cake. The Sony-Ericsson transformed into a huge grasshopper the size of a NYC sewer rat.

In his surprise, Alex lost hold of the giant grasshopper, it dropped to the ground and a split-second before it actually hit the floor, it turned back into a cellphone. Well, it used to be a mobile phone. It shattered on impact, as if the same was frozen with nitro.

"What the fuck?!?" Alex, who is a deep-rooted Bulakenyo, cursed in American. I looked at him as if to say "See dude, I told you he's Moses." I thought he'd get what I did not have to say but then he started picking up pieces of his used-to-be cellphone from the floor and when he was done, he sort of slammed the parts into the table and said "You're paying for this, geezer, or else..." as if he could actually threaten a biblical prophet.

"So let it be written, so let it be done." said Moses. He picked up the vibrator-thingy and jabbed it at Alex's head, just a little above his right ear. Alex litteraly froze. Stranger things may have happened to others, but this is the strangest and most wicked shit I have ever seen. Alex's right earlobe grew a shower head, and from it coursed jets of lukewarm water. As I was sitting right beside the non-believer, I received a good dose of spray.

"Fuck you, Moses! Fuck you." I said. "You really have to do that sort of shit, don't you?" I continued as I wipe myself with the hankerchief my lovely wife placed at my left rear pocket that morning.

Thereafter, Moses broke the showerhead and handed it to me. Alex regained consciousness but was a tad catatonic.

"Now I hope you believe, you dumb fuck!" said the deliverer to the non-believer.

Alex then grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it at Moses' head. Moses collapsed on the floor.

"Now we can finally drink in peace, pare." Alex turned to me.

"Peace. Yes...To peace" I offered a toast, as Moses, adopted child of the Great Pharoah's sister, the deliverer of the Jews from captivity in Egypt, the bearer of God's Ten (10) commandments, and drop dead look-a-like of a young Charlton Heston, lied on the floor, head cracked open and bleeding.

"Fuck Moses." Alex said. "We ain't Jews anyway."

"Fuck Moses." I followed suit and drank my pilsen.

To those who believe, no proof is necessary, and to those who don't, no explanation is ever enough.