These days, the vision's clear but appeared out of focus. Voices seemed shielded, spoken from behind some fabric. Muffled. It's even harder to try to process mood of the whole affair.
How nice if we'd just agree to everything: life's principles, finances, decisions. Yes, you and I. Our thoughts effortlessly meld. We nod in a split seconds. Kiss and promenade in the dreamy rays. When hunger sets in, we take a bite out of each other. The thigh today. The arms tomorrow. Careful, it's a little tough there. The ribs the day after. Yes love. The world's ours.
Oops! Too much Walking Dead I reckon. And it's not even possible that two people are the same. Guess everyone's gotta work hard where the heart matters.
Weeks and months of wearing drudgery, I'd like to think that I'm on the final lap. During my intermission in the past week, I had the time to mope about the mall to see if I can find something suitable to add to the existing wardrobe.
Wearing the same clothes for two or three years, it's time for a change. Not that I mind but it's the skin showing at awkward places that makes for an unsightly glimpse. Despite the "SALE", it costs so much. I went home with images of "DISCOUNT" and "-00.00" swimming in my head. But the thing that lingered on was the music. Put "Santa", "baby", "kiss" in a sentence and ta-daa! Horrendous.
Reindeers, candy canes, bells, and snowflakes abound. So this is Christmas.
On an unrelated note, I finished a movie-length video. My first in so many months. It wasn't A Christmas Carol (unrelated to Christmas remember?). It's WWE Tribute to the Troops! Yes, yes. I watch wrestling. It was our favourite pastime (watching pay-per-views in our richer classmate's home) back in school. Executing those moves seemed silly now but it was great fun then. Lucky we didn't break anything; silica- or calcium-based).
I don't have cheesy Xmassy songs to share but I have Nickelback's When We Stand Together. The theme song for WWE TTTT. Nevermind it was (and still is) make-believe. Kayfabe. Scripted. I treasure this 120 minutes of staying away from my keyboard and having occasional flashbacks to that time when we "layeth the smacketh down".
The live performance by the band, and the video montage and oral tributes to the US troops were moving. President Obama made a taped appearance too.
Enjoy the song, people. It's one of those rare occasions I enjoy "noisy" songs like this one. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!
This time around I thought I should speak for myself. If 2 years ago I wrote about "us" remembering, I'm not sure if "we" was well-defined.
Ten years ago on this day (it's already night time here, a little past 10 pm), my friend mentioned something about a plane, a building, and an explosion he heard from another person.
"It must be some urban warfare but where? Fighting in the Kosovo War ended some time back," I thought to myself. I now know it ended in 1999.
It all became clear over the next few days and ten years on, who doesn't recognize images of smoke billowing from the World Trade Center or the clip where the plane slammed into the building?
September 11, 2001 meant different things to different people.
For me, it sort of renewed my interest in conflicts around the world and studying why people did it. What was going on in their head when they planned to make headlines and taking lives – sometimes their own – in the process? From Jonestown to Oklahoma City; Waco, Texas; Madrid; London; Mumbai; or Beslan, Russia, we've often asked why they did it. What drives them? I guess we'd never get a satisfying answer.
I have a folder in my computer full of pictures, tribute videos, recorded phone calls, and saved copies of websites detailing the chronology of events both in and outside New York City. I remember getting all teary watching one clip in the middle of the night and reading about Flight 93*. It goes without saying that I watched (and I know I have to) United 93 when it was released in 2006.
Life goes on, as it always does, and this day like many other dates, is a reminder of the evil that human beings are capable of. It is also one that highlights the tenacity of the human spirit in the face of a horrifying adversary.
Try as I may, I will never be able to comprehend, fully, the grief felt by those who have lost their loved ones on that fateful day. But Americans remember. The world remembers. I remember.
*I'm glad to know that this page is still available online.
____________________
I'm not going to try and justify the events that took place following 9-11 but I know that the whole world felt it. War isn't a beautiful thing and it affects everyone. It is depressing to know we have to tighten our belts to save for fuel.
It took about 90 minutes to remove my particularly deep and stubborn tooth. The reason I’m typing this is to get my mind off the dull, throbbing pain. Gosh! It’s annoying and I don’t want to pop too many pills within two hours.
Man, it’s not nice at all. My mind’s empty and my fingers are hitting the key nearly randomly. Ok, not random or else you’ll get smoetinhg lkie tihs. Now I’m being absurd. I can’t think clearly and I’m hungry.
It’s fortunate that the blood’s clotted. Let’s hope the swelling is minimal over the next couple of days. I remember the green garb put over my face with a square hole for my mouth to be exposed. Are holes square? Or are they round? Or is it circle because there’s a hole? It’s rather terrifying to be able to hear but not see a thing.
The pint-sized dentist was gentle but boy, she’s strong. After the sectioning, she’d pluck them out. Pluck(?!) I’m losing my marbles. I didn’t have any to begin with (literally-speaking). The sound of the tooth sections being separated from the alveolar bone was sickening.
I looked at what I typed and I thought to myself, my being disorderly; funny and never happened when I write. No, when I type.
Did I mention that I sent a few text messages out and didn’t manage to read them? For the next 87 minutes, I was hoping the tooth fall out soon. Feeling the familiar soft fibers brushing my lips was soothing. Calming.
“She is suturing ground zero.”
The rest needs no further description. Pain still lingers. Not good. And I’ve finished my rather fragmented thoughts; much like what I saw when she laid out my tooth – or what’s left of my tooth – after the procedure.
And oh, scenes from Saw (film) kept playing in my mind. Gosh!
Thank you Dr. Aswani and we'll see you during Kak Mimi's Raya open house.
The show's just ended days ago (I know I'm late *smiles*) and I enjoyed the finale as much as I did the whole season. Finalists Marlee Matlin and John Rich played for the Starkey Hearing Foundation and St. Jude Children's Research Hospital respectively.
Have a look at their charities and the "world premiere" of For The Kids. Nice.
Edit: The processed videos aren't that crisp compared to the ones in AVI format I have in my computer. Too bad.
Rigsby and Van Pelt's dialogue in The Mentalist. Aww! Poor Wayne. From the day they called it off to the day when Grace announced her engagement to Craig O'Loughlin, you can see the pain and sadness written all over his face.
Anyway, I find this one memorable. I'm into dialogues lately. I even have something planned. We'll see.
Rigsby: Wait, there's one more thing: I'm sorry but I'm not going to be at your wedding. Van Pelt: Oh? [Van Pelt sighs] Van Pelt: That's too bad. You have something else planned for that day? Rigsby: No,you see the problem is: I'm still in love with you. Van Pelt: You can't- Rigsby: Hold on. I'm not trying to win you back. You're marrying a good man. That's not gonna change. But neither am I. This whole thing where we pretend we're just friends, it doesn't work. I don't know what will work. But I know one thing: I can't watch you marry another man.
[Rigsby steps toward Van Pelt and lowers his voice]
Rigsby: You have a good day, and a good life.
[Rigsby kisses her and walks away]
Season 3, Episode 21 –Like A Redheaded Stepchild
Here's the scene. Sunday night and nothing much to do, hence, this post.
There's something magical, sometimes, about the piano; it's enrapturing if not somnorific...
I tried my best to see, hear, and feel each episode of the series "My Life in Retrospect". Each episode varies in duration; the shortest being about 5 minutes and the longest, well, the longest yet took roughly 30 minutes. There was no commercial and like many downloaded media, I have the freedom to pause before continuing.
I couldn't, and would never, tell if others share the same positive evaluation of My Life in Retrospect since CSI, Bones and the like could easily win over a large number of audience, possibly leaving me and a few others as the only "fan" of Life. Since I began following it, Life has many heartwarming stories as well as its share of despondency. After all, Life is life confined to the limits of what's possible in this world; nothing spectacular like Legion or Universal Soldiers, just an ordinary slice of life tale scripted from the mind of the writer.
Each episode usually begins with a piano piece and ends with the same; difference being the gist of the episode which would then determine the mood of the song. Sometimes it'd be Sunday Afternoon Waltz (Yiruma) and at other times, melodies like Kiss the Rain (Yiruma). I'd suggest that they be looked up on the net. Great melodies.
Hitherto, two memorable episodes of Life would be Ephemeral Joys of Childhood on the tale of the protagonist's growing up years through high school and another would be Regrets: I've Had A Few; which I believe the title is self-explanatory. Everyone could relate to the story of the growing up years; the shrills of gaiety and the smiles carved on a carefree toddler. Then the all too familiar life in high school packed with stories of mischief, punishment, puppy love, and friendship – all serve to build character and to add to the fascination of posterity when it’s retold in time to come.
Like many, the story of Regret is one with an ending that’s painfully honest: you can’t turn back time. For some lucky ones, they’re given a second and maybe, a third time to get it right. For others, they have only one shot and they’d have to live with it the rest of their life. Regrets come in many ways, it could be things not done when it should’ve been done. Either that or things which were done, and done wrong on hindsight. Guilt can, and does, bring a man down to his bed; head buried in his pillow and soaked it with tears.
I’ve mentioned, as if to add to the moment, the piano melodies (and sometimes pop songs) accompany the stories. I have to note, though, that screening of each episode is irregular.
Like a dream, I tried recapturing every moment of every episode and then replay them every now and then. But then again, it’s less surreal than a dream. It’s free from artificiality. It’s real. It’s reality. And instead of dreaming about them, I lived them. I laughed and I cried. When the music plays, tears are still streaming down my cheeks and the careless countenance of the sepia years are now more rugged and lined with the burdens of adulthood.
I’ve been there and done that. Cheers to the best part of teenage life. And to regrets, I’ll always remember.
Author: For those who have reached the end and still wonder what kind of television show Life is about, there's no such series. Ever.
The following is the translation to the song Russkiy Paren based on Westmeier's Alone in Four Walls. Although the song is titled Russkiy Paren (Русский парень) or Russian Guy, I'd go with "lad" as per the wordings from the film itself. [Download link below]
Hello my sunshine, I'm writing to you from the battlefield. The crows are circling overhead, only I'm in no hurry to die.
We'll still go out together, we'll dance under the night sky. When I've done my service I'll come home, and you'll tell your friends:
[Chorus] "A Russian lad doesn't run away from bullets. A Russian lad doesn't groan in pain. A Russian lad doesn't burn in fire. A Russian lad doesn't drown in water."
Our family will be gathered once again, maybe not so soon. We will play the guitar and sing of love, embrace and not hide our tears.
The rocket has flown up in the sky again, and I'm far from home. I want you to wait for me, I'm coming back to you, believe me.
Lyrics: Sergei Sashin, Music: Kim Breitburg
Edit 2011: Figured I should put the song up for any interested person to get it. Link to Google Docs.
I made myself comfortable in bed, propped up against the headboard by two pillows, surrounded by walls where the pictures hang. The wall light is right across from where I'm sitting. To the left is a small window and a curtain. It was warm and secure.
The documentary began and it was some time before we see adults coming into the frames. I met Lyosha who just got to there, the juvenile detention centre, chronicling his new life there. He was sobbing in between the interview and said, "I just want to go home, that's all".
There's Tolya who got sent in there for murder; who spoke on his life and his wishes when he got out. Like him, many others echoed that they wish to lead a good life when they get out. The scene then changed to a scene quite similar to the ones I see on TV except that the weather is cold and windy Russian climate with rolling hills in the distance.
Parents of these boys have mixed feelings about them but they look sad and I think they really wanted them back. When I say parents, it means father and mother but in the interview, it's either the father or the mother that was interviewed. Not the ones we see often in other films/documentaries where mom and dad sat on a couch next to a table with, maybe, flowers and a beautiful wallpapered wall behind. No, the parents aren't dressed in suits and mom doesn't put on make ups nor braid their hair. She just simply tie up their hair and don something to protect against the elements.
The boys are a precocious lot. They speak in a way reflecting adults and if I didn't look at the subtitles (the language's Russian) the words they use reflect their maturity. Perhaps life brought out that thinking? I can't answer that.
I also meet Vitya, an adorable guy with puffy cheeks you'd want to pinch. According to him, the medicine he got from a mental institution gave him that puffy cheeks. Like others, I could see the little boy in him. His, when he was at the dentist's chair and when she was about to extract a tooth, he turned away and cried; reminiscence of myself. A difference is I know mom is either by my side or outside the room. The dentist (assuming that she is although she look more like a nurse from the Health Ministry, Malaysia) then played the role of mom, talking to him and then extracting the tooth and then soothing the poor boy - chin on his head and her wrist on his face.
Poignant.
Who's to blame? The system? Parents? The boys? I don't know. Everyone maybe? But I think most of the responsibility rests on the parents. It's true you have to work your posterior off but take some time off and read to your child, not in some place where you drink away and then staggering home to beat up your wife and child.
The best part of the film? When I see smiles on their face. Every once in a while, I'd see that smile; embarrassed, happy, retrospective and some hopeful. Towards the end, the boys sang Russian Lad and I'm sure they know what the wordings meant (I'll look up the English translation shortly). Not as nice as Alexei Goman but original. At the end, I see each of them smile again as the camera go from left to right. To those watching this part, would they have known these are the faces of juvenile detainees sent there for various crimes?
Everyone sees in them only criminals, and forgets that they are children. Children who never had a childhood.
Some of the inmates we meet are serving time for theft, some for murder - but filmmaker Alexandra Westmeier lets us spend enough time with them to see beyond their hard man exteriors to the scared boys within. She also provides glimpses of their home lives, and we begin to realise that, for these children, prison is often an easier place to be. For the first time in their young lives, they no longer have to fight for their daily existence; they can simply be what they are--children.
-Youtube video (above) info
The sun sets and I see the following:
91% of these children will end up behind bars. This time in a prison for adults.
It's the year end and I suppose I deserve a break from work and the vanity of power struggles in the human world. And no, I'm not a Twilight fan; just played an accompanying chevalier (also Chevalier) to a major Edward Cullen fan. Seriously, that guy is kinda pale (guess that's what he should look like) and melancholic.
Enter Alice Cullen (Ashley Greene). When I saw her in school, things doesn't seem laid back or slow anymore. Boy, am I glad to see her again when she returned to Forks. I guess I'm eagerly waiting for June next year. Before that, Salt, Avatar, Lightning Thief, The Last Airbender...
A creative way of using numbers, math and the like in the scripts of Harold and Kumar: Escape from Guantanamo Bay. No praises or abuses but I find it better than Scary Movie. Square root of three... I'd never have thought of it up to this point. No thanks, in part, to my dislike for numbers. But I love The Oxford Murders to bits! Some say it's credited to David Feinberg but whoever composed that, it's clever. Here goes, behold the Theodorus' constant:
I fear that I will always be A lonely number like root three A three is all that's good and right Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath a vicious square-root sign? I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick With just some quick arithmetic
I know I'll never see the sun as 1.7321 Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When, hark, just what is this I see? Another square root of a three
Has quietly come waltzing by Together now we multiply To form a number we prefer Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds And with a wave of magic wands
Our square-root signs become unglued And love for me has been renewed
We were in Paris where Ratatouille cooks And then across 16 Blocks to evade crooks We then jumped upon Jack Bauer in Mirrors And thence partaking in a Coffin ritual that gave us shivers
All is well and we travelled to Madagascar too Many more were planned but now flushed down the loo It'd be some time before we travel Or maybe never will - time unravel
Before anyone Bolt-ed into conclusion And call this a packed Body of Lies Let's not give in to recrimination Rather, cherish what we once had in the good times
The Day the Earth Stood Still Happens not because of my will Rather, I just never will be perfect For your love for me to be a fact
I thought I know All About Women Not making the distinction between Angels and Demons To The Uninvited aboard the ship Hire Watchmen; an advice you should heed For I'm all Fired Up for retribution, it ain't spurious Make no mistake, it'll come Fast and Furious
