island man - jose marte abueg
Waiting to conclude our contract I began
to understand that the boatman cared little
for or perhaps had no notion of endings.
On reaching shore the first thing he did
was not to collect the fare, which I had ready
in my hand, but to go directly where the other
boatmen were gathered and tell them how
like the broken line he began to draw in the sand
we had lost our way in the sudden downpour.

Two connected pieces of a thin line drawn
with a stick, so basic it could seem nothing else
had ever been sketched on sand. As he moved
his sturdy arm I noticed he wore no watch. Likely
cared little, too, for time (except to catch a fare;
that morning he was outside waiting at least an hour
and forty-five minutes before our appointed time).
Perhaps had no notion, either, of scene and landscape.

In the boat he had shown no sign and I had
no inkling that the severe hour of downpour
had veered us away from our path, to which he
quietly brought us back. The path ultimately
took me where I found empty sand and trees
darker than the sea. But the boatman, he found
a story to tell. As more people gathered around him
he continued to tell it, his boat far from view. After
he sketched our broken path and the path of wind
he stood up, filled all the space, his voice strong.

[ webpage ]
  commerce and the man - ricardo m. de ungria
Today’s Market-in the-Loop finds the poet sitting
by the only table between the stalls.
White hair, crossed legs, cigarette in shaky hands
and a pacific professional half-smile
(unpoetlike, a gift from cheery depths)
indicate a daily serious business at hand.
He suns himself in the mid-morning
give-and-take of shopper and seller,
the paper bags flapping open, money
changing hands, the smell of barbecue
fighting off the piscene fumes from the fish shop.
Some come prepared with lists, while others pick
on the spot, helped by their wives’ mnemonics.
They might know him by hearsay or by sight,
but they try to politely ignore him.
They can’t know possibly what to say to him,
or how approach him best without dissolving
the spell he seems lost in. And besides,
what has poetry to do with produce?
Their hands move past the bruised tomatoes
and into the okras and peppers and beans,
or else lift bananas to check on ripeness
and spots.

            Yet they eye him from where they stand,
struck by his solitude’s unstirring gaze,
to see if he has caught on to their lives
and arrived at a good-old-rule-of-heart or two.
They feel absorbed in some ungospel truth,
some form of shapelessness they’re living out
this very moment in someone else’s eyes.
They feel contingent and cared for, eventful
and serviceable, themselves and not themselves.
Even the most philosophical and most revised
of them will say, This must be how it is—to be
just a word taking place among the human elements,
trying to mean even when no one is looking.
What life could I be leading in the poem
he is now making? What exception or rule
do I begin to share with that woman with zucchinis,
or this french bread, or those jars of mustard,
or the price tags stapled on the wooden beams?
When he gets up to go, what of me does he bring?
Will he write his poem? Can I recognize myself
when I read it? Can I say at least
I was there? Is there life after the poem?
Should it matter to me, or to anyone here?

When he pays and gets his change and takes his bag,
he looks again and sees the poet gone.
It’ll be the death of me, he thinks, when I find
my thoughts expressed but clearer in his thoughts,
and my very words said in his own words
but more precise and musical than I
myself could ever manage. Then can I say
we’ve finally met without formal
introductions? or that we gave and we took
without real advantages? How can I
live my life placidly again? Already
I feel like a real living poet
but without the poet’s way with words. But
thank God it’s all over now. The world’s at large
again and this just another morning.

[ webpage ]
  a professor of english writes a letter - daguio
A Professor of English Writes a Letter
by Amador T. Daguio [ webpage ]

I tell you, Len Casper, I can talk now
GuIlibly and even write you this letter.
Hard though English meanings be, I blow
My hands—and it will no longer matter.

My heart feeling still with the young, the keel
Of its passion will be toughened by time,
And I have moved wills; modem steel
I can fashion earnestly for any ancient rhyme.

So I talk of my students—or to them?
Ali, that’s the “rub.” They understand
What might be got, if they would hem
In a thought or two, but will they hand

In their homework? They guiltily smile,
Shy as caught lobsters, and say
They have bought no books, while
They go on thinking courses are a kind of play.

So I patiently point to them each unseen meaning
Beyond their ken, say to them the future
Is not a wish but a leaning
Upon act, then shaped to the suture

Of separate parts: a relation of form.
And they look not even surprised; then
Someone rises and wriggles like a worm:
Sir, what’s the use of struggling among men?

Answer, that, I throw back to the class,
Only to witness surprised confusion. Aye—
It’s good to look at eyes shining like glass,
At some attempts too shocked to answer why.

Challenge? The class bell rings. All suddenly rise
To sing the national anthem. The stillness gropes,
And one wonders if the sudden question of rice
Will drive them toward cold terrors of hope.

For what? I walk to the next room, the next task;
It’s never finished—the struggle, the shame,
The guilt. Whose? Who of them shall ask
Himself? And, daily, it shall be the same.
  movie review: Imelda
one more movie to see, ahahaha. ...

For a Regal Pariah, Despite It All, the Shoe Is Never on the Other Foot
By Stephen Holden
Published: June 9, 2004

Correction appended at the end of this article.

If there's a useful lesson to be gained from studying the life and career of Imelda Marcos, it is a demonstration that if you act like royalty and believe that you are royalty, the world will treat you as royalty. All it takes is ego, show business savvy and a barrel of bald-faced chutzpah.

In Ramona S. Diaz's documentary portrait "Imelda," Mrs. Marcos, the former first lady of the Philippines, proudly refers to herself as a star. She repeats the words beauty, truth and love so many times in the extended interview around which the movie is spun that they become a kind of self-protective mantra. Of those three words, beauty is by far the most important. Mrs. Marcos, after all, is a former beauty queen whose looks carried her far. (The movie opens today at Film Forum in New York.)

Now in her 70's, she's still a handsome woman with the bearing of a monarch. Her obsession with beauty extends to everything that touches her. Recalling an assassination attempt in 1972 by a right-wing fanatic wielding a machete, she complains that a machete is such an "ugly" weapon.

Last year the Philippine Supreme Court found her guilty of funneling more than $600 million from the Philippine government into Swiss bank accounts and awarded the entire amount to the government. She also faces 150 other court cases. But even under siege she projects an unruffled regality. When her troubles are mentioned, the strongest emotion she can muster is a huffy indignation that her motives might be thought anything but noble.

To exist in the bubble of grandiosity that surrounds Mrs. Marcos is to live free of shame or guilt. She justifies her legendary spending on shoes and hand-embroidered gowns by asserting that the mass of poor people in the Philippines needed her as role model and inspiration for pursuing a better lifestyle. In the movie's daffiest moments she outlines her simplistic cosmology in childish sketches.

As a personality study "Imelda" is a devastating portrait of how power begets self-delusion. It must be said, however, that through it all Mrs. Marcos exudes considerable charm and even a flickering sense of humor. When she is shown posing dramatically in front of her dead husband's open coffin, it's clear that her show business canniness never deserts her.

As a documentary that digs for new political dirt, however, "Imelda" offers no new revelations. Aside from the interview, the movie is a straightforward biography of Mrs. Marcos and the history of the Philippines since World War II.

We learn that she married Ferdinand Marcos, the future president, only 11 days after meeting him, and that her campaigning among the poor is credited as instrumental in his winning the presidency at age 36. After his inauguration, on Dec. 30, 1965, the Marcoses presided as the country's first couple for 20 years. Their honeymoon with the press and the United States government lasted well beyond the 1960's. At one point Life magazine pantingly dubbed Mrs. Marcos "the Jackie Kennedy of Asia." The vintage film clips of Mrs. Marcos charming world leaders, from Richard M. Nixon to Col. Muammar el-Qaddafi, suggest that at one time she exerted considerable diplomatic clout.

But the tide turned against the couple in the 80's. In 1986 Marcos was defeated for the presidency by Corazon C. Aquino, and the Marcoses were forced to leave the country. Ferdinand Marcos died in Honolulu in 1989. Two years later his wife was allowed to return to Manila to bury him.

Mrs. Marcos offers some amusing anecdotes. She recalls meeting Gen. Douglas MacArthur and singing "God Bless America," substituting "the Philippines" for "America." Irving Berlin, who was on hand, objected, and that night composed an alternative anthem for her to perform the next day.

After the assassination attempt, Mrs. Marcos recalls, she dedicated herself to leading a "totally selfless" life. Just how selfless is a matter of interpretation, and the movie refrains from judgment. Were the many grand structures she built, including a film center that was never used, created for the public benefit? Or were they monuments to herself, the manifestations of a condition that one commentator wryly describes as "an edifice complex"?


Produced and directed by Ramona S. Diaz; in English and Tagalog, with English subtitles; director of photography, Ferne Pearlstein; edited by Leah Marino; music by TAO Music, Grace Nono and Bob Aves; released by Unico Entertainment. At the Film Forum, 209 West Houston Street, west of Avenue of the Americas, South Village. Running time: 103 minutes. This film is not rated.

Correction: June 12, 2004, Saturday

A film review on Wednesday about "Imelda," a documentary on Imelda Marcos, misstated the age of her husband, Ferdinand, when he was elected president of the Philippines in 1965. He was 48 (36 was her age at the time).
  let's admit this here: we ...
let's admit this here: we r always in cafes 4 what reason? 2 b served! haha. it satisfies our fetishlike craving 4 attn. haha! :)

  with a little food, i ...
with a little food, i feel better! :) jamba rocks. tho yng baked things usually nila r gross, haha-pizza protein stick, ne1?

  i'm so tired right now. ...
i'm so tired right now. watching 'chasing amy.'trying 2 relax. just came frm phil n candy's wedding. :) hay! happy now. more l8er.

  against happiness - ny times
ahahaha... writer takes stab at why life is unfair.

some people just want to find reasons why they are sane the way they are... at least, that's how i look at it. :-P there's always a way to twist things around so they're in your favor. i haven't yet read the whole article, but i will... that's why i copied and pasted the damn thing here in the first place! :-P

The Way We Live Now
June 20, 2004
New York Times [ webpage ]

Against Happiness
By Jim Holt

Poll: Is happiness overrated?

Yes: 48%
No: 52%

This informal survey and its results are not scientific and reflect the opinions of only those who have chosen to participate.

Sad people are nice. Angry people are nasty. And, oddly enough, happy people tend to be nasty, too.

Such (allowing for a little journalistic caricature) were the findings reported in last month's issue of Psychological Science. Researchers found that angry people are more likely to make negative evaluations when judging members of other social groups. That, perhaps, will not come as a great surprise. But the same seems to be true of happy people, the researchers noted. The happier your mood, the more liable you are to make bigoted judgments -- like deciding that someone is guilty of a crime simply because he's a member of a minority group. Why? Nobody's sure. One interesting hypothesis, though, is that happy people have an ''everything is fine'' attitude that reduces the motivation for analytical thought. So they fall back on stereotypes -- including malicious ones.

The news that a little evil lurks inside happiness is disquieting. After all, we live in a nation whose founding document holds the pursuit of happiness to be a God-given right. True to that principle, the United States consistently ranks near the top in international surveys of happiness. In a 1994 survey of 41 countries, only the supposedly dour Swedes surpassed us in ''positive affect.'' (Elaborate scales have been invented to measure individual happiness, but researchers admit that difficulties remain; for example, a person is more likely to express satisfaction with his life on a sunny day than on a cloudy one.) Of course, happiness has always had its skeptics. Thinkers like Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn have criticized it as a shallow and selfish goal. But the discovery that happiness is linked to prejudice suggests a different kind of case against it. Does happiness, whether desirable or not in itself, lead to undesirable consequences? In other words, could it be bad for you, and for society?

The burgeoning new science of happiness hasn't paid a lot of attention to this question. Its practitioners are more concerned with the causes of happiness than with its effects. Defining happiness as ''well-feeling'' -- being satisfied with life, having episodes of joy -- they have discovered some interesting things: a large part of happiness seems to be genetic; marriage fosters it, but having children doesn't; men become happier with age, women less happy; money does little to boost happiness; religious people are happier, possibly because of the social support they get from church; and so forth.

As to the consequences of being happy, they are widely presumed to be positive. Happiness is held to lengthen life, buffer stress and make people more productive on the job. Some of these notions appear to be justified. A Dutch study in the 1980's, for example, found that a happy 70-year-old man can expect to live 20 months longer than his less happy counterpart. But an earlier American study found that children who are cheerful and optimistic end up having shorter life spans (perhaps because they take more risky chances).

Some have worried that happy people tend to be apathetic and easily manipulated by political leaders -- contented cows, so to speak. In Aldous Huxley's dystopian novel, ''Brave New World,'' the working classes are kept in docile submission by a diet of drugs that render them universally happy. In the real world, however, there is little evidence that happiness creates complacent citizens; in fact, studies show that happy people are more likely than alienated people to get politically involved, not less.

There is one bit of the world that happy people do see in an irrationally rosy light: themselves. As the British psychologist Richard P. Bentall has observed, ''There is consistent evidence that happy people overestimate their control over environmental events (often to the point of perceiving completely random events as subject to their will), give unrealistically positive evaluations of their own achievements, believe that others share their unrealistic opinions about themselves and show a general lack of evenhandedness when comparing themselves to others.'' Indeed, Bentall has proposed that happiness be classified as a psychiatric disorder.

That may be going a bit far. But the evidence he cites, along with the newfound link between ''well-feeling'' and prejudice, might at least shake our belief in happiness as the summum bonum. Over the last few decades, it is precisely the groups that have made the most social progress in the United States -- women and educated African-Americans -- that have reported declines in their level of happiness. On reflection, this is not surprising. As education and freedom increase, desires -- and unmet desires -- inevitably multiply; our well-feeling may decrease, even as life becomes fuller and more meaningful. In Eastern nations like China, where happiness as a goal is less highly rated, people report lower levels of life satisfaction, but they also have lower suicide rates.

The very idea that happiness could harm a person's character -- that it could be associated with prejudice, for example -- would have been unthinkable to ancient philosophers. They believed in an indissoluble bond between happiness and virtue. The virtuous man, they held, was bound to be happy, since he knew himself to be in possession of the highest good, a good that could not be taken away from him even when he was being tortured on the rack. With modern times, however, came the subjective ''well-feeling'' definition of happiness: when the fellow in the white coat asks you if you're happy, just check your mood, compare your circumstances with those of the people around you, then tell him how contented you feel.

Ambrose Bierce, in ''The Devil's Dictionary,'' offered the following definition: ''Happiness, n. An agreeable sensation arising from contemplating the misery of another.'' Well, there's no need to be that cynical. But, given some of the things we've learned about happiness, let's be grateful that we merely have a right to pursue it, not a duty.

Jim Holt writes for The New Yorker, Slate and other publications.
  unending ropes (remembered)
how they can stay faithful
is beyond me, that is,
how could i have hoped
when they're same like me -
stained, a little broken,
a little hardened, a little
forgetful. ...

for it's much, much easier
to forget You, to
pick and choose
which parts are true
and which parts i insist
real. for it's much,
much simpler to pretend
i can be whole
with one of this,
some of that,
all just so i can last
at least for the next few hours
... just for the next few hours.

there's an impasse between us now,
and i recognize nothing around me
but the old roundabout emptiness
incomparable, except,
perhaps, to the unrelenting,
unending, matchless magnificence
of You.

but wait -
there are no coincidences
so i wonder what lesson
You've planned
for me this time.

whatever it is
i hope that i learn it
at least,
at the very least
in the way
that only
  unending ropes
10.14.2003 // unending ropes
Posted at 12:12 PM

dear lord
today i start another day
please let me remember what it was like
to stare at a sunset so red
to rest on grass wet with dew
to close my eyes and slow my heart
that moment in time, you gave me so long ago,
so long ago i've already forgotten it
so long ago i've already forsaken it
please help me remember what it was like
to stare at stars and wish for a difference
wish for dreams now in my grasp,
wish for possibilities already at my doorstep.
grant to me the peace and the simplicity
to take things for granted, again,
but this time,
help me remember
that you had sent me this far
and this far
isn't the end
of my journey.

first posted at sakristan
  philippine lit in english is dying
whoa?! i am so glad this post was written last year! i guess mr. carunungan (shoot... somehow that name sounds familiar!) is talking about literature written in english in the philippines, tho. because i know it is very much alive in english-speaking countries - if a bit stifled. :-P

Philippine Literature in English is Dying -- Celso Carunungan
by Tony P. Fernandez
Post date: 8/5/2003 [ webpage ]

Philippine literature in English is dying. This was the dire conclusion of Celso Carunungan, one of the country’s foremost literary writers in English, who died in Manila on February 15, 1988, at age 65.

While on a visit to Manila in 1985, I had the good fortune to meet Celso Carunungan, who spent long years writing fiction in English and was among those who voiced his concern that literature in English by Filipino writers is flickering, and will perhaps one day burn itself out.

In a lecture that he delivered on June 11, 1985, at the B & B Executive Lounge atop the Makati Stock Exchange, sponsored by the Philippine Futuristic Society, Celso said Filipino fiction writers in English face a bleak future because they don’t want to write, saying there’s no market for fiction writing in English. “It’s a vicious circle,” Celso said. ”The writer today doesn’t want to write because there’s no market and the market cannot publish anything because there’s nothing to publish. And although we are a nation or a people who can read, we are also a people who don’t buy books to read,” Celso told his listeners.

Celso said this is borne out by the fact that in 1984, Singapore produced 500 novels, Malaysia printed 350, Indonesia put out some 1, 200 novels, with Japan by far having the largest number-some 3, 500 novels produced during the same year. The Philippines, which is considered an English-speaking country, produced only four (4) novels, according to Carunungan.

This impoverished state of Philippine literature in English has been felt by the Palanca Literary Contest, where Carunungan has been consistently a judge for a number of years. According to Celso, the Palanca literary awards have been relegated to a contest every three years because of lack of entries. “Last year, there were only three entries,” Celso said. “It’s not something that you can be proud of.”

Carunungan also said that some people are saying that the reason Filipino literature in English is failing miserably is due to lack of freedom (the country was still under martial law) and because there’s really nothing to write about.

Celso disagrees. “During the Japanese Occupation that is exactly what all the writers were saying. Just wait. After the war, fiction writing will flourish. But this did not happen,” he said.

Carunungan said as far as he knows the only piece of fiction on the Japanese Occupation was Stevan Javellana’s Without Seeing the Dawn. Perhaps there were many other short stories on the Occupation but nothing substantial was written about that period, says Carunungan.

For Celso, a repressive regime should not be the excuse not to write. “Perhaps the most repressive regime in the history of England was the regime of Queen Elizabeth 1, and yet she produced the Golden Age of English Literature. This was the age of Shakespeare and Marlowe and Ben Johnson and a host of other writers,” Carunungan stated.

“I feel that the writer who complains about repressive regimes is a mediocre one trying to use the regime as a crutch for his inability to write,” Carunungan added.

In delineating how to save Filipino fiction writing in English, Celso wants Filipino fiction writers in English to look beyond their country. He wants them to write for American magazines, and to write for British magazines. He wants them to write for other foreign publications printed in English. And he wants Filipino writers to be themselves. In other words, to write as Filipinos and to choose universal themes that will appeal not only to Filipino readers but to foreign readers as well.

However, Celso recognizes that the reason Filipino writers cannot penetrate the foreign market in English is due perhaps to the fact that the ordinary Filipino writer who writes in English does not have a “living acquaintance “ with the English language.

He said the English that they know is the English that they learned from books, from the movies or TV and reading these books they get influenced by such writers as Hemingway, Faulkner and other American authors without realizing perhaps that Hemingway wrote in Midwestern English, Faulkner in Southern English, Steinbeck in California English.

The result is ‘chop suey’ English ala Filipino’, Carunungan told his audience. And to make matters worse, Carunungan says: “We speak the English language in a manner that an American will need a code to understand it.” So unless something is done to save Philippine literature in English, Celso sees little hope for our fiction writers to flourish using Shakespeare’s tongue.


About Tony P. Fernandez

Antonio P. Fernandez or 'Tony,' was born in Manila and grew up in San Juan, Rizal. His father, Tomas Fernandez Lumba, was of Spanish descent and originally from Manila, while his mother, Marina Pasion, hails from Mangaldan, Pangasinan.

He finished high school at San Marcelino Catholic High School and enrolled at Lyceum University majoring in journalism. He worked in Manila in the late 50s as a reporter for the Herald Publications Inc., publishers of the Philippines Herald, Mabuhay, and the El Debate, a daily in Spanish. He also worked as a translator.in the Publications Divisions of the Philippine National Library.

In 1966, he was awarded a scholarship to do research and reporting in Spanish by the Instituto de Cultura Hispánica of Madrid, Spain, and lived in that city for several years after which he traveled to various countries of Europe. He then moved to the United States in 1968 where he co-founded the Filipino American Herald, a Seattle community newspaper.

Fernandez attended the University of Washington in Seattle and took up Mass Communications and Spanish. As well, he worked as a Spanish substitute teacher in the Seattle Public School System.

He then moved to Montreal in 1974, and worked for the Medical Records Department at the Montreal General Hospital. While still working for the General, Tony founded Bulalakaw, a monthly community paper, which was later renamed The Tamaraw Times and published this paper for more than a decade. He became the editor of the The Filipino Star since its founding and stayed as editor for many years until the Star changed ownership in 1998. Fernandez later joined the Asian Leader in 1998, as a contributing editor and was named the same year as the Vice-Chairman of the Montreal Philippine Centennial Movement (Quebec Chapter). He is also the Area Commander of the Knights of Rizal (Montreal Chapter).

Fernandez was instrumental of having Dr. Jose Rizal’s statue to be erected in Mackenzie King Park after months of lobbying with an Ad Hoc Committee of Filipinos he formed to have the City of Montreal approved this project with the backing of then President Fidel Ramos.

He is married to Lina V. Fernandez. They have a son - Antonio V. Fernandez who was born in Montreal. Comments may be sent to afernan@look.ca

Source: By Tony P. Fernandez, submitted through e-mail
  girly guilts
from my phone around 1:43 p.m. today:

oh la la. mint oreo chocolate javakula. seabest @ loyola rocks. :) nuff sed :swoon:


hay. i hate girly things. too sweet, like rich chocolate cake: very, very bad. mwahaha.


girly book

All the Right Moves, Tara FT Sering. [ more ]

erm... ionno. ahahahaha! but now i'm curious. :evil:

Pula ang Kulay ng Text Message
ni Genevieve L. Asenjo [ webpage ]

Lumipad hanggang Taft Avenue ang tuwa
ng bunso kong kapatid. Dumating itong
tunog-Kinaray-a. Nakakatuwa itong aming bunso,
tuwang-tuwa siya. Pulang kasing-tingkad
daw ng gumamela sa likod-bahay,
saka malapot na parang inasukalang lugaw.
Pulang-malapot na nakakagayuma ang amoy.
Natutuwa siyang iba ito sa amoy
ng pulang umagos sa kanyang ilong
nang minsang lumipad sa kanyang mukha
ang isang kamao ng natalong kalaro.
Kakaiba rin sa kirot ng tusok
ng mga tinik, gasgas-peklat pilat
ng pangangahoy at pag-akyat sa puno
tuwing tag-araw. Nakakatuwa, nauna pa siya
sa pinsang nasa hayskul na. Ngunit,
ay, lumipad siyang pababa ng hagdan
na di nilakbangan ang tatlong baitang.
Hindi rin isina-loofah sa mukha
ang panting namula. (Ibili ko na
lang raw siya ng facial wash).

Nakakatuwa. Ako kasi noon piping-pipi.
Ikinahiya ko sa bawat paghiyaw-diwang
ng mga lalaking kaklase ang pulang
tagos sa uniporme. May kung anong
sundot ng pangamba't pagkaasiwa sa bawat
pansin, tukso, banta ng matatanda. Nakakabingi
maging ang bulong ng ibang kabarong
dumi't sumpa ang pag-angkin sa agos
ng pulang-malapot. Nakakatuwa, amoy-buhay
itong bumuhay ng sariling tuwa sa
lipad ng gunita. At talagang nakakatuwa --
dahan-dahang humagod ang daliri ko
sa dibdib hanggang sa puson pababa
pababa at inamoy-dinama ang pag-iisa:
Ako at si Bunso.
Natatawa akong lumabas
para bumili ng panibagong cellcard.
  ow is an understatement 4 ...
ow is an understatement 4 how my feet feel right now. i'm @ a wedding. whoever invented heels shot. :(

ohmigosh! i texted this message to blogspot over the weekend - june 19, when the wedding happened! :-( i wonder what's wrong with blogspot! i hope it hasn't finally given up on me, with all the texts i want plugged in here ahahaha. ...

the full message:

ow is an understatement 4 how my feet feel right now. i'm @ a wedding. whoever invented heels shot. :(

the service was just so relaxed n fun-fr. rog is just so hilarious. :)

the u of c campus is just gorgeous! sigh. hay! gothic buildings rock! isang araw mag-aaral ako dun. :)
  chicago is

chicago is acting like the big city that it is.

we have a politician running for senate whose sex life unfolds for everyone to see. [ jack ryan ]

we have a near north insurance tycoon facing 20 years in prison for racketeering and embezzlement. [ michael segal ]

we have a senate filibuster wanting to shut down plans for a third major chicago airport. [ u.s. sen. peter fitzgerald ]

united airlines' loan to keep afloat was denied a second time by a federal treasury board. [ air transportation stabilization board ]

for post-father's day syndrome, we have a father tie his two children to him, fill their backpacks with sand, and jump into lake michigan. their bodies washed ashore in kenosha county, wis., saturday. [ kevin amde ]

and west nile virus hovered near me today - they say third time's the charm, but i say it's just the second. for the second time that humungous mosquito buzzed near my office cube night, i clapped, squished and killed it. i still have it in me to kill mosquitoes the traditional way! [ west nile virus ]

very fun monday, indeed. at least the office bought us pizza. i'm one of those weirdoes who somehow become more productive when the pressure is on. ...

  new high st. 16-17
still need to fix the spaces on this one.

for the pole and low shoes
is events made sequence'd "clearly where

plastic wrap it'up hat hunger pole "my crying out, demanding, street my low
as asked [to justify] what means by stick and shoes
plainly made events sequence'd where

hunger plastic hat wrap it'up on the street demanding screaming
this 'nother smooth

look determined for low error spectrum puncture "oh experimental, beauty of
to block swallow (ing) cites 'torical safekeeping signs little ear tip of test
pain(s) say what is -is- another from this 'nother flat

stare down determined hole
spectrum error where trial (ed) ing
choking swallowed (ing) cite custody 'torical signing less action probe

[ original - as/is blog ]

  words, words, words
i will prolly always and forever be, a pollyanna on the one hand, and a hopeless loud bitch on the other. :shrugs:
  bagay poetry
Paksiw na Ayungin
by Jose F. Lacaba

Ganito ang pagkain
ng paksiw na ayungin:
bunutin ang palikpik
(para sa pusa iyan
at ang matirang tinik),
at ilapat sa labi
ang ulo, at sipsipin
ang mga matang dilat:
pagkatapos ay mismong
ang ulo ang sipsipin
hanggang sa maubos ang
katas nito.
Saka mo
umpisahan ang laman.

Unti-unti lang, dahan-
dahan, at simutin nang
husto--kakaunti iyang
ulam natin, mahirap
humagilap ng ulam.
Damihan mo ang kanin,
paglawain sa sabaw.
At huwag kang maangal.
payat man ang ayungin,
pabigat din sa tiyan.

English translation by the author:

Fish Cooked in Vinegar

This is the way to eat
fish cooked in vinegar:
pull out the fins
(the cat can have those
along with the fishbones),
and bring the fishhead
to your lips, and suck out
its wide-open eyes;
then suck on
the fishhead itself
until you have drained it
of its juice.
Now you can
start on the fishmeat.

Eat slowly, little by
little, and pick the fish
clean--we don't have enough
food, it's difficult
to scrounge for food.
Make do with a lot of rice
swimming in the vinegar.
And stop complaining.
Though the fish is thin,
it's better than nothing.

[ psychicpants.net ]


Lahat ng Hindi Ko Kailangang Malaman, Natutunan Ko sa Pelikulang For Adults Only
by Jose F. Lacaba
Mula sa koleksyon, "Edad Medya: Mga Tula Sa Katanghaliang Gulang"

Marumi ang pulitiko, pero malinis ang budhi
ng puta.

Ipokrito ang pari, pero may ginintuang puso
ang puta.

Nagpapaaral ng kapatid na magpapari
ang puta.

Namumutiktik sa putang ina at anak ng puta ang malaswang bibig
ng puta.

Nalululong sa droga ang anak
ng puta.

Ayaw ng putang ina na ang anak niyang babae'y masadlak
sa pagpuputa.

Ang unang tikim sa luto ng Diyos ay ipinapatikim
ng puta.

Bukas ang simbahan kahit madaling-araw tuwing magdadasal
ang puta.

Nagbubulungan ang mga manang na nakakasalubong
ng puta.

Ginahasa ng tiyuhin ang puta kung kaya siya

Talak ng kahirapan kung kaya nagputa
ang puta.

Hindi nagpapahalik sa labi
ang puta.

Kapwa puta ang mga kabarkada
ng puta.

Magandang lalaki ang nag-aalay ng tapat na pag-ibig
sa puta.

Masungit na ina ng magandang lalaki ang nag-aalok ng pera para lumayo
ang puta.

Kung binabaril ang bidang lalaki, yumayakap at tinatamaan
ang puta.

Tanging kamatayan ang tutubos at magpapatawad sa kaputahan
ng puta.

Sigaw ng puta: Pare-pareho naman tayong

[ psychicpants.net ]
  i'm debating again whether 2 ...
i'm debating again whether 2 go 2 la 4 the yfc reunion conf or not. w/ my xtended absence, there will b lots o awkward moments.

  practice poll
here's a poll that i later want to publish in my xanga site. :-) feel free to vote!!! :-D

click HERE for the poll... coz blogger won't allow javascript on their sites! :-(
  eh! is the name of ...
eh! is the name of monday. sana there were some way of taking away such an ungrateful disposition-and i'm @ jamba, no less!

  it was storming the end ...
it was storming the end of the world this morning-@ 10a, a loud clap of thunder reminded all thier debts this start of week. haha!

  i really didnt wnt 2 ...
i really didnt wnt 2 go 2 wrk 2day, even tho it wld help while the day away. i shld b ashamed-n i think i will b when i walk in.

  i am highly pleased indeed. ...
i am highly pleased indeed. we're @ the new italian place @ navy pier, capi's :) after HP n a bkstore n fireworks, it's a GREAT...

  start 2 the summer indeed. ...
start 2 the summer indeed. :)

  neon - john mayer

Sky blue gets dark enough
To see the colors of the city lights
A trail of ruby red and diamond white
Hits her like a sunrise

She comes and goes
And comes and goes
Like no one can
le bleu ciel devient assez
pour voir le couleur et lumiere de ville
une piste de rubis rouge et le diamant blanc
vient à elle sembable un lever du soleil

elle vient et va
et vient et va
sembable aucun personne peuvent
ewwwww... erm... tigil na nga sa mali-maling pagsalin at baka isiping ganyan na akong tao - sabado pa man din, ahahahaha. ...

[ john mayer - neon ]

  in my indecision wheather 2 ...
in my indecision wheather 2 get food or not, jamba juice almost closed on me! tsk, tsk! haha. not good.



a friend says that he was a good actor as president. walter jennings says that you can't be president of the united state of america without having a background in acting.

while in grade school, i remember a rice cooker filled with the yummy white stuff. and that the actions of this president are going to affect how my family fares for the rest of the year. because if he didn't stop the soviets from having the biggest nuclear weapons, then what's going to happen to me and my family?

at the end of it all, president mikhail gorbachev, prime minister margaret thatcher, his vice president, and other nemesis and colleagues attended his funeral. what do we know of minds of looming leaders? perhaps there really was sincerity behind the pomp and circumstance.

president ronald reagan will be buried in sunset. in the same, it really does seem like his wife, nancy, will quietly retreat into private life. yet unlike her husband, she might pass on just as quietly as well.

in the meantime, eureka college's reagan museum held extended official hours. boyhood hometown dixon, illinois, never forgot to make their presence felt in prayer and song. the small, white house on eight sixteen south hennepin avenue and the park alongside became immediate icons. "illinois' favorite son," the regular folk called him. what do we know of minds of happy strangers? how inspiring.

  some night - luis cabalquinto
Some Night
From "Moon Over Magarao: New & Selected Poems"
by Luis Cabalquinto

Some night when you're out there in an open field,
looking intently at the black velvet sky thickly
beaded with stars, you might also feel what I've felt

on such a night. You might feel the heavy weight
of your thoughts drop and vanish into the grass
and all that really mattered would be the full volume

of your body displacing the same volume of air;
then taking some of it back into an open mouth
with each long slow intake, holding breath a minute

then letting go, sensing the flushing power of the act.
A cleanliness of being would pulse out into the universe.
Unseen, someone would be singing from afar --

a young woman's voice, riding thin and fragile
on the southeast gust that would brush past your ear like fur;
and some deep part of you would be yearning for her

to come and share this pain, the stinging ache of your joy.
  night gin - luis cabalquinto
Night Gin
From "Moon Over Magarao: New & Selected Poems"
by Luis Cabalquinto

they speak of the recent palay
harvest, which was very poor,
after a typhoon;
they speak softly, half-listening
to the wind outside Sofronio's hut,
as night deepened slowly;
they say the months ahead
again will not be easy,
but tonight there is joy and comfort
in the company of a kinsman
newly returned from abroad;
in the small shot glass we pass,
clockwise, from one man's lips
to the next, the stories and laughter
we share; and I, listening, drinking gin,
watching their faces in the orange light
of a kerosene-fed wick lamp
from across the bare bamboo table,
think of the world's sharp counterpoints:
how, tonight for instance, my other kin
in New York will be yelling for Nureyev
to answer his 24th curtain call at the Met.
  hometown - luis cabalquinto
From "Moon Over Magarao: New & Selected Poems"
by Luis Cabalquinto

After a supper of mountain rice
And wood-roasted river crab
I sit on a long bench outside
The old house, looking at a river:

Alone, myself, again away
From that other self in the city
On this piece of ancestor land,
My pulses slowed, I am at peace.

I have no wish but this place --
To remain here in a stopped time
With stars moving on that water
And in the sky a brightness

Answering: I want nothing else
But this stillness filling me
From a pure darkness over the land
That smells ever freshly of trees.

The night and I are quiet now
But for small laughter from a neighbor,
The quick sweep of a winged creature,
And a warm dog, snuggled by my feet.
  l'art de réconciliation
been reading the blogs of several writers who had finally made the trip to america, settled and all. mostly women, ahahaha. i have yet to bring myself to read on what the men say. i'm not sure if any of them are queer. further reading will help me find out, i'm sure.

[ here are the blogs that i read: ]
gura's blog
the chatelaine's poet

[ and for balance and sanity's sake, ]
Chicago Lit 50

it's just making me even sadder, but at least it's also helping me define which disciplines to follow in the future. i know i'm mapping my own course now, and it's difficult, but at least it's all my route. i've veering toward theology and creative writing still. i soooooooooooooooooooo want to continue my french, but i'm having a hard time being motivated to go to my classes. there's several i've already missed, and sadly, i feel no need to rush out there and start learning. i think i need a private tutor for that, so i'll be forced to learn.

the writers talked about the purpose-driven life, animism, performing on stage, dealing with whether you're gay, dealing with the perceptions of being gay, falling in love, falling in love with yourself.

ya - we can say that there's a lot of naval-gazing going on in there. some dive into the spiritual, something i'm good at but refuse to explore. i drown in conversations like that, and my emerging isn't always successful. i hate leaping from one mindset to another - coz we all know that reality isn't about the non-physical all the time. i've yet to learn the art of reconciliation - it's a skill we all need to learn, and i'm comforted by the illusion that no one might be able to perfect it. :silly:

but one thing that's totally interesting about the blogs is that some of them actually leap from one to the other, becoming a strange... conversation... of sorts. ya, of course - they all know each other personally. that's why the blogs are so interesting to read ;-P. ...
  who runs two blocks for jamba?
posting from my phone again. :swoon:

I have officially gone mad. who runs 2 blocks 4 jamba juice? well, apparantly me :). sumptin orange this tym, haha. i'm hella hungry, 2.

another pc o info i learned - actually learned bout this sumtym ago, still thinkin it over: peeps my age r often bored.

the challenge, after reaching goals, is keeping ourselves productive in a non-nuisance way. :) pay attn 2 things around, (in)stead...

about us. haha! what a great way 2 stay friends w/ potential enemies. :) last note: the way my celly rings rocks! :) chem bros...
  about us. haha! what a ...
about us. haha! what a great way 2 stay friends w/ potential enemies. :) lst note: the way my celly rings rocks! :) chem bros...

  the challenge, after reaching goals, ...
the challenge, after reaching goals, is keeping ourselves productive in a non-nuisance way. :) pay attn 2 things around, stead...

  another pc o info i ...
another pc o info i learned-actually learned bout this sumtym ago, still thinkin it over. peeps my age r often bored.

  I have officially gone mad. ...
I have officially gone mad. who runs 2 blks 4 jamba? well, apparantly me :). sumptin orange this tym, haha. i'm hella hungry, 2.

  i dare you to move - switchfoot

yesterday i gloated that the editor i currently work for fell and busted her knee. she needs surgery and will be out for quite a bit. i gloated, "i get a break!!!" but now i wish there were some way to soften that gloat a bit. coz hell ya, i believe in karma and its various forms. don't get me started. so if y'alls know of a softer way of saying i get some time off from working for her, let me know. :-)

this song i really like!!! i find myself falling asleep on it, and then two hours later when my CD player's still crankin, i grope for the buttons to stop it. we can only take so much threat in the deep night

I Dare You to Move

Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's here
Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next
What happens next

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistence
The tension is here
The tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened -

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

[ switchfoot ]
[ a walk to remember ]
ya, the other song's "meant to live." ...
oh darn! here i go singing again... ahahahaha. ...

  d jamba juice on madison n wells ...
ahahahaha... i just *love* the idea of posting from your phone. i'm sure lots others do it already from their PDAs. well, i'm not THAT yuppie yet, nor am i that important, to get a freaky PDA! ;-P

d jamba juice on madison n wells is hoppin'! 1 o d srvrs pours out yer drink w/ joy.u jus kno sumtin's gona go wrong.n sumtin did!

it wasn't a drastic wrong,jus a silly wrong. a srvr wanted 2 keep d line going, so she took orders-w/ no reg 2 ring them up! haha.

it was a good way 2 keep clients frm getting board waiting, haha xcept d girl ahead in line o me paid all in change!

ok that held up d line. twas all gewd xcept d srvrs felt embarased. :) i jus smiled, 'ok,' n ordered my drink. :)
  it wasn't a drastic wrong,jus ...
it wasn't a drastic wrong,jus a silly wrong. a srvr wanted 2 keep d line going, so she took orders-w/ no reg 2 ring them up! haha.

  ok that held up d ...
ok that held up d line. twas all gewd xcept d srvrs felt embarased. :) i jus smiled, 'ok,' n ordered my drink. :)

  it was a good way ...
it was a good way 2 keep clients frm getting board waiting, haha xcept d girl ahead in line o me paid all in change!

  d jamba juice on madison ...
d jamba juice on madison n wells is hoppin'! 1 o d srvrs pours out yer drink w/ joy.u jus kno sumtin's gona go wrong.n sumtin did!

  12:32 p.m.
i wake today to music. absolutely adore notes. i used to play classical piano and guitar. i took up singing in college just for the heck of it. i turned down piano lessons, and boy did i regret it coz i learned too late just how hard it was to get into that program. stupid, stupid! :hangs head:

i want to see harry potter again this weekend, tho i was told that the day after tomorrow is good too. hmmmmmmmm ionno coz it echoes of a.i. to me - yanno, steven spielberg, that little cute blonde kid who said he didn't wanna play harry potter anyways, ahahahaha... i'll check it out this weekend.

only tuesday and i'm wanting the weekend already!!!! gosh. but today's all good, i think - busy enough so i can while away the day with busywork, ahahahaha... actually, it's not busywork at all, i think.

lately i've taken to thinking that most of what i write and what i think and what i do are just things that move paper around... that thought made me soooooooo unhappy that i went crazy biking around independence park, ahahaha.

which then saved my huge beeeeeeeeeeeeeeehind coz we all know that exercising releases endorphines that are almost the same as the yummy chemicals naturally found in cocoa and artificially folded into chocolate. soooooooooo my new obsession right now's biking and stretching and staying away from fettucini alfredo and chocolate and ice cream and things basically that sustain me, so that i can go biking and posting some more. :very pleased:

but but but of course i can't not ruminate the mysteries of the universe and a story a friend and i are writing by staying away from my cafes, ahahahaha. ...
  ok 8p. cafe closes. been ...
ok 8p. cafe closes. been writing frm my fon. enough ruminations, haha. :)

  ok 8p. cafe closes. been ... posting shamelessly
ok 8p. cafe closes. been writing frm my fon. enough ruminations, haha. :)

ah wells... here's what i mean by being a bit unreliable. this and that one with the comment are posts from my phone yesterday... i guess we should be seeing more of those as i kept on sending from my phone and refreshing this page until blogspot finally said, "I QUIIIIIIIIIIIIT! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE! I'LL GET TO YOUR POSTS IN A SANE A.S.A.P.!" :hangs DO NOT DISTURB sign and slams login door, lock clicking soundly:

shameless plug with no profit


can your

it's not very reliable
and it often takes posts
a while
to shed
unhappy shyness,

and blogspot
goes berserk
if you try
to send post
after another

but that
could be caused by
a number of things,

when i drop my phone
yet again

in my eagerness to share
i send
10 million missives
all at once.

yet still,
your zuhnga
to that?

  fool's diary

yes! :-P i am an unabashed online journal keeper! here are my other journals. please check them out and leave me a message, if you like! :-)

some people consider journals to be cheap shots at attention. others think they're a waste of time, as not everyone has access to the internet.

i keep online journals for the sheer joy of writing and immediately getting feedback from published works, anonymous or not. :very pleased.:

eventually i do want to work for an online news media company that moves news online. the difference between an online newsmedia company and the traditional wire services is that news moved on the internet is immediately available to everyone all at once. you have to subscribe to a wire service to get it.

okay! enough jabbering. thanks for stopping by! :-) will post more later.

click here

poems, notes, articles of interest. my most extensive, sophisticated and complete journal yet.

click here

journal for the fun of it. not as much dirt in here as sakristan, but my widest audiences are here.

click here

my favorite so far, ahahahaha! coz i can post from my PHONE on this one! :very pleased.:

click here

newest journal. ;-P
  jamba juice opens :-D
here is a more sane rendition of the past four posts from my phone :-)

WORSHIP IT: jamba juice has now opened 2 blks frm where i work, on madison n wells! :swoon: no wonder somehow this day seems spc -

somehow. :) i'm such a cafe slut haha! my table is elevated like a stage. it's part of jamba's market of enlightenedness, haha -

evry1's doin cofe cafes now, haha. love the music, 2. i guess evry1's a slut of sumptin now, haha. it's an end of a sort innocence

ok 8p. cafe closes. been writing frm my fon. enough ruminations, haha. :)
  ok 8p. cafe closes. been ...
ok 8p. cafe closes. been writing frm my fon. enough ruminations, haha. :)

  evry1's doin cofe cafes now, ...
evry1's doin cofe cafes now, haha. love the music, 2. i guess evry1's a slut of sumptin now, haha. it's an end of a sort innocence

  somehow. :) i'm such a ...
somehow. :) i'm such a cafe slut haha! my table is elevated like a stage. it's part of jamba's market of enlightenedness, haha -

  WORSHIP IT: jamba juice has ...
WORSHIP IT: jamba juice has now opened 2 blks frm where i work, on madison n wells! :swoon: no wonder somehow this day seems spc -


biking. woohoo! ang init sa labas, offset by whirling bout independence park. what a name for a park.

sunny, pero uulan daw mamya. HARRY POTTER!

our pet dogs are listening to our music.

delerium is european, and so that's why they're cool beyond count. so's royksopp. but too bad that delerium stayed a dream coz they broke up, ahahahaha... erm.

  emailing potter from the celly

just so we're clear -

Just finished HarryPotter. the wait is worth it. alfonso cuarón is da man. :)

we're seeing it a 2nd time... just coz.

  Just finished HP. the wait ...
Just finished HP. the wait is worth it. cuaron is da man. :)

  the crazy posts
ummmmmmmm ahahaha... the previous short posts are going to affirm y'alls thoughts bout me bein' wacko. :pleased: so for accuracy's sake, here is the entire post. (wow! all that copy from my celly. i wonder how much my next bill will be, ahahaha. ...)

I'm writing frm my fon. blogspot rocks! :) pyra net fig out how u can post frm ur fon. :) neat-o. i'm on the irving prk bus goin east 2 sheridan rd. it's a gorgeous 70s,day afr my bday. i fnly got thru it! strange coz all yr last i always thought i wuz 28. eh! there is a cubs game 2day! that means crowded red line trains. and isolation coz how can u c a game wen 1 of yer hmis dun wana c a gme, no? k-d crowded trns hre n i nid my hnds 2 hng on n ive alrdy misd mch o d scenery.tnx 4 d ride.til nxt. :)
  ...goin east 2 sheridan rd. ...
.goin east 2 sheridan rd. it's a gorgeous 70s,day afr my bday. i fnly got thru it! strange coz all yr last i always thought...

  hmis dun wana c a ...
hmis dun wana c a gme, no? k-d crowded trns hre n i nid my hnds 2 hng on n ive alrdy misd mch o d scenery.tnx 4 d ride.til nxt. :)

  I'm writing frm my fon. ...
I'm writing frm my fon. blogspot rocks! :) pyra net fig out how u can post frm ur fon. :) neat-o. i'm on the irving prk bus. ...

  i wuz 28. eh! there ...
i wuz 28. eh! there is a cubs game 2day! that means crowded red line trains. and isolation coz how can u c a game wen 1 of yer...

  the list of toys
to have list. mwahahahaha. :evil: * denotes priority. boldfaced means priority, but seriously.

timbuk2 bag and purse yay! very proud of 'em. wait till you see! ;-D
some computer games
return of the king DVD*
the matrix boxed set*
kill bill boxed set*

MS Word for PC
Macromedia for PC*
iPod, one that can do both pix and music*
decent work shoes
new work clothes*
summer clothes*
a new celly (one i can e-mail out of)
time to read and write*
  the color of names
sensible hue is a yellow the shade of vanilla pudding. :pleased:

june 3 is my birthday.

you think i'm joking?! why'd you think i'd be joking about that? something like the one day in 365 to 366 that is totally just MINE?

*stomps off. comes back. it's nighttime outside and a little scary. there's that homeless man again, with the accordion.*

i had spent the last two birthdays wedded to my desk here at work because i remember to take days off for my mother's birthday, for my siblings' graduations, for relatives and friends who drop in uninvited for a visit, but somehow manage to forget to take time off for my day. for the third year in a row. *eh.*

the truth is, when you neglect to plan stuff for you, people around you do you the favor, save you the task of, planning for your day. so when i went, "uh," with a shrug, my little sister skipped to our mother who then gave her the brightest of smiles so that when i turned back to them, the little sister merrily chirped, "we're going cosmic bowling on your birthday!" my mother broke into her sweetest of smiles, the other sibling stuck her tongue out and made me a face. my friends died laughing on the floor and hadn't yet recovered. :expressionless:

THE LAST DAY I'M 27!!! gosh. hay. finally!!! bring it on.

i've stopped writing poems for now. i'm not in the mood to, ahahaha. for sure that will change, coz i don't want to loose what little i think i know about writing poems.

mainly, i need to do what i've been meaning to for the past several days - need another one of 'em spells of quiet and solitude to finish my readings and empty my brain of the gunk that's in there.

i'm finishing a journal!!! i'm so happy. i have a few pages to go before i switch journals again. i love starting and finishing journals - it doesn't exactly give me a sense of accomplishment. more of like it helps me move on from chapter to life chapter. :-)

for sure it keeps me sane to keep a private journal. but lately i've been leaving the last one lying around the house - my siblings know me enough already that to go near the book equals death on the spot. :pleased: that's why they stay away.

ok. enough moping. i want to write some more, but dinner and work are calling! thanks for stopping by and have a good evening. :-)
  if u were a vegetable, what would u be?

they asked me that question just now. i paused. in my mind, i saw veggie tales and remembered what the squat, round talking veggie was.

"i think i would be a turnip."

hey, i asked 'em all what led to this question. the room erupted into earthquakes and storms of rocks. took us all a full 10 minutes to settle. "it's for the salad bowl - no, the salad bar," one of them replied.

oh, boy. all this, as we emerged from a three-day weekend. and then we turned back to oprah.

  fahrenheit 9/11

Cannes Palme d'Or winner to screen in the U.S.

"Fahrenheit 9/11" finds domestic distributor
Gary Gentile, AP Business Writer
Tuesday, June 1, 2004
(06-01) 17:30 PDT

LOS ANGELES (AP) -- Michael Moore's award-winning documentary "Fahrenheit 9/11" has picked up a U.S. distributor and will hit theaters June 25.

The film will be released by a partnership of Lions Gate Films, IFC Films and the Fellowship Adventure Group, which was formed by Harvey and Bob Weinstein specifically to market Moore's film. [ more ]

  day 1 and trying to stay warm

THIS will teach me to show up at work with just a shirt and slacks on. stupid!!!! i'm FREEZING! it was nice and 70s outside when i started out, but of course this is chicago, the weather never stays put for five minutes. no one cares if i show up in a worn sweater, so long as i show up. did i listen? NO! office maintenance jacked up the air conditioning. dangit... ok, enough whining, ahahaha. back to work.

  day 1
ooooooooooooookay. june. summer. i made it through the first six months of 2004!!!! :-D quite an achievement, if you can imagine the myriad things that can happen to someone who likes nothing more than to go biking, come rain or shine. if can i learn how to tolerate snow for extended periods of time, say an hour in the frigid chicago outdoors here and there, i might bike in the winter. but i'm not that crazy yet, ahahaha. ...

welcome, and thank you for boarding the ulanmaya transit express. tickets, please. mind the gap as you depart. have a pleasant experience.

05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 / 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 / 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 / 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 / 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 / 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 / 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 / 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 / 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 / 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 / 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 / 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 / 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 / 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 / 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 / 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 / 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 / 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 / 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 / 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 / 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 / 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 / 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006 / 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 / 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 / 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 /

gromit is curious

Powered by Blogger