R.I.P Wee MP3

At first I thought it was the battery. But after tinkering with it for while, the blue LCD light only heaved for a split second before dying again. Eventually I came to terms with the fact that my scotch-taped (oh yes!), antediluvian, 512 megabyte MP3 player purchased in the Neolithic era has finally bitten the dust.

(Cue fat lady to sing Amazing Grace)

Why have I not replaced it sooner you might ask? Why not get one of those IPods with insane storage capacities that sell like a hotcakes these days? Easy. I am a quasi-Luddite who avoids jumping on the bandwagon like I would a plague. I found comfort in knowing that what I had was a simple, brainless piece of obsolete technology I can operate even when in a coma. It was mouldy and ailing and could only hold so many songs but it was reliable protection against all that insipid Muzak. And to some extent, it was also a form of rebellion against the fad.

Thus I, its less-than-devastated widow, am left aurally exposed to the elements faced during the daily commute. Impeccable timing too. This in the middle of the most financially crippling holiday of the year: Christmas.

So unless there really is an overweight bearded man in the North Pole, I will henceforth be humming to myself while walking home from work.

 

Scarefest…NOT!

 

Nothing taints your favorite holiday like having to work when you’re supposed to be inebriated.

So to all of you free souls that are out and about on this All Hallow’s Eve, enjoy that swig of alcohol and hope that we won’t run into anything ghoulish or disconcerting…like say, a Republican victory (Shudder, shudder! Perish the thought!).

In an attempt to salvage whatever’s left of my festive spirit, I thought I’d leave a little salutation before I stop procrastinating.

 

 

 

The Prodigal Weirdo Returns

It’s good to be back!

It took a lot of heaving to put an end to that month-long bout of literary constipation. I also intentionally stayed away from my time-hogging computer to put a dent in my reading backlog. So my apologies to the blog’s readership. I know you’re a small bunch (my estimate circling around an innocuous single digit figure) but I really appreciate you guys sticking around. If I somehow snap out of the financial slump I’m in and I know where you live, I will send each of you a bundle of sharpened pencils as a token of gratitude. What to use them for is entirely up to you (but if you can find a way to threaten Kris Aquino with them, I will send you a freakin’ Boeing 747).

If you read my stuff, you must have wandered into my blog from the comments I made in Jessica Zafra’s site. If you understand her humor then you must have some level of weirdness floating around in your head. Quick! Run outside and thank the high heavens you’re not normal!

I think normalcy equates to mediocrity and we are stocked full of it as it is. I mean look at our attempts to secure any semblance of recognition in the Olympics. That in itself is a symptom that something’s terribly askew.

Has anybody noticed that we as a culture don’t encourage ingenuity as much as we should? Sure we come up with creative ways to get around certain day-to-day dilemmas. And we do have excellent underground talent. But an alarmingly large chunk of the societal bell curve finds fulfillment in copying others (preferrably the ones that come from overseas) which I think is completely cockeyed.

Case in point: In 1996, Alanis Morrisette came to Manila as part of her concert tour. In the weeks leading up to the said event, local noontime show A.S.A.P. held an ”Alanis look-alike/sing-alike” contest and the winner would be announced by Alanis herself. At the finals, they had about a dozen wannabees lined up on the stage and nobody seem to be cringing.

Strange concept. In North America, they do that too by the way…Every Halloween. Or maybe as a spoof of something. Or at the gay pride parade. But only we can do it with a straight face.

And do movies really need to have recycled song titles to sell at the box office? And how come a considerable percentage of local TV shows are really just travesties of imported originals?

As I’ve probably already said before, I’m proud to be weird. As should you be. It’s hard to defend sometimes but it’s easier to breathe when you’re far from the herd.

 

Blitzkrieged!

I think I might’ve surpassed the current world record for the most number of mishaps in a 48 hour span.

It starts with the fact that I’m completely destitute. Everytime I come within a 2 mile radius, the ATMs start making strange gurgling noises. Then I find out too late that a trip to the mall in this state is a flagellation all on its own. To keep from getting buried in more debt, I had to repeatedly remind myself (and Chrissie with whom I suffered the flagellation) that our lives will not come to an abrupt end if we decided against buying this corduroy pillow case or that bathroom rug. Notice how capitalism’s iron hand becomes increasingly flagrant when you’re a financial cripple. Believe me, it’s there. It just becomes less egregious when you have money to burn.

Of course,  dear ol’ Murphy wasn’t content with that. Sunday morning we woke up to find all the sockets in the living room short-circuited. The internet went down for the Nth time. And for the Nth time I had to call and listen to my ISP’s insipid muzak. The elevator went berzerk and thought it would be hilarious to make a stop at every floor in the building. The washing machine decided to stage a coup. My MP3 player refuses to turn on even after a fresh battery change. On top of everything else, I have a stack of laundry, a clogged drain, a busted kitchen sink, required overtime at the office, 15 flights of stairs from my floor to where I won’t be late for work, traffic, cab drivers (don’t get me started on them), and a fabulous all-expense paid trip to the seventh circle of hell.

I have it down to an art, really. When it rains, it not only pours but summons the horsemen of the apocalypse to lead the great household appliance mutiny of 2008.

I’m sure the pundits will agree that this onslaught of misfortune builds character….I wonder if it’s the kind that makes you consider buying a two-barrel shotgun on your next payday.

 

Pointlessness

There has been a resurgence in LTFRB’s enforcement of the “on duty / off duty” card requirement for Metro Manila taxis. Apparently cab drivers reserve the right to refuse passengers when they have the windshield card flipped to the ”off duty” side.

I need some clarification on this. Is this supposed to restrain them from being picky when they’re “on duty”? Because from my stand point, the policy is just as useful as placing age limits on certain websites. Anybody can easily click the “Yes, I’m above 18″ button. In the same sense, every cab driver can just flip over to “off duty” if they deem your destination too far or too traffic prone (A complaint I never understood the meaning of. Masyadong matraffic ma’am? Leche! E di sa baryo ka magpasada kung ayaw mo ng traffic!)

Maybe it exists not so much to help the issue but to make policy makers seem like they’re taking action. In reality, we’re all just fooling ourselves. Unless maybe the cards are equipped with microsensors that cause the  driver to get stun-gunned everytime he goes on “off duty” under false pretenses. But then she wakes up from the dream and remembers that this is the Philippines.