Lotte Spout Pepermint

yum yum

"God spoke to me" posted by Animats (122034) on /.

With the Holosonics Audio Spotlight [holosonics.com], you can now make people think God is talking to them! Range from 20 to 200 meters. And the speaker is just a flat black disk about a foot in diameter.

It's really clever. It works by projecting audio as two ultrasonic signals, which produces a very narrow beam. You can't hear the ultrasonic components, but the difference between them becomes audible some distance from the speaker, because air isn't entirely a linear medium. Some museums now use these things, so that the recorded message for a display is only audible in a small area. We're going to be seeing more of these very soon; the price is about to drop.

So if you hear voices in your head, start looking around for 1' diameter disks pointed in your direction. Move around a bit; the beams are very narrow.

Tribu; Mango shake w/ Rhum, Rhum Coke, and several bottles of Superdry

Had a few drinks with Anna and Allah. (details later)

Q & A on lawyers

Q: How many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Whereas the party of the first part, also known as "Lawyer", and the party of the second part, also known as "Light Bulb", do hereby and forthwith agree to a transaction wherein the party of the second part shall be removed from the current position as a result of failure to perform previously agreed upon duties, i.e., the lighting, elucidation, and otherwise illumination of the area ranging from the front (north) door, through the entryway, terminating at an area just inside the primary living area, demarcated by the beginning of the carpet, any spillover illumination being at the option of the party of the second part and not required by the aforementioned agreement between the parties.

The aforementioned removal transaction shall include, but not be limited to, the following. The party of the first part shall, with or without elevation at his option, by means of a chair, stepstool, ladder or any other means of elevation, grasp the party of the second part and rotate the party of the second part in a counter-clockwise direction, this point being tendered non-negotiable. Upon reaching a point where the party of the second part becomes fully detached from the receptacle, the party of the first part shall have the option of disposing of the party of the second part in a manner consistent with all relevant and applicable local, state and federal statutes. Once separation and disposal have been achieved, the party of the first part shall have the option of beginning installation. Aforesaid installation shall occur in a manner consistent with the reverse of the procedures described in step one of this self-same document, being careful to note that the rotation should occur in a clockwise direction, this point also being non-negotiable. The above described steps may be performed, at the option of the party of the first part, by any or all agents authorized by him, the objective being to produce the most possible revenue for the Partnership.

Shadow of a hundred birds

Passed by some friends' place earlier. I wanted to say hi to them but i figured they're probably still asleep, so i decided just to go straight home.

On my way, i felt a bit tired. Probably because of the heat or the lack of sleep. Save those times when i was as drunk as how the dogs with bouncing heads on a dashboard of a car speeding on a raod that has a thousand patches of asphalt and a few forgotten holes instead of a flat surface of concrete seem to be and the time when i felt like a chocolate bar melting slowly inside a microwave oven that's been set to cook pop corn 'cause i took one too many antibiotics, i haven't had any decent sleep for weeks or even months. It's hard to tell time when some things that are supposed to be moving slow are going fast and some things that are supposed to move fast are slowing down. Not just to the point when they reach equal speed, but up to the point when you'll think you're in a topsy-turvy world. I think i'm delusional from all those voices singing in my head. Why won't they listen to me? Why won't they stop?

If you could create an image in your head with what i've written, then you probably have an idea of how i feel right now. There are lots of ways to describe it. A clock ticking without moving. A rotating fan that you could see and hear clearly, but w/o even a lite breeze blowing at you.

I just realized how i feel earlier this morning while walking towards that overpass in Philcoa. Shadows of dozens of birds passed by on the pavement in front of me. I looked up, and just when i thought i was about to feel awe, a horrid thing happened. Somebody was killing those birds -- it seems with a slingshot and some rocks. I tried looking around to stop the person who was doing this, then i realized i was staring at a bird with one eye, holding a stone with my left hand, putting it on some rubber that's attached to a Y-shaped wooden stick that i was holding with my right hand. I felt like the pockets of my pants get deeper and it felt like it was getting heavier -- being filled with rocks. I knew it wasn't real. I saw the birds fly behind the building when i raised my head to see them. I don't even know how that slingshot looked like. It was just like a dream when you somehow recognize certain things, but don't really see then.

Stunned, I tried to ignore it and start walking. I did manage to put one foot in front of the other, and continue walking. However, the thought of what i imagined crept thru my body, filling me with what i must have felt had that really happened. I realized that i've had that feeling the whole time. It's what's been keeping me up even when i lie still in bed with my eyes closed for several hours. Before, tho, i never really knew how i feel -- there were just these sensations of my heart speeding up, my body turning numb and my tears welling up from my eyes like tea pouring forth from a cup that's still being filled even when the saucer is full.

the.scene (ep 9)

The latest release of The Scene really got me. Esp when drosan talked to griffin who turned up to be someone who knows luckychi. It's probably teflon or someone who knows about the whole Asian Mafia thingie.

Ten Stitchezes

A funny feeling
A million fingers pinching
Unceasingly, one after another
A pace so fast it's almost simultaneous

Nothing so unpleasant
But not something i'd prefer living with
Life ends where our body does
But our thoughts can last longer than our hair

The body keeps our memories
A thousand thoughts the mind refuses to keep
Scars and joints constantly in pain
Pain induced by the coldness

A weird smile that can't be wiped off
A scream that made my heart beat fast
Fast as a hundred galloping horses
Tears that made me freeze up
So sad that it kept my mouth glued together

Nose bleeding from the heat
Infuriating -- face got red
Muscles in pain from the drug
Ten stitches showing defeat
A defeat that never ends

[Smokin Popes] Need You Around

If I could see into your heart
Then would I know just where to start?
Because I'm lost and I need to be found
Crazy as it sounds
I need you around

If I could stand to be on my own
Then I would probably just leave you alone
But I'm gonna feel this way till I'm six feet underground
Crazy as it sounds
I need you around

Turning, tossing and turning
My love is burning me down

If I could change one thing in this world
I'd change your mind and make you my girl
Because I'm lost and I need to be found
Crazy as it sounds
I need you around

I'm gonna feel this way till I'm six feet underground
Crazy as it sounds
I need you around

Hungry Bassist

A lowly bassist got off the bus with nothing but a shirt and a jacket to cover a valuable instrument. Because of this, the neck and the head are able to show the four knobs with only three strings. Two years ago, the first string was broken when the bassist was trying to learn how to pop a note from that string after the slap on the topmost string. It hasn't been replaced ever since. But this didn't stop it from playing music that's most beautiful to the bassist -- nevermind that some people heard it as nothing more than noise. It never occurred to this bassist that he should make music to present as a gift to the world. To this bassist, one's music should be a present for the self. The bassist opines that music should be appreciated by others only by coincidence. Selfish it might seem however, to someone deprived of an obsession, so is the rest of the world.

With just enough money to buy two cheap pieces in one of those small bakeries that's already closed, a three kilometer walk began. The bassist slips, and almost fell flat to the ground from a slippery slanting sidewalk. Even while falling down, the bass was prioritized and was raised to make sure it won't be the first one to hit the ground. This was inspite the fact that this bassist hasn't slept for almost three days, -- save the bus ride, -- hasn't had a decent meal for half a day, and has been longing for water for two hours.

However tired, sleepy, hungry or thirsty, the bassist still persisted to walk home on a seemingly endless path. The bass held on the right and bag clutched on the left, the bassist started to hallucinate. Visions of a beauty that can never be had rushed to the mind like cold water falling down a falls. It didn't come a straight stream tho. It came like packets on a Distributed Denial-Of-Service attack -- unceasingly coming from all directions.

Memories. A pretty smile. A face immitating a fish. A secret of some old conflict. A thirty minute barf. A view that one is only either fabulous or unfabulous. A futile eight-hour search for a gown. A startling scream that was caused by a bald head just a few inches from the door. A cute voice asking what movie it was again that has Gary Oldman in it. A tendency to overreact on little things. A habit of sleeping with at least one limb hanging off the bed. These, and some more, are all from a girl that has been in the bassist's mind for years.

Beat Crusaders: Follow Me

Follow me
Baby, I won't let you leave if you believe in me
And I always set you free from all those yesteryears
But you don't know how much
I got faith in you

I was staring at your shoulder shivering
In such a coldest summer breeze
Meanwhile I wonder why we're here
Look for the line between lover and friend
We'll be twisting ourselves again

I was standing at the corner on the street
Watching the wheels are turning free
Waiting to back up on my feet
Reading a line between night and day
I'll be twisting myself again

Harmony Breaks One Second

I went to Quiapo with Gerard yesterday to buy some cd's and dvd's. We had to leave at lunch time. As a result, i just had less than hour of sleep. But it's worth it cause i got a dvd of Paradise Lost's Evolve -- some compilation of their videos from their Harmony Breaks concert, their One Second Live gig and some other promo videos. I hope Anna likes it. I'm giving it to her she doesn't already have it. I don't really like videos.

"OOYA EGAM"

I've been teaching Andel, my baby cousin (our big rat) to say my name for some months now. I repeated "kuya eman" several times for him to immitate. Last month, i finally got an "oooooyah." At least he almost got the first part.

"Say my name, baby! Say my name!" i usually say. This morning he said, "ooya," then paused a bit and continued, "egam," fast like he's trying to bite a mosquito that's flying to his mouth. Not what i really wanted, but with a little debugging of his consonants, he'll eventually say my name right.

He did the sweetest thing tho. He walked to me with that cute little smile of his and handed me, with both his hands, a ceramic angel. He just got it from the living room display and i had to return it to its shelf, but it's still a nice gesture nonetheless.

Eventually, he'll learn to speak, then i'll tell him the difference between E and E minor on the guitar. After that, he'll learn how to configure a webserver to properly serve secure http (https) traffic. That's after i teach him all about the options found in Apache's httpd.conf.

I'm talking nonsense again. Sorry for wasting your time.

The big rat's back

My cousins got here a few hours before sunrise. I can't believe our big rat still can't speak.

Audio Books are GREAT

I love Audiobooks. I'm listening to an English translation of Kafka's The Trial. Let me quote something from that audiobook:

"She held Kay apostrophe S hand..."

Another one:

"... he asked 'Where is the courtroom question mark'"

X marks the spot

The burning sensation on my torso is killing me. I've added another one, and counted all 29 of them. That's how long it's been. That's how many times i ended my day with pain for thinking about her. That's how many times i tried to keep her out of my mind. And that's how many times i've failed.

Sisyphus, In His Own Words

Welcome to my mountain, Dear Friend. I am Sisyphus, and I am very glad you could join me here. Camus wrote in The Myth of Sisyphus that "One should imagine Sisyphus happy". Whether one imagines it or not, Dear Friend, it is true- I am happy. Indeed I am amongst the happiest and freest of men. I must walk down to the plain now, but if you will come with me I will explain to you why I should be happy, and why it is that your predicament, Dear Friend, is just like mine.

As we make our way down this mountain to the rock which I must push back up to the peak only to watch it fall again, you may be wondering how it is that I could be happy. It might not seem like an enviable situation, I know. But if you will indulge me, I shall tell you how it can be, that a man as unfortunate as myself can smile on a day like this.

White chocolate capuccino, strange places, and the summer heat

This morning, i slept for more or less 2 hrs (4am - 6am). I tried going back to sleep but my bed wants to kill me by squeezing out every last drop of water in body with its hot sheets. "Nagbara" is the proper reaction for this, as the sheets feel like they've been put in an oven and cooked for 4 hrs in 700Kelvin. Nevertheless, i endured the heat and stayed sweating in bed for 3 hours -- wondering if there would ever be a time i'd enjoy this heat. At 9.00, by remembering the things i have to finish before seeing the sun go down and up again and by fear of dying of dehydration, i decided to get up, get a drink, and go on with my life.

Easier said than done. The heat has indeed gotten to me but there are other things in the crazy head of this self-absorbed egomaniac going on that's to blame for being a bum. Here it is:

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Anyone who can decrypted SHA1+MD5 encrypted messages probably can read that, but i doubt it's worth your time.

Moving on, i procrastinated for a few hours before doing some actual work. I missed breakfast and lunch, but that's nothing new. Valerie, a friend of Patrick who i work for, making the BP Int'l Shipping Corp. website, called reminding me that the deadliest deadline -- when we'll present the actual website -- for BP is tomorrow. I've completed almost everything before 13.00, but there are a few images missing, which i assume that they expect me to generate myself. No biggie. It's just a little crop here, changing color intensities there -- trivial stuff. It would've been better if Patrick's actually finished his job -- the graphics part -- before leaving for Isabela for some Multi-level marketing gimmick.

Deciding to hold the work until i got back home, i burned the cd's for Anna and took a much needed bath.

I was supposed to meet up with Anna at the CAL building, but i ended up waiting at the faculty center -- close, but not quite right. After checking out books in Nat'l Bookstore Katipunan, we parted. She went to eat at Tia Maria's and i went to Johanna's place to meet up with her Dan.

After meeting with the couple about The Project, i walked to Epoy's and Nico's place. It's no surprise that they're not there. They're probably in Mindoro or just out somewhere.

I went back to Anna's place. She freaked when she saw my face just a few inches from hers. Her scream almost gave me a heart attack, so i sat on her bed until my heartbeat and breathing went back to normal. I told Anna i went there to tell her that she has to use WinRAR for the copy of the Nightmare Before Christmas that i gave her. Ha! She told before that she knows how to use Winrar and how to open winrar files -- it follows that she knows what to do with rar files. I just wanted to hang out with her, i guess.

After watching The Amittyville Horror and her smoking a cigarette, i walked home. I wanted to go straight to Commonwealth, then thru Central Ave, but i decided that's too easy. Sinced i've tried that route before.

Going thru C.P. Garcia, i found myself entering the street near Sarah's to KNL (Krus na Ligas). The streets there fumed the heat the asphalt collected the entire day. It gave me a feeling of nausea and self-hatred. It also caused me to have a headache that feels like somebody's mixing my brain using an egg-beater. After half an hour, i escaped the maze of KNL and entered the labyrinth of Teachersville. It took me more than two hours walking around before i got home.

At home, i quickly logged on to my pc and worked on my stuff while drinking white chocolate capuccino. It is apparent that at this point, i don't feel like writing anymore.

Dad killed me in my dream

Does anyone know how to interpret dreams? Yesterday, i dreamt that i forced my dad to kill me.

This is the first dream i had -- or the first dream i remembered -- for weeks... months even. I should also mention that this was after our wall-climbing night last Monday. My upperbody's aching. I couldn't type as fast, and i can't even play the guitar without saying "ouch," "argh," or at least bite my lip.

The dream happened in a room that looks almost like our kitchen. My dad was holding a knife, cutting meat or something. As i remember, he seemed quite stressed. And i tried to get to his nerves by doing or saying something stupid -- i can't remember right now.

I'll tell you more details if you need.

Musmos sa Lansangan

Here are some of the photos i've taken for our project in LTS 2.

A digital camera was used for convenience (this was done in only 24 hrs) & money (we're all broke).

Young Zaphod Plays It Safe

The following is a short story starring Zaphod Beeblebrox that is included, among other places, in the posthumously released collection The Salmon of Doubt. We hope you enjoy it.

A large flying craft moved swiftly across the surface of an astoundingly beautiful sea. From midmorning onward it plied back and forth in great, widening arcs, and at last attracted the attention of the local islanders, a peaceful, seafood-loving people who gathered on the beach and squinted up into the blinding sun, trying to see what was there.

Any sophisticated, knowledgable person who had knocked about, seen a few things, would probably have remarked on how much the craft looked like a filing cabinet-a large and recently burgled filing cabinet lying on its back with its drawers in the air and flying. The islanders, whose experience was of a different kind, were instead struck by how little it looked like a lobster.

They chattered excitedly about its total lack of claws, its stiff, unbendy back, and the fact that it seemed to experience the greatest difficulty staying on the ground. This last feature seemed particularly funny to them. They jumped up and down on the spot a lot to demonstrate to the stupid thing that they themselves found staying on the ground the easiest thing in the world. But soon this entertainment began to pall for them. After all, since it was perfectly clear to them that the thing was not a lobster, and since their world was blessed with an abundance of things that were lobsters (a good half a dozen of which were now marching succulently up the beach towards them), they saw no reason to waste any more time on the thing, but decided instead to adjourn immediately for a late lobster lunch.

At that exact moment the craft stopped suddenly in midair, then upended itself and plunged headlong into the ocean with a great crash of spray that sent the islanders shouting into the trees. When they reemerged, nervously, a few minutes later, all they were able to see was a smoothly scarred circle of water and a few gulping bubbles.
That's odd, they said to each other between mouthfuls of the best lobster to be had anywhere in the Western Galaxy, that's the second time that's happened in a year.

The craft that wasn't a lobster dived directly to a depth of two hundred feet, and hung there in the heavy blueness, while vast masses of water swayed about it. High above, where the water was magically clear, a brilliant formation of fish flashed away. Below, where the light had difficulty reaching, the colour of the water sank to a dark and savage blue.

Here, at two hundred feet, the sun streamed feebly. A large, silk-skinned sea mammal rolled idly by, inspecting the craft with a kind of half-interest, as if it had half expected to find something of this kind round about here, and then it slid on up and away towards the rippling light.

The craft waited here for a minute or two, taking readings, and then descended another hundred feet. At this depth it was becoming seriously dark. After a moment or two the internal lights of the craft shut down, and in the second or so that passed before the main external beams suddenly stabbed out, the only visible light came from a small, hazily illuminated pink sign that read, the beeblebrox salvage and really wild stuff corporation.

The huge beams switched downwards, catching a vast shoal of silver fish, which swivelled away in silent panic.
In the dim control room that extended in a broad bow from the craft's blunt prow, four heads were gathered round a computer display that was analysing the very, very faint and intermittent signals that were emanating from deep on the seabed.

"That's it," said the owner of one of the heads finally.

"Can we be quite sure?" said the owner of another of the heads.

"One hundred per cent positive," replied the owner of the first head.

"You're one hundred per cent positive that the ship which is crashed on the bottom of this ocean is the ship which you said you were one hundred per cent positive could one hundred per cent positively never crash?" said the owner of the two remaining heads. "Hey"-he put up two of his hands-"I'm only asking."

The two officials from the Safety and Civil Reassurance Administration responded to this with a very cold stare, but the man with the odd, or rather the even number of heads, missed it. He flung himself back on the pilot couch, opened a couple of beers-one for himself and the other also for himself-stuck his feet on the console, and said "Hey, baby," through the ultra-glass at a passing fish.

"Mr. Beeblebrox . . ." began the shorter and less reassuring of the two officials in a low voice.

"Yup?" said Zaphod, rapping a suddenly empty can down on some of the more sensitive instruments. "You ready to dive? Let's go."

"Mr. Beeblebrox, let us make one thing perfectly clear . . ."

"Yeah, let's," said Zaphod. "How about this for a start. Why don't you just tell me what's really on this ship."

"We have told you," said the official. "By-products."

Zaphod exchanged weary glances with himself.

"By-products," he said. "By-products of what?"

"Processes," said the official.

"What processes?"

"Processes that are perfectly safe."

"Santa Zarquana Voostra!" exclaimed both of Zaphod's heads in chorus. "So safe that you have to build a zarking fortress ship to take the by-products to the nearest black hole and tip them in! Only it doesn't get there because the pilot does a detour-is this right?-to pick up some lobster? Okay, so the guy is cool, but . . . I mean own up, this is barking time, this is major lunch, this is stool approaching critical mass, this is . . . this is . . . total vocabulary failure!

"Shut up!" his right head yelled at his left. "We're flanging!"

He got a good calming grip on the remaining beer can.

"Listen, guys," he resumed after a moment's peace and contemplation. The two officials had said nothing. Conversation at this level was not something to which they felt they could aspire. "I just want to know," insisted Zaphod, "what you're getting me into here."

He stabbed a finger at the intermittent readings trickling over the computer screen. They meant nothing to him, but he didn't like the look of them at all. They were all squiggly, with lots of long numbers and things.

"It's breaking up, is that it?" he shouted. "It's got a hold full of epsilonic radiating aorist rods or something that'll fry this whole space sector for zillions of years back, and it's breaking up. Is that the story? Is that what we're going down to find? Am I going to come out of that wreck with even more heads?"

Next Page

Walk to the past

The day and the night were all drawn up for the story of two (still nameless) frogs. That story would've taught them to respect others cause not everyone has the same basis for what they believe in. It should've been the first ever activity that i solely executed, or at least played the biggest part of its execution. It got me down that i didn't get to do the story-telling bit yesterday. There's still gonna be a next time, tho. From the foundation, we did the obligatory routine of going to Shang food court and planning what to do next.

Marcello & Landlady Allan made plans to go to LB, and i volunteered to come along thinking that i'll probably do crap on my SP again. I walked home again after that. The same usual stuff.

Jarek came to our house yesterday afternoon. He forgot that it's Saturday and i have a class. However, after eating some of my cousin's b-day food, Jarek came and ate more with me. I asked him if he wants to join our road trip -- Mark plans to drop off Allan & his desktop there, and go back home right after. He said yes.

The trip started awkward. Jarek made a comment about the Chinese -- how they're all the same tea-pickers -- and Mark told us he came from a line of conservative Chinese family. Apologies and a long silence followed. But they eventually gotten around to talking after that.

In LB, we had a brief chat with the people hanging out the House of Second Chances, then waited for Vida who'll go back with us to Metro Manila.

Icebag Tarugo

Have you seen two blind men lead each other? It's a sad thing to see.

They started the play with the part where two dying people were used by other dead people to settle their affairs that they failed to settle when they're alive.

It's a classic "Life is wasted on the living" business.

...

The part i liked most is the one about the twins joined at their backs fighting over a guy.

The Hokey Pokey (as written by W. Shakespeare)

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within.
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Pokey,
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heaven's yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely thou canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke -- banish now thy doubt.
Verily, I say, 'tis what it's all about.