The J Poem

Holding on



Spring time is here, the leaves are here

Committed to holding on, holding on

And even when they fall, I won't yield

I'll still be holding on, holding on.

Holding on.



I found this Dear Nora song today deep in the bowels of my mp3 archives. It's funny how certain melodies convey emotions so aptly. It doesn't even have to be the lyrics, because it's when she starts hollering that you feel stubborn, defiant, triumphant even, just holding on to whatever it is.

---

I saw a quarter of Wings of Desire last Saturday. Wings of Desire won the 1987 Cannes Best Director for Wim Wenders. In 1998, Wenders made City of Angels, but it tragically pales in comparison. Wings of Desire is a poem. It opens with one, yes, but more than that, in the way the movie is shot, and the whole tone of the voice-over, you feel as if you are watching a poem. Peter Handke's Song of Childhood sets the tone:





When the child was a child

It walked with its arms swinging,

It wanted the stream to be a river,

the river a torrent,

and this puddle to be the sea.



When the child was a child,

it didn't know it was a child,

everything was full of life,

and all life was one.



When the child was a child,

it had no opinion about anything,

it had no habits,

it often sat cross-legged,

took off running,

had a cowlick in its hair,

and didn't pull a face when photographed.



And later,



When the child was a child,

It was the time of these questions:

Why am I me, and why not you?

Why am I here, and why not there?

When did time begin, and where does space end?

Isn't life under the sun just a dream?

Isn't what I see, hear and smell

just the mirage of a world before the world?

Does evil actually exist and are there people who are really evil?

How can it be that I, who I am,

wasn't before I was,

and that sometime I, the one who I am,

no longer will be the one I am?





It sounds better in German, but then it'd be a bit more difficult to understand.

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Was it a coincidence that I picked up, and read, The Bad Seed and In the Miso Soup on the same week-end? Both are about serial killers who started early on, in childhood, when most of us only have a vague idea of what murder is. It's very interesting to compare the two books though, because one is set in present-day Tokyo in the midst of the sex industry, while the other was written in the 50s, a strange novel by an equally strange author (read the preface).

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I swore I'd wait until Kill Bill Vol. 2 was on one of its last runs to see it. (I watched Vol. 1 in a virtually empty theater, just me and my Raisinets, and I loved how I was able to watch my movie in peace.) But I couldn't resist. I saw it last Saturday. The theater wasn't full as AMC was showing it in several screening rooms. What can I say. I loved it. Even though I hate Quentin Tarantino (he just loves to listen to himself talk), you can't deny the man has talent. I loved the scenes with the Chinese kung fu master, and how the camera wriggles a bit before it zooms in on the kung fu master like they do in old kung fu movies. Also, the way the film was colored and made to look like an authentic 40's detective/western/kung fu movie, depending on the story. That was cool.

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At The Body Shop, they were playing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Maps when I went in. This song is so oddly infectious. I waited for it to finish and ended up buying more stuff than I had planned to. (Attention market research specialists!)

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Last post in this horribly long, winding, fragmented post: I finally made it to beard papa's! [see close-ups of cream puffs and box taken by enthusiastic fan] Rocs (Firipin-jin) has been bugging me for the longest time to try it. When I got to the Upper West Side (76th and Broadway) location, there was a line forming outside the small stall, but it was definitely worth waiting in line for. Beard papa's makes the best cream puffs. It's fluffy and light, and not at all sweet. It's hard to describe; you have to try it yourself. I understand there's a branch in Manila. It is sort of expensive at $1.25 per, but it's so delicious you totally forget yourself and end up buying half a dozen even though you know it has to be eaten in 24 hours and no one is at home and you have to eat it all. I kept mine in the fridge though, and it still tastes fresh. I'm going to go back there to try the cheesecake slice things. Mmmm.

My not-so-bad reputation



I finished watching the Freaks and Geeks DVD. Not the whole thing, because 29 commentary tracks is no joke, just the episodes and the auditions and bloopers. I'm doing the deleted scenes next.



Anyway, in retrospect, I don't know what I'm talking about. I hung out with geeks all the time when I was fourteen. Practically everyone I knew was a geek. Geekiness was the norm in high school. The only difference is that it was science geeky as opposed to pop culture geeky. But then (you're right, Mikey) college more than made up for that.



To further illustrate: one of my friends (who was maybe 15 or 16 at the time) said that if the dorm burned down, the first thing he'd save was his thesis (Hi Deo, are you reading this?), another friend would randomly blurt out scientific names (I bet he still remembers them to this day), my band was named after the thickest part of a light wave, and I spent week-end nights at the lab (preserving angiosperms).



The best thing about it was that the geeks weren't the outcasts. In fact, geekiness was sort of proportional to popularity. Yeah, my high school was sort of twisted. It was a little bit freaky, but hey, we didn't turn out so bad.

Piano day



So today I woke up at 8:00, called in sick (there goes one of the sick days I was saving up for another mini-vacation), and woke up at noon. I felt terrible, I haven't overslept in a long time and I've forgotten what an awful feeling it is. Also lying to my boss about it being that time of the month (in tiny, pained voice: "I've got cramps...") makes me feel so damn guilty even though it works every time, sorry guys.



I ordered in from my favorite deli - a fish fillet sandwich for lunch and a mushroom burger for dinner. I got out the two books I got from Borders yesterday. (I've been buying too damn much from Borders lately. I go there everyday and I'm spending at least 30 dollars every time. This has got to stop.) So anyway, I bought two piano books - the Les Miserables score and a compilation of classics yesterday. My sister just got a new piano and I've been dying to try it out. It's one of those digital pianos that I've been suspicious of, but it turns out that it sounds and feels just like a real piano. Unlike the old keyboards which you can't accomplish dynamics on, these new ones are such perfect little creations. You can adjust how the keys feel, i.e., hard, medium, soft, and how the sound comes out - hall 1, hall 2, room, etc. It's a total marvel.



I like how I can lose myself when I play the piano. I let my mind wander. It's something that I've been able to do ever since I learned how to take naps while having my piano lessons with Ms. Hilado. My fingers would continue to move but I'd be nodding off. She'd only notice when she'd turn to me to say something about the piece, and I'd have my eyes closed. I'd wake up then because she'd poke my wrists. Those were fun times.



The classics compilation book had Fur Elise and Liebestraum and Moonlight Sonata and The Minute Waltz and Clair de Lune. Different pieces evoke memories of different people. Fur Elise was probably the first piece that I memorized. It was what everyone asked you to play and I've never enjoyed it as much as I did today. It's funny how years after my fingers can still remember the notes. They don't move as easily across the keys now. My Minute Waltz (this crazy waltz that Chopin wrote that's supposed to be played in a little more than a minute) is almost comical; it was the last piece Ms. Hilado taught me before I quit and I've never been able to nail it. Clair de Lune is my dad's favorite song and he'd always bug me to play it. Moonlight Sonata reminds me of week-end afternoons at the make-shift rec room at my old high school.



Afterwards I took out Dan Coates' arrangement of Desperado, which for some unknown bizarre reason is my LSS song.

29 commentary tracks!








Oh my God! I am loving my Freaks and Geeks DVD! How did I ever live without this? Why did I never hang out with 14-year-old geek boys? I would blog more, but I have 11 episodes to go...

Israel and Japan



Most of what we hear about Israel is what we hear on the news - bombings, assasinations, the building of fences. I didn't know much about Israel before Liat and Mike, members of Israel at Heart's current delegation to the US, talked about life in Israel as twenty-somethings. Liat came to Israel as a child, from Ethiopia. Her family walked for 12 days and stayed in a refugee camp in Egypt (?) for a year and a half before they were finally flown to Israel. There were casualties along the way and in the refugee camp, which she said was the worst experience she has ever had. Mike was born and raised in England. He moved to Israel when he turned 18, leaving his parents behind, and was drafted into the military and served for two years. He told us about how difficult it was to defend yourself against a Palestinian child who has been trained to attack. Before Saturday night, I had felt little empathy to the cause of the Jews in Israel. But listening to them talk about the sense of belonging that they felt in Israel, I felt their passion towards their country. Liat's coming to Israel was the end of a two-year-long journey, and Mike could have chosen to stay in England. Surely he wouldn't have been dodging bombs or carrying an M-16 there. This year, Joey Low brought 40 students to the US to talk about Israel. As far as I know, he founded the organization and takes care of the funding himself.



Israel at heart is an independent entity, whose single concern is the well being of Israel. We wish to do everything we can to promote a better understanding of Israel and its people. We are not part of any Jewish organization, do not represent any government agency or political party and are, therefore, free to express ourselves in any way we wish.



We believe that Israel has been unfairly portrayed in the media. It is not simply that it has gotten a bad deal from the world press, but more importantly, its significance as the only free democratic society in the Middle East has not been conveyed to the public at large. We are hopeful that if people truly understood what their Israeli counterparts are going through, they would be more supportive of Israel?s struggle.



While we aim to reach as diverse a group as possible, we have specifically chosen college campuses as the centerpiece of this effort. By targeting the leaders of tomorrow and one of the most misinformed groups, we think we can have the greatest impact. Accordingly, we think Israel?s best ambassadors are likely well-educated students that are fluent in the language of the country they visit. These Israelis have completed their military service and are between the ages of 21 and 27. They carry opinion sets and life stories that demonstrate the diversity within Israeli society-one of its greatest assets. By simply telling the stories of their lives, we hope they can begin to change the way people see Israel and its people.



We hope our efforts will convince more people to take a trip to Israel, study after high school there, do a junior year abroad program at one of its many universities, call a friend to let them know they care, buy an Israeli product, and most importantly, educate themselves about the conflict, so they can defend Israel against verbal attacks by its enemies.



Our efforts to date have centered on speaking tours for groups of young Israelis like those described above. The success we?ve seen has been overwhelming, and we have just completed our biggest trip yet. We find that no matter who is in the audience, because the stories these Israelis tell are so real, people?s views are changed forever.





If you want them to speak at your school/organization, the email address is info@israelatheart.com.



Liat said that the kids over there basically live lives that aren't that different from ours. They go to clubs and hang out with their friends. She said travelling to Israel, with a group tour, is quite safe.

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If you left your umbrella in the subway in Japan, chances are it's at the Tokyo Metropolitan Lost and Found Center, which is four stories, and is filled up to the kazoo with umbrellas.



I am posting the full story from the New York Times because I think it's amazing.





Never Lost, but Found Daily: Japanese Honesty

By NORIMITSU ONISHI



Published: January 8, 2004





TOKYO, Jan. 7 ? Anywhere else perhaps, a shiny cellphone fallen on the backseat of a taxi, a nondescript umbrella left leaning against a subway door, a wad of cash dropped on a sidewalk, would be lost forever, the owners resigned to the vicissitudes of big city life.



But here in Tokyo, with 8 million people in the city and 33 million in the metropolitan area, these items and thousands more would probably find their way to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Lost and Found Center. In a four-story warehouse, hundreds of thousands of lost objects are meticulously catalogued according to the date and location of discovery, and the information put in a database.



Smaller lost-and-found centers exist all over Japan, based on a 1,300-year-old system that long preceded Japan's unification as a nation and its urbanization. More recently, it has apparently survived an economic slump that has contributed to the general rise in crime.



Consider that in 2002 people found and brought to the Tokyo center $23 million in cash, 72 percent of which was returned to the owners, once they had persuaded the police it was theirs. About 19 percent of it went to the finders after no one claimed the money for half a year.



If the original owner is not found after half a year, the finder can claim the object or money. But most finders don't bother making any claims, and the objects and proceeds usually end up going to the Tokyo government.



Hitomi Sasaki, 24, sporting a suntan and a nose-pierce, found $250 in a tray under a plant outside the restaurant where she works.



"I always hand in something I find, like purses," said Ms. Sasaki, who had come to claim the money after waiting half a year. "I imagine that a person might be in trouble, losing money or a purse."



"I used to live in Chicago, so I can tell you how wonderful this is," she said. "Inside the center, I saw a woman come to pick up an umbrella today. Only for an umbrella. It's something almost impossible to imagine in other cities in the world."



Children are taught from early on to hand in anything they find to the police in their neighborhoods. So most of the 200 to 300 people who come to the center every day take the system for granted, as did Tatsuya Kozu, 27, who had just retrieved his leather business card case.



"I'm glad," he said. "I just dropped by here to pick it up, since my office is nearby."



On a recent morning, shelves were heaving under bags containing lost items that spoke of the rhythms of commuting life: keys, glasses, wallets, cellphones, bags. A small bicycle helmet with "Suzuki" on it and a toy horse testified perhaps to a child's fickleness.



Skis and golf bags attested perhaps less to misplacement than to an abandoned hobby; unclaimed wedding bands perhaps spoke of the end of something larger.



Wheelchairs and crutches were harder to explain, though Nobuo Hasuda, 54, and Hitoshi Shitara, 47, veteran officials of the lost-and-found system, had well-rehearsed lines.



"I wonder what happened to the owners," Mr. Shitara said.



Mr. Hasuda said with a smile, "If they didn't need them anymore because they got better, it's a good thing."



One floor was a sea of umbrellas, the most commonly lost item ? 330,000 in 2002, or 3,200 for every good rainfall ? and, at a rate of 0.3 percent, the least reclaimed.



The low rate is an indication of how rapidly Japan has grown rich in the span of a few generations. "In the past," Mr. Shitara said, "one person barely had one umbrella, or a family had to share one. So your father scolded you if you lost an umbrella."



Everything changes. Mr. Hasuda remembered that at a local lost-and-found center decades ago, people brought in cabbages, radishes, oranges and other vegetables and fruit they had found. Because the products would spoil, the police sold them at a bargain to the finders. Nowadays, fearing contamination, the authorities immediately dispose of any food.



The item with the highest return rate ? 75 percent ? is the cellphone, which has flooded the center in the last three years. Owners typically call their own phones, or the center traces the owners through their subscription and sends a notification postcard.



The lost-and-found property system dates to a code written in the year 718, according to Hideo Fukunaga, a former police official who wrote a book on the subject, "Notes on the Law on Lost Property."



Back then, lost goods, animals and, mysteriously, servants had to be handed over to a government official within five days of being found. After a year, the government took over the belongings, though the owner could still reclaim them. The code stipulated that people had no right to keep lumber found adrift in a flood.



In the 18th century, finders were given more rights and were rewarded with a certain value of the found property. Finders who did not hand in objects were severely punished. According to Mr. Fukunaga's book, in 1733 two officials who kept a parcel of clothing were led around town and executed.



A new law was created in the late 19th century and then reformed most recently in 1958. Currently, a finder must hand in an object to the authorities within seven days, or lose the right to a reward or ownership. In the case of lost money, if the original owner is found, the finder has the right to claim 5 to 20 percent of the sum, though usually it is 10 percent.



Today, the authorities are thinking of ways to update the system by creating an Internet listing of the items at all lost-and-found centers nationwide, or at least those in Tokyo. The system's survival, though, will depend less on technology than on simple honesty.



Last June, Tsutomu Hirahaya, 55, a photographer, found 13,000 yen ? about $120 ? on a counter at a betting booth. He handed over the money to an employee and left his name and address. A few weeks ago, he received a postcard from the police informing him the cash was his.



"I feel uncomfortable holding another person's money," Mr. Hirahaya said "I think many Japanese people feel the same way and hand over something they find. I think among Japanese there's still a sense of community since ancient times."





If you want to get your stolen phone back in Manila, you have to buy it back in Recto, where stolen things are re-sold.

Domain down Up and running






It was a picture perfect day in DC.

We spent 15 minutes taking pictures of what we later realized was the BACK of the Capitol.

Cops lined the road leading to the White House, the entrance was blocked, and sirens went off. Somebody important must be arriving, we said. We didn't stick around long enough to find out.

I like this sculpture. At the National Gallery of Art.

This guy sold photos with a cardboard cut-out of Bush for $5.

Industrial spider with long, spindly legs.

There are so many nice buildings in DC, and half of them have inscriptions.

On the way to Virginia Beach.

Stalls along the main avenue.

The beach was deserted except for a few kids throwing frisbees, oblivious to the cold.

This is me, reflected on an aquarium at the Virginia Marine Science Museum. Also posted at mirrorproject.

We sat on a bench by the shore and pretended not to be shivering.

Randomness of random things



I would very much like to post pictures and kuwento (stories) but I have to wait for my new host. Easyspace sucks big time, man. They put banners on your page, and you have to pay an additional 45 bucks to have them taken out. I had to pay $7.50 so I could transfer my domain.



In the meantime, interesting story (for me, haha). The other day I fell asleep on the subway and woke up only when the lady beside me said it was the last stop. Thank God for the kindness of strangers, or I would have found myself in an empty train in the middle of who-knows-where. I didn't want to cross the platform and take the train going the opposite way as soon as I stepped off the train because I was terribly embarrassed, of course. So I exited and found myself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. It was like being in a suspense/thriller movie. The lead character takes the train, falls asleep and finds himself in a strange neighborhood, unlike any he has ever been to. He tries to reach his destination but he keeps falling asleep and missing his stop and finding himself in unfamiliar places. Of course, I was only about twenty blocks away from home, so it wasn't exactly that strange, but indulge my imagination I'm bored. There was a library right there though, so I went in and borrowed a couple of books.



Bill got the apprentice position. I thought he deserved to win even though he did resemble a hurricane in the last episode. Donald Trump wanted to copyright "You're fired" but apparently it's already owned by some woman in the midwest who stamps it on the bottom of her pottery.



Some bored Asian guys made their own milk and cereal. I liked this better than the other one, although why I would take the time to compare them is beyond me.



Yesterday, I downloaded a Gloria Estefan song. Fool, don't judge me.

Dizzy



Spending the week-end with my friends was awesome. We drove around in circles in DC and Virginia but I had the best time. I love my friends! (Pictures next time, maybe.)

Week-ender






view from one of my favorite spots

I'm off to DC, kids.

Oh, shit



Pisay suicide