the boy with the dragon tattoo.

funny :)

It is like sex without being sexual. 

The cinema has put it as R18 owing to the sexually-oriented parts which actually substantiate the story of the movie. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo deals with sex, trauma, and a lot of violence, with a touch of racism. I haven't read the book, though I'm wanting to own the trilogy, but I read some blogs talking about it. There are a lot of books that handle such theme yet the story here was uniquely crafted when Lisbeth Salander, a goth-pierced-here-and-there-with-a-dark-haunting-childhood, was suddenly put into context. Out of curiosity, she hacked deeper into the life of Mikael Blomkvist and was suddenly riding with him in his investigation. As a know-it-all hacker, she managed to uncover more than what Blomkvist managed to unearth, thus, making Blomkvist a symphatetic journalist. But Salander brought him his salvation. Murderer found. Libel case closed. Capitalist dead. Girl with a wig. Done. 

It makes me want to read the book. And to have a dragon tattoo at my back. Fierce as Salander's. I had mine by the way which lasted weeks on my back. I didn't realize that my skin was as sensitive as my ego. The black "home-made" henna was replaced by red swelling. It's like the black ink was stripped off and VOILA! A red dragon!

the boy with the dragon tattoo (black version)

 

If you're curious about the red dragon tattoo, hmmm...Never mind. I'm on the process of healing. Hehehe. Anyhow, I hope I can have a copy of the trilogy. Weee! My birthday's coming.

doing things in a hurry.

latest sketch. boredom kills.

aanhin pa ang damo kung hindi naman ako kabayo.

At saka may kanin naman at ulam.

It’s Holy Week, particulary Black Thursday, again. Practicing Christians are deigned to abstain during this time from meat or any related food. The Church has ordered a restraining order for our mouths. Spell analogy. Most faithfuls today are spending much time in churches, or in their private places doing their penances and/or communing with God. Talking about hardcore practice of Christianity.

It is actually like an obligation to be out today and wear grim faces, not mentioning joining hours of processions and manifold forms of prayer. Christianity becomes an obligation. It becomes a routine. Its essence removed from the core, thereby producing timid, obedient, blind Christians. We become incongruous to the real faith and even think that because of such display we can pursue heaven with our own efforts. Heaven is earned through God, through Jesus. This is supposed to be the essence of the whole Holy Week scenario. The picture shows that man can’t attain salvation without Him. Well, aside from not eating meat, we are reminded today to practice abstinence that deals with our own meat, our flesh so to say, to sound human-friendly.

Our deprival of human comfort can be the key to destroy our human depravity. It’s a painful practice and we Christians call it sacrifice, penance, and whatever you want to coin it. The point is the flesh becomes our nemesis. But still we don’t do this as religion. “Because of love,” as what Father Martin in the Life of Pi said. Jesus’ performance in Calvary is a pure performance of love. And we, as Christians, do not just give him a standing ovation; instead, we go forth and deliver our own performances. Not as grand as what He had, but done out of love. Out of love.

Speaking of kabayo, I’m not neighing religious antics here. There is one, however, who neighs her own brand of religion. Rumor says that Lady Gaga is planning to release the video of her Judas this Easter Sunday. Hold your horses but Gaga will go spewing her music with Judas as her battle cry. I’ve heard the song. The techno-rock music was quite catchy with its ineluctable flow of lyrics, “Judas Juda-a-a, Judas Juda-a-a, Judas Juda-a-a, Judas…” Talking about having been smitten by Judas.

One question, “Do you know what’s the last name of Judas?” Hint: not Iscariot.

a leap of faith.

I knew two meters of jump was an impossible one. But I did it, though I killed one cup on my way.

This was actually about a peculiar game that we had during our Teachers' Summit. The player had to cross a track filled with cups which had to remain standing until the player totally reached the other end. This was a group task designed to be done by one representative and the others as guide. The glitch here was that the player had to cross blindfolded with his group mates as his guide and the other players as obstacles, or shall we say the distractions. Easy? Come to think of more than a twenty distractions and tell me if your brain will not summon all the words synonymous to confusion. This was an understatement especially when you're there trying to dissect the voice of your group mates from the disorienting noises and the pumping and thumping sound of your heart. Talking about adrenaline rush.

"Mike, can you jump?", I heard Ms. Jeni's whisper. "Yes, of course," was my immediate reply.

"Can you jump about two meters?" I thought I just heard my nervousness playing a fool out of me. "HUH?!" "Yes, can you jump two meters, Mike?", Ms. Jeni asked and this time there was conviction on her voice and there was the Jabberwocky in my heart. Two meters?!!

I remembered the movie, Jumper, in which the characters did nothing but ran and jumped. I thought maybe I could use that kind of exhibitionism. The only difference, though, was that they had powers and I got only my legs; my short, stout and unexercised legs. Jumping two meters was like breathing with one nostril, not impossible but highly improbable. Was their faith on me as long, or rather as short, as my legs? Or was my doubt as high as I could imagine my jump would be?

I closed my eyes although the blindfold was already hugging me in darkness. "Ms. Jen, I think I can do this." My doubt was resonating far across the lofty and cold mountains of Dahilayan. They reverberated dubiously masking my faked conviction and blended together with the laughters of my co-teachers. "I could do this," I told myself.

And I jumped.

And my heart jumped. The world jumped with me. I was deaf for a while when the laughters vacuumized the sound around me. There was laughter everywhere and there was me butt-flat on the ground unsparingly sitting on the oblivious, white and broken cup. I nearly did it but the cup took my victory away. Getting even, hahaha.

Our group did not win this game but the fun was worth more celebrating than the win. Sticks and stones may break my bones but jumping two meters (almost, actually) will always paint a smile on me. This was my leap of faith. And my teammates as well.