Saturday, June 24, 2006

Why Do I?

I think I’m on the verge of some testosterone overload. Don’t get your hopes up. There’s nothing sexual about my first statement.

It’s just that I am presently kind of trapped with my dad and three brothers. It’s been more than a month since my sister left for the country she now serves and it’s been two weeks since my mom flew south of the country I serve. I don’t know. The women in my family seem to be leaving us, men.

See? Testosterone overload.

I can humor you all night about living with two men and two boys, yet it will not solve what this situation may do to me. We do not have sufficient proof that I have enough XX chromosomes to keep me, well, female. I worry that if mom doesn’t come back soon, I might grow a mustache, a beard, or both.

* * *

If you read me regularly, you might notice how actively I have been blogging lately. It is a good sign. It means I am writing again. And I have conquered constipation. Then again, it means I have been withdrawing myself from society and spending more time in front of a PC. Now that is not at all healthy (not only for my social life but also for our electric bill).

Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Why I maintain a blog? Why I document the things that happen to me? Why I come up with movie reviews? Why I talk to myself in case no one reads me?

For one, there are some people I do not see or talk to as often as I did before whom I want to update about me. My sister, for example. We used to talk a lot or seem to talk a lot. Now, we are lucky if we communicate at least once a week. By communicate I mean share trivial things—our day’s highs and lows—not discuss business. I know she’s always out there stuck with her laptop. I might as well entertain her on how I have been wasting my life if and when she goes online.

Another reason maybe is to save myself from bursting. I have to unload my thoughts somewhere, otherwise I will lack more sleep than I do now. I refuse to become a full-time zombie. Probably once or twice a week is fine, but 24/7? I don’t think so. Besides this is the best way I can practice what I have stayed in college for four and a half years.

The final and most sentimental reason has something to do with remembering and sharing. I think that events and thoughts are too good to forget or to keep to oneself. With this blog, I feel secured that I will be able to remember and share.

* * *

Speaking of, I have another anecdote to tell. I was walking on the way home (why do I sense a grammatical error there?) when I passed by a little girl who was coaching a younger sibling on how to talk. Anyway I caught her saying “teacher” as she was looking at me. I glanced back at her only to witness her next words, “sabihin mo teacher.” (She gestures at me like she were certain that I am a teacher.)

I released an incredulous and disappointed, high-pitched “ahh” which I think scared the poor girl. Yes there is nothing wrong about looking like a teacher. If you are a teacher.

I am not.

So don’t ask me why I hate my uniform!

* * *

I have got to do something about talking to myself aloud in public to avoid scaring not just kids but people in general.

Once while aimlessly walking around a mall, I heard a guy singing or, more precisely, desecrating U2’s With or Without You in one of those gadget shops selling Magic Sing. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing aloud and from saying, “you have got to be kidding me” like I were talking to someone with flesh and bones standing beside me. I wonder how many people think I am a schizo by now.

Back in college while I was ascending the stairs leading to the humanities department, I received a text message from a creepy classmate. In 160 characters or less, he tried to profess his “infatuation” towards me. (Note: The dictionary meaning of infatuation, as it turns out, is “foolish and usually extravagant short-lived passion or love or admiration.” Yikes!)

My instant response to the said stimulus was a loud “#&*^_@ +$\! (profanity in Filipino) Sabi ko na nga ba di ako dapat nag-pipink!”

Yes I was wearing a pink shirt that day.

* * *

I know I am not the prettiest entity with boobs so I do not have the right to be extremely mean to men. However I, more often than not, could not help it.

Take this (exact) message from an aspiring anonymous texter who thought I was a moron not to have an idea who he is. By the way, I am publishing his real mobile number. I'm trying to enjoy this the best way possible.

09274489689: Hello good morning! How r u have a nice day hope that God is alway their for u pwede po bang makipagkaibigan ako pala si Romeo single Tyeren din ba pangalan mo

My reply: Sori, dnt lyk dumb ppl. Ur 4x guilty: 1.Romeo-such lame alias! 2.Tyeren-wrong spelng 3.Horrendous grammar 4.4 thinking Id txt bak after this. Nice try. Gud day.

Who says being mean isn’t fun?


it is one of the funnest fun things there are!
Posted by: Poli | June 25, 2006 08:29 AM

Teacher. It's better being called a teacher even if you're not one than being asked at a bookstore if the bookstore sells this type of paper because the stupid woman didn't see that the bookstore's employees' uniform is different from the f*cking uniform you are wearing which your damn office required you to wear because they feel harrased whenever you dress in corporate attire knowing that you are the sexiest and youngest employee in your workplace. =)
Posted by: Badger Addict | August 5, 2006 06:05 AM

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Lost…aren’t we all? (Part 2)

Sometimes, clouded emotions can help us find our way towards things we would not have found if we weren’t…sort of lost.

An example is how one disappointing afternoon at home led to a fun solitary time at the movies, specifically, the Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveroz movie.

This calls for a review on the said film which I may call, Ang Pagbibinata ni Ping Medina. (You will soon find out that this title does not have anything to do with my piece.)

So here goes:

The problem with non-commercial films is their deficiency in visual spectacle only expensive technology can provide. And we all know that visual spectacle is the in thing today, thus the abundance of the telefantasia genre. Just as expected, Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveroz came short of such pop flavor. It even lost some more points for its far from perfect technical make up. There were slight inconsistencies in the quality of moving pictures which were supposed to show one scene taken from different angles. One angle shot had normal lighting while the other appeared too warm and yellow. Then there’s that loud background music, not to mention noise, which was almost always on the verge of drowning the characters’ dialogues.

However, the movie was able to get away with these shortcomings. Its being a non-commercial film alone frees it from all the enumerated faults, leaving us with its story and its acters to discuss. (Blogger’s note: The use of “acters” is intentional. It is the nonsexist way of addressing people engaged in such occupation.)Then again the movie is set in the slums, probably the last place we’ll expect anything spectacularly grand and grandly spectacular.

Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveroz is based on a plot that is expected from any independent film--one that explores the life of an ordinary person and one with social relevance. And in the tradition of the said genre, it always helps to throw in poverty to make the whole thing work. But as I have said, the film pulled it off no matter how I seem to be trying to imply that it is just some independent film cliché. Perhaps its redeeming value lies on the build up of its characters.

For one, it revolves around the lead character, Maximo, otherwise called Maxi, a preteen gay from the slums. Let it be said that, although Maximo’s gender leans towards the alanganin side, he was portrayed with dignity. His family, composed of three men and him, loved him so much and showed no signs of indifference towards his preferred lifestyle. Then there’s his dad, Paco who snatches mobile phones for a living. And although he steals, he tries to raise his children with the few remaining values he knows. However he fails with Boy, Maximo’s eldest brother. Boy seemed to have already been corrupted by the life he was born into and commits a murder. On the other hand, the second brother, Bogs (played by Ping Medina), learns to live with life in the slums better than the other kuya. He is the typical astig istambay who sidelines as a jueteng kubrador. It was clearly shown that there is sweetness in his roughness which makes him the second most loveable character in the movie, next to Maximo.

Another character in the movie is Victor Perez, the cop who captures the heart of young Maximo. We see him struggle in the perverted world of men with badges, he hangs out with the wrong “mentor” and guess who he helps kill in the end? (That I will not tell.)

The movie deserves credit for creating three dimensional characters, the opposite of which is the downfall of majority of commercial Filipino films these days. The characters actions do have a basis. There are reasons behind their behavior and those reasons were clearly shown in the film. There’s nothing complex about the movie much like life in the slums--it’s too simple that it sees no rules or laws to follow.

For an hour and a few minutes, the film successfully draws us to a world which exists in real life, the world of Maximo Oliveroz, the little boy who was loved and in return knew how to love.

* * *This is the review I promised Ms. Lala that has been long overdue and has been

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Back To The Basics

Simple lang naman ang buhay e. Ewan ko ba kung bakit madalas pinapa-complicate natin, pinapa-complicate ko. Kaya siguro dapat kong alalahanin ang mga simpleng happy thoughts ko.

Isa sa mga oldest memories ko ay yaong sa house number 1. Alas kwatro ng umaga ako nagigising noon. Aga no? Tapos ngayon hirap na hirap akong gumising ng six. Kapag medyo sikat na ang araw, sinasama ako ng daddy ko sa me kanto para bumili ng dyaryo. Bilang bonus, binibilhan nya ako ng favorite kong hopia. Ayos na ang araw!

Favorite pasalubong ko yung ET. Swerte talaga pag nag-uuwi si Mommy ng isang buong sari-sari store pack! At least yon, tig-three to four packs kaming tatlong magkakapatid. Pag hapit ang budget, isang Stork lang ang uwi nya. Matibay ang ngipin ko kaya ako ang tagahati nung Stork. Kinakagat ko para mabasag. Tapos yon, hating kapatid na.

One of the earliest Christmas memories ko ay sa house number 1 pa rin. Wala kaming Christmas tree. Well, meron pero two-dimensional lang. Gumawa lang kasi si Mommy ng outline sa pader namin using a green fuzzy metallic bough. Nung nakaluwag sya, pinalibutan nya yon ng 50-bulb blinking lights. Never akong naniwala na may Santa Clause. OK na rin yon. At least di ko kailangang ma-disillusion sa existence ng matabang mamang naka-red. Ang alam ko kasing Santa ay yung nakita namin sa Greenhills na nagtitinda ng candy. Hindi yon joke.

Hindi naman ako deprived sa gifts. Da best yung nasa hagdan kami ni Ate, sobrang excited kaming buksan yung regalo namin. Barbie ang laman! Yun ang one and only Barbie doll ko. Bad trip lang kasi the next day, putol agad ang ulo nya. Pinapalipad ko kasi, e di ko nasalo. Ayon tanggal ang ulo sa socket, nabali pa ang socket. Nagkaroon tuloy ng distinct personality ang Barbie ko. Naging punggok!

Another Christmas memory ay nung tatlo lang kaming nagpasko sa bahay. Pagkakaalala ko nasa ospital si Mommy at si Bunso. Nahulog kasi si Bunso sa hagdan. Hobby nya yon, ang mahulog sa hagdan. Anyway hinugot namin ni Ate yung gift sa ilalim ng sofa. (Two-dimensional pa rin ang Christmas tree namin noon.) Tig-isa kami ng plantsa. Yellow sa akin. Pink kay Ate. Ang saya saya ko. Parang totoo kasi yung plantsa—complete with kabayo! Pero ngayon, muhing-muhi ako sa plantsa.

Nung preschool na ako, gusto ko lang maunang matapos ang row namin (na column pala) sa mga activities para mauna kaming maghugas ng kamay at mamili ng placemat pag recess. Ayaw ko kasi nung red na bilog. Gusto ko yung blue na rectangle o kaya yung brown na square placemat. Maliit kasi yung red; lumalampas ang baunan ko. Bad trip lang pag nakakatulog ako sa class. Madalas ngang mangyari yon. Nagigising na lang ako kasi may nagtatap ng stick sa table ko. Huli na pala ako ng teacher ko. Pinapa-jump ako ng ___x—depende yata kung gaano katagal akong tulog.

Nung gradeschool naman, no problem talaga. Kelangan ko lang pumasok. Di kasi ako grade-conscious. Parang di nga yata ako nag-rereview sa test. Swerte lang dahil pumapasa naman ako, at minsan nasa top ten pa ng klase. Hindi ako masyadong nagnonotes. Pangit kasi ako magsulat kaya di ko rin naman mababasa. Mabagal din akong kumopya kaya di ko natatapos. Minsan naman talagang inaatake lang ako ng ADHD kaya heading lang ang kinokopya ko. Wala akong sense ng order o chronology kaya kung saan ko mabuksan ang notebook, doon ako nagsusulat. Ewan ko kung bakit ngayon, sobrang alipin ako ng order, ng date, ng chronology.

Nung high school, total high sa akin ang magreport sa harap ng klase. Yun ang best time ko to feed my star complex. Dami kong gimmick! Gamit na gamit ko ang Stabilo Boss collection ko. Nilalagyan ko pa ng glitters ang visual aids ko para maganda. Gusto ko kasi macolor ang mga props ko. Type na type ko rin ang mga role playing. Big break ko yata noon yung role ko na Muchacho sa play na “Wanted: A Chaperone.” Astig! Nakapag-mura ako on-stage. Not everyday makakalusot ang pagsabi ng “gago” sa isang Catholic school for girls. OK din yung magsasaka role ko sa panel interview kuno namin sa speech. Ako yata si Mang Art, Batangueñong magsasaka sa Cebu. Sumablay lang nga ako sa accent ko noon kasi biglang naging Cebuano e Batangueño nga ako! Favorite ko yung nagmonologue ako sa class as Llanares, character sa Noli Me Tangere. Extemporaneous kasi yon. Sinabihan lang ako ng classmate ko the day before kung gusto ko ng extra grade, magdala ako ng costume. Yun pala kailangang mag-speech sa harap. Buti na lang nabasa ko yung assigned chapter kundi patay! Lahat yan hilarious. Yun lang kasi ang alam kong way para makuha ang attention ng mga classmates ko para di ko sila ma-bore. Palakpak talaga ang tenga ko everytime na napapatawa ko sila. Aba dream ko yatang maging class clown!

Puro pang boy ang roles ko no? Wala kasing boys sa school. Tapos mas madaling maghanap ng costume pag lalaki ang role. In fact nagpabili na ako sa mommy ko ng sarili kong camisa de chino na nasulit naman sa dami ng guy roles ko!

Nung college naman, precious sa akin ang mga panahon ng pagtatanga sa dorm, sa Hum steps, sa likod ng main lib. Tapos kahit na anong trip kong look pwede. Kapag feel kong magmaganda, nagfoformal ako. Kapag tinatamad ako, tsinelas and tibak look. Minsan naman natripan kong pumasok suot ang pinantulog ko. Buti talaga di ako hinabol ng plantsa!

Dahil malayo ako sa pamilya ko, nakatagpo ako ng barkadang nagsilbing pamilya ko doon. Sila yung nakakasabay ko sa almusal, tanghalian o kaya hapunan. Minsan pag may tinatapos kaming papers, sa isang dorm na rin kaming lahat natutulog. Pag ganoon kasi mahihiya kang tulugan ang trabaho. Kapal nga namin kasi regular ang pag-crash namin sa dorm ng isang berk na naging dorm ng dalawang berks, na naging dorm ng tatlong berks, na naging dorm ng limang berks.

Da best talaga pag umaakyat kami ng bubong. As in yero na nakatagilid. Aakyat ka ng tangke ng tubig para marating ang bubong ng second floor nung dorm. Noon lang ako nakakita ng multiple shooting stars in one night! Tapos doon kami nagkukwentuhan, not necessarily usap. Minsan kahit di kami nagsasalita, nakakapagkwentuhan na kame.

Syempre kinareer ko pa rin ang mga speech classes ko. Ninenerbyos ako, yes, pero enjoy e. Lalo pag nagrereact ang mga classmates ko. Mas lalo pag pati di ko classmate may reaksyon. Nagtataka lang ako kasi ngayon ang bulol ko. Sa English pa! Parang di ako naka-uno sa Voice and Diction class ko noon. Nakakahiya tuloy!

Sa bahay naman, mas na-appreciate ko ang pamilya ko. Minsan ko na lang kasi sila makasama kaya every minute counts na. Lalo na sa dalawang pahabol kong kapatid. Nagkaroon kasi ng dalawang pahabol kaya naging lima na kami. Masaya kasi nakakabuo kami ng dalawang team para sa charades. Tapos bigla akong nagkababy in the form of my two brothers. Nakita ko kasi sila since nasa tyan sila ni Mommy hangang ngayong mas matangkad na sila sa akin. Patok din sa akin ang mga joke time namin at mga movie marathon.

Maalala ko lang ang mga ganyang bagay, OK na ako ulit. Iba na kasi ngayon. Kelangan kong mag-grow up. Nireresist ko sya pero di pwede. May pressure na. At hello, 26 na ako! Whether I like it or not kelangan kong maging adult. Sa ngayon, ang worst thing about being an adult para sa akin ay ang pera. Parang forced kang magkapera, magbudget ng pera, at kumita pa ng pera. Di lang root of all evil ang money ngayon. Root of all wrinkles pa sya. Ang pangit! Dati go lang ng go! Deadma kung low budget. Pero ngayon, kailangan ng maraming pera para maraming saya.

Yun ang malungkot.

Kaya naman sa panahong problema ang pera, inaalala ko na lang ang mga sayang naranasan ko sa gitna ng karukhaan. Only then do I remember na di lang pera ang susi sa happiness. Na pwedeng sumaya even without any money involved. Na simple lang naman talaga ang buhay at kahit adult na ako, pwede ko pa ring panatilihing simple ang buhay.


Tapos nakakahanap na tyo ng comfort sa routine. Nakikita natin ang secutrity ng consistency. Parang dati, dapat palaging bago, palaging iba. Ngayon, pag may nawala sa pattern nakakapang panic. Hindi normal... hindi tama. nakakapag alala. nakakapang wrinkles...
Posted by: Jab | June 18, 2006 12:46 AM

totoo! =)
Posted by: Jea | June 19, 2006 06:09 AM

Salamat sa comment, Jea & Jab.
Sana ay wrinkle-free kayo ngayon!
Posted by: Tyrene | June 19, 2006 06:56 AM

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

It’s my birthday and I’m the bomb!

Weird things happen even when you’re 26.

Today, I was asked, “how does it feel to be 26?” Last year I had to answer, “how does it feel to be 25?” Whew! This is beginning to be a formula question where the age is the variable which is in constant increment of one whole number a year. (Notice that I am trying to sound mathematical despite the lack of complicated math in my life for the past four years.)

I foresee yet another question of this format next year, so I am answering it now: Being (fill in with present age) is no different from being (fill in with previous age). I went to bed last night and woke up today, and I’m still the same ‘ol me. The only difference is, I have to add 1 to my age.

* * *

If my Japanese is still properly tuned, then I am correct when I say that June 14 in Japanese is rokugatsu ju-yokka. (For the record, I am not holding any of my JAP 10 & JAP 11 notes.)

Other people celebrating their birthdays today are as follows: My sister’s fiancé’s dad (zi family iz growing, eh?), Donald trump (Do I smell riches?!), Boy George (Chama-chama-chama-chameleoooonnn! It comes and goes, it comes and go-oohohs!), John Estrada (No comment!) and Anton Diva (2 gays?! What does this say?!?).

To all of them, Otanjoobi omedetoo!

* * *

My youngest brother told me that I should not go to work today since it is my birthday. I told him that I am not used to staying at home on the 14th of June. My birthday almost always falls on a school day and there’s no such thing as birthday leaves in school. School had kept me busy on my birthday for 17 and a half years. I am not about to let work interfere with my self-proclaimed tradition.

It proved to be a good decision. Today, we were dismissed 10 minutes earlier than usual. It was a big wow. Could it be that I am THAT important that the management gave me and my officemates 10 extra (precious) minutes to live our own lives as free individuals?

Apparently that was not the case.

Unless I am the bomb threatening our building.

* * *

Last Friday, the last Friday night I spent being 25 (Charos!), I re-watched X-men3. I went home pretty late. On the way home, when the FX I was riding turned right at the corner of Canley Road, the headlights spotted a tall guy in drag (as in drag queen, I hope my spelling is correct). He immediately ducked as if we caught him doing something really bad whereas he was just there, in a black dress, fully made up with a long black wig. I felt sorry for him for thinking that he was doing something wrong. I really wish the day will come when he can strut his stuff without having to hide from anyone.

Other films I have seen twice on the silver screen are as follows: Forrest Gump, The Sixth Sense, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and (again) X-men3.

* * *

A few days ago, I was talking to my Greek friend, Eros. I prefer the Greek him than the Roman one. I don’t like him to go pop. Maybe one day I will document what I have been telling him. He ends here for now.

Incidentally, I had this offer last Friday to become a case study for an upcoming TV show. Geezz, I’m a case study! Why do I feel like I am a freak? Hmmm…

Over a nice meal at French Baker, I was interviewed by a FRIEND/TV show researcher why I haven’t had any boyfriend for 26 years. Was I insulted? No. Not really, more like caught off-guard. You see, I write about it often but I seldom talk about it.

She told me that that was precisely the reason why she had chosen me to be her case study. Because I had rich opinion on the matter. I told her I will “appear” on her show only in silhouette. Seriously, I couldn’t say yes. The offer was tempting, after all they will be give me a makeover. I believe that there’s no such thing as instant “makeover”, I just want the free expensive pampering. That’s all. However, there is a catch: the “makeover” is in preparation for a blind date. I would have said yes right away if the date was Ivan Mayrina. Bwehehe. (I can’t help but laugh. Excuse me.)

Being the show’s case study on what may be its pilot episode would have given me the opportunity to correct the notion the we, NBSBs (No Boyfriend Since Birth), are who we are because we have no other choice but be. On the other hand, some of us choose to be, maybe in the mean time, or for a few more years or maybe permanently. The thing is, we don’t want people’s pity. WE ARE NO LESS THAN ANYONE ELSE JUST BECAUSE WE HAVE NOT BEEN PART OF A COUPLE. In spite of it all, we are happy, genuinely happy.

Why don’t I take the offer? Because for a silly makeover I will be selling myself short. I will go against my principles. I will be contradicting what I told my Greek friend, Eros. Specifically that about me not planning to beautify myself just to snatch some guy. Because going on a blind date on national television at that, will be a forced step to a relationship, maybe not with the blind date but to relationship in general (and I am one famous for sticking to my own pace). Because I will not be me if I say yes.

* * *

The day is coming to an end and so is this entry. But before I go, allow me to thank everyone who sent their wishes, greetings, and happy thoughts. And, yes, we at Hallmark receive birthday cards on our birthdays. In fact, I received two today. I especially appreciate the size 49 card with paperstock Vellum 180, singlefold, full-color inside signed by almost everyone in our department.

That and the bomb threat make my 26th birthday quite explosive!

Thursday, June 8, 2006

Final Word on the Da Vinci Code

A lot of people have said their piece. I would have opted to stay a silent spectator to this pretending-to-be-religious rollercoaster if not for my temper. Besides, what kind of a writer am I if I would not do my share in plucking out the truth?

Here’s what I have to say:

The Da Vinci Code controversy is not more than a blasphemy to the Christian faith than it is a blasphemy to our being. A movie based on a self-confessed fictitious book being banned in cinemas and even in one city, people out in the streets protesting against fiction, a bestseller being burned just to make a statement, empty arguments among conservatives—I don’t think those are signs that we deserve the faith we pretend to defend.

The Da Vinci Code, contrary to what people have been ranting about, is not a test of our faith but rather a test of our intellect. With the way our leaders and so-called elders, together with a number of “active” youth, react against it, we seem to have flunked the test. We manage to display how much of a baby we are. By doing so, we have just insulted the highly complex mental faculties God blessed us with.

No wonder we are having a hard time moving towards anywhere near progress. We can barely keep a mature mind, let alone an open one, to something which from the start has been declared fiction. Dan Brown said it. Try opening the book. You need not go far to see Dan Brown’s disclaimer. I bet majority of the people dipping their toes in this issue have not read any part the book. They have ripped its pages, burned the cover, and, in the process, wasted their money and energy. Then they added to the flame of their wrath pirated VCD and DVD copies of The Da Vinci Code movie. They might as well have thrown in all pirated discs while they were at it. Edu Manzano would.

We have seen people, active church individuals who are not necessarily priests or nuns, being interviewed on television. Yes they are passionate for their cause but do they sound like they know what they are talking about? No! Because obviously they have not read the book nor have they seen the film. Someone just told them that there is this movie based on some book which challenges the divinity of their god. That is when they panicked. That is when they forgot that, if indeed the devotion of their followers were strong, it will take more than a book or a movie to strip them off of their faith.

I, for one, am more predisposed to lose my faith inside the Church than in front of any form of entertainment. I remember watching The Last Temptation of Christ when I was a child. I cannot recall why I was allowed to see it but I saw it anyway. The said movie presents a more detailed, not to mention a more graphic portrayal of Jesus’ life and relationship with Mary Magdalene. Even with a minor’s level of understanding, I never ended up doubting Jesus’ divinity or questioned my religion. I did not have to hit the age of majority to be able to grasp that what I saw had nothing to do with my faith, that it was just a movie.

Yes, you will seldom see me in Church nowadays, probably even less than seldom. Witnessing the so-called “servants of the Lord” (again, this phrase is not exclusive to those belonging to the religious order) do things which I know their lord would not approve of explains my absence in the religion I was baptized into.

I can hardly understand why “conservatives” are reacting rather late to Dan Brown’s work. The book had been out a year ago, maybe even earlier. It had been a bestseller since then. Meaning it has already reached many people—those who could afford to buy the book, those who had connections to acquire the book even temporarily, and those who had someone willing to share with them the story contained in the book. That is quite a network of our people! It looks like the anti-Da Vinci Coders have not been hanging out in bookstores in the past year or so. Then again, they may be one of those who would rather watch than read thus explaining their underdeveloped brains.

It is such a waste of time and energy debating over Dan Brown’s work. He does not deserve all these attention. First, he is not that good a writer. He may get a star for his flair in cliff-hanging but that is it. Second, The Da Vinci Code is not really an original idea on his part. It was even rumored that another author is suing him of plagiarism. And third, he simply is not worthy. After reading Dan Brown last year, I thought of him as a coward, pushing “his ideas” to the edge then retracting his balls in the end. Dan Brown himself is afraid to commit blasphemy that he sacrificed the conclusion of his story to save his “soul.”

Read the book. See the movie. And laugh at Dan Brown as he takes everything back, everything our leaders, so-called elders, conservatives, and “active” youth are crying against. Only then will you be worthy to say your piece.


and i never heard the shortsighted hypocrites protest about the jurrassic park books and movies and the possible evilness of cloning prehistoric creatures which god has deemed expendable and should be wiped out extinct via meteorite crash.
tsk tsk.
Posted by: Poli | June 12, 2006 08:14 AM

As what i have always pointed out to my fellow christians, the da vinci code must be viewed as a form of entertainment not as a theology. that is cut and dried.
Posted by: Adam | July 2, 2006 05:45 PM