when an anti-establishment hippie is established...

The 2006 Pyro Olympics (and other events)

 

While usually it’s the hand that demands protection during episodes involving fireworks, at the 2^nd Pyro Olympics this Saturday I was more concerned with my feet.

As early as 6pm, the normally spacious reclamation road leading to the Shoe Mart king of kings, Mall of Asia (MOA), had already become tighter than the eskinitas of Baclaran and Quiapo combined.

It was only slightly tighter than the knot in my belly, which was roused at the Buendia MRT station, where upon alighting the first thing I saw was a queue longer than that at the DFA’s. It was a line of people waiting for jeepneys to transport them to MOA.

Where normally barkers had to practically chuck innocent pedestrians inside MOA shuttles to fill them up, that night neither shuttle nor barker could be found. Perhaps they were huddled in a lugawan stand somewhere, opting wisely to stay away from the chaos.

 Sure enough, a growing swell of people had convened—buses, cars, motorbikes, bicycles, determined soldiers on foot— and was forging towards the light. I grudgingly trudged under the foot category for the first 5 minutes, after which the trudge turned into a nimble trot. Never before had I been so happy over not owning a car. I could only offer a sympathetic tut to the worsening vehicular jam as I squeezed, ducked, squirmed and swooped my way through the tiny crevices— the level of mass congestion was such that each square inch was claimed by either foot, wheel or the enterprising Pinoy’s inihaw na pusit stand. The traffic had become so bad that confused busloads of Korean tourists were forced to pull over, their grand videoke dreams halted for the moment.

  I was amazed. I had previously thought that only the virginal maiden’s image at Edsa and Bro. Mike Velarde could inspire gatherings of such scale. Obviously now fire crackers must be added to the list.  

Half a kilometer away from the venue, people had formed camps. The night sky looked over a blanket of people munching on green mangoes and reclining on empty rice sacks. Kids were counting the seconds until the first rocket and teenagers were sitting on their hoods, headbanging to “Sweet Child of Mine.” These were the people who thought better of paying the entrance fee. Quite sensibly too, I thought as I peered over the fence that separated the payers from the non-payers.  The only difference was that those few who shelled out P500 golden buckeroos were given free grub and access to monobloc chairs.

My own area (the complimentary pass/ P100 area) was different only from the non-paying zone in such that the people inside looked as if they wished they’d stayed outside, where the grass was soft for sitting and the food tents did not block the view.

At eight-thirty pm, the first ball of light—China’s— exploded in the sky. Each consequent explosion elicited a corresponding “whooooah” from the audience— aching fannies momentarily forgotten.

 As the people behind me launched into a running commentary of how last weekend’s competitors—U.S., United Kingdom, Germany and defending champion Australia—entries went, several hands clutching camera phones shot up and recorded the spectacle. Why some actually preferred to watch the show through the screens of their phones, I did not understand— perhaps it’s a bizarre side effect of the text movement (which I deny to be part of).

Japan was not in the line up this year, but I remember being most impressed with them at the 2004 Pyro Olympic exhibition held at the same place. For some wild reason, they were able to form hearts and smiley faces with their fireworks (I half expected the little buggers to vault in).

I did not see all the countries compete this year and therefore am not a reliable critic, but as with the tsunami of Pinoys who courageously walked, cycled, drove, hopped, and trudged to the full extent of their beings and gasoline content to the venue this Saturday, it was ultimately the Philippines’ demonstration that I most wanted to watch. The country wasn’t competing, but as host country we were giving a twenty-minute exhibition to ceremoniously conclude the event.

True to Pinoy form, the crowd was in high spirits despite the delay— made bearable only by hundreds of shared jokes, i.e. “Pati fireworks Philippine time ah!” and “Kaya matagal kasi mahirap i-set up ang super lolo at pla pla. At ina-assemble pa nila yung boga.”

And when the first rocket shot up and lit the Manila sky, the two hour wait was almost worth it. (I say almost because I’ve seen the Philippines back in ’04, and already knew we would not light a sawa/ sinturon ni Hudas for the finale.)

The finale in fact, was a visceral blaze of color, movement and sound. The whole demonstration roared of exploding reds and whistling yellows. Frontal and direct—in true Pinoy bragging form. It was, minus the clouds of smoke that caused my environmentalist heart to constrict, beautiful.

At midnight, I dutifully took my place in the swarm of people shuffling towards the exit. The walk home would clock my entire march for the evening at ten kilometers, and I would have a sore throat and colds to show for it Monday. My feet, thankfully, are fine.

 

Posted by: Hoon at 01:28 | link | comments (1)

Two cups of black coffee and a cigarette later and the internet is still down.

I’m flopping around the office in slippers and a thin gray sweater, peering at the empty chairs and clucking at myself for not having stayed in bed.

How is it that a year could whiz by so fast and a day take so long to end? 

Im disoriented and bloated from all the ham and have been death cabbing to death since 8 am.

To rephrase a song of theirs: It’s the new year and there’s nothing new about it. (original lines go: so this is the new year!! And I don’t feel any different!!)

 

…except that one part of my body is officially dead.

 

For about a month now I’ve been experiencing bouts of rebellion from a tooth. It was cute at first, this little thing establishing itself with such fortitude that I could not enjoy even a glass of lukewarm water.  But when it boldly went from quiet grumbling to declaring an all-out siege against anything and everything that involved the passage of food, it was time to whip out the holy book of laws. And there it was in scripture: eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.  So on December 19, 2006, at 5.30 pm, Pacific time, I had the insurgent cuspid executed. I sat on the dentist’s chair and had its life line snuffed out.

It went from a cursing, swaggering, little gangster to a nerveless, painless, shell bereft of all character.

 

I didn’t plan on welcoming the year with something dead but … well these things have means of elbowing their way into your plans.

 

Imagine that, a dead tooth with elbows.

 

It has a nice ring to it, sort of like Death Cab for Cutie.

 

Presenting onstage tonight and only tonight, the phantom cult phenomenon---- Dead Tooth with Elboooooooooooooowwws!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

(mad shrieking from crazed fans)

Dead Tooth (testing the mic, then stepping away slightly when mic gives off feedback): Uh, hello there. nice to see everybody tonight..we’re dead tooth with elbows and we’re here to give you uh..a … wraaaaawKKiiiiiiiiN good time!!!!!!!!!

 

(mic’s shrieking feedback drowned out by fans)

 

Dead tooth: our first song for tonight…is about the pain of being ignored…by ‘sciety, by the system …but most of all by the *****!! who promises to look after you….then leaves you to DiiiiiEEEEEE! This is called…. “The Cavity of Contempt!”….  WWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

 

(launches into most deafening version of Cavity of Contempt ever).

 

Me, the guilty *****!!, shouting over the din : I’m including regular trips to the dentist to my list of resolutions!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted by: Hoon at 07:48 | link | comments (3)

September 1, 2006

 

Antoine Autain: still glaped out ?

Antoine Autain: what are you galpping ?

shahooondog: getting there..

shahooondog: were u out smoking water pipes last night too?

Antoine Autain: glapping*

shahooondog: did u glap last night at absinthe?

Antoine Autain: no

Antoine Autain: we glapped at mcafe

Antoine Autain: then i glapped home around 1.00 am

Antoine Autain: and guigui glapped to absynthe after with a gay

Antoine Autain: did he glap you that ? ha ha

shahooondog: they glapped good i think

Antoine Autain: yeah

shahooondog: i thought you were galpping with this sonny boy?

Antoine Autain: ha ha ha you bitch

shahooondog: haaaaaaaaaaaaaha

Antoine Autain: he was trying to glap me once i think but im too smart for gays...

Antoine Autain: sad

shahooondog: oh you glapper you

Antoine Autain: for him i mean

shahooondog: so now its gui he's glapping.

Antoine Autain: glap you please huh

Antoine Autain: ha ha ha

shahooondog: who's next, i glap?

Antoine Autain: maybe you if glap him into the right side

shahooondog: the straight side of the moon yea

 

shahooondog: <<glap>>

Antoine Autain: glap again

Antoine Autain: what are you glaping ?

shahooondog: glapping for some glap, man

Antoine Autain: wouahoo that's glap

shahooondog: you had lunch already?

Antoine Autain: yeap

shahooondog: glapped some lunch man?

shahooondog: cool.

Antoine Autain: like you glap

shahooondog: u glapping tonight?

Antoine Autain: of course

shahooondog: where da glap at?

Antoine Autain: will u glap us there ?

shahooondog: where da glappin' happenin'?

Antoine Autain: i told u already

Antoine Autain: temple, at greenbelt

shahooondog: no you didn't

Antoine Autain: karla vizcarra: where da glap at?

Antoine Autain: temple

Antoine Autain: greenbelt

Antoine Autain: will u glap us there ?

karla vizcarra: where da glappin' happenin'?

Antoine Autain: are u glapping me ?

Antoine Autain: see, im glapped now

Antoine Autain:

shahooondog: im kinda enjoying the whole glappin language

shahooondog: like, total glapness man

shahooondog: dont be glap. be glap!

Antoine Autain: ah ah im glap too

Antoine Autain: glap to see that's glapping nice

shahooondog: templeee

shahooondog: why

shahooondog: what 's up there man

Antoine Autain: im trying to glap matthieu too, but he is not glapped that the glappin language is so glap

Antoine Autain: there is a glap party, with our name on a glap and all

shahooondog: maybe he doesn't glap it

shahooondog: who glapped the party?

Antoine Autain: yes, that's what i assume

Antoine Autain: a company glapped "daniel"

Antoine Autain: it's daniel's party

shahooondog: glappin awesom!

Antoine Autain: see

shahooondog: who is daniel?

Antoine Autain: it's a company name

Antoine Autain: i glap so, but not so glap

Antoine Autain: we'll see

shahooondog: but why we glappinthere if we don't know who the glap daniel is?

Antoine Autain: because a girl i dont glap glapped us yesterday night

Antoine Autain: pretty cool by the way

shahooondog: haaa. a non-glap girl eh.

Antoine Autain: to glap unglapped boys like us

shahooondog: well that's the fun thing about glapping, i glap.

Posted by: Hoon at 06:38 | link | comments