Holiday Blues

The familiar merriment of my neighbor’s party reverberated in my room gaudily. Other neighbor’s ghetto blaster was playing nostalgic ditties. My landlord’s kitchen produced a rather delicious whiff. Outside, the sky was a sheer beauty to behold – the display of vivid colors of fireworks provided a much-needed animation to the rather bleak, weary space. My brother and I, lying in our respective beds, silently (no words were necessary to convey) figured it out: it’s Christmas, unmistakably, after all!

Since my mom and grandma’s demise, Christmas is just another prosaic, red-letter day for us. No fanfares. No brouhahas. No rituals. Heck, the greetings are even a coerced, almost squirmy, endeavor! The day passes unassumingly and we have our own little dramas to attend to.

This Christmas was far from being special. My brother, who came all the way from the province, visited me. Our itinerary for the Christmas Eve was predictably mundane: we went to the mall. Ate. Shopped. And said our little prayers at the chapel. When I finally mustered all the courage in the world, I greeted him. Unperturbed, he just squinted his eyes and shrugged it off.

I laid in bed feeling a little bit under the weather. The erratic climate conditions excruciated my tonsils. But more than that, I wailed for the sorry state of our family affairs. A mother’s death in the family just brings a terrible disorder of the status quo. What was once normal is improbable to reclaim.

Inundated with saccharine Christmas text messages from friends, I felt the urge to read them all (rather than customarily delete them) to fill the void sucking me in. One simple message from an erstwhile significant other put a smile on my face. It's been a long time coming but, finally, solace!

The Bold and The Quirky

Trailblazing. This aptly describes the movie Avatar. Proud and bold, it is ground-breaking in every sense of it. Excuse the overhyping, but genius is even too lame to describe its poetic beauty. James Cameron (Titanic) successfully made a film where animation and reality intertwined seamlessly and perfectly. Whereas most 3-D films heavily rely on visual spectacle, Avatar incorporates the human-ness in its character. The emotions engendered by the Na’vis are so evocative we forget they are not played by real actors. That's quite a rare feat. But the icing on the cake of Cameron’s ethereal imagination is the visual beauty of the film. Simply breathtaking! The idea of Pandora is a work of meticulous art and the attention to detail is flawlessly superb. But is Avatar a perfect film? Not really! Time and again, Mr. Cameron yet provided us with another cheesy, cringeworthy dialogues and a not so clever story (Dances With Wolves, anyone?). But these should not blot the overall landscape as Avatar pushed the boundaries boldly and as an offshoot, is a creation of great cinematic proportions. But will the conservative Academy give Avatar a best picture nod? Well, if District 9 is being snubbed by the critics’ circles and The Dark Knight was shrugged off big time last year as well, then Avatar’s chances are still up in the air.





Romantic comedies are, generally, painful to watch. The cheesy rhetoric, the predictable plot and the generic soundtrack - I just don’t buy it! Oh well, maybe the mathematics of romance is just incomprehensible to me. But when a romantic comedy is offbeat, has that unique charm and a European allure (Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, anyone?), then I’m in love with it. Enter 500 Days of Summer. Just when I thought that the first few scenes of boy-meets-girl cliché would wreak havoc, the nonlinear narrative is a rather quirky saving grace. Otherwise, it would have been 95 minutes of a humdrum familiarity. Refreshingly, 500 Days of Summer deviates the "she's just not that into you" trap and focuses rather on the male emotions in an unshameful way. Dreading that Marc Webb’s music video affinity (although the musical number was tastefully delivered) would turn the film into a completely shitty travesty, he gave us a fresh, almost avant-garde, perspective of a romantic comedy skipping the trivialities and overkill melodramatic scenes. And bravo to Joseph Gordon-Levitt (that adorable crooked smile!) and Zooey Deschanel for pulling off a semi-hippie couple having respective quirks in a post-sexual revolution milieu. By the way, what a killer soundtrack!

High School Clichés

An officemate watches it. An unsuspecting bus seatmate also does. So was my erstwhile significant other. It couldn’t be much more popular: Chico and Del are rabid fans. An ostentatious display of puffery, I muttered. That stubbornness soon waned upon hearing the delivery of their raves. Gleefully! Then it came to pass that curiosity killed the cat and I jumped on the bandwagon.

Targeting the mighty tween power (American Idol , anyone?), Glee chronicles a group of underdog high school students on their quest of fame and glory. Amidst of the unmistakable, formulaic plot, the usual suspects and clichés come forth. There is the talented geek whose rather “unconventional” face is a major laughingstock and the sole recipient of bully attacks. There is the popular jock who happens to be the jack of all trades (no pun intended!). And the bitchy, Barbie-beautiful tanned cheerleader. They all act out and, oh well, you know what’s in store: that cheesy, bland high school love triangle (eeww)!

To surreptitiously subside the clichés and to project it as an avant-garde, these underdog high school students can actually sing! From Amy Winehouse’s Rehab to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing to Celine Dion’s Taking Chances, the music library is spectacularly diverse! The singing and the musical arrangements I do not have problems with; it’s the quick story development that encumbers the character progression and consequently, making an episode so stuffed.

Blame it on my discriminating eyes but the following really disturb me big time:

1) Why is so Finn’s tummy weirdly big that even the football outfit designed to conceal the unsightly fat fails to do the trick?

2) Why does Will’s facial expression become cringeworthy and go overboard (a cross of silliness and Broadway desperation) everytime he dances?

3) Why is Rachel pigeonholed as the ugly girl when she’s pretty enough to conquer Finn’s pre-ejaculation dilemma (the make-up team should make an extra effort to pull off the Ugly Betty’s look!)?

With so many stupid reality tv shows that inundate the small screens right now and teens preoccupied with their selfish and trivial problems, Glee seems to be an escapist form of an antidote. Rightfully so, “a biting comedy for the underdog in all of us.”

Happy Glee Watching!

The SuperBra Effect

Suddenly, Sandra Bullock is on the radar: two megahits this year (All About Steve, The Proposal) and an Oscar buzz brewing from her feisty performance in The Blind Side. “Based on the extraordinary true story,” Sandra plays Leigh Anne Tuohy who adopts a black boy helping him overcome the grittiness of poverty and be one of NFL’s big shots. Cinematically, the film is already inspiring with its heroic, almost run-of-the-mill, theme but Ms Bullock adds a stirring performance elevating it to greatness. Her finest acting since Crash, Sandra provides a performance suffused with wit and the verbal effrontery reminiscent of Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich. After 128 minutes, the issue is not moot: America’s Sweetheart CAN act. The real concern, though, is: can she reincarnate the fate of Ms Roberts? In a year where there is no clear frontrunner (Ms Mulligan seems to be losing her steam, Ms Streep and Ms Cotillard seem to be in a role confusion predicament, Ms Ronan may be too young for the Academy’s taste), Sandra’s inclusion in the nomination field (and winning) is a cinch. With a likeable personality and commercial viability, she is following the lead of Kate, Julia, Reese, Halle and Charlize (translation: actresses who look good on the red carpet). And with generous campaigning from Warner Brothers and a gazillion media exposure, Sandra might finally vindicate the critics that she is a force to be reckoned with. If the Academy can award Julia for her SuperBra, then my final verdict is: Sandra is in!

Saturation Point

First, you have to master the affected accent – an inevitable make-or-break rite of passage. Then you don that unmistakable airs and graces implying a sense of payroll superiority. Weeks of acclimatization, your substandard wardrobe has been overhauled, your gadgets upgraded. Your new fashion mantra: corporate chic. Months after, you have learned the art of effortless puffing and bottomless beer-drinking. After a year or two, your bank account has now ballooned to a hefty six-figure. Overwhelmingly, you start to ponder on an outside-the-monetary-realm satisfaction. Then staleness, redundancy and futility hit you. You are trapped in a terrible dog-eat-dog world and the last thing you beseech for is to break free.

And so I did. Bravely.

After almost three years of the reversal of my biological clock, a fair share of hefty paychecks, bouts of spur-of-the-moment hedonism, dozens of designer clothes, and two Convergys' Top Agent of the Quarter awards (kinareer ko sya!), I called it quits.

I am now working for an ISO-certified think-tank government organization. Quell it, this is your atypical government office. Read: think-tank! Although I’m still grappling the crux of kowtowing (not my cup of tea, really) and steering clear of scuttlebutt-ing, I smell victory in the future.

For the meantime, I’m turning my computer and the lights off. I’m having my afternoon siesta!

Rants and Raves

Best Pic? - Watching The Hurt Locker requires a great deal of heart and mind – it lets you think to grasp the emotions. To the uninitiated: this is not your average testosterone-fueled war film. Boldly, Kathryn Bigelow’s magnum opus debunks the clichés, predictability and psychology of a war film. Quite a daunting risk at hand, Ms Bigelow, nevertheless, crafted it spellbindingly with the moral subtleties accentuated seamlessly. Equally worthy of extolment is the main protagonist, Jeremy Renner (Sergeant First Class William James), who has shown us the marvels, the complexities, the danger, and the psychological burden of a bomb expert. He’s quite the unconventional hero but his strength and confidence are akin to that of a superhero. As of writing, The Hurt Locker is my favorite film of the year. Now, I’m eager to watch Precious, Nine, A Serious Man, and Up In The Air and see how they’ll fare. The Oscar race is officially on!



Adieu, Joaquin! - Unrequited love (my favorite emotional state) is the central theme of Two Lovers. Poignant and bleak, minus the big nosh-up of melodramatic scenes, the film begs the worn-out query: Whom to choose between the two? Quite a throwback to a European style, the film offers meticulous and grand performances by Joaquin Phoenix (did he intentionally gain weight for this movie?) and the lovely Gwyneth Paltrow (gosh, there isn’t a trace of aging on her face!). Sadly, this is Mr. Phoenix’s last film. The man is such a genius who can portray anything with incredible nuance and sensitivity and will be achingly missed. (In retrospect, he should have won an Oscar for Walk The Line.) The last time I heard, Joaquin is into rapping. God forbid! What are you thinking, Mr Phoenix? You can not be the next Jay-z! It’s a long shot for you, buddy! Come back to earth and just make great movies!



Dirty Pop - The musical headline of the year: Grammys goes pop! As Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga and the Black Eyed Peas dominate the nominations, Grammys might finally redeem itself from the long-time hypocrisy and its anti-public sentiments. It’s still premature for a celebration, though, as some obscure songs/artists have penetrated that would be likely cherished by old voters. No wonder, the Grammys is yet to gain the amount of respect that the Oscars gets. So, will the Grannies, I mean Grammys go pop? Oh, one fine day, perhaps!

Kick-Ass Songs for December

Empire State of Mind (Part II) Broken Down (Alicia Keys) - A hit after hits, Alicia Keys proves to be indomitable. Fresh from the monster hit Empire State of Mind (with Jay-z) and the critically-acclaimed Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart, Alicia’s new track Empire State of Mind Part II proves to be just as fierce and as luscious as the previous two. Though it is always an enormous risk to do a sequel on a previous hit, Alicia manages to provide an even more soulful melody, heartrending lyrics and a clever acoustic vibe. The offshoot: A track so gripping that is literally hair-raising. After listening to Empire State of Mind Part II, it has come to pass that: Alicia’s vocal growth has been glorious and for the critics calling Ms Keys’ lyrics to be generic, clichéd, and revolving around generalities, this song is a big slap to their faces!



All The Right Moves (OneRepublic) - When a singer writes a song for other artists, one fears that the singer’s musical authenticity loses. Thankfully, OneRepublic’s front man, Ryan Tedder, steers clear of that catch-22. All the Right Moves, from the band’s upcoming album Waking Up, is a testament of originality and genius that we have related to their smashing hit Apologize. As always, the song’s substance lies on its somewhat obscure but transfixing lyrics (Am I bright enough to shine in your spaces?/Between the noise you hear/And the sound you like/Are we just sinking in an ocean of faces?). Coupled with the seductive drum rolls and engrossing piano, you have a “recording lovingly structured by an expert at work.” All the Right Moves has all the flavors of a hit that makes someone anticipate more kick-ass songs from Waking Up.



Bad Romance (Lady Gaga) - Lady Gaga is such a polarizing figure: either you love her or hate her (sadly, there’s no straddling the fence). Such polarizing that her crazy antics had made her an omnipresent artiste and grabbed worldwide attention. The collective fear, though, was a matter of sustainability. But Lady Gaga vindicated all the naysayers of whether she’s a one-hit wonder with her new song Bad Romance. Talking about romantic entanglements, the song starts with the annoying repetition of words but redeems itself with the catchy verses (e.g., I want your psycho/Your vertigo stick) and the infectious chorus. Having the same bravura as Poker Face and Just Dance, Bad Romance is Lady Gaga’s best vocals ever and may put her out of the oblivion.

Happy World AIDS Day

Today is World AIDS Day. Since 1981, the disease has afflicted millions of people all over the world. Everyday, at least 8,500 die from it. (I still hope that one day the collective geniuses of humanity would engender a cure for AIDS.) Personally, it couldn’t be any sadder: two of my closest friends have succumbed to the disease. It’s a terrible one and people are still ignorant about it. To some, it’s even a taboo (as if shunning from it helps resolve the issue). It’s high time the world has to talk openly and be educated about it. Ignorance begets discrimination. Consequently, victims’ lives get jeopardized. It’s an appalling vicious cycle. And we have to stop it!

Get educated and spread the message!

Rants and Raves

The Gutsy Mr Lambert – Methinks the uproar over a “racy” performance of Adam Lambert at the AMA is a bit of overkill. The show was such a downer a grotesque act was much needed. To the uninitiated: that’s what we call entertainment! Mr. Lambert definitely lived up to the name of his album. I would have been disenchanted if he performed it rather safe and generic. Query: When Britney and Madonna made out at the VMA, people hailed it as cool but for Adam’s he was inundated with condemnations? Fuck all the homophobes!





Meryl, The Incredible – I recently watched Julie and Julia written and directed by Nora Ephron. A lovely film, indeed. But my attention gravitated towards the impeccably glorious portrayal of Meryl Streep as Julia Child. She’s definitely a lock for a Best Actress nomination come awards season. And she has the props to back it up: the charming French accent, the Susan Boyle-inspired hairdo and the infectious mannerisms. If Ms Streep doesn’t win this coming Oscars (she was robbed big time in The Devil Wears Prada), AMPAS members should be decapitated! And oh, did I mention that Amy Adams was delicious as usual!





A Plea to Gemma - I am quite disturbed over Gemma Ward’s recent weight gain. How could such a ferocious doll-beauty overlooked her burgeoning body? After Heath Ledger’s death, the model seemed to traverse a rather disastrous road of coping stress: binging out! Prior to the “transformation”, Ms Ward was the fiercest supermodel who “looked awesome in everything from basic prêt-a-porter shoots to some pretty unusual avante garde creations.” Today, the modeling scene is a sea of déclassé mannequins (save for Chanel Iman and Natasha Poly) and I am hoping that one day Gemma contemplates on returning to modeling. Ms Ward, hit the gym now and bring fierce back!

New Moon = New Yawn

Dark, gripping and provoking: The trailer almost duped me. But, as they say, the devils were in the details.

Where do I begin: Robert Pattinson’s distracting, over-the-top make-up? Kristen Stewart’s annoying facial antics (someone tell her to relax that freaking mouth! Calling Ms. Tyra Banks to demonstrate the trick!)? The ensemble’s sophomoric, one-dimensional acting? The dragging and sleep-inducing first few scenes? Or the irrelevant soundtrack?

But flaws are inconsequential when the oh-so-potent tween power salvages to the rescue making Twilight saga a crazy global phenomenon. They mobbed to the theater oblivious of the long queue and mostly, by sheer force, they dictate the decibel sound in the theater. When Bella and Edward kissed, they shrilled. When Edward took off his shirt, they squealed like hell. And the kicker: When Jacob flaunted those sculpted muscles (my erstwhile Convergys’ colleague, Macon, surmised the steroids did the wonder), the collective shriek almost lasted like an eternity.

New Moon’s Achilles’ heel lies on its clichéd-ness. Its run-of-the-mill plot is devoid of depth and substance. Watching it was an insufferable ordeal through and through. But nothing could be further from the truth: in times of a post-global crisis, we do not need “grainy, rasping, and bleak” (to quote Newsweek’s Joshua Levine) movies, we need a good kick, no-brainer film. And if watching it is your way of unwinding after a weeklong of a mentally strenuous job, fleetingly, New Moon sucks you out from the void and whets your appetite!

Kick-Ass Songs for November

Empire State of Mind (Jay-Z feat. Alicia Keys) – Usually, a song about a place is a hackneyed act of overpatriotism and a humdrum namedropping routine you wish that place never existed. Enter the antithesis of it, Empire State of Mind: blustery, thuggy, appropriately proud and grand. From Jay-Z’s The Blueprint 3 album, the track is so well-crafted it feels glorious to be New Yorker. But credit should be given to whom it is due. Although Jay-Z, the self-proclaimed “new Sinatra”, is at his usual excellent rapping repertoire, the song’s ne plus ultra is Alicia Keys’ strong vocals and lusty shout-outs of the chorus enticing it to ubiquity. Overall, when such two powerhouses collaborate, the song could never go wrong.



Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart (Alicia Keys) – Alicia Keys’ Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart is a much-needed saving grace after the disappointingly mediocre Doesn’t Mean Anything, the first single from her upcoming studio album, The Element of Freedom. Quite a new turf for Ms. Keys, the track which is synth-doused has this nostalgic 80s appeal almost reminiscent of Pat Benatar. Nevertheless, Alicia infused the song with her signature edginess making Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart a winner track.



Fireflies (Owl City) - When the words fireflies, lightning bugs, foxtrot and disco balls are all present in a song sans the mawkish awkwardness, one is toted to a chimerical world. Fireflies with its intelligent electronica tricks by Owl City, thank goodness, is a welcome relief amidst the nondescript sounds bellowing on the radio right now. Whatever inspired Adam Young on this song, it has an inevitable universal effect: “a smile creeping across your face.”

This Is It?

Adoring Michael Jackson with superlatives isn't an overkill. It could hardly even be classified as a prejudiced gesture. A connoisseur could only agree that it is just a germane worship to a virtuoso that changed the pop music landscape and inspired a multitude of wannabees.

Watching "This Is It" is an initiation for me. Though, I've witnessed the King's flawless executions onstage, the documentary unleashes Michael's humanity and vulnerabilities as a pop icon. The audience is transported into the dramas of rehearsal and the raw making of a perfection. Here, we witness Michaels's intelligence as an artist. His suave and full control of the entire spectacle - from the perfect timing of the fireworks, to the minutest element of a bass sound to the handpicking of the dance crew - is a vindication: That he knows his music to a t, after all, isn't an exaggeration.

But the snapshots of Michael's humor was the ultimate icing on the cake. His child-like gestures and naive predilections are mesmerizing to watch. A perfect antithesis of a diva, Michael is quickly apologetic even to his smallest blunders. With such tenderness, I'm still convinced that his child molestation cases went overboard and a total sensational crap.

My friend, Joie, and I agree that Michael's untimely demise was, in fact, a perfect exit. A real icon dies on top of his game not when he becomes a total loser and a complete bore (usually occuring in the latter part of his life). With that, longevity is secured, major fuck-ups stalled.

As the credits of the film rolled, my brother, a big fan of Mr. Jackson and adamant of his belief that the whole shebang is a major hoax, asked me: "This is it?"

Caught unawares, it got me thinking: A film of almost three hours, after all, isn't enough to capture the genius of Michael. But Mr. Ortega, it was a good try!

Kick-Ass Songs for July

Battlefield (Jordin Sparks). This is a song of epic proportions, a consummation of sublimity at one fell swoop. The grandeur of Battlefield lies on its affectingly gripping lyrics and Jordin's flawless rendition. Co-written by One Republic's figurehead, Ryan Tedder (Halo, Bleeding Love), the song screams of the 80s pulsating, heavy-crashing percussion. And when Jordin sings the part: "You better go and get your armor," she commands power and attention that would alleviate her status to diva-dom. This song is a killer pop magic that would be an absolute classic in step with Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart and Heart's Alone. Hmmm...do I smell Grammys?





I Gotta Feeling (Black Eyed Peas). The message is simple: "Tonight's gonna be a good night." Dedicated to all the workaholics (who continue to press on just like me), the song is the perfect anthem to let your hair down on the dance floor. The group's second number one song on the Billboard Hot 100, I Gotta Feeling's throbbing and catchy beat is easily a contender for US' Summer Song. Having been inundated with Boom Boom Pow, this song is surely destined to omnipresence. Yeah, the energy never dies!





Obsessed (Mariah Carey). Whether the movie Mean Girls or Eminem inspirited Mariah to write the song, either way, she created a gem out of Obsessed: clever lyrical put-downs and pithy lines ("You a mom and pop, I'm a corporation / I am the press conference, you're a conversation") . From her upcoming album, Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel, the songstress par excellence is back with a familiar tune that made Heartbreaker such a megahit. Disappointingly, the song does not feature Mariah's fabulous pipes. But as addicting and urban Obsessed is, this could be Mariah's 19th number one.

Dutch Courage

In vino nobis veritas. (In wine there is truth.)

Not that I couldn't agree more but skip the wine part and replace it with beer. Destination: Oyster Boy. No life-defining whys and wherefores, just a spur-of-the-moment escapism from the travails and theatrics of American Express training causing our brain cells to have gummed up and gone phut. Universal antidote? Beer - polar cold and a bucketful of beer.

What: A drinking-gossiping-venting-cursing soirée.



Where: Oyster Boy (Araneta Center, Cubao)

When: Wee Hours of June 27th

Who: Joie - a surfing freak, the queen of opinions with a cocksure and unyielding confidence. An advocate of antithesis who can take the wind out of an egoist's sails.

Dhei - a registered nurse, cupcake maker and a masseuse all rolled into one whose saga of love could invigorate Wong Kar Wai to translate it into film.

Jimi - The Potentate, whose subtle intoxication was a solid, noteworthy veneer and whose Dutch courage discovery was an epiphany.

Critical Minutes of the Soirée:

1) The uncovering of our collective passion to tennis. Players mentioned were Andre Agassi (whose children are sure to be the next prodigies), Michael Chang (whatever happened to him?) and the Williams sisters (...the domination continues).



2) Rantings of our collective loath to a schmuck whose ghetto accent and impropriety are a pain in the ass, to an insecure, self-declared poet whose poetry is devoid of depth and social relevance and whose poetic license has gone overboard, to a self-anointed addict whose proclamation was delivered nonchalantly we concluded she is just desperate of a "shining moment", and to a self-confessed alcoholic who is probably dimwitted to the twelve-step program because basically she is not an "alcoholic", just a savvy drinker.

Query: Is exaggeration the new cool? Whoever said that must be disturbed and should take a mouthful of Valiums.

3) Of Joie and Dhei's plea that I should traverse again the road of love (of perdition, I muttered).



After two buckets of beer, a plateful of yummy french fries and chicken wings and aplenty of funny revelations and abominations, we called it quits. Whatever happened in Oyster Boy does not really end there. It may wind up in a blog. Now, that's Dutch courage!

Can't Wait to Watch...Nine

Nine is got to be THE film of 2009. Directed by Rob Marshall (Chicago, Memoirs of a Geisha), this musical film is based on Arthur Kopit's book of the same name which won Best Musical in the 1982 Tony Awards. The film centers on Guido Contini (Daniel Day Lewis), a famed film director beset with a mid-life crisis that is obstructing his creativity and "entangling him in a web of romantic difficulties in early-1960s Venice."



With a powerful and sizzling cast that includes Oscar winners Daniel Day-Lewis, Nicole Kidman (I hope the botox does not ruin her acting. Australia, anyone?), Marion Cotillard (I'm still in awe of her performance in La Vie En Rose), Penelope Cruz (the new Woody Allen muse), Sophia Loren and Judi Dench, do I smell Oscars in 2010? It's too early to predict but the producers should learn from the Dreamgirls, The Dark Knight and Australia's predicament: too much puffery = Best Picture snub.



After numerous cast swaps and production delays, the film is already in post-production and is set for a November 25, 2009 release. Oh, did I mention that Kate Hudson is in the film? The perrenial question is: Can she sing?

Kick-Ass Songs for April 2009

1) I DO NOT HOOK UP (Kelly Clarkson) - When Kelly opens up her mouth, the song can never go wrong. I Do Not Hook Up is a resounding testament to that. Reminiscent of her smashing hit Since You've Been Done, the new track is an amalgamation of big drums overload, vocal bravura and angsty declarations. The result? A pop-rock musical tour de force. The second song released from Clarkson's chart-topping album All I Ever Wanted (a saving grace from her commercially dismal My December), I Do Not Hook Up is penned by the singer who inspired girls to make out with their girlfriends, the sexual provocateur Katy Perry.




2) ROC (Beyonce) - Yes, roc without a k! But sidestepping its etymology, Roc is a laidback, smooth, easy-to-hear musical indulgence. This yet to be released ballad from the sultry diva's album I Am Sasha Fierce, the song is a homage to Beyonce's formulaic repertoire: cozy, karaoke-worthy tempo (Irreplaceable) + near-cheesy lyrics (Cater 2 U). Not that I mind, though!




3) INSOMNIA (Craig David) - Hail to Neyo and Chris Brown for making R&B dance so cool! It's latest advocate: Craig David. Back from a musical hiatus, the Brit is back to the airwaves with Insomnia from the album Greatest Hits. Upbeat, addictive, danceable and suffused with hard bassline beats, I bet you couldn't resist gyrating your moves sans singing "I never thought that I'd fall in love, love, love, love / But it grew from a simple crush, crush, crush, crush..."

The Fiercest of Them All: The Ebony Beauties Face-Off

"[It's like] there's only room," quips Conor Kennedy, a booker at Elite Model Management, "for one very successful black model at a time."

An erudition for the uninitiated: Naomi Campbell, of course, was the trailblazer of the revolution. A few years later, Tyra Banks, with her festive catwalk, took over fierce-dom. Liya Kebede (my all-time favorite), for the meantime, is savoring her reign as the current paragon.

As fashion is fleeting, so is the ebony muse. Just when I thought all the ebony beauties in the modelling scene have been written off, Chanel, Jourdan and Arlenis are quick to redeem the legacy. Gosh, three equally catwalk divas in their own right! But, methinks three is quite a crowd on the runway and only the fiercest shall rightfully bring home the bacon. Take your pick!




CHANEL IMAN

Age: 19

Nationality: American

Trademark: Nose

A-ha Moment: Discovered after winning runner up in the Ford Supermodel of the World Contest in 2006

Claim(s) to Fame: Advertising campaigns for Bottega Veneta, GAP, Victoria's Secret Pink, and United Colors of Benetton

Vogue cover appearance in May 2007 alongside with 9 new crop of supermodels

MTV's House of Style correspondent gig with Bar Rafaeli





JOURDAN DUNN

Age: 18

Nationality: British

Trademark: Legs

A-ha Moment: Discovered while shopping with a friend at Primark at the young age of 16

Claim to Fame: Best Model of the Year at the 2008 British Fashion Show Awards





ARLENIS SOSA

Age: 19

Nationality: Dominican

Trademark: Lips

A-ha Moment: Discovered while she was walking with her family

Claim to Fame: Lancome endorsement deal



VERDICT: And the fiercest of them all? Easily, Chanel Iman. Jourdan may be the most facially gorgeous but Chanel's vivacity is just too hard to resist. She's like Tyra Banks meets Liya Kebede - ebullient and coquettish yet subtle and restrained. Though the most novice among the trio, give Arlenis a year or two to come out of her shell and she'll give Chanel a run for her money. It goes without saying then that if this is a Thakoon Spring collection show, the pecking order of the finale should look like this: Chanel walks first followed by Jourdan and then by Arlenis.

Remembering Mama...

Dear Mama,

To say how I terribly miss you is a sheer understatement. It's been ten years since you said goodbye to us. How time quickly flies when every pain you had to endure, every struggle you had to battle to defy death is still vivid in my memory! The multitude of medical apparatus attached to your body, the countless medicine you had to take, the agonizing sound of your breaths: I confess I still wake up at night wishing everything was just a bad dream. Acceptance is a gesture I still steer clear of. But when I realize I haven't spoken the word Mama in a decade now, I feel defeated.

Life went on, though, as if a consolation. But it was far from normal: the forced maturity, the misspent youth and the question of identity. (Normalcy, it pains me to know, is something I could never reclaim.) Thus my introvert personality. Thus, my twisted set of convictions.

Happiness, it seems, is an elusive circumstance. There's only isolation, angst and melancholy. Time and again, I ponder on the highs and lows of my life, an unmistakable missing link always sufraces: YOU.

Perhaps, you couldn't be much prouder that we didn't turn out to be as total screw-ups, only confused and lost. Yes, there were times of near-surrender but I pressed on: what doesn't kill you makes you only stronger.

I've already grown past naievete. I now am capable of giving love. I no longer fear death. It's part of the natural order, I'm told: birth, unrequited love and, ultimately, death.

If death means an anticipation of the bliss that it brings on being with you again, then I'm glad to know that everything will finally come full circle. And maybe happiness will not be as elusive as it seems.

'Tis.

Your loving son,
J.

Tiger Beat Questionnaire

The following set of questions first appeared in 1967 when Tiger Beat Magazine editors throw them at The Monkees. Fast forward to 2008, Movies Rock did the same thing to Lost in Translation star, Bill Murray. Now, The Potentate puts them to himself.

How would your mother describe you in one word?

Kick-ass. (Is that one word?)

What is your favorite flower?

My grandmother's roses. God knows how she labored to flower those plants!

What is the most insane question you've ever been asked?

Are you a top or a bottom? Get a grip, moron, I don't wanna compromise!

What word/phrase in the English language do you wish you had invented?

Unrequited love. The phrase and me seem to really hit it pretty well.

Where would you like to live?



In Devonshire around 18th century. I'll tell Her Grace Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire: Your husband is a PIG! Leave him and get a life! And oh, here's some Prozac for you!

What is the first quote that comes to your mind?

"Don't quote me or I'll quote you," from a respected broadcast journalist whom my classmates and I interviewed. She was so spaced out during the interview that left us befuddled: Was she being funny or just plain crazy? She now covers the Malacanang beat for GMA.

What do you miss about your childhood?

Free food, clothing and shelter. When you're grown up, you'll only get those freebies in jail.

If you could change your name, what would you changed it to?

The Potentate. For my mother to feel vindicated and for my father to realize how stupid he was to choose a testosterone-ridden name.

Who is your favorite historical figure?



Marie Antoinette. She was the grand epitome of fierceness. Did she really say, "Let them eat cake?"

Describe how you kiss in one word?

Ask the kissees! I hate self-elevating my status. It's very uncalled for.

If you met the right person today, would you propose tomorrow?

No. A ring will cost me a fortune. I'm a bum at present. And if money would not be an option, I'll stick to my guns: NO. I hate cliches and all the high dramas involved.

What in the world would you least desire?

My former boss' sense of humor (or the lack thereof).

Why do you think most persons date you?

I echo Bill Murray's sentiment: morbid curiosity.

Finish the sentence: "Happiness is a thing called..."

Having your cake and eating it, too.

Pinoy Abroad in Singapore With...

The Potentate
Age: 24
Occupation: Professional Bum (momentarily)
Length of Stay: 2 months (or longer if Lady Luck winks at me)




I came to Singapore with a grand dream: green(er) pasture and I came to see the dream crushing by the day.

I left the country in mid-February leaving behind a P20,000 a month salary job; a position with an incredible investment of blood, sweat and tears; a thesis in a university and an unrequited love. Forty-seven days and S$1,482 cash shelled out after, the chances of achieving the Singaporean Dream have become realistically slimmed.

But woe is not me. My depression saga is over and sans the high drama, I figured it out: why not savor the moment of vacationing in a first world country? This should come as a sweet consolation after more than two years kisssing the Americans' asses. A little break from the corporate jungle is truly a rejuvenating reward.

Inspired by the template of Singapore's Straits Time's Singapore Abroad, this is my attempt to unleash the real Singapore from my vantage point.

GETTING AROUND

The best way to get around Singapore is...




By train. The train system in Singapore is efficient, convenient and connects to the most important landmarks of the country. This is a far cry from the Philippine train system where human congestion is an inevitable greeting and train intervals seem to take an eternity.

The best way to explore the place is...




On foot, so put aside those stilettos and don a comfy pair of sneakers! Singapore is a tiny city-state and walking gives you a luxury of time to appreciate Singapore's bubbly and diverse architecture. From a picturesque galore of avant-garde attics, to sleek bridges to glitzy landscapes, the beauty is endless and is devoid of architectural eyesores.

What is the weather like?




Singapore's weather is a rocketscience mystery to me. At times, it is just really hot with a screaming humidity that you could cook cheeseburgers on my forehead and in the middle of a fanfare, the rain pours. Inconsistent but otherwise, a very common tropical weather. Beats me: In the midst of an insufferbale heat, why do Singaporeans manage to keep their cool and never get to undergo the agony of perspiration?

Which places really excite you?



HDB's parks for their functionality, pragmatic concepts, smart designs and relaxing ambience. You could throw out a picnic there and if guilt overwhelms you for eating lots of carbs, you could work out afterwards in an open min-gym.

Must one know the language to get around?



No. Almost everybody speaks English or Singlish (Singaporean English with a cute accent) to be exact. Learn to shrug off, though, Grammar 101 as most Singaporeans do not give a fig of the proper subject-verb agreement. And please, forget the American accent, they consider it very low-life and despicable!

SHOPPING

The best bargains are at...



Mustafa. This is an Indian-run mall located nearby the Ferrer Park station. Perfumes and fragrances are the best buy here. Disclaimer: steer clear of shopping between 10 am to 10 pm as the narrow alleys make shopping an unberable affair due to the bottleneck of shoppers. Thus, leading me to reveal one cool fact about Mustafa: the mall is open 24 hours. How cool is that?

FOOD

Do not leave the place without...



Eating chili crabs. It is relatively pricey but worth it. Food bon vivants, time to upgrade your taste!

The best dinner is at...



Hawker centers. If you're looking for variety and cost-next-to-nothing gastronomical delights, head nowhere: Hawker centers offer the best of it!

SUNDOWNERS

What is the coolest place to chill out?



Starbucks Cofee near the iconic Merlion. It is cool, hip, breezy, vibrant and serves you right if you have a penchant for people-watching.

The one place you always take your friends is to...



Killiney's Coffee in Siglap (a stone throw's away from the place I'm living). The cofee is unlike anywhere else. Its unmistakable aroma and taste keep me coming back.

FURTHER OUT

What is there to explore?



The night life at Clark Quay for your bar-hopping indulgences, the red-light district area in Geylang for curiosity's sake, the humungous Night Safari, the public libraries for the bookworms (free access, baby, free!).

Any other sites that would appeal to Filipinos?



The night market in Chinatown. Remniscent of the Philippine's Divisoria, toursits and locals alike flock here for cheap thrills. Thus, if you're a bit hard-up and faces the dilemma of what "pasalubong" to give to the entire barangay, Chinatown is your antidote.