Fag--er, Fangs

A part of my religious upbringing as a Catholic probably stemmed from my childhood fears of everything that has to do with the devil and any known creature of the night who did his bidding. I believe I was in the pre-school stage when I first heard the term 'Vampire' from my father. The way he described the creature---a supernatural being with superhuman abilities that has a nasty predilection for human blood; with oversized canines for puncturing the victim's jugular and an aberration to Roman Catholic trinkets, sunlight, and garlic. That, and they slept in coffins as well. He mentioned someone called Count Dracula and showed me a magazine with a black and white photo of a tall, gaunt-looking man in a flowing black cape (Christopher Lee, actually) glaring at the camera. The information, the way Dracula looked and what happens to you if a vampire kills you was terrifying, specially when you're a child. There was even a time when I thought everyone in Transylvania were bloodsuckers.

And that's the way vampires should be. Something that sparks some deep-seated terror from people. Not sexy or romantic like the recent films of yesteryears and today's brain-dead pop culture are advocating. (Digression:I have a suspicion that it's another Catholic construct meant to inspire devotion among its congregation. How come it's never mentioned they're afraid of the Star of David, or the Koran, or Jerry Falwell? Interesting.).

This new politically-correct/scientific approach at portraying the entire vampire genre and repackaging it as other than a horror fare is abysmally lame. Anne Rice started it with injecting homoerotic undertones and short of (in my opinion) actually declaring vamprisim as a metaphor for homosexuality; and then you get films like Blade and Underworld that repackaged them as superheroes and mutants. And Buffy The Vampire Slayer. And here comes Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series that turned two titans of horror (Vampire, Werewolf) into characters straight from Sweet Valley High, One Tree Hill and Dawson's Creek. Although yes, everyone has a right to take any material and reinvent it to whatever packaging the author chooses it to be, but something tells me the entire genre has gone downhill since 100-year old vampires who look 17 became the embodiment of a romantic Don Juan who sweeps every pre-pubescent/teenage girls off their feet. I wonder why those so-called guardians of morality kept mum at the very obvious glorification of pedophilia in these series and cried foul when Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita was published or shown (see Stanley Kubrick).

With that said, here are a few Vampire films/reading materials I found to be very entertaining and satisfying:

1. Dracula (Bram Stoker) - still the best book about vampires. period.

2. Salem's Lot (Stephen King) - masterful storytelling. horrifying with occasional bursts of humor. one of king's best. scout for the made for tv movie as well. equally terrifying.

3. Near Dark (f) dir. Kathryn Bigelow - shows a nomadic group of vampires. instead of tall clean looking aristocrats, these were gruesome hobos who bathed in their victim's blood.

Near Dark

4. Fright Night (f) dir. Tom Holland - another favorite. features the late great roddy mcdowall as a phoney vampire killer and chris sarandon as the elegant but humorous vampire neighbor of teenager william ragsdale.

5. I Am Legend (Richard Matheson) - not to be confused with the crap Will Smith adaptation of an outbreak turning humans into mutants with vampiric attributes. stick to the book. million times better.

6. The Horror Of Dracula (f) dir. Terence Fisher - christopher lee's first foray into the role that made him famous. a loose adaptation of stoker's famous novel about the transylvanian count still contains genuine moments of creepiness even by today's standards.

7. Nosferatu (f) dir. FW Murnau - the lack of sound and max schreck's unique portrayal of count orlock added to the general creepiness that pervades the entire film.

8. Dracula (f) dir. Tod Browning - another dracula icon in the person of actor bela lugosi. he, along with lee practically hogged the general appearance of the infamous count.

9. Vampires (f) dir. John Carpenter - decent action/horror film from john carpenter. james woods looks more dangerous than the lead vampire though.

RIP NIN : Enter Trent Reznor

A few minutes that felt like hours after Pupil finished their set I had this sudden panic attack that perhaps Trent Reznor and Co. had bailed out of the entire proceedings without so much as a "fuck off" to their fans who waited for NIN to come to the Philippines with probably more enthusiasm than the second coming of the almighty himself. The thing about rock stars (Reznor wouild cringe at this description) is that their unpredictability is also what makes their music so compelling in the first place. I'm a big fan but i doubt if I'll be able to forgive him had he pulled that kind of stunt. I mean 1k isn't something I can pick anytime from a tree after all. Even the hairy bearded guy who sat in front of us (me, my wife, and my sister-in law) who gave the impressioin of a calm composed individual shattered all preconceived notions when he yelled "TAMA NA YANG ILAW!!! GO NAAAA!!!!" So much for first impressions. I just reminded myself how big a perfectionist Reznor is. From the countless interviews I've read about the guy, they never fail to highlight the man's obsession about meticulousness. That Reznor never fails to accomplish something once he puts his mind into it. One interview with a former employer when was still a handyman for a recording studio put it more simply: "When that guy waxed the floor, it looked great." So I just waited for the strobe lights to be tweaked a little more. Better safe than sorry.

Then the lights dimmed and the crowd gave a collective howl of anticipation; and just as the strobe lights behind the stage blared at full blast along with the first bars of "Somewhat Damaged", the dark lord of industrial marched toward the mic and grabbed it with both hands like he was gonna strangle it, and loomed toward the lucky audience members in front with the more expensive tickets. He may have aged, but the vitriol in his performance has all the menace and swagger of a rock behemoth that gives contemporary moron 'rock' stars half his age a run for their money as far as performing with brass balls and musical innovation is concerned.

We were seated in upper box b, so the view wasn't that spectacular. Good thing they were selling those handy cardboard binoculars for only P50 a piece so we got to see the band a little more clearly. Reznor's look nowadays is a far cry from the long-haired and lanky alternative-era doomsayer who popularized songs about self-destruction, unsavory sexual practices and suicide; even penning one of the most recognizable choruses in pop culture history courtesy of "Closer", off 1994's The Downward Spiral. That song, incidentally, may also be NIN's most popular as well. I assume it is, because when the opening beats for that song came on, the audience just went crazy. The man who performed last Wednesday was buffed and sporting a close cropped hair and looking every bit like a man in his mid-40s might look. If you didn't know the guy you'd probably assume he's the band manager instead of the singer. But when he screamed "Too fucked up to care anymore!!!", you'd agree that no manager in this planet can do that with as much conviction as he did.

What followed was a set that was simultaneously loud, brutal but soft, and even gentle and pristine in some parts. The stun-volume favorites were there: Gave Up, March Of The Pigs, Wish and Head Like A Hole. But in my opinion the most arresting bits were the less-than famous ambient/instrumental tracks taken off the little known 1999 release The Fragile. Notably the ocean-filled imagery of La Mer. That was certainly enough to give everyone pause, specially first-timers who probably thought thrashing and abrasive music are only things the band knew how to do. And the lighting that Mr Morose was complaining about earlier added to the atmosphere of every song (I think he came around it at the end; he was utterly stunned.). It had the same loud-soft dynamics that the band continously hammered the audience with. They even performed covers of David Bowie and Joy Division. With the latter also featured in the OST of The Crow way back in '94. They ended the set with 'Hurt'. A perfect epilogue to a historic tour that I'm sure won't happen again. In that regard all who watched it were very lucky.

NIN belongs to my generation, and I am proud because of it.

Strategy

I hate to admit it but I really am turning into a Facebook addict. Start pelting those stones. After the smug remarks and disimissive wave that I directed toward the site before joining, I am now in the unpleasant position of jamming those words right back into my mouth. It's not that I have the annoying habit of adding people I don't even know for the sake of adding anyone, or uploading the latest inane picture of me applying medication on a corn, but the games. More specifically, the MY HEROES ABILITY game.

Like most of its ilk (Mafia Wars, Vampire Wars, etc), you get to role-play a character with a specific ability that will help you advance into more sophisticated levels enabling you to do more against enemies and upgrade your basic ability. Not that impressive at first glance, but I guarantee once you started doing it you can't stop. The closest approximation I can give is that it is similar to other RPGs like D&D and the Magic.. series. 

Similar, but not as sophisticated. For instance, Telepathy-my ability-doesn't offer much as far as offensive/direct attacks are concerned, but is very useful in dealing devastating handicaps (reduced accuracy/protection/damage capability) against targets fighting against others. So in a group, which is one of the features of the game, a telepath is not something to be dismissed. I like it just fine, though. It can hold its own against opponents with great physical offensive capabilites (i.e. superhuman strength/speed, flight) matter manipulators (i.e. electricity manipulation, cryokinesis, pyrokinesis) and other enhanced mental powers (telekinesis, memory manipulation).

You get to compete with friends with different powers and compare abilities, hamper their game by applying handicaps when they least expect it, help each other, or engage in a deathmatch with each other once you hit the right levels. It's the closest you'll ever get to playing a superhero as an adult.

So please don't ignore the invites I sent.

Tira

A little hilarious piece from my sister. Funny, brutal and true. You would not want to be the reason for her irritation. Plus, I'm too lazy to write anything of my own just yet so I'll resort to this shameless attempt at adding anything this blog for the sake of having an entry. Apologies to non-Hiligaynon speakers.

link:

"http://vanhalenfan.wordpress.com/2009/03/13/pande-what-oh-monium/

Before/After

Trent Reznor never fails to fascinate me. The two videos below prove the theory of evolution better than any egghead's biological lab rat.

Option 30


Nine Inch Nails

Happy Anti-Valentine's Day

There's something oddly comforting about The Cure's brooding and introspective masterpiece Disintegration (1989). Even though the entire album is a guided meditation that veers to a gradual descent toward loss, broken dreams/promises, declarations of unrequited love, and a bleak and distant yearning for happier times that could have been, the overall impact to the listener is anything but feelings of gloom. You do get a little misty-eyed from time to time but it's akin to watching a movie that deals with the same heart-wrenching subject matter than actually reliving what is being sung; leader and main songwriter Robert Smith is a good storyteller, after all.

Among its two counterparts, Pornography (1982) and Bloodflowers (2000), Disintegration is the middle act of an epic trilogy devoid of any upbeat melodies meant for top-40 radio. These are the kind of albums that are in heavy rotation as soundtracks to every suicide (along with Joy Division's Closer). Some concert reviewers even joked about giving complimentary ropes at every Cure concert in the past. Characterized by a grandiose wall of sounds created by synths, keyboards, chiming guitars and drum work that sounds like gunshots, and set to Smith's sharp wordplay and acute sense of crafting vivid imagery makes Disintegration, in my opinion, the definitive Cure album.

I have been searching for this album for so long. I scoured every known music peddler from the corporate-owned variety to the smallest flea pits where only hardcore collectors and audiophiles dare to tread (I did find other notable albums like The Stone Roses and NIN's Pretty Hate Machine during this quest), but only managed to acquire their singles collection Staring At The Sea. Even Quiapo - the ever reliable haven for hard-to-find music, movies and reading materials - didn't have it. While I am aware of the internet and wonders it can do to acquire digital files, when it comes to music I am old-fashioned. The album, the sleeves, the entire package and yes, even the search, is everything. I believe those are parts of the complete album listening experience. But sometimes you just have to listen to something so bad, you are compelled to bend some of your established rules to satisfy your curiousity.

As expected, the music was excellent. All the songs are epic in scope, each masterfully crafted by the band and clocking in at no less than five minutes. "Plainsong" opens with the most apt lyric that sets the tone for the entire album: "I think it's dark and it looks like rain...". Smith sings in a resigned manner that even the biggest yearnings actually feel the end of the world even if it were answered. But the genius of tunesmiths like Robert Smith is that they are able to channel all these moping and self-pity into pop masterpieces full of hook that helps in digesting an other wise heavy concept album all the more easier to the casual listener. This is definitely the album to play this Valentines. Full of anthemic shout outs tailor-made for the soundtrack of your own miserable existence.