planarity

i gave up after looking at the level 4 puzzle. the faq says that anyone who gets past level 10 is a genius; i say those people have way too much time on their hands.

thanks to bugie for the link.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 1:20 PM
comments (3)

this is hilarious

Whew! [name withheld] really does like you on Friendster!

You put yourself on the line, risked it all and it has paid off richly. [name withheld] has accepted your invitation to be Friendsters! Oh the times you'll have - - chatting, joining groups together, checking out your joint horoscope, reading each other's blogs, and more.

Don't forget to leave a testimonial for [name withheld].

- Your Friends at Friendster

they make it sound like i proposed or something. sheesh. if i worked for the pr team, i'd drop the cute act and focus more on the blogs, which is probably the only reason the site still receives hits.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 12:06 PM
comments (1)

harry potter and the half-assed job

it was amid many warnings and my own reservations that i borrowed chudor's copy of the sixth installment in the harry potter series. just as the books' plots has steadily showcased j.k. rowling's ready wit and mastery of plot twist, they have just as successfully demonstrated her weakness in maintaining character in the face of drastic environmental changes.

this book proves to be no exception, with a number of clever turns that would have probably kept me riveted, if only i hadn't scanned ahead via wikipedia prior to actually reading the novel. her favorite plot device is to resurrect characters and objects previously mentioned only in passing, but with added importance as the timeline progresses [take for example, tom riddle's diary, first mentioned in book two, and now revealed to be a horcrux]. strangely enough, this trick doesn't seem as old hat as it actually is, considering that we've already gone through six-sevenths of the tale. methinks it's because reality works in a similar fashion.

and yet this same degree of realism is one of my biggest frustrations when it comes to how this particular installment played itself out. while it is true that love is a central theme in the entire series, and that love is as well both milestone and common ground for the characters vis-à-vis the readers, i personally think that it was delivered in a distasteful and overbearing manner, such that the image of eros rather than the idea of it is carried across. not good, considering that fans may be as young as eight or nine.

and let's not forget the aforementioned loss of consistent characterization, notoriously harry's sudden anger management issues. i find it harder and harder to sympathize with a lead character prone to irrational outbursts, orphan or otherwise. true, it is an attempt to humanize his character, but as this is children's fiction, it only serves to rip a hole through the illusion the rest of the book weaves. think of it as the same reason why disney heroes never take a crap on-screen.

thus, i am left only one-third satisfied with the book. perhaps if a substatial number of kissing scenes were removed, or if characters were tailored to appeal to the original preteen reader bracket [since kids do assume that personality is more or less a permanent thing], rowling could have delivered a much less forgettable experience.

as for myself, i'm still convinced that she was at the top of her game circa book three. will book seven change my opinion? even with this latest disappointment, i'm not giving up on that possibility just yet.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 2:02 AM
comments (3)

bad karma

my thesis group had a 9am proposal defense scheduled for yesterday morning. as i was already lamenting the lack of sleep this arrangement would entail, jin, our group leader, requested that we meet two hours in advance to discuss possible last-minute presentation changes. in hindsight, i really shouldn't have agreed to that so quickly:

to be fair, i did in fact wake up on time; the problem was that i only realized that i had neglected to wear the perscribed long-sleeves and slacks just as i was about to step into the fx. the backtrack took about an hour. by the time i got back, the fx queue had stretched to such a length that if i'd lined up, i would have been on the fifth or sixth ride. i decided to take a bus instead.

running across the bicutan bridge, i realized too late that the crowd was just as large, only now i had the option to cut in if the bus happened to stop right in front of me. the fourth bus did, but not before i twice slipped on the oil-slicked asphalt. the only piece of luck i'd enjoyed so far was that my pants were black to begin with. by this time, the pre-defense meeting was out of the question; i rather focused my worry on actually getting there on or before 9.

the southbound train was already in the magallanes station when i'd arrived, and had left by the time i'd paid for my ticket. i glumly contemplated what i'd say to the group if they'd call me to inquire on my whereabouts [it was already 8:33 and i'd conveniently run out of credits a while back]. imagine my surprise when a second train pulled up not three minutes after the first one had left.

stepping inside, i was halfway through my whisper of thanks when god decided to reward my sudden prayerfulness with a blessing of water from the train's air-conditioning vents, which were right above me. this baptism was repeated twice or thrice more before we reached edsa station, although i wasn't a direct participant after the first iteration. the lrt was jam-packed, as expected, so i decided that a jeep would probably get me to school faster. at this point, it was 8:42.

although there were no lack of jeepneys, less than one-fourth were routed to pass by vito cruz. and as if this weren't challenge enough, i discovered that i had no bill smaller than a full hundred pesos to pay my fare with. it took me a full five minutes to flag down a driver with change for that amount. with that, we were barreling along taft avenue at such a rate that i actually thought that i'd arrive with time to spare.

then the jeep stopped for gas.

at 8:57, i finally caught sight of the starbucks marking the intersection of taft and vito cruz. the coupe de grace was that in my excitement, i mistook the north gate for the eng gate and consequently had to run the hundred or so meters extra. i arrived, holy water, crumpled tie, and all, just as the gokongwei clock struck nine.

life is still good.

oh, and btw, we passed.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 10:51 AM
comments (1)

panalo

i. bass from hell

winner: hohner b2b
band: midweek dawn [formerly coconut invaders]

although sound quality left a lot to be desired, the judges [me, myself, and i] chose this winner based on aesthetics and shock factor. the fact that it once belonged to death by tampon's bassist only sweetens the deal.

ii. bassist from hell

winner: alyas gyeon-woo
band: protein shake

look-alikes aside, this winner received full marks for skill, song-and-dance routine, and audience rapport. 'nuf sed.

iii. vocalist from hell

winner: aya de leon
band: imago

aya + 38º fever + anino = shakira
omgwtfbbq!

iv. pants from hell

winner: orange sarong
band: wishstick

in contrast with all other performers, who wore the usual black emo shirts, black emo glasses, and black emo chuck taylors [god, spare me from the mediocrity], popoy's outfit complimented the tropical climate quite masterfully.

v. guitarist from hell

winner: alyas grimace
band: madstand

this winner was chosen primarily for his ludicrous waist-length hair, but i must not fail to mention his bright purple guitar and tendency to vibrate violently while performing. this second property caused his hair to whip around in a manner reminiscent of a drowning jellyfish, such that he almost succeeded in falling offstage once he decided to start jumping around.

vi. contest winners from hell

winners: odatnarat and madstand

for reasons incomprehensible to myself and any other audience member with taste, these two bands bagged the 10,000 peso grand prize for the night. upon hearing of the tie, i'd assumed that wishstick and midweek dawn were the contenders, since those two were the only contestants with talent to speak of.

i mean, come on, you really can't expect to win if your vocalist is visibly reading song lyrics, or if your lead guitarist can't pull off anything more than chords [so you have to invite a back-up vocalist onstage to sing the solo instead], or if you somehow manage to fuck up generator, or all three. especially all three.

who needs talent, anyway, when you've "played all over the metro"? can't sing? growl instead. can't play the bass? mosh with your just-as-incompetent long-haired guitarist. can't play the bongos? don't worry, the drums drown you out.

this exercise only serves to prove that even supposedly enlightened fraternities are not immune to politics and the jologs invasion.

viii. habitat volunteers from hell

winners: stani and agunta

between my pickaxe and jp's drill, we managed to finish a considerable bit of construction work. although i was under the sun and jp was indoors, i actually had the easier share of it - off-mark holes in the ground are easier fixed than off-mark holes in a wall. on that note, jhaphet, who worked with jp, deserves an honorable mention for largest error.

unlike other categories, these winners were chosen based on professional opinion.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 9:33 AM
comments (1)

if you want something done right

then do it yourself. that's the way it goes, right? in other words, if someone else does it for free, you have no right to complain about shoddy worksmanship. so why are people up in arms over gloriagate? people like to talk big when there's no possibility that they'll be held responsible for their claims. you try being president of the philippines and see if you don't just give up and run off with a couple hundred billion souveniers.

in philippine politics, there never is a best option; there's only the least evil. the only reason she rose to power was because nobody wanted her opponent to. so she's not a saint. you voted for her; deal with it. not satisfied, eh? well, would you have preferred that fpj had won?

the fact is, we'd rather have a parade of actors|politicians elected and impeached, at the cost of our nation's economy and reputation, rather than stepping up to the challenge of actually going out and doing something concrete such as donating goods or money, or volunteering for social work. we'd rather blame a figurehead for our apathy, knowing that if he|she gets funny ideas, we can just mock up another scandal and replace him|her with some other scapegoat.

rallying won't solve our current crises, nor will it convince her to resign without visible support from the military. all it's doing is wasting our time and resources. you know - the same time and resources that can be put to better use elsewhere, if you utterly refuse to get on with your lives.

people today are too pampered. don't like your dinner? daddy will order a pizza. too lazy to do research? have a classmate email you his work. bad game? there's always the reset button. well guess what, kids - life's got no reset button. try to imagine a dota game where everyone's a noob leaver. that pretty much sums up our current situation.

consider this: the relatively wealthy supported glora during the elections and the masa supported fpj. which of the two now want gloria out and which are holding their tongue?

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 3:36 AM
comments (3)

ytmnd

dogs are the superior species, i think.

it takes very little to make a dog happy and a lot to get it down.

a dog would never turn down the opportunity to go off on an adventure. a dog wouldn't complain either, even if its leg is already broken in two places.

a dog respects hierarchy, regardless of the physical and mental stature of those dogs above and below it. a dog is neither self-serving nor does it possess ulterior motives. it is not a dog's nature to bear a grudge or turn traitor.

a dog is perfectly happy whether fetching a stick, sleeping beside its master, or riding in a car with its head out the window. a dog doesn't get bored; it just takes a nap if there's nothing else to do.

a dog is never counter-intuitive.

dogs may not win nobel prizes or pulitzers but there are undeniably more beloved dogs than there are beloved scientists and writers, combined even. not all babies are cute, but hardly anyone can say "puppy" without cracking a smile.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 10:53 AM
comments (0)

reaction papers

i. allergic reaction

the bulk of our habitat for humanity stint consisted of breaking up the lumpier sections of the construction site and carting them away to fill up those sections below parallel, a process called [obviously] "cut and fill".

while this detail of the work was actually quite enjoyable [i was manning the pickaxe], we sooner or later realized that the five-foot-high mound of earth we were standing on was, in fact, an anthill. the main chambers of the nest were under a half-buried rock two-thirds of the way up, and around two-and-a-half feet in diameter.

i and a few other students decided to exhume the rock and roll it to one side in order to dig out the ants, a task easier said than done. 15 minutes and 38 bites into the exercise, one female student offered the following advice:

bitch: there are ants all over your shoes!
self: thank you for stating the obvious.
bitch: i was just trying to help...

the next time i need your brand of help, i'll call up firefighters to write a statement on how my house is burning.

ii. violent reaction

i used to think that the stigma of lasallians being spoiled brats was an exaggeration, but that group from the college of business and economics [dlsu's main output, unfortunately] seemed hell-bent on proving me wrong. as if that totally useless havaiana-clad princess wasn't enough, i also had to be in the company of "razorback boy" who:

a. showed up in the aforementioned tank top, aviator shades, and bearing a starbucks coffee tumbler.

b. asked to borrow the pickaxe, took two swings, tired himself out, and handed it back to me.

c. climbed to the top of the mound, took out his cellphone, and started searching for a signal.

earth to coños: it's a construction site. you will get dusty, you will get muddy. by lunchtime, you will be hungry, thirsty, tired, and drowning in your own sweat. if it rains, you will get wet and may even contract leptospirosis. if you can't handle that, you can take your elephantitis-ridden faces to gawad kalinga and show the kids there why they shouldn't count on you to give them a better future.

the fact is, you're in cbe for one of two reasons: either all your friends went there, or you're inheriting your parents' businesses; not because you give a shit about helping the motherland. i can tell, seeing as you'd rather hold hands with your just-as-inept boyfriend than transport sandbags, while he complains about the mud seeping through his nike work gloves.

either get a life or drop dead. preferrably the latter, as it's also a step towards solving overpopulation.

iii. action reaction

on site with us were students from korea's ewha women's college. 400 students volunteered for the field work, from which 14 were selected via written test and interview. it's such a shame that foreigners are competing for the opportunity to help our less fortunate brothers and sisters, and we are the ones shirking from the task. the difference is that they know that a lesson can be garnered from every experience, and they don't take these lightly.

a sudden downpour after lunch forced us indoors, from were we could make out their blurred silhouettes in plastic raincoats still digging trenches and laying gravel foundations. what's the lesson there?

if you start something, finish it.
if you do something, do it well.
if you refuse to contribute, don't be a puta and say "the work was hard but i had fun".

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 1:13 PM
comments (3)

sour-graping

took my advandb midterms yesterday. when the coverage is a set of seven powerpoint presentations, each with between 80 and 100 slides, you know you're in deep shit. adding to the fact that i was already expecting a line-of-three score, it suddenly hit me about thirty minutes after leaving the test venue that i'd neglected to write my name on the questionaire - a move tantamount to a deduction of 30 points.

thirty full points. that means that i could've possibly ended up with a negative score. peachy. just peachy.

i was so stressed out by the turn of events that i had a dream about our advandb professor [she who shall not be named]. let's call her "death prophet" for narration's sake:

the class, composed of my friends from both gokongwei and miguel, were being handled by the aforementioned "death prophet". she had written the textbook we were using, which, if i recall correctly, was on chemical engineering. it would make sense though, since neither my gox nor my cla friends are taking said subject, thus rendering it an equally new experience for both parties. anyway, "death prophet" was referring to a certain page in the book which spoke of her recent achievements as a scientist. she then dismissed the gokongwei group early, leaving the cla group [myself included] to do extra work, since we were the black sheep group or something.

disjoint and yet quite revealing, actually. some of you may be familiar with the issues that lead to this farce.

well, the results are just in, and i got 80 points, not counting deductions. i heard from renz that she's not pushing through with them anyway, but even if she did, i'd still get 50 points, which albeit a failing grade, is a whole lot better than a line-of-one score.

the funny thing is, now that i'm left with a mediocre score, i half-wish that i'd failed miserably and thus merited reason to rant about "death prophet" some more.

tear.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 12:57 AM
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guesswork

i. guess what?

straight from the pages of the malate logbook, with no cuts or edits, aside from the italicization:

Dear Loi,

Hello. Kamusta ka na?

Alam mo, naisip ko lang kahapon, mas masarap palang kumain kapag gutom. Seryoso.

Ano ang masasabi mo sa ginawa ni GMA. Ang liit nya 'no? Parang ako. Siguro dapat maging best friend ko siya.

Sabi sa akin dati ni mama, mukha daw akong bading kapag nakasuot ng dangling na hikaw. Totoo ba? Sana oo.

Dati, kumakain ako, si Mama, at si Papa sa lamesa. Nauna akong natapos kaya umalis na ako. After 5 minutes, pinuntahan ako ni Papa at sinabing "Anak, kumain ka na?"

Loi, dalaga ka na. Siguro panahon na para pumunta ka na sa ano. Sa Ponti at kung saan man ang gugustuhin mong party place. May nagsabi sa akin dati na nagpupunta ka daw dun. Sana naman ako sa susunod.

Sige na.

Gusto ko din mag-foam party. Para maraming ano. Foam.

Loi, sige hanggang dito na lang. Sana ay maging masaya ang buhay mo. Sana manatili kang mabait na kaibigan.

(Huwag mo sana kalimutan ang foam party.)

Sige, paalam.

Nagmamahal,
Robert ♥

ii. guess who?

"Class, 'yung iba sa inyo ang titigas ng ulo. Gusto talagang dumaldal! Ano na lang gagawin ko, ha? Pipikit na lang ba ako? O sige."

clue: this professor inadvertently uploaded the answers to an assignment along with the questions. most students still solved the problems manually, though, since we'd assumed that the said professor's solutions were erroneous, as usual.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 3:03 AM
comments (1)

we are one anila

hey, if they offer, we might as well take it, right?

www.one.org

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 8:17 AM
comments (0)

if you stare at certain words for a long time

they start looking strange.

big
pieces
of
the
green
egg
leader.

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 8:02 AM
comments (0)

love, actually

i had lunch with my friend jil last friday. over donuts and iced tea at cello's, she questioned my decision to remain single until i start working [by choice, i assure you]. i simply told her that i was happy with my current priorities [writing, dota, music, friends, drinking] and that i had no time for any further frivolities. she then said that i'd make time.

well of course i'd make time. that's the way experience works - in order to reach for new rungs in life, you have to step off old ones. the fact remains, though, that i have no desire to do so. unfortunately i didn't put it as eloquently the first retort around [i seem to recall using the 'd' word], which prompted her to diagnose me with a fear of commitment.

wow, like i hadn't heard that before. but why wouldn't a man be afraid of commitment? worst case scenario, it's too easy for a woman to marry, divorce, collect alimony, remarry, divorce, collect more alimony, ad infinitum. she can say "he was a jerk" and receive emotional support from her friends. that and all the money she's getting alleviates her guilt. and the captain? going down with the ship, sunk by debt, a broken heart, and a crushed ego.

it comes as no suprise to me that men are more hesitant to enter marriage than women. what is marriage, anyway? love and sex aside, marriage for women is security. if prince charming isn't quite so, so what? you're not the one spending for him. marriage for men is double the bills, and fhm with all the pictures cut out. if the princess is a royal pain, you're on the executioner's block and she lives happily ever after with the next hapless chap who rescues the dragon by mistake.

and all this from just the financial point of view. what about the emotional baggage? although women outnumber men four is to one, a ruthless woman would have a much easier time finding her next victim than one would think. it all boils down to this: it's much easier to make a man fall in love with a woman than to make said woman fall in love with a man. flattery and a good set of thighs are often all it takes. and what happens when the dream desintigrates? she cries, eats ice cream, and moves on. he drinks, wakes up with a hangover that never quite goes away, and sulks for a year and a half. for a woman, first love never dies; for a man, all love never dies.

not to say that all women are harpies, or that all men are accountants, but rather that one shouldn't be goaded into a long-term relationship by teasing friends if one dislikes the idea. end of story.

it is impossibe to love and to be wise. - francis bacon

many a man in love with a dimple makes a mistake of marrying the whole girl. - stephen leacock

a man in love is not complete until he is married; then, he is finished. - zsa zsa gabor

sige ingat.ü 
posted by stani at 6:55 AM
comments (2)