Written Contusions

Yesterday, after a hard day's work, I went with my friend Kate and we bought some office supplies because she was supposed to print her work. It was past 4 PM when we left the office. We headed to Alabang Town Center to buy the supplies that she needed. On the drive home, I was fidgeting with her CD case for Nickelback's Darkhorse album. I opened the case and I was eying her wickedly because another CD was in it -- the Carpenter's greatest hit album. That is how I learned of their cover of Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft.

I asked her how on earth did that CD ended up in the wrong case when she explained that the CD was her mother's. I scanned the CD since it was from the Carpenters. While reading the track titles, she predicted that she was sure I'll like one track. I asked that we listen to it and out of curiousity, I asked her if we could drive around a random block so I can finish listening to the song. As it turned out, the track is the weirdest song that I've ever heard of from the Carpenters.

Curious? Well, here's how it goes:



Want some more fun? Why don't we sing it together?

In your mind you have capacities you know
To telepath messages through the vast unknown
Please close your eyes and concentrate
With every thought you think
Upon the recitation we're about to sing

(*) calling occupants of interplanetary craft

Calling occupants of interplanetary most extraordinary craft

Repeat (*)

You've been observing our earth
And we'd like to make a contact with you
We are your friends

Calling occupants of interplanetary craft
Calling occupants of interplanetary ultra-emissaries

We've been observing your earth
And one night we'll make a contact with you
We are your friends

Calling occupants of interplanetary quite extraordinary craft

And please come on peace, we beseech you
Only a landing will teach them
Our earth may never survive
So do come, we beg you
Please interstellar policeman
Oh, won't you give us a sign
Give us a sign that we've reached you

With your mind you have ability to form
And transmit thought energy far beyond the norm
You close your eyes, you concentrate
Together that's the way
To send the message
We declare world contact day

Repeat (*) twice

We are your friends

As it turns out, the song was already a cover of the same song originally recorded by a band called Klaatu in 1976. It was supposed to be the original anthem for the World Contact Day. John Woloschuk, as qouted from Wikipedia, said:

The idea for this track was suggested by an actual event that is described in The Flying Saucer Reader, a book by Jay David published in 1967. In March 1953 an organization known as the "International Flying Saucer Bureau" sent a bulletin to all its members urging them to participate in an experiment termed "World Contact Day" whereby, at a predetermined date and time, they would attempt to collectively send out a telepathic message to visitors from outer space. The message began with the words..."Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!"

Sadly, Klaatu's version was overshadowed by the Carpenters' version. Nevertheless, thanks to both their efforts, we now have a song to enjoy. Now, if I can just concentrate and contact the ultra-emissaries -- calling occupants of interplanetary craft!

Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!
Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!
Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!
Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!
Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!
Calling occupants of interplanetary craft!

I am still not able to get over the new album of Alanis. In veneration for her, I have decided to repost this music video for Underneath. I love the concept of living inside a human heart!

Underneath Lyrics

Look at us break our bonds in this kitchen
Look at us rallying all our defenses
Look at us waging war in our bedroom
Look at us jumping ship in our dialogues

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath

Look at us our form our cliques in our sandbox
Look at us micro kids with both our hearts blocked
Look at us turn away from all the rough spots
Look at dictatorship on my own block

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath

How I've spun my wheels with carts before my horse
When shine on the outside springs from the root
Spotlight on these seeds of simpler reasons
This core, born into form, starts in our living room

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there
So why spend all our time in dressing our bandages
When we've the ultimate key to the cause right here, our underneath.

The Queen of Angst is back with another heart-wrenching album called Flavors of Entanglement. Alanis Morissette has successfully made an album that reflects all her different flavors. Flavors of Entanglement definitely gives fans and plain old listeners a surprise with its bold, eclectic and haunting songs.


Richard's picks for this album include Citizen of the Planet, which defines the bold flavor of this album. As the first track, this song definitely packs a wallop of musical intensity. This song is her way of saying that she is back and she is back to proclaim that she is a citizen of the planet. With this song, look out for the line that says "I fly back with my nuclear." For some odd reason, the daring mix of words, coupled with the scalding connotations of nuclear hit a heart-string of mine and it is now etched in my memory.

Aside from the boldness, you'll also hear the same kind of Alanis beats minus the electric guitar. The eclectic mix of sound in her songs now include a sitar and some Indian inspired musical instruments, or so I think. The song writing also offers a vast array of emotions within this album. The first song is triumphant in saying that she is back. Not as We has the introspective flavor that That I Would be Good had. I think that she has already grown up and bloomed into a full woman because she also mixed love in a not-so-gruesome way with In Praise of the Vulnerable Man.

Furthermore, it makes my hair stand on edge because some of the songs are haunting. Who would want to declare a moratorium on their love life? Make sure that you listen to that. Torch and Giggling Again for No Reason also made me feel flashbacks - old emotional time bombs in my heart came back to bite me.

I can't help myself! Call me brash and bold but I would dare and say that this album is the reinvention of Alanis. For me, who goes for everything, this album is a menagerie of eclectic and eccentrically flavored songs that will found ways into my hall of fame. For those who are picky, I am sure that some song in this CD will still give the resistant listener with an LSS or two.

Still can't get enough of Alanis? Check out her website at Alanis.com.

Tracks
Citizen of the Planet
Underneath
Straitjacket
Versions of Violence
Not as We
In Praise of the Vulnerable Man
Moratorium
Torch
Giggling Again for No Reason
Tapes
Incomplete

Give It All Away by Ben Jelen is my album of the moment.

According to my research, he writes his own music and lyrics. The album itself seems to be hung up on a girl but the melodies are good to listen to. Of course, my favorite song is the first song he released, "Come On," which came out with a very weird video where he was playing the piano and people were coming out of it. Other choice tracks include Rocks. I like it because it talks of things that crazy people do when they're in love - or is it the other way around? If you are getting a copy because I endorsed his album, don't forget to check the title track as well, Give It All Away.

Can't get enough of Ben Jelen?

Check his website out at BenJelen.com. This guy is so awesome; he also has a website for his foundation which promotes environmentalism at The Ben Jelen Foundation.

Track List:
Come On
Rocks
She'll Hear You
Give It All Away
Every Step
Christine
Wicked Little Town
Falling Down
Stay
Criminal
Slow Down
Setting Of The Sun

"I died in a car crash three days ago... ."

After hearing that line, Richard's attraction to morbidity awakened. He asked Raissa about that line and she told him that it was part of a song composed and sung by Vienna Teng. Later, when they arrived in the condominium, she pulled out the CD and played it for Richard to hear.

Instantly, Richard's eccentric musical taste became addicted to Vienna Teng's Music. Out of sheer curiosity and admiration, he researched about her and he found out that she was a so like him in many ways.

They were both Asian. They were both in lucrative careers in their respective countries but most importantly, they both let go of those things to so that they could follow their hearts and answered the call of their passion.

Being Asian is actually just a minor similarity. Richard was just thinking of something to add to his list of similarities with Vienna. Seriously, though it is just a minor one, Richard felt an affinity with Vienna. You may not know it and he may not look it but when he was in college, Richard was always asked if he was Chinese.

"My grandmother on my mother's side of the family is from the Nim family so I guess so. I couldn't really prove it but I want to believe it's the truth," he said to one guy from the business organization booth beside his org's booth during the recruitment period in their university.

Vienna, on the other hand, is pure Chinese, or so Richard thought. He was so obsessed with her that he researched her on the net. According to her website, ViennaTeng.com, Wikipedia got most of her information  right so he believed what he read there. After reading that, he learned that she is Taiwanese! There, he learned that she was as Cynthia Yih Shih and her birthday is celebrated every October 3. When he read that on October 14th, he felt somewhat sad because he wanted to celebrate the day and thank God for creating such a talented lady.

As he read on, he found out that Vienna started out as a software engineer in the Silicon Valley and she graduated from Stanford. Richard thought, "Hmmm.... it seems that she's also like me in that aspect. I'm also in a good paying job." He was working as a customer service representative for a call center then.

"So how did she become a singer-song writer?" he asked the monitor facing him. He tried looking for the answer and according to the official biography he found on Wikipedia, while she was at Stanford, she joined the Stanford Harmonics, an a capella singing group. She studied and wrote her music as well. Reading on, he found out that she recorded her songs and distributed her music around campus. It seemed to him that she was so great that it was just a matter of time before Virt Records signed her on as a recording artist.

Likewise, he was also like that. He studied psychology in De La Salle University. On his first year there, he mustered enough courage to undergo the Malate Literary Folio's application procedure to become a poetry staff. He got in as a probationary staff but to become a full-pledged staff, he needed to get published in the folio. Deadline after deadline, he submitted his works but he never got anything published until he joined the university's 10th Literary Awards. He won first place under the Filipino poetry category. More than the prize money, he found that seeing his name on the staff box of the Lit Awards edition of the folio more fulfilling. However, after graduation, he set aside his writing for a call center position. "Money for food before starving," was his motto then.

For Vienna, the rest was history after she quit her software engineering job. As for Richard, he has just recently abandoned his call center career to become a writing tutor. He figured that he could hit two birds with one stone with this job: he can live la vie bohemme and earn at the same time. He thinks that history will come for him soon. 

For now, he is just dreaming through the noise with Vienna. Her tracks makes him happy everyday. He is inspired by Vienna to continue writing. Realizing that he had similarities with her makes him feel that his time will come.

Since I don't have any post of my own, I'd like to post one song I heard that has poetry in it. Actually, all her songs have poetry in it but here it is... Bethlehem by Paula Cole

Bethlehem by Paula Cole

Pulling on the apron strings looking up
Standing on the chair to be grown up
I feel so little, I need my pillow
I hate the time, I hate the clock
I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock

Sunday's pancakes Miss Mary Mack
Color Polariods show my heart attack
In my second-hand pants and dusty shoes
The day that the playground laughed at my shoes
It's my birthday next week and what I want please
Is to turn on the heat so the fish won't freeze
The fish in the tank froze and died last week
Oh I want to be a dog or I want to be a leaf

Quarry miners, fishermen
In my town of Bethlehem
Picket fences, church at ten
No star above my Bethlehem

Now I'm only 16 and I think I have an ulcer
I'm hiding my sex behind a dirty sweatshirt
I've lost five pounds these past few days
Trying to be class president and get straight A's, well,
Who gives a shit about that anyway?
I want to be a dog or a lump of clay

Chorus

Still I'm tired of standing still
Tired of living - still
Everyday I dream of leaving

Everybody's talking about Becky's bust
The boys on the basketball team just fuck
The same ten girls, who don't know who they are
They're looking for some comfort in the back of a car
The six-packs of beer, the locker room jeers
I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here

Chorus

Red brick schoolhouse, dead end dirt roads, daffodils
No star above my Bethlehem

I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock
I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here

Last Thursday's result night of American Idol featured Natasha Bedingfield with a song I just heard that night called Pocket Full of Sunshine.

Naturally, since she is one of my favorite artists, I'm here to publish the video I found of Pocket Full of Sunshine. I found a flash version of the video and this is the first time I'm posting a video that did not come from youtube so I don't exactly know if this will display on every body's computer but hey, here it is. This is so brilliant!




For more music and information about Natasha Bedingfield, you could log on to her official website, natashabedingfield.com.

Wishes anyone? I have found out that in Japan, people tell of a strange artifact called the Monkey's Paw. It is a mummified paw of a monkey and is said to have the power to grant anything that the possessor could wish for.

A few months back, perhaps early February of this year, I found an episode of XXX-holic with this same theme. It was spine tingling.

Now, I have recently finished reading Stephen King's Pet Sematary and the phrase came up again. monkey's paw. After some rummaging through the story, I found out that there is a short story about this devious artifact.

Quick summary: Be careful what you wish for.

Enjoy reading The Monkey's Paw

---

photo from http://mrstickman.deviantart.com/art/Chacma-Baboon-43083381

What if.mp3

A lot of people might not know that Kate Winslet can sing. Enjoy!

The Three Incestuous Sisters
by Audrey Niffenegger

I have picked this book up from Powerbooks in Glorietta 3 last year and I wasn't able to put it down. Good thing that the bookstore had an opened sample book for me to read.

Being a surrealist myself, I liked the graphic novel style that it comes in. The pictures are grotesque (I agree with the review from Publishers Weekly) and quite haunting too. It gave a look of darkness born out of an intense desire to covet a precious object. I remember shaking my head as the three sisters scheme to get the man that they all fell in love with. With this in mind, I was thankful that when me and my sister had fights, it didn't escalate to the level these three sisters went to.

Here's a short summary from Associated Content:

There are three sisters: Bettine, the luminous blonde, the mystical
and blue-haired middle child, Clothilde; and the dreary black-haired eldest,
Ophile. They live in a coastal isolation worthy of Emily Dickinson until Bettine
falls in love with Paris the lighthouse keeper's son. Ophile goes nearly insane
with envy, while Clothilde magically mentors her unborn nephew, the Saint
(which, in case you're worried, is as close as we get to the incest referred to
in the title). When Ophile's jealousy leads to Bettine's death, the
green-skinned Saint is picked up by a traveling carnival. More loss, grief
and high drama ensue before the Saint finds his way back to his ancestral home.

The pictures alone are worth every penny you will pay for this book. I haven't quite fully understand why I like this book or what it means but it is definitely in my list of good books to buy apart from Neil Gaiman.

Two days ago, I was watching the TV and I was just randomly flicking channels, I stumbled upon a show featuring new websites to visit.

Drawn! is a multi-author blog devoted to illustration, art, cartooning and drawing. Its purpose is to inspire creativity by sharing links and resources.
Albert Einstein said, “The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources,” but what the hell did he know anyway?
The links and posts on Drawn! are written by a small group of professional illustrators, designers, and cartoonists.

picture from http://www.drawn.ca/; art by Melanie Baillairge.

Last year, I discovered an anime called Mushishi. The storyline revolves around Mushis, a primeaval life form, said to be in touch with the essence of life. Being so, they have supernatural powers and creates curious, if not deadly effects on human beings. The story's main character is Ginko, travelling from place to place to research Mushi and aid people suffering from problems caused by them. The series is an episodic anthology in which the only common elements among episodes are Ginko and the various types of Mushi*.

I have taken the initiative to post the opening theme song by Ally Kerr here so you could sample the vibe of the series. This is also partly how I conceived of this blog and the "green" feel of it.

*excerpt from Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mushishi)

I've first encountered Wislawa Szymborska when one day, I bought a DVD of the film Turn Left, Turn Right. As I was watching, the heroine of the story recited a poem called Love at First Sight. I liked the poem instantly and I became curious about the poet and her other poems.

My search for Wislawa wasn't very easy because for one thing, her name is very difficult to spell. When I got through to one site telling about her, I found myself on Nobelprize.org and I was happy to find out that she was a Nobel Prize winner for literature in 1996.

I was telling everybody about her then and one of my friends, Donna, told me she had a collection of Wislawa's poems and I asked her if I could borrow it. She lent it to me and I almost didn't want to give it back to her.

You may read about Wislawa Szymborska and her poems through these links

• biography
• poems

It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great

to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines
hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors
that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical cords.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow
dirty tears are falling.

Walking along is a poem from Pablo Neruda. This version is translated by Robert Bly.