A boatload of stars with mean Irish accents...

...that basically sums up my first impression of The Departed, which stars Jack Nicholson, et. al. Okay, I know that's an understatement. There's Leonardo "I'm from a family of criminals trying to do The Right Thing" Di Caprio, Matt "I look so clean-cut but I'm one sinister fellow" Damon, Martin "this is my first gig since The West Wing, and I still sound like Jed Bartlett" Sheen, Mark "one profanity a second" Wahlberg, and Alec "the best-looking but now looking extremely middle-aged" Baldwin.

Oh, yeah, and for some reason, they just had to put in an African-American actor-- Anthony Anderson. The name of the cop (state trooper!) he plays in the movie? BROWN. How's that for in-your-face irony?

Here's a synopsis of the movie, which is directed by Martin Scorsese and is a remake of the hit Hong Kong movie Internal Affairs.

Since I have yet to watch the original-- those who've watched it say it is awesome-- I won't make any comparisons. By itself, it's a pretty entertaining movie, if violence and blood being splattered all around is your thing.

(An aside. This is, by my count, the third movie Scorsese and Di Caprio have done together. Is this Di Caprio's way of distancing himself from his cheesy role as Titanic's boyish lead? Is he trying to say, "yeah, I am now a bad-ass dude who can do violent action movies and look credible doing it"? His next movie is Blood Diamond, another violent flick. My prediction? Di Caprio will not appear clean-shaven in his next few roles. He wants everyone to know that he is a MAN. My suggestion? Get a new voice box. You'll ALWAYS sound like a little boy.)

Another thing. The music in the movie kicks ass. I was expecting more U2, but I guess Bono and company are too busy saving the world to write songs for another bloody Scorsese project. If they do put all the songs here in their OST, it should be worth buying.

Overall, they do manage to sell you with their accents. Jack Nicholson, of course, steals the show as one real bad-ass. Nobody does it like Jack. If you only need one reason to watch this movie, he's IT.

A little ranting is good for the soul...

...and if you get published in a newspaper while you're at it, so much the better.

In page 14 of the October 4 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, my letter to the editor (based on this rather long blog of mine), sent during the (electricity-less) weekend after Typhoon Milenyo hit:

Can’t we avoid tragedies caused by typhoons?

IT DOESN’T take a genius to know that at least once a year, we will be hit by a tropical storm so strong it’s going to cause disasters and power outages in various places around the country.

Take Bicol, for example. In 1988, the region was hit by a storm that was so forceful the whole area went without electricity for months. In 1993, Typhoon “Sisang” hit Bicol and the region had no power for two weeks. After Typhoon “Milenyo,” Bicol might spend another Christmas in darkness. The reason for all these? Toppled power lines. Were these fixed in the past? Yes. Was something done to prevent similar episodes from happening? No.

So each time a powerful typhoon blows across our region, my fellow Bicolanos hear the same old refrains: “Be patient; don’t complain; everyone else doesn’t have electricity; you’re better off, because at least you have a roof over your head; prayer and national solidarity will get us through this crisis.”

Give me a break.

Patience, they say, is a virtue. In our case, however, it is a virtue that has been abused, time and again, by idiots who claim to be the best leaders we can have. Natural calamities have become so commonplace in this country you’d think by now we’d know what to do to cushion their impact.

When will enough be enough? How many people have to die, how many Filipinos have to lose their homes, how many floods do we have to put up with, how many “power-less” days must we live through before something is really done to prevent these from happening?

“An ounce of prevention,” the saying goes, “is worth a pound of cure.” It’s a lesson that our leaders, apparently, have yet to learn.

White Papers, Anonymity, and Cough Syrup

Around this time last year, a white paper criticizing former Chief Justice Davide's Memorandum Order making the Supreme Court Program Management Office permanent was making the rounds of the Court. The paper raised several issues regarding the Chief's Memorandum Order, and called on Court employees to wear red in protest.

I criticized the white paper, not so much on its merits (not that it had many), but the manner in which it advanced its positions. As I said in my blog, I don't believe in "supporting causes being espoused by nameless, faceless people" because I've always held that the willingness to express one's opinions must be accompanied by the courage to stand by them.

I've always maintained that anonymity is a blanket under which cowards hide, a convenient means to evade the responsibility of having to answer for their beliefs. You say or do something, you take responsibility for it. You write something, you sign your name and say, "hell, yeah, I wrote it." That's why when I was asked permission to have my blog printed and distributed, I had no qualms about saying yes. Did I offend the writers of the white paper? Probably. Did I care? No. I said the white paper's author was gutless, and one year later I still feel the same way.

Gutlessness, it appears, is catching. An anonymous officemate (or officemates) sent me and my fellow SC Chief Judicial Staff Officer, Atty. JM Erni, a bottle of cough syrup, with a short note. It seems someone was offended by our -ahem- coughing. According to our generous cough syrup donor, JM and I are insensitive, ill-mannered virus-spreaders who give no thought to the health and welfare of our officemates.

When did these supposed incidents occur? What exactly did we do? Who was at the receiving end of our spittle? Whose auditory senses were offended by my constant throat-clearing? So many questions, no answers forthcoming-- ah, the pitfalls of anonymity.

Anyway, for the benefit of the (anonymous) offended party (or parties), some clarifications are in order. You need not worry about catching something. You see, JM and I are both asthmatics and are allergic to many, many things. (I suspect we're allergic to idiots and cowards, hence our runny noses, coughing, and wheezing.) She carries a mini-drugstore in her bag. I have a stockpile of Claritin in my drawer. These are the only reasons we get through a day of working amongst (anonymous) morons and (anonymous) wimps without going through anaphylactic shock.

If-- as I suspect-- you are offended by things other than our coughing, you should feel free to fire off another anonymous note. I suspect there are other things about us you find distasteful. Maybe it's the smell of UP Diliman, something we can't get off our clothes no matter how hard we try. Maybe it's our youth, which we can't hide no matter how many lines public service adds to our faces. Maybe it's the unhidden sound of disdain in our voices, the contempt we have for those who are unwilling or unable to give Filipino taxpayers their money's worth.

It could be anything, but we won't know for sure until someone has the courage to say what he or she REALLY WANTS TO SAY, and grows enough backbone be held accountable for what is said.

Till then, don't blame us if we keep on coughing. As I said, we're allergic to cowards.

Unlike Mike

One point. One. Frigging. Point.

This was how much Kobe Bryant scored against the Phoenix Suns in the second half of Game 7 of their best-of-seven series. A do-or-die game. Win-or-go-home time. The pride of one of the greatest franchises in professional sports history on the line and what does Kobe do?

He only attempts THRICE in the second half of the game. THREE times.

It's not as if the game was beyond reach at the half. The Suns led, 60-45, but the Lakers had 24 minutes of basketball to turn things around. Sure, the Lakers were getting their asses handed to them, but for crying out loud, they had TWENTY FOUR frigging' minutes to play some defense, get their acts together, and win the damn game.

The pathetic performances of the other Lakers weren't surprising. That's a given. But I thought Kobe was going to do his darnedest to WILL his team to victory, which Michael Jordan tried EVERY time. Sure, Jordan's Bulls got beat. Hell, they got beat ALL the time. But their opponents bled for each and every win. Jordan may not have won games against Larry Bird early in his career, but at least he won Bird's respect.

(An aside. How competitive was Jordan? In practices, his team, naturally, would lead by a WIDE margin over the second team. At halftime, he would be put on the other team. And he would still play his ass off to win. And most times, he did.)

That, unfortunately, is what Kobe's lost in his sub-par Game 7 performance-- respect. Everything that defines him-- his competitiveness, his fire, his relentlessness-- these are the things that draw comparisons to Jordan. And these are the things that were absent in the most important minutes of the Suns-Lakers series.

This could have been it. The game that could've made Kobe Bryant a legend. He didn't have to win it. All he had to do was play his heart out and try. He didn't. That's why "Be Kobe" will never sound as good as "Like Mike."

"What's that? That's the sound of an upset, man!"

An Inconvenient Truth

An Inconvenient Truth is a new documentary about the environment set for release in the US on May 24. Aside from its really cool name, the documentary also features a very somber, very serious Al Gore declaring "if you look at the ten hottest years ever recorded, they've all occurred in the last fourteen years; and the hottest of all... was 2005."

The trailer, by itself, is enough to send shivers down your spine. Images of a not-so-snowy Mt. Kilimanjaro, shrinking polar ice caps, and disappearing land masses... really scary stuff.

Anyway, I got to thinking about the movie after spending a week in the not-so-cool mountain air of Baguio City for the Supreme Court's summer sessions. It wasn't cold. During the day, there were times I had to take off my barong tagalog and work in my undershirt because it was just SO FRIGGIN' HOT. Yeah, in the mornings, it was cold. In the evenings, it was cool too. But when the sun was up, FORGET ABOUT IT. Keep your jacket at home, folks, especially if you plan on walking around the City of Pines.

My point?

Global warming has been a concept scientists and environmentalists have used to scare governments and corporations into making efforts to protect the environment. Their success has been hindered by the inability to show that global warming is a phenomenon that is affecting us TODAY, not a hundred-- not a thousand-- years from now.

This movie gives us a first-hand look at the effects of global warming, and it looks like it's going to shock a lot of people. I hope it does. Because we need to stop screwing our environment. Or it's going to screw us back.

Life Is Unfair

Five things that have made me say “life isn’t fair...”

(In no particular order)

1. Allen Iverson is not asked to join the United States men's basketball team.

When NBA superstars turn down invitations to join the national team for personal reasons, you appreciate those few who unequivocally say they're willing to play, especially since joining the US national team pool is three-year commitment. Allen Iverson was the first, the biggest star to volunteer. And how is he rewarded? He has to stand on the sidelines as less-talented, less-experienced NBA players get to don the red, white, and blue.

Let's not talk about Iverson's talent, because everyone knows the guy can play. Let's talk about his heart. The guy earns his paycheck every game. He plays through injury. He plays his guts out. He doesn't whine. He's fearless. And-- as he showed in Athens in 2004-- he plays to win, even when his teammates don't.

This guy has nothing to prove. The way he plays-- banging into people who weigh twice as much as him-- he could suffer an injury while playing for his country. Yet, while those with his stature-- and less-- have turned down invites to the US basketball team, he's stepped forward. That someone so richly deserving has been denied the honor of representing his country is just plain criminal.

2. Paula Abdul continues to judge the contestants of American Idol.

Does anyone remember her classics... "Forever Your Girl?" "Opposites Attract?" "Straight Up?" If you can't remember, it's either (1) you're too young to remember (count yourself lucky), or (2) none of her songs was remotely memorable.

There's a reason Paula Abdul is no longer singing... she can't. Yeah, she can dance-- you don't become a Laker girl if you can't shake your booty. But sing? If you can find one of her songs on the internet, download one of them, listen to it, and hear for yourself. She's not incapable of carrying a tune, but she's certainly in no position to judge Idol contestants-- most of whom could out-sing her in their sleep.

3. Most of the world uses PCs, not Macs.

Most people are surprised when they learn that the Windows operating system "pioneered" by Microsoft was based on a Mac operating system. Most of those introduced to the world of personal computing by Windows are also unaware that the term "personal computers" was first used for the Apple personal computer. The mouse? First used on a Mac. The look of the modern laptop? Based on Apple's first PowerBooks. The first true touch pad? Another Apple product. (Read more here.)

Such is the story of Apple Computer, Inc.-- always on the cutting edge of technology, but unable to profit from its own innovations.

It's their fault, of course. They eschewed the IBM PC/MS OS business model, refusing to let other computer companies use Mac OS because they were afraid that other computer manufacturers wouldn't be able to make hardware good enough to do justice to their software. Bill Gates and IBM didn't care, and they raked in billions, while Apple built a very loyal-- albeit, very small-- following.

Still, the fact that most PC users spew expletives left and right from dealing with Windows-- while almost nothing uncomplimentary about Macs can be heard from Mac users-- has done little to increase Apple's share in the personal computer market.

Macs have a stable, crash-free, ridiculously easy-to-use operating system; amazing software that allows you to unleash your creativity without getting bogged down by the technical aspects; and they're simply beautiful. That Apple's desktops and portables have barely 3% of their respective markets is insane.

4. Filipinos are the biggest basketball fans in the world... and we're short.

We're a basketball-crazy country. Blame the Americans. Or the Spanish, for not sticking around long enough to pass to us their love for the Beautiful Game. Whatever the case, by becoming enamored with a game where height is might, we've doomed ourselves to a lifetime of heartache, as we watch incarnation after incarnation of our men's basketball team get manhandled in international competition, and content ourselves with cheering the US team during the Olympics. (Or Argentina... MANU! MANU! MANU!)

5. Filipinos are gifted artists who get no love from their people, or their government.

The Philippine Madrigal Singers are an award-winning choral group, "the most awarded and acclaimed choir in Asia, having consistently won all the first prizes in the world's most prestigious and toughest choral competitions for many years."

Have you watched any of their shows lately?

Anatoli Panasiukov, a product of the Bolshoi Ballet, is the ballet master of Philippine Ballet Theater (PBT), the country's premier classic ballet company. He's danced with the best in the world, but is now training our country's best dancers.

Why would someone who's danced with the best in the world want to teach here? PBT's dancers are so good that they have a ballet master who has stuck around despite small audiences and far-from-impressive wages. Sadly, even the dancers might disappear, too. With small audiences come small wages, and with Hong Kong Disneyland offering better compensation, our dancers are slowly following our other skilled workers abroad.

Government officials spend thousands of dollars to watch Manny Pacquiao fight. Pacquiao beats some Mexican up in the US, and he comes home a hero. When he's here, politicians fall over themselves to "honor" him. Politicos bring out the red carpet for someone who brings honor and glory to our country with his fists, but do little or nothing to honor the artists who make us proud. How about giving some love (and your money) to those who bring honor to our country with their voices, their bodies, and their talent?