hmmbivalent

I can't expound in detail the reasons why I felt depressed the last two weeks. Reasons, conspiracy theories, hasty conclusions. They are meant for animated conversations with close friends over cold beer or coffee.

Sometimes I would rather take things to myself and just zip my mouth shut. Sometimes the silence means nothing in particular, it's just that I want to avoid otherwise pointless conversations, unnecessary niceties. Other times, silence is used when I want to speak in volumes.

It is a cunning and powerful tool, I must say.

Clearly suffering from a routine malaise... and must admit: some post-VDay blues.

Oh well.

It was twitted last night by my favorite Pinay VJ of all time, Sarah Meier (who I had the privilege of working with for an event last year) - MTV Philippines is saying farewell.

MTV was part of my growing-up years. The highlight of my grade school days was MTV Most Wanted and watching THE Nadja Hutagalung, THE Mike Kasem, THE Jamie Aditya, and their crazy antics. I have planned to send a request and I still have my notebooks where I sketched my ideas like DaVinci. The MTV Singapore address was part of my grade school address book - who knows, I just might need to make an emergency overseas call to request a video or something. In fact, I think I knew the address and number by heart.

There was a time when my strict, morally upright/uptight aunt banned us from watching MTV because one, sex was suggested and two, we were watching too much TV. We were pissed off of course. But when we had the chance, what has to be done was done: we tuned in. It was really the time when I really took to heart the channel's slogan: I FUCKING WANT MY MTV!!!



We knew each station ID, sometimes even reenacted it. My favorite was the one with the butterfly-like steel MTV logo hovering above the girl who was reading. And then she suddenly sticks out her looooong purple tongue and swallows the logo whole. She smiles and says, "MTV... Mwaaaaah."

MTV was the culture thermometer - we pubertal kids then knew what's hot or not from the videos they played. Yes, the music inevitably help us shape who we are today: the stiletto-wearing dance music fiends, the fuck-you-I-don't-give-a-fuck rakistas, the grills-and-hoodies-and-Nike-Dunks hip-hop dudes, or maybe all of the above, depending on our mood.

Proof of this channel's stronghold on our culture is that it is a household name, synonymous to music videos. We would say, "Napanood mo na yung MTV ng Spice Girls?" or even "Napanood mo na ba yung bagong MTV ng Radiohead sa Channel V?"

MTV crept into college life, holding concerts, covering org events. We welcomed them with open arms. Even after the students filed out of our humble theater, we stayed on, chatted with the VJs, had our pictures taken. MTV was there on the last org event I attended before graduation. And Marc Abaya was there to do interviews. Of course we had our pictures taken. It was obligatory.

The channel brought our family together. Everyone - including my grandparents - tuned in to watch Chris Pontius prance in a leopard thong and Steve O puke his lunch out or offer his butt cheeks to a hungry croc. We would take a look at celeb houses and pretend that hmm, we'll be getting the race car bed for our room or build a full-sized basketball court in our backyard too or perhaps get a Rolls Royce just because it would look good in our garage. The Hills and Sweet 16 were our guilty pleasures: we love shouting expletives at those often ungrateful kids and shaking our heads in dismay.

When I became part of the workforce, watching TV has somewhat become a little luxury. But one thing remained: MTV was my default channel. If I don't have any show in mind, I still tuned in, usually while I have breakfast.

Which brings me to this day's first meal. I would've checked last night if there was still MTV but was too groggy to do so. While I sipped my morning brew, I remembered and changed the channel. A blue screen stared back at me. Wala na nga talagang MTV Philippines.

Yes, today is no sweet Feb 16. It is a sad day because video was killed.

Goodbye MTV Philippines and thanks for the memories. You will be surely missed.

I would just like to express my sheer disappointment from today’s news.

Yesterday, I was telling a friend to keep the happy-happy-joy-joy link I shared with him for tomorrow’s sorrow. Little did I know that tomorrow’s sorrow had my name etched on it. In Helvetica bold and Pantone 1955.

This morning, I thought, the 31st is just days away; maybe I should start brushing up on their songs again. Hot Fuss was the only album I enjoyed immensely and in its entirety. The rest, imho, was blah save for some songs here and there.

See, I even created this playlist:

Read My Mind was playing when the IM popped and the bomb was dropped. There was no way but to respond to the news but with a crisp “ULOL.” I found the link, read it with disbelief. This can’t be true. Baka naman sa Singapore lang.

The most logical thing to do was to call the ticket sellers. Which I did because I can be logical too. I can hear the smirk of the girl on the other line. “Tuloy po. San po ninyo nakuha yang balita?” Hmm, let me see ah, in this ultrasupermega thing called the internet? Apparently, they aren’t online as it happens.

The tweets flooded, pointing to links that had the said press release. One was posted on this music channel’s blog. Okay. So. That’s. It. It’s. Oveeeeeeer.

Yes, I am so upset, I’m still shaking just thinking about it. My innards quiver in frustration. My blood curdles into the consistency of stale taho.

I shelled out a significant amount of money, and might have even paid more if people were in the same deranged plane as I am. Yes, that’s despite the little possibility of watching it for free. That’s how much I wanted to secure my place in the dusty grounds of MOA.

But more than the moolah, which should be refunded of course, a friend sums up what makes this whole cancellation shebang utterly disappointing & frustrating: Minsan na nga lang may pumuntang matino, na-cancel pa. Puro na lang tayo Pomeranz.

Yes, and add to that The Cascades: Still Alive, stress on the sub-title please, and The Beach Boys whose boys I’m assuming are already fathers to boys. We are hungry for our groups of our time, our Day and Age, whose songs we sung or danced to, whose lyrics we post as status messages in this very social networking site.

And so I ask you Brandon Flowers and company, how did it end up like this? Did it start with a kiss? I had a feeling the indefinite hiatus was a publicity stunt, so that you could rake in the bucks like Beyonce’s husband who retired but resurfaced.

I don’t give a damn if that’s the case; again, I was willing to pay. But no, Mr. Flowers and friends: today’s announcement was a crippling blow to your legions of fans, some who had the mananahi craft wedding gowns smothered with sequins and feathers, bought engagement and wedding rings, booked priests, and borrowed AK-47s and M79s for what could’ve been the marriage-proposal-shotgun-wedding-of-the-century. Ahem.

(Or is my marriage-proposal-shotgun-wedding-of-the-century the “unforeseen circumstance” you were referring to?)


I’m sorry but today you’re not humans and neither are you dancers. Today, you are dunces. And yes, I say it with a smile. Because I mean it. Everything will not be alright. There may be no motive for this crime, yes but believe me Natalie, I am pissed. You can feel it in my bones. I may be on my knees looking for the answer but it’s clear: indie rock and roll has been stripped off its glamour. And you are not on top. Andy is not a star. It’s only natural.

And yes, it will be a long time before I’ll use your lyrics again in one deranged, disappointed, and dripping with disdain paragraph.

Tomorrow, fellow frustrated friends, let’s huddle at our usual spot in Cubao as we all shout, “Kili-kili nyo Killers! We will kill you!”



Oh and see you on the 31st. Not of this month, but on March. Kings of Convenience are coming.

i have been kept on my toes the past week, thus the neglect, the silence.

(for the record, i am not complaining at all. stating facts, that's all. i am very happy with the outcome of work, yay!)

anyway. today, i was kept busy for an hour or so by three things:

there. 2010 beams with so much promise, i love it already. :)

paano nga kaya?

Enjoyed this one, esp tracks Pina Horchata, Cross Eyed People, Crystalized in the Sky.

finally, was able to see this. i am always late.

watching it was perhaps the best break i've had this year (yes, it's only the 9th day of the year). detachment, although brief, is fun.

note to self: gondry's crazy kookiness will keep me grounded and sane.

---

i haven't been in a dark room in ages to, well, do stuff aside from sleeping.

the only light comes from this laptop, the digital alarm clock, the speakers. listening to these 2 Norwegian boys who'd rather dance with you than talk.

the room reeks of anti-stress pillow mist.

---

and yes, i am reminded of you.

---

sometimes i wish i wasn't obliged to close my eyes because i feel like i'm missing a lot of things, mostly personal.

it is exactly 3:47 am in this side of the planet.

after a 10-min nap in the cab, i am back on track, picking off exactly where i left off. but this time armed with a mug of steaming Swiss Miss.

this week probably tells a lot on how 2010 will be:

(a) shelled out a significant amount of my savings to watch the coolest eyeliner-wearing Mormon in the planet because i think it's time i propose... on all fours.
(b) wrote my 1st review for a music blog a friend has created. biased and written like a true deranged, closet Francophilic fan girl.

yes, this year perhaps will be a proactive year for music.

and i am giddy, giddy, giddy, my heart races as fast as Ezra and his hair's* song:



they are separate entities, you see. Love Contra, btw.

Candy canes. These Western thingies remind me of a relative who used to live in this posh village, their neighbor was the Star for All Seasons, no less.

It was Christmas season, and it was my first time to meet them. I remember being enamored by their decorated living area - a huge tree, huge moving Santa Claus, gifts, a moving train. It was straight out of a mall display... or a Christmas episode of Dynasty.

The highlight of the day: the lola telling us to go ahead, get all the candy we want. I went straight to the tree and got myself a huge candy cane.



And yes, this Christmas-y reflections came in late.

*Whatever happened to Sneaker Pimps?

A vegan sandwich, haphazardly created before leaving for work, and Born Ruffian's Little Garcon.

Ah, can't help it if I sometimes shun talk and choose to be left alone with lunch, a decent pair of headphones, and great music.

Indulgence, hoo-haa.




Hmm, I think I'll christen my hypothetical band with this post's title.

in an ideal world, 4:00 am is the default wake up time. everything feels better when i'm up before dawn.

in reality however, it marks the beginning of slumber.

meanwhile,

It is very clear: You could be my Dan; I, your Shannan.

We'll live in a barn with our dogs, where there's a frazzled garden. There we shall pick some jerkins to make pickles with. And when we're not busy boiling vats of vinegar and sterilizing mason jars, we shall be busy with our art. Maybe fill shared notebooks with doodles and nonsense. Have our friends over and just chill (your catchphrase).

Steady.