coda ... for now

due to the events of the last few weeks (no, not the emergence of her dumbness Sarah Palin), i've come to conclude that i won't be able to post in this blog as much as i would like to, as i need a lot more time these days to get my head into writing something substantial (as if i do that anyway). this blog has encompassed the personal and the outside view, the important and the mundane, the funny and the sad, and a great deal of it examining pop culture through my dirty eyeglasses.

digital dust, through its initial incarnation in Xanga and Blogger 1.0, has been my baby since 2003. the years have zipped by quickly, spawning a couple more blogs along the way. some time back, i opened a Vox account to get a version 2.0 of dust rolling, but that never got off the ground as much. i kept going back to Blogger. and for good measure. now, perhaps the time has come to close the door on this particular tome.

not that i've come to dislike blogging - far from it. writing gives me a slice of peace of mind, but at the same time activating it in all directions. its the one thing my parents blessed me with, i think, and although i wouldn't say i squandered that talent, i don't think its enough to pay my bills anyway. its more of a pleasure that i indulge in. however, it takes a lot more energy to string words these days that somehow make sense or make people laugh. one of my favorite topics to blog about is looking back at my childhood and fondly reminiscing and laughing at myself. my family recently sent me scanned copies of old pictures of my wonder years - the wife and i were in stitches all night. maybe at some point, in some form or another, i'll be sharing those with you. assuming i'm not senile by then.

i won't be deleting this blog (now how else would you be reading this eh?), and i hope Blogger keeps it up for sometime (is there a cutoff date for non-activity and they delete it themselves?). i'll still be posting in the shared blog with my pals, and my own stream-of-consciousness dabbling with my first love, comicbooks. at this point, it is easier for me pound a few keys, paste a few links and get on with my life. plus there's always my flickr page. am still going back here from time to time as i am too lazy to bookmark the links i usually visit on the right sidebar.

within a month or so, America will have a new president, and the way its going, there could be chaos either way. assuming the economy hasn't completely fallen flat on its place, there's still scary stuff out there. the blogosphere can be a force for change, but it can only do so much. perhaps you'll find me out there.

thanks for passing by, boys and girls. see you around. the internet's a big place, but not that big. ask the CIA.

brb

urbanites

in the past week or so, i've had some kind of contact from old friends from my short stint in the late, maybe-not-so-lamented Urban Bank. for those who still remember, Urban Bank was a solid pillar in the Philippine financial community until an unfortunate series of events brought it crashing down to earth. 10 years later, i feel like part of a seminal rock band, which kind of broke up just before they hit the big time,  and the dissolution became a very hyped disaster. i left the Bank about a year before it went under, and i feel sorry for those who stayed behind then had to scurry like rats to flee the sinking ship. a sad story to this day, which culminated in the death of star banker TCB.

oh, yeah, back to my old friends. i received a message in my old Friendster account (i know, i know, i barely update the damn thing) that my friend Loida was getting married. i exchanged emails with her sometime back, and she was at a crossroads because her fiance and her had an adorable daughter and their wedding was called off. now, happy days have come again for her as she served notice that she was marrying the guy early this month. they've been together for such a long time, that there should be no other ending. congratulations, Loids!

the other contact i had (again through the trendy-in-2003 Friendster) was from the Australian transplant Maricris, who started a blog and ehem, credited yours truly for inspiring her. Maricris was the older sister/hen we had in our department, and she kept an even keel on things even though we didn't know what the hell we were doing (speak for yourself, grifter). the funniest thing i ever heard from her was her nickname during the Yuletide season (hence the name of her blog). she used to lend me Dragonlance books and that was my one-and-only time brush with fantasy novels, despite not having played any D&D and my tastes ran more along the lines of political/military superthrillers. having lost track of her in the ensuing years, i only had Friendster to tell me that she and husband moved to Oz with their daughter. she actually may have other ties to me as her sister worked with my mother-in-law in the previous decade. funny how life is.

oh, and before August ends, although he won't read this anyway, belated happy birthday, Pong Pagong! thank you for throwing me a line in 1996. it was quite an interesting 17 months.

1992 was so long ago ...

and i miss my well-worn copy of Zander Hollander's Pro Basketball Handbook. he made the reader so familiar with these strange tall men. so we'll just say goodbye to Duck. sorry you ran into that certain Chicago God, er ... guard.

since they can't read this anyway ...

TIBET! TIBET! TIBET! TIBET! TIBET!

why are the Americans kowtowing to the Chinese? politics and money.

we have a Chinese Mainlander technician onsite now, and he's been adamant about things Japanese, World War II, and their current business practices. i've restrained myself so far about discussing Tibet with him. someone might go postal.

call you crazy

is this really the future? (for my young countrymen, at least)

"outsourcing" and "call centers" became two of the very important catchphrases at the turn of this century. the latter in particular becoming an overnight industry that spread like wildfire over the globe, with the maturation of the Internet and the reduction of (most of) the world to a true global village. and for (still) developing countries like the Philippines and India, who are not lacking in English language skills, putting up call centers and providing local employment has been a lucrative business.

and today's fresh graduates see it both as a potential first job and a fallback option, not to mention a trendy career opportunity. years ago, it was BS Commerce. then it was Computer Science (no disrespect to AMA and STI). now, i'm not sure if teenagers are not dreaming and wishing: "i want to be a call center agent when i grow up!"

i've had more than a passing experience with this, as my sister, whom we have high hopes for, landed a call center job - as her first job (i think). not a knock against the CC people. i'm just saying it seems like its a lifestyle for the desperate. do i really want to reverse my normal daily cycle - sleep by day and work at night? miss proper meals? get pressured by trainers and managers while your job security depended on not passing out? i've seen my sister go through that hell, and applauded when she finally quit that job.

so, in that article above, am i surprised that the Philippines had the worst turnover rate? no. i'm just surprised at the high number.

it was bound to happen anyway. you do too much, too soon, and burnout happens. is the demand really that high? are Americans too lazy already and can't possibly do this themselves? i guess they are ... obesity is a major problem and they don't need more of their people sitting around in cubicles, putting weight, and getting angina from irate debt-ridden fellow citizens. thanks for passing that along to the Third World, fellas.

and what about these standards? speaking English well gets you in the door for an interview, but then you have to pass rigorous testing before you are even deemed worthy of a paltry salary (maybe in two years, you might become team leader ... ooohh, reminds me of the ridiculous officer training in some banks). and who are we helping really? sure, it may put food in some tables, but you can't consistently do that if you're sick, dead or dying now, can you? might still be better off being an OFW, now, but then again, once you think about the corrupt government who's leeching off you ... well, that's another story.

At Convergys, training managers boast to new trainees that only one out of every 100 applicants they interviewed are actually hired. “So, you’re the best, the cream of the crop!" he tells a trainee.

what crop? what cream? are you sure this is cream? looks like sour milk to me.

speaking of Convergys, my sister did apply with them (yes, apparently this whole thing isn't behind her, as well as for a large majority of ex-CC agents, i suppose), and even before a dream came to fruition (a dream that didn't really pay much), majority of their batch-in-training got terminated even before they were officially hired. what a classy organization. do you really want to put "terminated @ my last job" in your CV?

in an effort to "understand" this atrocious turnover rate:

Both ACS and Convergys have “exit interviews" for all call center agents resigning or getting fired, to find out the reasons and causes of the high turnover rate in the industry. A pattern is slowly emerging from these studies—- bad training design, oppressive trainors, too much stress, too much pressure, ‘prison-like’ condition, pay not worth the effort, etc.

well ... DUH. with a capital H.

as much as i'd like my sis to find alternative jobs, one that doesn't include getting harassed, hungry-slash-eating-badly, shafted for minuscule pay, i guess this is the reality over there. far be it for me to tut-tutting, since i'm here (and that's also another story) and they're there, but all i want is for her to find her niche in life (usually happiness comes along with being in that niche).

so, sis ... just persevere, and always think 'stepping stone'. you're still young. the highway of life is still ahead of you. don't worry, you will know when it's time to stay put.

biking hazard

the fascist pig is being investigated. investigated schmestigated. fire the asshole and plaster his face around the city! tarred and feathered! drawn and quartered!

update: the cop's name is Patrick Pogan and his badge and gun have been taken away from him. but he can still push cyclists anytime with his beautiful sexy hands. and what about his partner? they both arrested the victim who was allegedly 'blocking traffic' and 'assaulting a police officer'.

we demand that Hizzoner Mayor Bloomberg run this sorry excuse for a cop out of the Big Apple!

about time!

why did the Internet wait to be born till after i finished college?

and why did my college install airconditioners in the classrooms after i left, for that matter?

@#&&!$%@%@$!!!!

old school

welcome back, time bandit. this office is now is majority old school (emphasis on "old").


oh, wait, your former employers seem to be headed this way. they're packing serious heat.

sing

there's nothing like hearing your stroke-disabled father, singing Nat King Cole's Mona Lisa, from what remains of his memory, live over a faulty internet line, from over 10,000 miles away.

i feel the crush in my mother's heart as she bravely encourages him to sing.

and i feel happy that he does get through the song.



here's the one song i always felt i could sing to him, although the lyrics may not always apply, and i definitely would not be able to do it justice:


The highlands and the lowlands are the routes my father knows,
the holidays at Oban and the towns around Montrose,
but even as he sleeps, they're loading bombs into the hills,
and the waters in the lochs can run deep, but never still.

I've thought of having children, but I've gone and changed my mind.
It's hard enough to watch the news, let alone explain it to a child,
to cast your eye 'cross nature, over fields of rape and corn,
and tell him without flinching not to fear where he's been born.

Then someone sat me down last night, and I heard Caruso sing.
He's almost as good as Presley, and if I only do one thing,
I'll sing songs to my father, I'll sing songs to my child.
It's time to hold your loved ones while the chains are loose,
and the world runs wild.

But even as we speak, they're loading bombs onto a white train.
How can we afford to ever sleep, so sound again.

"The Night I Heard Caruso Sing"
Everything But the Girl


go and love your parents, before they pass on without you letting them know.

druggy druggy

last Friday, Brooklyn cops swooped into my street and raided two notorious houses, resulting in arrests and general glee among my neighbors. had I known, I should have taken the day off and you would be watching YouTube clips instead of my boring prose.


these dens of iniquity (not obvious from the facade) housed what I called the "PBA" - the Puting Basura Association; in other words, white trash who were usually drunk, loud, belligerent, and generally not very nice neighbors. as i have learned, community activists have been pestering the police and local politicians for years to do something about them, and it turns out dealing and using dope is also part of their repertoire.

here's more details from the sharp eyes of the Brooklyn Eagle and the Bay Ridge Rover.

a tenant in my building who delivered the news to us after work wryly said, "now we have nothing to talk about."

my street still has a mobile truck stationed, raising the thoughts that the arrested felons may be out on bail soon, or they will be supplanted by others.



well, it will at least be quiet for awhile, especially for those who live just beside these houses.

should i throw tomatoes at her?

i have to find ones with the salmonella, no doubt.


our President goes on a junket while the country just finished another round with a typhoon.

... jetted off to San Francisco en route to Washington and eventually, New York, with the objectives of her trip still up in the air. Meetings with US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice (widely whispered to be no fan of the President) and with candidate Barack Obama ... have not been confirmed.

The horde of congressmen and the two token senators, the 10 Cabinet members and the President's own family will probably spend their time doing other things. The First Family, for one, will want to know how their San Francisco properties are doing. We can be confident other Filipino officials will similarly be inclined. At least Speaker Prospero Nograles has been frank about the main purpose of his visit: to attend Manny Pacquiao's upcoming fight in Las Vegas.

ahhh, kaya pala!!!! goddammit, if i had cable TV, i'd probably see them in the audience during this fight.

once she arrives here in NYC, the Philippine Embassy will most likely be closed again, for this "momentous event" (happens at least once a year, right?).

do you know how lucky the Embassy staff are? because they get a lot of holidays - following both Filipino and American calendars. June 12 Philippine Independence Day? check. US Thanksgiving? check. Good Friday? check (note: Good Friday is not a religious holiday here, so for the last 7 years i spent 3 PM reflecting at my desk). didn't Gloria also declare a Ramadan holiday back home? does the embassy close on that day too?

can anyone tell me the total cost of this junket is? better yet, tell it to the victims of the typhoon.

case in point

this is a funny post, but in my experience, i did it myself. i get sick with all the dust coating the DVD boxes, so i decided to move them on to sleeves instead (you can find lots at x-tremegeek.com). even the CD cases went away (really, all my CDs have been ripped to digital format anyway, but i still kept them in library binders). the racks and towers were left for donation. but i'll admit boxed sets are nice to look at. that's why they survived the cut.

the view

i always love a delivery guy when he has something for me.



my effusive thanks to my bro, sis, mom and dad for sending this my way! dropping hints in a blog can be effective - i kid, i kid. salamat pong muli!!!

jules pwns jenny

here's a little story about my spring cleaning. deciding to remodel my teeny weeny apartment without spending much (in fact i even gave away stuff), much of the weekend was spent moving furniture around and throwing/giving away stuff. like the CD towers. and the weaker-than-weak stand fan. i'm still weighing on the magazine collection (yes, soon). which then brings us to a few VHS tapes i still keep around. i'm still not done with the cleaning so there's probably a few more lying around somewhere.



so to wit, i kept the blank ones and separated the following:

- Pulp Fiction (solid gold)
- The Usual Suspects (solid gold)
- Striking Distance (back when Horse Face was still a Pony)
- Jenny McCarthy: The Playboy Years (please don't ask)

so i took them all downstairs and left them by the lobby. i had a feeling that the first two would be taken first (this is kinda like the ongoing NFL draft). i mean who would not want those two landmark movies, one resurrecting John Travolta's career and the other putting Bryan Singer on the map? in my case, i already have them in digital format, so no problem. soon, they'll be storing movies inside nanochips in our brain, effectively ending the media storage furniture business.

an hour later, i discovered i was right!!

the Bruce Willis cheap thriller was still there, along with Jenny. poor Jenny.

does this mean nobody wants a piece of Jenny McCarthy? (right, they probably want her sister, Amy)

still a couple of hours later, Striking Distance was gone, and there still lay Ms. McCarthy, lonely and unwanted.

should we cook up a few possible reasons why this happened?

- the people in my apartment have a bit more class and know which side their bread is buttered
- those that bothered to notice the tapes were of the age where the prurient stuff no longer holds any fascination with them
- they already have better copies
- they've seen the damn thing
- they want Amy McCarthy

eventually, the last tape was gone from the foyer, which then leads me to think that i just witnessed a female version of Mr Irrelevant.

actually, we can also explain this phenomenon using the immortal law involving Kevin Bacon.

- Pulp Fiction stars Samuel Jackson as the iconic Jules Winnfield.
- Jackson worked with Kevin Spacey in The Negotiator and A Time to Kill.
- Spacey is the twist villain in The Usual Suspects (if i spoiled it for you, boooohooo; you should've seen this about a million times already).
- Bruce Willis appears in both Pulp Fiction and Striking Distance.
- Jenny McCarthy has not worked with any of the aforementioned actors.
- there is also no proof that she dated any of them in the past.
- neither has her current beau, Jim Carrey, dated or worked with them in the past.


i wonder which of my neighbors picked her tape? hmmmmmmm .....

green is in

congratulations, time bandit!!! i am now checking the menu for Tropic Zone.

touchdown

the Bigger Kahuna, Pope Benedict XVI (as opposed to the Big Kahuna, our St. Patrick's Church pastor in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, and the Biggest Kahuna, the Lord God Himself), has landed today on American soil, the first such visit since 9/11.


among the issues he will be tackling during his visit will be the molestation-via-priest scandal (i expect heads to roll, il papa), pumping up the slumbering and disappointed Catholic faithful, subtly slapping Dubya's fingers for the Iraq mess, perhaps meeting with his potential successors (McCain or Obama), and generally bring sexy back to the image of a Catholic leader (i kid, i kid).

the Pope will be in the Big Apple this Friday, and will celebrate Mass in Yankee Stadium on Sunday. sorry, those tickets ran out as early as last year.

at least just for one day, this dude below won't be the "Big Dog" in that arena. for you n00bs, that's NY Yankees boss George Steinbrenner.


but don't they kinda look the same? they both have German roots, they can be ornery, and they rule over an empire ...

am just saying!

(bless me, Father, for i have sinned ...)

life is a box of ...

scenes from an afternoon along Park Avenue South ...


my boyhood idol (even more than Captain America) - those who want to tag with me on the opening screening, raise your hands.



Will Eisner lives!!!!



i don't care what you say, this is not to be missed as well.


how come no one told me about this?? that being said - photochopped!!! Jenna doesn't look like that anymore.



i read recently in Time Magazine that Howard Schultz has made a comeback to reclaim former glory. even better, he's trying to keep the Sonics back in Seattle (yes please).



i started doodling and drawing my current apartment, and invariably ended up trying to redesign the Iron Man armor. it kept looking like the Halo soldiers though (the paper below had more scribbles by the time i finished).

in case you're wondering ...

there's a point to these pictures. i thought i'd never see them again. and that's because i thought i lost my camera.

you know that feeling when you lost something valuable - let's keep our discussions on the material side of things, ok? - that you can't relax, your mind keeps drifting to it every 3 seconds, and you keep reliving and replaying the sequence of events leading to its disappearance? i couldn't sleep at all last night, after discovering its not in the places i've looked. i frantically emailed my friend time bandit, who's currently incognito in Ecuador to foment dissent and actually put a hit on that pig Hugo Chavez when he visits Rafael Correa, and there was a slim chance the object of my search may be in the stuff i left him back in Jersey last Friday. but none of that made me calm down, not even two consecutive missions in Hitman: Contracts that left a lot of Chinese gangsters and policemen dead, and sent my mass murderer rating soaring.

and then this morning, half-asleep and gears still turning in my head, the light bulb i was waiting to turn on - turned on.

you know that feeling too, right?

i stood up, walked over to a jacket i forgot i wore last Friday ... and viola.

24 hours of feeling distraught. oboy.


whom the gods would destroy, they first make senile.

as the world turns

this one's still a secret, because we don't want certain people in our management to know until its ready to be said but ... here's my whisper to the trees in the digital forest ...

congratulations to my colleague, who finally received notice of the approval of her much-awaited tarjeta verde. it took 7 years but i guess that's still a good thing, considering much of what happened to honest people chasing a better life here in the United States since 9/11.

this colleague of mine has been an angel in disguise, having worked with her for the longest time, and being a friend much more than i can expect. i owe her a lot, from getting myself on steady ground when i came over, and to getting my head straight by brokering the idea of settling down given the intricate opportunities provided by the immigration process.

she's had every imaginable blessing showered on her, and she deserves every bit of it. i hope and pray the next one will be a healthy child, as we jokingly keep saying that our work has robbed us both of our youth, and we need the next few years to build our own complete families.

but this momentous event means she can already make the Great Escape ... which will leave this company in the lurch. i mean, hello, i can't take care of everything.

actually, i kind of want to see management's faces when they are faced with the spectre of or her actual leaving. they'll probably think we can still soldier on. pretty soon, when i also take my leave, our clients will be supported by ants or something.




tarjeta verde ... so close, yet so far away.

valor

for those who fell (April 1942)