Experiment One
Today is the day to end all days.
Today marks the triumph of the quest I resolutely embarked on many moons ago, the quest that has taken me to the edge of the earth and back. I have searched high and low and far and wide, never once stopping to rest, and today will go down in history as the day I found it.
A DVD copy of The Motorcycle Diaries. Haha.
I don't know why I even tried looking for a movie like The Motorcycle Diaries in CD stores at the mall, of course they'd have nothing but bigtime Hollywood trash. I thought for sure I'd find it in Quiapo but when I didn't, all hope began to wane. How can anything NOT be in Quiapo? It seemed to defy logic.
But then I found it. And right in Baguio, too. It was in a tiangge/CD/DVD shopping complex at the lower part of Session Road. I forgot the name of the place but it's right next to Dunkin' Donuts and across the street from Pines Studio. Great place. Great selection of movies. The lighting isn't bad either unlike most tiangges although it can get very hot in there in the afternoon. But hey, being baked alive is a small price to pay for all the rockingest CDs and DVDs on this side of the hemisphere.
So why all the trouble for a movie, you ask? Well, obviously you have not yet watched The Motorcycle Diaries, or else you'd be out hunting for a copy yourself. Aside from being an autobiographical account of this century's most shamelessly-plugged revolutionary (and my personal favorite) it stars the sinfully yummy Gael Garcia Bernal. That should be reason enough if your gender preference is male.
Just as I expected, it was no less fascinating than the first time I saw it. The scriptwriting was witty and not one bit trite, the cinematography breathtaking. The story was poignant-inspiring and Gael Garcia Bernal was perfection personified. Bravo, bravo.
Also, while watching the film a thought dawned on me about how Che Guevara is one of the reasons I scribble my name on desks, write blogs and love to have my picture taken. And then I fused this thought with something I've read by Margaret Atwood and came up with a pseudo-theory:
[Warning: Nigel Tufnel-esque philosophizing ahead]
See, many people (myself included) aspire to be what Che Guevara was, and I don't necessarily mean a redneck communist. At the back of every person's mind is the desire to accomplish great feats, "change the world" so to speak, and be someone great someday. But the sad truth is that most of us will not even come close. Most of us will never have our faces emblazoned on t-shirts and caps and coffee mugs that are to be sold to a generation that wouldn't really know who we are and what significant, history-altering feat we have accomplished but will buy all those merchandise anyway.
Most of us will only fade into obscurity after we die and the world will proceed as if we never even existed. Depressing, I know.
So what do we do instead? We immortalize ourselves. We carve our initials into wooden desks and write "so-and-so was here" on the doors of cubicles in public CRs. We create masterpieces. We write journals and blogs and take pictures of ourselves. Anything to prove that we exist -- that we once existed. Because contrary to what some of us might have heard, man's greatest fear is not to be lonely. It's to go unnoticed.
(Do take note of the difference between "lonely" and "unnoticed." The two, however, may not be mutually exclusive. Anyhoo. =P)
People like Che Guevara remind me how difficult it is to become great. You have to be a visionary. You have to have enough courage and determination to break free from the norm, from the dictates of a flawed society. You might even have to take a bullet for your principles.
So is that why I scribble my name on desks, write blogs and love to have my picture taken, because I've given up on my delusions of greatness? Hell, no. Remember what I said about how most people's faces will not find their way to a t-shirt? Given that, the blessed few whose faces will should ensure early on that they indeed have pictures to put on a t-shirt. I want my children and grandchildren to cash in on my fame, you know. Hahaha!
But kidding aside. I guess I immortalize myself for either reasons but also because I'm really just vain. And oh yeah, here's the most important and overlooked tip if you want to become someone great: don't plan it.
Damn, there goes my merchandise.
Today marks the triumph of the quest I resolutely embarked on many moons ago, the quest that has taken me to the edge of the earth and back. I have searched high and low and far and wide, never once stopping to rest, and today will go down in history as the day I found it.
A DVD copy of The Motorcycle Diaries. Haha.
I don't know why I even tried looking for a movie like The Motorcycle Diaries in CD stores at the mall, of course they'd have nothing but bigtime Hollywood trash. I thought for sure I'd find it in Quiapo but when I didn't, all hope began to wane. How can anything NOT be in Quiapo? It seemed to defy logic.
But then I found it. And right in Baguio, too. It was in a tiangge/CD/DVD shopping complex at the lower part of Session Road. I forgot the name of the place but it's right next to Dunkin' Donuts and across the street from Pines Studio. Great place. Great selection of movies. The lighting isn't bad either unlike most tiangges although it can get very hot in there in the afternoon. But hey, being baked alive is a small price to pay for all the rockingest CDs and DVDs on this side of the hemisphere.
So why all the trouble for a movie, you ask? Well, obviously you have not yet watched The Motorcycle Diaries, or else you'd be out hunting for a copy yourself. Aside from being an autobiographical account of this century's most shamelessly-plugged revolutionary (and my personal favorite) it stars the sinfully yummy Gael Garcia Bernal. That should be reason enough if your gender preference is male.
Just as I expected, it was no less fascinating than the first time I saw it. The scriptwriting was witty and not one bit trite, the cinematography breathtaking. The story was poignant-inspiring and Gael Garcia Bernal was perfection personified. Bravo, bravo.
Also, while watching the film a thought dawned on me about how Che Guevara is one of the reasons I scribble my name on desks, write blogs and love to have my picture taken. And then I fused this thought with something I've read by Margaret Atwood and came up with a pseudo-theory:
[Warning: Nigel Tufnel-esque philosophizing ahead]
See, many people (myself included) aspire to be what Che Guevara was, and I don't necessarily mean a redneck communist. At the back of every person's mind is the desire to accomplish great feats, "change the world" so to speak, and be someone great someday. But the sad truth is that most of us will not even come close. Most of us will never have our faces emblazoned on t-shirts and caps and coffee mugs that are to be sold to a generation that wouldn't really know who we are and what significant, history-altering feat we have accomplished but will buy all those merchandise anyway.
Most of us will only fade into obscurity after we die and the world will proceed as if we never even existed. Depressing, I know.
So what do we do instead? We immortalize ourselves. We carve our initials into wooden desks and write "so-and-so was here" on the doors of cubicles in public CRs. We create masterpieces. We write journals and blogs and take pictures of ourselves. Anything to prove that we exist -- that we once existed. Because contrary to what some of us might have heard, man's greatest fear is not to be lonely. It's to go unnoticed.
(Do take note of the difference between "lonely" and "unnoticed." The two, however, may not be mutually exclusive. Anyhoo. =P)
People like Che Guevara remind me how difficult it is to become great. You have to be a visionary. You have to have enough courage and determination to break free from the norm, from the dictates of a flawed society. You might even have to take a bullet for your principles.
So is that why I scribble my name on desks, write blogs and love to have my picture taken, because I've given up on my delusions of greatness? Hell, no. Remember what I said about how most people's faces will not find their way to a t-shirt? Given that, the blessed few whose faces will should ensure early on that they indeed have pictures to put on a t-shirt. I want my children and grandchildren to cash in on my fame, you know. Hahaha!
But kidding aside. I guess I immortalize myself for either reasons but also because I'm really just vain. And oh yeah, here's the most important and overlooked tip if you want to become someone great: don't plan it.
Damn, there goes my merchandise.
posted by loffy at
12:27 AM
