Friday, October 25, 2013

Hey society, I have something to say!

The face.
That’s my face when my Mom answered ‘I don’t know’ to Ninang's question ‘Does she have a boyfriend?’ Mom knows pretty well that I’m a single lady (so put your hands up!) so why would she say that?

Let’s count the reasons why.

(1)  The double standard that high school teenagers must not have a boyfriend YET, but in college they SHOULD have one.


(2)  A daughter without a boyfriend is not pretty. 


(3)  A good person would have someone to love her. You don’t have a lover? You must be a psychopath or something. Either that or you're ugly and fat. (I have to say, I scored high here.)


The amazing thing is, ladies are also pressured to have husbands before they turn 30. Beyond that and you have a slim chance of ever finding the love of your life. So my question is: why? Why is society so eager to pair up so-called soulmates to the point that some people settle?

Let’s count the reasons why.

(1)  Love is magical, when you find that someone you realize how incomplete you were from the beginning even when you’re pretty sure you were born with perfect limbs.


(2)  It’s scary to live alone from here on out.


(3)  You live as the loser who still resides with his/her parents and a dozen of cats without a hubby/wifey (Is that a thing? The wifey? I got red lines there).


(4)  According to romantic comedies and misinterpreted fairy tales, happily-ever-afters consist of kisses and weddings.


(5)  Kids are cute.


(6)  Species survival.

The last two I believe are the most logical reasons. The list is not exhaustive: go blame my grey matter and the fact that I experience society second-hand most of the time.

I just hate it. Even my father, after realizing that I can’t fry aubergine (Let me play pretend. Stop judging.) without running away from fright had this to say: I pity your husband. That’s also what he says whenever I can’t breathe without making whistling noises and inhaling in a pathetic manner: I pity the man who’s going to take care of you for the rest of your life.

Seriously, it’s like we signed a contract with inexistent (whoops) cupid or something. As a communication student, may we please use the Critical Theory? Why is this thinking dominant over living alone that the single ones have to suffer the same mockery from relatives, friends, and even teachers over and over and over? Here's what I have to tell you society: stop telling me what to do! Gah!

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

City of Bones: Unveiling Skeletons in the Closet

First, the obligatory disclaimer: I am not a good writer as evidently presented by my prose herein. However, I've read enough books to distinguish one writing style from another. There's also the fact that the following paragraphs are plainly my opinion.

While searching for a new book obsession, I came across this series from Goodreads. The title was inviting and it was on the popular section together with Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and freaking Twilight. It's called the Mortal Instruments. I got a copy of the second until the fourth instalments but not the first. Unbelievable, isn't it? I had almost forgotten about the series until I visited my phone's E-books folder. To keep the story short, I had just recently got a copy of the first book- the City of Bones.

The Book Cover. Taken from Wikipedia.

I read it with excitement. Here's another new world I'm entering! My impression was that the narration was not clear enough since I had to read the sentences twice to understand what was happening. But it was okay, I told myself, I just had to get used to the writing for a smooth flow and believable images in my head (Seriously, the book suggested rough images and metaphors and similes but you get used to it in time.)

Reading on, I started to hate the descriptions about unnecessary things. Clare, did you have to tell me this? Then stuff started heating up so I reminded my nosy self to go on. I couldn't help but think of Harry Potter, Twilight, and later on, Star Wars as I moved forward the storyline. On one hand, even though I hated Twilight I remembered not taking my eyes off its pages until I smelled, not unlike the way I read Harry Potter and Sophie Kinsella's chick lit. City of Bones in contrast, was tiring that I had to amuse myself with a movie about magic and dream on about the future before getting on the TASK to figure what happened next (Note: Reading becomes tiring when you begin to classify it as a task and not a pastime).

But it was forgivable enough. By the middle I started to read on continuously that I finished the City of Bones in two days. It made me laugh although everything about it was predictable. It made me tear up as Clary (protagonist) remembered Luke's (protagonist's father figure) part in her life. The rest was, EH.

I wasn't sure what to think of the book. It was average: as earlier implied, something I just had to finish. The world of Shadowhunters, demons, mundanes, werewolves, and vampires altogether could've been more exciting but the writer failed to present it to me in awesome ways as J.K. Rowling did. I researched on how people saw it and boy, those reviews made me laugh.

Research revealed that HP and City of Bones seem similar because it was originally a fan fiction by Cassandra Clare to the former. Some reviews listed the City of Bones characters paralleled with those from HP. They also saw it as combination of a variety of other movies and books weaved poorly by clumsy narratives and 'infodump.' Infodump is the term for when the writer becomes so excited to tell you of this fantasy world s/he invented and tells every information in the most inconvenient ways (Seriously, why did Jace define what demons are in front of a demon? Imagine yourself being robbed and the robber tells you, 'You! You're human, a four-legged mammal with brains and I am going to steal from you. Muhahaha!')

What is more disturbing is the fact that as Clare wrote her fan fiction for HP, she actually plagiarized a lot! She took four or five paragraphs from a book in 2001, only to have a disclaimer that practically says 'I was inspired by Wrong Novel Title written by Somebody Unimportant I don't Remember Her Name.' Here's the catch: As someone had argued, for her to have written word per word of the paragraphs she must've had the printed copy of the book herself as she wrote the HP fan fiction. So much for a journalist's professionalism. (Link here to the informative post about Clare's fan fiction plagiarism.)

I read more reviews of the book and the movie (Did I mention there was a movie? Yeah. There was a movie released last August this year.) than the links posted but who cares.

The movie poster. Taken from MRQE.


Here are the links to the reviews:

Movie Review
A review about the similarities of the fanfiction and City of Bones she didn't bother finishing it.
This review has awesome introduction. Seriously.

I saw the film. Honestly, I found it more entertaining than the book. It didn't religiously follow the sequence which pissed a lot of fans. It also had spoilers like Clary's powers and the potion Jocelyn, her mother, drank. Honestly, without those additional information I wouldn't be so interested to watch the sequel much more read the second installment.

It's amazing how I was more interested about the background of City of Bones than the story itself. The writer had some skeletons in her closet and it was presented in more colors than she did in her book but that's just my opinion.

Friday, October 18, 2013

An Eye-opening Experience

Honestly, I didn't like poems that much at all. For me they were broken narratives, broken phrases, and broken thoughts of the mind strewn by rhymes. The fault is not on the poems. They were beautiful but I was blind to them.

In my head poems mean reading more than twice the same sentence and still without understanding. There was this Literature class that got me into poems though, and since then I've become more appreciative of the genius minds of the poets.

Edgar Allan Poe. Image taken from
www.theguardian.com


Do you know Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe? We learn it from high school but I didn't fully understand it until I was in college, especially after learning about its theorized background story (Thanks to the movie The Raven, I became curious about this genius and his works). His The Raven is also a masterpiece, but even after reading it five times I still didn't fully understand it and had to do a research on it. Maya Angelou's Phenomenal Woman and Still I Rise are also empowering. Of course there are various more poems and poets like William Shakespeare, Robert Frost, and Pablo Neruda but I wouldn't pretend to be a poem critic. I remember reading Romeo and Juliet and losing my mind.

The thing is, poems are powerful especially when you have to read between the lines. At first you think it's about riding a bike and then a few lines later you realize it's about life. Other poems are also songs but those kind usually need no second look. Nonetheless, that shouldn’t disentitle them as masterpieces.

About my Literature class, we had a poem-making exercise. I was really troubled knowing I lacked the creative knack necessary for beautiful strings of words but heckI did my best. Still, the best part is that I’ve opened my eyes to this new world. An artful one.

Friday, October 11, 2013

Mom is my Yellow

The class was asked to think of our favorite color that would resonate our past or the present, and then write a poem about it. I thought of my yellow sarong, the one from Mom, and how bright it was.

The level of my creativity is lower than my grades so I'd rather not publish it here.

Essentially, it's about how my Mom is my yellow and how her whole person has been and always will be my sun. When the world was rude to me she was kind. She is flawed, yes, but for me I couldn't ask for more than what she gives.


My Sun and I.


I've been hearing rude comments about her. Those people who dare talk bad about her in front of me. It hurt me to the point that while I was telling this to Ash, I started to tear up.

I don't want to be like them. I tell my Mom what I think and she listens and all those badmouthed prejudiced people know nothing of her reasons because they don't tell her and she doesn't share.

And I remind myself to never be like them. I hope I'll never be like them.

What I hope for is to be bright to my family and the important people around me. It need not be the world. A few is enough. Even the sun can't light up the whole universe.