Hi, I’m a Mac.
While I and my family were in Manila last week for my registration at UP Diliman, my dad bought me my “Congratulations for passing the UPCAT” gift in the form of the high-end model of the latest-generation 13″ Macbook Pro, which I have named Jamby, after the failed presidential aspirant. You see, Jamby’s real name is Maria Ana Consuelo—MAC. Also, like its namesake, my new computer has some serious balls.
I’m happy to say that I have more or less regained my appetite for reading, prodded as I am by the rotating brownouts that give me five hours away from the computer everyday. I’ve been buying issues of TIME magazine regularly now, although I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the fact since I essentially kill trees with every issue I buy. (I would subscribe to the online version of the magazine, but apparently they don’t offer a Zinio-like e-mag service, which they really should.)
Someone left a prototype of Apple’s next-gen iPhone disguised as a 3GS in a Redwood City bar. It was only a matter of time before the device wound up in some tech site’s hands—in this case, Gizmodo’s.
Look at it, people. It’s absolutely hideous. If this is how Jobs and gang want the future of mobile phones to look, I’m not so sure I want them to keep leading.
Another political post by me is ready for your derision:
While my family and I were eating at Kan-anan By The Sea in Talisayan, Misamis Oriental, on our way home from Cagayan de Oro, we found this flyer for the Noynoy Aquino campaign.
The flyer presents six reasons why Noynoy and Mar should be our next president and vice president. Let’s dissect it, just for fun! I will quote each talking point then offer commentary. (You can offer your own opinions, too—it’s called the Comments section for a reason.) I will quote everything verbatim, exactly as it is written on the flyer. If anyone’s interested the flyer says “Donated by: Andrew Tan and Carlos Pedrosa”.
As we watched the raindrops pelt the ground, one of the kids started playing in the rain. Pretty soon I was emptying my pockets and taking off my watch.
I didn’t expect the rain to fall. I had brought neither a change of clothes nor a towel.
I ventured into the open and, for the first time in a very long time, played in the rain.
In the other week’s episode All Songs Considered, guest DJ Jonsi played a recording done in the 20th century by Alessandro Moreschi. Moreschi was a castrato—The Last Castrato, in fact. Castrati were boys who got their balls cut off during…
To break my long-standing silence on this year’s colorful elections, a post on my deserted politics blog:
I’ve heard Noynoy’s supporters say that he cannot do anything about his identity being attached to his parents’, that Cory and Ninoy’s shadow is just too big for Noynoy to step out of. I say that while that may be true, it is also true that Noynoy can and should make the case that he is a competent leader on his own, that he can make his own decisions and his own name, that he has the capacity to effect such massive change that his children will one day find his name worthy enough to use in their campaigns, too. Noy has to say, “I am Noynoy Aquino. My dad, Ninoy Aquino, died for this country. f it wasn’t for my mom, Cory, we wouldn’t have democracy. But that should not matter in your decision to vote for me. I am Noynoy Aquino. As a senator, I’ve done this and that, and as president I believe we will be able to do this and that, through these and those means. That is why you should vote for me.”
Read the whole thing here; my apologies in advance.
Let’s see: the campaign is in its final weeks, Gibo has stepped down as chairman of the party of which he is the standard bearer, his (now former) partymate Chavit is backing Villar (and taking the north with him), and he’s behind Erap—yes, Erap, as in the actor-turned-politico we forced from Malacañang nine years ago—in the polls.
Yep, the future looks bright.
I’ve found a new endeavor to busy myself with for this summer (aside from preparing myself for college): mastering the Dvorak keyboard.
The Dvorak layout was designed with speed in mind. It minimizes the distance a typist’s fingers need to travel and reduces the risk of repetitive strain injuries.
I was seated in the front seat of a jeepney today on my regular noontime commute. We were in the rightmost lane, waiting for the green light at an intersection. Suddenly a foreigner pulled up beside us and asked, “Hey, can you read?” He pointed at and read aloud a sign that said “Right lane must turn right”. “Next time, OK?” he warned before speeding off.
