Saturday, December 02, 2006

the new Green

I'm planning to stage (how grand a term isn't it?) a weeklong protest due to the recent injustice in the Philippine labor situation (go ahead have a great time laughin') by absenting for a week. I cannot even begin to fathom the graveness of this situation. I don't know if I'm going to play this one out, or how the situation itself will play out. I don't give an effin' shit. And by the way, our landlady hasn't knocked the doors yet.

*****

Now I remember where I've seen Eva Green. She was in this film by Bernardo Bertolucci called The Dreamers, where her character is sandwiched by a young American studying in London and her own French brother. I saw this in one of the film classes of Sir Bong Eliab back in college in the 'film room', where I used to sneak into and spend my lazy Saturday afternoon. I usually just watch outside with barely audible sound coz I was not really in his class list. Despite the darkness, I can very much hear the gasps and gawked at the shocked expressions of sex-starved students whose idea of art house cinema is still that of Y Tu Mama Tambien. Well, Dreamers have some resemblance to that only it was, well... shocking, for lack of an overstatement.
photo: googleimages

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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting