Tuesday, February 06, 2007

riot with balls

I was watching the local news’ reportage on events around the globe. The news about the soccer riot in Italy caught my eye. It seems like Italy may have seen the best of the game. Italy, of course, the 2006 FIFA World Cup champs, has recently been caught in a soccer scandal months before. Now, they may have seen the best of it, as a riot ensued between a game of two Italian teams causing the death of a police officer. A soccer official threatened to cancel games for quite a time.

See story here.

I continued to read Sophie’s Choice while my two young half-brothers were watching Atlantika, a local fantaserye (as what it’s called). Since we’re living in one cramped room, I often glance at the TV to see what’s happening. From what it’s called, you can easily guess it is largely a Filipino version of Atlantis: The Lost City.

Piranos (Paolo Contis) is beating the hell out of Aquano (Dingdong Dantes), but a fit of conscience occurred to him and offers Aquano a fair chance at their battle (believe me, it’s not like any battle you’ve seen). He lets Dingdong choose between his love Amaya (Iza Calzado) and her mom. On the other side of Atlantika, Katrina Halili and Jean Garcia were wailing because they have been captured by the Centurions and were awaiting their doom. (Don’t you wonder why damsels keep on wailing “bitiwan n’yo ako!” in unbelievable octaves when the fact remains that the abductors aren’t close to letting them go, and never in a thousand years?) The badass of a ruler, Barracud (Ariel Rivera) and his aliporeses are entering the portal to the new Atlantika signaling the old one’s destruction. It seems like everyone is set for cinematic grandeur only that it isn’t close to even the smell of it.

No comments:

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