Glory

Despite the several ruckuses over the supposed fake, CG-ed fireworks during the opening, under-aged Chinese girls competing in the artistic gymnastics and even the shameless lip-synching, the games were fairly enjoyable and nothing quite short of remarkable. (I am enraged over the supposed lip-synching. The little girl who owned the voice was not only robbed of a worthy opportunity but she became a victim of a people beleaguered by an inferiority complex, a crush-US sentiment.)

I watched Wall-E during its opening night here last Wednesday so I stayed home over the weekends and yesterday (except Saturday evening) watching the games.

And gosh, did I already say that Phelps was a swimming god, god! He bagged his 8^th gold medal during the 4x100 relay during the last day at the Olympic pool, making him the greatest Olympian by far, outshining Mark Spitz, the Olympic swimmer who reaped 7 gold medals in one Olympic Games in 1972. Though the last round was a dead giveaway, Australia almost stole that coveted medal by a margin. Phelps did really great on the butterfly round, his specialty actually. And gosh, did he cry when that Special Citation was given to him. Meanwhile, an unknown Tunisian with a the first name of the Al Qaeda leader, Oussama Mallouli swam the Men 1500 m grabbing the gold from previous title holder Grant Hackett of Australia.

In one of the most enjoyable bouts over the weekend, Rafael Nadal, with his trademark facial contortion when he serves, once again proved he’s the best in the world. Nadal, in three straight rounds, beat Federico Gonzales of Chile who struggled every set and round over the Spanish who was the favourite to win the gold. Elena Dementieva, who remained composed throughout the match, won for Russia the gold in the women singles division over fellow Russian Dinara Safina. Another Russian, Zvonareva bagged the bronze.

As a kid, I have always been amazed of the Olympics. I used to browse through a collection of Olympics encyclopaedia we used to own as an added treat to the voluminous Colliers which was pawned ages ago. The Olympics series was tattered, forgotten, lost.

Track and Field was one interesting category for me for instance not only because of the excitement on who’s going to be the recent fastest man/woman on the planet, it also offers an array of sports, some of them date back to ancient Athens like the discus throw. This year, the steeplechase category was added which is quite similar to the hurdles except that all athletes are required to jump over a long, single hurdle plus some water obstacles.

I think T&F is officially named now as athletics and boy are the Jamaicans on fire! Fastest man and woman on the planet are courtesy of them Usain Bolt (a very apt name indeed) now holds the world record of 9.69 seconds. Ethiopia, a famished country in Africa has gold and silver to the Men 1500 m. A relatively unknown country Cameroon also has gold in athletics.

The winning athletes are ecstatic during the victory ceremonies, some teary-eyed while their national anthems are being played, donning their precious medals and clutching their simple bouquets, waving to their fans and posing for the cameras. Glorious moments.

Meanwhile in the Philippines, Mindanao is confronted with beleaguered MILF troops who wreaked havoc over the past days on some areas leaving a number of civilians dead and hundreds of evacuees. Caught on tape is the President, furious at the unpreparedness of her staff on an abrupt press briefing. Despite some supposed teleprompter mishaps, she managed to say that amidst the atrocities, “we’re all in this together” in the quest for peace. The whole country now beholds.

Photos thru the 2008 Beijing Olympics site courtesy of: (1) Cameron Spencer/Getty Images; (2) Vladimir Rys/Bongarts/Getty Images; (3) Clive Brunskill/Getty Images

beating the crap out

Wazzup dawgs? In the movie Harsh Times, the reference dawg has been so overused that I'd swear in every script-page there are about at least 10 of it. The characters punctuate their every sentence with it. They breathe, eat, and kill with the word. It gets nauseating at times. The lingo is excused with the fact that the film's setting is in the locales of Southern California, which is, often times depicted in television and movies, as the 'dawg' haven. This is where crack is staple as food. This is where you never dismiss kids as cutesy-cutesy or they'll beat up your sorry ass. The film Havoc, written by Stephen Gaghan, and Anne Hathaway's springboard into the 'bold' unknown, also comes into mind when talking about kids gone haywire. The first thing that came to mind having mentioned it, is Bijou Phillips getting sandwiched by sex-starved, crack-snorting Latinos. It was kind of disturbing that if the filmmakers intent was to show that disturbance, they achieved it in that scene. Larry Clark also tackles profusely on the subject with films like Kids, Bully and recently Wassup Rockers. Though I am yet to see Kids and Rockers, they pretty much border on the same subject matter. You will never imagine the kids' penchant for violence until you've seen them beat up, smoke and fuck the way adults do. Good grief.


While Clark's films may never achieve the mainstream Hollywood, a recent film on the subject matter which was just released the other week did. It's called Alpha Dog directed by Nick Cassavetes, and also known as Justin Timberlake's venture into acting. The film is based on a homicide case in SoCal. The unfortunate homeboy Zach is played by Anton Yelchin who looks like Elijah Wood minus five years. You get a scene of Sharon Stone slapping the hell out of his son or Bruce Willis trying to curb his murderer of a son, and it makes you think that these kids' parents are either unsuspecting, pathetic, tolerating or hysterical. It leaves you no room to see the characters as other than what the filmmakers what them to be, too.

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Aside from Alpha Dog, I watched two other period films: The Painted Veil (with my favorite actress Naomi Watts in it), an adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham's novel about 1920s China and the Westerners venture into the Far East, and The Good German, a Steven Soderbergh project, which I think is far too ambitious. I can't even remember the details because the film's story and characters are seemingly lost in Tobey Maguire's humping. I can't think of nothing but Spiderman when I see him, not even traces of Pleasantville, Wonder Boys and The Cider House Rules.

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Roger Federer is a fuckin' tennis god. I'm beginning to think he's drinking some kind of supernatural energy drink. When the two-hour Australian Open Champs (male single division) in Melbourne came to an end, with 7-6; 6-4; 6-4, he just waved at the screaming crowd, walked over to his bench, and smiled profusely at the camera like he's into some presscon and not a tennis game. While on the other side, Fernando Gonzales looked like he's been to a decathlon. He was obviously tired and burned out. Throughout the entire game, he looks like a friggin' gladiator ready to slay a lion. Lesson for him: never throw your racket in the midst of failed attempt to beat the crap out of your opponent. Especially if the racket gets broken. It's a bad omen.



photocourtesy of australianopen.com