You are in the past and you should not be here

Go here: http://subcritical-blah.blogspot.com/

international skeptics day

Orange-helmeted warrior. I only knew Purple. Never thought they could come in different colors.

This blog looks new. I've just looked at my new blog layout and it looks nothing like its past self. A change not necessarily for the better... but nevertheless it's still a change. 'Cause that's how things are, they change. Having constant natures which aren't exactly just that.

The layout is not only fancy, but revealing. Of the past, that is. Post titles and pictures are the first thing you see, surely a layout that invites judgments. And let me say this: I can't help but cringe at the sight of the poorly written titles. Ugh, and don't even get me started at my earlier posts.

Making me cringe then... well, yes. A sigh of relief. That writing style is behind me now. What I have to work on is a new writing style, one that is badly represented by years of past entries. But they're still there and I don't plan on putting them down and neither have I thought of moving to a new blog. Eh, however bad these posts are, they were once products of my writing and if you were to accept this blog, you are to accept everything that's good and bad about it.

* * * * *

Yada yada yada past posts are badly written. Who cares. October 13 was called the International Skeptics Day, and I had to ask myself: what am I skeptical about?

Then there came "Oh, a good idea for a blog post" thought. What first came into mind was religious claims. Too tiring to write. People's understanding of their own thoughts and behaviors came next. Just the thought tired me out. Human feelings, love, destiny, fate. Blah, mind sitting in the couch of boredom can't handle such big ideas. Sure, I had studies and data to back them up (yes, I did some research). But gee, I'm on break. That writing's saved for school.

Those were the big things, those which I did not want to dwell in so much. Why? 'Cause it's a never-ending loop of questions and assumptions. I have more things to do and I still have this thing called life.

But then there are the small things. One thing I've always been skeptical about are multivitamins. I mean, how do they really make us healthy? Anyone could go, sure, no-brainer: our bodies need vitamins and minerals for its daily functions and the food we take in usually don't provide us with the complete array of this fantastic shizznit. Take in those capsules and voila, the next thing you know you're shiny and good to go. Like Superman with his cape. Like Scooby-Doo with his Scooby Snax. Or like that little kid, having nothing but an orange helmet on, fights bacteria and viruses thrice the size of his head.

But I still don't get it. Neanderthals might've already had a concept of afterlife. I mean, they put flowers in their graves, right? But why weren't they able to come up with multivitamins... from crushed fruits and herbs, I suppose.... since artificial methods weren't available then?

Multivitamins. If they were that great, why don't we just all take multivitamins instead? No square meals, just that plain supercapsule.

My point here is, I'm not sure about if multivitamins could really make us healthier. Cockroaches have been here for millions of years and the last time I checked in our local pharmacy... nope, no cockroach multivitamins. And don't even get me started on antioxidants.

yes, still here

And she spoke words of wisdom

To the basement people, to the basement

Many surprises await you

Just a quick post, here. Been almost a year since I last wrote an update. I guess there had been way too many things that happened. School, orgs, and all that. Things I'd rather not say in public. Which, of course, just made you want to know more about what these things are.

Or maybe you just don't care and I know why. Why am I writing these posts anyway. Why maintain this blog. One (compound) word, self-entitlement. It's the age of self-entitlement, people. Facebook asks us What's in your mind? Twitter asks What's happening? And do you think people really give a damn about your answers? Doubt it. Do they care? Hell no. But it's here where the expecto patronus of these sites actually become weirdly shaped smoke figures: they make us think that we're important. That we're all fuckyeah or itsbitch.

There. I think I deserve a fuckyeahmarcfajardo website. Someday, I say. Someday. But it's not going to be itsmarcbitch.

I think I'm important. I think this blog's important. And I think you do care, after all -- There, that's why I felt the need to update this blog. Longer and fancier posts are for the coming days. Sembreak's on, so I'll have plenty of time to do that. Maybe.

Things to buy:

1. Good punctuation and grammar

2. A working sense of coherence

3. Proper line breaks

4. Humor (optional)

Minsan nga magta-Tagalog ako rito. Nase-stress ako e.

workin' and stressin' like a boss

No it's not this fancy. But do go on and read...

So my half of the office is empty. The other half is busy. I don't know if I should see that as an opportunity to laze around, dance along the halls of bumhood, or just sleep. Or maybe it's a really sad thing, to be grappling the fast disappearing reins of sanity, as no job nor task, not even the most menial one was left to me. But there's this one group task that I should be discussing with the others now. I dunno. Probably all the energy remaining in my soul left me, channeling theirselves to astral planes. Anyway, an office presentation. We are to do a hand mime to the song What a Wonderful World but what makes me uneasy about the whole idea is we don't know where to get the black light. I know, tragic. It's like dancing rave without glowsticks. Or PBnJ without J. Or without n. Then it'll be like PB sandwich only. Same as with the hand mime without black light. It'll be like PB. So witht that, I thought of having a skit instead, or maybe parody an ad. Sure, it sounds easy. But with the limited time to practice and stress-worn bodies and humor, people might not just get what we mean. And we'll sound like robots beep beep beep self-destructing in bleep bleep bleeeeeeeep. Or not. Maybe we'll sound just like normal human beings. Yes, only under abnormal doses of shame and humiliation. Like a gazillion times higher than what is normal. It'll be like social suicide. We'll be martyrs, burned at the stakes of public attention. We'll be like effin' Joans of Arc. But please, we don't need to be saints. Just let us get on with that group presentation. And get back to our happy lives. But for the moment, we are to practice in the wee hours of the morning and be like weeeee because neither of us had enough sleep. Fun fun, think about fun. Now you know what it is. Okay, I'm staring at my desk right now. Here's a book, one by Roberto Bolano. 2666. That novel with a dark heart, a project impossible for the hurried reader. They say it's the magnum opus of one of the greatest Argentine writers, one that challenges the limits of a novel and arises from it victorious And I share the same opinion. It'll take me months to read and decipher fully what this book says. From philosophers and lines to names and even their defining characteristics. Every section is its own story. This reminds me that at home, I still have four books which I have stopped reading halfway. There was Atomised by Houellebecq. Great take at the situation of the modern world, where everything humanity cherished slowly turns into elementary particles. Too bad that when I was already on the second half of the book, I had to take a very long break from reading. When I came back at it, I didn't know who the fuck was Christiane. Only to know she's been in the story for two, three chapters now. Screw this, I thought. I forgot what I've been reading and might as well set it aside then get back to it later. At home, I also left Atlas Shrugged. Interesting novel, though very lengthy. Reading it was like following a TV series. Good. Too bad the movie didn't do it justice. So they say. I think Atlas Shrugged needs a very creative mind to make its full potential shine. Have something substandard and you get a dialogue-heavy movie about businessmen doing business. Yes. Lastly, there is Le Monde de Sophie. No, I'm not putting that in French because I think it sounds classy. Or it'll make me sound sophisticated. Sound well-travelled. Because really, I have no means that can make me sound classy, sophisticated, or well-travelled. Maybe it's just bad acoustics. So that's how the book is really called. It is Gaarder's most well-known work written in French. And don't you start making those judgments again. Yes, to practice my French. Left with the third chapter for I found translating tedious. I'll get back to it if my French is good enough to dominate France itself. Or just good enough to pass an intermediate French class. Ok, since now we're in books. I am reminded how much I want to buy Danielewski. Experimental forms challenge me. Obviously, with a book written in French and a 1000+-page novel about businessmen, I haven't had enough challenges. So there's that, a novel written in cryptically configured font sizes and colors. And page placements. So there's him. I also want Coupland, Ishiguro, Murakami, Pamuk, Desai, and Rushdie. I might have forgotten a few more people but right now, I couldn't think of them. Or I just don't want to. Okay, on with my office computer. It sucks. Oh, I remember. I've listened to this French podcast earlier. Well, it was about transgenders in the Philippines and the topic's interesting. Anyway, what piqued my interest really more was they had most of the interviews in our university. And my Psych101 professor was in there. Nice! So people are walking past me and I don't know what to do. If I should pretend that I am my boss and work on self-given tasks. Or pretend that my boss really gave me tasks and I'll do it. Or just pretend working. Okay, the coast is clear. Moving on. I'm hungry.