Ramon Bong Revilla Jr Captured by Bad Guys

The bad guys have managed to capture Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. They tied up his arms then they tied him to a chair. They beat him up several times but he was just too strong mentally. They couldn’t get the information they wanted from him. They asked him all sorts of questions like where the money is, where the girl they have been looking for is, but he would just reply with something witty and insulting at the same time. Then he started talking about how he’s going to kill them all one by one. It was a long boring harangue, completely unbecoming of a main protagonist. The bad guys got bored with this so they gagged him with a dirty piece of rag then left him alone in the dark.

In the darkness of the room, Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. thought about the leading lady. She is a mestiza, the daughter of an American businessman father and a Filipina mother. Somehow due to sad circumstances, they had to leave their cushy life in the US and move into the Philippines, in the province. It seems her father was involved in some scheme that went awry, and the problem was that the failed scheme was on borrowed money. The creditors then went after him. Somehow they managed to hide for years in the province. She finished high school and college. She became a kindergarten teacher. The students and her co-workers loved her. She loved eating bananacue after teaching, and it was there in the bananacue stand that they met.

She told him to fuck off. “I’m eating here,” she said.

But Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. was persistent. He sent her flowers through her students. He thought it was cute. She thought it was stupid. He sent her chocolates. She thought it was a waste of money, and could you please stop using my students to do stupid shit for you.

Ramon Bong Revilla Jr.’s friends in the police station commiserated, and they went out one night to drink and sing the karaoke. But then they had an altercation with the guys next to them in the beer house. Shots were fired, punches thrown. In the end, ten people died. Five police, five non-police. The death of several of his ka-barkadas made Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. mopey for a bit. In the shooting range, he’s not the number one sharpshooter anymore. His temper became shorter and he started showing up to the police station disheveled and smelling of hard liquor.

Maybe that’s why the bad guys captured Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. Besides no longer caring about being the number one sharpshooter in the precinct, he also no longer took care of his health. He stopped lifting weights, he began eating more salty and sweet food. He stopped combing his hair and brushing his teeth. Being single and living alone, with not even a pet for company, only the bright screen of his massive LCD TV, he just lapsed into this dark mental state. In six month’s time, he managed to gain five kilograms. No one was there to help him. Not the girl he loves, not his police chief, not the local priest who was his high school buddy.

One of the bad guys enters the room. He turns on the lights. He removes the gag and starts spoon-feeding Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. The bad guy’s name is Jeric. He has just graduated from high school. He is working as a houseboy in the kidnapping house of the bad guys. The pay isn’t bad and the work isn’t that hard. He has day-offs during Sundays. He sends the money he earns to his parents in the province. Last night he wrote to his mother: Mother I am alright, please do not worry about me. How are my younger brothers and sisters? How is our beloved dog Bantay and our beloved carabao Lando? I hope you are all in the best of health. I hope father has stopped drinking Tanduay so much. I worry for his health. Work has been okay. I will be sending money next week. Your beloved son, Jeric.

After writing, he folded the yellowpaper so that it would fit into an envelope. He placed it in one of the drawers of his study table. After praying, he then went to sleep.

This latest person his bosses have brought to the house seems familiar to Jeric. Has he seen him somewhere? Maybe he’s somebody famous? He is eating a lot though, and Jeric could barely keep up spooning food into the person’s mouth. Jeric was taught how to cook by his mother who runs a small eatery back home in the province. As a young boy he was always at his mother’s side. So much so that the children his age called him names like ‘gay’ or ‘faggot’ and other similar hurtful words. Oftentimes he would come home crying and covered in bruises. His mother would then comfort him and tell him that those other children are just envious of how conscientious, kind and loving he is.

All the time that he’s being fed by Jeric, Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. has been biding his time. He has earlier managed to free his hands. It is a testament to how careless this bad guy is that he did not check his restraints, he thinks to himself. After having had his fill he decides to act.

Jeric finishes spoon-feeding Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. As he turns around to proceed to the kitchen to then wash the dishes, Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. wraps his huge powerful hands around Jeric’s neck. Jeric struggles, he tries to breathe, he tries to prise the hands of Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. but fails. His last thoughts were about home and his mother, his younger siblings and his drunkard father.

His feet still tied to the chair’s legs, Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. has fallen over the dead body of Jeric. The exertion has left him covered in sweat. He is breathing heavily. He looks at the bad guy he has just killed and smiles. One down several more to go, he says to himself. Just then a couple of guards enter the room. Unable to free his legs in time, Ramon Bong Revilla Jr. is beaten into a hamburger meat consistency and is then left unconscious with the body of Jeric in the dark room.

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Laptop Review: Lenovo Ideapad 100S 14IBR 80R9002KMJ

— Lenovo Ideapad 100S 14IBR 80R9002KMJ —


128 GB SSD

CPU: Intel Celeron CPU N3050 @ 2.16GHz

GPU: Mesa DRI Intel(R) HD Graphics (Cherryview)

Price: 16,995 PHP (364.118 USD)

Location: Philippines

Date purchased: July 2016

— review —

It’s made of plastic. It’s thin and light. It’s colored red. Screen is 14 inch HD. Plays 720p and 1080p videos great.

On Windows, the battery, with simple usage of browsing and word processing and watching movies etc. came to around four hours.

Speakers are located at the bottom front of the laptop. It’s not bad, but I wouldn’t listen to music for pleasure with it. For basic listening purposes, it’s fine. It’s loud, voices come out clear.

Ports: one HDMI, three USB ports, one audio output.

It has an SSD, but only 128 Gigs. But it’s more than enough for my needs. This is my very first SSD laptop, so very excited and real satisfied with the performance. It’s really fast.

I am not a fan of the keyboard. It’s a chiclet/island-type, flexes a bit in the middle when you type too hard and too fast. Which is why I’m typing this using a USB Keyboard (some old A4 tech I’ve had for four or more years).

Laptop came with Windows 10. Had Kingsoft instead of Microsoft Office in it. Lots of pre-installed unnecessary software. Windows 10 used a lot of data. Even with the tweaks and configurations I followed from googled articles and how-to’s, I still couldn’t stop it using so much. Used the laptop for two weeks before deciding to dual-boot with Linux.

I used a Live CD to test Linux in it. Everything worked fine except for the wifi which I learned I had to download some more stuff for it to work.

I disabled the UEFI and enabled Legacy settings in the BIOS.

When I finally decided to install, the installer wouldn’t ‘see’ the already installed Windows OS. Mulled this over for three days, until the shittiness of the Windows OS experience propelled me to just single-boot Linux Mint.

Installation was fast. Curiously, when the installed Linux Mint OS booted up, wifi worked out of the box.

Installed Linux Mint Sarah with Mate as Desktop Environment in it, and it is the fastest laptop I’ve used so far. 1080p videos do not lag, Chromium can open like fifteen or so tabs before slowing down. Libreoffice loads in a snap.

Tried Cinnamon in it, but it feels sluggish compared to Mate.

— conclusion —

Overall very satisfied with this laptop. I was surprised at how cheap it was for its specs (128 Gigs SSD, 4 Gigs RAM). I think I lucked out when I came upon this. Laptops here (Philippines) that have the same specs cost around twice or three times as much.

— references —





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Post-election days 2016

Post-election days were a bit of a letdown. The verbal pyrotechnics of the New President were just that exactly. Lots of barks, some bite. The bites were a bit interesting though. Lots of news now of drug pushers surrendering themselves to the authorities for fear of being actually shot by citizens. Or is it because they’re actually pro-Duterte? How does that even happen. Maybe these are not your ordinary criminals, maybe they are just citizens albeit rowdy scrappy ones who are sick and tired of the hacendado class of which Noynoy Aquino and his chosen one Mar Roxas are prime examples.

Local government officials seem to be caught up in this spirit of ‘cleaning up’ of criminal elements, albeit the ‘lowly’ types. You see these suspects, because they are still actually to be tried in a court of law, being humiliated by having to parade in the town center in full view of people. Placards and signs they carry highlight their transgressions. There was that one guy who was caught shoplifting, and as part of his punishment, he was made by the mayor to walk in the middle of the market and loudly proclaim that he is a thief.

What is most exciting in my opinion is the possibility of a saner government response to the decades-long Communist rebellion. Duterte is rational, even warm towards leftist figures. He just appointed several as heads of crucial government agencies. The question now, if an agreement does happen between the leftist authorities and the government, is whether the rank and file cadres will follow through with it. The top and the bottom of the hierarchy could have different opinions. Worst case scenario is that a splinter group, or splinter groups, would emerge.

The bourgeois character of the Presidency does still emerge. For all his warmness towards the Left, Duterte is very much friendly towards the Marcos Clan. Which isn’t really surprising considering both belong to the same economic and political group. These families move within the same circles, they interact, they know each other.

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I woke up to pain

I woke up to pain. My right pointing finger was slightly swollen and red. There looked like a bite or scratch mark of some sort. I puzzled over this for a bit, but could not recall what exactly happened. So I got out of bed and went on with my day.

I returned home from the market. I slowly put the things I bought to their proper places. The cat was being annoying, blocking my path while walking. So I grabbed that little adorable monster bastard by the scruff of his neck and placed him outside the kitchen door. After having completed these tasks, I stood frozen in the hallway on the way to my room. I could not remember whether I have fed the dog or not. This really bothered me, and so for several minutes I just stood there.

Then one detail I dredged up from my rusting memory chamber clarified things. I remember looking at the dog’s water bowl and it was bright. Meaning, it was morning when I fed the dog, meaning that I indeed have fed the dog that morning. So I unfroze and continued to my room to rest for a bit. I haven’t had a decent amount of sleep last night, and so this must be the reason why I’m functioning more sub-optimal than usual.

While lying down, and looking at things on the internet. I remembered what happened with my finger. Last night while I was sleeping, I woke into half-consciousness because I was uncomfortable. It turned out I slept on my right hand and I couldn’t feel it, it was numb. So in a somewhat panicky state, my half-asleep brain decided that the right thing to do is to bite onto that hand to kill the numbness.

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The Twins Have Gone Away

He sits and tries to remember. Twenty years ago their names were carved onto one of the perimeter walls of the school. They were special, the first ever class in that school. Now, sitting there, in a cafe across the street where the school is, he could barely make out the names. Cracks spread like roots, the tendrils merging with the letters. He wonders where they are now, the owners of these names.

The store he frequents since coming back in his hometown, a pair of female twins about his age minding it. They look so familiar. He has suspicions, that these were the twins he knew all those years ago. Their names are still there on the wall with his. But he had been gone for so long, these people are basically strangers now. One day, he no longer sees them in the store. The new shopkeeper is mean-looking and appears to be incapable of smiling.

It would be so awkward. What would they talk about anyway. Hey, do you remember this or that? But they were only six years old then, twenty or so years ago. Why this desire to re-establish a connection that was barely even there before?

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Memories of the Broken-Hearted Girl 1

Memories of the Broken-Hearted Girl 1

In the darkness of my room, I think about the girl. The girl died of a broken heart, literally. She was born with a heart defect. We were classmates in our third year of high school. Why do I think of her? Is it the boredom?

I’ve been feeling disconnected with the world recently. People I’ve known most of my life don’t seem to be what they are anymore. You think you know a person, but not really. Maybe I’m just seeing something I haven’t seen before, something that’s always been there, a hidden aspect. And all those feelings and perceptions built on that false understanding comes tumbling down.

The girl liked to read and write. We were in the high school paper together. She wrote Feature. I wrote News, Editorial and Sports. We were sent to journalism contests against other high schools in the city, and then the province. We never really reached the national level. I was labeled as the most silent in our class. But this girl, she was more silent than me. Short hair, pale, petite. I will always picture her in her high school uniform forever.

I wanted to say to her, look how similar we are. We both love to read. We both love to write. We both are recognized in this high school for our writing skills. The ability to string words together, to line up sentences into paragraphs, to write a story. But all these were just in my head. I was shy and silent, as shy and silent as she was. Most of what passed for conversation between us were two or three-sentence exchanges. Glances, wordless gestures. It’s as if all of the words we could have exchanged we poured into the pages.

Well, I did not finish high school. I dropped out, and wandered the world for a bit, ‘walking the earth’ in Eastern Martial Arts parlance. I trudged valleys and mountains and meditated under the shade of giant trees. When I came out of that episode of my life, I found myself enrolled in another high school to repeat the final year, and all of my previous classmates have gone on to college.

Year pass, the internet is invented, then websites, then social networking websites. I was then in college, I remember I was in the lobby of the dormitory, taking advantage of the lightning-fast internet connection of the University. It was the weekend and I had no classes. Following my habit, I spent the day watching funny videos of animals, mostly cats. Out of the blue, I remembered the girl.

. . .


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Blank Sheet of Paper

Some writer once said that writing is easy: all it is is staring at a blank sheet of paper and waiting for drops of blood to form on your forehead. Writing has never come easy for me. At least the true heartborn writing I long for. This is the nth time I am writing something like this. What do I call this, this writing about being unable to write. This navel-gazing. At least it puts the black on the white page. It’s easier if you use a large and bold font. One sentence at a time, as Stephen King, wrote. I should maybe begin by talking about what’s bothering me now, what has been holding my attention these past few months and weeks.

It’s politics. As usual. The National Elections is only now just a week away. There’s this quote about how the most antagonistic folks are those who once truly believed. Well I found myself in this position with regards to this one candidate. He just seemed different at that time. But now a lot of information are coming out. And they ain’t good. It basically paints him as the same, if not worse than the other candidates he is in competition with for the Throne of the Land. Houses and properties and millions, most undeclared. Gifts and favors from powerful friends. All that boring commonplace traditional politico behavior.

But what really turned me off, what made me jump off the bandwagon earlier than most is the inability of this candidate to communicate straight. He always has to act all tough on this and that, always talking about enemies and evil people. The man cannot express himself well. That’s all that I really wanted – to hear from him all those things that I had mostly agreed with. He failed miserably in that regard. And so I said yep that’s it, this guy is not someone that I should support.

Why am I doing this political analyzing anyway when I don’t even vote? I haven’t ever voted in my life. I did not register and have my data collected and whatnot. My early experience of authority and the dynamics of politicking at the school level totally soured me to the system. It’s just so contrived and manipulative. Is not having ever voted a matter of pride for me? Probably. See me pure and white as the lotus flower.

This is what I consider shit writing. What I really wanted to write was fiction. I had this idea earlier of a boy growing up in a household of metalhead parents. He develops a quirk where he starts headbanging once he hears a metal song. Only stops this curious behavior once the song is over. At the beginning, his badass parents are all about it. They encouraged it, was really glad that their son is growing up right in the proper metalhead manner. But then it becomes a condition. The family is walking someplace and whenever a familiar song plays he cannot stop banging his head. Even when they are past beyond hearing range of the song, it doesn’t matter. He has heard so many of these songs that it just plays on in his head. It got to the point that there doesn’t even have to be a trigger. He just starts headbanging and won’t stop for three or four minutes. Or longer if it’s certain songs from Rainbow, Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin playing in his head. That’s the basic crisis so far. I’m thinking something happens to the parents’ belief in heavy metal. Maybe they’d try listening to softer music like synth-pop or shoegaze or something.

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