Superhero, Somewhat, Kind Of, Sort Of
By : Iris P. Concepcion

It was one scorching afternoon when I took this mask from a kid who, a day ago, was hit by a running motorcycle. She complained of aches and wanted to do some gym work after.

I thought this avatar-friendly gadget saved her. I tried it on and had my nose tweaked longer than its usual size.

What does this say about me? I like my eyes peeking through the hole like some mortal kombat warrior, hawk-eyed and preparing for flight. The look promised a conquered universe.

The reality is: I simply wanted to buy some snacks across a store from my house. I got my wish and looked golden eating with this mask on, outmoding the fire eater in X-Men.

A superhero on a blink. The mask costs less than $1 cent. But in this blog, it appears priceless. :-)

Shoes and The Beatles
By: Iris P. Concepcion

There's that shoe, suspended, with my foot in it. And my favorite band artworked superbly.

I am exactly finding my sentences back to their groove again. Great to see friends from way back.

Iris on My Own Shirt
By Iris P.Concepcion

Additional Shots
By: Iris P. Concepcion

My bookshelf. See the titles.They are sleeping atop each other. Amis,Mailer,Jong. Updike occupies one line, beside Roth (the Eric Roth tip was exceptional---Only Zuckermann and Rabbit and myself know the ties that bind this particular thread). The glass cracked, that is the update on my bookshelf.

The Eliot book is the best gift I received last year.I reread this like I am Energizer Bunny and feels euphoric just seeing,as opposed to glaring, the pencilled annotations.

The ducks are truly pretty. They do not have a leader so they walked in different directions. But in that arrowless world of theirs,they seemed happy being ducks, with a ricefield and great sky as their witnessing background. I was doing my morning exercise and saw these little swimming flock going on board the land. Cute.

That's a sandwich. Egg sandwich. I was chewing and took its last breath, before it went down my mouth. Brain's gotta love the caption.

Plateing,being,a painting on a plate. This is my plate and it really looks like a Christmas card.

Storied Shots
By: Iris P.Concepcion

Match the pictures below.

I like the idea of a clown as an invitation to a ministry. This was taken beside a jeepney terminal. The time I took this shot, there was a bottle of shioktong at the entrance of the edifice,a forlorn bottle standing quiantly. I love the rules as is. Simple,direct,totally fresh,not to mention,enthralling.

The Apple Pie pic is epical, historical. Mike White's character politely ate a double cheese burger and out of my outlandish panic,I took this shot from my disarrayed eating tray as some form of my convenient unpanic button. I gobbled the contents and gained a story. I will always remember this as a skeletal fixture, the true school of music.This is my heart if I were a fastfood outlet.A healthy man striking a smile, a neat hairdo,bourned gorgeous apparition.

The Book pic is my favorite. I took this from a notebook. I skipped the word "note" and got this truly cloudy image of my soul. I superimposed the word Oxygen to this as a psychological clutch.

Birch Treed
By: Iris P. Concepcion

The father, in my realm of consciousness, has created a very apt critique on the health nutrients of milk and I took it hook, line and sinker. They may be anxious, his brilliant clique and all, but now I understood the meaning of his foreboding.

Isn't your child such a magnet? She is quite apprehensive at times. She has seen other penned artisans curiously looking at her and she retreats to what she does best : look in, look back and find the gems as tipped by the brainiacs. At least there are faces to match with the words already and she is an obedient child of the universe who will take all that in her own creative process.

You know me. It takes quite a while for everything to get absorbed, but the extent of words had given me vitality to write, and write more.

Like you, I too had been chased. At least I saw the fireflies, aside from the just "plain" kibitzer chasers.

On my shirt went this line : Precious Hollywood, those who are like me, in some ways, circumnavigating that living theater.

J.S. Hoofrah and Marilyn Strider: I love the incredible trailers done. I laughed my butt off when the caveat came early in the film viewing i.e.: You may be sitting beside a pirate with a camcording. And John Cusack's sister is actually The French Lietenant's wife? Guys, you just do not know the enormous buffer you are doing to me, buffoons you may be but pathetically (I say this in a loving way) way too within the writer's wavelength.

Quotes
By : Iris P. Concepcion

They responded and nailed the nail on the head with the proper hammer.

So this, I got from a Zaire website which found its way into the optics and fed thy creepy self again:

"That brings me to the lesson I learned: do it because it's what you want. That goes for anything in life. I went with engineering because I liked to design things, my parents suggested that path, and I went along with it. Yes, I convinced myself that's what I wanted, but it wasn't, really. Ever since then, if I'm making a semi-big decision, I'm certain I'm doing it for the right reasons. Namely, that I actually want to do it."

Yes, I truly have found my home in terrible clowns with extraordinary language skills. I am being whacked for things I truly did (slothness, etc...) but it irks me when the clueless assume this is just fun. We know better fellas and that robot, hollowblock-bringing piece of smug went to his dictionary, wondering if he can be hip. He should learn the four important things in life according to the fiendish circus. Of course, mother has superior taste---she doesn't own a big tongue for nothing. Only the merits son, only the merits.

I know the effort involved is tremendous (we have the luxury to make films that can blow the galaxy away). So rest. Relish the affinity. Soon, mother will become a domesticated animal and needs to replay the Preacher's Wife one million times over. Even the hardknocks elongated their lips to the hilarious factory going on in the block.

And give it to the youngest, he always sings beautifully, bar none. It tickles me rhino-folds over they caught up the fire. Snoogan as a word landed here and became Filipino. Woohoo.

Oooppps. Literate people do not use that word. Cheers big fellas, cheers.

FAMILY CIRCUS
By: Iris P. Concepcion

I got some real cool shots on my cellular phone.

There's a bad monkey, somewhat signalling something to the elephant (it is really cute) painted on a God-worshipping place but with an amusement theme park aura to it, with eatery stalls beside it too, blaring ditties, as of the moment I was thinking of comfort rooms, Kenny Rogers and Linkin Park, a weird mix-up. I am going to post my ultra badly-framed (as opposed to just badly-framed) pics and allow the readers to enjoy the fruits of their superior, collaborative labor with my outmoded but functional cellphone camera.

Goodwill Hunting is the patty in the bun, the cream in the ice-cream, the lettuce in the salad, the dye to hair, the feet to slippers, the demon to afflour. That dreamy boy just went toast with that cashier shot in the film. Outgorgeoused by the partner. Haha. Didn't you develop crush on your buddy? I mean, if I didn't know he has brains and knows books, I'd tag him as some kind of a Chippindale dancer. And I'd be so gay.

I sort of felt segregated from humanity (those who can't understand always say, you are out of space, or out of reality, but then, am I talking to the creative pool or to the minions hahahahaed by my foster ascendant? The latter's my moral compass, of course, so no dice, I am never alarmed). I really do not care which side of the bun is buttered this time, you just gotta adore this bunch of stripped celluloid frames gaining blood veins and flesh, navigating, getting hungry like you and me, then fades out just like the flashback tool in the movies.

Thinking David pose, what the heck, Fleetwood Mac quoter! Guys, if he weren't like Bob (pound for pound) he'd be Jesus Christ. So polite and still, the best performer in the galaxy of living theater. "Thank you, Ma'am". I'll be damned. Scream. He was served by a character from a Tim Burton film----the hair, so Helena Bonham. Bungo, masaya ka na? Guapo ka raw sabi ng konsensya mo.

Yes! And this is a confession. I thought I died but the french fries were just damn too good to pass up. So I had to chew and continued breathing. To all the guys who gained weight because they love to eat: THANKS!

Kids, I may well be below the poverty line but it will not stop me from commanding you to return the tidings brought by the creative links. I did not adore these guys for nothing. I am a psychic so I can read through them. They are, and this is a tame word, magnificent. Show your love to them but do not be too faggy about it. You know the drill.

They like the Buddy above, this ringfire and quite hilarious in what they do. I mean, totally belly churning. Hospital, burn, burn, burn! Now I know what the brain said and said well: these are really GOOD people, threading the yarn in your quilt creation.

Here's the last stopper. The scene was begging for it. The soundtrack, the people, the dialogue. Half of my brain was processing: QT's going to do a cameo, so him. I was really thinking, perhaps, he'd drop in a parachute. He got better--------he drove a freaking king of the road vehicle and wheezed by. Passing lightning!

So, what's the lesson? When you are creative, like-minded people will swarm you. If you are not creative, what you will see is just plain billboards.

Loving you all and thanking you too. I have cool friends from this side of the planet and am glad you've met them.

The Hood
By: Iris P. Concepcion

Of course, everyone knows why the writer in the bucket full of cutting and adding and pasting and so on and so forth lost her cool for about three hours or thereabouts. Then she saw some crawling hands. Is that super expensive? Auction, auction. If I weren't such a sweet cad to these snoogans (they are really Filipinos at heart----I never doubted why they can blend with my sumans and latiks--I spotted that even before. Offshore Ninoys). Anyhow, let us scale down the recent excitement to: That apparel is such a grab. I hope the weighing scale wouldn't steal all your money. I feel everything, most of all, shyness because once again, the deliverance came. What will I do without these wrestlers?

I am opening my jewelry box. (Twwiiiinnnnng!!!).

Match yourselves with the quotations below :

1. I don’t call myself a poet because I don’t like the word. I’m a trapeze artist---Bob Dylan

2. For her there were two species: writers and people; and the writers were really people, and the people weren’t.---Randall Jarrell

3, The snotgreensea.The scrotumtightening sea. ---James Joyce

4. Officials are educated, but one-sided; in his own department an official can grasp whole trains of thought from a single word, but let him have something from another department explained to him by the hour, he may nod politely, but he won’t understand a word of it. --- Franz Kafka

5. Mary lived by wondering what lay round the corner. I lived by knowing there was no corner. --- P.J. Kavanagh

6. If we cannot end our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity --- John F. Kennedy

7. You know you haven’t stopped talking since I came here? You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle---Groucho Marx

8. When I sit I don’t like to/ sit the way my fleshy bottom wants to,/but in the way that my spiritual bottom would, if I sat/intertwine itself with the chair.---Christian Morgenstern but this is truly Keif Southern

9. All art deals with the absurd and aims at the simple. Good art speaks truth, indeed IS truth, perhaps the only truth.---(the quoted somewhat disappeared).

10. The sculptor must himself feel that he is not so much inventing or shaping the curve of a breast or shoulder as delivering the image from its prison---Anais Nin

11. I’m fat, but I’m thin inside. Has it ever occurred to you that there’s a thin man inside every fat man, just as they say there’s a statue inside every block of stone?---George Orwell

12. Real education must ultimately be limited to men who insist on knowing; the rest is mere sheep-herding.---Ezra Pound

13. It is, we believe,/Idle to hope that the simple stirrup-pump / Can extinguish hell.---Henry Reed

14. A confessional passage has probably never been written that didn’t stink a little bit of the writer’s pride in having given up his pride.---J.D. Salinger

15. The truth is cruel, but it can be loved, and it makes free those who have loved it.---Carl Sandburg

SOMETHING CRASHED INTO THE PLATE AND I CALLED IT DINNER
BY : Iris P. Concepcion

It was a meal where everyone seemed to head into palate guillotine. I saw Bob's lapel guys masquerading as Marlo Brandos (read: the Godfather). I am compelled to write like this for the most apparent reason. The guy with the California taco badge is like the gay man dreamie boy. Kind of weird though. I head into the unknown sometimes and they come in droves: colorful people donning real bad hair but with exceptional conversational skills. I do not want to poop out nonsensically in one traditionally weird, Perros-like montage but once a great film is played, I say aye. I do not want it copied and cut so I am hushing up. Put a bear, smiley hug here.Garfield character, thank you. I love mah baby. :-)

I learned about Apple's new technology, watched U2's Boston gig, spotted some singers.

About U2. It delighted me to teach my nephews (cousin's sons) that the lead singer's name is Bono. One of them asked: Is that The Beatles? I also taught them about Lennon's band. I do that to young people, so they may be aware of great musicians far beyond their 3"ft frames pumped up with PSP mechanics.

I love Bono with all my heart (their Boston gig has a huge heart platform---immaculate) and as usual, he spoke not like a plain musician but a musical professor. Watch this clip where he simulated the Greatest Villain, the Devil, and The Edge exorcised the bad, horned guy with his guitar. A duel via music and the devil changed, submerged into goodness. If I were to use the symbolisms taught by the greatest egg, this is the equation. Guitar=Goodness. In With or Without You, the singer got a fan from the audience and while both were in sleeping positions, they sang the anthem together. Imagine the shrivelled world, in that technological intertwining, like moth and leaf. I would like to think of this band as the greatest performing group in the planet in terms of quality content. And their music truly communicates. Lithely but compassionately. I wished they sang Heartland, to fit the platform's theme. My favorite ramp model is now Bono and this gig is the best testament for the shout-out. One. Remove the first letter and you get my nicky (for nickname) embossed. Finely shot gig--it is like a Ritchie film. Give it to the Brits, they are so trainspotting. Which reminds me of Bono's shoe sole. It reads : SO U.