STROBE LIGHTS
By: Iris P. Concepcion

People found a new medium to parlay some excess and it spooked me out that the moving installation art looked like a page from a magazine. Genius. I am not referring to the spaceships above (I have a thing for anything alien if you have been following this blog). Those caged cars; very Scorsese in form.I have seen these things before, but in still form.

I surveyed some grounds last night (an exciting metaphor for the wet alleys; actually I did tread a path, not much of a hip thing to babble about), looked for spaces to hang some posters on. I have a fast forward mind that these could be taken down by people in plaster cast but let us give it some shot. I can sleep over the fact that after everything is done, the people I am endorsing here will not have any problem on a clean up drive; they did not put much value on streamers; the stickers on cars is their best way to maximize visibility at an optimum level. I have seen these in baywalks and I am impressed with how I can immediately connect these images with their very open, head-on take on issues (their web sites do explain these).

Okay, so it was a lame drizzling walk (like what normally happens in a sleepy indie film) with hosts of people whom you might consider in other circumstances as impolite, but upclose, are paragons of decorum. Tambays can be the most refreshingly upfront and honest persons in the whole world, take my word on this. So we simply walked and landed in this nookie with spaceships (now, this is interesting).

In here, a terrible sweet show was staged. They were singing. And disco dancing and it was all awful but spectacular. This mix is lethal in content and the faint of comprehension could actually walk out in desperation as to why strobe lights can be so poring over souls.

Ordered food; sauces got mixed. The bouncers had like, 1,000 tons of balls under their pants; they walked like bags of sandbags were placed in between their legs. Of course, it was hilarious. And double of course, I am a deep person like Deep Purple and saw the most intelligent message thereon despite the tight pants. Platform of my caring classmates.

I have always wanted to enter some of these seedy places to feel how it is like inside; write about it and this is the closest weirded out environment I can get into. Everything seemed wrong but deliriously correct. It is one of those days that you laugh at the silliness of some things; I almost lost my whole set of teeth to mimicry and realistically, it was truly funny. I hate to admit it but there goes the freakiest brood in the whole universe cornering all the Godzillas in one motion. It validates me actually that they have refrained from cussing and displayed an Ang Lee type of satire that I went: "What the hell is wrong with these people?????"

Zafra is a huge fan of Eric Rohmer. Now, THIS is Eric Rohmer. Doesn't ring a bell but he is deadly with those kicks.

For the finale: A very, very dark guy entered with a shirt : "Bomber Moran Forever!"

Valentinos rode in those spaceships!!!. And the night turned into a journey to the carnival. You need to go there if only to look at their stoic drummers---they all looked like they are merely selling taho.

Envious? One word : WALK.