Time For Some New ‘Old School’ Stuff

I don’t mean to be passive, nor insensitive, at what just transpired here. Far from it. But like many of the most popular social network fodder that is being milked and bilked and squeezed by the so-called netizens of the interwebs, I just had to deviate. I am, after all a real deviant.

So, what now?

A couple of weeks ago, I was introduced to a new friend, Mr.Riki Tamashiro by my friend Weng Shimada. Turned out it was something from my childhood couch potato days – wrestling – that paved the way for our paths to meet. We talked  about this maybe a year or so, but was something  only in passing, that a Japanese firm, Reina , wanted to show the Filipino audience. The idea lay in my mind dormant, because with all the work and my delusions of grandeur with publishing my own comics, I almost forgot I agreed to it even before meeting Riki-san.

But they came, and I, for one am excited about this.

So, does anybody know what Joshin Puroresu is? In other parts of the world people have been following this, in Europe, in other parts of Asia, and of course, Mexico and the Latin Americas. I’m surprised no one here had the idea of making a tv show of ProWomen’s Wrestling here on local tv. We have some serious butt-kicking happening with MMA and the UFC, the drama and humor of WWE, but I think the only thing that comes close to describing Joshin is Rey Mysterio – just for the athleticism, the jaw dropping flying stunts, and …

The Mask.

Oh, there is an entirely different form of wrestling gear when it comes to Joshin Puroresu. Think Lucha Libre and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

But wait!

There’s more!

I needled Riki-san, and he was really glad I asked about stuff. Turns out there is a Filipina blood wreaking havoc with the league,  a real firecracker, and is a champion.

Syuri Kondo, born February 8, 1989 is a Japanese professional wrestler, shoot boxer and kickboxer,  who debuted sometime 2008 as KG, or Karate Girl. No, this fierce 5’4″ & half of martial art skill and devastating kicks is one babe you wouldn’t want to mess with. And she’s a looker too.

I hope a tv network would  carry the matches on local programming. I introduced Riki-san and Weng to one of, I supposed, bigwigs at my tv network, but alas, I think the three of us are disappointed at the treatment. Me, I was aghast at the sheer disrespect of letting a guest, who’s already here, in our country, personally taking the initiative to bring this kind of sportainment that we don’t have. So I guess, I’ll do something about it and ask some friends (I’m not the only one working in the broadcast industry from my college buddies) to connect me with their own people about this.

And if you ever see the name Syuri Kondo, or see the face elsewhere, remember, there are other Filipinas out there who are not just showing off their bikini bods and signature walks, but banging heads and kicking butts inside the ring.

And do expect some Joshin drawing from me. I did a Muscleman animation years ago, time to bring that up somehow. And , lest I forget, these matches held by Reina help fund really practical causes. So if you think re-posting links, and photos of news articles about Haiyan/Yolanda helps, it won’t. So instead of being all keyboard-warrior, why not put together some donaions and really HELP out, okay?

And for some more Joshin Puroresu galleries visit the following links:

https://picasaweb.google.com/109626561853460833336/131102Reina5DumpChika?authkey=Gv1sRgCMrGrajl_4zwIQ#

https://picasaweb.google.com/109626561853460833336/131102Reina4ZeuxisVaquerita?authkey=Gv1sRgCN_dvfGwh4OUaA#

https://picasaweb.google.com/109626561853460833336/131102Reina3LeonSareee?authkey=Gv1sRgCJCIgLHdge-D4gE#

https://picasaweb.google.com/109626561853460833336/131102Reina2Sparks?authkey=Gv1sRgCNKRvMiDk4yMEQ#

https://picasaweb.google.com/109626561853460833336/131102Reina1JennyRose?authkey=Gv1sRgCJKigJW-qenwwgE#

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Well, Why Not?

Image

I poured myself a tall one. As the documentary buffers on YouTube, I settle and just decided to change the name of my blog. Between puffs of smoke and an occasional sip from my own concoction of lemon ice tea and brandy (don’t ask, it’s the only mix I know that doesn’t leave me shitfaced drunk) and looked at my blog wondering if I should delete it altogether or continue an intermittent flow of posts.

What’s the point?

Turns out, it is the whole point in all of this: the questions, the doubts, tribulations, frustrations, occasional bragging rights and stuff. it is entirely the point – take everything with a grain of salt. But not to accept readily.

And besides, this is the only time I could carry a conversation long enough to find a conclusion. It’s why it reads”

“This is me talking to myself.”

Because I haven’t been this way with myself for a long time. I know I am a real introvert since I was a kid. Yes, I grew up in a small town where virtually everyone knows everybody. But I know I am always an outsider. I don’t just feel it. I embraced it. Even now that I am fast approaching my 45th year on this Earth, somehow I crave that idea of being left alone, whenever possible. To do things my own way.

Of course, it’s not entirely possible to just think of myself, but I do, now, consider myself and my family, the ME I should be thinking about. And I could still be loyal to my friends, my co-workers, my superiors, and still maintain that aloofness that has been set aside for sometime.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy my new habitation with Jackson and Gerard, and the apartment just feels like home now. Being the oldest guy is also a good thing, they usually leave me alone. Good, sensible people, these two housemates of mine.

So, I’m back into being myself.

Again.

My komiks seem to be going quite well. And I hope this writing and illustrating will be a means to an end. I have the symptoms of having serious issues with city living.

He Knows About Angela Postscripts

Wake [verb]

v.tr.

1. To rouse from sleep; awaken.
2. To stir, as from a dormant or inactive condition; rouse: wake old animosities.
3. To make aware of; alert: The shocking revelations finally woke me to the facts of the matter.
4.

a. To keep a vigil over.
b. To hold a wake over.

It’s when something jolts you out of your stupor, achingly disrupts your otherwise redundant daily activities and you keep yourself from screaming your lungs out from the disorientation and shock from the knowledge and realization that, at least, the reality of temporary existence is absolutely inevitable.

No, it’s not that you have been in a hedonistic state of living, but caught up with the race, work, family, current events, well connected but disconnected, these are times when you step back and look at what we have become, or where we have come to. Or just plain slack jawed at what transpired.

He Knows About Angela Postscripts

Wake n.

1. A watch; a vigil.
2. A watch over the body of a deceased person before burial, sometimes accompanied by festivity. Also called regionally viewing.
                                                                                        3. wakes (used with a sing. or pl. verb) Chiefly British

a. A parish festival held annually, often in honor of a patron saint.
b. An annual vacation.
One digs deeper with this feeling of loss, of finality, of severance.  A definition suggests a watch, a vigil, and I concur, this life is all about standing watch over those you hold dear. And the acceptance of holding the candle being passed unto you.  Even from someone you hardly know. As I look back, the passing of my own mother, whom I never got the chance to talk to while still alive and
feisty, caring and loving. The death of my mother in law, literally in my arms. An aunt. A childhood friend who got hacked to pieces in the mountains. A kindred spirit and probably the closest I could get for a sister,  bound, gagged, stabbed more than I could understand, lying lifeless and bloody in our apartment.  And just recently, an artist whom I would like to emulate. I’d rather celebrate their lives than skulk in a dark corner.
Wake n.
1. The visible track of turbulence left by something moving through water: the wake of a ship.
2. A track, course, or condition left behind something that has passed: The war left destruction and famine in its wake.

Idiom:

in the wake of

1. Following directly on.
2. In the aftermath of; as a consequence of.
So what now? Those of us who are left behind? Will we shed tear and mourn and grief ? Is it too hard to understand that their course has ended but ours is just turning a new corner? It’s not about death really, but a leap of faith, to go on without them. To burn the bridge in the dark and let the flames light the way on the path ahead. Will we crumble with what’s left or  build something from the remnants, of the ruin, from the ashes.
Ina. Mama. Popert. Raldies. Mamu.
He knows about Angela.
ANGELA DON’T GO AND LEAVE ME TONIGHT (LEAVE ME TONIGHT), 
ANGELA PLEASE BE WITH ME (ANGELA), 
ANGELA DON’T EVER WALK THROUGH MY LIFE (WALK THROUGH MY LIFE), 
ANGELA PLEASE BE WITH ME, CAUSE I LOVE YOU. 
He  even commented, in one of those short banters we had the time to indulge in, that the chorus sounded too juvenile. I guess he was right. Too much weight on the loss. Too much ” what will I do without you” sort of sentiment.
They will never pass this way again. But it would be nice if they could see that we are holding up good and doing the best we can. The longing line from the song may even sound romantic and remorseful, but it just won’t  do to stay in that train of thought.
I’m saying goodbye without looking. Probably for the best. The rains keep coming. Probably the sign of his passing, and all those that went before him.
Move along.