Tuesday, August 22, 2006
There's a scary monster on your roof
Just a little continuation... pardon the boredom that this post of mine might bring, I'm tired and my eyes involuntarily closes...
"Aswang is more real than imaginary to most rural folks. It is a generic term for bad creatures of Filipino lower mythology ad is believed to be of different types. Classified according to the European tradition, the aswang can be 1) the blood sucking vampire, 2) the self-segmenting viscera sucker, 3) the man-eating werebeast, 4) the carrion-eating ghoul. In Philippine folk lore, the vampire appears disguised as a beautiful lady, marries an unsuspecting victim and sips his blood each night with her pointed tongue until he dies of anemia. In some cases, the vampire does not harm her spouse and flies out at night to raid other homes. the blood-sucking aswang is called amalanhig by the West Visayans, dang by the Isneg and mandurugo by the Tagalogs. The viscera sucker leaves behind its lower body from the waist down everytime its upper body flies to hunt for victims. It is known as abat in West Visayas, buruka in Ilocos, manananggal in the Tagalog provinces, and aswang na lupad in Bicol. Its favorite victims are pregnant mothers and its favorite food the human heart, liver, lungs and entrails" (-- 494).
They say that hanging garlics on your windows will drive aswangs away. They don't like garlic, as well as salt, but garlic is the most effective thing against them. I also heard that they have long tongues. Some aswangs go perch on a roof, look for a hole and then go suck on the baby inside a pregnant woman's womb who is sleeping below. Morbid, I know, but that is what I have heard...
posted by Lailomeiel at 4:46 AM | 0 comments
Monday, August 21, 2006
The First-Ever Post
Well, well, I now have another new blog (for the nth time already). I seem to sign up for a lot of blogs lately... but ended up deleting them, or abandoning them, and I realized that every time I have a new blog and write my first post I always mention this: 'I hope it stays or sticks'. Truth is, the only journals/blogs (among the countless ones...) is my first blogger account and my first livejournal which I started on June 2002, and my vox account (I am the only lailomeiel in the net btw). Maybe I kept my lj because it started on the year of my Senior year in high school... that's already four years ago since now I'm a College senior... which again makes it surreal because it's been four years already... back then I thought that I'm going to be a Marine biologist or an Archeologist (an underwater archeologist... since I have a deep attachment with the ocean. I'm a landlocked mermaid actually, or a fish without scales and gills) but then I went the sort of other way around...
Enough of the nostalgia. I just hope that this journal would stick because it's my name anyway, in African, that is.
So what is to be the purpose of this journal or blog? (I always have purposed for the other abandoned and deleted ones, dear journal, please don't think of this as a warning!) I'm going to make this my blog of collected myths, stories, and random thoughts and yes, crap. I'm only going to post not regularly since I am plagued with daily homeworks, stuff to read and the meno-and-andro-pausal parents and the sound of crickets' practice chorus outside (not unless it's the usual sound of now-unseen-personally-named-owl Rajah) I'm going to post when I have some time to spare, and yes, with my brain decent enough to make a decent post.
So first post. What's going to be my first post?
It's going to be 'ber' season in a couple of weeks. After my birthday will be Halloween time... all those orange and black decors, jack-0-lantern's and ghost stories... I used to love all those kind of stuff, considering I spent my pre-adolescent time reading R.L. Stine's Goosebumps (how I miss those, I wasn't able to complete the whole series though, how sad.) as well as Nancy Drew mysteries... I decided that my first 'decent' post will be about local myths and legends. That is, Philippine myths and legends.
I have sources though, which I will cite. However, my first hand accounts will have to follow since my yaya Allen's (I will call her 'ayah', pretend that I am Indian... blame Salman Rushdie) (I'm still trying to finish Midnight's Children so pardon the inclusion, such a good book, if I may add). So ayah Allen's interview will have to follow, and so does my Mum's stories about old San Carlos in Pangasinan...
But wait, it's supposed to be halloween... so there, I'd just talk about the dark side in Philippine mythology:
We happen to have this book:
Various authors. Filways: Philippine Almanac. (ed. Virgilio S. Almario). Manila: Filway Marketing Inc. 1991.
and it happen to have a section of Lizzie-frequently-visited about myths and creatures of legends and all that. And here I quote (the Philippine-original ones, although I believe that there is no original things left in this world... and that we all live in a world of borrowed ideas...):
"In Philippine legends, demons are like tall dark men. They live in big trees with thick round leaves like the balete or calumpang. They are large, breathe fire, and smoke cigars that do not burn out. They can take various shapes such as hornless carabaos, horses, pigs, or even a ball of fire. They can disappear at will. It is believed that a person who gets frightened when he sees a demon becomes insane" (-- 493).
And this demon is what they locally call a 'Kapre'. I've heard stories about the Kapre from my ayah. They say that they also abduct pretty girls that they have a crush on and take them to their world. Normally the girl will die in the real world, or will be lost. Our neighbour used to have a big fire tree in their backyard and my ayah used to tell me that in that tree lurks a 'Kapre'. The tree was so beautiful, it even blooms twice a year if I remember correctly... until that storm Rosing tore the poor fire tree down and in the end the poor fire tree became a foot stool, a table and firewood...
Anyway, on to the other mythic creatures: Oh wait, I forgot to mention that the article in this book also mentions dragons, mermaids, ogres and just a thought: Maybe they are all real. You know, some legends are based on facts... it's unusual to have the same thing in different countries... with different names. Maybe before they are indeed real, only Man have devised certain ways of making them not real... and with that we have to blame marketing, workaholics, and random bores... but oh well, I better shut up.
Dwarves... Philppine legends also have dwarves. "They live underground and come out at noon or after sunset. Since they are invisible, they can be hurt by unsuspecting people..." (-- 493). It's a local thing, whenever you are in a place you've never been before, especially in the provinces, the elders will always remind you to say this: 'Tabi Tabi Po'. So that the 'invicible people' will let you pass or be out of your way so as to keep the peace between you two. They say that if you don't say the phrase, and you unintenionally hit an invisible dwarf, you'll get sick or even die... or some other random bad things you can think about will happen unless they decided to forgive you.
Aww... Lizzie's tired typing for today. Anyway, till the next time... and yes, next post will still be about random myths. :D
P.S. You know sometimes, you feel that people around you really really cares or rather, it's like your family, but the next morning you feel like you woke in a boot camp.., well never you mind. It's just a thought.
posted by Lailomeiel at 5:28 AM | 0 comments
My 5 year old duck Argus died last night. I was with him though, when he last breathed. I was crying the whole time because I remember the day I bought the two of them and how I sneaked them in school, then in the car and finally revealing their existence to my parents. And that Argus had done so many unforgettable antics... I'll miss Argus and I think that it will be a long time again for me to get another duck. :(
My sister and I found out that some store sells a box of Magic The Gathering cards for half the price... we were supposed to go but Mum told us that her friend said that the store was closed down because apparently, that store sells smuggled stuff. Geez, why do I always have to be the last to know?
Anyhoo, I feel so bummed. I wanna go watch a movie with my friends but I have so much schoolwork to do. I already started my arts paper and finished my ais presentation and queue cards for tomorrow. and I were talking last night about which century we should belong, the topic came from some random thought we both had but anyhoo, he should be thrown off in either the Roman period (I hope that he ends up as a slave) or in the future, like year 3000 or something. Boys. And speaking of me, it's either Medieval or the Romantic period, so, just in case I do get to be thrown off (as if it's really going to happen) here are some of the things in this period that I'll miss:
1) Movies
2) Rock / Alternative and recorded Celtic Music
3) Photography
4) Surfing
5) Chocolates
6) Beach shirts
7) Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
8) Mp3s
9) Fantasy books
10) Whipped cream and canned Tuna
11) Ansel Adams photos
12) Colored Book Illustrations
13) Google
14) Comic Books
15) Walt Disney
16) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & Ghostbusters... My Little Pony and Carebears
17) Lost TV Series
18) Glow In The Dark stuff
19) Magic The Gathering Cards
20) Mint Toothpaste
Downloaded Music:
Forces of Nature - Oasis
Down Like Disco - The Dandy Warhols
There's a good reason why these tables are numbered! - The Dandy Warhols
The Ocean - Mae
Everglow - Mae
Dru Drury
Some links for all of ye:
DecoOrient - Asian art prints
Loggia - Greek Myths
Coaster Globe - Roller coasters
From Darkvictoria @ LJ.
My brain is already on vacation mode but there is still 5 more days of school. Why does time need to be SO SLOW just when you NEED IT TO GO FAST??? Also, they're building a wire fence on the spot which I call.. "the green fields". I look out my window now and there is this annoying grey fence. I can still see the through it though but it's just annoying. It destroys the view. Also, no offense to the fence but I don't like it. It heightens the fact that I do live in a slowly developing place. Something not good.
I finished my ais paper this morning and I just hope that it would be okay and most importantly, passing.
Anyhoo, downloaded:
Far Away by Nickelback
Un Dia de Normal by Juanes
I think I am now hating the idea of having my own planner. Whenever I flip the pages... I feel swamped. I'm thinking of not using the planner anymore and go back to using my phone as a note pad or go back to using scraps of paper... but I'm so forgetful nowadays so I guess I'll go back with my planner and suck the crap in. 0.0
Will watch Jarhead tomorrow. Wanna see Jake Gylenhaal nekkid. lol. Don't find him that cute before, in Day after Tomorrow but now, err... I also have to see Brokeback Mountain and finish my book Eragon. I'll procrastinate... all will be done by Monday, hopefully.
I've been catching re-runs of Rockstar INXS and if before I'm so pro Marty and Mig, I'm now pro- Marty, Mig and J.D. But as if it would make a difference, J.D. won anyhoo.
The Ground Beneath Her Feet, by Salman Rushdie [Jan. 8th, 2006|08:42 pm]
z3ro666
Does it get much better than this?
I surely don't think so. It left me almost breathless.
This... this might be my favorite literary quote of all-time.
"For a long while I have believed (...) that in every generation there are a few souls, call them lucky or cursed, who are simply born not belonging, who come into the world semi-detached, if you like, without strong affiliation to family or location or nation or race; that there may even be millions, billions of such souls, as many non-belongers as belongers, perhaps; that, in sum, the phenomenon may be as "natural" a manifestation of human nature as its opposite, but one that has been mostly frustrated, throughout human history, by lack of opportunity. And not only by that: for those who value stability, who fear transience, uncertainty, change, have erected a powerful system of stigmas and taboos against rootlessness, that disruptive, anti-social force, so that we mostly conform, we pretend to be motivated by loyalties and solidarities we do not really feel, we hide our secret identities beneath the false skins of those identities which bear the belonger's seal of approval. But the truth leaks out in our dreams; alone in our beds (because we are all alone at night, even if we do not sleep by ourselves), we soar, we fly, we flee. And in the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths our arts, our songs, we celebrate the non-belongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks. What we forbid ourselves we pay good money to watch, in a playhouse or movie theatre, or to read about between the secret covers of a book. Our libraries, our places of entertainment tell the truth. The tramp, the assassin, the rebel, the thief, the mutant, the outcast, the delinquent, the devil, the sinner, the traveller, the gangster, the runner, the mask: if we did not recognize in them our least-fulfilled needs, we would not invent them over and over again, in every place, in every language, in every time.
No sooner did we have ships than we rushed to sea, sailing across oceans in paper boats. No sooner did we have cars than we hit the road. No sooner did we have airplanes than we zoomed to the furthest corners of the globe. Now we yearn for the moon's dark side, the rocky plains of Mars, the rings of Saturn, the interstellar deeps. We send mechanical photographers into orbit, or on one-way journeys to the stars, and we weep at the wonders they transmit; we are humbled by the mighty images of far-off galaxies standing like cloud pillars in the sky, and we give names to alien rocks, as if they were our pets. We hunger for warp space, for the outlying rim of time. And this is the species that kids itself it likes to stay home, to bind itself with-- what are they called again?--- ties.
That's my view. You don't have to buy it. Maybe there aren't so many of us, after all. Maybe we are disruptive and anti-social and we shouldn't be allowed. You're entitled to your opinion. All I will say is: sleep soundly, baby. Sleep tight and sweet dreams." - Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
The Ground Beneath Her Feet, by Salman Rushdie [Jan. 8th, 2006|08:42 pm]
z3ro666
Does it get much better than this?
I surely don't think so. It left me almost breathless.
This... this might be my favorite literary quote of all-time.
"For a long while I have believed (...) that in every generation there are a few souls, call them lucky or cursed, who are simply born not belonging, who come into the world semi-detached, if you like, without strong affiliation to family or location or nation or race; that there may even be millions, billions of such souls, as many non-belongers as belongers, perhaps; that, in sum, the phenomenon may be as "natural" a manifestation of human nature as its opposite, but one that has been mostly frustrated, throughout human history, by lack of opportunity. And not only by that: for those who value stability, who fear transience, uncertainty, change, have erected a powerful system of stigmas and taboos against rootlessness, that disruptive, anti-social force, so that we mostly conform, we pretend to be motivated by loyalties and solidarities we do not really feel, we hide our secret identities beneath the false skins of those identities which bear the belonger's seal of approval. But the truth leaks out in our dreams; alone in our beds (because we are all alone at night, even if we do not sleep by ourselves), we soar, we fly, we flee. And in the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths our arts, our songs, we celebrate the non-belongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks. What we forbid ourselves we pay good money to watch, in a playhouse or movie theatre, or to read about between the secret covers of a book. Our libraries, our places of entertainment tell the truth. The tramp, the assassin, the rebel, the thief, the mutant, the outcast, the delinquent, the devil, the sinner, the traveller, the gangster, the runner, the mask: if we did not recognize in them our least-fulfilled needs, we would not invent them over and over again, in every place, in every language, in every time.
No sooner did we have ships than we rushed to sea, sailing across oceans in paper boats. No sooner did we have cars than we hit the road. No sooner did we have airplanes than we zoomed to the furthest corners of the globe. Now we yearn for the moon's dark side, the rocky plains of Mars, the rings of Saturn, the interstellar deeps. We send mechanical photographers into orbit, or on one-way journeys to the stars, and we weep at the wonders they transmit; we are humbled by the mighty images of far-off galaxies standing like cloud pillars in the sky, and we give names to alien rocks, as if they were our pets. We hunger for warp space, for the outlying rim of time. And this is the species that kids itself it likes to stay home, to bind itself with-- what are they called again?--- ties.
That's my view. You don't have to buy it. Maybe there aren't so many of us, after all. Maybe we are disruptive and anti-social and we shouldn't be allowed. You're entitled to your opinion. All I will say is: sleep soundly, baby. Sleep tight and sweet dreams." - Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
But though I was, in most respects, an average Joe, as ordinary as a doughnut, there was a time there when I was, in my own small part of the world, and in my own small way, as popular as Michael Jackson, as hunted as the finback whale. For I did have one small attribute that made me special. One rare quality that made me stand out among my peers like a scarlet ibis in a flock of penguins. "And what was that, Mike?" I hear you ask. Did I possess artistic genius? Intellectual brilliance? The character and personality of a Mother Teresa? Had I inherited forty million dollars and a suit once worn by Elvis Presley? Won the lottery? Discovered the Fountain of Youth or a cure for cancer or the meaning of life?
The answer is: no. None of the above.
The answer to the question "What was it that set you apart from other metropolitan men of similar education and socioethic background and gave you a notoriety and appeal usually reserved for rock stars or serial killers?" is: I was single.
As of the summer of 1986, some stockbroker in the Village and I were the only two fully operational, healthy, solvent, heterosexual males within, say, a seventy-mile radius of New York City whose sell-by date had not yet expired, who had no severe bad habits (like a tendency to violence or a toxic dependency), and who were not married, about to be married, or as good as married. And because of that one simple - and in most societies unnotable - fact, in the years that have followed 1986 as surely as the honeymoon the wedding, my entire life has been turned around and upside down.
- My Life As A Whale, by Dyan Sheldon
But though I was, in most respects, an average Joe, as ordinary as a doughnut, there was a time there when I was, in my own small part of the world, and in my own small way, as popular as Michael Jackson, as hunted as the finback whale. For I did have one small attribute that made me special. One rare quality that made me stand out among my peers like a scarlet ibis in a flock of penguins. "And what was that, Mike?" I hear you ask. Did I possess artistic genius? Intellectual brilliance? The character and personality of a Mother Teresa? Had I inherited forty million dollars and a suit once worn by Elvis Presley? Won the lottery? Discovered the Fountain of Youth or a cure for cancer or the meaning of life?
The answer is: no. None of the above.
The answer to the question "What was it that set you apart from other metropolitan men of similar education and socioethic background and gave you a notoriety and appeal usually reserved for rock stars or serial killers?" is: I was single.
As of the summer of 1986, some stockbroker in the Village and I were the only two fully operational, healthy, solvent, heterosexual males within, say, a seventy-mile radius of New York City whose sell-by date had not yet expired, who had no severe bad habits (like a tendency to violence or a toxic dependency), and who were not married, about to be married, or as good as married. And because of that one simple - and in most societies unnotable - fact, in the years that have followed 1986 as surely as the honeymoon the wedding, my entire life has been turned around and upside down.
- My Life As A Whale, by Dyan Sheldon
"It is a small world. You do not have to live in it particularly long to learn that for yourself. There is a theory that, in the whole world, there are only five hundred real people (the cast, as it were; all the rest of people in the world are extras) and what is more, they all know each other. And it’s true, or true as far as it goes. In reality the world is made of thousands upon thousands of groups of about five hundred people, all of whom will spend their lives bumping into each other, trying to avoid each other, and discovering each other in the same unlikely teashop in Vancouver. There is an unavoidability to this process. It’s not even coincidence. It’s just the way the world works, with no regard for individuals or for propriety. "
~ Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys
1. "But you have there the myth of the essential white America. All the other stuff, the love, the democracy, the floundering into lust, is a sort of by-play. The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted."
2. "I can think of no more depressing prediction for future generations than the suggestion our progeny will fondly recall what is in construction and effect a tribute to or byproduct of homicidal psychosis."
Vladimir: Come on, Gogo, return the ball, can't you, once in a while?
- Waiting for Godot - Act I
Quicksand
What can I say, I'm going through my Harlem Renaissance phase. :)
The trees in their spring beauty sent through her restive mind a sharp thrill of pleasure. Seductive, charming, and beckoning as cities were, they had not this easy unhuman loveliness. The trees, she thought, on city avenues and boulevards, in city parks and gardens, were tamed, held prisoners in a surrounding maze of human beings. Here they were free. It was human beings who were prisoners. It was too bad. In the midst of all this radiant life. They weren't, she knew, even conscious of its presence. Perhaps there was too much of it, and therefore it was less than nothing.
-Nella Larsen
