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Bloody Twisted Valentine Cake, originally uploaded by 160507.

This is My Bloody Twisted Valentine Cake, the latest creation of the Dessert Diva. It was awarded to the winner of our story contest, sylviaplathsghost. It’s Strawberries and Chocolate Cream—layers of chocolate meringue sandwiched in chocolate cream and strawberries under a blanket of chocolate roses. If the leaders of our nation ever tell us to eat cake, we hope they mean this.

Some friends of mine attended the rally on Ayala Avenue last Friday. They walked over from their offices. As the rally progressed, they grew more and more uncomfortable. They were surrounded by the hakot crowd—busloads of people who had been paid by politicians to appear at the event. This is not about class or snobbery. This is about wanting to express your outrage, and finding that the guy standing next to you was paid to show up. You hope that his outrage is genuine, and you really can’t begrudge him accepting money because he probably needs it. But it’s not right. This is not what People Power was supposed to be. People were supposed to be united by their convictions. Now it’s been reduced to a show of numbers. My friends repaired to a nearby Starbucks, where a whole bunch of people who had also come to the rally from their offices had also taken refuge. That’s what they were: refugees.

Twisted 8, originally uploaded by 160507. TWISTED 8 by Jessica Zafra. Now available (P250) at Cibo and Cafe Bola branches, National Bookstores, Powerbooks. We deliver orders of 10 copies or more; email zeusbooks.twisted8@gmail.com.

Every so often on this blog I give away books as prizes for contests, as cheap bribes, or to make space on my shelves. The winners are notified by email to claim their prizes at the offices of Anvil Publishing in Mandaluyong (fairly accessible, near Robinson’s Pioneer). Jo at Anvil has informed me that many of the books have not been claimed. Please claim your prizes by the end of this week, or I’ll have to think up another contest and give them away again. If you live outside of Metro Manila, have someone pick them up.

Kon Ichikawa, director of Fires On The Plain and The Burmese Harp, has died at the age of 92. Fires On The Plain (Nobi), set in Leyte during the Japanese retreat towards the end of World War II, is one of the fiercest, saddest condemnations of war ever committed to celluloid. It should be required viewing for all humans.

Today. Lunchtime. The Mandarin cafe/jungle in Gateway.

Grungella: Why’d you break up with your boyfriend?

Grover: He said he was commitment-phobic.

Guy Smiley: You should’ve said you were breakup-phobic!

Grover: It wasn’t a huge surprise. He did say at the start that he wasn’t ready for a relationship.

Grungella: That’s what my last one said, too! But I never listen because I believe that an exception should be made in my case.

The Count: I ran into my ex. He used to be buff, but now he’s fat.

Everyone: That’s wonderful!Good for you!

The Count: A purely sexual relationship is really the best kind.

Kermit: But what about love?

Grover: I thought you were looking for a boyfriend, I didn’t know you were looking for romance.

I saw two sweet movies in a row: The Darjeeling Limited (showing only at Greenbelt 3), and Juno (showing everywhere).

The Darjeeling Limited is another trip into the stylish artificial universe of Wes Anderson. Every time I watch a Wes Anderson movie, I wish I had his characters’ problems. (Although I Was the Jason Schwartzman character in Rushmore.) No one ever worries about the bills, they just have elliptical conversations and dissociate from reality.

Everyone I know who’s seen it ranks its stars this way: 1. Adrien Brody, 2. Jason Schwartzman, and 3. Owen Wilson (whose head is bandaged throughout the movie, reminding everyone of his suicide attempt). You figure out what the ranking is for.

I enjoyed the movie, but it seems the filmmakers went to a lot of trouble—having Marc Jacobs design the matching luggage, hauling it to India—just to say, “Guys, you need to get rid of your emotional baggage.” Recovery time: 0. Nothing to recover from, unless you have luggage envy. Although I did contract LSS and have “Play With Fire” by the Rolling Stones in my head. Which reminds me that “Ruby Tuesday” was in The Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack, so I hear the two tracks alternately.

Juno is not bad, but it’s no Superbad. Recovery time: 30 minutes, but only to get over the cute cloyingly obvious soundtrack.

Breaking news. In Juno, the title character listens to Sonic Youth’s cover of “Superstar” by The Carpenters. Well President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo just sang The Carpenters’ “I Have You” with Richard Carpenter and Claire dela Fuente in Malacanang. There’s some weird synchronicity here. Maybe we should imagine GMA singing “Don’t you remember you told me you love me babeeeh. . .” But in Thurston Moore’s voice. Please.

Great quote from I don’t remember whom: “If Karen Carpenter and not Mama Cass Elliot had eaten that ham sandwich, they would both be alive today.”

Because “Valentine’s” does not adequately express what we feel about February 14, the range of emotions it evokes, and the big production numbers it entails, I propose that Valentine’s Day (Who is St. Valentine anyway?) be renamed Kris Aquino Day (We know so much more about her than that Valentine dude). Why not? On the way home every day I pass two billboards greeting her on her special day. It’s a formality, almost.

I found my mother’s tattered copy of Edmond Rostand’s play Cyrano de Bergerac among the dusty Reader’s Digest Condensed Books in the family bookshelf when I was ten. I started reading it out of boredom, and I got hooked. This version was in rhyming verse and I didn’t understand much of it, but I kept on reading because the hero was magnificent. He was funny-looking— that huge nose—he was always broke, and the woman he loved was in love with some dolt, but none of these things bothered him. He was funny, he wrote wonderfully, he could turn out rhyming quatrains while vivisecting an opponent in a swordfight. He feared no one, he openly mocked the powerful, and he made grand, extravagant gestures that didn’t really get him anywhere, but what gestures they were. I learned what “panache” means.

The part that really got me was when Cyrano pretends to have fallen from the moon, and proceeds to explain how space travel is possible. (The play was written in 1897.) And he does this so that the woman he loves can marry the dolt without being interrupted.

I thought people were supposed to be like Cyrano de Bergerac, or at least aspire to be like him. Life quickly rid me of that notion. Imagine my disillusionment. Cyrano de Bergerac ruined my life.

In college I learned that the hero of Rostand’s play was based on a real person. Here’s a review of Ishbel Addyman’s biography of the real Cyrano—writer, free-thinker, science-fiction writer, probably gay (that explains so much).

Jason Abalos is NOT related to Benjamin Abalos. Jason is the star of ufo Pictures’ ENDO, in which he plays an honest contractual worker who falls in love and wonders if he can afford it. Ina Feleo costars. ENDO opens tomorrow, 13 February, at Glorietta 4 Ayala Center, Gateway Araneta Center Cubao, and SM digital cinemas (Megamall, North Edsa, Manila, Southmall, Fairview, Centerpoint). The movie cost way less than US$265 million, but delivers so much more.

The jury for My Bloody Twisted Valentine story competition was composed of a.k.a., b.k.a., and c.k.a. I recused myself from the vote and watched dvds instead.

a.k.a. became Chair because he did the most pondering. He also requested anonymity, as it is hard to judge people’s writing when one is dead. “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” he declared, “Just hate me.” Not content with naming one winner, the jury handed out awards to nearly everyone. However, only the first prize comes with cake.

The complete list of awardees:
The Chair suddenly had pangs of conscience and asked that the snarky award citations be deleted. I said, No, we should tell them the truth. He said, The movie and coffee are on me. I said, Okay.
Honorable Mention: eilish.
Third Prize: evilwoobie.
Second Prize: Rye. If you’re single, the Dessert Diva wants to meet you. He thinks you’re hilarious.
First Prize: sylviaplathsghost. Please email your cellphone number, the name of the person you’re sending My Bloody Twisted Valentine Cake to, and his/her phone number and address to jessica.zafra@gmail.com.

And top51, b.k.a. and c.k.a. were so touched that you wanted the cake for your mom, they convinced the Dessert Diva to send her cookies. Please email your cellphone number and your mom’s name, address, and phone number to jessica.zafra@gmail.com.

There’s this little Irish movie called Once, written and directed by John Carney and starring two musicians, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. It’s lovely. I love it for the exact opposite of the reasons that I love, say, There Will Be Blood. Once is simple and unassuming, has a cozy home-made quality, and the soundtrack consists of melodious songs one can actually sing. A good movie is a good movie is a good movie, whatever its scope and intentions.

In Once, a guy meets a girl, they hang out, and then the movie veers away from the usual love story tropes. The guy is a vacuum cleaner repairman who sings for change on the streets of Dublin; the girl is a pianist, an immigrant from the Czech Republic who sells flowers and cleans houses. They start writing and recording songs together—everything they feel is expressed in those songs, but the songs are not about their relationship. It’s not a traditional romance, but it’s intense. And they’re good pop songs, classic singer- songwriter stuff, soulfully rendered by Hansard. According to the making-of-the-movie features in the dvd, Irglova and Hansard really are friends who write songs together. The director didn’t want the camera to get in their faces and make them uncomfortable or self-conscious, so many of the scenes are done in long shots. The actors did not know where the camera was, and there was no clapper to tell them when they were rolling. Once has the feel of a documentary. It doesn’t strain for effects, but it’s quite wrenching and satisfying, and the song Falling Slowly really sticks to your brain pan. Recovery time: 5 hours.

This is why there can’t be a writers’ strike in the Philippines–there’s never a shortage of material. It grows on guava trees. Yesterday the television audience was riveted to the Senate hearing on the continuing ZTE broadband saga featuring the revelations of Rodolfo Lozada Jr. It’s a story that stretches over many genres: political thriller, conspiracy drama, police action, gangland drama, and comedy. And it’s got irony: a man agrees to toe the line, the same people he protects push him over the line.

The story combines elements from Academy Award-nominated movies. What would be a good title for the film?

a. There Will Be No Country For Atonement
b. There Will Be No Atonement For Old Men
c. No Country For Atonement, There Will Be Blood
d. I’m Not There, Sweeney Todd

What should be the tag line on the movie poster?

a. Moderate Greed Is The New Honesty.
b. There is no good or evil. Just moderate greed.
c. In the van no one can hear you scream.
d. Be disgusted. Be very disgusted.
e. But I don’t want to go to Cavite. Not that there’s anything wrong with Cavite.
f. Moderate: Verb or Adjective?