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L-R: PJ, Jessica, Deo, Roni, Allan, Von. Recorded on 9 Feb 2019.

Part 1

Part 2

We all knew it would not be a rousing ending. Since Season 5 the series ran out of book, and without George RR Martin’s world-building imagination, the show became fan-fiction. And not even as good as your fan-fiction. Yes, Game of Thrones descended into bad writing, character inconsistencies, sloppiness (Jaime’s hand growing back, etc) and a desperate race to the finish, but on balance it was a greatish show. For ten weeks a year it gave us something to talk about outside of our own lives (We especially needed that these last three years), and it turned non-readers into fantasy fans—no small feat. (Some years ago I made a vow to myself: GoT can NOT be the high point of my year or a substitute for a life.)

This last season reminds us of a fact we’d forgotten: The books are always better than the adaptation. So if you are dissatisfied with this last season, go to the books. Don’t hound GRRM for the next volumes, write them yourselves.

All I wanted in the finale was justice for Ghost.

Here’s the spoiler-laden full closure recap. If you’ve not seen the finale, stop right here.

Read the rest of this entry →

The Arambillet Building (1912) in Praza de Lugo (near FNAC and the Mercado). Designed by Antonio Lopez Hernandez and Julio Galan y Gonzalez Carvajal, Chief Architect for the province of La Coruña.

Casa Rey (1911) by Julio Galan, in the Crystal City on the Avenida Marina. These glassed-in balconies used to be the backs of the buildings. The glass also traps heat, very useful on cold winters. Eyebrows flew when an apartment in the building was recently sold for one million euro. I don’t know what it looks like inside, but if I had a million euro I sure would.

The RTVE office rising like a stately cake in the Mendez Nuñez Gardens near the port. There are patches of green all over the city, which has no more room to expand so older buildings are constantly renovated (but their facades are protected).

They couldn’t just leave a facade alone, they had to embellish embellish embellish. The bourgeoisie, flush with cash from their overseas ventures, wanted to show off.

The Wonenburger foundry opened in town and produced wrought-iron balconies for the early 20th century high-rises. La Coruna is surrounded by the sea so metal rusts quickly. The solution: layers of paint.

This is just the front door of Casa Tomas Da Torre (near Zara)

Easy to miss the imposing facade of 22 Calle Real in the middle of the shopping district unless you make it a habit to look up. It’s okay because the people are polite and will not bump into you.

11 San Nicolas reminds me of a hot guy who acts like he has no idea how hot he is, which makes him even hotter.

Thanks to my extremely knowledgeable guide, Margarita Parada, for pointing out the architectural beauties I would’ve missed by looking straight ahead.

My host Yolanda Castaño, founder and director of Residencia Literaria 1863, is a major Galician poet, translator, sometime TV presenter, and tireless promoter of Galician culture. She gave a talk at the University of Santiago de Compostela, a pleasant 45-minute drive from La Coruña. I tagged along.

Yolanda’s latest book, her twelfth, is a collaboration with 40 Galician comic book artists. They interpreted her poems in their own styles, some tackling the entire piece, some focusing on a line or two. The result is beautiful to look at, though I can’t read it with my kindergarten Spanish. In the first place it is in Galician, one of the official languages of Spain, which has much in common with Portuguese.

Afterwards we walked around the medieval town, which pilgrims have converged on since the 9th century when it was believed that the remains of St. James were buried here. The earliest pilgrims walked from France across the Pyrenees to the Cathedral, a journey which took months or years. The Camino de Santiago today has many routes of various degrees of difficulty. The scallop shells embedded in the stones are the symbol of the walk—the early pilgrims took them as souvenirs, and used them for eating and drinking.

It’s easy to imagine what the town must’ve looked like in the Middle Ages, with its narrow cobblestone streets, bars, and souvenir shops selling jewelry made of jet and silver. And excellent bookstores. During our tour we ran into half a dozen writers.

The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the end of the pilgrimage, is undergoing renovation.

Visitors line up to embrace the image of Saint James behind the altar, and ask him to grant their requests.

Cold, blustery day, brief rainshowers and the possibility of you and your umbrella getting Mary Poppins-ed.

I am at Residencia 1863, a literary residency run by the Galician poet Yolanda Castaño. The apartment is in a 19th century building in the old town center. It used to be a photography studio. The former occupants left the sentry on the balcony.

Look, a Notting Hill homage.

This is how I met my cat Drogon. “I’m just a cat, lying in front of a large, ungainly cat, asking her to feed him.” And provide a litterbox. And regular vet visits. And expensive stuff to sharpen my claws on. And an online talk show I can appear on.

This is the work table, already colonized by my stuff. There’s a working typewriter. I miss typewriters: you had to pound the keys so your writing had conviction. Erasing was a pain, though.

The neighborhood is very quiet and it’s a five minute walk to the sea. Current temperature is 11 degrees, a cool respite from microwave Manila.

Speaking of cats, there’s one on the fountain in Plaza del Humor.

Down the street, the Praza de Maria Pita. Maria Pita led the defence of La Coruña during an English attack in the 16th century.

Artwork by Jason Moss. Used with permission.

The Defenestrations
Chapter 5C
by Roni Matienzo

For mature audiences

1.

“Ma’am?” Melissa tried to make sense of what Teepee was saying. Then she laughed at herself for trying to understand the insane.

“Hija, muchas gracias for everything. I need to go as I’m famished!” Teepee left before Melissa could say anything.

Teepee proceeded to the über chichi Chez Manille in the next building and ordered enough food to feed an orphanage. She was staring at a head of salmon when one of the waiters approached her. “Uhm, Ma’am, is there anything I can help you with? It’s just that you have been here for four hours…Perhaps you want dessert? Or the bill?” It occurred to Teepee that Inigo never paid for his meals, there were people who vied for the honor. She had connections, her family had influence, therefore she was an influencer and could refuse to pay for a whole salmon when they’d only served half.

“Get me the manager, gar?on. I want to do an ex-deal.” She didn’t actually know what an ex-deal was, she only heard the term from Iñigo. Where was her bag, did she leave it in the car? She didn’t know where her keys were, either. Maybe Claudio had them. Claudio, her darling husband.

“Hi! Teepee, nice to see you again, amiga,” Lee the manager said. Knowing the names of all 500 members of Chez Manille and acting like they were all his close friends was his schtick. The Villa-Reals were old rich, but according to the grapevine the family fortunes were dwindling.

Illustration for Faust by Harry Clarke, @publicdomainrev

2.
Teepee was paying him no heed as she was distracted by a fly that had been buzzing around her head for the last hour. Maybe it was Iñigo trying to tell her something. She would give everything she had just to have her baby back again. “Amiga, is something wrong?”

“I’m not paying your restaurant a cent. I’m a Villa-Real and I won’t pay for trash.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It means that you should comp the meal since the food did not taste as good as advertised, and I won’t badmouth your restaurant in exchange. Also, your spittle is all over my Chanel sunglasses and they might be damaged from all the acid in your personality.”

“What the…? Just pay your packing bill! Pay. Your. Packing. Bill!” In his rage he forgot to enunciate the f-word and shed his pseudo-American accent altogether.

Teepee saw the fly enter Lee’s mouth.

“Are you just going to stand there? Where’s your wallet? Pay up!”

Teepee stared in horror as the fly multiplied and swarmed all over Lee’s face, then his body. The swarm ate all of Lee even as he continued to shout invectives at her. A single fly separated from the body and flew towards her. It landed on her vintage Patek Philippe watch. She took it off and threw it across the room. Another fly tried to land on her Harry Winston ring. She took it off and threw it as well. The swarm of flies that were formerly Lee caught it mid-air. She took off everything she could take off, including the La Perla set that she had made-to-measure. She dashed out the door before the swarm could eat her as well.

Artwork by Egon Schiele, @WikiCommons

3.

His name was Apinya Chadesakan. I learned his name post-coitus, after I took advantage of the hotel service that the Tawan Spa offered. God knows I tried to resist, but it was so long since I felt like a beautiful woman, and each smile he gave me told me that I was. I felt like this was how an x-rated high school romance should be, and I found myself addicted to the way he made me feel. I could go on and on about his smile, the way his eyes disappeared, the way he touched me, but to talk about him is to end it. I knew it was not love, I’m not a fool.

It ended when I received a condescending response to my email telling him I was pregnant. I was so angry I wished I was in Bangkok so I could push him out his apartment window.

Book cover from @publicdomainrev

4.

Melissa and her boss Nick Romero were outside their building when they saw a very naked Teepee running and laughing. “Oh my God! Boss, that’s Iñigo’s mother! This could be a PR nightmare! Help me get her!”

Melissa felt she should be given stock options, the way she’d saved the company’s ass today. Running after a crazy woman in the middle of BGC. They caught her, but could not find out where she left her clothes or her shoes. What were they supposed to do with the crazy woman?

What happens next?

A. Teepee is admitted to a psychiatric hospital.
B. Teepee is locked up at home until she comes to her senses.

Tune in next week for the continuation.