We don’t know, but many years ago a psychic told us that Noah’s Ark landed on Mount Arayat in Pampanga.
“Umm…not Mount Ararat in Turkey?” we asked.
“Mount Arayat,” she declared. “The scribes made a typo.”
History is written by the victors, and Senator Juan Ponce Enrile has just published his memoir. The senator has had many enemies, but he has outfoxed them all—by defeating them outright, by turning them to the Enrile side, or by outlasting them.
LOOPER starring Juan Ponce Enrile, our column at InterAksyon.com
Our guest is Jaemark Tordecilla, sports editor (InterAksyon.com) and blogger (Fire Quinito). Listen to or download the podcast here. You can also subscribe to the podcast via iTunes.
For this week’s podcast quiz we’re giving away a copy of A Hologram for the King by Dave Eggers.
A Hologram for the King is available at National Bookstores.
During the interview Jaemark cites several things about Philippine sports that have to change. Name three of them. Post your answers in Comments.
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The winners of last week’s quiz (You need to read Chang-Rae Lee) are scientist, nativereader, rusticrouge, sunflowii and jaime. Please post your full names (They won’t be published) in Comments and we’ll alert you when your prizes are ready.
Update: The bookstore has had to reorder copies of The Surrendered by Chang-Rae Lee. Good for reading, annoying for our winners who will now have to wait for their books. Apologies. If you post your Philippine addresses, we can send them to you via Air21 when they arrive. Thank you.
Update on the update: The shipment from Penguin was delayed due to Sandy, but the books should get here within the month. We will send them to you as soon as we get them (assuming you gave us your local addresses). Thanks for waiting.
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That’s it for the first season of the weekly podcast. We’ll be back in one month.
Wilson Phillips at SM Arena. Photos by JZ.
You imagine that the soundtrack of the movie of your life will be composed of obscure masterpieces by singer-songwriters too pure for this world, quirky B-sides, and songs so cheeseball they could never be cool, ensuring paradoxically that they are cool. In fact the songs that trigger random episodes of time travel to the early 1990s are atrocities by Vanilla Ice or MC Hammer, or Color Me Badd with two D’s.
Or Wilson Phillips. They weren’t terrible. They weren’t great, but they weren’t terrible. They had no illusions of genius, they knew their shtick: cute daughters of famous musicians. My sister had their first album; she was 12 and exactly their target market. For the record, if this were their heyday you couldn’t drag me to a Wilson Phillips show. My 2012 self would loop back in time and shoot my 1990 self before that happened (Watch Looper!). But with the passage of the decades comes perspective—seeing One Direction elevates my opinion of the old boy bands—and I loved the movie Bridesmaids with its climactic Wilson Phillips cameo. So I ended up taking my sister to the Wilson Phillips concert last week. The last time Cookie and I went to a concert together, Ricky Martin was still officially straight.
Ayyyy foreheads!
May I say how glad I am that SM Arena at MOA exists? I had resolved, after the last time I spent five hours standing in a sweltering crowd of strangers, that I would never watch a concert in a field or parking lot again (of course there will be exceptions). I can sit, I can walk around, but I cannot stand still.
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