Violent or extravagant speech or writing; rave. A place where I visit and publish thoughts every now and then, (my daily record of good and bad memories, especially my personal record of events, experiences, and observations; my journal of music, bicycling stories, and other stuffs.)
Monday, October 30, 2006
Some blisters revealed.....
As I was writing this on drafts, I was also having a cup of coffee and imagining things and thinking some good and bright ideas about bicycling and duties and other stuffs. If I could find time later since I don't have a PC of my own, I'd go typing on PC rental shop and posts this in 30 minutes out of a P10 budget. That's the joy of beeing poor and living in some depressed area, although you don't have a lot of money and beautiful things of this world, you have stuffs within yourself like nice thoughts and good ideas which you can use for connecting to other people. Or greeting someone with an encouragement of a simple pat on the back. Believe it or not, I don't even have a cellular phone. Job? Who needs a job when no one accepts you? But, I do survive using good and bright ideas. What do I have then? A pink bicycle which I use to travel around town and pedaling here and there, some music tapes, this blogsite you're visiting, old memories, Brethrens, Families, and Friends. People and things which reminds me of, "Hey, you're much better!" What an encouragement prep, talking to myself. Anyway, from all this things, there is a "Light" which me and all the Brethrens know and hoping to see at the end of the long and narrow and winding road.
Last week before the "Let the dead bury their dead" rants was written, I've made some researching on the pages of "Believer" magazine's first issue. Got some ideas but didn't materialize due to hectic schedules. "Bury their dead" was written like a camera flash snapping in the dead of the night. Then Thanksgiving(Saturday) came and met face to face with a young lady, one of my mentors in this blog-making thing. She is Batangweirdo and she voted this blogsite for Filipino Blog of The Week (Week 27) voting game and made it to 4th place.
A big "Thanks!" to those people who already voted this blogsite including Batangweirdo.
Last night, I've discovered Myembrolang's real identity. My first time in her blogsite was last May. The time when I was still in my blog-making formative days. And in those days, her comment box entries tells about curiousity. Lots of entrants puzzled about her identity. Even Tadakatsu(spilled to me) wanted to know who is Myembrolang. I don't know why, maybe because they're both using "Pot" and "Singko" templates on their blogsites.(Laughs!) But, I know now that Myembrolang once had a dog with dollar sign spots and calling Myembrolang on her surname is null and void. With the rainy season, give Myembrolang an umbrella and you will get a hard time, and if you're lucky, you'll end up on her blogsite stories along with her photos, crafts and crayons.(esep!esep!laughs!)
Anyway, here's a song set on a cartoon video about people getting harsh with themselves. About people who won't accept realities in life. About people who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. A song from R.E.M. or Rapid Eye Movement. A rockwave band in the 80's who gave us the tune "It's The End of The World (I feel fine)," "I Remember California," "Driver 8," "Stand," "The One I Love," "Orange Crush," "Superman," and "Losing My Religion." Off their 1988 "Green" album, here's an R.E.M. song called "World Leader Pretend."
World Leader Pretend R.E.M.
I sit at my table and wage war on myself It seems like it's all...it's all for nothing I know the barricades, and I know the mortar in the wall breaks I recognize the weapons, I used them well
This is my mistake. Let me make it good I raised the wall, and I will be the one to knock it down
I've a rich understanding of my finest defenses I proclaim that claims are left unstated, I demand a rematch I decree a stalemate I divine my deeper motives I recognize the weapons I've practiced them well. I fitted them myself
It's amazing what devices you can sympathize...empathize This is my mistake. Let me make it good I raised the walls, and I will be the one to knock it down
Reach out for me and hold me tight. Hold that memory Let my machine talk to me. Let my machine talk to me
This is my world And I am the world leader pretend This is my life And this is my time I have been given the freedom To do as I see fit It's high time I've razed the walls That I've constructed
It's amazing what devices you can sympathize...emapathize This is my mistake. Let me make it good I raised the walls, and I will be the one to knock it down
You fill in the mortar. You fill in the harmony You fill in the mortar. I raised the walls And I'm the only one I will be the one to knock it down
microdot sleeve: An old saying: A-anhin pa ang damo kung patay na ang kabayo?
Six feet under with hypocrisy.
Earlier this afternoon at Mcdo, while fumbling on my things just after I arrived, I've learned that Bro. Leon and Bro. Nilo were watching something on The Crime Suspense channel. It was a story about three bank robbers caught in a security camera of the bank they were robbing. Wearing jackets and masks with rifles in their hands, they did it and got away with a lot of money. But later with the investigation, they were caught, faced trials and sentenced with life terms. How? A witness lead the investigators to one of the robbers. "Who's the witness?", you asks. Not, "Who?" but "What?" A pair of jeans which one of the bank robbers wearing during the heist. Nice investigative work. Reminds me of the serial killer and the investigator days. Then I've changed channels and found "Cujo." A classic horror film based on the novel (a pocket book which I once had) of Stephen King. A film about a dog beaten by some bats and went berserk.
Anyway, next week will be All Saint's Day and All Soul's Day. There will be a lot of flowers, candles and prayers for the departed. And I'm glad I will never be a part of that old tradition when people visit their departed friends and families graves.
Think about this.....
Do dead people need prayers?
Do dead people need those candles and flowers?
Imagine this.....
A man had sinned for all his life, and after he died, people would go and pray for him.
Will he be save by other people's prayers?
With all those flowers which people called respect, will do nothing for the dead. People should respect their lovedones when they are still alive and people should pray for the living and not the dead. There are two things which I still remember from that old tradition beside people's hypocrisy or culture of pretense: kite flying and an old tree in a cemetery where I carved some thoughts from the heart.
Here's Daniel Johns and the rest of Silverchair. Three kids from Australia who made it to the top. They were just sixteen years old when their debut album "Frogstomp" was released in 1995. I remember some years ago, they did a show here in the Philippines at the U.P. theater. Off their 1996 album "Freak Show," here's "Cemetery," a song about a phone call away, about an escort service and the red light district. Plus a bonus video "Tomorrow" from their 1995 debut album "Frogstomp."
Cemetery Daniel Johns Silverchair
Need a change Not to imitate But to irritate All the ones who hate
I may be late Always seem to get the wrong date Well, I guess it's fate
I live in a cemetery Full of good will and integrity You see, I have no specialty
Here's your warning I'll give you click click boom
I live in a cemetery I need a change Not to imitate But to irritate
I live in a cemetery
Tomorrow Daniel Johns Silverchair
It's twelve o'clock, and it's a wonderful day. I know you hate me, but I'll ask anyway. Won't you come with me, to a place in a little town.
The only way to get there's to go straight down. There's no bathroom, and there is no sink. The water out of the tap is very, hard to drink, Very hard to drink.
You, wait 'til tomorrow You, wait 'til tomorrow
You say that money, isn't everything, But I'd like to see you live without it. You think you can keep on going living like a king. Oohh babe, but I strongly doubt it.
Very hard to drink.
You gonna wait 'til, fat boy, Fat boy, wait until tomorrow
Just an average guy who loves talking about the arts, bicycling, the mind, music, stuffs within our hearts, the kid inside us, things that you don't usually spill out to others, some articles in the paper, things that we see everyday yet we shrugged away.
Time is never time at all, you can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth. Today is the greatest day I've ever known, can't wait for tommorow. Bored by the chore of saving face. This is The Smashing Pumpkins Song and Lyrics Quiz on a Hangman Game. Enjoy playing by the rules.
If I had to mention all the bands who have in one way or another played a big part in my musically inclined life, I would have a long boring lists on the sidebar panel there wouldn't be room for tags and other stuffs.
A collection of images and lips wearing cheeses, cracking fragile smiles, grinning and laughing, pulling hairs down-over a frowning sigh inside the camera's eye.
BrethrensFamiliesFriends
SomewhereinLondon
RememberingTheAlphabet
I wonder what happened to A to Z Music Shop in Anonas, Cubao? A place where I usually hang-out with friends back in the 80's. A shop where you can find vinyls straight from U.K. labels released by bands like The Dead Car, Xymox, Stiff Little Fingers, Bauhaus, The Dead Can Dance, Lick The Tins, Sham69, Tones on Tail, Balaam and The Angel, It Bites, and a lot more.
QuotesfromTheFamous
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.
I love bicycle riding today because I loved bicycle riding as a boy, and that's all there is to it.
If I only have kids now, I want them to love riding tomorrow, so I get them on bikes today. It's that simple. That somehow, they will learn how to balance or pedal and build memories. That's the key to it; building memories. That's what will keep the wheels turning.
There's no problem in the world you and a bunch of friends can't solve by talking it over on a long bicycle ride.
There's something special about pedaling triple digits---riding more than most people like to ride in a single day.
Races are won or lost in the mountains. So are charity rides, coffee shop out-and-backs, and solo rides when the hill from hell gets the best of you---again.
Climbing is cool; endurance impressive. But to really WOW your friends, there's nothing like a locomotive sprint. There's some truth, of course, to the old saw that sprinters are born, not made.
When removing your pedals, put your chain on the big ring to keep your hands from hitting the teeth if your wrench slips.
True and tension your wheels every other month.
How is bicycling like a religion? You feel guilty when you don't go.
In cycling, your chances of seeing barbaric violence or bloodshed aren't good. A crash or busted collarbone is about all you'll get.
4 Sounds that are louder to you than anyone else.
1. Your cleats sliding across the sidewalk.
2. The sound of your collarbone snapping.
3. Chainsuck.
4. Chain link popping.
Looking down and realizing you've been in the big ring the whole ride.
4 Satisfying hurts.
1. Sore quads the day after a hard ride.
2. Bruises earned while mastering a skill.
3. Sprinting.
4. Minor injuries received during successful repairs.
Gravel is no place to turn. Stay straight until you're out of it.
4 Moments of absolute clarity during a bridge.
1. Knowing you can.
2. Not knowing if you can---but going anyway.
3. Catching them quietly, sitting up and waiting for them to notice you.
4. Gaining, gaining, gaining---then getting stuck, dangling off their backs, dying, unable to get close and refusing to quit.
Spend one day of the week pedaling faster, not riding faster.
On hard accelerations, avoid the common mistake of holding your breath.
Don't move your weight too far forward. Your shoulders should not go past the front wheel axle.
If you're light, you spin and get out of the saddle a lot. If you're heavy, you push bigger gears and sit.
Climbing is a skill filled with subtlety and specialty---two lightweights can be as different as a sprinter is from a time trialist. If you understand the fine points of how your body should be matched to a climbing style, you'll ascend with more power and confidence.
Say this three times before your next climb: Shift to the gear before you need it.
Ride rough pavement with your hands on top of the bar. Use your arms, not the saddle, to support your weight.
Trust your bike.
In a pinch, you can use the handle of a hub's quick-release for a tire lever.
If your shifting is sluggish... from high to low in front or from low to high in rear, you have gunk in the housings.
Because we can't stalk things anymore. It's a molecular, biochemical instinct that is stifled by modern life. When you're biking you're moving fast and rapid motion harkens back to when our ancestors had to catch food to eat it---chase it down, just like predatory animals. Every gland in the body is in a high state of alert. You experience hightened awareness. You're smarter and more skilled. It's a primitive need within all of us.
Why do we really, really, really like dropping our best friends? Residual monkey instincts. In monkey and ape societies, young males learn who is stronger by play. That keeps them from hurting each other when they need to contest for power later. outsprinting or outclimbing your friends is the same thing.
Why do we feel superior to nonriders? There's something called the cavalier dynamic. Dating back many centuries, a guy on a horse was superior to foot troops. There was a characteristic disdain from the mounted cavalier to the pikeman---we are fast, we are fleet and you are not.
Why is 90 rpm the magic cadence? Science doesn't know exactly why were most efficient at this leg speed. Cyclists, not laboratories, determined that 90 is best. Riders have tried variations since bikes were first raced, and it always comes back to 90 rpm, give or take 5. Lab geeks do know that 90 isn't the most efficient in terms of oxygen consumption. But in cycling there must be something about the muscles and their ability to produce force that's more important than how much oxygen they're using. It's a complex issue.
Why is one bike never enough? Because, before they could make tools and weapons, our evolving hominid ancestors had to stock up on sharp rocks whenever they could. Unfortunately, when it formed these survival instincts your body never anticipated that at some point it would be easy for you to have multiples of things you value. In other words: It's beyond your control. What better justification for a new bike.
Shave your legs. It won't really make your bike faster, but it'll make you feel faster. Because when air goes over your bare skin you feel faster.
Why do we emulate pros with our equipment and clothing? It's not about imitation. It's about belonging. You could wear tube socks and have just as much fun on a ride, but pro costuming makes you part of something larger than yourself. This drive for connection isn't caused by or limited to our media drenched society: A lot of people in primitive countries wear, say a 49ers T-shirt even though they've never seen a football game. Self-enhancement through this kind of performance art is a basic urge.
It's hard to wait for mail while the open road sings... ...a song that calls you out again and again. Fast wheels beneath your frame, no commitments and wind through your spokes---a catchy tune. But waiting is what happens when bad timing leaves you hanging with weary mind hoping for a letter that may change your life.
Cycling's special treasure. You have legs like no other athlete. Cyclists develop a split running down the back of the calf that can't be found in other sports. When you see that V, you know the calf has been worked by riding.
Caffeine can help your body tap the energy contained in stored fat, conserving your primary muscle fuel.
Climbing makes you stronger faster than any other type of riding. Include at least one hilly course per week.
Going hard from the start of every ride isn't training, it's cruelty to muscles. Start a training ride at a gentle spin.
Avoid total lay-offs. In only 12 days you'll go halfway from your trained state to the level you'd be if you never trained at all.
Your clothing should never be more impressive than your riding skills.
Show up for a group ride with a bike that needs a bottom bracket overhaul or similar major repair. Be sure to promise to have it fixed in 5 minutes, then make 'em wait 2 hours. Everyone should be that person once. It's called empathy.
Ride with slower people. Savor the scenery and companionship. Offer tips on how to improve. Then smoke 'em on a hill. Just kidding.
Race. It's fun. It's scary. It's so fun it's scary. Oh, yeah--there's no better way to improve fitness and bike handling, either.
Ride a century, because triple-digit days separate us from the civilians. They can't even imagine it. Done one? Try a double. Already logged 200 kms in one day? OK, you win.
Turn on a spouse, a friend, a kid, or a neighbor to cycling. You're a disciple, so enlarge the flock.
Run errands on your bike while wearing street clothes. Remind yourself--and everyone who sees you--that bikes are not just toys.
Wear a helmet. I want you to keep ridin'.
The hill is a giant. Attack its head, not its foot.
Not replacing a borrowed tube is a good way to lose riding partners.
Cleaning your bike once a week is good. Cleaning it after every ride is grounds for therapy.
Is it strange to sleep with your bike? No, it's not exactly strange. That's not the right word for it. What is it exactly? Hmmmm. Oh yeah, it's friggin' incomprehensible.
More speed or more control? Control proves to be much faster than picking gravel out of your glutes while you wait for a replacement bike.
Speed is just a number. Control has many dimensions---holding your line as straight as a rail as a car barrels by a foot to your left, slowing down just enough so the light turns green as you reach it without having to unclip, being more graceful on two wheels than you ever are on two feet.
Rants by Nakabike @ 7:11 PM
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