The Un-Official SWC Creativity Center

Revive the Blog!!!

2005-02-27T05:02:00.001-08:00

I'm alive again. Well, almost. BTW, I'm wuitting my dayjob.

Revive the Blog!!!

2005-02-27T05:02:00.000-08:00

I'm alive again. Well, almost. BTW, I'm wuitting my dayjob.

New Short Story: A Banquet

2004-11-10T10:18:00.000-08:00

Hello peeps! i decided to can my previous short story for the time being in favor of this new one. The previous one needed more time in development and my outline for it could easily encompass a novle's length. Anyway, i wrote this new one to replace it. Enjoy!
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A Banquet

He had it coming. Had he not been too nosy, he might still be alive today. I had no choice but to kill him. A violent man I am not. I have killed but a mere person—a congressman perhaps, but still just another man. One life means little in the grand scheme of things. “When a tree falls in the forest? Does it make a sound?” environmentalists would say. Likewise, when a man falls by my bullet, does it stir the order of the universe? I am but the avatar of death, a messenger of nature—an archangel who brought about the inevitable dissolution of but one politician whose selfishness I found much too vaxing to be left alone.

Congressman Camandag was a friend, a comrade. It matters not how I knew him, all you need know is that he was a friend. I knew him to be a crook, but in his thievery he had, for a long time, never wronged me. In fact he was closest among my companions. Such is a friendship brought about by a stake in the numbers game: a common stake in the business of defrauding the needy. I needed his protection, he needed me to run shop and cover up his tracks. It was foolish of him then, to antagonize me.

Familiarity bred contempt, as it always did. The numbers game was profitable, and he wanted a greater share. But I still ran the shop, and he would be nothing without me. It was only proper that I, who stood at the frontline of the operations, get the bigger share.

Yet he refused to renege upon his demand. Such is the behavior of a man driven by greed. All of a sudden everything we had built up for years: our friendship, our empire, had been for naught. All because he wanted more—as if he did not have enough to steal in his day-job.

It was for this reason that I proceeded to invite him to my banquet of death. I told him, untruthfully, that I was prepared to not only give him a greater share but to double the amount he had demanded. To consummate our deal, I was to hold a banquet in honor of the occasion. However, I would only sign the deal if we were to be alone.
Now, he was a shrewd man and any other less subtle means of murder would have revealed my plans in an instant. Yet to Filipinos there is nothing which clouds the judgment more than a hearty feast. Put a Filipino in any party and his brains dissolve into oblivion—promise him money at the same time and the dissolved remains of the said brain shall vaporize into thin air.

And come alone he did—he was always too trusting of me. Had I been his wife he may have doubted my motives. But I was his best friend, a comrade from time long past. We met at 9pm in a gazebo at the Gourmet Café on the way to Tagaytay, where we were to spend the night in what I promised him to be an unforgettable night of Romance his wife could never hope to give.

“Julia!” He called me, with great warmth, as he always did. “Kumusta ka na?”

“Mabuti naman po!” I replied. “How was looting today?”

“Hay, boring pa rin. There is only so much one can steal through the manipulation of the law. Para yumaman talaga, one has to enter into the illegal trades. Di ba?”
I chuckled at his words. It never ceased to amaze me how frank he was concerning larceny.

“O, gutom na gutom na ako! Let’s get this show on the road, ika nga.”
So we did. The waiter led us to our gazebo-dining area which was pitch-black at this time in the night. It was just as I had ordered him to fix it: fully laden with fine Italian pasta and luscious wines.

“Anak nang teteng Julia! Bongga ah!” He exclaimed.

“Siyempre naman, para namang wala tayong pinagdaanan!”

I then proceeded to fill his cup with wine and feed him the pasta bite by sumptuous bite. The fool suspected nothing as he proceeded to become roaring drunk in an hour’s time.

“Walang hiya ka naman Julia! Pipirma lang ako nang kontratamay kasamang toma pa!”

“Of course. Why expect less from your friend?”

We went on for a good half hour more, exchanging small nothings and such, until the time had come for the finale. I opened up a bottle of fine cognac which he had loved so much and poured it into an empty cup I had reserved by my side all night. I offered it to him: “a toast to our friendship, may its fruits be ever greater in the years to come!”

Yet he was a bit reluctant to take the cup. “Teka lang. Bakit parang linalasing mo ata ako? Di kaya may lason na iyan?”

“Aba wala ah!” And I drank from the cup to show my “sincerity.”

“A, patawad. Dapat hindi kita pinagdudahan, kaibigan.”

Then I handed him the cup, only in his case I made sure he drank from the side opposite that I had drank from, for I had laced the rim along the opposite side from which I had drank with a potent venom which killed slowly. For the first hour or so the victim will merely fall asleep, but he will soon cease to breathe soon after. It began to take effect, and soon he was asleep. The waiter suspected nothing, after all he had been drinking all night, and I merely asked their assistance to let me take the congressman to my car so that we may check into the Taal Vista hotel.

I drove him instead to the Star Highway towards Batangas. I planned to dump him somewhere along the highway then drive on to my beach house in Lobo Batangas where I could have a nice long vacation.

Alas, it was not to be so. I had been unfortunate enough to experience engine trouble along the highway. The idea was to dump him the speed away. I wanted his body to rot in the forested area by the highway. I wanted it discovered for all to see, for people to realize what happened to thieves who refused to honor their fellow thieves.

The way things went though I was going to get caught. Walking the length of the highway while pushing the car would make me seem too suspicious, especially when I crossed the toll gate. Thanks to our brilliant president’s plan for a “strong republic” security was very tight around this highway as it had great potential as a criminal transport route. I would rather die than be caught. All I had with me was my lighter, and nothing more. So I pondered burning the body.

I decided to do it off the side of the highway, near the area where trees still grew and goats would graze upon the grass. The congressman was not as heavy as you probably think for he was a thin man, but carrying him was still quite a chore. Nonetheless, it was a chore I had succeeded in doing many times before when he’d get drunk during parties. As soon as we reached the forest, I picked a spot where we would not be seen and nothing save the congressman would catch fire. I lit the lighter, close to his body.

Then something I had not calculated upon happening happened: he caught fire very fast—too fast for me to retract my arm to safety. All the alcohol he had entered his bloodstream and made his highly combustible. Soon I was burning with him. I tried rolling on the ground but it was futile—the flames burned far too fast. I burned… and burned… and burned…

…And I have been burning ever since.

History of SWC

2004-10-29T07:31:00.000-07:00

The SWC has a history which, contrary to popular belief, extends farther back than the beach incident of 2001. Even before that, a bunch of like-minded single males grouped together united by a common interest in philosophy, anime, and fine beer. We were also hopeless with women.

The beach trip was the first time we took an out-of-town trip together. During day one of that trip we nearly drowned when the water suddenly got deeper without us knowing. We survived by using our wits, willpower, and boundless youthful stamina as we swam back to the shore. From that brush with death, we bacame closer than ever, the same way war veterans who have survived death become brothers.

We went on to celebrate the remaining days of the beach trip by drinking beer as if it were water and proudly waving the flag of our SSB status (single since birth). From that point on, the SMTT, predecessor to the SWC was born. SMTT stood for "Samahang Mga Torpe't Tomador." We changed it in 2003 after four out of five of the core members had been "basted." Technically, once you're "basted" you're no longer "torpe." So we changed it to SWC: "Samahang Walang Chicks."

The next plan for the SWC is to change the name yet again to SWN, or "Samahang Walang Novio/Novia" in order to meet the needs of political correctness. So far, this change has not been acted upon because we've been spending too much time having beer, nuts, and watching samurai movies. After that, we will begin actually doing the fandubs of Akazukin Chacha that we've put off for so long because no one can voice ChaCha (hello? we're all guys). We'll just try our best to sound feminine I guess.

Anyway, there's the quick history lesson. My beer's already cold.

-Mig. T.

Memories

2004-10-27T17:32:00.000-07:00

It was so long ago, yet in me time has never passed The memory has faded, but my feelings are still there I wonder if you remember those times we never had Our memories of what never were Then we always thought about tomorrow Today I always think about the past I have kept myself within and have fought never to change Hoping that you would remember and comeback These words have no meaning now Yet they were all that mattered then However as time has proven It is those words that I never said… Memories that never were

Nuts

2004-10-24T02:11:00.000-07:00

We were hanging out yesterday and this kind of dialogue occured. It's not the exact words or even the exact sequence but you'll get the idea. I'll not even designate role playing here since I can't remember who said what. For those who don't get it, well... sorry!

Before dinner:

Hey let's eat first
Ok, where are the nuts?
Screw the nuts, let's eat dinner first
That didn't sound good

After dinner:

Ok, where are the nuts?
Well, we only have little nuts left in the house
Ok, so let's grab his nuts
That didn't sound good!

While watching a movie in house:

So let's grab the beer
Ok, but let's pop some corn and grab the nuts
Huh? That didn't sound good

After some time:

Where're the nuts? let's eat the nuts?
Hey (name deleted), let's eat your nuts...
That didn't sound good

Ok, you get the picture!!!

Weirdness

2004-10-20T21:02:00.000-07:00

Labsong...

Message:

I finally realized that if one were to paste together random lines from Parokya ni Edgar's songs, you'd end up with a really bad love story about an ugly female and a distraught male...

For example:

1) Minsan hindi ko maintindihan... (Halaga)
2) ...bakit ang pangit pangit mo.. (The Crush)
3) ...hindi ka naman kasi ganun kaganda, di ba? (Maniwala ka Sana)

4) Sa itsura mong bakulaw... (The Crush)
5) ...ang bawat kilos mo'y nakakapanibago... (Maniwala ka Sana)
6)...parang naglalakad na lindol. (The Crush)

7) Wag mo na sana akong pahirapan pa... (Wag Mo Na Sana)
8) Hindi na ako naniniwala... (My Shattered Belief)
9) Ako'y napaisip at biglang napatingin... (Maniwala ka Sana)
10) ..sa kutis mong kulay champorado... ...huwag ka nang magpapanggap na ikaw ay isang dalagang ubod nang ganda... (Silvertoes)

11) "...Sino ba 'tong mukhang gago?" (Harana)
12) ...Nasira na ata ang ulo ko kaiisip ko sa iyo. Kahit saan tumingin ay mukha mo ang nakikita ko... (Maniwala ka Sana)
13) ...basura nang iba ang siyang pinapangarap ako... (Halaga, I altered the line a bit)

14) ...Hinding-hindi ako in love sa iyo. Papagulpi na kita sa gwardiyang may batuta. (Silvertoes)
15) Naala mo pa ba nung... (Buloy)
16) ...ikaw ay sagsaan ko? (Silvertoes)

17) Hoy,hoy,hoy,hoy,hoy,hoy... (Mr. Suave)
18) Para kang kape. 'Di ka nagpapatulog... (Ted Hannah)
19) Katawan mo'y parang tambyolo. (The Crush)
20) Gusto kong tumakbo palayo... ...Okatokat, nakakapraning! (Okatokat OP Theme)

21) ...May ibubulong ako sa iyo: p-t-ng -n- mo! (Parang Ayoko Na)
22) Are you a man? (Bigotilyo, Hidden Track 3)
23) ...yes... (same as above)
24 ..oh. You come here often? HAHAHAHA! (same as above)

...and it could go on, good thing I'm not that bored. Putting together lines from songs into stupid narratives is actually good mental exercise. Try it out.

I hate communists...

2004-10-18T04:11:00.000-07:00

Don't you? They kill just about everyone they don't get along with. They claim to do it all for the
people. in fact, they just want the opposition gone so they can get more money for themselves.

SWC Plenary Meeting

2004-10-16T20:21:00.000-07:00

We must set a plenary meeting for Saturday. Buzz me if you got suggestions.

Some poetry and Announcements

2004-10-13T07:14:00.000-07:00

Hey, SWC members and non-members, I've decided to do a couple of things:

1) Re-work "Infinitesimal Point" from ground up. I'm basically changing the POV from 3rd to 1st person.

For those curious as to who my characters were patterned after, here's a rundown:
A) Rommie: Based on Jay R. He's a Driver/bodyguard/butler who has a blackbelt in Judo and Karate and a degree from the Ivor Spencer School for Butlers (this school really exists). He has a high salary because of his expertise.
B) Aaron: Angelo F. with a slight attitude problem. Actually, later on he's nothing like Angelo at all, if all goes as planned.
C) Melanie: My prom date. Like my prom date, she has a morbid sense of humor behind her cheerful face, and is also a genius.
D) Ya Bin: Migs L. He owns the famous "Fu Tang Bakery and Siopao Haus" in Quiapo Manila. He's the informant of Jose Rios and his knowledge of underworld activities makes him an invaluable ally (please don't ask why I made him own a siopao shop). i haven't introduced him yet.
E) High P. :Based on JF and my prom date. She's the AI routine that helps the heroes unravel the mystery of the Infinitesimal Point.

Anyway, onto other news...

2) SWC members who want the Account info for this site may tell me via YM. That way you guys can post too.

Anyway, here's a Poem I submitted to Poetry Class. I wanna burn it. Help me burn it please.

The Neophyte

By Miguel S. Tensuan

Among the masters I claim no likeness

To do so would be sacrilege on high.

Compared to theirs my poetry's vastness

Devoid of charm and better left to die.

My mind's untrained in the songs of the soul

And ignorant of the hymns of the heart,

My words fall short of noble beauty's goal—

Much better called mere excrement than art.

But of the Skaldic Mead[1] I seek some share—

In this goal perhaps, I presume too much.

For poems must catch eternity's glare

In ways possible for mortals to clutch.

But the masters have shown it can be done,

That the mind can partake of deific grace.

Knowing this I dream to be with them one,

Or that at least I learn some of their ways.

In Norse mythology, this refers to a legendary drink which Odin stole from the giants and passed on to humans. It had the power to make anyone who drinks it a poet.

Welcome To The SWC Creativity Center

2004-10-11T09:37:00.000-07:00

Welcome one and all. This blog is dedicated to the SWC and its creative endeavors. Every now and then, works in creative writing and such will appear in this site. Also, exclusive content for SWC members will be available as well.

SWC's Current Projects:

1) Banbasaber: Legend of the Courageous Halfling (A Fantasy Manga/Story about the exploits of the legendary Banba, hero of the halflings)
-Progress report: Basic mythology set by Migs T. Everything else is pending.

2) Pasay Police Story (A Shameless rip-off of "You're Under Arrest!" where the policemen don't get any work done and end up shooting hostages instead of saving them).
-Progress report: Languishing in Limbo.

3) Cosplay 2004 (A Project to cosplay as a yet-undecided character during the convention season in December and November).
-Progress: No money, no character to portray, no nothing.

4) Oplan Fandub (A project for fan-dubbing an anime of our choice. right now the idea is to re-dub Akazukin ChaCha uncensored with all the expletives).
-Progress: No script, no female voice actresses, to time, no money. All we have are the episodes in fansub. This is going nowhere FAST.

5) The Infinitesimal Point (A Sci-fi/Detective Story which aims to bring these two popular literary genres into the Philippine context. As of now, it is being shaped in a quasi-cyberpunk mode).
-Progress: First draft available to SWC members send me an email or YM about it if you want a copy. As of now, the lead character is about to investigate the scene of the crime. Here's a small excerpt:

<>Jose Rios remembered the days long past when the two of them would be in the same room, whether in school or otherwise, with her speaking and he listening attentively. The university was new then, and had few students and teachers. Teacher-student relationships were close. Occasionally, they bordered on the intimate. “Yes,” Jose thought, “those were the days.”

It’s easy to forget who is teaching and who is learning when your ages are close. Jose had always been her best student, and she had always been his favorite teacher in more ways than one. Familiarity breeds contempt though, as the Romans said. When the teacher sensed that her student was progressing much faster than expected, panic set in. A student must not overcome his teacher. She began treating him coldly. When she stopped returning his calls altogether, he knew it was over. “Get lost, bitch. I’ll reach heights you can’t even begin to imagine.”

Now however, she’s dead. After a long wait, Joe said flatly: “I’ll be there in a while.” “Anything that had to do with Melanie had to be involved with computers and technology in some way.” Joe thought. “Computers were her life. Besides, she was not the type to commit suicide. She may have had an incongruous mix of morbid humor and cheerfulness, but suicidal? No way.”

These words in mind, he set out for BF Homes in Paranaque from his own home in Laguna Westgrove, near the university. At this time of night the trip would only take less than thirty minutes. “Rommie,” he calls out to his driver. “Get the car. We’re going to Mel’s place. Step on it.”