I’ve always wanted to be a writer, but recently I’ve been finding it way hard to find things to write about, and to write about them well. Not even Charles Bukowski’s “so you want to be a writer?” is enough to rouse me this time. Or so I’ve been telling myself.

Here’s something taken from an entry written by John Green (author of “Looking for Alaska,” etc) way back in 2003:

Q: [...] So would you say that it’s writers’ block?

A. I don’t believe in writers’ block. Writers’ block is just a kind of not trying. Do you ever hear roofers complain about roofers’ block? Writers invented writers’ block because it allows us to sound tortured and important without actually having to write anything that might reflect our torture and/or importance. I’m just not trying hard enough. Also, I’ve been sort of sad in a way that isn’t really conducive to work.

That’s it, I guess. The brunt of it. What it all comes down to. The real reason why my writer-ly career is akin to a fish floundering on the side of the road. I’m just not trying hard enough.

I’m taking slow and puny steps to be The Writer That I Want To Be. The kind of writer that I’ve always wanted to be ever since I was little. (When I was five, though, I wanted to be a teacher. I still kind of do. But for things like Doctor Who or art history or poor man’s — aka, my own flawed understanding of — philosophy.) For starters, I’ve “fixed” some parts of my writing portfolio. And, tomorrow, I’m going to be working for a publication.

I think those might be pretty good steps for now.

Ministry Work (and Wood Textures)

I don’t get to do a lot of ministry work anymore, so when someone contacted me to design something for CCF, I got excited. After a bit of bumps, I was able to layout a few pages and I made a cover for the materials. This isn’t the final design, though, but I’m posting it because I’m kinda liking the pretty lightbulb (c/o Jeanine Garcia!) with that wood texture.

 
Television: Watching and Writing About It
Currently spazzing over LOST and a few comedies (e.g. Community, Modern Family, Parks & Recreation). Also getting into animated series (e.g. Ugly Americans, Archer) and this HBO series called How To Make It In America. I know, I’m a little bit crazy but I really can’t say ‘no’ to good T.V.! Sometimes, I can’t even say it to bad T.V. but that’s beside the point.

However, I still do love my old favorites, so I wrote a piece on New Slang about Jordan Catalano and Brian Krakow. Please read it, if you please!

 
Blue Roast
To be honest, the whole thing kind of felt a little exclusive (as in… excluding a lot of us, LOL. Just kidding. But I felt a little alienated is all, I guess), but I was with great people, and there was great music, and there were great films. So more or less, I had an O.K. time. :)

Making a Blue Roast video… Or trying to. Stay tuned for it!

 
Sribbler Too!

I already posted one over here, but it’s so fun to use to write or draw with. Try it!

 
Gifts!
My friend Carla found this little gem and gave it to me. I was super happy because I’ve never seen a license plate with my name on it (I usually end up getting ‘Samantha,’ which is my second name). So, thanks, Carla! I really love it so much, I could cry.

Not too long ago, I operated under the belief that the most important things to look for in people are the things that you have in common. I recited that line from High Fidelity more times than I can count¹ and I said it to people like it was a Bible verse, repeating it whenever the subject of popular culture and preferences came up. I calculated the probability of how much I would get along with a person, based on what they liked. People who liked the same things I did were more attractive to me, even though they turned out to be pretty lame jerks, once I got to know them better.

A question: Why does it matter? A couple of years ago, a wise man named Chuck Klosterman tried to tell me that it didn’t, when I read an essay in his book, “Chuck Klosterman IV.” On the subject of guilty pleasures, Klosterman said: “It never matters what you like; what matters is why you like it.”

Very recently, I met someone I had nothing in common with. We didn’t like the same things and we didn’t have the same friends. We didn’t spend our time in the same manner (I’m assuming), or talk the same way. But there was this certain, particular moment of attraction, of being drawn to his personality, just because he was so earnest and so unapologetic about everything he did and said and believed in.

photo stolen from Tricia Gosingtian.
me = top row, second from the right.

When I won an LSAA² for Graphic Design, a lot of people were surprised because they had expected a win for Fiction. I’m not saying this to brag or gloat, but because it caused gears in my head to click together, and it was just very telling of my tendency to shy away from the possibility of rejection. See, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I couldn’t tell you how many countless times I re-wrote my autobiography. I wrote a retelling of C.S. Lewis’ “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” when I was in the third grade. (It was crap.) And if I could, the first things I would save from my hypothetically burning house are my books. One of the panelists for my thesis even said that it seemed like I spent more time writing than designing, which is a comment that is meant to be insulting (as I am an information design major), but it was like (good) music to my ears, because all of them agreed and thought that my writing was good.

I’m more comfortable when my visual work gets rejected, than when the things I write do. I guess the stuff that I write mean more to me, because I put more of myself into what I write than in what I make. It sounds terrible when put like that, but it’s the truth. Writing out feelings and thoughts is a little more personal, a little more confrontational, to me, than making something pretty out of these thoughts and feelings. If someone doesn’t like what I make, it’s very easy to dismiss it as a taste issue. Maybe it’s not their aesthetic, or they just don’t like or get my style. And then, I’m fine again. But if somebody dislikes the things that I write, it usually ends up feeling like a knife to the gut.

The pressure to write something spectacular has been looming over my head for the past two years, which is actually when I stopped writing complete stories. (I would always have a beginning or a middle or an ending, but never all three strung together.) And then there is this feeling of crippling doubt, and then I come up with nothing, or I just don’t even bother to try anymore. I didn’t apply for the LSAA Creative Writing division because I didn’t think I was good enough, because I never tried to be better, and I never put myself out there enough. I was scared of what people might think of me when they read what I write, because it was so easy to hide behind the ambiguity of art… People can ascribe whatever meaning they wanted to on the things that I made, but it’s not so easy to be vague and abstract when you write something out. It’s easier to judge a person that way, and that’s one thing I didn’t want to be done to me.

Chuck Klosterman’s “Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas”

The problem today is that people care too much about what other people think. Personally, it took me to a point where the ‘me’ that I presented to people became such a carefully-crafted character, just so I could impress the people I liked and stand out from the people that I didn’t. I was still me, but I was some sort of veiled, half-me, where all the embarrassing parts ended up being the hidden parts — reserved, I guess, for my family to see and get to know. (Unfortunately? for them.)

When asked why he chose that particular way of dancing, that not everybody “got” or understood, the earnest guy , with a shrug of his shoulders said, “That’s just what comes from my heart.”³ It’s one of the simplest things I had ever heard in my life (and I’m sure I’ve heard it at least once before), but it was also one of the truest.

Little Miss Sunshine, 2006

I don’t know where to go with this, really, but one of my resolutions for 2010 was to “be brave” and I guess that’s what I’m trying to do. I want to be brave, because people might not like what I write or the way I tell my stories or the words that I choose, but I need to learn how to not let that stop me.

I’ve given up on some of those resolutions on my list, but I’ve still got this, and I’ve still got time, and for now, that’s seems as perfect as it can get.

———
¹ “…what really matters is what you like, not what you are like… Books, records, films — these things matter. Call me shallow but it’s the fuckin’ truth.” — High Fidelity, 2000.
² Loyola Schools Art Awards.
³ Translated. He said, in Filipino, “E ‘yun ‘yung nasa puso ko e.”

Ever since November 2009, I have been itching to write this entry on Doctor Who. The thing is, I couldn’t because I hadn’t finished viewing all of series 1 (traditionally, series 27) through 4. I was taking a television class under Andrew Ty last semester, and before I knew it, I was hooked. We ended class, exactly, with the last episode of series 2, a two-parter that left me wanting to find an empty bathroom stall and just cry.

THE PREMISE OF THE SHOW: Doctor Who isn’t about any doctors, ironically. In case you are not in the know (which, I find, most people outside of Britain, including me, are), Doctor Who is about an unnamed character simply referred to as The Doctor. He is a Time Lord from a planet called Gallifrey, and he goes traveling in a blue Police Box called the TARDIS, or Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Essentially, it is a time machine.¹ Occasionally, the Doctor has a companion with him. The Doctor’s companions are usually there to help him “operate” the TARDIS and go traveling with him, but more often than not, they end up assisting him in, usually, saving the Universe.

If you’re going to start with Series 1, then the companion you will meet is Billie Piper. (If you don’t remember who Billie Piper is, let me refresh your memory.) The Doctor is played by Christopher Eccleston, who is brilliant in his portrayal of the Time Lord. He is menacing and endearing at the same time, simultaneously beautiful and terrible.

However, the most famous and iconic regeneration (we’ll get to this in a while) of the Doctor in recent years is played by David Tennant, who also played Barty Crouch, Jr. in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Before I prattle on and on and on, here are five reasons why you absolutely must watch Doctor Who. In list form, just because I love you.

Why you should watch Doctor Who:

1. IT’S IMPORTANT.
   This is kind of a lame reason, but it’s true. Doctor Who is a British television series that began in 1963, went on hiatus in 1989 and was resurrected in 2005 by BBC. It’s important because majority of the people who grew up in London, grew up with Doctor Who.

   Now, Reason Number One isn’t necessarily a “convincing” criterion, in terms of why you should watch it, but it’s something to be considered. Discounting 7th Heaven (because it is obviously crap but that is a different story altogether), most shows that last this long do so because they are integral to popular culture as well as society. They perpetuate some longstanding legacy, with a “character” that develops alongside the context within which it operates.

   People have been watching Doctor Who since the 1960s. There have been ten (eleven in April) reincarnations of the Doctor, by way of regenaration, which is a process Time Lords undergo in order to somehow “cheat death”. I won’t go into the specifics, but that’s a basic explanation as to the change of casting for his character. Fans have their own favorites, and have dubbed each of them, fittingly as “my Doctor.”

   There are also, in existence, several Dalek (Time Lords’ sworn enemies, basically) costumes, and cookies, as well as recreations and references to the TARDIS, like such:
   

   

   Pretty much, all I’m trying to say is: it’s a pretty big deal. And there’s a good reason why.

2. IT’S FUN.
   Come on! Time-travel. History. Aliens. Bad Guys. Good Guys. Silly Guys. Meddlesome (but somehow charming) Family Members. Running, lots of running. Chaos. Madness. Explosions. Suits. A Police Box Flying Through Space. Space! Seriously, how could you ever have resisted?

   Any way you look at it, there is really just an inherent fun element in Doctor Who. There’s usually a bunch of new characters (although sometimes they reprise bad guys and other familiar faces), new settings, and new old settings in an episode. There is also always some ridiculous element that somehow works to the advantage of the show. The TARDIS itself, when you think of it outside of the context and the developed “lore” of the show, is pretty ridiculous. However, this peculiarity gives character to the show that is so distinctly itself.

   And while Doctor Who is decidedly a science fiction show, which puts a lot of people off because they think that it is largely set in outer space (i.e. Battlestar Galactica), it actually explores and speculates already established historical events such as the fall of Pompey, Shakespeare’s lost play, the origin of werewolves and the disappearance of Agatha Christie.

3. It’s funny.
   I’ve tried very hard, but I can’t put my finger on why Doctor Who is funny, or in what way it is. I’ve chalked it up to the fact that the Doctor is an alien. So he’s naturally funny. (Flawed logic, I know.) But, sometimes, it just really seems as though he does not mean to be funny at all.

   How to describe it? Some of the companions are funny (Donna is my favorite), and they poke fun at everything. Their mannerisms, scripts, speculations almost always have humor. The aliens are sometimes funny (The first meeting with the Ood in a series 2 episode, “The Impossible Planet,” always has me in stitches), as are some of the guest/minor/recurring characters. It’s silly, obvious fun, but never of the slapstick kind.

   If you would be so inclined as to direct your attention to this spoiler-free collection of funny clips that I did not make:
   

   And this other one, just because it makes me giggle:
   

4. It’s interesting.
   Aside from the stuff I’ve mentioned, there’s more to Doctor Who. Loads of themes are explored in the series that are dark, serious and, surprisingly relevant. Although contextualized in an often alien environment, issues like slavery, morality, ethics, existentialism, family, loneliness, technology, the abuse of power, and so on, are actually sort of illuminated very effectively. Even though they’re set in a different context, there is still some sort of familiarity present because they’re tackling issues that could very easily have been experienced by the audience.

   The program also lends two perspectives: a more removed, learned and strange one from the Doctor, and a humanized and emotional one from the companion. Because there is a certain detachment from the issues, we are given the opportunity to confront them in a much different way than we do in real life.

5. It’s not the kind of show that takes itself too seriously.
   Let’s face it: the downfall of a lot of television shows that are currently on these days is the constant pursuit of Being Taken Seriously. Good news is that Doctor Who doesn’t really care whether or not you take it seriously. While difficult themes are tackled by the show in each episode, Doctor Who is not afraid to laugh at itself.

   The show effectively combines humor, science fiction, theoretical physics², drama, adventure, and suspense (I’m looking at you, Steven Moffat) altogether, resulting in a very lovely hour each week. The scripts are well-written, the actors are brilliant, and it approaches each episode with a certain playfulness that doesn’t sugar-coat the dark stuff, but also doesn’t present them in a melodramatic manner, or as an affectation.

   In many ways, the show is like the Doctor, who bears such a heavy burden on his shoulders, has had such a dark history, and has lost a lot of what he holds dear, and yet: he manages to crack up a smile, and carry on.

If you’ve read this far into the entry (meaning, you actually finished it), it means that you are interested, even if only vaguely, in the show. Do yourself a favor and watch it already. Allons-y!³

———
¹ It is also bigger on the inside!
² I might just be making this up.
³ This is French for “Let’s go!” Ten says it all the time.

LOLJK. I just finished my thesis, is all. I mean, that’s all. Nothing special.

I have loads more to say, and obviously, the insides of this book(let :( it’s really short) has more pages. But I am still swamped, so this little update will have to do. I just wanted to say IT IS FINISHED because I really was getting a little desperate because it seemed like it was going nowhere… but here it is.

And thesis, if I may say so, it is absolutely lovely to see you.