Go to Hill: Tolo-tolo, Consolacion, Cebu

*This post goes out to Jazz, who is very supportive of my rise to porn stardom 

"'Look upon my works ye mighty and despair.' Nothing beside remains " *see footnote

- no other groups of people understand human race much better than athletes. we nourish our primitive drive to outdo, eliminate, and overpower others in a way that destroys morale (of a certain sub-group called losers) yet builds relationship (real, genuine caring relationship between the sub-groups of winners, whiners, and losers). so what's the big idea? instead of turning to cheap means of destroying others like gossiping, bragging about your genius, or making a big deal of your being a groupie (nobody really sees you as an individual, you are a groupie), you can turn to more creative ways to nurture your primitive instincts. competition builds friendship while you try to break others. even athletes who hate each other so much will die at the absence of one.

 - the human body, even in terms of mechanics, is still more efficient than the bicycle. we self-repair and self-preserve. with constant and intense use, our body becomes more fit. with constant and intense use, the bicycle wears out. we age gracefully, the bicycle depreciates. our disadvantage from a mechanical viewpoint: our parts are only partly serviceable, partly replaceable. and we need more than just allen wrenches to do those!

 - i am not a hater. i just find it plain wrong to like losers. 

 - when i was in high school, me and my friend michael brought a 'project' called dancing mothballs to our science fair. i got the idea (the whole of it, actually) from a book called simple science experiments. we placed mothballs into water with baking soda and vinegar, which made the mothballs would go up and down. the mothballs would accumulate carbon dioxide bubbles and lift them to the surface, where the bubbles would pop and the mothballs would go down for them to float up again. our tiny experiment got no citation for the scientific principles it presented (which i would rather not discuss in this blog). instead, the presentations that won were mostly miniture barnyards with fancy lighting. unfortunately, i could not point to any scientific or architectural significance for those things. but then again, we are a country that produces pop singers, import murderously cliched korean TV series, and generate an overwhelming surplus of nurses who can't even insert an IV properly: we cannot expect much from our science teachers. 

 - just to be very clear, i do not present myself as a downhiller. i am more of a cross country rider, if i have to classify myself. i do XC routes, highways, trails, climbs, descents but not hardcore drops and jumps. i am fortunate enough to know some really great downhill riders so i know what i am not 

 - i have been riding kenda kinetics 2.35 for the past three months and they sure grip pretty well, like duct tape across your lips. but it's unreliable on pebbly/sandy surfaces. nonetheless, these tires are very special to me. the Boss bought these, i just gave her the money. it was dress up day at work when she bought the pair and she was like dressed up and on cigarette heels while dragging those DH tires with her. what a picture it must have been 

 -today i rode the tolotolo-sacsac route. it's a hilly route and i go there whenever i want to have an express XC ride. it's quite near but you feel different when you get to the place. that's why i like it

from the Boss. Rox asked me where the photo is. here it is, yo

Your skull protects your brain. Do not abuse its function, wear a helmet.

A very long switch back.

Kenda Kinetics. I kenda like them.

This is what hit-and-run looks like.

My chain jammed between the rings so I was forced to stop.

**The line is taken from the poem "Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. It's about our man Ozy (the guy is a tyrant/ruler of some sort) and he ordered a statue made for him with that line. A traveler passed by that monument, it was completely wrecked but the line still readable for everyone to see the paradox between his claimed greatness and the wreck that his kingdom was reduced to.

he is not a film star

for nearly a year now, i have been posting mountain bike trips on my blog. it's the usual photo-and-text blog, with just one video posted in its 10-month existence. but words and images have an inherent limitation: they cannot convey motion. photos are great for freezing fragments of seconds but what happens before and after is left to the imagination of the reade--something that would not work if you want to share what cycling is about.

mountain biking, like love, is a poorly understood sport. before i turn 23 this march, i want to do a trip that will sum up what it means to be a mountain biker. it is not about being hardcore or having Wolverinish quads. why do i want to do this? because this sport is a big part of myself. and a big part of myself will forever be misunderstood if i do not try. i want people to understand why i go out on my bike way before light and come home way after dark. this afternoon, i've tried putting my facebook-level filmmaking skills. i want to know how far a point and shoot camera can go in capturing what i do.

 **

 i would like to thank my Boss for giving me these Fox Sidewinder gloves.

Google Chapel

Instead of chasing Google through its maze of algorithm changes, which often come unannounced, don’t you think it’s about time we “boo” Big G? Come on ref, make up your mind. But then again we have to feed the Giant because it feeds us. Web techs and bloggers are keeping the chase and they will do so until a competitor tips the seesaw flat. Then we’ll be free to favor the nicer guy. Dream on. That will never happen.

***

 I do not hate Google. It is still my favorite search engine. But I appreciate it more because of Google Earth. Google Earth has helped me find a number of exciting trails. Google has really extended its definition of “search engine” into a more literal level.

***

Third year of mountain biking. Over the years, I have learned to love chapels more than churches. Asking for directions from locals will almost always involve the mentioning of chapels. Chapels serve as landmarks in the most inaccessible of areas. And where DPWH will most likely never reach, missionaries have Christianized decades ago. That’s why chapels, in their crudeness, have done more help to me than any church in Cebu. There's a lot more salvation in chapels. Yes, in my ride this morning, I passed by a chapel.

Here's to Family Computers

The world of video games is a perfect place to find some sense of accomplishment if you cannot find it anywhere else in life. I contrived world where there are only self-imposed expectations and no real consequences. I devoted a good part of my childhood trying to master the art of leaping over turtles and mushrooms, and making dragons fall into a flaming lake that does not move. Spent a good time trying to rescue a flute-toting princess while she is held captive by ninjas—going through an entire host of hostile enemies and a fire-blasting, faceless Vietcong. In case you are not a family computer geek, those are references to Super Mario and Legend of Kage. 

Back then, there were no “saves” and “cheats” were minimal. It’s either you spend an entire day trying to “survive” a game or be permanently condemned to repeating stage one every time. Of course, being the Sisyphus of Video Games is not the title anybody wants so if you have played family computer before, you probably know the number home works you did not tell your parents about just so you get that extra hour you need to get to the next level. And, of course, you know that those home works are cosmological in numbers, so were the hours you spent at dawn or midnight sneaking your fingers into those joysticks. 

Graphics were minimal back then, so a lot was left to the imagination. Regardless, those games were packed with the adrenaline of making or breaking. These days, our video game adrenaline is completely dependent on the amount of gore and the hope that the girl character we are playing RPG with is actually a girl and she lives in the same town. 

Levels and stages and titles are given because manufacturers are aware that they give some sense of accomplishment to the gamer. But today this need is over-exploited, which explains why there are hundreds of different stages and infinite number of badges out there for grabs.

Recently, my parents bought a “China version” of family computer from a popular department store in Mandaue City. I realized that it’s called “family” computer for a reason—it actually gave me a lot of bonding time with my sister and younger cousin. Being from China, sweet China, it did not last long so I’m back to this personal computer (which is actually a laptop, whatever) doing stuffs that we can’t scream about, stuffs that does not make us flail the joystick all over the place just so our character can reach the next landing. There’s no “hurrah for this new comment” or “you almost finished that comment, let’s try again better next time.” 

While I am at this, allow me to share the sense of superiority I get from kicking the brains out of my bot opponents at FIFA 99. I chose a team with a huge transfer fund, played perpetually in the “amateur” level, turned off the offside rule, so a lot of games have ended with Rugby scores (to my favor, solely, as I care not for how these random binary codes feel).

Keep out of position, only one way for the ball to go.

Penalty kick, he's a dead keeper.

I wonder how I made him pass all the defenders.

Spot kick, keeper guessed it wrong.

Left or right, high or low, how far left, how far right, how high, how low, a keeper's mind is a bagful of dilemmas.

Penalty!

Our body will never be as fast as our eyes.

Precarious...

So strong, the keeper did not have the chance to dive.

Anticipating the ball for a header.

It's not football if there is no martial arts involved.

"Life is not fair, neither should be sports." That's a goal to me, but no go says the ref.

Guy in blue is me. Ball went it because of the tackle. lol.

Penalty, it lives up to its name on the keeper's end.

Oh well...

Super onside pass.

I heard that's called aggression.

Walking the dawg.