Eclipse Gym Rulez!

Note: This was supposed to be posted more than a month ago, but I was too busy to finish it.

If you visit any health/fitness-related forums, I’m sure you’ve heard of Eclipse Gym already. Members and founders of the gym unabashedly promote it online, making enticing promises of strength and muscle gains, using training methods vastly different from what most people know (i.e., 3 sets of 10 reps). I’ve immediately noticed how their training philosophy are similar to those found in T-Nation, which is possibly the best site in the universe when it comes to training.

Eclipse guys also boast of world-class equipment and knowledgeable trainers. They would routinely bash other commercial gyms (one in particular), belittling their trainers as being mere physical therapists (PTs) who don’t know shit about strength training, and telling stories of how these gyms make it hard for their members to terminate their membership accounts and all the while continuously charge them of monthly dues. So they would call this gym names like Finance First or Fatness First.

With such bad-ass attitude, how can one not be enticed to join Eclipse? Well for one thing, they only got two branches, one in Malate and another in Shaw. If you’re nowhere near these areas, then suddenly going to they gym would mean a long commute, to and fro. Nonetheless, I was too curious to find out what it’s like to be in a real gym for a change, and to try out some professionally designed workout program. Besides, the Eclipse guys seemed so damed sure of the results you’d get from them.

So I signed up August (yeah, last year, genius) to see if the gym lived up to all the hype. And to prevent making this post a lot longer than necessary, let me just say that I gained more strength in three months in Eclipse than I did in two years on my own. Hell, I benched three digits for the first time!

As for the equipment, it’s not what you’d expect. There are no fancy ultra-electro-magnetic super-duper complicated machines in Eclipse. Just a dozen power racks, an army of state-of-the-art treadmills (each with their own mini LCD TV!), a pull-up assistance machine, a couple of dipping stations, a billion olympic bars, rubberized plates, olympic-lifting “bumper” plates, and that’s it. These are not cheapo-jologs equipment though, they’re top-of-the-line. Oh, and the floors are padded, so go ahead and drop that weight. There’s a whole separate training room for the ladies, away from the ogling guys, and another room for Brazilian Jiu-jitsu, boxing and muay thai classes. The whole place is amply air-conditioned. There’s cold-and-hot showers, lockers, and a steam room.

Sadly, I have just terminated my membership with Eclipse due to schedule and budget concerns. I just figured that I am not a serious enough athlete to warrant the long commute every gym day and the monthly dues which are quite high given my budget.

A couple months before I terminated my account, I had it frozen, with a plan of re-activating it once my schedule freed up a bit. For some reason the bills kept coming even though my account was already supposedly frozen.

When I called them up about this, they said it’s no problem — we could just use the overcharge as payment for the first two months when I come back, which was fine by me. But it did become a problem when I decided that I would no longer come back to the gym — I could no longer use my two months of overcharge as payment for when I return, because, well, I wasn’t returning.

So I visited the gym to formally terminate my membership and to settle the overcharging issue. One month of the overcharge could be used as my termination fee, since I was with the gym for less than a year. As for the other month, and here’s the punchline, the gym volunteered to have it reversed.

Of course, I expected them to do something, since it was error on their part (billing me when my account was supposed to be frozen), but I sure as hell never expected them to volunteer to have the billing reversed, without me asking them first. And no I’m not any sort of “preferred client” or big-name customer, so that really speaks a lot for the kind of service this gym offers. So let them call any gym Finance First, because these guys sure put their money where their mouth is.

Master of Science! Woohoo!

Just finished my thesis defense yesterday, so my master’s degree is now pretty much a sure deal. So, in your face!

Just another “wrote this from my Asus EEE” post

Just about every forum and blog about the Asus EEE laptop has at least one asshole making the obligatory remark: “I’m typing this from my EEE!” or a variation of the sentence. I’m following suit (because I’m an asshole) and typing this entry from my new toy, but this is as far as I go — I will not write a stupid review. Suffice to say it’s neat and worth your money, so be a good consumer whore and go out there and buy one now.

Here’s a picture I stole from the internet:

Shut the fuck up maggot

With the present NBN-ZTE scandal getting more convoluted than an episode of 24 or Prison Break, it’s tempting to write a full-blown analysis or opinion piece, but I won’t. Instead I’ll just say something obvious and cliché:

If we ever bribed our way out of a ticket, if we ever gave ‘grease money’ to speed up the processing of our license, if we ever asked a “favor” from a relative or friend in government, or gave it instead, if we ever flagged down a bus at a no-loading zone, if we ever jaywalked, and if we ever thought that these ‘minor’ things didn’t really matter, do we really have a right to be angry at the assholes in the higher echelons of government? Because if we think breaking the law is ok in small doses, then we are maggots and they are flies.

One way or the other these people are on their way out, and we can spit on their graves when the time comes. But if we want to change the system, and I hate to say this, it really does begin with us. So shut the fuck up, maggot.

This is you and me, waiting to be like them.

Getting rid of the language of weakness

Disclaimer: What follows is a lot of bullshit. Feel free to print out this article and use it to wipe your ass the next time you take a dump.

Here’s a challenge: try to get through one day, or just one hour, without using the words (or phrases) parang, medyo, yata, siguro, hindi naman, kahit saan, ok lang and the like.

For example, the next time somebody asks you, “Gutom ka na ba?” don’t answer “Medyo” or “Hindi naman.” Answer them, “Oo” or “Hindi pa.”

The words and phrases mentioned above make up what I’d like to call the language of weakness. People who speak this language are, well, weak, uncertain and indecisive — not knowing what they want, they keep on making safe statements either to see if the other person will approve or because they want the other guy to make the decision.

“Gutom ka na ba?”

You are either hungry or not. Kung ‘medyo’ gutom ka, gutom ka. Answering with a “Medyo” or “Hindi pa naman” means you don’t know whether you’d like to accept the apparent invitation to eat or not, and you’re too lazy to make the decision right then and there. Furthermore, you make a safe statement, one that neither rejects or accepts the invitation, so you throw the ball back to the other person. Next time this happens, stop and think. It doesn’t even matter if you’re hungry or not, just fucking decide. If you feel like eating, answer with “Oo, tara kain tayo”, if not answer with “Hindi pa, mamaya na lang tayo kumain” or “Oo, pero ayoko pang kumain.” This way your language won’t reek of uncertainty, but rather hint of decisiveness.

Other examples of uncertain, undecisive or otherwise weak-willed language:

“Medyo male-late ako” — here ‘medyo’ is used as a ‘euphemism’. “Male-late ako” doesn’t sound good, masakit sa tenga, so we try to make it nicer by adding ‘medyo’. Don’t. Grow some fucking balls and say you’ll be late when you’ll be late. And while you’re at it, be professional and give an estimate of how many minutes you’ll be late. “I’m on my way, but I’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes late.” In fact just get rid entirely of “medyo” in your vocabulary. It’s the favorite word of the playing-safe, used so that one’s opinion neither completely agrees nor completely disagrees with anybody else’s.

“Mahirap ba yung exam?”
“Medyo.”

In the back your mind, “medyo, para kung nadalian ka, hindi mo naman sabihin na sobrang nahirapan ako at isipin mo pang bobo ako, at medyo rin para kung nahirapan ka, hindi mo naman sabihin na ang yabang ko.” You get the idea.

“Bagay ba?” asks the girl. “Parang hindi masyado,” answers the gay boyfriend. Just what the fuck does “parang hindi masyado” (and its variants) mean? Again, just man up and say “Hinde. Try on a different dress/shoe/whatever.”

“Ok lang.” ‘Ok’ and ‘lang’ are useful when used properly, but put together like this, they form the most worthless phrase in the Tagalog language. “Ok lang” could mean a yes nor a no, but the problem is you never really know, so the person who asked you a question is no better off than if you hadn’t said anything at all.

“Gusto mong manood ng sine?”
“Ok lang.”
“Ah. Ok…(kamot ulo)”

Tip: If you don’t feel like saying yes, then it’s a no. So say something like, “That wasn’t really what’s on my mind, if you insist I’m fine with it, but if not, let’s just have some ice cream or just sit down and do nothing (or whatver).”

“Kahit saan.” This one’s a classic. It’s such a commonly used phrase that there’s a joke that the guy who names his restaurant ‘Kahit Saan’ would be filthy rich in no time.

“Saan nyo gusto kumain?”
“Kahit saan.”

In, other words “Ayoko mag-isip, ikaw na lang” or “Hindi ko alam ang gusto ko.” The next time somebody asks you this question just pause and think, what do you feel like eating? Pasta? Pinoy food? A sandwich? Or enumerate to yourself your favorite restaurants. From there, narrow them down to three choices. “I’m thinking we could go to Shakey’s, or have some eat-all-you-can at Cabalen. Or let’s just grab some pastry at Seattle’s.” But you know what a REALLY impressive answer would be? Give just one answer, complete with details:

“Saan nyo gusto kumain?”
“Let’s go to Yellow Cab Katipunan, guys. I’d like a New Yorker for lunch.”

Sorry, Thank You, Po, and ‘Eh’

In a related note, there’s also this pervasive practice of saying ‘sorry’ to everyone we accidentally bump into or offend at the minutest, saying ‘thank you’ to everyone who does us the smallest of favors, even if it’s just to pass on our fare in the jeepney, using ‘po’ whenever we talk to strangers, even those that could be younger than us, and adding ‘eh’ at certain points in our sentences to sound apologetic.

“May barya ba kayo / Wala ba kayong smaller bill?” asks the cashier.
“Wala eh, ” says the weak, apologetic you. Why not just say “Wala.”?

As for sorry, you can say it if you ran over and killed someone’s dog (or child). You don’t have to say it all the time when you bump people in the MRT, especially when they didn’t even feel it anyway.

Thank you? You say this to a hooker when she gives you a free blowjob, or similar situations. Otherwise, like when somebody passes your jeepney fare, or somebody let’s you ahead in line, or if the waiter refills your water, it’s not really needed.

If you keep saying sorry for every little offense, and keep saying thank you for every little kindness, then you come across as a push-over. Weak. So the next time you feel like saying them, just shut the fuck up.

Po? Use it only when talking to people obviously older than you, or when talking to your boss. But even then use it sparingly, not between every other word.

“Sir, pasensya na po medyo traffic po kasi kaninang umaga po” You can’t get any gayer than this. Not only did you use po three times in one sentence, you also used ‘medyo’. Faggot.

“Sorry sir, traffic po kasi kaninang umaga,” sounds infinitely better. Better yet, just apologize without making any excuses: “Sorry sir, won’t happen again.” Now your talking!

Now, how about other people? You don’t say ‘po’ to them, as a rule of thumb. Not to your equals, and absolutely not to your juniors. You just don’t. How about complete strangers? You don’t use po with them either, because you are senior to them. How do you know that? You don’t. You ASSUME it.

Sweeney Todd in a Nutshell

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

If you haven’t seen Johnny Depp’s latest starrer, here’s what the movie’s all about:

1) Lots of incomprehensible heavy-British-accent singing.
2) Some incomprehensible heavy-British-accent dialogue.
3) Lots of neck-slashing with a razor.

Due to #1 and #2, I only understood the parts with #3. So go ahead and watch this movie, if you’re British.

Depp and Carter talking about, um, something.

Why GMA-7 has lower ratings in homes with cable

The reason why GMA-7 has been getting lower ratings in cable homes and higher ratings in non-cable homes is because people without cable are poor. And we all know that poor people are stupid and have cheap taste. That’s why they like GMA-7. People with cable are rich and smart, and therefore they have intelligent taste, so they watch ABS-CBN. LOL.

Seriously, though, if you actually give a fuck about the ratings war, you should probably go kill yourself and your children. You know, to help the human race eliminate the stupidity gene.

Dachshunds and World Domination

It’s two days after Christmas, and what do you have to show for it? New clothes? New cellphone? I’m tired of listing things that I get for Christmas, so here’s what I didn’t get:

1) 13^th month pay worth approximately P12,000
2) Productivity Bonus from GMA worth P5,000
3) Christmas Bonus worth P10,000

Total amount I didn’t get: P27,000.00

I’d rather not go into the details of this tragic story, suffice to say that I just returned to teaching in the University after a year-and-a-half of study leave, and some accounting assholes determined that I was not yet entitled to bonuses.

Anyway, no use crying over spilled milk, even if it’s a hell of a lot of milk.

***

I badly wanted to buy a new cellphone for Christmas because cold, lifeless, material things bring me happiness and joy. But without the funds I had to settle for the next best thing — a puppy. Not because puppies bring me happiness and joy, but because someday they can bring me the money to buy a new cellphone.

I’ve got it all figured out. I’d buy a female pup, take care of her till she’s old enough to have sex, pimp her out to male dogs, and sell her puppies! With the money I can buy more bitches, and build a dog prostitution empire! Never again will I be a victim of government bonus non-entitlement!

With this evil masterplan in mind I looked up “Dogs For Sale” ads on the web. I wanted a pug (so I could name it Agent Frank) but they were beyond my budget. For some reason Dachshunds were the cheapest purebreed dogs I could find. Still it wasn’t easy to find the color that I liked. Finally, I found Cuddles on some pet website:

Cuddles, the evil sadistic bitch from hell.

The previous owner wanted P6,000 and I countered with P4,000 (because I’m cheap). Eventually I had to give in at P5,500 since the pup was female after all and came with complete papers (hey, if you’re going into the pimping business, might as well go legit). I picked her up from all the way in Buendia and rode a bus back south.

Back home the bitch proved to be a pleasant surprise for the family. For some reason they were so happy watching her chasing Christmas balls, pulling rugs, and doing all sorts of cutesy little things. I was just thinking about my new cellphone.

Reality hit when sleeping time came. As the rest of the household settled, the damned pup just wouldn’t sit still and would whine endlessly whenever she was left alone. So I put her in a cage, put the cage inside the bathroom and shut the door, hoping to drown her cries. But apparently Cuddles is an evil sadistic bitch from hell because there’s no other way to explain her impossibly loud whining and barking.

So I found myself playing with the pup until four in the morning, by which time I just put her beside me on the bed where she promptly settled down and slept. In the succeeding days the whining died down a bit and she now sleeps in her cage, but having her around still feels like having a newborn in the house instead of a dog. If I had known it took so much work to take care of this bitch, I would’ve just bought a gun and held up a bus. Easy money.

Oh well, I can always throw Cuddles in front of a speeding car and sue the driver for reckless imprudence. Then, I can finally get my new cellphone.

Type FUCK <space> YOU

…and send to all the morons who think that text voting is a good idea. Whoever first thought of determining contest winners through text votes should die in a burning train wreck and spend an eternity in hell with his head up in Satan’s ass — his reward for bastardizing the whole idea of talent searches (among others) by turning every single one of them into pointless, generic, and tasteless popularity contests; and not to mention for inventing a giant profit machine for the mobile network operators so that they can continue providing us with lousy service and unsolicited text ads.

Text voting could work, in limited situations, but in general, it’s just stupid. Giving the masses the power to decide the winner of a talent show? LOL, these are the same people who think Manny Pacquiao, Judy Ann Santos and Ara Mina can sing. Furthermore, even if everyone had refined and sophisticated tastes in the performing arts and can appreciate real talent, they would still hardly vote objectively. People vote based on whether the contestant is cute or not, is from their province or not, and God save us all, whether he or she is financially needy or not (why not just take the poorest of them all and declare him/her winner?).

Aren’t you a big moron? Vote now!

Let’s kill the text voting cash cow now. Support the movement to stop text voting. Type NAME <space> IS <space> A <space> MORON and send to 2366.

ZOMG, they handcuffed mediamen!

The circus that happened in Makati three days ago had us watching a lot of people making an ass of themselves on national TV. There were Trillanes and Lim who, for the second time, failed miserably to rouse the people to a revolution (and they just insist on luxury hotel accomodation everytime they try, don’t they?). Then there were the cops and that incident with the APC and Manila Pen’s main lobby doors, which was hilarious, but at least has a plausible explanation (it’s called dynamic entry, where breaking down doors is a standard tactic, although “doors” here usually mean room or house doors, not hotel lobby doors, LOL).

But the biggest assholes that day were the ones with the cameras and microphones — the goddam mediamen.

The morons insisted on staying in the hotel with the rebels (in fact, staying right beside them) after being explicitly told by authorities to leave or risk the crossfire. What were they thinking? That the cops would just let hordes of civilians conveniently roam around the vicinity while a high-risk assault operation was underway? “Excuse me cameraman, can you please move aside? You’re blocking my shot.”

Not only that, they complained of harassment after they were handcuffed and taken in for verification. Wow. Three words, motherfuckers: Standard. Operating. Procedure.

When police arrive in a scene where a crime is underway (hostage situation, barricaded suspect, Trillanes surprise check-in, etc.), they don’t know who the good and bad guys are (and no, your ID does not make you a good guy, nor your big stupid camera, nor your goddam microphone). Thus in the ensuing rescue or assault operation, the cops secure everyone by cuffing them or making them kneel or lie down (and no, I don’t think you have to be under arrest to be handcuffed). It does not matter whether a person is resistive or cooperative, innocent-looking or suspicious (exception may apply to minors). Hell, it doesn’t matter if a person is a hostage. The point is to physically restrain everyone until the dust settles.

During an operation, you don’t want some lady hostage suddenly freaking out and running wild, or some teenager playing hero and carrying out a rescue operation of his own, or for that matter, some newscaster suddenly blocking your view when you are about to take a crucial shot. But what you absolutely do not want, is a civilian or a hostage suddenly turning out to be a bad guy and popping you two in the head.

After an operation, it’s time for the cops to identify and question everyone, both to figure out just exactly what the hell happened, and to make sure no bad guy is posing as a victim. And they don’t do this by asking “Are you a good guy or bad guy?” or “Hey your ID says your a good guy, so I guess you can go” or “You have a camera and must be from the media, therefore you can go” or “Hey, you’re that reporter from TV! You’re free to go!”

You take them in, question them thoroughly and see if everything checks. And yes, they have to be cuffed during transport, because a disguised dangerous criminal who is about to be found out won’t just sit quietly in a vehicle if he’s got his hands free. Besides you don’t want some paranoid human rights-freak resisting and shouting “But I am is innocentz!!!1!1!!”, and thus introducing unpredictability into the situation.

All of these procedures and tactics make perfect sense, so it’s quite frustrating when even your favorite newspaper stands by the stupidity of the media men at the Manila Pen. From Ways of the Gestapo, Philippine Daily Inquirer editorial piece on 12/01/2007:

…Of course, the police cannot be expected to know each and every reporter, photographer or cameraman working for scores of media organizations based in Metro Manila. But unless someone does not watch the news on TV at all, he would surely know that Ces Drilon and Pinky Webb work for ABS-CBN Broadcasting and Sandra Aguinaldo for GMA Network. Their faces are their IDs, so why did the police have to confirm their identities in Bicutan? And why was it not good enough for the police that top station officials would vouch for the identities of the people assigned to cover the event?…

The above basically translates: “Why didn’t the cops let the media people go? Their IDs are absolutely not fake, because, well, they just can’t be. And those famous personalities, there was absolutely no way in hell that they could have connived with the rebels, or made any actions that was detrimental to the safety of the officers or of other people. No way. Don’t even dare suspect them, just let them go, because, they’re like, famous, duh? Besides, their bosses said they were just there to cover the event, so you better believe them, lol.”

PDI, get bent.