Loob ng belt bag

Kaninang umaga, habang hinahatid sina Noam, Damian, at Maria, makalampas ang tulay na tinaguriang never-ending bridge, napansin namin ang isang lalaking may edad, light brown ang kamiseta at mas maitim na brown ang pantalon. Pinaghihiwalay ang mga pang-itaas at pang-ibaba ng itim na belt bag. Umaakyat ng Forestry ang matanda, mukhang nakapag-warm-up na sa Freedom Park. Maiigsi ang kanyang mga hakbang at may regularidad ang kumpas: mas mabilis kaysa karaniwang lakad ngunit hindi pa matatawag na jogging, walang gaanong talbog. Gusto ko pa siyang pagmasdan kaso nagmamaneho ako at marami pang ibang naglalakad-lakad na baka mailagay sa peligro. Pinag-usapan namin siya saglit ni Pinky bilang “goals”. “Kamukha siya ni Mr. Miyagi.”

Dati ko nang gustong itala ang aking mga kasalukuyang binabasa. Naumpisahan ko na kina Fantauzzo, Laux, at Ordoñez,  si CJ at ang IBON praymer, at siyempre ang mga zines. Mga marker lang sana ang mga ito para sa mga hinaharap na engkuwentro at muling pagbasa. Sa palagay ko, hudyat si “Mr. Miyagi” upang magdagdag ng mga muhon:

Una kong naiskor ang so we must meet/apart na collab nina Jesa at Vince Imbat. Salamat (sobra!) kina Ava at Jing, may kopya ako ng Everything is First Person ng aming IYAS mentor na si Sir Vince Groyon. Inayos ni Pinky ang pagbili ng Beckoning Baguio ni Sir Ivan at okey lang kahit na-miss ang 10/10 sale ng dalawang araw. Atats e. 

Mukhang nagwo-walking for fitness si manong kaya shoot na agad ang so we must meet/apart kung saan nagsusulatan ang magkaibigan tungkol sa kanilang paglalakad-lakad. Nirerekord nila ang mga layunin, sagabal, at sari-saring obserbasyon habang umuusad sa labas (at dahil mapagnilay, paglalakbay din sa loob). Mukhang ibang-iba ang layunin ni manong (na patuloy kong pinaglalakad paakyat ng bundok ngayon, sa gabi ng aking iisipan). Palagay ko, nagpapahaba ng buhay, nagpapanatili ng nalalabing lakas. Maaaring may 10K step goal. May pagtatapos o kasal dalawa o apat na taon pa sa hinaharap at kailangan siyang makadalo.  

Madali ang 10K step goal para kay E—, ang matalik kong kaibigan, dahil sa trabaho niya sa warehouse. Katunayan, kung nakukulangan ako sa “hakbang pangkalusugan” dahil nakakain ng kotse sa pabalik-balik ng hatid-sundo, mahina kay E— ang 15K steps at inaalala na niya ang lagay ng kanyang paa. Pinag-uusapan namin ang lotion. Pinag-iisipan na niya kung mainam at kakayanin (kasi naman, mamahalin! may warranty!) na wool socks.

Nagbibilang din kaya ng hakbang sina Prop. Ivan at Prop. Vince? Solb na sa relo o... manual count? Kapwa kasi silang umamin sa kani-kanilang mga libro na may kakatwa silang predileksyong magbilang nang magbilang. Nagsimula ang sanaysay ni Ivan na “At Least, Some Charm with Numbers” sa “I have some fascination with basic operations with numbers, which I guess I hope do not lapse into the lunatic. When I am in jeepneys, I count the passengers—lima kami nang umalis sa terminal; may pinick-up na dalawa sa store, pito na; tatlo sa highway, sampu na; dalawa sa Chapis, dose na; siyaman ang jeep, may anim pang bakante sa likod, duwa pay jay sango.” 

“I wouldn’t want to call it a malady” naman ang pambungad na sugnay ni Prop. Vince sa sanaysay niyang “Ock-Ock”. Nakakaasar daw ito habang nagtatagal at napansin ng mga kasama. Nababawasan ang kanyang pokus at pag-intindi sa naririnig o nababasa. Samantala, iniisip ni Prop. Ivan ang konek ng ganitong mga operasyon sa pagiging malikhain, sa likot ng utak.

Paano kaya kung maging lalo pang detalyado ang step counter sa ating relo at mobile? Ano kaya ang makukuha natin sa datos? Sa ngayon medyo abante na nga, nababasa ng app sa phone ni Pinky maging ang incline angle. Kung real-time din ang pagsukat ng BP at tibok ng puso ng relo, aba’y i-synch na sila nang maging treadmill mo na ang mundo! Sa akin, mas mahalaga ang pagbilang ng hakbang at pagkakategorisa ng mga ito, hal., ilan sa mga hakbang ko ngayong araw ang napunta sa pagsasampay ng damit? Sa pagsampa at pagbaba ng mga bag ng bata? Papunta at paalis sa hapag-kainan? Habang may kasama? 

Ilang libo sa mga hakbang ang talagang dedikado sa kalusugan? Ilang daan sa pagtapon ng basura sa labas? Ilang libo-libo ang mga hakbang na hindi inalintana? Samakatwid, ilan ang may kabuluhan, ilan ang walang saysay? Maaaring makatikim pa ako ng pie chart na iyan kung uusad pa ang teknolohiya, mapapahaba ko ang buhay, maitutuwid natin ang lipunan, at maiiiwas ang daigdig sa pagkagunaw: Update: 1,118 of your 9,265 steps were happy.

BVX

B figures hmm, they’re just like the Rs in a fight when on a steady diet of training runs with the fam. So he’s scanning for patterns, testing with projectiles and feints, all the while using their own field anxiety against them: hitting a friend. As B I’d ride A, but only if it’s fun rodeo, I mean, if there’s a golden bridle of sorts (I’m thinking D’s), otherwise it would be like riding a metal cactus which is also a god-besotted pegasus. So if I’m not riding him, I’m defending against him. Blind him until you figure him out, etc. If I’m not deploying anything, it wouldn’t be ideal to take I. However, if I have my anti-F gear, then it’s I, but only to incapacitate as how’s it B-like to use someone unconscious as a shield? It’d be too much of a hostage sitcom, too desperate. Maybe the weakest link is C if you have a B skill-set (oh, B must have a thing for S-type eye burns, should be able to defend against those in his day-sleep). Get behind him! Though C is the brainiest in terms of tactics: it would be like dodging O-beams. Counter-though if B sets up the surroundings, you know, smoke, etc. But if he isn’t U-belting anything? So it’s I cracking jokes, maybe all that fear factor not biting. It’s H, and if he’s holding something science-y or mystic artsy, B will take it from him, but if H is all body? Well it shouldn’t be easy throwing against any of them alone or together, as adults or as kids (what’s a human if you’ve toed field against E?). Anyway, enter J (X’s J not B’s). B resists with some zen-type jujitsu or whatnot, maybe surprise J (B pulled a trick like this against the M, but he had time to study the M). Anyway, J gets revived (everyone always rushes to save her, we all know this) and though B makes happy with the folk thrown off, J at round 2 will use bigger, headier stuff, maybe a TK to go with the TP. So, J’s inside, and H pins B down, C takes aim (at, I don’t know, the brand, I suppose, though he must realize that its up front and “eye-catching” because, hey, don’t look at the chin), A is enraged (I’s look guys, she has this, and they know she does, the universe is her fire-buddy like that, but B seems like the slippery sort of SR, and you should at least pose to maintain focus) but J goes, no, don’t hurt him, please, don’t hurt him, because the pain, the rage. Little boys right, what can I say? J’s in tears, and C’s jealous (and if it’s as kids, then so’s H). I’s playing his usual dumb, so, is it over, are we friends now? A is trying to shrug off the acid (or if it’s as kids, to burn it all off). B glares, recalculates, accepts that the files are out, has been shared, the thing to consider is 01. will they work for him, 02. will they work with him, 03. will they get out of the way long enough for him to accomplish what needs accomplishing? .04 Who has time for this? He decides he can’t have all these wild cards running about, has to distract them somewhat. It’s a good thing he called N at the outset, before the first blow was even struck. Yes, N, the time-saver. N, a prettier pair of lips than even C. N gets J confused (at the very least) and I, too (though the adult I would deny it). H gives it his trademark oh my, and that very instant he gets to “garters” he regrets it.

Frolick`d

Maybe there’s no sending this, but there’s writing it. You don’t know about the others, but it’s not that I can’t talk to them for the same reason I can’t talk to you. They’re oppressive. You’re the opposite of. You in fact know what’s up because I went and asked. Those of them who know know because someone else went ahead and told them (that custom pride they take in leak-me-downs). So, hi. What I’ve got to say is I see King’s doing Miracle and I’m claiming rights to excitement because it’s King, he’s got Vision under his belt (and Kite, even if maybe you don’t agree with the ballad parts, but see how that tied in with Swamp?) and now he’s pulling off something I’ve seen in Templesmith, but guess what, that preview and with Miracle, there’s a point being made. I’m sure just following the panels of the arc will tell a story. Just the panels; I’m giddy. Sure of it. Even if you say, are you sure you’re okay. I’m telling you this, aren’t I. And it’s neither despite this nor because of. It’s something that can be done: a letting out. It’s what I’ve got at the moment. Moments are what I’ve got at the moment. Do catch Miracle and feel free to keep it to yourself. By any chance have more? Ask to stay with letting out with no thought of letting. Not like I can go on, saying I’m here.

BLOSSOM ROW: a review of Batman #44

The issue begins with a body in the Gotham Marshes. “The body lies less than one foot from the city limit. A boy, not even six years old.” Batman’s shadow comes and scares the crows away. “He will punish the one who did it, and stop it from happening again.” A silent vow that would result in a city-wide search and put into motion a more interior, epiphanic form of Year Two.

Seems I’m more of a Scott Snyder fan when it comes to his light touches. I’ve followed such immense mythos updates as his Court of Owls, but when he pulls off something like Batman #44, I can’t help but pay attention. While issues like these can be taken as fillers—as one-shots that barely connect with the arc and serve various functions, perhaps to buy time until the artist catches up or until the series could synchronize with continuity parallels (like Detective Comics and Batman/Superman, in this case)—for me, it’s as if those long arcs of Eternal and Endgame had been committed to satiate fanchild appetites and indulge expectations just so ground gets cleared for something like #44 to sigh.

“And the story begins with coils. Coils upon coils.”

“A Simple Case” is Snyder’s story, but he shares writing credit with Brian Azzarello. Maybe the stuff I like belongs to Azzarello. I’ve read enough of his work to believe that the chain of events (Penguin, gangs, the father on the sickbed, the boy, and Penguin again, and the gangs again, the policeman) and the alternate chain (no spoiler here) both belong to him, such that the story “ends with more coils, circling the boy.” But who deserves the pat for the lost sneaker? Or for this touch: “There was a game Bruce used to play as a boy. He’d heard anecdotes about how the Miagani Indians put their fingers to the ground to ‘listen’ for coming changes in the land.”

My initial take on Jock’s work is that it’s too stylized for the issue. Too Vertigo, too Legends of the Dark Knight. Almost Jae Lee. I would have wanted something more basic, something clean. Then again, I’m not sure my idea would work with Lee Loughridge’s palette, particularly that effect where the sunlit panel clusters give the flashback while the grayish ones frame the present. The whole thing might come off as glare rather than nuance.

Possible also that it’s precisely gritty art like this that would work quite well with the cuts of newspaper text, the swathes of white representing snatches of Wayne’s early research. This technique begins with the sophomoric “mental note” at the bottom third page, but culminates in the essential city-text two-page sprawl towards the end of the comic. It’s the usual cowled figure surveying his city from a high, unshared perch, but it’s also Batman reading his own insufficient reading of Gotham.

The comic seems to tie in with the Superheavy arc as an issue-long flashback (a flashback within a flashback, but again: no spoilers). However, I’m more interested in thematic connections: Gordon is seen collaborating with the protagonist, entering with a quip on the bat equipment, a part of which currently installs him as the city’s legit-type Bat-hero. Wayne is depicted as a bleeding heart philanthropist, which is both a way to frame Batman as a project and a means for critiquing its internal paradox, its distant sort of involvement. The current “tabula rasa” Bruce Wayne has already been featured in previous issues as moving in a nonviolent direction, the way his parents worked with the grassroots when they were alive.

Most of all, what attracts me to this issue is how it’s a catalog of failures, one consistent with Snyder’s idea of Batman as a self-aware tragedy. “A Simple Case” is not where Batman starts and nowhere near where he ends, but it might as well be the point where Bruce begins to understand what Alfred (butler, erstwhile theatre actor) had intuited the day Bruce slipped on the purple gloves: his boy Batman, should he succeed, would become a high figure for both hope and inadequacy.

—para kay Eugene: dahil masyadong mahaba para i-text

The Iceman Outeth