Twisted Travels with Jessica Zafra

The ummm ... collection

          

I am putting Marcel Proust's "The Way by Swann's" aside and I'm taking a break from all the Woody Allen films to take on  Jessica Zafra's "Twisted Travels" for now. I must say I have been a bit severe on myself by taking up a book that can be too exhausting to read and I have devoted too much time ogling at Woody Allen films that I feel like I've taken on a personality akin to his. Taking up Zafra is like reacquainting myself with a college buddy and just immersing on the kind of familiar fun and zany-ness that used to dominate the unspeakable boredom, help survive sub-dermal irritants and make ranting a satisfying leisure. That is of course sans the influence of a spiked drink. I have quite a collection of her books which were dubbed "Twisted". She was the reason why I wanted to be a bespectacled bloke so badly that I purposely read in the dark till I was unfit enough to wear them. I took after her existential anguish, her broody world views. She loved books, same as I. She wrote movie reviews that made me want to watch them, got myself hooked on P.O.V, NU107 and was once on the look out for her on Friendster and F.B. I was close to sporting an article of jewelry that had the initials "WWJZD" (What Would Jessica Zafra Do?). I had a "Zafra" phase that spanned all through out my college years which was longer than any romantic entanglements than I can bring myself to admit. But since I had to leave the Philippines, I haven't had even a glimpse of her books after Twisted 7. But really, this blog post will not be about THAT phase or my "exaltation to the rank of a goddess" for her, she would possibly hate me for it. This is just really some fragments of her book "Twisted Travels" which I bought 5 years ago.  

"Ah, the food. We eat our meals at the dining hall of Morse College. I use the word eat more loosely, as in "to chew mechanically, and as swiftly as possible to prevent taste buds from noticing they have nothing to do, upon mysterious objects with the consistency and flavor of recycled cardboard, in order to gather sustenance to be processed into energy for negotiating vast distances on foot". The food is beyond awful, it is 100 percent flavorfree. I never realized how great the food is back home until I landed on an American college campus. I have a terrible yearning for streetcorner barbecued chicken feet, intestines, and aborted duck fetuses (balut). Perhaps the general blandness of their cuisine is what spurred Americans to become the most powerful country on earth-- they have to dominate something to take their minds off dinner. The Pinoy situation is the reverse; we love food and spend so much time preparing and enjoying it, who has time to conquer the world? (Hey, excuse for my zero culinary skills: "I'm working on universal domination") When you've subsisted on heinous cafeteria cuisine, it'll seem like a fair trade. In any case, bad cafeteria food must be an incentive to graduate, get out of here, get rich, and hire a personal chef from France, Italy, Spain, Japan, any place that has real food." 

---- Twisted Travels, New York (1999)  

Italian is a melodious, hyper emotional language; the most innocuous statements sound like declarations of passion, or death threats. 

--- Twisted Travels, Venice (2001)

Singapore is what your city could become if everyone obeyed the rules, did their jobs diligently, and just shut up. When your city gets to be this paragon of efficiency and discipline, would you still want to live there? Singapore is a model city, which is terrific if you happen to be a model human. Not that I'm knocking the place -- it's the perfect vacation spot for the Manila resident weary of doing battle with the city. It is the complete antithesis of Manila: clean, orderly, modern, and organized. Everything works. When I saw an actual non functioning escalator in a pedestrian underpass, I had to slap myself to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. The people move briskly, with a sense of purpose. They do not mill around or get in your face. The taxi drivers give you exact change. The air is invisible, and if your car stops at a red light for more than forty-five seconds, it is considered heavy traffic. The difference between Singapore and Manila became apparent the moment we emerged from the tube into Changi Airport. The atmosphere seemed to grow thicker. I thought there was a constant buzzing in my ear, and then I realized that it was the absence of buzzing. It was quiet. 

---- Twisted Travels, Singapore (1998)
    

Jessica Zafra (born 1965) is a fiction writer, columnist, editor, publisher and former television and radio show host. She is known for her sharp and witty writing style. Her most popular books are the Twisted series, a collection of her essays as a columnist for newspaper Today (now Manila Standard Today), as well as from her time as editor and publisher of the magazine Flip. 

 I also follow her here: http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/

On Woody Allen's "Everything About SEX"

Woody Allen wrote the screen play and directed 5 short films for “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask)”, a film which was loosely based on a book by Dr. David Reuben of the same title. This is Woody’s 4^th among the 40 plus of his works which he started filming in the 60’s.  Everything, as the title suggests, is probably like one of those films hidden on your brother’s drawer or among your father’s pile of stuff which you are forbidden to touch or see. But since it was by a luminary auteur that brought us Annie Hall, Hannah and Her Sisters, Manhattan, The Purple Rose of Cairo, to name a few, I don’t see how a movie which screams S-E-X can bear a promise of a letdown.

"You hear these strange stories, y'know, like these pills these women take or sometimes the guy slam their heads up against a wall of hard rubber. Yeah? Or ... What it's a homosexual encounter?" -- Woody Allen as a sperm

On Do Aphrodisiacs Work? Woody stars as a court jester who wanted to tickle the royal funny bone but ends up as a complete failure. He encounters the spirit of his dead father who tells him to make out with the queen in order to grant it eternal rest. He then calls on the sorcerer in order to help him bring out his act. The sorcerer gives him a potion which he will give to the queen. As soon as the queen took a sip from the vial, folly ensues. Woody played the sex-starved court fool quite well. Loaded with witty, dirty and ridiculous dialogues, this comical Shakespearean skit is only the beginning, a mere scratch on the surface of buffoonery that Woody Allen has under his sleeves. The second short film focuses on a man-sheep affair. What is Sodomy? Touches on the story of a medical doctor who fell in love with Daisy, a four-legged animal brought to his office after its love-struck owner begs him to talk some sense into her (the sheep) to win her back. This is a piteous beastial love story but amusing in an odd kind of way. The third short film was just as bizarre. Why Do Some Women Have Trouble Reaching an Orgasm? is about a couple who just wants to make out in public. My eyes were ruby red, however, from reading the English subtitles since this was in Italian. Are Transvestites Homosexuals? was, however, the part I enjoyed most. I thought I was about to hit the apex of boredom from the previous sequel when this bit about a middle-aged man with a fondness of donning up a woman’s wardrobe (transvestite) poked at my funny bone and made me let out a laugh that made my throat hurt. What Are Sex Perverts? was in the style of a game show that focuses over the question “What’s My Perversion?” it is set in black and white which was just so silly and profane that I had to press the forward button. Are The Findings of Doctors And Clinics Who Do Sexual Research And Experiments Accurate? features a Giant Tit created by a deranged scientist which was set loose to ravage the countryside. This got me saying WTF?! Like, really, what the fuck? In the end, the colossal boob was taken down through a trap in the shape of a gigantic bra before it “nursed” the entire countryside down. The last sequel What Happens During Ejaculation? is a sci-fi take on how a guy’s brain functions during a date and coitus. Men in white uniforms are actively and attentively engaged on sending signals to other “centers” (for other organs) while a passionate love making takes place. Woody Allen stars as a sperm who is too reluctant to take the big jump despite his sworn oath to “fertilize an ovum or die trying”.  

The doctor and his Daisy 

This may not be the best Woody Allen movie there is but as with his other films, there is something to like and love about it, I personally liked it for its shock value. Although this wasn’t as overwhelming as his later works, he always makes movies that are entertaining, wrought with clever dialogues and interesting characters. 

Monday Miscellany

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Today is a good day. It’s a Monday, a day off from work, high time for me to laze around, get as much sleep as I can, eat and eat  and not worry a bit about work and the coming days ahead. How I spend my Mondays actually depends on how I can overcome gravity. And since I live on my own- clean after my own mess, cook for myself and get the laundry done- defying the heaviness of this 65-kilos flesh just to get things done requires no magic. Nay, no incantations needed.

I decided to spend this day watching movies that I've missed out in trying to cope up with the daily shuffles of life. 

I know I've missed out a lot so I'm going to start with what my friend downloaded for me a few days back. I watched the last few bits of Fernando Trueba and Javier Mariscal's spanish animated film "Chico and Rita". I started watching it's first half the night before and thought of finishing it today since it is after all an amazing film. I love the animation which was carefully done, the music - mostly Cuban and Jazz, the tumultuous, Love-Hate relationship of Chico and Rita and the whole dialogue set in Spanish (and sometimes English and French) just really calls out the viewer's mind and heart. 

The next movie I watched was Michel Hazanavicius's black and white silent film "The Artist". After bagging 5 Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor, I see no reason why I don't have to watch this. I found myself smiling over the first 20 minutes of the movie. It is saccharine, subtly painful movie that pulls on one's heartstrings. It is a movie that's easy to love and impossible to forget. Jean Dujardin as Georg Valentin brought a smile on my face, even if the scene does not require it, through his commendable acting. Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller was just beauty, grace and perkiness put together. The movie has brought back the lost art of silent films and though it's dialogues are scant and it's shots less vivid, it is one brilliant movie that will tickle you one time and crumple you the next. 

This is the scene that got me saying "Awww". Peppy Miller hugs herself in Georg's coat. 

I also watched "This Means War" today. 

Would you believe me if I tell you that despite all these movies I watched today I still have time to dabble on some artwork and do some cooking? I seriously don't know where I got all this energy from.