A Voyage of A Million Lightyears

If you are given a spot in Earth’s first intergalactic expedition to travel towards a still undiscovered planet beyond the Milky Way, an expedition that would last more than a lifetime in space, where your only companion is a bunch of crews and an intelligent A.I., aboard a faster-than-light spaceship, would you take it?

…

If a man tells you to get inside a dark enclosure with a promise that you will reach heaven will you get in?

It depends on who the man is. He may just be a killer. Or he could be a NASA official drafting you into their intergalactic space travel towards the heavens.

…

The boy travels inside a bubble. The bubble travels faster than light. The boy left the earth on a Sunday morning just after breakfast. Destination: towards God’s seat in the heaven in the Pleiades star cluster.

The bubble reached the first star of the cluster just before lunchtime. For lunch, the boy ate an apple, two pieces of bread and drank a glass of milk.

The bubble was pulled in the clusters local gravity well after passing Maia. The boy went down on his feet and knelt “for he has seen the throne of God” and lived.

God’s throne appears just like any other star but the boy knows that it is the throne. It looks brighter and more immaculate.

…

The man will do anything if it means going away from here. He boards inside the spaceship and doesn’t even bother to look back and wave farewell. He is very excited of the prospect of going into a wholly different environment. He doesn’t really hate it here, he just feel like he does not belong here, that there is another place somewhere where the likes of him can live peacefully to their hearts’ content. He is holding on to that thought.

…

Up there in space, the boy looks down on earth. Up there in space there is infinite silence, with only an occasional hum of engine or clatter of metal to interrupt it. Up there in space, the boy has unobstructed view of stars, comets and all heavenly bodies he only dreamt of seeing.

The boy looks down on earth, a pale blue dot on a large black canvass. The boy exclaims, ‘Wow!’. No one hears. The boy saw a painting of a thousand stars, an artwork of nebulaes, a masterpiece of celestial proportions. The boy sheds a tear in awe and admiration. The boy looks down on earth. He sheds a tear.

City Cries

It’s just another day at the office. As he arrives into his workstation, he was welcomed by a pile of paperwork on his desk, and a smirk on his boss’ face towering down on him as he sat down. What a way to start the day!

He did not let himself be discouraged by this. He just smiled and told himself that it is still very early in the morning. And it is just the start of the week. He’s got the rest of the week for this.

His smile disappeared after a realization. It is still very early in the morning. And it is just the start of the week. A voice screamed from inside him.

…

He woke up early that morning. He prepared, psyched himself up, went out feeling fresh and got on his daily commute to work. It’s a start of another day and it begins here on the highway.

10 minutes later their vehicle has moved 10 meters. But he was not worried. He prepared, was psyched up and feeling fresh.

10 more minutes later their vehicle has moved 10 more meters. He started to worry. He overheard from the driver that there was a commotion up ahead. This would take forever.

A silent voice inside him sighed in vain.

Ten thousand more silent voices sighed in unison.

…

He always see her on that same bus stop every morning. She rides on the same bus as his. He always try to sit a few seats away from her–close enough to see her face but far enough to not be noticed. He had always wanted to talk to her; to ask her name and get to know her. But he is afraid. So he just sat there looking at her. It’s always been like this eversince.

Today was different. She was not on the bus stop when he arrived. He boarded the bus wishing she was there. She isn’t. Just as the bus is leaving, she catches up. She looks for a vacant seat and found one–on his side.

As the bus moved forward, he opened his mouth to say hi. But the bus honked its horn loudly just in time. He lost courage again. He just sat there beside her silently the whole ride.

…

As he stood there on the roof of that tallest building in the city, he shouted random words of curses and praises to random names of people. His was the only noise up there.

As he look up from the ground, he can only see the man’s mouth moving but no words being heard.

As she look out from the bus window, she can only hear the negotiation talks of the police through his amplifier.

As she sat there on her corner office, she can only hear the music on her mp3 player and see below a crowd of people all looking up.

He cursed her boss in her corner office for firing him. He cursed the lady in the bus who never notice him. He praised the police for trying their best. (He can’t hear them anyway). A voice whispered into his ear. Then he felt he was falling. From silence, the sound of the amplifier faded in. It became louder and louder and louder.

Then a complete silence.

The Real Story of Palito

Far East Database

File M2810-1059P

Keyword: Corps of Comedians

Start transmission…

The pressure of the second World War necessitated the creation of a local intelligence task force to serve the Philippine government. Secret agents were commissioned using the most unexpected guise, that of slapstick, over-the-top comedians of the so called golden age of Philippine Cinema.

The government realized that it is not capable of reaching the level of stealth and vast intelligence networks exhibited by counterparts from the U.S., Russia or Japan. Instead, the government capitalized the absurdity and implausibility of using actors (specifically comedians) as agents for infiltration and information-gathering. Thus, the Corps of Comedians was formed, albeit, underground.

Reporting directly to the Chief of Intelligence, the corps started on simple missions such as identifying military heads and authorities and their social relations. In parallel, they report to their booking managers and perform signing tours, press appearances, shootings and tapings among others.

One of the corps’ best agents is codename Pilato; derived from Poncius Pilate who washed his hands from any responsibility of Jesus’ nailing on the cross. As indicated by his codename, comedian Pilato is conditioned to deny any accountability for the Philippine government in case of capture.

A former drummer and horse jockey, Pilato is endowed with a very petite and nimble physique. He has a very thin yet sturdy bone structure native to his hereditary bloodline and molded by years of rigid military training. Despite his light anatomy, he is a specialist in the operation, assembly and disassembly of medium to heavy artillery weapons. He is also well-trained in stealth operations and spy missions. In addition, he has a special ability to slow down his body metabolism and other processes thereby simulating death or almost dying.

As his official cover, he appears in movies that reflect and camouflage his roles in the corps. Thus, his comedic alter-ego has starred in films that feature the lead actor as a clumsy or stupid war soldier (think of a frail Rambo, or a skeleton with a gattling gun) or even spy movies in the vein of James Bond wherein the lead comedian is again another very thin agent. He may also star in other movies showcasing his other skills such as pretending to be dead (zombies, vampires, dead person etc).

As the comedian, his callsign is Palito (or ‘Matchstick’ in Filipino) in reference to his very thin, stick-like built.

These covers create a sense of outrageousness which erases any image of this actor as a real military agent. And so, agents like Pilato continue to appear in the real world as soldiers and spies without them being suspected by opposing governments. They continue their military and spy training openly with their consistent excuse being that they are shooting a movie.

As the war rages on indefinitely, the corps of comedians would carry on various missions, some of which would result to casualties. The corps continues to feed useful information to the government to aid in the ongoing war. At the same time, they continue to feed hilariously entertaining movies to the viewing public. Every comedian of the corps knows that the next movie they make may actually be their last take.

End Transmission

Dreamjob

One hundred and seventeen minutes before midnight–the desolation inside and darkness outside began to creep into my bones (but then it might just be the air conditioning.) The boredom and monotonicity of work coupled with nice mellow music is putting me into some kind of "mental and spiritual trance" (but then again I might just be getting sleepy.)

Like a few good bottles of beer, the sentimental-slash-love-slash-break-up songs in my media player began to kick in.

I started to dream wistfully…

I dreamt of a house… a car… a beautiful wife…beautiful kids…a luxurious lifestyle…a high paying job.

.

.

.

.

My manager woke me up the next morning. Then I was fired.

4th 7th

I am a world-creator.


At daytime, I'm an office drone. I sit in front of a worn-out computer and work from 8 till 5 every single day of the week.

After work, I go to my favorite restaurant and buy my dinner. I pass by the videostore and buy a DVD or two. I eat my dinner in bed and watches a movie until I fall asleep.

But once in a while, I sense something from inside me. Deep in the night, I wake up.

I get my cap. I put on my dark glasses and wear my long black vest.

I head out into the dark treacherous night.

And I buy crystal meth.


I create worlds.

Third Seventh

Superlove


He is known everywhere as the Uberman, the defender of the innocent. He keeps watch of the city against the evil machinations of the evil Mr. EvilMan.

He met Lara on a recent hostage crisis successfully resolved by peaceful intervention; 'her' being the hostage and 'him' being the "peaceful intervention".

They started dating afterwards.

On their first date, he flew her in the clouds, looking down on the metropolis nightlights only after he cleaned the overcasting pollution over the city.

On their second date, she watched as he summon a huge tornado of water from the Manila Bay, direct it over the island and blow cool air on the falling water thereby creating a snowfall over the hot city-scape.

On their third date, he gave her a large diamond ring made from compacted coal dumps from the Benguet quarries.

On their fourth date, he made her a display of "meteor shower" by gathering all the garbage dumps in the country then compacting them into large balls of trash and hurling them from outer space towards the earth.

As his alter-ego, he is Clint Kane, a lowly obituary writer of the local newspaper. In this disguise, Lara doesn't know his true identity. He likes it that way. He knows that his identity might become a leverage for Mr. EvilMan.

As Clint, he wants to know Lara in a different light. He wants to chat with her over coffee. He wants to stroll in the park with her. He wants to play in the rain with her. Sweet nothings.

But he just can't.

That evening, as Uberman, he made her an amber necklace made from dead trees from the Amazon rainforest.