The Fat Man Today

I remember when blogging was the  big thing. It was social media before the age of Twitter, Friendster (I'm dating myself, I know) and Facebook. And my decision to blog again - aside from having a curated space of sorts to show off my writing style - got me to thinking back to when I was one of the bloggers littering the worldwide web with thoughts from my very own soapbox. 

Just a small update ladies and germs. I've never really utilized this channel for self-publication (aside from using it as a reference), but that ends today. If you've stumbled upon my page and you need to have some content written, hit me up! I've placed a link to my Fiverr up on the navigation, so head on over to find out more. Or feel free to message me via the contact form (I've also placed this on the navigation bar, since I don't think people use sidebars nowadays).

I AM ALIVE! Yes ladies and gentlemen, or whatever form of creature out there reads my blog on a relatively regular basis, the fat man lives. The fat man is back, is still fat, and is surprisingly spending more of his time actually writing sensible work-related things. Me, during a fit of work-induced insanity. Which is why I haven’t been writing. I usually clock out at the end of the day with my mind so beat that the only form of creative writing I could take is playing something on the DS; I have recently just finished Golden Sun: Dark Dawn (a wonderful follow-up to the first two games on the GBA, complete with a despicable cliffhanger), and will be proceeding to replay Final Fantasy Tactics Advance 2, which I threw away in disgust when my original save file vanished, more than two years ago. This sounds terribly complicated, but the truth is that when I finish working, I pack my laptop into my bag, step out of my office in the first floor of the house, shove off for my roo...

Some time ago, a friend asked me for my opinion of old Pinoy writers. Suffice it to say that my opinion isn’t worth much; I have this dislike for most of the old guard. My reasons for disliking them aren’t really that deep, but I can’t help but think that they’re the reason why we’re caught in a vicious cycle of sub par local entertainment. Nick Joaquin. National artist. Beer Drinker. Taken from Bulatlat . Which isn’t to say that I dislike all of them. I have great respect for Jose Rizal, especially after I read his works in English (my mind processes the English language better than Tagalog). And by far, my favorite Pinoy writer of all time is Nick Joaquin. My very first encounter with Joaquin’s work was, as you would expect, required reading when I was a freshman in college. This was May Day Eve , a story about passionate love turned bitter. You know how each writer has a flagship work; Hemingway has either For Whom the Bell Tolls or The Old Man and the Sea . Vonnegut has...

I was supposed to write on a daily basis, but that doesn't always happen - and for a myriad of reasons. Every writer gets to a point where they hit that wall, and find it hard to keep on going. Some folks call it the writer's block. I call it the dark little time where you curl up like a ball in your bed and cry yourself to sleep because you can't write something even remotely decent. Yeah,writer's block is probably a better word for it.

It’s halfway through September, and I’m quite pleased to note that I haven’t written anything even remotely full-on political on this blog. And no, that Celdran article was not even close to political.

One of the things you learn when managing a team of writers is that sooner or later, you have to lay down preventive quality control measures. This is not unlike the local municipality enforcing baranggay level laws that allow public wrecking crews to tow illegally parked vehicles (that is to say, Metro Manila vehicles without stickers).