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And a fucking good one too. I’m not being crude. This a simple statement of fact.

The beloved author of children’s books and macabre short stories we all grew up with, like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (twice made into popular movies) James and the Giant Peach (which became a Walt Disney – Tim Burton production) and The Witches (which also made it to the big screen), was a major operative in the British spy ring operating in Washington D.C. during World War II. The group included Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond. The U.S. was an ally, but there were many isolationists and anti-British groups and personages that needed to be spied upon and, whenever possible, neutralized.

Dahl was a wartime ace with the Royal Air Force, who was wounded fighting in the African theater and was later transferred to Washington as an assistant air attache.

His exploits (sexploits ?) are chronicled in a new book “The Irregulars:Roald Dahl and the British Spy Ring in Wartime Washington” by Jennet Conant. Part of his duties, per Conant, was to gather bedroom intelligence through “pillow talk”, in the quaint terminology of the time. This simply involved sleeping around in the line of duty. According to The Times, his conquests included Millicent Rogers, the glamorous heiress to a Standard Oil fortune and Clare Boothe Luce, a right-wing congresswoman and the sexually frisky wife of the founder and publisher of Time magazine, who was regarded as anti-Brit. Apparently, not as far as bedmates were concerned.

Dahl would later whine to friends that Boothe Luce, 13 years his senior, had left him “all fucked out” after three nights of bedroom capers. Doubtless, it was “hard” duty. Dahl complained to the British Ambassador, Lord Halifax, who reminded him of a scene from a movie about Henry VIII, in which Henry goes into the bedroom with Anne of Cleves, saying: “The things I’ve done for England“. Dahl soldiered on.

And I thought James Bond was tough.

A review from Publisher’s Weekly:

What could be more intriguing than the young writer Roald Dahl — destined to create such classics as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory — assigned by His Majesty’s Government to Washington, D.C., as a diplomat in the spring of 1942, charged with a secret mission? Dahl’s brief was to gather intelligence about America’s isolationist circles (indeed, he infiltrated the infatuated Claire Boothe Luce in more ways than one) and propagandize for prompt American entry into the European war. The United States had technically been at war with Germany since December 1941. However, the U.S.’s attention was focused mainly on the Pacific theater — and such pro-German political figures as Luce and Charles Lindbergh meant to keep it that way. Dahl’s most important job was to influence public opinion generally and the opinions of Washington’s powerful specifically. As bestselling author Conant shows in her eloquent narrative, Dahl’s intriguing co-conspirators included future advertising legend David Ogilvy and future spy novelist Ian Fleming. Most fascinating, though, is Dahl’s relationship with the great British spymaster William Stephenson, otherwise known as ‘Intrepid.’ This all boils down to a thoroughly engrossing story, one Conant tells exceptionally well.

Roald Dahl with Ernest Hemingway in 1944. Photo from newsweek.com

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But this KFC commercial is just plain stupid. It shows executive-type yuppies, all male, young and good-looking, gathered around a conference table. The alpha-guy, from appearances, is at the head of the table and says ominously that someone in the group in keeping a presumably dark secret. He then brings out some KFC shrimp tempura, and this one dork suddenly and involuntary squawks like a chicken, like a stereotypical fag actually, thus revealing what is hinted at as his homosexual predilections. He is effectively “outed” by the group and the last scene shows him stuffing his face with shrimp and the guys smirking and condescendingly saying that they “accept” him as he is after all.

How dumb is that, even from just the marketing point of view ? This ad effectively risks alienating at least fifty percent of potential customers, women and gays. Notice that there are no girls around, this being a strictly “guy” thing. But the most voracious tempura eaters I know are female.

It also says that those seemingly uncomfortable about openly proclaiming their unconventional personal leanings should be ridiculed as girlie men. That they should take it without complaint and just eat shrimp tempura. Serves them right for trying to hide it in the first place.

This is thinly disguised homophobia – an irrational fear of or discrimination against homosexuals or the fear that people might misperceive you as gay.

I know the sketch is meant to be humorous. But it’s not. It’s just lame. And this from a company I admire for its fertile creativity in rolling out endless product variations from plain ol’ chicken. What would the Colonel say ?

An interesting side topic: Sex and KFC make Christmas in Japan.

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It seems the people behind the series found the Egyptian plot line wearing thin and moved the action to China. This was surely designed to appeal to a wider audience, specially in the mainland, where a flood of bootleg DVDs can be expected. It opened big in Hong Kong.

Brandan Fraser reprises his role as the swashbuckling adventurer Rick O’Connell, but no Rachel Weisz as Evelyn O’Connell, who is replaced here by Maria Bello. This might disappoint viewers who will miss the chemistry between Fraser and Weisz, whose spirited portrayal of Evelyn would be hard to duplicate.

Otherwise, the fight scenes are just as exciting, if a tad predictable. And the special effects are stunning. Jet Li is in fine form, as is the always luminous Michelle Yeow, and both more than do justice to the obligatory martial arts sequences.

I also found the colorful and romanticized depiction of Shanghai before the communist takeover particularly entertaining.

There are few surprises though, for those who saw the first two Mummy pictures. However, as the latest serving in the epic action movie genre, it serves its purpose as weekend entertainment. The strikingly beautiful Isabella Leong would be enough reason to see this flick.

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The City is of Night; perchance of Death
But certainly of Night

- The City of Dreadful Night, James Thomson

The hype surrounding “The Dark Knight“, and predominantly good reviews, has ensured that this will be the biggest Batman blockbuster of them all. And assures that the franchise will flourish for at least the next two or three sequels.

Of course, the tragic death of Heath Ledger has created an inordinate amount of interest in his portrayal of Batman’s arch-nemesis, the psychopathic killer, the Joker. He doesn’t disappoint. Played with maniacal, almost reptilian, relish by Ledger, he makes Jack Nicholson’s earlier Joker look like Alfred E. Neuman by comparison. Ledger’s Joker is a one-man terrorist movement, as destructive and amoral as a typhoon, singularly focused on the destruction of the Batman and anyone else who might get in the way. He’s scary like a coiled snake, you can’t tear your eyes off him.

He and the Dark Knight (Christian Bale) are drawn to each other, like twins separated at birth. As the Joker likes to remind Batman, they’re more alike than he cares to admit. Everyone is potentially insane. All it takes is a little push.

This is not the “Batman and Robin” of our childhood. Dark and grim, there’s little of the camp and antic levity found in the first two Tim Burton movies of the series, which ushered in the present-day Batman era. Gone too is the oft-imitated Gothic atmosphere. This Gotham is a gritty, contemporary urban setting, with all the glitter, menace and random violence of a crime-ridden megapolis, much like New York (with a nod to Hong Kong, for additional global appeal).

Director Christopher Nolan, who also wrote the screenplay with brother Jonathan, imbues the superhero with a gravitas not found in previous incarnations. Nolan has himself described Batman as a “grim character” and his movie as “operatic”. It is that, and more. There’s romance, pathos and tragedy, but also action. Lots of it. So much in fact that the action sequences can be a bit confusing and exhausting.

There’s of course the expected Bat-toys, from his Batmobile, wide-tire bike, gear, weaponry and other high-tech Bat-stuff , to make sure that the merchandising side of the business is taken care of.

Despite some improbable philosophical and moral dilemmas, “The Dark Knight” has sympathetic, believable characters and a taut storyline worth your hard-earned bucks and two and a half hours of your life.

The Scientific American explains why Batman is a realistic superhero, much like Iron-Man. He has no special powers from being born on a distant world or bitten by a radioactive spider. All he has is his billions and a will to develop his physique and fighting skills in order to eradicate crime in Gotham City, thereby avenging the death of his parents.

“The Dark Knight” took in a record $155.34 million in its first weekend, topping the previous best of $151.1 million for “Spider-Man 3″.

Christian Bale shows his dark side, is accused of assaulting his mother and sister just before the European premiere of the latest Batman movie. Joker’s psychosis contagious ?

A psychological explanation for the family conflict manifesting at this point in Christian Bale’s career.

Christian Bale has the Joker under his skin.

Trivia: Bale’s stepmother is none other than feminist icon and author Gloria Steinem. What would she say to this unseemly display of male dominance and aggression ?

The obvious question, from Peter Travers of Rolling Stone:

What about the Heath Ledger factor? His performance as the Joker is award caliber. But would The Dark Knight have so stirred your interest or grossed nearly as much if Ledger had been alive at the time of its release? A macabre question, but a valid one.

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Thus, in a recent issue of Business World (January 21, 2008), a regular columnist of this Manila business daily, Mr. Filomeno “Men” Sta. Ana III, wrote an item on “UP at 100″, in which he rightfully points out that UP’s slogan for its 100th anniversary: “UP, Ang Galing Mo!” betrays the brittle confidence that we have about UP. Like a barnyard chicken in backward, decrepit farm, the university crows about its greatness to a world that hardly cares, or even knows, that it exists.

To be sure, the THES-QS World University Rankings underscores the obvious fact that ranking is highly correlated with a country’s level of development and prosperity. Rich countries simply have more resources to provide its schools. But this does not explain how universities from our less-affluent neighbors, like Indonesia’s Bandung Institute of Technology, has left U.P. in the dust.

U.P.’s ills are many, the most critical being its perennial lack of funds. There are many reasons for this, including the usual bureaucratic waste which characterizes many government institutions. But the main cause is that the outdated U.P. Charter curtails the university’s fiscal autonomy, limits its ability to manage its own administrative and financial affairs and keeps it hostage to political interests. Needless to say, this has an adverse effect on the academic freedom so critical to the university’s role as a catalyst for social change.

It would surprise many to know that the University of the Philippines not even a national university. It simply considered as the “premier state university.” Thus, funding is subject to whims and caprices of politicians in the executive and legislative branches (not a few of whom are “loyal” alumni) who have their own agendas to push. In this we are an anomaly, as pointed out by Dean Raul Pangalangan, as all over the world, not just in Europe but even among our Southeast Asian neighbors, governments routinely fund their national, or imperial, or state universities as a matter of duty and political imperative.

But things are looking up, thanks to the rising sentiment that its time to give back to the institution that has given us, its alumni, if not the country, so much. It is good news that we have now begun to follow the American tradition of alumni-giving to the alma mater.

The Centennial Commission will has launched a fund campaign to raise P5 billion for, among others, scholarships and faculty grants, consisting of matching funds raised by alumni to top the national government’s budgetary commitment. The response has been very encouraging.

But even here we find some (delightful) irony, as the largest single individual contribution to the U.P. centennial (thus far) comes not from an alumnus but from engineer and Silicon Valley technopreneur Diosdado Banatao, a graduate of the Mapua Institute of Technology and Stanford University, who has pledged US$500,000 larger even that of the U.P. Alumni Engineers’ $400,000 pledge. It bears mentioning that Dado Banatao has always been a generous benefactor to the university, perhaps because he is married to a U.P. alumna, the former Maria Cariaga, and knows firsthand the joys and benefits of a life-long association with U.P.

I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a link to Mr. Sta. Ana’s article, which provides much food for thought. I therefore had to reproduce it here. Its rather longish, but worth reading for its insight and lucid prescriptions. Here it is.

UP AT 100

The day after the University of the Philippines or UP kicked off its celebration of its 100th year, we organized a get-together for a balikbayan pair – my cousin Lynnn and her husband Greg. The guest list was made up of mostly UP alumni, young activists of more than a generation ago. And so, I kind of expected that a conversation piece for the dinner would be about the UP of today and yesterday.

In that gathering was Soliman Santos, Jr. or Sol, someone who perhaps represents the UP ideal.

A text message has been circulating among UP alumni says that UP makes the best students. On the contrary, the truth is that the students who enter UP are already the best and the brightest. Take Sol, who entered UP in 1970. He comes from a a family of geniuses, although his sister Rayla thinks that the middle child Ricky is the most brilliant among the three siblings who all went to UP.

Sol graduated from the academically elite Philippine Science High School – but as an aside, this school likewise educated awful people like Sol’s classmate, Hermogenes Esperon. Upon entering UP, Sol obtained the prestigious National Science Development Board (NSDB) scholarship and took up a tough course, electrical engineering. Later, he deliberately dropped his NSDB scholarship not because his well-to-do-parents could easily afford his UP education but because maintaining the much coveted scholarship stood in the way of his desire to give more time and energy to student activism. He would thus shift to a “lightweight course” (Sol’s term, which could infuriate the history professors and majors). Despite activism – propaganda work, in particular – being his priority, Sol still excelled in his academics. He was a college and university scholar and he graduated cum laude.

But Sol’s life in UP was not limited to being an activist and scholar. He was a romantic, falling in love with a bohemian, Doods, who would later become his wife. And he was a non-barbarian, also known as a frat-man – being a dedicated member of the “great and glorious” Alpha Sigma.

I must confess that I’m praying tribute to Sol because I’d rather praise him now than follow his black-humored request that I give him a eulogy when that moment comes.

But really, without Sol inspiring me, I couldn’t have started writing this piece about UP. So here is Sol who personifies the best of UP- a bright and all-around person, not simply a scholar but truly a scholar of the people. And this guy loves UP; he cares for UP.

This long intro about Sol sets the stage for what he was to say on that occasion we had a get-together, the night after the formal opening of the UP centennial. When Sol together with Doods arrived for the dinner-and their entrance caught my attention because they came late – I sensed that Sol was prepared for a surprise statement. At first, I thought that it was a fashion statement. Sol wore a green De La Salle University T-shirt.

This is strange, we thought. Sol is the type who buys souvenir items from the University of the Philippines. So why not wear the UP shirt ? After all, 2008 is UP’s centennial.

Sol said he precisely wore the La Salle shirt as a statement of his protest against UP’s arrogance. He, like many of us, were revolted by UP’s slogan for its 100th anniversary: “UP, and galing mo!”

Sol and Doods opined that the UP authorities had apparently forgotten to use the symbol of the UP Oblation for the centenary. The Oblation represents an offering, the university’s offering to the Filipino people. Reaffirming the Oblation’s message is arguably the most fitting message for the UP centennial.

The slogan “UP, and galing mo!” sounds arrogant. But there’s a bigger problem than that: proclaiming “UP, ang galing mo!” betrays the brittle confidence that we have about UP.

It remains indisputable that UP is the best university in the Philippines. But this has always been the case for many decades and generations. Should UP compare itself to mediocre schools (relative to the rest of the world) ? Is UP content being a big fish in a small pond ? Or if UP were playing in a basketball or football tournament, would it prefer playing in the midget league, just so it would be ranked the best in that league ?

Arrogance is acceptable if we were a Muhammad Ali or a Michael Jordan or a Bobby Fisher. In the same manner, the UP’s arrogance is tolerable if it could at least approximate the standards of the best of the world.

Which brings us to the THES-QS World University Rankings (http://www.worlduniversityrankings.com/). The THES-QS ranking is measured in terms of five indicators, with corresponding weights , namely, peer review (40%), citations per faculty (20%), employer or recruiter review (20%), staff/student ratio (10%), international staff (5%), and international students (5%).

In 2007, UP was ranked number 398. As expected, the top 10 universities came from the United States and the United Kingdom – Harvard, Yale, Oxford, Cambridge, Imperial College, Princeton, Chicago, California Institute of Technology, University College and Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Among the top 50 in 2007 were Asian universities: University of Tokyo (17), University of Hong Kong (18), Kyoto University (25), National University of Singapore (33), Peking University (36), the Chinese University of Hong Kong (38) and Tsinghua University. Seoul National University missed the top 50 by a whisker.

The consolation is UP is the only Philippine university ranked in the world’s top 400 universities. The ranking for the next 401-500 universities is also available, with Ateneo De Manila University (ADMU) ranked number 451.

To be nearly at the bottom of the heap is bad enough. It is more embarrassing that universities in India, Thailand, Malaysia and even Indonesia have outclassed UP, which was once upon a time one of the best universities in Asia.

The people from UP or the UP alumni make fun of the other universities in the Philippines. DLSU (De La Salle University), so goes a UP jke, stands for “Di Lumusot sa UPCAT”. I do hope we UP alumni don’t get offended when a student from Yogjakarta’s Universitas Gadjah Mada – say, a dark-skinned Muslim whose English is unintelligible – makes a joke that UP stands for “Underachieving People”.

That can be jolting. But we do need a jolt. And UP’s centenary is the auspicious moment not only to celebrate UP’s offering to the country and the people but to sound the wake-up call for UP to reclaim its reputation as one of Asia’s leading universities.

The UP is fully aware what has to be done. It is, for example, necessary to legislate a new UP Charter that will make UP the national university. The charter should augment UP’s fiscal autonomy and augment its resources, insulate UP from political arbitrariness and patronage, safeguard academic freedom, strengthen academic excellence and facilitate UP’s role in serving the people and fostering national development.

The UP constituency cannot afford to be divided on key reforms. The reforms have long been delayed, partly because of the lack of consensus within the UP community. The administration must put in place an inclusive process that draws in the most vociferous voices in the university. And the UP activists must recognize, given the existence of a failed state and the severe national budget constraint, that it is to the UP’s and the nation’s interests to make UP less financially dependent on the national government.

UP’s internal reforms may not be enough, though. The problem of meeting the excellent academic standards is not endemic to UP. ADMU, DLSU and the University of Santo Tomas did not rank among the top 400 universities. So there lies a deeper problem for Philippine universities in general.

A cursory examination of the THES-QS World University Rankings shows that the ranking is highly correlated with a country’s level of development and prosperity.

So what should we do ? We can learn from Sol, the epitome of what a UP alumnus should be. As a UP alumnus, he goes out of his way to support UP in whatever form. He can even appeal to his fraternity brods in Malacanang or the Senate to secure the passage of the new UP Charter. At the same time, as a true scholar of the people, he has consistently participated in the struggle to rebuild severly damaged Philippine institutions. Only when we make the institutions work can we see the country prosper, which in turn will enable the UP as well as the other schools to become world class and indisputably excellent.

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I identified with the main character, Charlie Brown (as did millions of others, including U.S. President Ronald Regan), who was later to be eclipsed by his swashbuckling and debonair dog, Snoopy. To a jaded MTV generation used to the admittedly visually stunning SFX of today’s multimedia, it may be hard to fathom the impact a simple, daily black-and-white (except for Sundays) comic strip had on our generation.

As explained by Charles McGrath in a review published in the New York Times :

“He transformed the newspaper cartoon strip, busy and cluttered by the time he turned up in the late ’40s, by flooding it with white space, and by reducing his childish characters to near abstraction — huge circular heads balanced on tiny bodies — he rendered them far more expressive than their cartoon peers. The strip was able to register grown-up emotions, like anxiety, depression, yearning, disillusionment, that had never been in cartoons before. Instead of the “Slam!” “Bam!” “Pow!” sound effects that were the lingua franca of the comics, it employed a quieter, more eloquent vocabulary: “Aaugh!” and “Sigh.”

“Peanuts” was beloved by everyone: by hipsters and college kids (in the ’60s especially); by presidents (Ronald Reagan once wrote Schulz a fan note, saying he identified with Charlie Brown); by the Apollo 10 astronauts, who named their orbiter and landing vehicle after Charlie and Snoopy; by ministers and pastors, who read moral and theological lessons into the strip; by the suits in Detroit, who paid Charlie and the gang a small fortune to shill for the Ford Falcon. At its peak the strip reached 300 million readers in 75 countries; 2,600 papers and 21 languages every day.”

It was obvious to fans that “Peanuts” was autobiographical and that the model for Charlie Brown was Schulz himself. Like many geniuses, Schulz was full of contradictions. The devoted father and family man, who was so deeply religious he never smoked, drank or swore, was also somewhat of a ladies’ man. He had one full-fledged affair and, after divorcing his wife of more than twenty years, married a girl 16 years his junior. Even after he achieved enormous financial success and recognition, he remained shy and insecure, and held deep grudges lasting decades, even going back to childhood. He was often moody, withdrawn and self-absorbed (what artist isn’t ? ). No matter. He was human after all and, whatever his personal shortcomings might have been, the authenticity of his characters and his deep affection for his audience shone through his work.

“Peanuts” gave us a preview of what life would be as adults. It taught us simple but immutable lessons. Life is hard but good friends will help you through. Unrequited love can break your heart yet you let it happen anyway. One can have a rich, adventure-filled inner life, like Snoopy, even while living a mundane, dog-like existence.

Even now, there are times when happiness for me is a warm puppy.

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She left me with my snack and after I was done, returned with small bottles of gel disinfectant and massage oil and proceeded to knead me at the table. She was good too, properly trained with the certificate to prove it, with just the right strong-but-gentle touch. It took her 5-10 minutes to work each appendage, during which I had a chance to chat her up. Burger King hired her to do just that, massage customers in the most literal sense, and she has been doing this since March 2007. She has her regular customers who come in daily for a sandwich and a rub. I asked for a foot massage but she graciously declined in order not to ruin the other customers’ appetites.

Whoever thought of this should be given an award at the next Burger King employees’ recognition night. A burger joint cum spa. I left the place with a smile. Just the thing to take the edge off the mid-day traffic as I drove back to the office.
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To be sure, after the elimination rounds, the talent level and quality of performance increases dramatically. It then morphs into a real talent contest, which can produce genuine diamonds-in-the-rough. Witness Jennifer Hudson of “Dreamgirls” fame, an Idol alum who did not even win the top spot.

But before that it can be a freak show, particularly the first few episodes which feature “William Hung” type contestants. These people supposedly joined the auditions knowing what to expect and are aware that they may possibly fall flat on their faces on prime-time T.V. But the human capacity for self-delusion apparently knows no limits. A good number of these “singers” have absolutely no talent and were obviously put before the judges for their aberrant qualities, to be put down and embarrassed by the acid-tongued Simon Cowell and Randy Jackson and occasionally, Paula Abdul (who was reportedly drunk during some of the tapings).

I must confess I felt some uneasiness, particularly when you see the naked, desperate look in the eyes of the contestants as they beg for inclusion into the next round. A few seemed truly demented. It was painful to watch as their last shreds of sanity and dignity were ripped apart by Simon et. al.

Its grotesque. Its burlesque. It’s the highest-rating show on U.S. television. And I fear its addictive.

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The IPhone combines the music and video functions of an iPod with the communication functions of a smartphone. It is 11.6 millimeters thin and has a 8.9 centimeter screen. Instead of a scroll wheel, users will navigate through their files and perform tasks via the touch-sensitive screen. Calls can be made on a virtual keyboard that pops up onscreen as needed. For the moment, content can will have to be uploaded from users’ computers as Apple had yet to finalize licensing agreements with music labels and other content providers to sell their wares on the IPhone. However, Apple made sure that it had the cooperation of Google and Yahoo to bring popular internet features like Yahoo Mail and Gmail to the product.

There are no earth-shaking innovations or features in the IPhone. However, Apple CEO Steve Jobs is so confident of his market position that he predicts the IPhone will have the same impact as the Macintosh PC and the iPod. At least 10 million IPhones are expected to be sold within the next two years.

There’s an IPhone in your future.

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Nothing new there. A local coffeehouse chain, Bo’s, has been serving a palm civet coffee, called “Café Alamid”, for some time now. The civet cat (although it has feline features, it is more closely related to the mongoose ), known domestically as alamid, supposedly eats only the choicest coffee beans which it then passes out whole. This coffee, presumably, is enhanced by gastric juices and various enzymes that only a civet cat gut can provide. At around US$ 4.50 (P225) for a small cup, civet coffee is not for the budget-conscious.

I suppose this is better than eating the poor civet cat, which is a prized delicacy in southern China and some parts of the Philippines, where it is cooked adobo-style. Still, there’s something a little absurd about this trend of more exotic and more expensive coffees. And its not just coffee. Just last night, at one of the trendier places east of Manila, I was munching on a premium cupcake (cost: about P75.00 or US$1.50). Afterwards, in an even trendier coffeehouse, I had a cup of a premium coffee blend “with just a hint of dipped finger of disgruntled waitress” (P125.00 or US2.50). While these prices may be reasonable in the U.S., this is unconscionably expensive by Philippine standards.

And for a gulper like me, with a decidedly pedestrian palate, one coffee is just like any another. I honestly can’t tell one “premium” blend from the other. Am I supposed to swirl the first mouthful of a fresh pot around and then spit it out in order to discover its “delicate” qualities ? What about donuts or cupcakes ? All I want is the caffeine and/or sugar buzz.

Maybe I’m just trying to justify the fact that’s I’m a cheapskate, but I’ll always be happy with my Café Puro, Blend 45 (forty-five choice coffee beans in every cup!), Great Taste or Nescafe instant. Now if I can just get our Siamese cat to acquire a taste for fresh coffee beans…

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