i alan lightman

over the weekend, somebody (who will remain anonymous for evidently unacceptable reasons) did his long overdue, personal tech project in the office and stumbled onto a book titled einstein's dreams by alan lightman. he decided to bring it home hoping to finish it before the owner knows it was lifted from the office bookshelves. when he passed by my place, i managed to snatch the book from his hand. just as well, he said (i imagined himself saying that, relieved to have shared an unacceptable deed with someone else).

procrastinating for the ⁿth time on my fso review, i leafed through book's pages and got totally wrapped up in lightman's image-laden vignettes. here, he writes of this cyclical world:

"Suppose time is a circle, bending back on itself. The world repeats itself, precisely, endlessly...

In the world in which time is a circle, every handshake, every kiss, every birth, every word, will be repeated precisely. So too every moment that two friends stop becoming friends, every time that a family is broken because of money, every vicious remark in an argument between spouses, every opportunity of a superior's jealousy, every promise not kept.

And just all things will be repeated in the future, all things now happening happened a million times before..."

he continues to vividly describe other worlds juxtaposed with and justified by albert einstein's theories of relativity and time. unlike stephen hawking's a brief history of time, einstein's dreams has made me appreciate a book that deals with science. in it i discovered my new imagery guru who is not only a brilliant writer but a published physicist as well.

"this is not the tale of heroic feats."

this is for you gael

after watching motorcycle diaries yesterday afternoon, i realized i was overly engrossed in knowing one famous man's life-altering roadtrip (but most probably in gael garcia bernal, the latin actor who portrayed ernesto guevara in the film) i barely noticed the half-filled, 7-eleven big uhaw glass of mountain dew. it was perched on my keyboard holder, left unattended for two straight hours. the soda has turned very warm indeed. i contemplated on finishing its contents but thought better of it. this disposable glass has kept me company, without reproach. it bared witness on how i was crooning over this guy who, in amorres perros taught me to curse in spanish; introduced me to another latino hunk, diego luna, in y tu mama tambien; and opened my eyes on the stark similiraties between mexico and philippines in el crimen del padre amaro. what better way to honor this glass but through a sketch for posterity.

i'm now a sucker for reality game shows because...

1.) i cried over stephanie lagrossa's untimely boot out from survivor palau.
2.) i vowed not to watch shrug off invites from friends just to catch the rest of this season's episodes broadcast live every wednesdays, 9 a.m. by studio 23 because. i have no one left to root for now. everyone is just boring.
3.) i hated the way koror hoodwinked her into thinking a new alliance will be formed among the girls, hence, saving stephenie from at least two more tribal councils.
4.) i can't wait for this week's ar7 episode because im keeping my fingers crossed for gretchen and meredith's tandem to win the race; and
5.) i know that without them, ar7 will not be as comical as it is this season.


p.s.
i haven't monitored them pretty closely, but donald trumps' the apprentice and richard branson's rebel billionaire are promoted as another creative materials of television networks' disguised exploitation of the consumerist market. (i know. i cant help but watch them, anyways).