Will the Real Bruce Almighty Please Stand Up

If you're like me and haven't seen enough of the Green Giant since moving out of the continent of North America, you'll be thrilled to know that he just made a movie. Move out of the way, Neo, step aside, Wolverine, because with muscle strength like the Terminator and moves like Super Mario, this guy is way up there with Jackie Chan.

Being a fan of Spiderman, I don't plan to mock anything created by Marvel Comics. So that leaves me just enough room to trash the style in which the epic was presented on the big screen. The Incredible Hulk took a risk proportional to the size of his eight-pack going from Stan Lee to Ang Lee, as it had proven to take him one giant step off beam on the highway to fame, with just about every other Marvel superheroes at the finish line wondering what the hold up is. And by giant step I mean GIANT STEP, as the Hulk is able to travel to Rome and back in no more than three and a half leaps.

I've had days when I enjoyed reading comic books, and I appreciated the classic, traditional way a story is laid out on the pages. But when you try to use that template in a motion picture, it just doesn't quite fit. The diagonal line sweeping across the screen to go into the next scene is lame even on personal homepages; and the split scenes and the mobile picture-in-picture effects just amuse me the way Richard Simmons would if he tried to play straight. They might as well have slapped on handwritten words in a bubble every time a character had a thought, and cover the screen with a POW at every punch thrown. All of the above and the same color spectrum they used back when color television was first launched reminded me of the Brady Bunch.

And is it just me or did they manage to make Jennifer Connelly appear about seven times uglier than she should be? It seems as if she's aged 10 years since appearing as Mrs. Nash. Damn those Gamma rays.

Now, Versace's question: What kind of Acme pants leave intact a perfect boxer-shaped portion whilst everything else on him shreds to dust every time the Hulk emerges?! (For the purpose of this discussion, let's put aside for a moment that the pants are purple.) A 15-foot giant in the pants of a medium built man is definitely pushing the limits of spandex and the like. And I've disqualified the possibility of them being spandex, the hem of the pants floated with his every move. I was more or less relieved to find out that it wasn't Ang Lee's idea. The last thing a Taiwanese director in Hollywood wants to convey is stupidity. "It's a question I always had myself: 'How come his pants always stay on?'" Lee says in an interview. "I thought he should be naked."

But with biceps the size of SUVs, the potentials for his *hm-hm* would be too farfetched for a PG-13 blockbuster. As Nick Nolte, who played Bruce Banner's father in the film, said, "I've seen a nude picture of the Hulk. It's not pretty; it can be used as a weapon. I can't see the Hulk having sex."

With the jaw-dropping ability to expand five times in size in seconds without a stretch mark to show for and that to contract to original size even quicker without a trace of loose skin, Banner is the real Bruce Almighty.

Table for Four

I went to bed around 2am last night, when those people living in the next flat, known as my neighbors, were playing midnight mahjong. Woke up this morning and they were still playing. I don't know if they had taken anything more than washroom breaks in between, but it is now 3pm and the noise hasn't stopped once.

For those of you who are not familiar with the game, it can be quite noisy. The way most Chinese people play anyway. Actually, most Chinese people are just noisy whatever they're doing. It would help if mahjong tiles were made of cork or Styrofoam or rubber or something. But as a player myself, I've tried playing with a set of paper mahjong before, and the quietness practically takes all the excitement away. But still, I would've thought the term "neighbor" implies that they'd be more "neighborly" than to start their world record-breaking marathon in the middle of a week. Not that I have to get up early in the morning or anything, but still. And this is yet another alarming indication that just about everyone is going jobless nowadays.

I can't swim and I can't ride a bike, but I can play mahjong. I never went through any training, I simply learned from observing. My parents and their families played regularly when I was little, so mahjong skills were one of the things carried on along with the family name. I can't say I have mastered the art though, for mahjong is half scheme and half luck. I seize little of one and know none of the other, so I usually end up losing big bucks.

It's been long said that because of the complications involved in the intriguing game, habitual mahjong playing would persistently stimulate brain activities and could well contribute preventive measures to Alzheimer's disease, or at least postpone the emergence of correlated symptoms. As such, I have no excuse to turn down my 85-year-old grandmother whenever she invites me for a match. And it is the only endeavor she still manages to stick with for hours at a time without falling asleep; she can even skip her afternoon nap for it.

On the other hand, I've heard numerous stories about older people dying of heart attacks on the mahjong table by winning with a hand apparently too nice to handle. But hey, when you're old and have heart problems, there really isn't a better way to kick the bucket. At least, this way, you'll die a winner and live forever as a legend.


Chew on this: What's your favorite sound? (Spit it out in the comments section.)

ME: I've been asked this question before and the answer remains unchanged to this day. My favorite sound is my laughter. I enjoy hearing other people laugh too, but there can only be one favorite. (Yeah, selfish bitch I am.) I laugh loud about small things; it's a good way to release all the pent-up you-name-it from inside. I can be reading an article on TIME magazine and break out in one of my frantic laughs. And I can get carried away sometimes, but only when I'm really happy.

Because I'm a Writress

Does our gender characterize what happens around us? Or does everything around us define our gender? Can a girl have the arm strength of Schwarzenegger and still be perceived as elegant? Must a man wearing lavender be at least bisexual?

A while ago, Oprah (Yes, I was watching Oprah!) did a feature on transgender; the guest was one who had recently gone through multiple medical procedures in attempt to rediscover the woman inside a man's body. During the time period when James was not yet completely transformed into Jenny, he could effortlessly present himself as, and as such be perceived as, either a man or a woman depending on his mood. One day he decided to test out the ultimate. How would a woman be treated different from a man? On the first day, he went to an auto dealer, as James, and showed interest in purchasing a car. The salesperson opened the hood and showed James the engine, throwing in details about tank capacity and horsepower etc., before they went for a test drive at speed like they were fugitives fleeing the state. The next day Jenny walked into the same dealer and showed interest in the same car James did the day before. The salesperson never once offered to open the hood, or mention anything under it. Instead, Jenny got to see the nice cup holders ever so handily located right next to the driver's seat. Jenny also got to test drive the car, under if not at speed limit, with the salesperson elaborating on the safety features of the car the entire way.

I agree that the difference can be explained as sales tactics. A salesperson should approach each customer from a distinct angle depending on what kind of need the individual customer has. And apparently, James and Jenny needed different things, from the same thing. Would the salesperson have been more surprised if Jenny had questions regarding horsepower or if James had inquired about cup holders?

In the end, James purchased the car. Not because Jenny felt the car was not safe enough, but because James got a better discount than Jenny. Hm...

Opposites can never be equal. There's no doubt that male and female of the same species behave differently, and are expected to behave differently. For instance, do waiters and waitresses have different titles because they're assigned different responsibilities? But when it comes to doctors and pilots, the only way to refer to them gender-specifically is to add the word "female" in front; equivalently, add "male" in front of occupations like nurses and strippers. (Those were the only two I could think of.) You might have preferences to male/female doctors because of what they see of you, and you would have preferences over male/female strippers because of what you see of them. Most of the time we can expect to see an actress play a female role in a film, but would we expect a salesman to sell male products? Do female high school grads automatically enroll to second year of college because first year is for freshmen? Are women not kind enough to be included as mankind? Is a master the male equivalent of a mistress? And is a witch the female equivalent of a wizard?

I have no point. But maybe this is the kind of thing you can expect from a female writer.

But evidently, everything else around you would behave differently if you were the opposite sex. Male are entitled to some benefits somewhere that female aren't, and vice versa. Who really has the advantage? Unless you're Jenny, you're not likely to ever find out.

If someone asked me which sex I'd want to be if I were given the choice, I would stick with what I have, not because I'm unwilling to explore the benefits of being the opposite sex, but because I don't want to give up those I'm entitled to as is.

Writer's Picks

I currently fancy the following:

Sound: Norah Jones, though I'd appreciate it more if she wrote her own music.

Big Screen: Bruce Almighty, reminded me of one of my all-time favorites, The Truman Show. Combining humor and philosophy is the way to go with me.

Small Screen: Friends, never stopped being a fan, even though it's only showing on Sunday nights in Hong Kong and I hardly ever catch it.

DVD: Sex and the City, again, never stopped being a fan, even though I don't have HBO and the God knows when they'll release the last two seasons on DVDs. I've already watched the fourth season five times!

Reading: The Alchemist, I still like The Little Prince better, but this is one I've recently read and enjoyed. (Thx SK.)

Self-Enhancement: Mandarin, my process of learning involves text and audio, as well as a daily dose of TV from Taiwan. I'm really hoping this can officially become my third tongue.

On the face: Neutrogena Fine Fairness Mask, as if I'm not fair enough, but hey, it was on sale.

On the body: Miss Sixty, have been a longtime slave to this brand. Recently noticed that at least part of its manufacture has moved from Italy to Hong Kong, thus the line is considerably more affordable than before. But then its status also moves that much closer to GAP.

Bored Game: Blogging, I try.

Heart Burn: Philly smoked salmon cream cheese on just about anything, mmmmmm...

Last... W--

I was at the bookstore yesterday and came across a book called Famous Last Words. In this book are records of the last words said by some great historical figures, why they said what they said, and how they died, etc. I thought to myself, quoting last words was probably the most sensible way to make money from dead people. So I stood there and went through pretty much the entire book. Hee.

A person's last words can be the most valid report of his/her life. For one, it tells whether or not the person has lived enough. As Sigmund Freud once said, "It is tragic when a man outlives his body." (Those were not his last words.)

For a man who has lived enough and is ready to go, pride is written all over his last words. Take Pablo Picasso for example, the biggest walking ego to have ever existed on the face of the earth. His last words were "Drink to me!" I like that idea though. If I die today, I'd like to think that my funeral serves as just another excuse for my friends and family to get drunk. After all, it is a farewell party.

On the other hand, you can see that a person is not ready to go when his/her last words deal with their obsession--their work. To show his undying dedication to providing hospitality, Conrad N. Hilton, founder of Hilton hotels, said "Leave the shower curtain on the inside of the tub" when asked if he had any last words of wisdom for the world. Dominique Bouhours, a preeminent French Jesuit grammarian who devoted his life to promoting high standards of correctness and purity in the French language, spent his last words stating "I am about to--or I am going to--die; either expressions are used." (He said it en Francais, of course.)

If and when you know your time is near, you have to be very careful what you say. If you're anyone of significance, your last words will matter. Queen of France, Marie Anttoinette's last words were "Pardonnez-moi, monsieur" after accidentally stepping on the foot of her executioner just before she was beheaded. Of course that shows, though convicted of treason, she was nonetheless polite. But in my opinion, if you're going to say something, say something meaningful. And keep it short, one-liners are ideal, to ensure you don't get cut off unfinished. But really, that's hard to control if you're the spontaneous type. Heinrich Heine, a German poet, apparently had something more to say, as his last words were "Write... write... pencil... paper."

If you don't have anything to say, that's cool too. But then you must make sure you keep your mouth shut. Alfred Rosenberg, a Nazi war criminal, said "No" when asked if he had any last words, hence "No" was recorded as his last word, singular. My favorite is Karl Marx. When asked by his housekeeper if he had any last words, he yelled "Go on. Get out! Last words are for fools who haven't said enough."

I have certain expectations of myself, and I'd like to think that my readers wouldn't settle for less either, you know, since I'm a writer and all. So I'm going to have to come up with some original, thought-provoking last words when my time comes. It's quite exciting to think that the last thing I'll ever try to do is to inspire. Better yet, I'll start brainstorming now. Because you never know what kind of situation you'll be in when the angels call. I think I'll go for something funky, with a little wit, like... well, I can't think of anything now. But if you're free then, make sure you grab a front row seat for my "performance of a lifetime". I promise I won't disappoint you.

I just hope that whoever writes my epitaph will be as creative.

Come Again Another Day

Was it just me or was that storm last night hovering right above my head the entire time?

Dry, sunny summers are one of the things I had to sacrifice moving back to Hong Kong. You see, in Hong Kong we don't really get summers. The only time of the year when we can actually try to enjoy what's supposed to be summer is May, when it's, most of the time, warm enough to wear summer clothes. By June it gets so hot that outings can be fatal. And before you know it, rain season starts and doesn't end till winter comes. And oh, just wait till the typhoons drop by, then you'll know we're in the middle of our SUMMER.

It's not even mid June and we have already been hit with the amber rain warning more times than I have claimed to go on diet. And it doesn't help that someone decided it was amusing to make the first level of rainstorm warning sound like a precious jewel.

In anticipation of rainy summers, I bought myself two nice umbrellas a couple of months ago. One retractable to keep in my bag everyday since one can never tell when it will start to drizzle in Hong Kong, and one regular umbrella because I have made my attempt to survive last summer with only a retractable umbrella and found out that the wind can make it tract and retract every which way. But really, an umbrella is just about useless in the cats and dogs we get unless you got one of those white-orange-green patio umbrellas. And a raincoat will not be a smart move unless you wear underneath it one of those boots-and-pants-in-one that go up to your armpits like people do on the Discovery Channel when they go stride in swamps in search of rare toads. And you will want to have that just-about-useless umbrella handy. "Just about useless" because there is actually some use to it. Without the wee bit protection provided by that umbrella in your hand, you'll realize that the whole purpose of everyone else on the streets holding an umbrella is to jab your eyes out.

Back to that storm last night, I swear to God it was right above my head. I have been more or less (ok, more) afraid of thunderstorms since I was a kid. They sound like an angry parent on the verge of insanity screaming at a child, probably for something he/she didn't even do. There! I think I've just cracked the code, the reason why I'm scared of thunderstorms is because it reminds me of the times when my mother used to scream at my brother and me like mad and beat us for things none of us can remember now.

The storm is still here.

(Your Name) Almighty

I am not going into the topic of religions. It is too immense of a controversy for myself alone; the last thing I intend is to start a riot among believers of various ethnic groups. And I do believe that... when you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are.

Being in the semi-pit that I am, in the midst of a marvel called life, Bruce Almighty served as an inspiring episode. Here are a few thoughts.

I can't recall having prayed ever since I graduated from high school. Neither would I consider what we were required to do in a Catholic school "praying", it was simply reciting certain poetry at certain times of the day. For those who pray to God for things they want, God said, "Since when does anyone have a clue about what they want?" This cannot be more true. I have missed count of incidences like considering switching majors four times each semester for the first three and a half years of college, or trying to decide on a career path (ha, as if I were given choices), or spending 15 minutes studying a drink menu, and in the end, can only come up with the answer "I don't know what I want, I only know what I don't want."

Is there a guideline to what kinds of things we can/cannot ask for from God? Is getting your prayers answered a mere stroke of luck? Like a "you wished for six things out of a possible 49, God grants you only one out of six, better luck next time" kind of deal? Are we confusing God with Santa Claus? And even so, my last letter sent to the North Pole has not yet been answered. I'm not saying praying is a waste of time. But if you have faith in what God says in Bruce Almighty, chances are, much of your wish list can be slashed off. Besides, in a world where we need digits and graphs to support just about everything, are we still able to realize it when God answers our prayers? "Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous" is director of Bruce Almighty, Tom Shadyac's favorite saying. Speaking of coincidences, read this freaky story reported by 20/20.

God (played by Morgan Freeman) said the problem with people is that they are always looking up and hence fail to realize the power that lies in their own hands. Have we become too dependent on God? There's a story about a nun who went to God and asked, "Why God don't you do something about the poor and the sick?" And He said, "I did, I made you." Now that's powerful. Rather than hoping that God will use his power to make things better for us, isn't it more reassuring to believe that such power comes with when He creates each and every one of us? All of God's creations are miracles, and so we are. But life is God's way of playing hide-and-seek with us, the object being to discover that potential miracle from within ourselves, which He had hidden so well.

And when you succeed in finding that miraculous power within yourself, ye may too stretch out your arms and holler, "I am (your name) Almighty! My will be done!"

For the director's view of the film, check out this interview.

Agent Smith

I hate my name. I've always hated my name. Besides having the same name as a yellow male cartoon character with a beer belly, my name is the female equivalent of John Smith among the Chinese community. Up to now, I have met at least 30 people with the same name as I. Every time I come across a new one, I can't help but feel like one of many duplicates from a despicable mass production plant, me being the better copy of course. I lived through two painful years in high school because one of my friends with whom I shared four classes with had the same name as me, FIRST AND LAST! For two years I could only be identified by a number.

I am not going to change my name. My first name is as precious as my last. Though, my first name is also as common as my last name. Actually, the majority of the Chinese population suffers from the same dilemma, we're all really Smith Smith's. One could easily find a couple dozen Jackie Chan's on the same subway train at any given time of the day in Hong Kong. But I do realize the importance of names. So I think it makes sense to think ahead and, every now and then, jot down nice unique-sounding names carrying special meanings for future reference. I'd like to think that preventing them from the deep-rooted predicament would be the least I could provide for my children or pets.

The trouble of being a John Smith is phenomenal. Try setting up an email account without being suggested using a few underscores and a string of meaningless numbers behind your name. Or try retrieving your profile from your college student center or the Cosco membership database and not be asked for additional information to shortlist you from the 637 other John Smith's, then for additional additional information to further shortlist you from the 125 other John E. Smith's.

Before I can find a solution to this problem, I still enjoy cheering for my worn-out name once in a while. Hey, at least it sounds better than John when it comes to the Name Game. And so I chant on... Winnie Winnie bo binnie, banana fana fo finnie, fe fi mo minnie, Winnie!

Topic du Jour

An ICQ conversation I had with a friend this morning inspired me to write something. But things, and I, tend to get stuck often when it's as muggy as it is in Hong Kong these days. So I settled for the better solution. It all started when my friend sent me a message in which she told me that 1, she had just met her boyfriend's parents and it went well; and 2, a friend of hers and the fiance had just taken wedding photos.

And so... the topic du jour - Marriage.

Note: Names of people and parts of the dialogue have been altered to protect the identity of those mentioned. Deliberately messy names are used instead in attempt to keep this rather lengthy piece entertaining.

ME: It's funny how you included the two things in one message... when I read it I got the sense that you're going to marry this guy soon...

HER: That's freaky! Scarlet and her soon-to-be-married idea are freaking me out...Antoinetta and I were talking about it today ... and we see all these potential problems in Scarlet's "coming soon" life and I got a little worried for her.

ME: I guess all "problems" seem to go away miraculously when two people decide they want to get married.... I've been hearing about numerous weddings this year... most of them are Sophia's friends.

HER: Well ... I can understand why you say that ... but Scarlet and her fiance are in a slightly different situation.

ME: How so?

HER: Well, her fiance, Stuart, is divorced with a 6 yr old daughter, custody on the mom's side ... Scarlet and Stuart met last September, it was a set up by friends. Scarlet first heard about Stuart and wasn't tempted... but finally she gave in. They met... he fell in love with her... and poof... all of a sudden... he proposed to her in December! 3 months into their relationship! Or maybe 2...

ME: Well, does she love him?

HER:Scarlet is a fun gal, she's also a busy gal. We used to hang out after work and go have fun. She loves to shop too... shopaholic... to get rid of the stress from work. Now Stuart is in her life, he doesn't let her shop. He thinks it's a waste of money, and of course the hang out stuff will either not happen or he will tag along.

ME: Does Scarlet not see that as a problem?

HER: I think she kinda knows but she's not thinking it's a problem. She's very considerate and does what he wants. Antoinetta and I both think that this relationship only works cause Scarlet is willing to sacrifice for Stuart. But the relationship is also very dull. We're worried that eventually she'll get tired of it.

ME: Well.... I think it's all right as long as she feels comfortable with the whole relationship... at least for now, and even if it's only for now. You know... as her friends, you and Antoinetta would have your opinions whether or not the guy's right for her... but then I really believe that friends should avoid commenting on friends' relationships. Besides, it's impossible for outsiders to know everything involved. So all you can do is wish her the best.

HER: I'm not gonna say anything. Ever since he's with her I've rarely talked to Scarlet. He's always around; it's hard to talk about him when he's there. That's another thing, Stuart thinks that once they're together, they should be together... literally... no more privacy... he goes everywhere she goes. He has to know everything.
And their wedding ...well ... back then Scarlet and I talked about our dream weddings way before Stuart existed ... I know Scarlet likes small simple weddings but with a bit of class ... but Stuart is a little "let's not waste money type" (details omitted) It's the most important day of her life and it's nothing BUT class as far as I've heard ...

ME: I hear you... but maybe she's happy to make that "sacrifice". Do you guys think she's not happy?

HER: I really don't know if she's happy... there were times that I see sparks in her eyes... but that was when they first started dating... I always thought brides to be will have sparks... but so far I don't see any... Antoinetta said she doesn't really think she ever had the "in love glow" on her face...

ME: The way I see it is.... as long as Scarlet doesn't seem to be suffering from any of this; you guys shouldn't and can't worry too much.
Another thing.... you and I might still have that "dream" about weddings and marriages b/c we're young... but Scarlet is 30 something, and women that age can easily change their views about landing a marriage, any marriage.

HER: True ... I think she was in the freaked out phase of "will I ever get married" when I first met Scarlet.
I'm not gonna say anything cause she probably doesn't think it's a problem ... but just the thoughts made me scared ... how do you know when you're really in love with someone and how do you know if he's the one you should marry? I'm not saying I'm gonna get married anytime soon.

ME: You know.... I really have a hard time believing in marriages nowadays... in my opinion a marriage is like promising "we'll never break up", but making the promise doesn't mean you won't fall in love with another person... love is from the heart and sometimes, I think, is not something you can control. I mean, when you're married, you'll make it your responsibility not to do anything about it even if you find you fall in love with another person... or even if you find you don't love your husband/wife anymore. A marriage doesn't guarantee that two people stay in love forever.
That's what I'm saying.
So maybe there isn't really one you should marry... maybe you "should" just marry whoever feels right at the moment. Because nobody knows what happens tomorrow, or the day after.

HER: I guess ... but then u make it all sound like just go with the flow.

ME: I think it is go with the flow. Even if you say you found THE ONE... how do you know if the timing is right? How do you know you guys bought the perfect apartment? How do you know you'll have the "right" children? It IS all just going with the flow.
Supposedly, a marriage tells people that the two people will be "going with the flow" together, they're going to share all joys and sorrows till death do them part blah blah blah....
I honestly believe marriage is just a ceremony. Maybe at first the two people will feel obligated to stay happy and make everything work... but 10 yrs, 20 yrs, 30 yrs into the relationship as husband and wife, things can still change.... and when things change then, they might not carry the same "meaning of a marriage" idea in their heads as they did when they first tied the knot.

HER: But there must be some amazing happily ever after married couples out there ... I mean ... there must be some good in marriage ... why else would people get married?!

ME: Of course there is.... but marriage is a product that doesn't carry with it any warrantee, the price of maintenance would be great, and if it ever breaks down the price would be even greater. People get married because it's a tradition. People get married b/c their families/friends/business associates expect them to.

HER: Please tell me that that's not always true ... marriage is supposed to be between 2 people... not a whole bunch of people! Or is it?! Is marriage uniting 2 hearts or 2 families?!

ME: I honestly feel that weddings are like putting on shows... so that the moms and dads can feel they maintained or even upgraded their image as successful parents raising a daughter good enough to marry a rocket scientist or a son good enough to marry a swimsuit model, that their friends can have an excuse to get drunk, and that the bride/groom can appear as ones who can commit in front of his boss/coworkers/business associates.

HER: But marriage should be more than just that.... more than just satisfying the couple's families/friends/coworkers. I mean, a marriage does make people look different... but it'd be sad, and it's true ... some people get married just to make themselves look good.

ME: If and when I really love a man... I would like it if he wants to marry me, yes... because to me that means he wants to be with me the rest of his life...at that point in time. People change, things change, no matter how I love a man or how he loves me.... I just don't think it's possible to really swear that I won't come to like another man, or discover that I'm really a lesbian, or simply lose feelings for him.
A LIFETIME is a long time.