1. You're in the car and traffic starts to get really slow due to the beeline of trucks carrying tons of sugarcane running at an illegally low speed of 30 kph in MacArthur Highway. This happens around November to March. Depending on how prayerful you are, traffic speed starts to drop when you're in the northern end of Capas, and persists to somewhere in Tarlac City depending on whether or not you were a good boy/or girl when you were little.
2. You walk downtown and people rudely stare at you if you're wearing one of or combination of the following:
a. tube top, or blouse with low/plunging neckline.
b. "pepe" shorts.
c. loud hair color/big, unruly hair do.
d. graphic tattoo spread to more than 20% of your skin.
e. you're ridiculously good looking (if you fall under this category, don't be surprised if someone asks for your autograph or requests to have a photo taken beside you).
3. You and your friends want to have a "night-out" and realize there's not too many to choose from.
4. You see a Yellow Cab restaurant without a single customer.
5. You enter into a "mall" and in 10 minutes, you've seen every store.
6. You can't find a Kenny Roger's, Burger King, Wendy's, or Quickly.
7. You dine in a Razon's and the food actually ROCKS (compared to the franchise stores in Metro Manila).
8. You drive northward from Manila, to Pampanga, then after a few minutes
a. the atmosphere is not that polluted.
b. at night time, you look up to the sky and you can actually see stars. A lot of stars.
c. at around 9 o'clock in the evening, about 80% of the population is sound asleep.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
Protect your son: you're doing it wrong
Unless you're autistic or live somewhere in the thick forests of Basilan, I bet almost everyone has already seen that shocking video involving a doctor and three different girls. I do not intend to go into the details, I'm sure you guys know more than I do. But here's what I just can't reconcile with my own reasoning: what on earth was Dr. Kho's mom thinking when she gave that interview in TV patrol last night (May 25, 2009)? I was starting to get tired of the issue, but then she started a whole new part for it, and this juicy part would take gargantuan effort for me to ignore it. It's just too funny and disturbing at the same time.
As I watched her on TV, with the emotional effect of closing her eyes while speaking, I deem that she did not quite think over what specific message she wanted to deliver to the public. She kept injecting how Lolit Solis was so evil; and in her evilness, Ms. Solis gave Katrina Halili a script what to say whenever she had an interview. And she even mentioned something about Dr. Kho being under the influence of drugs as he took the video, drugs that were supplied by Ms. Halili herself.
I am not condoning Dr. Kho's actions, the things he did were downright wrong. He even owed up to his mistakes, and apologized publicly for his irrational decisions. Knowing that he already admitted whatever crime was reflected by the sex videos, why in Heaven's name would his mom still throw out such accusations to Ms. Halili and Solis? In my humble opinion, the right thing to do would have been to keep her message simple. "My son is guilty, but his guilt does not define his whole character. He made a mistake and he owed up to it like a man should. Things are really difficult for my son right now, and for me as well. As a mother who feels the pain that her son feels, I beg of you, dear viewers...please do not make our situation harder as it already is." That would have sounded nice, wouldn't it?
But no, she read a verse from the Bible (I read a verse from Psalms...), exposed a Crucifix necklace for the camera ("Ms. Lolit Solis...DASALAN MO TO!), and kept saying "Ayoko na sanang magsalita" but she talked incessantly, eyes closed, for a good 10 to 15 minutes (that's precious airtime thrown away). She wore a yellow sleeveless turtle neck top and loaded her face with a hell lot of makeup (especially her brows - disturbing). How's that for tactic.
As I watched her on TV, with the emotional effect of closing her eyes while speaking, I deem that she did not quite think over what specific message she wanted to deliver to the public. She kept injecting how Lolit Solis was so evil; and in her evilness, Ms. Solis gave Katrina Halili a script what to say whenever she had an interview. And she even mentioned something about Dr. Kho being under the influence of drugs as he took the video, drugs that were supplied by Ms. Halili herself.
I am not condoning Dr. Kho's actions, the things he did were downright wrong. He even owed up to his mistakes, and apologized publicly for his irrational decisions. Knowing that he already admitted whatever crime was reflected by the sex videos, why in Heaven's name would his mom still throw out such accusations to Ms. Halili and Solis? In my humble opinion, the right thing to do would have been to keep her message simple. "My son is guilty, but his guilt does not define his whole character. He made a mistake and he owed up to it like a man should. Things are really difficult for my son right now, and for me as well. As a mother who feels the pain that her son feels, I beg of you, dear viewers...please do not make our situation harder as it already is." That would have sounded nice, wouldn't it?
But no, she read a verse from the Bible (I read a verse from Psalms...), exposed a Crucifix necklace for the camera ("Ms. Lolit Solis...DASALAN MO TO!), and kept saying "Ayoko na sanang magsalita" but she talked incessantly, eyes closed, for a good 10 to 15 minutes (that's precious airtime thrown away). She wore a yellow sleeveless turtle neck top and loaded her face with a hell lot of makeup (especially her brows - disturbing). How's that for tactic.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Prettification
"Vanity, definitely my favorite sin."
--John Milton, The Devil's Advocate (1997)
I don't deny it, I'm an avid fan of a local television series, "I Love Betty La Fea." The story's pretty much predictable (as how Filipinos love to have their storylines, be it on TV or movies), but the antics, especially that of Vhong Navarro's character, never fail to amuse me.
One thing is off-key, though. The Colombian soap from which the local version was derived successfully transformed stunning Ana Maria Orozco to a less than plain-Jane. On the other hand, the Philippine version perhaps ran out of creative ideas to make Bea Alonzo as ugly as required for the La Fea role. I mean despite the wig, abundant brow hair, giant spectacles and the braces, Bea still looked like...Bea. She's still pretty. At least they could have casted someone whose skin is not as pink and porcelain-like. If a Pinoy series can't cast an "uglier" gal for an ugly role, what more with the other TV programs? Some might even think, 'If Bea Alonzo looks ugly in Betty La Fea, then how do I look like?'
Whitening products, slimming procedures, slimming products, these things are everywhere. Endorsers claim that making yourself look 'good' has evolved from luxury to necessity. If you're not pretty/dead skinny, you're sooooo not good enough.
Since anyone can remember, much has been written about how too much emphasis is given to aesthetic beauty, especially in the local media and showbiz industry. I thought that by this time, it would have sunken into more people that there's more to life than aggravating over your skin color or your belly fat. (Applause to Dove's endorsements, by the way)
True beauty is natural beauty. If you're born with curly hair, it's because curly hair looks good on you. Since the time that hair rebonding became much more affordable, every girl I see has rebonded hair, and most of them don't have very positive reaction to the chemical. A lot of girls end up having hair that looks like a broom. It would've looked better if they simply sported their natural look. Just because everybody gets hair rebonding (even guys), it doesn't mean that your hair doesn't look pretty as it is. I don't get why some girls don't get this.
I can go on and on about this topic, it's not gonna end. But here's some thoughts for pondering.
From a text message, a deep realization was spread about how looking beautiful can be an unfair ticket to stardom. This text message questions why Pinoy Big Brother always chooses participants who look 'artistahin', while the advertisement way back before the show started stated that this reality TV series is about the ordinary Filipino. If they lived up the ad, they should've chosen the ordinary: a jueteng bookkeeper, a rugby boy, a prostitute, a cigarette vendor/takatak boy, etc. You know what I mean.
If you look into magazine stands, what kind of materials is usually seen? I'm estimating 90% of printed material in magazines is about fashion and beauty products. But can you spot an education magazine, one that gives hardcore study tips and time-management advice? No. That's why kids these days, especially girls, are more concerned about how orange is the new pink or who's Zac Efron's current girlfriend than how to ace their next written exam.
--John Milton, The Devil's Advocate (1997)
I don't deny it, I'm an avid fan of a local television series, "I Love Betty La Fea." The story's pretty much predictable (as how Filipinos love to have their storylines, be it on TV or movies), but the antics, especially that of Vhong Navarro's character, never fail to amuse me.
One thing is off-key, though. The Colombian soap from which the local version was derived successfully transformed stunning Ana Maria Orozco to a less than plain-Jane. On the other hand, the Philippine version perhaps ran out of creative ideas to make Bea Alonzo as ugly as required for the La Fea role. I mean despite the wig, abundant brow hair, giant spectacles and the braces, Bea still looked like...Bea. She's still pretty. At least they could have casted someone whose skin is not as pink and porcelain-like. If a Pinoy series can't cast an "uglier" gal for an ugly role, what more with the other TV programs? Some might even think, 'If Bea Alonzo looks ugly in Betty La Fea, then how do I look like?'
Whitening products, slimming procedures, slimming products, these things are everywhere. Endorsers claim that making yourself look 'good' has evolved from luxury to necessity. If you're not pretty/dead skinny, you're sooooo not good enough.
Since anyone can remember, much has been written about how too much emphasis is given to aesthetic beauty, especially in the local media and showbiz industry. I thought that by this time, it would have sunken into more people that there's more to life than aggravating over your skin color or your belly fat. (Applause to Dove's endorsements, by the way)
True beauty is natural beauty. If you're born with curly hair, it's because curly hair looks good on you. Since the time that hair rebonding became much more affordable, every girl I see has rebonded hair, and most of them don't have very positive reaction to the chemical. A lot of girls end up having hair that looks like a broom. It would've looked better if they simply sported their natural look. Just because everybody gets hair rebonding (even guys), it doesn't mean that your hair doesn't look pretty as it is. I don't get why some girls don't get this.
I can go on and on about this topic, it's not gonna end. But here's some thoughts for pondering.
From a text message, a deep realization was spread about how looking beautiful can be an unfair ticket to stardom. This text message questions why Pinoy Big Brother always chooses participants who look 'artistahin', while the advertisement way back before the show started stated that this reality TV series is about the ordinary Filipino. If they lived up the ad, they should've chosen the ordinary: a jueteng bookkeeper, a rugby boy, a prostitute, a cigarette vendor/takatak boy, etc. You know what I mean.
If you look into magazine stands, what kind of materials is usually seen? I'm estimating 90% of printed material in magazines is about fashion and beauty products. But can you spot an education magazine, one that gives hardcore study tips and time-management advice? No. That's why kids these days, especially girls, are more concerned about how orange is the new pink or who's Zac Efron's current girlfriend than how to ace their next written exam.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Measure of True Music Craftsmanship: Make Your Own Words
Notice how old songs are incessantly given a "face-lift" the past decade by local artists? During the first few years of this trend, it was okay. It was nice to bring old songs back once in a while - nostalgia has its ways of hitting the right spots to make you feel good.
But then it came to a point when one particular song was remade by at least three artists, all at the same time. Then some bands/artists started releasing albums of purely revival songs. Up until now, people behind these recordings still come up with a another song to remake/remix. Some of these revivals sound okay, but most of the time....it's murder. I wish they just leave original songs alone, they sound perfect already.
I commend singers or groups who write their own lyrics. Anyone can carry a tune, sing someone else's song on stage or in videoke, but only a select few can compose words that make sense and turn it to a song. Song lyrics are much like poetry, the deeper the lines, all the better. So I'm not just talking about original lyrics that go like "Come on baby, your smile makes me happy. I'm sad when you're gone" and all that crap. Take Urbandub's songs for example, or Bamboo's. It takes some calories to decipher their words. Now these people are real musicians. They write music, play instruments, and give mind-blowing performances. They're the real thing. To the rest of the guys who borrow other people's lyrics...good luck.
But then it came to a point when one particular song was remade by at least three artists, all at the same time. Then some bands/artists started releasing albums of purely revival songs. Up until now, people behind these recordings still come up with a another song to remake/remix. Some of these revivals sound okay, but most of the time....it's murder. I wish they just leave original songs alone, they sound perfect already.
I commend singers or groups who write their own lyrics. Anyone can carry a tune, sing someone else's song on stage or in videoke, but only a select few can compose words that make sense and turn it to a song. Song lyrics are much like poetry, the deeper the lines, all the better. So I'm not just talking about original lyrics that go like "Come on baby, your smile makes me happy. I'm sad when you're gone" and all that crap. Take Urbandub's songs for example, or Bamboo's. It takes some calories to decipher their words. Now these people are real musicians. They write music, play instruments, and give mind-blowing performances. They're the real thing. To the rest of the guys who borrow other people's lyrics...good luck.
A Measure of True Music Craftsmanship: Hit the Keys
"No, I don't talk too much! I am brief! Blunt! To-the-point! I do not beat around the bush!"
--- Mojo Jojo, Powerpuff Girls
[The quote has nothing to do with this entry. I simply remembered it and couldn't help myself from typing it haha]
A lot of American Idol fans consider Simon Cowell their least favorite judge, and they have their own reasons for that: some say he's grumpy, rude, and way too difficult to please. A contestant might have given a brilliant performance for majority of the viewers, but not for Mr. Cowell, who thinks that a "good" singer is not enough to make the cut. One has to be spectacular, at the very least.
I am not sure if it's a good thing, but I somewhat share a characteristic with Mr. Cowell, but not his notorious way of giving out criticisms. Like him, my appreciation of a singer or a band takes more than just the ability to reach high notes and strum the strings. A matinee celebrity singing on TV may sound like an angel for the ordinary listener, but I cringe on every off-key note that comes out. It's a curse, really.
You see, my brain's tone recognition is a little too sensitive (is there some sort of scientific term for that?). My own singing voice is not performance-material, but I can surely tell if there is even the slightest diversion from the right note, be it a voice or an instrument. There are times when I'm starting to enjoy a live acoustic performance, when suddenly the vocalist fails to hit the note, and then I look at my mom for confirmation (I got the "sensitive ears" from her side of the family*), and yes, wala s'ya sa tono. Then I ask a friend or whoever's with me if they noticed, they say they can't tell the difference.
Let's take the local scene for example. Music professionals are abound in the local industry, but of course they can't control every performance that takes place. In this country, I believe, if you have "the face" then you can sing, and other factors are negligible. By other factors, I mean lack of tune, lack of beat, and lack of voice quality. But then again, the crowd's demand outweighs music quality by a tonne. Alas for me, all I can do is shake my head in dismay and discontent.
Sometimes I wish I never had the means to tell whether or not a note is off-key. That way, I can enjoy music in an uninterrupted, peacefuly way.
[*I believe my mom's family has some sort of "musician's blood," if I may call it that, running through the members. My grandfather plays the harmonica and accordion. My brother is a guitar pro, and he taught himself how to play drums. I can decently handle a guitar and the keyboard. One of my uncles knows how to play the piano by ear. Decades ago, people were surprised to know that he knew how to play it the first time he saw one. They were a very poor family, and only saw musical instruments in pictures. And when he plays, people who hear his music would say that it sounds exactly like the song does in the record.]
--- Mojo Jojo, Powerpuff Girls
[The quote has nothing to do with this entry. I simply remembered it and couldn't help myself from typing it haha]
A lot of American Idol fans consider Simon Cowell their least favorite judge, and they have their own reasons for that: some say he's grumpy, rude, and way too difficult to please. A contestant might have given a brilliant performance for majority of the viewers, but not for Mr. Cowell, who thinks that a "good" singer is not enough to make the cut. One has to be spectacular, at the very least.
I am not sure if it's a good thing, but I somewhat share a characteristic with Mr. Cowell, but not his notorious way of giving out criticisms. Like him, my appreciation of a singer or a band takes more than just the ability to reach high notes and strum the strings. A matinee celebrity singing on TV may sound like an angel for the ordinary listener, but I cringe on every off-key note that comes out. It's a curse, really.
You see, my brain's tone recognition is a little too sensitive (is there some sort of scientific term for that?). My own singing voice is not performance-material, but I can surely tell if there is even the slightest diversion from the right note, be it a voice or an instrument. There are times when I'm starting to enjoy a live acoustic performance, when suddenly the vocalist fails to hit the note, and then I look at my mom for confirmation (I got the "sensitive ears" from her side of the family*), and yes, wala s'ya sa tono. Then I ask a friend or whoever's with me if they noticed, they say they can't tell the difference.
Let's take the local scene for example. Music professionals are abound in the local industry, but of course they can't control every performance that takes place. In this country, I believe, if you have "the face" then you can sing, and other factors are negligible. By other factors, I mean lack of tune, lack of beat, and lack of voice quality. But then again, the crowd's demand outweighs music quality by a tonne. Alas for me, all I can do is shake my head in dismay and discontent.
Sometimes I wish I never had the means to tell whether or not a note is off-key. That way, I can enjoy music in an uninterrupted, peacefuly way.
[*I believe my mom's family has some sort of "musician's blood," if I may call it that, running through the members. My grandfather plays the harmonica and accordion. My brother is a guitar pro, and he taught himself how to play drums. I can decently handle a guitar and the keyboard. One of my uncles knows how to play the piano by ear. Decades ago, people were surprised to know that he knew how to play it the first time he saw one. They were a very poor family, and only saw musical instruments in pictures. And when he plays, people who hear his music would say that it sounds exactly like the song does in the record.]
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Kids These Days, with Their Laptops and 5.0 Grades
(Note: Thou shalt not mention names, for these names will come after thee carrying daggers to stab thy arse, no matter what depth the truth thy writings bear. But ere they forget, they shalt prove first that I bear false accusations. Peace to ye all and to all mankind.)
I graduated from college March 2006, and it can be said that's not too long ago. However, in three years, so much evolution has occurred. By evolution, I mean that of students - their study habits, principles and disposition, lifestyle, and study gadgets.
After graduation, I taught for one year in a local college (sans the masters degree - that's the magic of connections haha just kidding). Being allowed to wear whatever I wanted (as long as it's politely presentable), I had the opportunity to sit amongst students in the school cafeteria, and just "look around."
One big thing that simply failed to go unnoticed: kids these days have laptops that they bring around their [wi-fi ready] school. How much does an average laptop cost these days? If I'm not mistaken, it almost costs as much as a whole semester's enrollment fee. That's around Php 40K-50K. Bringing to mind the proportion of students that pass the board exam [please don't ask me what course they're in, but it's definitely not computer-related], it's not exactly a rate to brag about.
Back during the times when I was studying for an achievement test, I spent my free time in the school library. And guess what: except for the librarian and myself, nobody else was there. Nada. So much for the academic pressure that only college life can bring. Apparently, it's not pressuring enough for the students.
I think what I'm trying to draw here is that students nowadays afford to be carefree, and tote their expensive laptops around while getting grades that are way below the passing rate. I'm not saying that it's wrong for them to own an HP, Dell, or whatever, it's just that... letting everyone see you have a laptop plus failing grades - not a very cool sight. (Parang ganito: may laptop ka na nga to make research and other projects easier, bagsak ka paren)
It's not just the laptop. Here's more.
One of my students, from day one, gave me the impression that she doesn't care enough to bring some effort into her studies. This impression was further emphasized when I gave them a reporting activity (the only one I gave them for the whole semester - all the rest, I gave hand-outs of summarized and outlined lessons). I gave her and the rest of the class two full weeks to prepare. All her classmates gave me decent reports, complete with the written output. When it was her turn, all she did was read out her topic aloud directly from the book. No apologies, no nothing.
If I were in her position, I wouldn't even have to SHOW MY FACE to my lecturer, coming to class inexcusably unprepared.
Another interesting incident here. I was invited to be a part of a panel for a thesis title defense. It seemed that the group that made the presentation (if it really was a presentation, which I doubt) never truly understood the weight of what they were doing. It was a thesis title defense: at least they should have worn formal attire, or not let us notice that they had no idea what to do with their title. Allow me to enumerate the rest of their antics, because I fear that this entry would get painfully lengthy if I don't:
I graduated from college March 2006, and it can be said that's not too long ago. However, in three years, so much evolution has occurred. By evolution, I mean that of students - their study habits, principles and disposition, lifestyle, and study gadgets.
After graduation, I taught for one year in a local college (sans the masters degree - that's the magic of connections haha just kidding). Being allowed to wear whatever I wanted (as long as it's politely presentable), I had the opportunity to sit amongst students in the school cafeteria, and just "look around."
One big thing that simply failed to go unnoticed: kids these days have laptops that they bring around their [wi-fi ready] school. How much does an average laptop cost these days? If I'm not mistaken, it almost costs as much as a whole semester's enrollment fee. That's around Php 40K-50K. Bringing to mind the proportion of students that pass the board exam [please don't ask me what course they're in, but it's definitely not computer-related], it's not exactly a rate to brag about.
Back during the times when I was studying for an achievement test, I spent my free time in the school library. And guess what: except for the librarian and myself, nobody else was there. Nada. So much for the academic pressure that only college life can bring. Apparently, it's not pressuring enough for the students.
I think what I'm trying to draw here is that students nowadays afford to be carefree, and tote their expensive laptops around while getting grades that are way below the passing rate. I'm not saying that it's wrong for them to own an HP, Dell, or whatever, it's just that... letting everyone see you have a laptop plus failing grades - not a very cool sight. (Parang ganito: may laptop ka na nga to make research and other projects easier, bagsak ka paren)
It's not just the laptop. Here's more.
One of my students, from day one, gave me the impression that she doesn't care enough to bring some effort into her studies. This impression was further emphasized when I gave them a reporting activity (the only one I gave them for the whole semester - all the rest, I gave hand-outs of summarized and outlined lessons). I gave her and the rest of the class two full weeks to prepare. All her classmates gave me decent reports, complete with the written output. When it was her turn, all she did was read out her topic aloud directly from the book. No apologies, no nothing.
If I were in her position, I wouldn't even have to SHOW MY FACE to my lecturer, coming to class inexcusably unprepared.
Another interesting incident here. I was invited to be a part of a panel for a thesis title defense. It seemed that the group that made the presentation (if it really was a presentation, which I doubt) never truly understood the weight of what they were doing. It was a thesis title defense: at least they should have worn formal attire, or not let us notice that they had no idea what to do with their title. Allow me to enumerate the rest of their antics, because I fear that this entry would get painfully lengthy if I don't:
- As was mentioned, they wore casual clothes.
- The presentation was due 10AM. By 10:40 AM, one member was still in the comfort of her home. Their level coordinator sent her an SMS, enlightening her a bit about the beauty of their situation. She texted back, "Ma'am asa bahay pa po ako, hindi nyo naman ako tinext agad." (huwatdah3ll??!!!!1!!)
- One guy member kept saying, "Ma'am hindi ko nga alam kung bakit ganito to e, hindi ko maintindihan....." Owkeeeeyyyiii...you're supposed to DEFEND this title, remember?
- As we pointed out some corrections on their thesis title and first three chapters, NOBODY WAS WRITING DOWN ANYTHING, until we told them to do so. I mean, we're giving out so much back then, shouldn't they at least have the initiative to write down the things we were saying?
- They kept complaining that the topic they have was too difficult to tackle. Mind you, their research was simple descriptive type. It wasn't even comparative. It wasn't even experimental.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Rich Granny, Poor Granny
It's amazing how life lays out realities and lessons in a crude, brutally simple way. These lessons you can never learn in any academe; they just unfold before your eyes slowly enough to be understood and remembered.
I never experienced how it was to grow and live with a grandfather. It's sad, but I'm lucky enough to have known and lived with both my grandmothers from the maternal and paternal side of the family. Maybe fate has something to do with it, but they are exact opposites in every sense. One can easily appreciate their stark differences, and can decide whether or not a granny is/was better than the other.
From my birth until age six, my family lived with my paternal grandmother, "Wos" (all of us grandchildren call her that). I have clear recollections how she was then: hardworking, poised, frugal, and quite strong of personality. She single-handedly put up and managed a drugstore in the fifties, and it has grown into several branches. She was always preoccupied, always on-the-go, without sacrificing her health and social life at the same time. I know that in her heart, there exists kindness towards her grandchildren. Sadly, I can barely enumerate times when I can say that for me, "she's special, and I am special to her, because I am her granddaughter."
Perhaps she wasn't aware how grandmothers usually find ways to make her grandchildren feel truly loved. Perhaps, for her, she already gave all-out love to her grandchildren. I'll never know by this time, due to her Alzheimer's disease.
But Apu Taba, my maternal grandmother - she's different. From back in the 50s, she raised 11 children while her husband tried to earn some money by being one of the more well-known, yet simple, barbers in town. Anyway, Apu Taba became a part of our home around September 2006. In the short time that I spent with her (she passed away March 2008), I witnessed how one person can have so much love for every person in her family - from her children to her grand children, to her great grand children.
She was the first and last person to sing me a whole "Happy Birthday" song, one-on-one.
She was the only person who sang me a song, "How are you my partner, how are you today?", complete with her body swaying side by side.
She was the first person who greeted me "Good morning pretty red rose!" every morning.
She was the first person who let me know how it feels to lose a person I loved.
I believe that both my grandmothers love(d) me, but only one of them truly taught me how to be cheerful despite the difficult times, loving, and selfless.
(In memory of Flora Paras Flores, April 8, 1923 - March 22, 2008)
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