Aside from us Porto Diao-ers, there were many new faces last night. From what I remember, Lorena from Lorenadas.com was there and, along with Luis, they gave away copies of the printed version of their health site SaludPanama.com. It’s an awesomely nifty magazine, packed to the gills with articles of interest. Hell, I never thought I’d go to a bar and score a list of doctors’ contacts, let alone a whole health magazine. My favorite Stranger With Candy was there with the lady friend, as was Keny, who was looking foxy. Itzel was there as well and I didn’t know it was her, but Margot from Guayabera Digital was there and I was impressed by her because in a little over 5 seconds she did something that takes the world’s greatest minds months of preparation on the tallest mountain in the Himalayas to accomplish: she left me without a comeback. I always, always have some ridiculous comeback to whatever is thrown at me… it’s part of my smartass persona inventory. Either way, I was left with my words in my mouth as I had nothing, nothing at all. I am so impressed by it, in fact, that I want to keep that moment for myself. No, I’m not sharing it with you. Stop asking.

Cads was also there! I finally got to meet the guy; he looks like the type I’d have a beer with. There were several others there but I never got around to meeting them! It’s a shame too, because they all seemed like a nice bunch even if they would be understandably abrasive of my outlandish looks and behavior. By the way, if you were there and I didn’t get the chance to meet or talk to you then please leave your comment and site link in the comments section! Flip gave out some stoner shirts and a Beavis & Butthead universal remote I really wanted but Kuma ended up with it so I’m alright with it, and I think that overall the turnout was great, just as good as the first Beer & Blogs back in December. Karla was a late entry as well, but no one was prepare for he who would walk down that hallway to our table while I was talking about men and childbirth (don’t ask). The one, the only…

Marco Romero.

You have no idea how huge this is. I’ve been trying to convince this guy to come out to these events for months! For him to show up like that is a giant leap for mankind. I was really glad of having him there, considering I hadn’t seen the guy for weeks and I’m a pussy and I missed him. As is usual, we got kicked out of the bar because we wouldn’t let them close down the place but I was caught up in the topic of how I have the tendency of unconsciously stirring the shit so the bar tab ran a little long. I really would’ve wished I had walked out of the tattoo parlor earlier… I probably missed a lot of people that weren’t there by the time I arrived. Ugh. I’ll definitely make it on time when part three comes around, for sure.

Events like the Beers & Blogs, places where communities can congregate and get to know each other, is something I feel is very important. Specially in our society, where we’re so scared to reach out and meet our fellow stranger that we end up in a bubble composed of our own circle of friends without giving yourself the opportunity to meet others with beliefs and values similar or different to ours. I might like Coheed and Cambria while you might like Buju Banton, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. The initiative is not only brilliant but also necessary; on both occasions of the Beer & Blogs it has happened to me that I’ve met people by their names and it’s not until afterwards that I realize they’re behind sites I frequently visit and link to. It’s the oddest thing, how I am so in tune with other bloggers’ minds but in some cases I don’t even know their names. It goes to show how much of a double-edged sword the internet is, and by proxy, the blogosphere. I encourage you, esteemed reader, to take part in events like these if you have a blog and it’s based off Panama. Hell, by simply putting a button on your site promoting something like this you’ll be doing the Panamanian society (both online and off) a huge favor, an injection of adrenaline that’ll make it get off its ass and do something for itself.

Enough of my scolding. This is a cause for celebration! There are pictures up over at the Beers & Blogs… umm, blog… Can’t wait for the reactions around the Panamanian blogosphere. I’ll take the liberty of thanking all of those who went for going, congratulate the fine folks at BlogsPanama.com for the lovely evening and I look forward to seeing you all on the third edition of Beers & Blogs! When will that be? Only the Mopx knows.

DEFTONES: In case you didn’t know, Butterfest.net launched its 2007 concert season by doing a tribute gig to the Deftones, with the opening acts to make way for the tribute band, named “La Yegua Blanca” which would translate to “The White (female) Horse.” Porto Diao was sponsoring the gig as is now customary so several members were there (Kuma, Yamile, Jenny and myself, as well as the aforementioned Butter and BFTV crew) so show their support and trip out on their 90’s adolescence nostalgia. Out of the opening acts, Calavera sounds an awful lot like Rage Against the Machine so you know that’s a good thing. It was the first time I had heard of either them or their music, so it was a great way to start the evening. Next up was DKDE Flesh, which was also quite good. These guys I have heard before God knows where but I did recognize their sound, one of which I can’t really pinpoint but it was quite enjoyable. Next up was Sk, and I can see why the first thing I thought when I saw them up on stage was that they looked and sounded just like The Donnas; this 3-out-of-4-are-girls band might give off the Donnas vibe at first but if you sit and listen to them a little you’ll notice a distinct sound from what you’re used to. After these 3 acts (each one played around 4 songs or so, with 15 minute intervals between them. The organization unfolded with the precision of a Swiss watch) it was time for the Horsey to take the stage… and quite frankly, they burned the roof off.

Deftones and I go way back. Whenever I want to be angry in order to write angrily I put them on my playlist and it works like a charm every time. It’s that vibe of inconformity and insane power chords along with the rhythm changes comparable to the mood swings of an epileptic crack addict that really resonate with me, so much so that one of my favorite songs of all time comes from them. So, when they played “Digital Bath” I was up on the clouds. Everyone was on point and aside from some false starts by way of a nervous guitarist, the band genuinely seemed to be having as much fun as the crowd that formed in front of the stage to make way for the mosh pit. They played all of the greatest hits, around 14 songs one right after the other with crazy fury. It was great. It was glorious, even.

The other big deal Saturday night was the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. The event is not as much about the holiday but as an excuse to drink ridiculous amounts of alcohol. Jenny and Lucho went, and Lucho came to the gig rather tipsy. Beads around his neck and a Lucky Charms hat made out of plastic on his head tilted to the side like the Planter’s aristocrat nut, the following conversation took place by the bar, where I was stationed with my posse:

Lucho (having difficulty focusing): Robert, I am somewhat hammered. And your shirt says “COCK” in the front.

Rob: You look pretty hammered, yes. And yes it does. It’s one of my favorite shirts.

Lucho: I know what you’re thinking.

Rob: what am I thinking?

Lucho: You want to get me drunk.

Rob: Do you want me to get you drunk?

Lucho: I want to get drunk!

Rob (taking it as a dare, after a long pause taken to assess the guy’s current un-sober state): You wanna get drunk? Hell, I’ll get you drunk.

Lucho (concerned): What are you doing?

Rob (after talking to the guy at the bar): You’re having a tequila shot.

Lucho: WHAT?!

Rob: You’re having a tequila shot!

Lucho (with the despair of a thousand virgins): No! No! Tequila and I don’t get along! No Rob, I’m not having a tequila shot!

Rob: Come here. You’re having the shot! Don’t be a pussy!!!

Lucho: But I am a pussy!

Rob: take the shot!!!

Kuma (while Lucho tries (and fails) to pour salt on his hand): So he’s a pussy?

Rob: I guess so. Considering I’m a cock and getting him drunk, I suppose that this means I’m figuratively trying to fuck him.

3 tequila shots with beer chasers and a steady flow of even more brew later, Lucho turned into a respectable drunk guy, slurring and all. He was chasing tail like he didn’t give a damn… I was so proud. The gig ended at around 1:30AM or so, like clockwork and even somewhat earlier than expected. This concert will be the first of many, so log on to Butterfest.net or the Porto Diao blog for updates and upcoming dates. The crew over at Net Distortion covered the event; both they and Butter have nifty pictures to boot so be sure to check it out!

ADS: If you live here in the city then you must have seen the ads that are on most billboards across the capital: Blank Magazine, some jet-set design and entertainment magazine thing that you can acquire for free in book stores and other places I don’t really know but I’m sure I frequent, started this surely-controversial ad campaign promoting their magazine. I saw some of the ads simply driving around and they’re definitely attention-grabbers, considering we live in a socially-retarded and highly catholic/Christian country… as you can see, they feature stereotypes hung on the cross. The campaign, entitled “Take A Walk On The BLANK Side,” is looking to break away from stereotypes by promoting individualism no matter what you do with your life. Now, I was gonna go with a whole different approach to these ads but then this morning I read a very assertive commentary on the by way of Lenin’s blog that shifted my focus. Lenin’s comments came from a series of articles one of the newspapers with the highest circulation on a national scale published, claiming that in order for someone to find happiness, love and all that jazz he or she should stick to finding someone with the same social (and, by proxy, economic) status. The theory says that the closer the couple’s individual social status is, then the happier they’ll be. Fuck, it’s this type of retarded train of thought that makes me want to punch babies. This sort of ill-informed, atrocious, fucking rude and downright incorrect notion is the sort of bullshit reaction you’d expect from a group of people who have no idea of what’s happening around them only to go up to the masses in order to tell them how they should live their lives as if they knew more than the feeble people they think listens to them. This is bullshit. Thinking about it makes both Lenin and I sick to our stomachs. Anyway, I haven’t read said articles but I’ll take his word for it when he points out how retarded the exercise is. As an answer to the discrimination articles like the ones in La Prensa project, Blank magazine now has these ads which I believe are truly fantastic, each one of them commenting on a prejudice that people have against others who choose to live outside the established form which, quite frankly, is rather dull and boring. You can see the philosophy behind each of the ads as well as the images themselves by visiting their site here. I believe the work speaks for itself. It’s very good to know that there are people who push the envelope to get their message across, specially if the message is one as important as freedom of speech and the freedom to be who we truly are as individuals.

CELL PHONE CAMERAS: Last night I went with Jenny, Butter and The Groupie to the movies to watch “Pathfinder.” It was rather meh, but I thought the production design was le cool… it surely pumped me up for “300,” coming to Panamanian theaters on March 30^th. Anyway, we kinda part ways after the flick and I decide I wanted to eat something so Jenny tagged along as we hopped across the Multiplaza food court to the KFC for some chicken. So, the miss and I are talking about the random things we usually talk about when I hear a .wav of a snapshot right behind me. I instinctively turn around because that particular sound is rather startling and I see this guy toying with his camera phone, the camera pointing straight at me as the dude was buried into the phone menu. I didn’t think much of it mainly because his phone model was the same as my own, and I know for a fact that the frickin’ thing lags and I sometimes find myself taking an impromptu picture of my thigh, the floor or some discombobulated mess made up of what is mostly a big blur. I also know that no matter what phone profile you put the phone in, be it “Loud,” “Vibe & Ring” or “Silent,” when the camera mode is on and you take a snapshot that God-forsaken snapshot thing will sound off. If you’re on a stakeout and you had to take an undercover picture of whoever’s following you then consider yourself a sitting duck because that thing sounds so frickin’ loud even people in the theaters heard this guy’s phone take that accidental picture. So whatever, we keep talking and when it’s time for me to tell the clerk my order, I couldn’t help but notice that the guy with the phone kept snapping pictures, and they sounded awfully close.

KFC: Welcome to KFC. May I take your order?

Rob: Hello. I’d like a, umm… *snapshot!* combo number one.

KFC: Combo number 1, alright. What kind of soft drink would you like?

Rob: Root Beer.

KFC: Sorry, we don’t have Root Beer. We only have *snap!!!* Pepsi and 7Up.

Rob: Fuck. Pepsi, then. *snappers!*

KFC: French fries or mashed potatoes?

Rob: French fries.

KFC: Sorry, we don’t have french fries… would you like mashed potatoes instead?

Rob: I guess I do. *snappity snap!*

KFC: Alright then, that’ll be a number one combo with *snap* a Pepsi and mashed potatoes. Would you like a delicious biscuit for an extra 20 cents? *snap!*

Rob: I don’t think so, thanks.

KFC: Alright. It’s $3.99, sir. Thank you and enjoy your meal!

So by the time we get out of the line for me to get my order, I’m pretty certain that he’s not snapping pictures by accident; he’s probably just taking pictures of like, the ads or whatever. Maybe the guy really likes KFC, you know what I mean? Thing is that I hear the guy talking to the clerk telling him his order and the fucking snapshot sound keeps going off! So I use my awesome international man of mystery skills to look out of the corner of my eye to see what in the frickin’ hell was going on with this guy and his camera phone as I’m talking to miss Jennifer and by my stars and garters, I catch the guy in the act: Mr. Snapshot is facing the cash register, but his eyes are looking at the cell phone screen. The cell phone screen, and its camera lens, are pointed straight at me. The guy looked like when you want to take a picture of someone without that person finding out but that only results in you looking even more like a person that wants to take a picture he’s not supposed to, a.k.a an idiot. He looked like the total opposite of subtle. He looked like a parody. It’s as if I suddenly stepped into a comedy. For a second I thought he was taking pictures of Jenny ‘cuz hell, she’s bootylicious but I automatically blocked her from the camera’s field of vision just to make sure, and when I heard 2 more snapshots I realized that 1) he’s taking pictures of me and 2) in trying to figure out who he was taking pictures of, I accidentally gave him an excellent view of my ass. As soon as I grabbed my bag of food I tell Jen in my loudspeaker voice: “let’s get outta here cuz that guy is taking too many pictures of me.” Adding insult to injury, Jen looked over my shoulder to catch the guy and started laughing like a hyena.

So I’m either a celebrity or some random dude found me worthy of picture-taking. Either way, judging from the frequency of the snapshots it is safe to assume that this sir jerked off repeatedly to some shitty pictures of me while I ordered some day-old chicken. I believe I’m not very comfortable with that concept, but to each his own. If you see my head attached to the body of some guy with washboard abs and a 14 inch cock fucking a goat on a yacht, then please send it to me so I can post it.

I’m going to this Wednesday’s Beers & Blogs… are you?

Fast-forward a few couple of years; Marco joins the fold in 7^th grade and we raise hell in our own childish ways until 9^th grade came around. I want you to understand something because I feel it’s imperative to the story that you do: contrary to what you know about me from this here site and from hanging out with me, I was shy and introverted. Imagine this skinny kid with a mushroom haircut during recess doing nothing but reading his comics while his friends hung out with their girlfriends. While these guys looked for drama in their lives, I’d read; I guess that back then I just didn’t feel the urge to fuck everything that moved… quite the contrary! I was all about writing… it had started out as a hobby, a way for me to deal with the stuff I was going through at the time which was a serious case of misunderstanding between my parents and I. I was like, what, 14 at the time? Ahh, I remember. I liked a girl. She was this cute Asian girl around 2 or 3 years older than me and I think that, in retrospective, she was fucked up and I didn’t see it. Whatever. Now I see it as a high school crush but back then it was the first time I experienced such a powerful emotion so it was rather overwhelming and believe me that when your former passions were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Street Fighter II and you suddenly jump the boat and swim in the chopped waters of “women,” the adjustment is a long and arduous process. Grade 9 was a turning point for the three of us (Marco, Jean and I… I don’t know if it really was for them, but it definitely was for me) and when the year ended, both of them were kicked out of school because of faulty grades. Personally, I’m pretty sure I would’ve met the boot as well but I really don’t know what happened that I survived. It was probably the first day of my 10^th grade year when I met the associate director at the front gate and she had a huge attendance list:

Old hag: “Roberto Rivera…”

Rob: “Hello…”

Old hag: “What grade are you in?”

Rob: “Tenth…”

Old hag (staring at me the same way you’d wish death on the infidel batstards): “…”

Rob: “Where’s my class?”

Old hag: “Are you sure you’re in 10^th grade?”

Rob: “I am.”

Old hag (staring at me for a few moments only to then look at her list and finding me on the 10^th graders’ list. She sighs): “Second floor, at the end of the hall…”

Rob: “Thank you very much!”

Bitch wanted to screw me over… I would never forget that. Anyway, I started my high school life without much consequence; kept hanging out with Marco while Jean fell off the face of the Earth, from what I gather. While we were all apart (certain stuff happened that made the trinity disperse… I don’t remember what exactly happened so I supposed I hold myself responsible for it) I made great friends at school and all was good until I hit 11^th grade, when Jean returned. The year was 1999; he dropped by my house one random night (like he’d usually do) and we catched up… the conversation kind of went something like this:

Rob: How have you been?

Jean: I’ve been good. You?

Rob: It’s weird not having you guys around but I manage.

Jean: That’s cool. Haven’t seen you nor Marco in a while.

Rob: I know! What have you been doing?

Jean: Studying, man… after 9^th grade I had to study and make up because my dad was gonna kill me otherwise.

Rob: Yeah, I can imagine. What school are you in now?

Jean: This one that’s by Albrook.

Rob: Really? Is it American?

Jean: Sort of, yeah… St. Mary’s?

Rob: I have no idea.

Jean: Yeah, I know. It’s really cool, though. I’ve made a lot of good friends over there… wanna see my girlfriend?

Rob: Sure! Yeah, I’ve met some great people over here, too.

He showed me the picture of his girlfriend, who was in his class. I won’t go any further regarding her since I would imagine she wouldn’t want me talking about her and personally I don’t want to talk about it, either. Just know that she would become “one of the guys.” She looked gorgeous in said photograph; congratulated him for the score.

Jean: She’s a really nice girl, man. Big ass!

Rob: Gotta love it, I guess.

Jean: So what about you? Any girlfriend?

Rob: I kind of had a thing going with this girl in my class but it fell under.

Jean: Why?

Rob: I wish I knew! (after this event I made myself the promise that I’d never leave anyone hanging and tell them exactly what’s happening and why it is. I’ve mostly kept that promise)

Jean: Look, I’m going to tell you something… it’s going to sound really funny but I have to tell you…

Rob: Umm, alright?

Jean: St. Mary’s has the American system of school… we’re in August, so I’m going back to school soon.

Rob: Oh? So you’re on your summer vacations? (the Panamanian school system is reigned by the Latina American way of schooling. Mid-term vacations are 2 weeks in between July and August while our summer vacations start in December and go all the way ’til March or April)

Jean: Yeah! Anyway, when I first got in and got to know people I kept thinking how you guys would really like these guys… they’re really into video games and Anime and all of that stuff.

Rob: I like them already! (he was talking about Magnus and Serge, here)

Jean: And do you remember this fat chinese guy that was in our school for like, a bimester?

Rob: No… in what grade?

Jean: Like, 7^th? I think he came around the same time Marco did.

Rob: Umm, maybe… I must’ve seen him once or twice.

Jean: Well, guess what?

Rob: What?

Jean: He’s in my class, man!

Rob (laughing): That’s really weird…!

Jean: Yeah. He does karate and shit. He likes games, too. (you know this character as The Bastardizer)

Rob: Sounds cool!

Jean: I’d like you to meet all of these guys, man. My friends, my girlfriend… it’d be awesome if we could all hang out! Just like old times!

Rob (laughing): That’d be awesome! (it definitely was)

Jean: In fact! In fact, Rob… there’s someone I want you to meet.

Rob: Really?

Jean: Yeah. She’s this girl in my class. When I first met her she reminded me so much like you, dude.

Rob: What do you mean?

Jean: Well, she talks really fast, like you. She’s always writing and drawing, like you. And she’s crazy, too!

Rob (laughing… yes, I laughed a lot): That’s funny. I don’t talk fast!

Jean: Dude, I have trouble keeping up with you half the time, and the same thing happens with her. I think you’ll like her, man. She’s really white and has green eyes.

Rob: Wow.

Jean: Yeah… do you have ICQ?

Rob: Of course!

Jean: Dude, give me your UIN! I’ll send you her contact so you can meet her!

Rob: 28900528 (it still works to this day; I haven’t gotten online in centuries, though)

Jean (writing the number down): Alright, done. I’m gonna go home and get online right away.

Rob: Are you sure about this? I’m kinda hung up with someone… (the Asian girl I talked about earlier. I guess I regressed)

Jean: Don’t worry man, you’ll really like her. Trust me.

Her nickname was “Sugar is Sweet,” with a bunch of stars and other goofy shit all over the nickname. By that point I had changed my Internet handle for the first time from the generic “SuperSaiyan” to the 1,397,439,704,834,692,640 times geekier “Otaku X” written all l33t and shit, something ridiculous like ºº0+@kü_Xªª or something like that. Also, add an [FC] in front of that, standing for the Fire Cracker Team. Damn, good times. After I graduated high school in 2000 I changed my nickname to what it is now, but that’s beside the point; thing is that Jean was absolutely right in his assessment to the point that I don’t remember the time when the miss and I weren’t all smitten with each other. It was an intense high school summer romance mostly developed through ICQ and other forms of Internet interaction. I don’t remember what happened that made things crumble but I remember I was devastated; I was a kid back then and didn’t know the first thing about dealing with a feeling like this, one which felt larger than myself… I guess that, looking back at it now, the problem then was the same one that’s plagued me to this day: complete and utter fear. How can you control something that’s bigger than yourself? Great things that come unexpected are always going to be too much to handle, someone’s going to drop the ball and I take it that’s what happened. This thing wouldn’t be the end, though… but merely the first of several cycles.

The more I’d “grow up” and become who you see before you today the more detached I’d be. Carefree or careless… I’d risk myself more because I’d feel less and less; I’d build the walls higher, make them stronger and got myself some awesome sea predators to surround my fortress, equipped with laser beams and missiles. Why, though? Right now the concept of wall building and keeping people at arm’s reach seems rather silly to me. At least as far as certain people are concerned. I mean, everyone has walls; we’re in a society where people you never thought would screw you over do exactly that so to a degree walls are truly necessary. But why should I keep people that want nothing but the best for me out? Why should I? Why would I? As you can clearly tell I’m not even a hint of who I used to be back “in the beginning” but certain habits die hard… kryptonite will always cripple Superman, and in the same way the cycles I gump my way into will always cripple me. When the last one came to a close with my bulldozing and crucifixion I remember I had just started working at the porn joint… it was around February or March when I got an email saying I had been dropped for someone else. That was the close. I’d blink, hesitate and lose my shot. I’d get angry at her when I was, actually, angry at myself for letting the fear stop me in my tracks. I wasn’t aware of it, but I felt miserable… and it showed. One of my co-workers and real friends here was sitting next to me and I was trying to work to get my mind off of it (downright impossible as much as I’d hate to admit it) put his hand on my shoulder to get my attention and when I looked, he had this genuinely worried look on his face.

Friend: Rob, are you feeling ok?

Rob: Umm… somewhat. Why?

Friend: Because you don’t look ok.

Rob: Bleh.

Friend: Seriously, man. You look like you’re sick. Like a zombie.

Rob: Really? (Inside I felt like a very serene sea after a storm. Exhausted. Wanting to be left alone. Little did I know that my feelings floated up to the surface)

Friend: Really! Talk to the manager… go home, get some rest. You look like you need it.

I didn’t think it twice, so I did exactly that. Called Marco up and together we went to buy myself a health certificate so they didn’t deduct the 3-day “sick leave” I took as a result of this. I took the rest of the day off to talk to Marco about heartbreak, women, and the good old days. We hung out. It was awesome. No one knew why I took the days off and why I decided to use them to feel sorry for myself and heal. Every time, it feels like a shotgun blast to the chest and even though my regenerative mutant powers have become quicker with age I still need some downtime in order for it all to heal properly.

I’ve been trying to understand why we never learn; why I never learn. I’ve also been trying to understand how every cycle feels exactly the same every time, as if time had stood still and nothing has changed yet we’re still individuals that grow and experience things and learn from them. What I didn’t know before that I do now though is what kept me from doing anything beyond what I had before, time and time again. I was afraid of not being able to control something that’s stronger than myself. Today I’m as carefree about it as I am most things, but certain habits die hard: I can take on any person you put in front of me and I’ll rip them to shreds with my devilish charm and way with words, but this particular deal makes me second guess myself. It makes me feel small and, most alarmingly, it makes me feel unimportant. Nobody likes to feel like a fool, most importantly when it’s caused by people you love.

Things are very different now than they were then; sadly, I’ve distanced myself from the friends I made back then (yet I still love them dearly) and the people I met through Jean then are the ones I go out and drown my sorrows with now. If it wasn’t for that visit that one night I wouldn’t have met miss Sugar is Sweet, nor Magnus or Serge nor the Bastardizer. If it wasn’t for that visit, nothing would’ve kick-started the events that led to me writing this post here. Six, seven years in the making and there have been so many changes, yet not at all at the same time. In many ways I feel like I owe him some gratitude.

To end this pompous rant I’d like to point something out to you, esteemed reader, and pass on some knowledge that could be useful for you in the long run: every move you make causes an impact not just in your life, but in the lives of the people around you. Every word left unsaid, every action not taken is another door closed; another way to a better life, shut off by fear. Don’t let it happen. Look, using my situation as an example, if I’ve been running around this long with this crap and the lovely miss that takes part in these “cycles” comes along for the ride and humors my behavior then I think it’s about time I pulled my head out of my ass and did something about it. I think that this is a point in time where I believe she would agree.

Overlooking the obvious here is like ostriches sticking their heads in the sand to avoid predators: it’s downright moronic.

Time is ticking. My beautiful, God-sent wake up call won’t have me doing this crap any longer; I’m tired of feeling insecure and like something’s missing. All of these things are what happens when you don’t take chances, kind sir/madam… if you have something that you’ve left pending, then perhaps it’s time you got on with it because waiting for things to happen and for opportunities to present themselves will only make you grow older faster. Don’t let it.

1. Bastardizer Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 10:33 am

JAJAJAAJA… I’m not a “VIVIDOR” WHAT THE FUCK?!!?!?!?! I just imagined like a Miami Vice drug dealer saying that. I’m so sorry I missed that thing last night… Chulo… and I also heard someone got killed last night at the concert??

Miami Vice drug dealer = José Yiero. God, I loved that movie. It’s coming out on DVD in December, too. I can’t. Fucking. Wait. and yes, sir… you were missed that night. I still haven’t heard about someone getting killed over at the concert, though; could anyone clear this up for us? Inquiring minds would like to know.

2. Yamile Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 12:16 pm

It’s that damn Rob Rivera!
He’s so hot right now!
ref here!

Zoolander! I dismissed the flick as fucking silly and stupid at first but then I caught it on cable and it blew my mind. I used to go to this internet café and my girlfriend at the time as well as the manager of the joint where watching it on the computer and they’re laughing their asses off; didn’t know what the hell was going on… now, I can’t help but quote it like Yamile just did at least once a week… it’s my quota. T-shirt here, and below is a movie you should definitely see if you like over-the-top silly movies… ladies and gentlemen, I present to you (big thanks to Frost for the web find!)… “Nacho Libre:”

3. Lucho Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 1:25 pm

hahahaha youd be amazed at how unkept my hands are, im trying to change that tho so dont be amazed if you see me with black nail polish one of these days, its just to help me stop biting my nails…

You’re one of the exceptions I mentioned in the post, though.

4. Antonio Touriño Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 2:22 pm

En mi grupo operamos mas o menos bajo el codgio que el que tiene paga. Nos resulta bueno a nosotros pq nos conocemos y no nos aprovechamos. Pero, creo que esa filosofía no funciona con extraños…; ) Supongo que soy un chulo… :S Mi novia me invita a comer cuando puede… : D

To which I replied:

5. Rob Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 2:50 pm

Yo hago igual; si quiero/puedo invitar a alguien a algo pues cool y si no pues tambien… si alguien me quiere invitar a algo no me quejo, pero usualmente hay fair play; en las rondas de las pinta cada uno paga una generalmente y asi todos tomaron/gastaron la misma cantidad… Es solo que ese man me k-brió porque se la quería tirar del gallo pechón.

Now, here comes the good part! This is the kind of stuff I just can’t possibly come up with on my own. This guy’s worse than Chtulhu! For the love of Marley, this dude’s on a mission!

6. ProudPanamanian Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 5:54 pm

Look ugly american…if you don’t like Panama,Panamanian men or whatever in Panama…PACK YOUR STUFF AND LEAVE PANAMA AND GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY.

There is no need to put down Panamanian men,besides,i THINK YOU ARE JUST PLAIN JEALOUS OF LATINO MEN/PANAMANIAN MEN.ANGLO SAXON MEN ARE TOO SISSY FOR US,PANAMANIAN WOMAN.THE ONLY PANAMANIAN WOMAN WHO MARRIES EXPATS IS BECAUSE SHE IS EITHER TOO SLUT TO GET MARRIED LOCALLY OR SHE IS PLAIN TOO POOR AND WANT
YOUR MONEY….
GO TRAVEL,UGLY AMERICAN.Macho attitude is EVERYWHERE..EVEN IN THE USA,CANADA AND EUROPE…

Have you ever seen/Do you remember how Hulk Hogan was in the 80’s back when he was starting in the WWF? He was 10 shades of crazy. At first I kind of agreed with the Bastardizer’s template of Miami Vice drug kingpin but now that I ponder on it I think I like imagining him as a coked-up Hulk Hogan more. What’s most alarming about this guy is when he says:

GO TRAVEL,UGLY AMERICAN.Macho attitude is EVERYWHERE..EVEN IN THE USA,CANADA AND EUROPE…

If “Macho attitude” is everywhere (I’m sure it is, I’ll give him that much) then, umm… it doesn’t matter to me, because I’m not in it to have sexual encounters with men, so this piece of info is useless. Also, so much time and preparation and the worst insult you could come up with was “ugly American?” What are we, 5 years old? Frankly… I’m disappointed, Proud Panamanian. I could go on, but things are just getting started! I’ll save my shots for later, and that “later” is coming up right now!

7. panajane Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 5:56 pm

Have you seen my nails lately?? Short but clean.

I think I can safely say that this lady can have the arms of a mantis and I wouldn’t care one iota. Oh, the Proud Panamanian returns… this time, in Spanish!

8. ProudPanamanian Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 5:58 pm edit

Oye tu no eres mas que un cabronazo,sexista,machista y maldito.

Esperate que llamo a Migracion para que te deporten,maldito gringo del carajo.

Largate de Panama y no vuelvas nunca mas.
Una plaga como tu merece estar viviendo en Canada o Estados Unidos..no en Panama,porque nos contaminas.
Largate ya !

Wait a second… huh? In a nutshell, the Proud Panamanian (which it’s safe to assume is the ultimate representation of macho and stands right by that) just called me sexist, macho, a bastard and whatever the hell a “cabronazo” is. I don’t know about you, folks, but I think the Proud Panamanian is sending mixed signals here. Immigration doesn’t want anything to do with me, mostly because i’m Panamanian and can’t be deported from my home country. See, this is another thing Panamanians do a lot which is we don’t read. Well, I read. And I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who like to read but it’s obvious to me this character has no idea who the hell he’s dealing with. Ahh, being ridden doggy style by your own emotions… such a sad, sad thing. I think he just called me a virus or something, too. So, if I really do represent freedom of thought and alternative culture like I’ve been hearing lately, then the Proud Panamanian wants it all gone. I repeat: the Proud Panamanian wants freedom of thought and culture out of the country. No wonder we’re fucked as a country. He continues by being uncharacteristically polite with his plea:

9. ProudPanamanian Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 6:00 pm edit

yes,short ,war-like and IMPERIALIST.

Do me a favor,go back to your USA and never come back,ok?

I… I don’t even know what the hell he’s trying to say here. Is he saying that Jane’s nails are imperialist? What? The Proud Panamanian’s tricks confuse me. And on a side note, I think it’s adorable that this guy thinks I’m a gringo. Cute as hell; I think I should send him a card. Up next, Jane to the rescue:

10. panajane Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 6:01 pm

Oye pedazo de estupido, Rob es corto para Roberto y el es Panameno. Talvez deberias de averiguar algunas cositas antes de escribir estupideces. Obviamente este tema te toco algun nervio.

Tu modo de pensar es tan anticuado.

Alright, that’s it. Jane, you and me. Let’s elope. Let’s go to Bocas or Chiriquí or something and grow old together. I’m low maintenance, funny and I love you with every fiber of my being. We would make the Proud Panamanian very happy! Speaking of which, at this point in time I had awaken from my slumber and noticed all of this stuff going on… of course, I was in bliss:

11. Rob Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 6:06 pm

Hahahaha WOW!!! Mr. Proud Panamanian, I’d love to leave. I say you gather some money for a one way ticket and give it to me; that way I can blog about Panama from abroad!

This is probably the coolest hater EVER.

And for the record, my dad’s from Bocas del Toro and my mom’s from Colon; My country’s this one, sir. How about them apples? Please, read the entire site where I talk about my Panamanian heritage and talk about its ails so you can send more hate comments! I keep getting messages from people talking about you. It’s quite funny.

I keep going, too:

12. Rob Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 6:07 pm

Y sí, le tocó el nervio. Ella acaba de decir en 3 frases lo que me tomó a mí 3 parrafos… vaya escritor que soy.

I have a point, there. Antonio adds himself to the convo!

13. Antonio Touriño Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 7:47 pm

Solo tengo una cosa que decir…. MIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! Gata! : D

This one can go one of two ways: he’s either speaking about Jane which, if I may say so, is right on the money; the lady fanned out her claws, it was amazing and downright heartwarming. If he’s talking about the Proud Panamanian though then I want to assume this person’s a girl because I have it on good authority that I piss women off easily so it’s not that far fetched, and if the Proud Panamanian is a guy and reading this (I know you are, you cheeky mumkee!) then he/she/it is gonna be even more pissed now. Such is the way of the Macho Man.

14. Frost Said:

October 5th, 2006 at 7:52 pm

lmao

that is all.

I second that sentiment. Before meeting the guys and gals for beers I call Jen so she can read the madness going on here and this morning she dropped this off on the comments section:

15. 2SXC Said:

October 6th, 2006 at 6:34 am

DAMN!! Hahaha yes Rob, you definetely won the crown back for Hate Comments. I was called a fat, hateful, angry judgemental bitch in my blog because of my feelings towards speedos (although I was backed on it more than once)….but I was never told to leave Panama…pats on the fucking back man! Hahahaha

This girl is probably one of the coolest people I will ever meet. You should check out her blog, too… it’s hilarious. That speedo’s story is also noteworthy so be sure to check it out. We’re heading to the home stretch too so don’t worry, esteemed reader! The torture will end soon!

16. Bastardizer Said:

October 6th, 2006 at 6:44 am

Oh Mr. Proud Panamanian… You are showing you Alpha macho state right now by posting this hate comment… And yes, Rob is CEDULA 8… ES MAS MORON, LLAMA A MIGRACION PARA QUE QUEDES COMO UN IMBECIL.

I’m gonna scan my I.D (my scanner’s at Lucho’s but I’ll see what I do to have that done and I’ll post it here… hell, I’ll do a header, even) so you can see it, Mr. Proud Panamanian. This guy’s comment hits the nail on the head, though: as you can clearly tell from his/her/it’s comments, the Proud Panamanian is macho, likes his/her/it’s women to be submissive and weak, and has a disliking for ex-pats and gringos… stuff of which I’m neither. The Proud Panamanian can’t read well so he/she/it jumps to conclusions and goes on and on about me leaving my country and capping my freedom of speech because he can’t take on the truth? Fuck you. Panama’s famous for its corruption and sleaziness just as much as it is for its beautiful scenery, and ignoring the former isn’t gonna make it go away. At least I’m pointing the problems out so that people both here and abroad are sparked into doing something about it and therefore eradicate idiots like this person off the face of the Earth. This is the type of person who would not let his significant other work or study because, according to him, it’s not her role. To the Proud Panamanian, it seems to me, women only serve for being a cum depository and a 24/7 maid. Fuck you. It’s disgusting. the Proud Panamanian is disgusting and I’m tired of making an ass out of you. There are more comments coming in so check out the post here if you’re interested. I’d like to thank everyone who came in and defended me… you’re great friends. I know that my thoughts get me in trouble and knowing this you still put your hand in the fire and stick up for me… thank you very much. And thank you, reader, for finding the funny in me stirring the shit. Now, I could use some breakfast.

A few days ago, a friend of mine came over to work on a few things that had to be done for The Sound of Creation. He immediately started talking about a “gentleman” that asked him about “The Sound of Creation”. My friend was surprised that this person even knew about the project and he pretty much told him things were doing just fine. Sounds like the movie is getting its appropriate buzz but things started getting ugly when this “gentleman” said, “it’s funny that Marco talks bad about Panama and has the balls to ask for donations on top of all that”. I was extremely offended and shocked when I heard this but I decided to let this one slip and keep on walking since it was just one person. Guess what? I was at a meeting with the gang at Porto Diao talking about a few things we’re going to do at Birrea Fest 2006 and one of my friends ended up telling me that somebody from work told him the same exact thing! Which I must add, this person is also a good friend of the gentleman who spoke with my other friend. I have heard this same story from different people and apparently this endless bad mouthing spawns from this same group of gentlemen. Other than this small group of friends, I never hear anything similar to what their saying.

To put it in simple terms, this hasn’t been the first time I’ve heard of a scenario like this and it probably won’t be the last. Panamanians can be rather defeatist at times, even if that backwash mentality seems finally be at it’s last breath. Still, this is a common custom of Panamanian culture: just as there are Honest-to-God people who don’t player hate and support other people’s efforts, there are just as many who will try to stir the shit and bring a brother down. I’ve had this conversation with Smoth many a time, too; there’s always going to be people who will try to bring you down… it’s so much a fact of life I feel somewhat ridiculous I even have to say it. But I’m going to make a specific point for Panama because it’s not the same thing to bring someone down in, say, New York, as it is here and I attribute it to a few determining factors. First of all is the size of our country; for all of the natural disasters we have managed to avoid thanks to our glorious geography the “small town” feel of the capital is certainly limiting, and that handicaps a lot of things in the ways of art and culture: how can it be that Costa Rica, for example… a country double our size but less culturally and monetarily rich than us can have such a huge staple of music, literature, art and many other socially enriching movements when in Panama a literary event where 20 people show up to is considered a massive hit? Nothing new and exciting hits the “mainstream” since Panamanians are quick to label, much like the “chic” crowd you deal with in your hometown. What do i mean by this? Simple: hasn’t it ever happened to you that you meet someone, anyone, and after knowing each other for anywhere between 15 minutes and a week your new “friend” thinks he knows all about you because you fit a certain mold he’s been taught by the TV and other media? You can be a geek (and therefore a virgin), a goth (and therefore worship Satan and Marilyn Manson), bohemian (and therefore are in a constant state of hallucinogenic bliss), emo (therefore gay and with the aching desire to hurt yourself), a pothead (tied closely to bohemians, by the way), a cokehead (usually Chinese), a raver (and therefore love drugs), a “zonian” (people who live in the areas once occupied by the U.S military, usually tied to potheads), a fanatic (therefore you’re a virgin and believe that God is your only savior and everyone else around you is a sinner, therefore going to hell), and the list goes on and on and on and on until exhaustion.

Panamanians tend to act before they think. Nothing wrong with that; in fact, it’s been my M.O for the past 4 years and so far I’m swinging. But you always have to be sure of what you’re doing, and most importantly that whatever it is you’re doing doesn’t end up hurting anyone else due to your… umm, let’s say “lack of vision.” But the Panamanian doesn’t understand the concept: he will shoot his mouth off 100% that his is the unconditional truth and that everyone else is wrong… of course, this makes for great TV since I see this kind of behavior on the news every day and I always have the internal conflict where I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry… It’s simply frustrating how oblivious they are to how ridiculous they sound whenever they talk about whatever their stance is, one informed by biased and/or faulty data that they believe it to be the truth because the person who came up with it is sympathetic to their cause (making it rather pointless when you think about it) and it’s with that same blind conviction and lack of proper research that they go up to the cameras and make complete asses of themselves in public. That’s why I think activist leaders are hypocritical idiots, men with their own agenda but with the lack of intelligence to put their plans of country domination in motion… I have some trivia for you, though what’s the difference between a Panamanian politician and a Panamanian activist leader? Panamanian politicians have more money for their cause.

But I’m going off-topic: The thing about Panama is this that there’s gossip about everyone and a lot of it is stemmed from ill-will… I really don’t know how someone can magically spawn hatred for another and I haven’t experienced it myself (at least not unfounded. my nemesis has yet to reveal himself but I do have enough villains to form a Sinister Six if I wanted… that’s funny, I have clones but no nemesis!) but I can take a stab at it with a couple of theories: it could be that me, as a douchebag who hates on other people, would hate whoever I hate because he has come up with an original idea and it seems to be accepted by the public. Jealousy. It can stem from jealousy. Why is that? Maybe it’s because this hate-bearer sees his focus of attention’s life and in comparison makes his own mundane and worth killing yourself for. Maybe he just wishes he had the same intelligence/imagination/massive balls to be the way he is, when he has small dingleberries for a scrotum. Hell, maybe rainbows spew out of his ass when he takes a dump and thinks of his nemesis while Care Bears and unicorns frolic about in the privacy of his bathroom, a scenario that would definitely be masturbation-worthy for him. Who the hell jerks off to unicorns? A sad individual, that’s who.

Smoth and I, we’ve been raising hell for years. Sometimes I forget what my life was like before I met him. And before you, my fellow Panamanian, start making up gossip about how we pull out “Morty,” our double-headed dildo and give him a go after we record a successful podcast while we listen to the “Titanic” soundtrack, I want you to stop right there and think about this for a second: what do you gain from this? Hell, I’ll open this question up to all of you fine folks out there… what does this person get out of it? Shits and giggles? Hell, for shits and giggles I go watch a movie. I guess it’s flattering how you can have someone else all riled up just because you’re breathing and I take it it’s cool to have people dropping in on what you’re doing in your life (*ahem*) but when you’re picking out every little detail in order to distort and spew it back out as poison then there’s a problem. There’s light at the end of the tunnel, though… and I believe that one of the post’s numerous comments of support sumarizes my sentiment to the T:

Comment by Luis Alberto

September 17, 2006 @ 6:43 pm

hey man.. all i can say… FUCK EM! and i would also like to add some words of wisdoms from DON QUIJOTE DE LA MANCHA…..

“los perros ladran sancho, señal de que avanzamos”

-don quijote

All I can say is that artists and cultural warriors have it rough because they not only have to fight against the injustice that the road taken throws at them, but also the incompetent idiots that lack the berries to take “the road less traveled” and feel compelled to undermine those with more courage than themselves. Typical of a Third World country: Panama will never rise above its imperfections until enough people realize that the only way we’ll truly become the First World country we’re close to being is if we stop hating on each other and unifying for a common goal. Of course, since most of these people are stuck feeling sorry for themselves and trying to pull down everyone they can that’s in their proximity, I think we’re still a few years off. As I’ve said before, though… slowly but surely, we’re getting there and personally I’m not going to let some pamper-soiling dickwad stand in my way. It’s funny how the Panamanian relies a lot in lies he tells himself over and over until he believes them to be true, which in part is the ultimate purpose of gossip, in my opinion; if someone talks lies or intimate details about someone else with the intent to harm and enough people hear the rumor until it becomes true, then what’s the difference to trying to convince yourself that we live in a First World country? My appreciation is that we live in the best and most modern Third World country this side of the planet. A better appreciation of this though is definitely the Bastardizer’s, revealed the very same night Smoth talks about in his post: “Panama is a Second World country.” And what’s a Second World country, Bastardizer?

“Panama!”