Lots of Monkeys

The first of the free movies has been released for the Animatrix.

The movie, titled “The Second Renaissance Part I” contains graphic imagery, as well as cinematography based on famous historic images and videos. The film itself is ten minutes long, and details the events that lead up to the eventual downfall of the human race. The machines have always been thought of as the “bad guys” of the Matrix world, but how did they get to that point? This film starts to answer that question. The film is poignant and sad, primarily because it’s so easy to believe.

The movie takes on the form of a “historical archive” composed of footage from news shows and videos. Some of the footage made me wince, primarily because I recognize the events in our history.

If you’re in any way interested in the Matrix universe, you should check it out–but be prepared.

Just because it’s a “cartoon” doesn’t mean it’s in any way appropriate for children.

Can someone tell me why, someone would release volumes 1, 2, 3, 4, 6 and 7 of a series and not volume 5?

So, here’s the predicament. I’m watching the Roughnecks Chronicles which is based on Robert Heinlein’s novel, “Starship Troopers.” The novel was essentially an essay about citizenship, democracy, and sociology that happened to have powered armor and “bugs.” It’s an interesting read, and good science fiction intermingled with a philosophical slant. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the main character was Filipino. Which was nice, because, well it made absolutely no difference. It was a hero that just happened to be of Filipino ancestry. Race just wasn’t an issue whatsoever.

The television series actually captures the gritty feeling of the novel much more accurately than the live action movie, which I thought was complete trash with occasional flashes of cool computer generated effects. Of course, I still enjoyed it.

In comparison to the movie, the series is completely computer generated, well written, and amazingly enough, well acted. It has the feel of a World War II movie, except uh, with power armor and giant insects. It was broadcast on television for a while until the toy manufacturers and Sony realized that it was perhaps too violent to be a children’s show. (Ed. Note: Ya think?!) As a result, funding was pulled and the series was cut. However, they did complete the series as best they could.

When I saw that they released the DVDs, I was quite happy. I could finally watch the series in its entirety.

Except for the fact that they didn’t release five episodes. These five episodes would have made up volume 5 of the DVD series.

So now, I own the DVDs, with a big missing chunk in the middle. The missing episodes are readily apparent as when I go from volume 4 to volume 6, as the first episode of volume 6 resolves some sort of cliffhanger. As I watched the first episode of volume 6, I thought, “Just what in the hell is going on?”

After some research, I’m currently in the process of tracking down and bootlegging the missing episodes, which are:

• 121 Ice Asteroid: Day 1 Feb 08/00 Ice-Olation
• 122 Ice Asteroid: Day 2 Feb 15/00 Mixed Signals
• 123 Ice Asteroid: Day 3 Nov 25/99 Hot Ice
• 124 Ice Asteroid: Day 4 Jan 17/00 The Inside Story
• 125 Ice Asteroid: Day 5 Mar 09/00 The Ice Men Goeth

If anyone happens to have these in a handy format, let me know.

In addition to not releasing these five episodes, the final three episodes of the series were never produced.

These final episodes were to culminate in a final, apocalyptic battle deep within the earth that involved no less than 150 robotic battle suits that were designed to fight in lava. The descent to fight the bug queen was going to resemble Dante’s Inferno, with levels loosely based on the “circles of hell.”

I know what you’re thinking–how could they not produce these episodes?

They just sound too good.

Note: Yes, I know, this post has nothing to do with race or terrorists or shuttles exploding or current events. I have a DVD set that is incomplete, and probably will never be complete.

And yet, somehow, life goes on.

So my roommate comes into my room. I’m easing into Saturday with a bit of videogaming, so I just grunt hello.

He’s got his phone in his hand and he tells me that Columbia just blew up.

My eyes open. Talk about what our country doesn’t need right now.

My mind flashes back to sixth grade. I’m in a small classroom at a private shool in San Diego. It’s on the ground floor, and looks out over our tarmac playground. It’s a nice day in San Diego, so I’d really much rather be outside. Our books are glossing over Columbus’s “discovery” of American when the speakers at the front of the classroom buzz with their activation.

I wonder who’s in trouble this time. Somebody’s going to the office to have a talk.

The voice from the speakers tells us that the Shuttle Challenger had an accident.

Somebody wheels in a television and the seventh and eighth grade classes join us in our classroom. We watch the videos of the shuttle launching. There’s a sudden puff of smoke, then the grotesque plumes of smoke reaching down towards the earth. Then there was silence.

Then the first words out of somebody’s mouth, “It would only take one terrorist bomb to do that.” Nervous titters go around the room. Grade schoolers accuse “terrorists” of everything.

Somehow, I don’t think that then, any of us really had any idea of what terrorism was.

Today, our ideas have changed. So, when my roommate comes in and tells me the shuttle has exploded, I think “o-ring.” Of course, still, in the back of my mind, there’s a dumb, nagging fear. Not that terrorists have blown up a shuttle–but a fear that somebody, somewhere, is blaming “terrorists” for it.

It’s just a strange period of time we live in.

So, as an exercise of my own fair use policy, I’ve purchased import CDs from Japan and ripped them to my hard drive at work. This is done so that I can listen to the music that I’ve bought without having to shuttle the CDs back and forth. However, these are Japanese CDs, and when the information about the CD came up, only black squares appeared where there should have been kanji, katakana, hiragana, etc. You’ve seen them before in corrupt word documents and whatnot.

Naturally, I figured that the characters couldn’t be displayed because I didn’t have East Asian Language support installed on my machine.

So I installed East Asian Language support for the machine at work. Twenty minutes later, I rebooted, and lo and behold–

I spent twenty minutes to install western characters. Ah well. Can’t be helped.

The artist featured above is Ayumi Hamasaki, one of the most successful Japanese pop stars I think, ever.

As an American of Filipino ancestry, I find myself burdened by my own skin.

There are times when I look at my country and I know–that a good majority of its ruling class would consider me inferior because of the color of my skin. It’s not a good feeling. The truth hurts.

Enter the Military Order of the Carabao. “Carabao,” in tagalog, translates to “water buffalo.” Now, you’re probably wondering what goes on at events that they throw. Well, the Village Voice has this article that details their Annual Wallow, which is held each year on the Saturday closest to February 4, the date of the Philippine Insurrection. They also go into detail about this oft glossed over period of American history, during which the United States purchases the Philippines from Spain. That however, is a different post. On to the Annual Wallow. Read the article? Good.

Everyone, say hello to the the men in charge of our military. Feel better? I know I do. I feel even better, knowing that the Department of Homeland Security has moved literally, across the street. I walk home that way sometimes. Part of me says that this will impact nothing. Part of me imagines armed guards accosting me on the walk home (inexplicably with German accents) and asking me, “Papers. . . Please.”

I want to go down the Omni Shoreham and see if this order really exists. I just want to see, with my own eyes. I want to read the black plastic board with the white plastic letters that never seem straight enough.

I’m afraid though. I’m afraid that I’ll read:

Military Order of the Carabao
Pacific Ballroom
POSITIVELY NO FILIPINOS ALLOWED

Seventy-three years later, I still carry the burden of skin.