I’m not much of a TV addict. If ever I do watch TV, I’d just tune in to news and current affairs but I no longer have the patience to sit through any TV series. Blame it on my erratic schedules in going home.

Probably the last time I really tuned in to any TV series was when Murphy Brown was still on – and that was probably more than 15 years ago. Even Sex and the City never really caught my attention, despite the rather steamy scenes there. I tried watching Fox Mulder’s and Dana Scully’s exploits in the X-Files, but I just couldn’t follow each weekly episode religiously.

But now there’s a TV series that has really gotten me hooked, and I’m sure many other people out there share my fanaticism. It features an apparently random group of people whose discovery of their respective superhuman powers slowly interconnects them to each other. They’re not as flashy as the X-men, nor do they wear star-spangled costumes and capes like the members of the Justice League. Nevertheless, they possess superhuman powers which they could or could not control. By now, I guess you’d know that I’m referring to the NBC TV series, Heroes.

Actually, I wasn’t able to complete the entire first season of Heroes on a weekly basis so I borrowed a friend’s DVD (Yes, she really invested in the DVD) and spent two weekends watching it. I’m not the kind of person you’d find sitting in front of the TV the whole day, but I endured a sore butt just to watch a marathon run of Heroes. And it was so darn worth it!

Season 1 of Heroes begins by establishing the different roles of each character. I think it is after the third episode where the lives of the characters start to interconnect either through random encounters or through situations that force them together. First to see the connection among the characters of the story is the Indian professor, Mohinder Suresh, who picks up where his late father has left off in his controversial research. His father’s research has led him on a quest to find two things: first, his father’s killer; and second, the subjects of the older Suresh’s research. Before his death, Chandra Suresh (Mohinder’s father) has apparently proven his theory that there are several people in the world whose DNA has apparently evolved, giving them extraordinary powers. This, according to the older Suresh, is a sign of humans taking on the next level in the evolutionary ladder. Unfortunately, since his father failed to turn over his findings, Mohinder had to take on the solitary task of searching for these special people using whatever clues were left by his father, as well as clues he stumbled upon.

As the connection among the main characters tightened, it was slowly revealed to the viewers that apart from Mohinder, there was another person looking for these “heroes” but for more sinister reasons. There was also an omen hanging over New York City as it was predicted by several of the main characters that it would be destroyed in a big explosion. Unfortunately, it was not certain as to who would trigger the explosion, or whether it could be stopped. Everything came to a head in the final episode of Season 1.

The running motto all throughout the first season of Heroes was, “Save the cheerleader, save the world.” There were also images that were often seen throughout the series like the “helix” symbol (Thanks to Wikipedia for the information), a scar seen on the necks of several main characters, as well as the solar eclipse. All these recurring elements were among the threads that bound the entire story together.

The helix, as the producers came to name the symbol, looks like a lower-case curved f that fell face-down. It is often seen either within the surroundings or possessions of a hero (like on Hiro Nakamura’s ancient samurai sword) or on the hero himself/herself, as with the case of Niki Sanders who exhibits the helix tattoo on her back when she turns into her stronger and more kick-ass alter-ego, Jessica. I interpret this helix as the symbol of a hero, whether from the past, present, or future.

The scar, meanwhile, is the implied result of testings made on some of the main characters in the story, namely Matt Parkman, Ted Sprague, Isaac Mendez, Hana Gitelman, and Claude (the last two of whom were only seen in about two or three episodes). These characters do not recall how they got the scar, and claim to have lapses in memory. Eventually, truth about the scars they have reveals a connection to a “company” that deals in the existence of people with superhuman abilities like them. And the plot thickens.

As for the solar eclipse, I think this symbolizes the far-from-ordinary characteristics manifested by the heroes of the story. While it’s quite impossible to witness a real solar eclipse within a span of a few weeks or even a few months, the symbolism in relation to the story is quite vivid.

Wait a minute, I’m giving away too much of the story already. This just proves how hooked I am with the show.

I can probably just name several of my most cherished characters in Heroes. There’s Hiro Nakamura, the time-bending Japanese guy, played by Masi Oka. He’s accompanied by his good friend, Ando Masahashi (James Kyson Lee). These two provide the comic relief of sorts in Heroes, but their characters are not relegated to simple toilet humor. The funny thing about Hiro is that he is a fan of the Star Trek series, and the man playing his father in Heroes is George Takei – one of the mainstays in the original Star Trek.

There’s the cheerleader with the super-fast healing powers, Claire Bennet (Hayden Panetierre), who became the subject of the motto, “Save the cheerleader, save the world.” Her character was quite a complicated one because of her relationship to the other heroes. She’s an adopted daughter of H.R.G., also known as Mr. Bennet (Jack Coleman) who has connections with the “company.” Her parents were revealed to be the politician/hero Nathan Petrelli, and a woman with the power to produce flame with her hands, Meredith Gordon. Peter Petrelli, Nathan’s younger brother who has the ability to absorb superpowers of other heroes, takes on the job of saving Claire to save the world, and Claire eventually learns that Peter is her long-lost uncle. I think this kid has the coolest superpowers. Imagine being able to walk out of their burning house all charred up only to heal simultaneously before her family’s very eyes. No matter how mangled she gets – she is literally opened up from the chest to the stomach on top of an autopsy table at one point – she can still return to her original state with nary a scratch.

Heroes became a turning point in Milo Ventimiglia’s career after his portrayal of superpower-absorbing Peter Petrelli. Now he’s one of Hollywood’s hottest hunks to date, but he’s not my cup of tea. My version of “hot” goes to his two fellow Heroes actors, Nathan Petrelli (Adrian Pasdar) and Matt Parkman (Greg Grunberg).

I know that Nathan Petrelli is depicted as some sort of a weakling, but there’s something about his dignified, Armani-clad politician ways that really gets to me. And those chiseled features…that clean, shaved face with the prominent jawline, nice haircut, and cleft chin…RAWRRR!!!

Matt Parkman, meanwhile, reminds me of a really big teddy bear. While he’s a gun-wielding cop with the power to read what’s on people’s minds, his character takes a softer personality. His dealings with women (except for Niki/Jessica) and children are quite heart-melting. Even his FBI partner thinks he’s cute. It’s only too bad that his character gets divorced by the second season. Wait, I shouldn’t be revealing that…

While he’s not my most cherished character, he has definitely made a mark in the long roster of villains in many a TV series. He’s Sylar (Zachary Quinto), so far the creepiest cast member of Heroes. In some ways, he’s like Peter Petrelli in the sense that he can absorb other heroes’ superpowers. However, he first has to kill the said hero to get the superpower in question. (Gasp!) This guy always manages to leave a trail of blood wherever he goes. One can think of 100 ways to get killed, but Sylar has more and better ideas. The funny thing about this guy is that he hides his real persona behind a presumably harmless character, that’s why it’s not very hard to take a liking to him at first. Probably that’s the “beauty” behind Sylar’s character. By the way, Zachary is now quite busy working between his Heroes tapings and his new film. According to several entertainment sources, he has been tagged to play the young Mr. Spock in the newest offering of the classic Star Trek movie. It’s funny what ripping off the top of the head of hapless victims can do for one’s career.

Ordinary people with the power to become heroes – this is the underlying theme behind Heroes. This is somewhat parallel to the Xlibris book, The Superhero’s Closet, by H. Andrew Lynch. However, what happens in the latter is somewhat a reversal of the former. The Superhero’s Closet revolves around the question: what happens when superheroes decide to retire after a life of fighting crime and saving the world?

However, there’s no room to think about retirement for the cast and crew of Heroes. As of this moment, Season 2 has already begun, and viewers will be pleased to see the return of several cast members who were thought of as dead or dying. In fact, more heroes will be introduced in the new season, adding to the merry jumble of characters…

…And I’m making sure I really tune in to the second season of Heroes this time.

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In my 37 years of existence, I’ve seen emotional relationships (mine and that of other people) either flourish or head for oblivion. People in these said relationships (me included) insist that love was the basis for their relationship. But now that I’m older and (supposedly) wiser, I could truly say that about 80 percent of these so-called “love-based relationships” are just plain hogwash.

Okay, okay…call me a sour grape, but let me reinforce my argument with past relationships and quasi-relationships that I got myself into.

In my early media days a long, loooong time ago, I was working in the supplement and the kiddie sections of a newspaper when I got to work with our resident artist. He was lanky, a silent type, but with the sexiest lips I have seen on a guy.

Soon enough Mr. Artist Guy and I went dating and sort of became a couple. There was an obvious attraction, but there was a big, BIG problem: both of us were in relationships with other people.

That relationship went down the drain, but not after the staple confrontations and waterworks. As time went on Mr. Artist Guy's and my paths would meet – but still under the wrong circumstances. Either it was he who had a girlfriend and I was unattached, or I had a boyfriend and he was unattached.

During those times, I was convinced that we were soulmates. But now, I guess what happened between us was just a case of being there for the other at a time of loneliness when one was at his/her must vulnerable. Maybe it was love, maybe it was not, but one thing’s for sure: it was one of my most memorable relationships.

Then during the latter part of my media days, in came this fellow reporter who named his cars, wore leather jackets in the middle of summer, drank hard, smoked too much, cursed too much – and he proposed to me even after I just gave birth to my only daughter. The man was literally wrangling me from my (now ex-) husband’s grasp! He was the epitome of rugged machismo, and if I was just after wild sex, flashy cars, and life on the fast lane, I would’ve seriously considered having him as a new sperm donor. Unfortunately I couldn’t care less if he could do a thousand one-arm pushups or leap tall buildings in a single bound: his excessive testosterone levels annoyed me. I must admit, though: it was nice getting free rides in his red Porsche. Saved a lot on gas money in those days.

When Mr. Macho Guy found out that I got divorced, he tried his pick-up lines on me again – and still, to no avail. Nevertheless, ten years after that so-called “relationship” he thought we had, he professes that he still loves me. (Excuse me while I barf...) Yeah right: he loves me in leather or in a French maid's costume. He just doesn't understand the fact that even if he acquired another brand-new car or if he can easily buy me anything my heart desires, those are not even worth a romp in the haystack with him -- much less, using the word "love" on him. Moral of the story: If it barks like a bitch, smells like a bitch, and bites your hand off like a bitch, then it would most probably be a bitch. So back off.

And of course, there was also my wonderful (note the dripping sarcasm) ex-husband. Met him after I graduated from college. (Whoopee…) Spent four years in an off-and-on romance with him. Got married, had a baby…not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to take to married life very well so we ended up divorced. Poor guy just couldn’t take my industrial-strength personality. Yeah, yeah…I know you’d ask why I didn’t see that coming early on. Probably I was in love then, or probably it was just hormones jumping around – I dunno. Moral of the story: love is great – then reality kicks in.

As stated earlier, I’m single again – but not quite. The culprit behind this vague situation is a man I met in my recent stint in the academe. I never met a guy who could meet my bitchiness head-on and still come out standing – until he came. That’s because he can be quite a bastard himself when he wanted to. Yes, Professor was quite a looker: he was even considered a campus heartthrob by both students and fellow faculty members alike. However, his looks were just a bonus in the package. What really attracted me to him was his wisdom and strength of character, and the fact that he wooed my mom and daughter first before me.

After more than five years we’re still somewhere between just dating and being an item. While it can be frustrating, it can also be quite refreshing – like we’re eternally in the wooing part of a relationship. We have already discussed our hopes and dreams; and yet the most we have come to physical intimacy would be tender kisses. It’s a comfortable relationship that even transcends geography, with no one pressuring the other for sex to prove themselves.

This latest relationship of mine proves that sex is not a requirement for true love to happen. Yes, sex could be fun, exhilarating, and a great exercise (almost like running non-stop for a mile). However, it has become too overrated. Trust me: been there, done that. Case in point: my “loving” ex-husband. Great as a lover, sucks as a husband and father. I still have the emotional scars to show for it.

A book that would strengthen my assertion would be the Xlibris release entitled, Reborn Virgin Women: If You Wanna be Happy, Keep Your Pants Zipped by Catherine Anne Lewis which stresses that a relationship not based on sex is a longer-lasting one. Reborn Virgin Women further notes that many dating couples give in to the “urge” by the third date, thereby trampling any chance of them establishing a stronger relationship based on emotional, mental, and even spiritual compatibility.

What blew me away was the pepper-upper provided by the book that even if a woman has already lost her virginity, she can easily reclaim it by “eliminating sex from the dating equation.” Ergo, the term, “reborn virgin.”

Sooo…instead of calling myself an advocate of celibacy (proudly celibate for almost six years now), I can now call myself a “reborn virgin!”

Okay, I kinda hear someone guffawing in the background.

I mean honestly, I myself once fell victim to the notion that sex is a requirement for true love. (Blame it on youth and hormones.) Now that maturity has set in, I see that the adage, “True love waits” is true – in every sense of the word.

So, here’s my personal take: keep your clothes on and find true love. Take it from someone who has learned it the hard way.

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I have been living in a household with three generations of women since 1996, and I represent the middle generation.

My mother is now in her mid-70s, and yet she has the feistiness of a middle-aged woman. Despite her petite and hunched frame she still manages to muster the energy to get things done around the house. I warn her about straining herself too much, but she insists on doing things her way. Thus, I leave her to her chores, then at the end of the day we sometimes just have to bear her rants and complaints about aching joints and muscles. If I start with an "I told you so" phrase she'd bark at me like there was no tomorrow. Yes, she can sometimes be hard to deal with, but that's my mom.

As a kid, I wondered why my father would only come to visit us every other day. I thought this was a normal thing with fathers until I grew older and eventually realized that this was no ordinary setup. I never asked details about this, probably because I avoided getting a confirmation of my worst fears. The truth about my mom's relationship with my father came quite late in my life already. I was told about it at age 18, and for a time I hated my parents so much it affected my grades in school. However, reason soon set in and I grudgingly accepted the fact that I was an illegitimate child. By the time I graduated from college and got a job in media, visits from my dad got rarer and rarer until he never visited again.

Thus, for 26 years it was primarily my mom and me against the world. That is, until I got into a relationship myself and had a child of my own. My daughter was a year old when her father and I decided to get married. However, the curse my mom suffered also bore down on me, and I found myself getting a divorce from the father of my baby girl.

My daughter is an 11-year old pre-teen already, and she's growing up quite well without a father figure. In fact, the only male in our household right now is the family cat, and he seems to be repulsed by the scent of male hormones that would permeate our place whenever we have friends or relatives of the opposite sex around.

We never chose to have this kind of household setup. Or maybe we did -- unconsciously. Nonetheless, we have survived many house mishaps as a team. We learned to replace lightbulbs, fix the plumbing, rewire computer peripherals, nail down rattling windows, and do other "manly" jobs on our own. In fact, we have the Xlibris book, Built It like a Pro, to help us out with our work. The nice thing about this book is that it is written by a man for a female audience.

Take note: we do not deter men. We are just proud to say that we can actually survive without them. That is, except for our cat. He's our mascot. Touch a single hair on his scaredy-cat body and you'll be getting the worst scratching from three generations of strong-willed women.

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A former student of mine called recently to say hello. He said he's already into writing his thesis, and will be graduating very soon from the university I used to teach in. He added that he's disappointed with my departure from the university, considering that I was one of his "best" teachers.

Whew, that really made my day. I've been out of the academe for quite some time now, and yet my essence still hasn't left the university. I still get calls from former students like the thesis-writer who thank me for a job well-done. I must have done something right.

I have truly come to understand and appreciate the nobility of the teaching profession, especially after one particular incident. I was in media prior to my stint in the academe, and one time my former media colleagues and I had a reunion of sorts. All of them came to the venue in cars, while I had to hitch a ride with one of them. Just when the party was in full swing, one of them commented, "You know, you're one big fool. Imagine: if you stayed with us in media, your own car would be parked alongside ours. You'd always have money in your pocket. But you just had to go to the academe -- and how much are you being paid there?" Enraged, I retorted, "I may not have as much money in my pocket as you guys, but remember this: you people wouldn't be the professionals you are today if it wasn't for people like me!"  

The rewards of being an educator, after all, cannot be measured by how much money one has in his/her pocket. In fact, a teacher who is true to his/her calling only has a take-home salary just enough for a decent subsistence. Also, compared to others, the teaching profession is a 24-hour job. Classroom work is but a mere fraction of what a teacher does. Spare time is spent studying and preparing for the next lectures, checking papers, researching to hone one's skills and to add to one's knowledge, and maintaining an interpersonal relationship with students that borders on becoming a surrogate parent.

Notwithstanding all the pitfalls that come with being an academician, seeing that "eureka" expression in my students' faces after explaining lessons of the day is worth all the riches in the world. Teaching even becomes more fulfilling when a student names me as his/her mentor after garnering an accolade. Now, this is something my former media colleague will never be able to equate -- not even with 10 cars and money in a Swiss bank.

In my four-year term in the university, I would tell my classes at the start of every semester that lessons in my class are not limited to the four walls of a classroom. This is where I introduce the concept of critical thinking that allows my students to have a better understanding of the world through intensified use of their five senses (and even their sixth -- if they have one) and a thorough analysis of things they have observed in their environment. I also taught them about the higher value of a question as opposed to an answer. Questions have to be well-formulated to elicit significant answers. On the other hand, stupid questions also merit stupid answers. With constant injections of these two paradigms all throughout classes, I would finish every semester with my students armed with tools not just to guide them through the rest of their respective courses but also through the rest of their lives.

Several people from the academe also share my passion for teaching, and even wrote books about it. Take, for example, Dina Nwaokai-Beecham whose memoirs of the children who entered and left her classroom are lovingly retold in the book, A Teacher has Something to Say: Regaining Universal Love for Children. Another proud academician is Phyllis Tanner who wondered: "There are books on how to do just about everything...(but) there are no books on how to teach -- at least, not to my knowledge." This is what led her to pen A Teacher's Manual: Education for Smarties. Both books are available through the Xlibris online bookstore, as well as in Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Borders.

My former students -- including the thesis-writer -- may soon forget my name, but they will forever bring with them lessons I taught them in and out of the classroom. I am also happy that as my former students turn into the greatest minds this country has ever produced, I know that at one point in their lives, I was a contributor to their success.

Intangible as it may seem, this is the beauty of teaching.

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It was back in 1994 when I became part of an international team of media people who covered the 50th anniversary of Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s landing in the coastal town of Palo in Leyte — a province of the Republic of the Philippines. It must be recalled that on October 20, 1944, Gen. MacArthur returned to the Philippines through Palo, pushing back Japanese troops that were stationed there, and eventually bringing back the upper hand of World War II into the hands of the Allied Forces in the Pacific. Filipinos and Americans alike will always remember this great American for his moving statement prior to his initial departure from the Philippines: “I shall return.” And return, he did.


One part of the anniversary celebration involved a reenactment of the historic alighting of Gen. MacArthur and his men on the shores of Palo. Just like the real McCoy, the actor playing Gen. MacArthur valiantly led his men to the beach. Unfortunately, this guy apparently couldn’t get a good foothold and kept sliding and tripping into the water, inadvertently making a joke of the entire reenactment.


That poor guy who portrayed Gen. MacArthur may never make it to Hollywood, but that scene with him tripping not just once but twice face-down into the water made it even to CNN — and all those other video blooper shows. What a way to start one’s career in showbiz.


But there was a group of people who weren’t laughing: the locals of Leyte themselves. It was explained later to me by a Filipino friend — a Leyteño — that the beach of Palo is no longer what it was during Gen. MacArthur’s time. He explained that the stretch of beach in Palo and nearby towns is getting narrower. In fact, the entire east side of the province which faces open sea is slowly being eaten away by the Pacific. In 1944, the shoreline was much farther off and the undertow was at a minimum, which was why Gen. MacArthur and his men were able to land in Leyte without a hitch. This is not so with the hapless actor in the reenactment faux pas. A walk from water to dry sand is now done on uneven land, with a strong undertow that could sweep a person off his feet.


Imagine that: only 50 years have passed and yet the terrain of this island has dramatically changed . I could only make an assumption that by the third millennium several towns on the east side of Leyte will already be submerged in the Pacific Ocean. Better start selling your lands — you people over there — before they go under.


This occurrence in the Philippines is not an isolated case. Other islands — some, whole countries — dotting the Pacific region are also in danger of sinking. There is Tuvalu, a Polynesian island-nation located midway between Hawaii and Australia. Another is Tegua Island in Vanuatu, another archipelago found east of Australia. (Thanks to Wikipedia for the information.) The blame for this potential land wipeout is now being placed on the rise in sea level brought about by the controversial phenomenon known as global warming. Environmentalists and scientists are very well aware of the worldwide effects of global warming, and many recent natural disasters are seen to be the result of this.


With many apologies to these learned people I mentioned earlier, I will try to explain global warming in the simplest terms. Our planet is blanketed by the atmosphere to keep much of outer space debris out and to keep the air we breathe in. This blanket also regulates the temperature of the Earth, making it inhabitable. This is what is called the Greenhouse Effect. Unfortunately, due to many pollutants — or what is now called, greenhouse gases — mixing with the gas-filled atmosphere, a rise in climactic temperature results. This leads to two things: more extensive evaporation of the world’s seas, and the slow but steady melting of the polar ice caps.


I am just going to give several effects of global warming to conclude my scientific mumbo-jumbo: increased severity in weather disturbances, changes in volume of precipitation, depletion of the polar region’s terrain and the eventual loss of habitat of some of our unique wildlife (Remember “Happy Feet”), and the rise in sea levels — among others. This rise in sea levels is one of the major factors seen to affect islands like the Philippines, Tuvalu, Vanuatu, and other little-known islands in the Pacific.


The question is: with all these strange phenomena happening in our own backyards, are we capable of surviving it?


The book, The Earth Change Survival Guide by David Hamilton gives us an idea on how to manage in these times when global warming has changed the way we live. It is quite comprehensive, with advice on how to prepare oneself, not only physically but also mentally and spiritually, for the so-called “inevitable.” It may be purchased through the Xlibris online bookstore or through your favorite online book retailer.


At this stage, many people have become aware of the dire consequences of global warming on our planet. If nothing is done to stop this phenomenon from happening then we are so doomed to die of our own callousness. Thus, I join the many other enlightened people who have taken up the cudgels for saving the environment. This may be our last chance.

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Now that I got your attention...

Seriously, I'm not really sure if the Pillsbury Doughboy is gay or not. He's probably just as gay as Winnie the Pooh or Ernie and Bert -- with apologies to the beloved characters of our childhood.

However, several overactive minds out there do notice some subtle nuances in many things they see in media. Not even our cartoon characters and muppets are spared.

Take for example Winnie the Pooh. Who would have known that A. A. Milne's popular teddy bear would be seen as having homosexual inclinations just for having no underwear?

Underwear seems to be a strong denominator in determining one's sexual preference. If Winnie the Pooh is "gay" because he has no underwear, how come Superman is also considered as a gay icon, considering that he wears his bright red briefs over his tights? Is it because of the red color? Is it because of the hint of a protuberance over the front of the briefs? (Aw c'mon, don't tell me you guys haven't noticed it...) Is it the nice buns? (Don't tell me you haven't noticed those either...) Or is it the cowlick on his forehead? Wait a minute, detached argument: we're still discussing underwear here.

Poor Donald Duck has also been accused not only of being homosexual but also of being perverted, simply because of the lack of trousers. While he fails to wear undies, he is often depicted as wrapping a towel around himself whenever he prepares for a bath. It must also be noted that in Donald's circle of friends (Mickey Mouse and Goofy), it is only he who dares to bare it all down below. This conflicting depiction of decency creates the confusion as to this hypertensive duck's real sexual nature. And Daisy Duck is of no help, either.

Clothing -- and the lack of it -- obviously becomes a strong indicator of homosexuality. However, one cannot explain why one character would be tagged as having gay undertones while another -- sans clothing -- would not elicit the same perception. Donald Duck is said to be a gay and perverse due to the lack of clothing to hide his tush, but his Looney Tunes counterpart, Daffy Duck, is spared from these notorious tags. And to think that all Daffy has to cover himself with is his white neckband. How dethpicable...*thpit, thpit*

Even two grown men living together under one roof are seen by society as gay. Such is the case between Ernie and Bert who, as several people with lots of time on their hands observed, are also considered to have a homosexual relationship. Questions arise with regard to Bert's concern over Ernie's bathing methods ("Have you cleaned behind your ears?"), as well as their penchant for keeping an immaculately clean domicile. The mere fact that they live together and even share a room (but with separate beds) is seen as homosexual in nature. According to Wikipedia, this rumored gay relationship has sparked controversies that shook the creators of Sesame Street, so much that they even had to come out with press statements all attesting to their assertion that Ernie and Bert are not gay.

For some strange reason, many of Jim Henson's wonderful Sesame Street characters have apparently fallen prey to "gay" musings -- and more. Here are just some of the mind-boggling insinuations:

* Grover and Elmo are both gay, owing to their gravelly high-pitched voices and overly-cheerful dispositions.

* Big Bird is a bisexual. This oversized canary (Wikipedia states that Big Bird is more of a condor than a canary, though.) has been referred to as a "he," but it was noted that in some Sesame Street episodes, he was seen sitting on eggs in his nest. Thus, the bisexual rumors linger. There was also talk about a relationship between Big Bird and Mr. Snuffleupagus.

* Kermit the Frog is a pervert -- not just because of his usual one-piece attire (that green frill on his neck) that leaves nothing to the imagination, but also because of his on-and-off relationship with the voluptuous Miss Piggy. Imagine an inter-specie relationship that to some quarters is tantamount to bestiality. In other words, it's like a human dating a crocodile.

Homosexual innuendoes such as these are rife, especially in advertisements we see on print. However, I leave it to the Xlibris book, A Hint of Homosexuality? 'Gay' and Homoerotic Imagery in American Print Advertising to give the nitty-gritty on this issue. The mere fact that this was written by Bruce Joffe, a noted academician in the field of gay and lesbian studies, makes this an engaging and enlightening read. I truly enjoyed the fact that it contains the actual samples of the print ads in question. If you think that Winnie the Pooh's gay leanings is enough to make you fall off your seat, then wait till you read this book. You might even start to believe that the Marlboro Man (bless his soul) is also gay.

But actually, I don't care much if these animated characters, puppets, and advertisements have homosexual inclinations. For as long as they serve their intended purpose, then that's perfectly fine with me. As far as I'm concerned, the Sesame Street, Disney, Looney Tunes, DC/Marvel Comics characters that we have grown to love will never lose their charm -- gay or not.

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Ouch, I was hit -- and you can be hit, too.

No, I'm not expounding on violence, nor am I extolling the virtues of S & M.

Actually, this is about something I read recently -- a funny book entitled, 101 Ways to Make Things Worse: and even more Ways to Make Them Better. (Kah-kah...lost my breath from reading the title alone.) It's an Xlibris book written by Drew Cangelosi, Ph.D that discusses...well...the 101 ways to make things worse. (Isn't it obvious?)

In a way, the book shows a twisted yet funny way on how mere mortals like us can take such a profound thing such as life and whack it like there's no tomorrow. It ends on an optimistic note, though: that we still have a chance at making our lives better. I tell you: this is one self-help book with fangs.

Some of the items in the book did catch my attention for any of the three reasons: first, I'm not too sold on the idea; second, they hit me right smack at the gut so hard that i think my spleen blew up; and third, i just thought they were funny/absurd/stupid. Here are just some of the them:

Focus all your attention on it. Heeeeyyyy.....What's so wrong about focusing attention on one thing? I find it an advantage to be focused. Although for multi-taskers, focus can be quite a problem. Or maybe this is just geared toward those multi-taskers who do a zillion things at the same time -- eventually spreading  themselves too thinly. Ok, wait: let me focus...

Stop breathing. Asthmatics, beware!

Imagine the worst. Murphy's Law states that if something bad is going to happen it most probably will. Pessimism is good. It allows me to be happy if something bad DID NOT happen. Got the line of reasoning?

Become immobile (stay in your room). This may probably be bad if this is what one does for the most of his/her productive life. But being immobile once in a while does have its virtues. It's calming, for one.

Don’t eat. I will definitely NOT promote this. It's a travesty to do this -- that is, unless you're Kate Moss or some other supermodel/supermodel wannabe.

Realize you don’t deserve better. Ah, but I knew I deserved better. That's why I divorced my husband.

Run away. Ouch, ouch, and OUCH. To me, this is also read as "chicken out." It seems easier to do this than to face it squarely.

Stay uninformed. This is good if you plan to live like some hermit in a cave.

Stuff your face. Now, wait a freaking minute! First I was told not to eat. Now I'm being told to stuff my face. Ack...I think I'm developing indigestion.

Tell yourself it will last forever. Once again, I refer you to above item that states, "Realize you don't deserve better."

Tell yourself it doesn’t exist. Bad advice for X-files fans.

Hope it goes away. Not even pus on a pimple will just go away unless you deal with it.

Wait for divine intervention. Tell this to my mom, as well as to other religious fanatics out there.

Play “what if” or “yes but”. But it's a nice game! I call it Devil's Advocate -- although at the end of this game people start wondering whether I'm the devil or just the advocate...

Call the psychic hot line. BWAHAHAHA! Sorry, but I'm not that desperate. Teehee...*guffaw*

Be impatient. Yeah, I know. Patience is a virtue. But it's also a waste of precious time.

When you come to a fork in the road, take it. Uh...I don't get it. Should I take a spoon, instead?

Promise yourself it will never happen again. Once again, let me bring up Murphy's Law and cite one of its facets that states, "If something bad in the past happened, trust me: IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN."

 Ask “Why?” Why not?

Believe it’s all in your head. Another piece of bad advice for X-files fans.

See things in black or white. Good if you're a dog. Or color blind.

Go shopping. What's so wrong about shopping? I find it to be a major stress reliever. That is, unless I've gone way beyond my credit limit...

The book didn't mention any item that states, "Bitch all you want." Thus, I'm in the green...

101 Ways to Make Things Worse... is quite a book: engaging, sarcastic, humbling, in-your-face, and fun. It's worth curling up to after a depressing day at work, or after a tiff with the spouse -- whichever comes first. It's also worth reading on a full stomach -- not a stuffed face.

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