On early morning Friday, I was naked. How it all happened, I am about to narrate now. No, I did not suddenly become a pervert and enrolled in a shirtless and pantless club, like they have in the states. But it was one morning—about nine o’ clock in the morning approximately—when the main street just beyond our northern fence was still silent from occasional passersby and the vehicles that used to pass there were still intermittent. And so there was a general silencing of the air around our vicinity, so heavy like a spread-out giant cloth shrouding the whole area.

My body felt so warm all over that morning—too warm in fact that bristles of sweat appeared on my skin like a constant rain from the sky. I then desired water immediately, fresh and cool water that would be poured all over me. I imagine the Niagara Falls and I wanted to dive in it, like a thirsty fish into the water.

I grabbed a towel hanging from a nail hammered into a wall near the kitchen and went straight into the bathroom. I took off my clothes and opened the faucets. The water gushed in and my mind was cooled after hearing the sound of the rushing water. But my body was yet to follow. I went to scour for the usual soap and shampoo to be applied on my tempering body but alas I found nothing there. I opened the bathroom’s door once again and immediately climbed the stairs towards the bedroom on the second floor; to look for a fresh new pack of soap. On the corner of the room were groceries that were yet unpacked from the plastic bags that usually carry them and I unearthed a new pack of soap from it. I have always adored the smell of brand new soaps that are newly-opened from their nifty carton box containers, their fragrance so fresh and virginal, like a wildflower in the jungle. And their contour feels so smooth and silky in the hands.

I traveled the stairs downward towards the gushing water that had awaited me and I suddenly realized that I forgot to put on the towel back on my waist when I left the bathroom. I was actually naked navigating the distance from the bathroom towards the bedroom upstairs. Good thing I was alone at home at that time, or almost alone because my two younger kids were watching cartoon shows on the living room just a few steps away and if they had noticed me, they would have surely teased me and mocked me to no end, for being a pantless and shirtless dad at home. Luckily a dividing wall left me unnoticed from there. But what if the maids had suddenly blurted in ( as they were outside at that time doing chores I am not particular of at that time) and see the compromising situation I had then or if some passersby would suddenly gave a very keen gaze towards our house, looking through jalousies and from glass walls in the northern segment. Those glass walls are not too dependable as cover from outside views, that if the cortinas weren’t as neatly placed that particular morning, anyone could have easily notice a grownup guy navigating the stairs naked, with no covering whatsoever on his. But luckily, population on the streets just outside us wasn’t yet as abundant (as what could be often when afternoon comes) that I got away being naked on open spaces and not being stared at. You know what people think of grown up men being naked while not alone, or not in a private situation like in a bedroom or the bathroom. They would surely have some strange ideas about me.

I finally poured water on my head and down towards my whole body, to quell the steady heat that had affected me that one Friday morning. While I was feeling the water enveloping me that moment, I was thinking a little deeply, when I was supposedly be humming or even vocalizing a Sinatra tune, as I am wont to do sometimes when I am in the bathroom.

I was thinking that it wasn’t really usual for me to be suddenly absentminded and be ever naked in opener spaces, walking upstairs and not be so aware of my nakedness. I just forgot that I had no shirt or pants on—for this one time only. And that was enough for me to deliberate this unusual situation. I’ve never been naked before except in the bathroom or in the bedroom. Perhaps when I was so little, I would have been naked, walking around the house and not be mindful about it. But as a grownup, I never was. Until that Friday morning.

We are well aware that crazy people—or some crazy people—goes naked even in the streets and not be so mindful about it. I became worried a little for thinking about this between nakedness and insanity. I just have to reassure myself that for certain, I could not be crazy as that.

Aside from insanity, what came to my mind at that time were the idea of Adam and Eve and the fact of sin, or of original sin. Maybe Adam was comfortably numb about his nakedness when he and Eve were still legitimately habituating the Garden of Eden, unperturbed by observers and onlookers. Perhaps nakedness could be summed up by sinlessness that before that momentous moment when Eve had grabbed that sinful apple, sin was still inexistent and nakedness is not an issue yet. But when finally Adam (and Eve) had bitten a chockfull of that silly apple, sin finally became a first time incident, and nakedness became finally shameful and Adam had to cover himself for fear of being seen naked and unrobed, outside the Garden of Eden. Whereas before, he wasn’t perturbed by such nakedness.

Did I felt sinless? Did I feel sinless that Friday morning that I was mindless and somehow feeling comfortable with myself while being naked like Adam was in the Garden of Eden? Oh, I’d really like to think that way. We all want to be sinless and of without fault, don’t we all?

But sadly, the reality is I am of sin—many of them in fact—and in matters of fault, I have scores of them. Therefore I am or was unlike Adam in the Garden of Eden, being naked and loving it.

I was just a little absent-minded that warm and humid Friday morning that I became naked for some moments…when I should not have been.

I have always been a Yahoo! person since I remained an Internet Explorer user despite the spread of opinions against it, and in favor of revolutionary browsers such as Mozilla Firefox (most especially) and Opera and you know whenever one opens up a an IE browser, 90% of the time Yahoo! explodes into your screen as a homepage/search site.

But one time I took fancy of making Google as my homepage for my browser at home and put on with it, using it as my default search engine and true to form and exact to what many say about it, it is not only fast-loading but searches are done in a much quicker way. I know you might interrogate me for this and quip, “Why didn’t you know about that? It had been like that ever since—Mozilla as the faster search engine?”. Somehow I knew about this fact already but I have not gotten to comparing—whether Yahoo! is much better than Google—a search is a search and I wanted to do it on my own accord, and not for anyone else to tell me what or how I am going to be searching and what I am about to search. My way or the highway.

But slower Internet connection at home now comes as a factor and you could say that I should hitting myself on the head for sentimentally sticking to Yahoo! despite that sometimes, it takes a lifetime to appear on the screen in full; what with all those heavy animated or moving advertisements that it has now almost all the time.

So now, Google is the default search engine on my home computer.

I then farther inquired on what Google could offer me especially I noticed (and why I got discourage in using it previously) that whenever the homepage comes on, one could see almost nothing; no news or info like Yahoo! does and I am a news kind of guy. Half the time, I logged to the net to scour for news and information. I am so used at opening the browser and immediately what comes on are news and information like what the Yahoo! homepage has. But it is not the case with Google.

So I delved farther into Google’s cache of services (as we all know that it got lots and lots of them) and went into the Google News page. I was a bit mesmerized when I opened such page, noticing immediately the voluminous amount of news titles included in it, from top to bottom, and guess what?—no advertisements with animated fishes ogling in front of you, swimming to and fro and huge American cars changing colors or sizes, making loading more difficult. I am not really against adds on web pages, we all got to make some dough one way or the other, but sometimes Yahoo! has become more of an advertisement page rather than a search engine. Adverts first, and then search later. Sounds like fly now and pay later. Only a rawer deal.

Google News is actually a news aggregator that looks like a news site. It is highly automated with minimal human intervention in collating the news. It headlines most recent as it comes and most important articles bannered (in accordance with an installed automated system). For a news guy like me, this is just what I wanted and I am thankful that I have gotten to this site through my tinkering. On Yahoo!, the news comes in trickle and feels like it becomes too compartmentalized with news over Iraq and Capitol Hill given most importance and headlined almost all the time.

If one might ask, “Is there a website out there that in one click, you can have all the news that you wanted?”. Of course there is no such thing but Google News comes close, too close I feel. Only problem is that it doesn’t include local Philippine news which I also dig all the time. I don’t know if by “personalizing it” (Yes, just like MyYahoo!, you can adjust it’s content and looks), local news would be headlined among the extensive global news from all corners of the world.

Right now, I am still of double-mind if I would go farther and make Google News my default homepage, having a gregarious amount of news whenever I click on the IE icon on my desktop, just like in my wet dreams my thoughts—a site full of news in just one click of the button.

Why don’t you try it and see if you want also to make it as your regular news site or even the default homepage/search engine. You can have the option of searching merely the news aggregate or the entire web for that matter. Google News collates from almost 5,000 news sources and includes search for news archives (you might want to search for the old news in your mind) and it also has a portion for “Blog Search”. That shows how Google have so much respect for humble and lowly bloggers like us. Maybe, it’s time to pay back the respect.

I was scouring the net for some information and this one current news had just caught my fancy. In an area within the state of New Mexico in America, a sizable number of people gathered there to mark the 60th anniversary of the event that is so-called as “The Roswell Incident” . It must be known that sometime early in July of the year 1947, an individual named Mack Brazel went out to check on his ranch, monitoring the situation of the sheep he was herding at that time, especially after storms have spread toward that particular part of the area. In a while, after reconnoitering thoroughly though his ranch, he found metal apparatus that according to him, he had never seen before and one he describes to be not-of-this-world, whose solidity and strength was remarkably beyond what could be produced here.

The tale about that particular incident easily had spread throughout Roswell and a week after, the local daily headlined that an alien ship had been found in Roswell—and then everything from that day became now part of history—global history even— and became well-known all over as “The Roswell Incident” (see this wikipedia article).

Now, there is this saying which held that if one would keep on saying that “I am a God” over and over again, sooner or later, someone will finally believe that, and then more and more would follow suit. This is actually what happened to the incident in Roswell after that fateful day in July of 1947, when the buzz of alien ship and alien capture was so insisting that the story had become so widespread that even to this day, it had become romanticized in many pop-culture endeavors. In the 1990’s, Hollywood had made a very famous TV series out of it.

And this goes true to alien beliefs and alien sightings. To this day, no one has ever proven hypothetically the fact of alien lifeform, in concrete and material means. Yet, the presentiment about aliens intruding into earth’s space keep on occuring, time and time again, that in a while, we could not help but keep a closer eye on it and examine it’s veracity.

Like ghost stories and the fact of ghosts by themeselves, tales about alien sightings had become such a very general notion among the population everywhere around the world; that storytellers and raconteurs from all corners of the world keep on relaying them even if they are that hard to believe. The nature of ghosts and spirits had become so inculcated into the human psyche that somehow, we could not help but affirm their factual existence, one way or another. And even if often we are inclined to disregard them, we as consumers of such stories longed for it, we pay hard-earned money to watch ghosts or spirit movies, just because we enjoy such form of narrations or exhibitions, and therefore we like to believe in them and make them all come true.

At night, when the kids become too unruly, we say sometimes that the ghosts is somewhere in our vicinity that they better be at home and sleep so early…or else. Or else the ghost would be coming after them. And such scheme actually work.

Aliens stories are like ghosts stories. We kept on telling about them even if we haven’t seen any of them and even if we do not actually believe in them.

I have read in this Philippine government forum that the probability of aliens occurring has about (1x10^-58)^2 = 1x10^-116 chances of occurring. Sadly I could not actually comprehend such statistical probability but they say at that amount, it is nearly nil.

And then another forum commenter said that it would be of such “arrogance” for any human being to believe that we are the only intelligent lifeform existing in this universe, considering the vastness of the universe. And to me it does make sense. The universe is so wide beyond human comprehension that it wouldn’t be too surprising to realize that in fact, “they are out there” and probably “had been here’ once or twice on earth; just came visiting as one would say. They could be out there. And possibly, they could have been here.

For alien thoughts, many belief that the Nazca lines in Peru could have only been conceived by some alien lifeform since in ancient times, human beings could not be as intelligent and as complicated to be able to do such gigantic images. Unless overhead telescopes—or some form of top camera—had already been invented by that time in order to be able to calculate and execute the gigantic drawings. Even the pyramids, with all the mathematical exactions it had, are sometimes believed to have been of alien creation or inspiration, where in an ancient time humans minds were supposedly still unripe and uncomplicated.

So, do you believe in aliens? If you ask me, pointing to the “arrogance” theory, I may say that in this vast universe, as ever expanding and as ever mythical it is, I could probably be inclined towards believing that aliens do actually exist.

I remember some years ago that once that I was watching this cable television special (on Star World channel, I believe) where it was shown a collection of various videos exhibiting aliens caught on camera. There was one video there (despite that the others were clearly faked and doubtful) that really had amazed me. This particular video had shown how a white luminescent being with nearly human form (but with an unusually square-shaped face was somehow held off by a number of individuals clad in medical robes and the supposedly hidden camera was somewhere from above. I saw that the white human-like figure had got his hands tied behind his back, and then brought face down to a rectangular table, and he exerted to lift his head and his face was facing the camera, as if he knew where the camera was, and then he was coughing and coughing to no end. And he was looking at the camera so hard that I felt he was really looking at me, his face moving as if diagonally–to and fro—pleading and trying to communicate, trying to really imply some idea to me. It felt so eerily strange watching that video.

I then had a thought that if some naughty individuals had intended to manufacture this video of a luminescent human-like being—just in order to fool viewers—how come he or she could be so inventive to ever thought of having a coughing fake alien being dragged by individuals clad on medical robes into a hard metal table? Have you ever thought of a coughing alien? Coughing and heaving from seemingly lack of oxygen?

I thought the video images might really have been caught as it was happening and that it could possibly be the only video of a real alien. And that perhaps aliens would somehow coughed and should be heaving for air since the Earth’s atmosphere might not be too tolerable for them.

It just amazes me, these alien stories. How about you? Do you believe in aliens?

Tonight I felt very tired. My body is in a state of general malaise. Maybe I was exerting too much effort in the past days—driving the kids to and fro from school and then blogging vehemently when nighttime falls, staying so late in the process, and then attending to other family concerns. Yesterday, an uncle died and I was in the funeral along with my mom. The weather was scorching at that time and so while we laid our uncle to the ground–to where he would be bound—I was sweating profusely that a cousin could not help but notice how sweat had embodied me so well that afternoon. May his (my uncle’s) soul rest in eternal peace.

So instead of watching television till past midnight tonight, I just put on some music and tried to relax. I put on Sting’s The Soul Cages and felt so relaxed and my mood was efficiently smoothened by the sublimity of the music, especially the melancholy of this particular record—allegedly made as a requiem for his dead father and judging from all The Police and Sting records I have acquired over the years, it is to me the best ever recording made by Sting; either as a member of a band or as a solo artist; and could be one of rock music’s all-time best.

In one song (When The Angels Fall), Sting was singing about dreams that he said “perhaps the dream was dreaming us”. I was wondering if actually a dream could ever dream by its own–dreaming a dream while it is a dream in the first place. Could that be possible and logical? Does it make sense at all? Yet I know that in lyrical songwriting and as well as in poetry, there is no rule to language, there is no restriction to language or composition. One poet or songwriter can say what he want and write what he intends. He could even say, “perhaps the dream was dreaming us” and no one could complain and say that it is of no cause or propriety. That’s why every poet is a free spirit and this is possibly be the freedom of language that we wish to be similar with human conduct; freedom from limitations and from every inhibitions.

I am a guy who always dream of dreams. Some of them I have narrated here—quite starkly. Some believe that dreams foretell of the future. Some said they explain what had happened in the past. But there is just no telling.

I do believe in dreams. In dreams, we live another life, living within another elemental existence and despite the complications and surrealism they present, dreams could mean so much to us. It is a manner of communicating into our inner self, and even towards another level or dimension of existence. Dreams alone are supernatural by themselves. To this day, not even the brightest scientist could explain fully the nature of dreams and what they all mean to us. But we—as ordinary individuals—know that they do happen and occur, and recognizes it’s existence as a way of life.

In dreams, we are introduced to another form of existence and another world and in dreams we become not merely ordinary occurrences but also supernatural beings. And therefore dreams are so significant to our lives that Sting should be excused and was probably right when he wrote that “perhaps the dream was dreaming us”.

So dream a little and do not complain.

This is one most recent Wordpress theme release from Christopher Frazier of Glued Ideas and I find it so alarmingly admirable that I could not help but blog about it. It is called simply as Subtle. This design is probably so high on my list of fine-looking Wordpress themes—and it is actually too gorgeous to be merely referred to as fine-looking. Blogging Pro simply describe it as beautiful and one theme that “makes authors look good”.

It’s general look approximates what the latest trend in web design demands and it is so inculcated in it the main characteristic of Web 2.0—big candy-colored fonts, elegantly shaded backgrounds and is fully-widgetted.

This design probably wasn’t intended for public released when it was created by its designer and would have been one of those included in sites that collect great CSS designs like CSS Remix and CSS Beauty and copyrighted and not available for reproduction. But surprisingly so, it is made publicly available.

Mickeymotoc of Stepping On Poop had most recently suited-up this Subtle theme for his site and it looks so fine on him. It shows how this template could easily be customizable.

See here the demo site.

Download the Zip files here.

I’d be porting the Blogsome codes for Subtle a bit later on.

After the Hardy Boys, Carlos The Jackal is the first character that I have met and become so familiar with in the book world. I am not so sure now if I met him first at Frederick Forsythe’s nuclear bomb thriller “The Fourth Protocol” or in the assassination plot “The Day Of The Jackal”. Of course, we’ve got to put exception to Snow White and Cinderella since you know, they are purely kidstuff.

Carlos The Jackal is one cunning hitman that goes with ultimately sneaky disguises that myths have gone on to tell how once he had put up a female persona and was so good at it that some men actually fell in love with him.

His person is merely fictional at most—that’s the general drift. Yet there were incessant murmurs in the international police world—most especially now that we are within the encompassing grasp of the World Wide Web—that Carlos is in fact not merely a fictional character overused and milked-out by several American thriller-meister out to make good bucks writing convincing political-thriller plots—such as Mr. Forsythe and Mr. Robert Ludlum—but is and was in fact based on a real person. Some say he was a Brazilian and had lived towards the 80’s and looked as handsome as Marlon Brando. While some others say he was actually of Italian descent. But one general acceptation about him is that he was of Caucasian built and of latin roots; thus the Spanish-sounding moniker.

His myth had become so persevering that towards this day, literature and Hollywood continue to immortalize him; like in the movie simply titled “The Jackal” and that one where Val Kilmer (The Saint) had tried so vainly to put up disguises that weren’t disguises at all (because the wigs he wore were so fake that in every pony face he had suited, even the blind could tell he was still Val Kilmer).

In the 70’s, a young Venezuelan named Ilich Ramírez Sánchez had among his belongings a copy of “The Day Of The Jackal” and when this was found by authorities, they began to designate a code-name for him, that of “The Jackal”, a title that had since became an international phenomena in the police world. Sanchez had been a known militant, long before the word “terrorist” had become so widespread. He is a mercenary. A true-blue international playboy. And he kills for money. It had reached the point where a question was raised of whether Sanchez was merely mimicking the fictional “Carlos” in Forsythe’s thrillers, or the fictional “Carlos” mimicking Ilich Ramirez Sanchez? Who’s personifying who?

BBC has an incisive story on him.

Such is the myth and legend of one known character in the fictional world. A very rare case where reality meets fiction and fiction enters the threshold of reality in the most palpable manner. There is nothing like this. One good recent example is the work “Primary Colors” where despite the repeated denial by “Mr. Anonymous” (later on to be revealed as Newsweek’s Joe Klein), the sharp and trendy presidential candidate in his book unmistakably resembles a real president of America—the one named Bill Clinton. One prime example of reality becomes fiction and fiction becomes reality.

Carlos The Jackal is one such memorable character for me. They say he was really a real person, and he was the Venezuelan Ilich Ramirez Sanchez. But I’d like to remember him as that persona written in Mr. Forsythe’s books. At least in the fictional world, he is not as insensitive and senseless, at least not in any way like the real person, who despite the nearly romantic legend, Sanchez had resolved to ultimately destructive violence and had clearly benefited financially from his “undertakings”—a bloody mercenary as an Englishman would say.

Now you might ask why I am writing about this mythical assassin from a time long gone. The person and idea of Carlos The Jackal had just suddenly came to my mind the moment I read this article about “hitman scams” going around emails with real and fearful threats used as money-baits. I hope you’d be aware of this and not be duped. Might as well read this CNN article and find out for yourself about the latest shenanigan happening in the cyberworld.