Archive for August, 2021

Chick Point


They don’t have to carry those arms

to disarm you.


Now this is one Indian from India

who does not look that mean.

Chinese Hiawatha

But with the eyes, Marian can be mistaken

for Hiawatha.


Women in some cold countries of the world

are not what you can say




Can’t figure out why they call her Pinky

when I have yet to see her in a pink dress.



This is the computer protection software

that has satisfied all of my security needs.

Plus it works silently, without the annoying pop-ups

and it does not impose its own controls

on what i do or prefer to do.

Like Google and Facebook.

And some particular web hosts that we know.

Prince Valiant

Prince Valiant.mp4

Prince Valiant.mpg







The National Guard holds conflict

with a US Military Academy.



Raise The Red Lantern

Big problem it is for the woman

if there are too many mistresses.

Raise the Red Lantern.mp4

Raise the Red Lantern.mpg

Arabian Nights

Arabian Nights.mp4

Arabian Nights.mpg


This is also another solution.



Silent Running

It may not be Artificial Intelligence

but it still is intelligence.

This is one solution.

Silent Running.mp4

Silent Running.mpg




Everly Brothers

Everly Brothers.mp4

Everly Brothers.mpg

Farewell My Concubine

Farewell My Concubine .mp4

Farewell My Concubine.mpg

Carlos The Jackal

Carlos the Jackal.mp4

Carlos the Jackal.mpg

Fear of the Needle

From the Home of the Brave

comes people who will fight battles

in all countries of the world,

fight wars with the rest of the world,

but who will shiver and shrink

when the battle is against a vaccine needle.

This fear is inherent among children.

In effect these brave people are acting like children.

And then fight vehemently

 against the poke of a needle.

It is time that they grow up.

But with those of religious beliefs,

trust in the Lord.

Fear no needle

His rod and his staff

will comfort you.

After all, these are much larger

than a needle.


Think of the alternatives….


Flying Leathernecks

Flying Leathernecks.mp4

Flying lkeathernecks.mpg

Adventures of Don Juan


Adv of Don Juan.mp4

Adv of Don Juan.mpg

The Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league

half a league onwards



Charge of the Light Brigade.mp4

Charge of the Light Brigade.mpg




Empire of the Sun

Empire of the Sun.mp4

Empire of the Sun.mpg

Red Blue; Red Blue



This is a story of a teen-age girl in the mountains of the Philippines.  She picks firewood to sell to the village people at the foot of the mountain. Today is Sunday, and Ap-palik is free to go down the mountain to watch the movies.

Red Blue, Red Blue

by Cool_Ambo

Ap-palik was never taught how to pray. She knows that there is a God. And it is always in a sitting position, very much similar to the position of her dead grandfather whose body was ceremoniously thrust inside a hole on the mountain even in a sitting position.

For her, the image of God resembles the crudely carved wooden idol which resides mutely at the bend of the trail, also in a sitting position.

As she turned to pay homage to this wooden idol, she once again imagined that this is a strong God because it is able to endure a chipped nose better than she can endure a toothache. Stronger is this God than the God of the lowland people, she thought, because this God is able to withstand the elements. If the lowland gods are really gods, why would they be kept secure inside and out of the rain?

She prayed by imitating the children of the school: genuflecting by knocking her forehead with the palm of her hand, beating her chest with the other, touching both shoulders with her fingers, and bumping her knee on the ground. With both hands stretched to the sky, she said, “Ap-palik is going down the mountain,” in a voice that sounded like a cross between a warning and a demand to the God of Travelers to grant her safe passage.

Glancing at the brother standing beside her, she thrust an upturned palm forward in the begging position and said, “WE are going down the mountain, God of Trees, please protect us as you would protect the gatherers of firewood!”

And then, with more exuberance than piety the third time around, she waved goodbye to her proud parents in the house on top of the hill, and proceeded to go down the trail chanting, “I am going to town.”

The moist earth was squishing through her bare toes when she stopped to shift her skirt so that the pocket swung to the front the way she does before she counts the money. The Catholic Convent gave this skirt to her mother, she remembered, and it was originally white.  Her mother is going to buy her a new dress when she gets married to one of her father’s army friends, but that would still be after the next firewood-gathering season. And shoes–it must be fun to wear shoes. Mother says it takes some getting used to. She does not have to wear them on the trail. She can take them off and carry them to make them last longer.

Her brother, Nonoy, was wearing her father’s old army sweater. Ap-palik was wearing her father’s worn-out camouflage army jacket. Father thinks of everything, she thought, as she looked at her wrist watch. He knows she can’t tell time so he painted the face of a clock on Nonoy’s forehead showing the positions of the hands to tell themselves the time when to start back home. The two got carried away, though, and painted dials all over their cheeks and arms and legs until both of them look like graffiti.

Ah, but her father loved the Army. Her name, Ap-palik, was taken from a favorite Army poem—The Charge of the Light Brigade. He taught her how to recite this poem from beginning to end.  And this she would recite while going down the mountain, with broken English and all.

“Ap-palik, ap-palik, ap-palik onward,
Into the valley of death
Rode the six hundred.
Forward the Light Brigade,
Charge for the guns, he said,
Not though the soldier knew,

…….not though the soldier..”

She wavered, and she tried again to find the next verse. Nonoy started a chorus with her, and all along the trail, the people that they met could have sworn that the two were reciting a litany to some unknown saint.

When at last they reached level ground, they headed straight for the candy store, buying all they could, including a huge bag of caramelized popcorn. People began to stare at their paint so they went at once to the theater, where the woman in the glass box ignored Ap-palik’s greeting. Who wouldn’t? Even when she smiled, she still looked like a woman on the warpath with all that paint on.

She liked cartoons. Even though the characters were not real people, they were what she wished people to be: simple and colorful and predictable, too.

They must have watched two shows twice. They left before the sad part. She always cried on those. They lingered in town for a while, munching on dried deer jerky which they tore with funny little angry bites. When the wrist watch showed a configuration exactly like that on Nonoy’s forehead they started home, taking the longest route towards the trail.

But then the lights started to come on! This was one thing they wanted to see—Christmas lights, colored lights, all on everybody’s window, flickering, and flashing, and giving color to the trees and the ground and the houses. They stopped at one particular house with bigger lights that dim and brighten slowly. They entered the yard and sat behind the hibiscus hedge, mesmerized by the lights. They called out together, red, blue, red, blue as the lights came on. Failing to recognize the colors green and yellow, they just skipped those, not knowing what to call them. Besides, they like red and blue best.

Pretty soon they fell asleep with their chanting, curled up in each other’s arms, all too happy to fantasize that they are actually living in a color cartoon.

Suddenly, they were awakened by shots and sirens, running feet and barking dogs. The colored lights were shut off. Men came running by away from something. People come chasing them. The two sprang up, but it was too dark to see anything. They came out of the hedge and walked away. The mud squished noisily. Headlights came on and blinded them. They started running away from the lights. A volley of shots were fired. Nonoy was hit and he fell down dead, still clutching Ap-palik’s hand. She tried to raise him but couldn’t. She turned to the lights in disbelief. A second volley was fired, and then a third. On both counts, she felt like two huge arms were pushing her back as the bullets hit. She staggered to maintain her balance in the mud, shifting her feet several times, but the fourth volley slammed her on her back. She tried to get up but her body does not respond. Instinctively, she lifted a hand towards Nonoy’s body. The hand fell limp. The pain went away slowly as numbness overcame her. She looked up for help, up to the flashing police lights, up to the blinking, mesmerizing red-blue police lights, and coughed her last.

Uniformed men milled around to view the bodies. One of them flipped Nonoy’s body over with a foot and said, “It must be a cult–it looks like a cult–yes, the six-o’clock cult.”

“For sure,” replied another. “You would never expect anything good to come out of this people,” pointing to Ap-palik’s body with the red oozing from the nose and through the teeth.

“She was saying something, no?”

“Yes, something like– redblueredblue!!!

EPITAPH:  Mountains don’t shed tears…….. they moan and they groan and they blow down branches of trees, a whole lot of branches of trees, for that time when Ap-palik comes to gather  firewood.

Epilogue :three days after her interment, and a full seven days after her death, the howling of the winds and the gnashing of the branches never stopped until the elders exhumed the bodies from the mountainside, cremated them,and scattered the ashes to the winds; after which a foreboding silence supplanted everybody’s business and in one awed gesture, all work stopped, as if to catch the faint squishing sounds of Ap-palik’s feet ascending the mountain.

As if on cue, all eyes look up to submit to the gods of the mountains, a new name to implore at firewood gathering time ; the name of AP-PALIK, henceforth the protector of brothers and innocents.

It is said, that while wise men and faithful women deserve the maw of the mountains, the virgins rightfully belong to the gods.



Now why would anybody hack this site if everything here is offered free?

And why then would I need an antivirus software?

I gave you a hint that the antivirus companies are getting into the act.

And if you have an antivirus software in your computer, good for you.

Just remember that getting rid of them would be fatal to your computer.

Those extensions remain and that would spell the death of your computer.

I will ell you how to get rid of these antivirus.

And I will also recommend the one that I used with satisfactory results.

And that info would be at the end of this month.

Meantime, you would like to know that my antivirus remarks

caused the biggest jump in the number of viewers to this site.