"Seven Days to Prepare, Two Hours to Panic."

 "Seven Days to Prepare, Two Hours to Panic."

by: 

Virgilio F. De Leon Jr., MD

I really cannot understand the Filipino last-minute mentality.

Every week, the information is available online. It is even posted on the MyDay stories of certain groups and pages, and yet somehow, it gets ignored every single time.

People are given ample time to prepare for a fuel price increase. You have an entire week to fill up your tank before the new prices take effect. Even on the last day, there is usually still plenty of time.

And yet, for most of that week, the gas stations remain relatively quiet.

Then, suddenly, about two hours before midnight, cars seem to appear out of nowhere.

Every gas station you pass is packed.

Traffic starts building up around the stations. Cars line up along the roads, sometimes stretching surprisingly far. People wait for their turn to fill their tanks, and some even get angry when the station has to ration the fuel and they are given, let's say, only half a tank.

And I can't help but wonder:

Didn't we know this was coming?

The fuel increase wasn't a surprise.

People knew about it days in advance.

Seven days.

Seven entire days to respond to the threat to their wallets.

And when do many people actually react?

About two hours before the deadline.

I am not writing this to ridicule anyone's financial situation or circumstances. I don't know what ultimately brings each person into those long lines. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they couldn't afford to fill up earlier. Maybe they simply didn't think about it until the last minute.

There are a hundred possible reasons.

And I certainly don't want to assume that everyone waiting in those lines could have easily bought their fuel days earlier.

But what I find fascinating is how predictable this has become.

You can almost set your watch by it.

The announcement comes.

People see it online.

The week passes.

Nothing happens.

Then, a few hours before the price increase, suddenly everyone remembers that they own a car.

And the gas stations become ground zero.

What makes it even more frustrating is that the gas stations aren't going anywhere.

They will still be there tomorrow.

They are still there today.

And they were there yesterday.

There was no need to wait until the final two hours to rush there with everyone else.

This isn't really about gasoline.

It's about how we respond to information.

We are given plenty of warning about something that will affect our wallets, yet many of us seem to wait until the very last possible moment before doing anything about it.

We don't necessarily have a shortage of information.

Sometimes, we simply have a shortage of urgency.

Until suddenly...

there are only two hours left.

Then for everybody this becomes very, very urgent.

And by then, of course, everybody is stuck in the same long lines.

"Compel Brutality: When Atraxa Turns Planeswalkers Into Weapons." by:

 "Compel Brutality: When Atraxa Turns Planeswalkers Into Weapons."

by: 

Virgilio F. De Leon Jr., MD

Compel Brutality is a two-mana instant coming out of Reality Fracture, and it immediately made me think of one of my favorite decks:

Atraxa Superfriends!

The first half of the card is something we have seen before: Green's version of spot removal based on the might of the creatures it targets.

So, with an Atraxa in play, you're easily looking at four damage to an opponent's creature or planeswalker. Given that there are plenty of planeswalkers with less than four loyalty when they enter the battlefield, this already makes Compel Brutality a very respectable spot-removal spell.

But then we get to the second half of the card.

And this is something we haven't really seen before.

Compel Brutality can target one of your planeswalkers and use its loyalty to deal that much damage to a target creature or planeswalker an opponent controls.

Think about what that means.

A planeswalker isn't just generating value for you anymore.

It's ammunition.

Planeswalkers like Garruk or Ugin, for example, can enter the battlefield with a healthy amount of loyalty, making them excellent targets for Compel Brutality.

And this is where things get particularly interesting in an Atraxa EDH deck.

Atraxa Superfriends is already a deck filled to the brim with planeswalkers. Then you add Atraxa's ability to proliferate at the end of every turn, and suddenly those loyalty counters start piling up.

Your planeswalkers get bigger.

And Compel Brutality gets nastier.

That Garruk that started with five loyalty?

That's potentially five damage.

That Ugin sitting there with a mountain of loyalty?

You can turn all those counters into a very unpleasant surprise for someone else's board.

So every time you cast Compel Brutality, you're not just casting a removal spell.

You're asking one of your planeswalkers:

"How much damage would you like to do?"

Of course, Compel Brutality is only two mana, which makes this even more interesting. You're essentially turning the loyalty you've already accumulated into additional removal without having to sacrifice the planeswalker itself.

For Atraxa Superfriends, that's a pretty sweet deal.

Your planeswalkers generate loyalty.

Atraxa proliferates that loyalty.

And Compel Brutality turns all of it into damage.

That's not just Superfriends anymore.

That's weaponized loyalty.

"Darksteel Angel: The Platinum Angel That Finally Learned to Survive"

"Darksteel Angel: The Platinum Angel That Finally Learned to Survive"

by: 

Virgilio F. De Leon Jr., MD

Though I have always been surrounded by Magic players, it was only around 8th Edition that my brother and I really started getting serious about the game.

I have often joked that if 8th Edition was my handshake with Magic, then the following set, Mirrodin, was when I started French-kissing the game!

Mirrodin introduced so many things to Magic, including one of the mechanics that would eventually become a staple of the game: Equipment.

And then there was that one Angel that kept appearing from time to time.

An Angel that, on more than one occasion, was able to save me.

The card was, of course, Platinum Angel.

Platinum Angel was always a headache for opponents when it landed on the battlefield. As long as it remained in play, your opponents couldn't win and you couldn't lose. It was the kind of card that immediately demanded an answer.

Unfortunately, it had one little problem.

It was surprisingly easy to squish.

Spot removal? Straight to the graveyard.

Mass removal? Also straight to the graveyard.

For all the protection Platinum Angel gave you from losing the game, it wasn't particularly good at protecting itself.

But now, in Reality Fracture, a new and improved version of the Platinum Angel has appeared.

Behold...

Darksteel Angel!

Many older players may recognize this card as something that was teased back when the Phyrexians finally besieged Mirrodin. It was one of those great cliffhangers in Magic history.

Would the Mirrans prevail?

Would the Phyrexians win?

And as a teaser for what was coming, the image of the Darksteel Angel was released.

Well, we eventually found out how that story ended.

The Phyrexians won that round.

But now, all these years later, the Darksteel Angel is finally coming to reality in Reality Fracture—and this version is a considerably tougher evolution of the beloved Platinum Angel.

While it doesn't have Hexproof, Ward, or Shroud, this Angel has something arguably just as important:

Indestructible.

So go ahead. Target it with your spot removal.

Darksteel Angel will still be there.

Throw a normal board wipe at it?

It just shrugs it off.

And what about things like Wither, Infect, or even Black Sun's Zenith?

Well, Darksteel Angel has an answer for those too.

Creatures you control can't get -1/-1 counters.

So not only is this Angel difficult to destroy, it also protects your creatures from one of the nastier ways of getting around Indestructible.

Of course, there is a price to pay.

Darksteel Angel costs nine mana, two more than the original Platinum Angel's seven.

But honestly?

If you're spending nine mana on an Angel, you'd probably like it to stick around.

And with Darksteel Angel on the battlefield, you can finally breathe a little easier while your opponents desperately scramble to figure out how they're supposed to get rid of it.

After all, Platinum Angel taught me how to survive.

Darksteel Angel just made sure nobody could squish her quite so easily.

"An open letter to that lady who stood in the middle of the elevator earlier tonight."

"An open letter to that lady who stood in the middle of the elevator earlier tonight."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr.MD

Maam,

Gusto ko lang pong tanungin kong first time niyo po bang nakasakay ng elevator sa buong buhay ninyo?

Kasi kadalasan ang tamang gawin eh manatili sa kanan para makadaan ang mga bumababa at para mabilis ding makasakay ang iba kaagad. 

Di ko alam tuloy kung bakit nasa saktong gitna ka ng elevator tapos para tuloy gusto mong mag lips to lips kayo ng unang baba eh, yun ba talaga gusto mong mangyari?

Siguro ok na sa akin yun kaso ikaw pa yung mukhang galit nung may mga walong tao na bababa at napilitan ka din na umalis sa gitna para sila makadaan. 

Nakakabigla ba na may bababa ng elevator sa mga oras na yun eh uwian na ng ibang shift yun? Ikaw pa talaga yung nainis eh.

Siguro nga nagmamadali ka lang. Pero kaya naman magintay ng olang segundo lang sa mga gilid ano? For sure di naman mababawasan yung late mo kasi mukhang late ka naman na. 

Yun lang naman. Promise next time na makita kita itutulak na lang kita para sure na yung lips to lips mo. Maging sino man yung bababa.

Pekmans. Mamatay ka man.

Di Nagmamahal,

Doc June

"I Like Nature. I Just Don't Want to Sleep in It."

 "I Like Nature. I Just Don't Want to Sleep in It."

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr.MD

I have a close friend who regularly takes his family camping, and they seem to absolutely love it.

I have never quite understood the appeal of sleeping in the woods, but hey, this isn't meant to ridicule people who love the outdoors. If camping makes you happy, more power to you.

It just isn't for me.

I have three main reasons.

1. Security—and Everything That Comes Out at Night

Forget the nighttime monsters that may or may not exist. I'm talking about the ones we know are real.

Bears.

Snakes.

Insects that can ruin your entire week.

You are, after all, sleeping in a forest. There are going to be things out there that consider your campsite part of their territory.

And then there are the real monsters:

Other people.

I've heard stories of campers dealing with people wandering around their campsites or trying to get into tents. A tent might be perfectly good at keeping out wind and rain, but it isn't exactly a fortress.

I don't know about you, but I prefer sleeping somewhere where I can lock the doors and windows.

Preferably with a guard somewhere nearby.

Call me paranoid.

I call it sleeping comfortably.

2. The Bathroom Issue

This one is particularly important.

As a guy, I probably wouldn't have that much trouble finding a convenient place to go, especially at night when nobody can see me.

But I can't exactly speak for my wife and daughter.

They might not be particularly comfortable with the idea of using the great outdoors as a bathroom.

And even for me, there is something deeply unsettling about having to walk outside in complete darkness, surrounded by tall trees, just to pee.

What if something is watching?

What if something moves?

What if I suddenly hear rustling behind me?

At that point, I'm probably going back into the tent and holding it until sunrise.

Not particularly good for my bladder, perhaps.

But considerably better than discovering that the forest has been watching me conduct my business.

3. The Work

Then there is the actual work involved.

Setting up camp.

Maintaining camp.

Breaking camp.

All that effort just to sleep on the ground.

I know, I know.

I don't exactly scream outdoorsy type.

One look at me will probably confirm that.

But more than that, I simply don't see the appeal of giving up all my creature comforts when they are already available at home.

I like nature.

I enjoy looking at mountains, forests, rivers, beaches, and all the beautiful things the outdoors has to offer.

I just don't necessarily want to sleep there.

I'll explore the wilderness during the day.

Then I'd like to return to a cabin somewhere.

Maybe a hotel.

Actually, scratch that.

A hotel sounds better.

It doesn't even have to be in the city. Put me somewhere in the middle of nowhere if you want.

Just give me four walls, a proper bed, electricity, running water, a bathroom, and a door that locks.

I have no problem visiting nature.

I just prefer to experience it from a comfortable distance.

Because apparently, my definition of roughing it is a hotel without room service.

"The Hydra We Keep Feeding"

"The Hydra We Keep Feeding"

by:

Virgilio F De leon Jr.

I have often said that corruption is everywhere.

It may never be completely eradicated. Perhaps the best metaphor for it is the Hydra: cut off one head, and two more grow in its place.

Every political system contains the temptation to abuse power. People can enter politics with idealistic intentions, believing they can make a difference, only to become corrupted by the power they acquire—the power to bend rules, escape consequences, and, in the worst cases, take public money from the very people they were elected to serve.

Perhaps the difference is that in some countries, corruption still operates within certain limits. The people in power may take their share, but they leave enough behind for governments to continue functioning, for public services to operate, and for infrastructure to actually be built.

Here in the Philippines, however, it often feels as though even those restraints have begun to disappear.

Look at the social media posts of the past few weeks: houses carried away by floods, vehicles of all sizes stranded in rising water, families watching years of hard work disappear in a matter of hours. Ordinary Filipinos suffer because the greed within our government—regardless of political party—has reached a point where corruption seems to exist at every level of the chain.

It is no longer about taking a small piece.

Everyone wants the biggest piece they can get before what remains trickles down to the next person.

And so the common Filipino suffers.

People who are already struggling to improve their lives find themselves pushed backward again. And even those who have managed to build something through years of hard work can see it swept away in a matter of hours.

Then comes the inevitable question:

Will anything actually be done?

The eyes are elsewhere.

The ears are listening to other things.

The mouth is talking about other topics.

Meanwhile, the suffering continues unabated.

And perhaps, someday, something else will rise from these waters.

Something other than Pinoy humor.

Something other than another celebration of Filipino resilience.

Perhaps it will be an urge to do something different.

To choose differently.

But then comes another question:

Who are the alternatives?

Will they simply be another version of the same animal? Another group waiting for its turn at the trough? Or will they merely be the lesser of two evils?

Because lesser does not mean good.

Evil is still evil, no matter how much smaller the portion may be.

No one seriously talks about revolution, of course. Not openly, anyway. In an age when people can communicate more freely and instantly than at any other point in history, it is strange how rarely the word itself enters the conversation.

Perhaps it is because many people have come to believe that revolution would accomplish nothing.

Perhaps they have seen too many revolutions replace one group of powerful people with another.

Perhaps they are simply tired.

And maybe that is the greatest danger of all.

Not that the Hydra has too many heads.

But that we have become so accustomed to feeding it that we no longer believe there is any point in fighting it.

For as long as that remains true, the Hydra does not even need to defend itself.

We will keep feeding it ourselves.

"The Places Where Her Glasses Go"

 

"The Places Where Her Glasses Go"

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr.MD

My wife has this weird habit of losing her glasses, even though our master bedroom really isn't that big.

She'll get out of bed, touch her forehead, turn this way and that, and ask,

"O, asan na naman ang salamin ko?"

Where are my glasses again?

There are the usual places.

First is her office table, where she keeps an unusual plate that I jokingly call the V-plate because, well... it looks like that particular part of the female anatomy.

She always corrects me afterward by saying that it's a cloud.

I just nod and agree.

Then there is her dresser, where she actually has a designated holder in one corner. It's lined with velvet and fur and looks suspiciously like Santa's boot. This is where I usually put her glasses whenever she falls asleep while I'm around, or whenever I happen to find them lying somewhere they shouldn't be.

And if the glasses aren't in either of those two places, there is one more likely location: a particular part of our bed.

The part where I usually sleep.

We call this area the Abyss.

The Abyss is normally inhabited by our stuffed sharks, Shiloh and Shasha, along with Aven's gift to us—a microbeaded lobster whom I lovingly named Pinchy.

But the Abyss contains much more than marine life.

It holds hair clips, her phone, the TV remote, and an impressive assortment of things she may have been holding when she eventually fell asleep.

Most of the time, her glasses can be found in one of those three places.

But that particular night, they were nowhere.

We checked the office table.

Nothing.

The Santa-boot holder.

Empty.

The Abyss.

The sharks and Pinchy were there, of course, along with half the contents of our bedroom.

But no glasses.

My wife finally sighed and said something that I found ridiculously cute.

She wished her glasses would simply return to her hand like Thor's Mjolnir.

And, naturally, my brain immediately supplied the image.

My wife standing in the middle of the bedroom, holding out her hand dramatically as her glasses flew across the room—

whoosh!

—only to fly straight past me and into her waiting palm.

I don't know why that amused me so much.

Maybe because after being married long enough, you start developing your own little mythology for ordinary things.

The Abyss.

The V-plate.

The Santa-boot glasses holder.

The legendary glasses that apparently deserve to be summoned like a magical weapon.

Eventually, we found them.

They were sitting quietly beside her dresser the entire time.

Of course they were.

We had dinner afterward.

Nothing particularly exciting happened.

No dragons.

No magic.

No Mjolnir-like return of the glasses.

Just the two of us having dinner after solving yet another very small mystery in our very ordinary home.

And somehow, I think that is what I like most about our life together.

Sometimes happiness isn't found in grand adventures.

Sometimes it's simply knowing where your wife's glasses are—

even when she doesn't.