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Welcome to Volume 6 of The Marocharim Experiment. This blog is authored and maintained by Marocharim, the self-professed antichrist of new media.

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Marocharim is a 21-year-old college senior from the University of the Philippines Baguio, majoring in Social Anthropology and has a minor in Political Science. He lives with his parents, his brother and his sister in Baguio City - having been born and raised there all his life. He is the author of three book-versions of The Marocharim Experiment.

Most of his time is spent at school, where he can be found in the UP Baguio Library reading or scribbling notes, and sometimes hanging out with his friends or by himself in the kiosks, or the main lobby. During his spare time, he continues writing. When not in school he hangs out with his friends, or takes long walks around Baguio City to, as he puts it, "get lost."

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The Marocharim Experiment Volume I: The Trial of Another Mind, Subject to Disclosure is Available Now

The Marocharim Experiment Volume II: The Nevermind Chronicles is Available Now

The Marocharim Experiment Volume III: The Sentence Construction of Reality is Available Now


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November 26, 2007
Choke Your Chick(en)

< hmmm... >

   I've choked the proverbial chicken before: preened the bird's feathers, stroked the cock, made the rooster crow.  But as far as every avian metaphor for masturbation goes, I didn't do it in the darkness of a cinema.

   OK, so I can't watch "One More Chance:" I'm not saying that I'd like to jack off to the sight of Bea Alonzo or Maja Salvador (cancelling out John Lloyd Cruz and Derek Ramsey because I don't have a shred of gay in me), but I can't watch anything anymore without being misinterpreted by peons.

   The last chick flick I watched in a cineplex was "The Lake House," and boy, did I get a lot of heckling from the friends who saw me there.  I won't make excuses out of it, even a lyrical one like: "I'm very sure... this never happened to me before."  As much as I'd like to watch "One More Chance," I can't: for one, the plot hits hard on me.  For two, I stereotype myself.

   There's a lot between a man and his chick flick: a lot in the way of a woman in his arms.  Yup, I don't have one: today being the third year that I've been officially single means that I don't have to be forced into watching a movie because my significant other wants to.  Adding to my eccentricity (OK, weirdness) is that the last movie I watched with my ex was "The Exorcist."

   I am free as a... bird.

   Why do I concern myself so much about stereotypical peons, you ask?  Basically, I'm a stereotypical peon myself, but I can't admit to it.  I am a big fan of Sharon Cuneta, but you won't see me queuing up for a concert ticket, nor would I claw my way to the front of the sea of Sharonians to wipe Sharon's sweat away from her brow.  My clamoring for a movie that reuintes Shawee-Gabo (Gabby Concepcion) is something I would rather confine in cyberspace.  But even my blog is no longer a refuge for my private thoughts: I'm already too well-known for that end.

   Oh for goodness sake.

Posted at Monday, November 26, 2007 by marocharim


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