"The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks."

Over the last weekend, I have finally coped with the separation from the Philippines. I realize that every time you go back and/or encounter your loved ones after a long absence the task of disassociating from them becomes more and more difficult. I wonder how I’d be able to cope next year. We’ll see.

One of my friends, who is also based in the Gulf, has been ribbing me about the nature of my recent posts and my unnecessary preoccupation with an infatuation bordering on teenage puppy love. You can bet that that piece of foolishness serves its own purpose.

Oft-times, I reflect on the relevance of my own life and what the future bodes for me. I’d like to think that my life is proceeding on some sort of plan, some sort of central theme that would define my life when my time has come. That I do one particular thing should be indicative of the kind of value I would like to give.

I am under no illusions that I will be doing earth-shaking, now far removed from the days of my youth when such things seemed possible. Funny, when one is young one would love to conquer the whole world; a few years of perspective later, one would simply be content with a patch to call one’s own.

I also see clearly that the tenor of my life would not change even if I were to find someone in the near future and finally settle down. The focus may change, the perceived end-products may be different, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be drastically different. Instead of diffusing my passions all over the place, they would be centered on my own family.

Will my attaining my image of romantic love serve as a life-changer? Perhaps. I do hope so. But if it doesn’t, what then?

I live. The world goes on. I trust I’d be living my life in pretty much the same way, and know that love waits for me when I come home. With my family, it’s not something I have won for myself, but that doesn’t make their love any less true. With my friends, it’s something that reflects what I have given --- and when I expect less or nothing at all in return sometimes they surprise me.

So now, I’d rather admit to be alive and frivolous, rather than numb and serious. I may protest loudly and rail against being left behind. It may sound tawdry and may prove to be tedious for some, but it’s not their call anyway. It’s mine.

Sure, I'd wax poetic and cry, apparently, over seemingly trivial things in this world. I'd wear my heart out on my sleeve and hope that what I'm sharing will help someone realize his or her own life lessons.

The alternatives? Stay in my room and despair over the apparent end of the world? Rapture, indeed, say the TV evangelists. Else be bound to the demands of my job which will neither give me an award for my efforts nor miss me when I am gone?

It's a no-brainer, baby! Mine thinking to protest much more, I daresay.

* * * * *

Some random thoughts . . .

Is it me or is our Internet service getting slower and slower? Getting harder to post!

Ugh! I haven't written in Filipino so long I've become constipated in the language. Have to do something about that, hmmm... Thanks to Mals for her short comment.

It's the hot and humid time of the year in the Dammam area and it isn't too much fun to go out. Most fellows though who have notions of losing weight say this is the best time for exercise. However, the reduced oxygen and increased moisture in the air can do bad things for you. One of our senior colleagues thought to play a little tennis during this time of the year. The guy suffered a mild stroke, and he got away lightly, I would say. Sans air conditioning, it is likely people will drop like flies in the heat.

We're back to rehearsing my second directorial job, Manuel Buising's "Tumbampreso" (Palanca First Prize Winner for One-Act Play in Filipino, 1988). It's good to get going on this again. Still struggling with the translation of the title for our marketing campaign though. Is it "Hit the Can" (in the mechanics of the game), "Drop the Target" (again more on the mechanics), or "Bowl for Prisoners" (theme of the play, but I'll give the story away)? Whatever. It will come to me. Soon.

Dahil Ayaw Po Nilang Magpaawat

Dahil ayaw po nilang magpaawat
Ilang daan ang nasalanta
Dahil ayaw po nilang magpaawat
Pati bata naging mga biktima

Maipapakain pa sa mga gutom
Ang kanilang ideyolohiya?

Dahil ayaw po nilang magpaawat
Dati'y gusot ngayo'y sugat na
Dahil ayaw po nilang magpaawat
Nadamay na ang walang-sala.

Kung nais mo ng katarungan
Maging karapat-dapat ka
Kung nais mo ng kapayapaan
Maging malaya't payapa ka

At kung nabasag ang katahimikan
Nawa'y magpakahinahon ha
Kung gusto mo lamang magkaganti
Matigilan ka lang naman sana

Kahit sa kabilang dako ng mundo'y
Naglalagablab ang giyera
Hindi maaaring tumalikod
Hindi maaaring magbalewala

Kapag dumayo si Kamatayan
At ang mahal mo ang ginapas
Puwede bang iharap ang prinsipyo
At ito ang gawing lunas?

Pasensya na't ganito na lang ang aking maibabahagi sa ngayon. Araw-araw na lamang ang sumasabog na balita ay ang giyera sa Lebanon. Nagmula lamang sa pagdakip ng mga sundalong Israeli at ilang rocket sa mga siyudad ng Israel, ngayon kay rami nang namatay.

Bato lang ang hindi maaantig sa mga makikita sa telebisyon - mga wasak na gusali, mga nakaratay na bangkay, mga nasusunog na sasakyan, at higit sa lahat, mga sugatan at patay na bata.

Hindi na maiwawasto ng mga Ingles at ng mga Amerikano ang kahayupang nagganap sa mga Hudyo noong World War II. Ngunit hindi titigil ang digmaan hanggang mayroon pa ring bansang Israel.

Hindi ako galit sa Hudyo at Israeli, pero isang malaking pagkakamali ng kasaysayan ang pagkakabuo ng modernong bansa ng Israel. Ilang dantaong itong hawak ng mga Arabo at walang sapat na kapangyarihan ang mga Hudyo para mabawi nilang ang kanilang lupain, ang Lupain ng Pangako.

Hindi rin naman ako kontra sa nakalathala sa Bibliya, pero ang huling malayang estadong pinamumunuan ng Hudyo ay bago pa pinanganak si Kristo. Simula noon, pumailalim ang Palestine sa iba't ibang kaharian at lahi -- mula sa mga Griyego, sa mga Romano, at sa huli sa mga Muslim na Ottoman hanggang sa mapunta ito sa mga Ingles noong ika-20 siglo.

Nasaan nakalathala na karapat-dapat ibalik ang lupang ito sa mga Hudyo?

Sa kabilang dako, iba ang kahalagahan at papel na ginagampanan ng Hezbollah sa buhay ng mga tao sa Lebanon. Hindi lamang siya isang lugar para ipahayag ang paniniwalang pulitikal, siya rin ay isang huwaran ng maka-sibikang mamamayan. Kumbaga, parang kasama na ang Hezbollah sa bituka ng masa sa Lebanon.

Paano mo susugpuin ang kaaway na ganito? Sa bawat isang namamatay ngayon, lalung-lalo na kung walang kinalaman sa Hezbollah, ay tiyak dalawa o higit pa ang papalit sa kanya. Kahit lusubin ang bawat purok sa timog na bahagi ng Lebanon, hindi nila makukuha ang lahat ng bomba dahil ang iba'y tinatago sa ilalim ng kama ng mga kaalyado nila.

Ilagay mo ang sarili mo sa kanilang katayuan --- sinong tutulungan mo, ang iyong kababata't kapanalig sa pananampalataya, o ang dayuhan?

Gayunpaman, prinsipyo ng karuwagan ang pinaiiral ng Hezbollah. Kay tagal na silang nagkaroon ng pagkakataong ilunsad ang kanilang paniniwala, ngunit mistulang nagtatago sila sa saya ng mga Lebanese. Ang unang pumisil sa gatilyo ay ang maysala, kahit sabihin nating makatarungan siya. Ang masasabi ko lang ay ganito: Gagawa ka lang ng kagaguhan, lubus-lubusin mo na at siguraduhin mong panalo ka. Eh kung pisil lang ginawa mo at sakmal ang ibinalik sa iyo, pasensya ka na. Tapos hindi naman ikaw ang nababawian. Duwag.

Malabisan man ang pagganti ng Israel, mauunawaan at makikita mo rin ang katuwiran nila sa kanilang pagsalakay. 'Yun nga lang, sila rin ang naghuhukay ng sarili nilang kabaong.

Syria at Iran. 'Yan ang nakaabang sa inyo. Kahit tumalikod na ang karamihan ng mga bansang Muslim sa panig ng Hezbollah, ito lamang ang mga pamunuan at hindi mga mamamayan nila. Asahan ninyong maitutuon sa isipan ng henerasyon ngayon ng Muslim at sa susunod pa --- dapat pawiin ang Israel para sadyang mawala na ang mga kinasusuklamang Hudyo. Dapat pahirapan at pagpapatayin ang mga Amerikano at ibang hindi kasama sa pananampalataya.

Poot at kasamaan ang itinanim ng bawat kampo dahil sa gulong ito. At araw-araw na may digmaan, ilan pa ang gustong makialam --- bukal man ang kanilang pakay para sa kapayapaan o HINDI. Mas malamang HINDI.

Magpaawat na kayo, kaibigan.

So That I'll Know

Plucked out from one of the old Friday Five entries. It's nice for me to look back.

1. 10 years ago what did you think you would be doing now? --- Working in show business. Really. Not as an actor, mind, but writing songs and scripts. On the flip side, running my own hip night spot.

2. Where do you think you will be in 5 years from now? --- Most likely, working outside of the Philippines. I hope not in Saudi Arabia. Correction, I pray it wouldn’t be in Saudi Arabia. Alternatively, I would have figured out a great way for me to come back to the Philippines.

3. Do you live life one day at a time or look to the future? --- Both. It’s not like I plan every moment of each day, but I do have set time frames to achieve some goals and/or assess how well am I getting along in my life.

4. Do you wish you could go back in time and undo something in your life? --- All the time, baby! All the time.

5. If you could send a message back in time and give a younger version of yourself some advice, what would it be? --- I’d say to my 15-year old self: “Things will turn upside down and everything will be a lot more difficult. But never sell yourself short, and my goodness, never start anything you don’t mean to finish!”

Just Because It's Sweet

I'm posting an oldie from Manhattan Transfer - "Smile Again" (Music: Jay Graydon/David Foster/Bill Champlin, Words: Alan Paul). My eldest brother was an R&B fan (he got into Earth, Wind & Fire particularly) and he bought MT's "Mecca for Moderns" which features this cut. We also had the previous LP "Extensions" on cassette but I prefer "Mecca" more.

I just realized this song is 25 years old. I first heard it when I was 10 years old. Shoot, I'm getting old. I remember, back when I was a freshman in high school, answering one of those scrapbooks girls collect and the question asked was: What's your favorite song? Most of my classmates invariably answered a New Wave song after the other ("Melt With You" and "Blasphemous Rumours" topped the list) and guess what square old Moi answered?

You bet. This song. I also put in "Alone At Last" by Neil Sedaka, which was SOOOO WRONG. Neil frickin' Sedaka? R&B and jazz could make you a little more hip, as in older, more sophisticated, but Neil frickin' Sedaka? I bet the girl who owned that book would have ripped that page out for that comment alone, and it probably cost me one million pogi points, not that I had that amount to start with, anyhow. It's like hanging an "L" sign over my head, or better yet, spray-painting the word HOMO on my chest. Neil Sedaka indeed. Come to think of it, there were yet other comments I vaguely remember that give me cause for regret.

Back on track again. I'm puttting this on just because it's sweet, because it did, indeed, make me smile and chuckle again for by-gone times, and most especially, because of the hope that there would be a person that would make me sing this song wholeheartedly.

This song is for all those spending time away from their Significant Others tonight...

Endless nights I'd play solitaire
Imagining that you were here
One night flights -- such heartless affairs
They froze the hopes of love in me

You suddenly appeared
Melted all my fears
Filled me with the love I need

You make me smile again
Like a child of three
And I believe it will turn out right baby
Oh you make me smile again
Hold me in your arms
Oh love, my love

Heart to heart our souls intertwine
Make love and float away with me
Twins of flame a love so divine
I want to spend my life around you

Now, now I have the strength
Now I have the hopes
You give me all I need

To make me smile again
Like a child of three
And I believe it will work out right
Oh you make me smile again
Hold me in your arms
Oh love, my love

You make me smile again
Like a child of three
Oh I believe we'll live a dream for two
Oh you make me smile again
Hold me in your arms
Oh love, my love

Enriching Your Vocabulary

F Word - The F word and its many uses

Haha! I just had to share this one. Never thumb up your nose for whatever knowledge out there... I posted this in test blog by mistake.

Thanks to Robert. Meantime, the quest for a compelling blog topic continues . . .

I'm sick of self-flagellation and Middle East politics is so darned predictable it's downright boring. Ideas, anyone?

And Then The House Fell Down...

eveningdrive: Summer, S.H.A.R.E. and Alicia Silverstone

I can't believe it! My buddy Robert has finally made it to the blog scene!

That means the world must be ending --- this house of cards is falling down, baby!

Seriously, from where my buddy comes from, he is so left-field his mind works in another ballpark! And then some!

Okay, let's see where this leads. Compare the following stuff from Robert 10 years ago with what I wrote in "Worshipping Beauty":

Unless of course, you females, being the sneaky lot you are, have found another way to twist us poor men into pitiful wretches, helpless puddles of slime who are always there for your convenience and your endless, impossible demands, and then leaving our withered husks by the roadside to the carrion eaters as you move on to your next game, your next conquest, your next prey. Watching. Stalking. Waiting intently for the time when he is most vulnerable, then snatching his soul and ripping his spirit apart into bloody shreds, rending him with claws of malice and guilt, tearing him with fangs of lies and promised affection, revelling in the spiritual, bloody gore that spills from his shattered being, then howling with delight at the full moon, as what was once a man stares at you with the eyes of the dead, with life gone, spirit broken, dreams shattered into a thousand tiny shards of despair. The memory of your face, a wraith feeding on his fevered brain, the sound of your voice a curse burning his ears 'til he can no longer hear the screeching sound of his heart breaking , his agonized shouts begging to break out past gray, cadaverous lips. Lips that still remember the sweetness of yours, never tasting the poisoned taint 'til it was too late! Lips of yours that kissed and drew blood, a kiss of cruelty that shouts louder than the deafening silence of the night, unformed tears surrendering to your call: "I own you now. To do what I will, to be crucified along the roadside to entertain the passers-by, to tell them that I have taken you, and there you will rot. You will consume yourself in your desire to please me, you will forget who you are to always remember me, and you will toss away your dignity because I have no use for it. For you are mine, to do what I will!" Harbringers of pain and misery, agents of passion and bedevilment, what weapons can we men wield against you? What shield will protect us from your angelic smile and the hidden, venom-wrapped blade behind your back? What wall can we cower behind, to hide from the spectre of your touch and its dark, forbidden promises? What can save us from your infinite, deadly charms? What will eventually earn us redemption from the purgatory that you make of our world?

Nothing.

And so we die.

*END*

Yup, I did unscrupulously rip him off. Best praise I can give him yet.

Welcome to blogging, Robert!

I Want to Be Happy...

in(s)ane ramblings: happy talk

The link that Nikki provides is fab --- I'd like to turn it around several times to see where the argument goes, but granted it's true ---

Saudi Arabia at 89? Over Denmark at 99?

Huh?

Well, don't know what they used as factors for the study but let me put it this way:
1) I sleep better when I'm living here
2) I watch my diet better too
3) I'm less likely to abuse my body
4) I get more meaningful exercise
5) I'm much more self-reliant

Shoot, yeah, malling and the night life in the Philippines are a different experience, you are spoiled for choice when it comes to women, and cable TV is much more value-added.

Apart from those?

Export my family and loved ones over here, and you can keep the Philippines all to yourselves.

Yup, you can never be too happy but you can definitely try. (and Niks, I totally empathize. The miles apart from someone you love can be SOOOOOOO frustrating and heart-wrenching. O.k., o.k., I put my foot in my mouth again!)

Some bits and pieces...

I'm midway through A Storm of Swords, the third installment to George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. The first two books (A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings) have been riveting enough ... I've been reading the series only one week or so and I can't wait for the next installments. The series doesn't have the grand scale of Robert Jordan's A Wheel of Time, but the writing is soooo much better and the characters are much more palpable. Speaking of Jordan, I haven't read Knife of Dreams yet. I can hold off my desire on this, I'd rather look for A Feast for Crows by Martin. Shame the last book in Ice & Fire is still being written...

Odds for a repeat for Miami are 5:1, about the same as the Spurs winning the championship. Mavs take first spot at 4:1. The Motor City Boys dropped from 5:1 to 7:1 after the Big Ben trade, and the Bulls moved up from 30:1 to 12:1 via same trade.

Want to make a pile of money on a real longshot? Put some money for the Knicks (150:1) to win the whole enchilada, and while you're at it, double the fun with the TrailBlazers (300:1)...

Isn't it interesting how so many people got into the Zidane headbutting issue? Now that's the World Cup for you. Sooner or later, we'll have peace conferences about behavior on the soccer pitch. Come on, give us a break! The guy behaved badly, his antagonist is less than forthcoming about what was said that caused the fracas, and sport is sport, no matter the trash-talking.

The French already lost the Cup, most probably because of Zidane's send-off (he could have given the French some more confidence in the penalties). I'm of a mind they should have awarded the Golden Ball to someone else as a matter of principle, and worse things have happened and people have hardly battered an eyelash. Let's move on! ...

Our satellite TV service got the E! Europe channel and I got to watch an episode of "Girls from the Playboy Mansion." As you can divine, watching TV over here has a reason to become pleasurable, hehe.

A Small Imposition

This will be my 200th post. Not exactly in the chronology of this blog, since I started this only in February 2005 and the posts dated prior to that were just my means to capture my thoughts since the beginning of my stay here in the Middle East.

Please forgive this small imposition of this short prayer written by Trappist monk and renowned mystic Thomas Merton - I'm not sure whether this is the original text or derived from it, since I got it second-hand from the La Salle Brothers. This prayer has always inspired me even in my darkest hours.

No matter how lost I may seem, He has made it possible for me to find Him and know the right way.

* * * * *

My Lord God, I have no idea of where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this, You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are with me.

Aftermath

Just to show you that I can poke fun at myself, I'm offering some of the sappy songs of the Beatles from their early albums to show to what depths I could fall into if I were actually singing them (with feelings, natch!) ---

I'll Cry Instead - vocals by John Lennon - from "Help!"

I've got every reason on earth to be mad,
'cause I've just lost the only girl I had.
And if I could get my way,
I'd get myself locked up today,
But I can't so I cry instead.

I've got a chip on my shoulder that's bigger than my feet,
I can't talk to people that I meet.
And if I could see you now,
I'd try to make you sad somehow,
But I can't so I cry instead.

Don't want to cry when there's people there,
I get shy when they start to stare,
I'm gonna hide myself away, ay hay;
But I'll come back again someday.

And when I do you'd better hide all the girls,
I'm gonna break their hearts all 'round the world.
Yes, I'm gonna break them in two,
And show you what your loving man can do,
Until then I'll cry instead.

Don't want to cry when there's people there,
I get shy when they start to stare,
I'm gonna hide myself away, ay hay;
But I'll come back again someday.

And when I do you'd better hide all the girls,
'cause I'm gonna break their hearts all 'round the world.
Yes, I'm gonna break them in two,
And show you what your loving man can do,
Until then I'll cry instead.

I'm A Loser - vocals by John Lennon - from "Beatles for Sale"

I'm a loser
I'm a loser
And I'm not what I appear to be

Of all the love I have won or have lost
There is one love I should never have crossed
She was a girl in a million, my friend
I should have known she would win in the end

I'm a loser
And I lost someone who's near to me
I'm a loser
And I'm not what I appear to be

Although I laugh and I act like a clown
Beneath this mask I am wearing a frown
My tears are falling like rain from the sky
Is it for her or myself that I cry

I'm a loser
And I lost someone who's near to me
I'm a loser
And I'm not what I appear to be

What have I done to deserve such a fate
I realize I have left it too late
And so it's true, pride comes before a fall
I'm telling you so that you won't lose all

I'm a loser
And I lost someone who's near to me
I'm a loser
And I'm not what I appear to be

* * * * * *

Okay --- that's enough for now.

Italy kicks butt at the World Cup! Nice to see that adversity has allowed this squad to bloom. Anyhow, the squad was pretty much untouchable throughout the tournament, torching its group rivals before revving it up another notch in the semifinal against Germany. Yup, the Australians could have handed their lunches to them during the Round of 16, but luck --- and that pinch of anima --- carried the Azzurri through and they pretty much bitch-slapped Ukraine in the quarters.

I would have wanted Brazil to win its sixth World Cup --- I'm not much a fan of European football but what the Germans and the Italians brought was GREAT! I'm not a fan of the French, or the British with their constipated way of playing football. France, of course, were the superior team throughout the crossover stages, upending favored Spain in the Round of 16 and then surprising Brazil in the quarters with a 1-0 victory. How they could have had a major meltdown in the final after progressively growing stronger is inexplicable --- well, they did blow hot-and-cold in the group stage and barely qualified.

I'd like to salute the Germans for putting forth a well-organized, memorable Cup.

* * * * * *

Federer swats Nadal, then outlasts him at Wimbledon. I don't like Rafael Nadal. Correction: I dislike Rafael Nadal, his less-than-welcome pugnacity, his overblown panache. I do like his enthusiasm, his never-say-die attitude, and his relentlessness. These attributes are great for the sport. But never call him a master of anything so long as he only wins primarily on clay. Thomas Muster used to be like a machine on clay, and look what respect he got (to the point that Andre Agassi refused to recognize his No. 1 ranking). To his credit, Nadal is a quick learner on grass, and the rivalry with Federer looks to be more legit than the so-called rivalry between Federer and Andy Roddick (who, incidentally, falls out of the top 10).

I am a fan of chaps like Federer --- and along the same line, Tim Duncan, Pete Sampras, Bjorn Borg, Hakeem Olajuwon, Larry Bird, the oft-forgotten Marvin Hagler, Gabriel "Flash" Elorde, Paeng Nepomuceno, the little-recognized Miguel Indurain, and gulp! (jologs alert!) - Alvin Patrimonio. They bring their A-game most consistently, play with beautiful fundamentals, and let their games - not their agents or press handlers - do the talking.

* * * * * *

Miami win the NBA championship, and then some. This comment is late --- but I have to say it. You've got to hand it to Shaq - he promised a championship, and the Heat got one. Of course, it's all about Dwayne Wade, but without a legit low-post presence, the Heat couldn't have done it. As to Dallas, I tip my hat to Dirk Nowitzki, but he still has to prove he has the heart of a champion. Well, maybe next year. And please, Mark Cuban has to stop whining.

As to the negative karma of Pat Riley (finally --- he sheds all of the burdens he carried since he backstabbed the Knicks in 1995) and Alonzo Mourning (don't serve him up any pity, he had to earn this one really badly), they just had enough mojo to get through --- given that only Detroit was the only real competition.

However, Detroit was a step slower (mainly because Ben Wallace is in decline) and coach Flip Saunders just showed he's only great for the regular season but is a choker during the playoffs (pencil in Rick Adelman and Mike Dunleavy here too). That they released Wallace through free agency was a foregone conclusion. That the Chicago Bulls overpaid Wallace with $15 million a year for four years is also certain. Maybe with their moves, including dealing Tyson Chandler to the New Orleans Hornets for PJ Brown and JR Smith, could win them the title come next June. Or maybe not.

As to the West, I feel only Dallas and Phoenix can make major noise - Dallas mainly by fielding the same team minus (probably) deadweight like Keith Van Horn, et al, Phoenix because Amare Stoudemire is coming back. Who knows? They might face each other in the Conference finals. I still like San Antonio, but after losing both their centers in the offseason and still some iffiness in their guard line-up (no back-up for Tony Parker), questions remain. Hope they convince a veteran free agent to sign for less bucks like they did with Michael Finley.

Lakers? Come on! The guys to watch in L.A. are the Clippers. Here's to them dusting off their rivals and I hope this time they'll hold up long enough to finally undo all the bad karma and even worse decisions made by management that have plagued their organization.

These 2006 playoffs, I had them and the Spurs meeting in the West finals (even if the Mavs did hold a 3-1 cushion). I also had the Cavs winning the tiff with the Pistons, but it looks like Lebron James is not that good or experienced enough (besides, his supporting cast sucks) to lift his team over a tested team like the Pistons.

If the Celtics pull off a major trade and give Pierce a legitimate sidekick, I have them winning the Atlantic. I just love the Celts, so sue me. New Jersey is the wise pick though. The Sixers are washed-up, while Toronto may surprise with their new line-up. Forget the Knicks, are they still in the NBA?

In Central, it's going to be tough with Cleveland and Detroit banging it out for the lead. Intriguing dark horses would be Chicago and the new-look Milwaukee Bucks, who dumped TJ Ford for Charlie Villanueva. As to Indiana, maybe they will, maybe they won't finally come out with a sure-win team.

Down in the Southeast, Orlando, not Washington, would seem to be the threat to Miami's reign. Will Dwight Howard finally make the Big Leap and become a true superstar? Atlanta and Charlotte will fight out for the scraps. The blueprint for Charlotte looks well-thought out, they just need luck at the lottery and hopefully attract a good free agent when they could finally afford to splurge. Plus, they Michael Jordan at the helm; maybe his basketball brains would count for something despite his bombing-out with the Wizards.

Over at Southwest, Dallas-San Antonio is the top draw but this division is loaded. You've got the Grizzlies and the Rockets as legit threats and the Hornets almost made it to the playoffs last year. Despite the talent of McGrady and Yao, I think overall the Rockets team is poorly-constructed and what's worse, they have the wrong coach. Maybe Rick Adelman as coach could help, he did revive the Sacramento Kings back in the day...

As to the runt of the Western litter, the Northwest, it's a division that is Denver's to lose. Portland is rebuilding, Seattle is going nowhere, Minnesota is mired in mediocrity and Kevin Garnett's monster contract, and only Utah is the bright spot assuming the Jazz are injury-free.

The Pacific may be the emerging powerhouse with a revitalized Kings squad featuring Ron Artest pushing for space at the top against Phoenix and the Clippers. The Lakers may surprise; they do have Kobe (guaranteed 15 wins with him alone) and maybe with more guard help they'll win more games. The Warriors are terminal; let's forget about them.

Barring injuries and bad luck, I see a Miami-Cleveland face-off in the East. With the new playoff rules in place, I figure it would be Dallas-San Antonio, though it could very well be Phoenix or the Clippers who would take either one or both their places. Now THAT would be intriguing.

Can't call for a champion just as yet, though a Cleveland-LA Clippers NBA final series would be a DOOOOOOZZZZY! Imagine two franchises formerly consigned to obscurity finally reaching the top of the heap. (sidebar: I watched a classic game - the Christmas Day 1977 game of the Cavs and the then-Buffalo Braves. Only Walt Frazier and Cazzie Russell on the Cavs rung bells. No others -though Sven Nater and Randy Smith of the Braves brought some memories. What a game!)

* * * * * *

Yup, I'm recovered. George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire is great! Should have started my collection ages ago.

Un-selling the Drama

I have just returned to my desk in Dammam and it’s been quite a while since I put anything into this blog. First, it was in part to the horrendous connection speed our home PC puts up. In part because we only have one telephone at home and I can’t hog precious airtime. In part because our home PC is in a room that I have to share with other people and I can’t stay up late and disturb their sleep.

It was, also, in part, that I’m learning not to put down my feelings as if SOMEONE OUT THERE would notice. No matter how many times I put my heart out on my sleeve, no matter how I try to be clever, there just isn’t anyone.

I would like to believe that someone would understand my despair. Now, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I live my life to the fullest, and discharge my duties as best as I could to those to whom I am accountable.

During my vacation, the best times of my days were offered to my family – my sister who had gotten married, my sister who was tested by illness, my mother. Naturally, being the kind of person I am, it was hard for me not to play the part of reprobate against the part of quintessence of morality which defined my life overseas.

I offer no excuses and seek no absolution. Still, what dominated my life emotionally was my pushing for a resolution --- to find an eligible young woman who, given time, would agree to be my life partner. Apparently the one to whom I have concentrated my efforts did not agree with my assessment.

My first instinct was to find something to blame. As it is, there was … nothing. I wasn’t the person she had in mind and I had little opportunity to make her see me in the best possible light. I tried to make the best out of being disappointed and heartbroken. I almost succeeded.

Do my feelings really matter in all this? We-ell, considering the state of affairs where…

…children in Africa are under constant threat by warfare, disease, and famine
…the war in Iraq continues to be an even bigger quagmire by the day
… Jews and Arabs really cannot get along and so the vendettas, air strikes, suicide bombings, kidnappings, and prisoner torture go on without let-up
…nukes in Korea and Iran may spark a conflagration that would end the world as we know it
…gas prices keep on going up as a result of the tensions in the Middle East
…fellow Filipinos will kill each other for gambling winnings (never mind what else is going on in the country)
…somewhere out there this very minute a child is being raped, abused, or otherwise demeaned

I’d like to say it would be an even match, hahahaha! The delusion ends right there, and all around me, life goes on --- and the drama of my life is just what it is: another drama. It is the only universe I know, but out there, with the lives of other people where

… a rags-to-riches story like Manny Pacquiao would capture the heart of an entire nation, and inspires more worldwide
…young people continue to volunteer their time and talent to provide learning and economic opportunities to those who have less in life
…professionals strive despite the physical and emotional difficulties of working overseas to provide a better life for their families
…couples keep the faith to their marriage vows in the face of so many broken relationships
…new and wonderful things are being discovered about the nature of our life and our universe, mostly by young scientists
…young voices are making themselves heard --- literally in the field of music and figuratively through their expressions in dance and literature

My life drama is only as significant as I make it to be. So now I got to chin up, face tomorrow, whatever. I can’t be fixed today, maybe I can’t bring myself to fix myself tomorrow. But hey, I’m still alive, I draw breath each day and I am in command of my faculties to be of use to somebody.

The hurt would go away. Yeah, maybe. But I am still broken.

For the first time in so many months, it doesn't really matter if no one OUT THERE really cares.

Inexact

Organizing weddings is an inexact science. If there is any exactness about the youngest of social sciences - political science - that's the kind of exactness you will have (and probably less) when you have a wedding.

I wish we could have done some things differently that would have made my sister's wedding more special than it was already. Of course there were some miscues that could have been altogether prevented with more foresight and delegation. However, hindsight, as they say, offers 20/20 vision all the way.

Meantime, take a load of me in this picture. Dang, I look wider than ever! Hmmm... must study old pictures to motivate self to exercise more. This was a great shot care of our eldest brother. Great timing on the shot, and most of all, it included me in it, hahahahahaha!

The experience of this wedding also offers succinct advice to anyone (I mean anyone) who is contemplating making a lifetime commitment such as marriage:

• All relationships are about roles - you take the role that is required of you in the relationship, and adjust to it accordingly. And, however set or rigid your personality is, you always have to make an adjustment. I'm sure this is a lesson exercised daily by this couple, as they had met in a later stage of their lives. Younger people may have the advantage of growing into a relationship, but they may not have the maturity to make an accurate read and thus make the wrong decisions.
• It is always better to visualize what kind of life you will be living with your partner. This is both an exercise in creativity and in realism. The creativity entailed is that of projecting the status of the relationship and stretching it over a longer continuum, while the realism, simply, is to limit the idealism and wishful thinking to make such a projection free of sentimentality. Cold-blooded? Not necessarily, but since it is more costly to get into something half-planned and spend your life trying to extricate yourself out of it than it is to refuse getting into it in the first place, a plan almost always works. Which leads to...
• After holding out so long, if the wish list is too tough or doesn't work, throw it out and start with a new game plan. My ate did this and I'll give it two years before I change my call as "toss-up." Just to be fair to both of them. I don't know exactly what her game plan was given her relationship choices over the last ten years and I didn't pry, but this move, though not exactly sudden, was unexpected and refreshing. I believe they will get along famously, but my natural skepticism creeps in on this one.
• Keep things simple. Man + woman = love, children, and careers. Begin with the end in mind, which is happiness for both of you. Naturally, one would suppose children is a natural part of the equation, but for some couples, maybe children shouldn't be the norm. In this day and age, the desire for progeny, while natural, isn't necessarily the best choice. Some couples really couldn't cut it as parents. And --- we can all do our part by helping keep the world population in check. As to careers, they just don't cut the mustard on the priority meter UNLESS they were what that brought the couple together in the first place. In this couple's case, careers play a more important role.
• Savor the journey. Hey, things may not work exactly like you planned, so get ready to suck it up to handle disappointment. We are all on borrowed time, anyway, so make the best out of every situation. As in every situation. Yup, this could be the toughest discipline to maintain.
• There is no formula to relationship success. I don't want to point out any specific people that I know because they will not be able to offer any defense, and besides, it's just my point of view (okay, stop the disclaimer already --- too defensive!). There is just isn't any way to intellectualize you and your partner to follow a specific plan outlined by the relationship experts. What I've learned in life is that there are no best practices, only best fit. If this is so with companies, more so for one-on-one relationships because they serve as the building blocks of all sorts of relationships. So, before you get frustrated that your partner isn't coming up to spec, it's not necessarily his or her fault.
• Back to the beginning --- relationships are about negotiation, giving and receiving concessions, and keeping commitments. Of course, in order to keep the relationship moving the partners should be hard enough on themselves as to the commitments they keep to themselves and to one another. The only exception to this and all the other things I've mentioned is that if they are happy and the life they are living is consistent with their own individual and shared values. That's how things will be measured in the end, anyway.

As to me, I also wonder about the inexactitude of attraction. Que sera, sera. She will either come around or not, or another may replace her, or not. I wish she would, because it feels right by me, but then again, in any relationship, however world-girding the unrequited passion may be, it is still unrequited, and the relationship score is ZERO.

That's the only exact score I have right now. Insh'Allah, we will score a few winning points in the next few days. As God wills.

Worshipping Beauty

One author once wrote that beauty is best appreciated by someone, who, upon seeing something beautiful and fully appreciating it, sees the gulf dividing him and it. The true worshipper is the one who gazes on from afar.

(Or so it goes. I can’t claim this to be my original idea, but I don’t want to do the writer any injustice by misquoting him terribly.)

I used to think of this as another aphorism. Now I know this to be true.

I am in love with beautiful things. They can range from the delicate asymmetry of seashells, the careful intricacy of mosaics, or the splash of color in an impressionist painting. I like the contrast of the parched earth and the burning sun, or the lacy contrails of lightning that herald the rain.

I marvel at the grandeur of architectural wonders --- the grandest ones I’ve been in have been the old churches that dot my native land, but I also am intrigued by simplicity by which the function becomes the form in well-designed edifices.

Some people say I have the gift of song. No, I politely disagree; I have been gifted to have listened to the songs of others. Or to have the space I inhabit imbued by the music to which my elders loved listening. I have been gifted to be able to know which music could be good and others which are great.

Most others believe I have the gift of words. I never disagree then; but only ask those who give praise to read and try to understand. As to the others who don’t read … I will cast whatever treasures I may to them. Only then could the cycle be complete, for true beauty can never be contained or truly possessed. It must be shared.

Which brings us now to the beauty of the human form --- yes, I certainly could use more of the kind of sultriness that speaks to humans on an animal level --- not just the one-boner, but certainly the two- or three-boner kind. (If you don’t have any understanding of this, just pretend you do… and no, I haven’t experienced beauty of a four-boner variety. My body just couldn’t hack it and I really don’t have that salacious bent that others have.)

But that’s just beauty that speaks only to one sense. I also see beauty that shines from within; something that illuminates the eyes or the gestures of people and make them transcend the boundaries of their bodies. I see this mostly in the eyes of truly devoted mothers, especially the ones who are deathly poor. The love they have for their children simply overwhelms whatever privation they are experiencing. It is nothing short of miraculous.

And what about the beauty that is forbidding, the one I spoke about in the beginning?

I talk about a “beautiful” person and something within that person’s eyes, movements, speech, exact words appeal to me in such a way that I feel awkward, oafish, misshapen, unwanted, unappealing. I am under no illusions as to how appealing a person I am; neither do I allow myself to be oppressed by those who judge me by my looks and find me wanting.

Still, I am overwhelmed by the thought of someone truly beautiful --- whose physical form is shaped by even more powerful forces within. They are a gift of God to the universe, and no matter how the person himself or herself is as imperfect as each of us mortals are, their own failure to realize themselves does not detract anything from the beauty with which they are imbued. In fact, such beauty is magnified by it because it is unadorned or at times unaware.

(Yeah, I am rambling.)

Such beauty then, affects me such that the heart races, and then STOPS.

I am ultimately overjoyed and yet find my own inadequacy soul-crushing.

The composer Rey Valera puts it another way --- such beauty is to be worshipped, not only loved. The Divine, in His complete understanding, cannot help but allow me this conceit for He has allowed such beauty to be its cause.

No matter if the one I behold twists me into a pitiful wretch, into a helpless puddle of protoplasmic slime. No matter if I, forever supplicant, would give in to each and every one of your endless and impossible demands. No matter, that I who have fallen into depravity, will sell my soul that you may quench its very life and leave my husk on some forgotten roadside.

No matter if I am just another step to another of your conquests, that you may lace my life with a slight smile that will burst my spirit into flame, and yet rending that same spirit with guilt of not doing as you please. Forever the memory of your face is imprinted into my brain, and if by some wicked turn of Pavlov you make me jump through hoops of fire or perform parlor tricks for your own amusement, I will go about such business in the most hangdog manner possible.

No matter if my fevered brain churns out words so desperately so that I could just make you keep on talking, that I may revel in whatever tale you spin, however inane or what’s worse, false.

I look at such beauty and only then do I comprehend the true meaning of despair. How can one such as I hold her close to me?

And yet, even one who despairs must harbor even the smallest drip, an iota, of hope. For such devotion, so long as it be true, can never be destroyed. It is the same promise for me that despite the hard road, no more can I reverse the flow of gravity than can I corrupt the meaning of such beauty.

Only God can do that. So I pray, just as I pray to Him, that even as I am betrayed by my own frailty, that He will lead me to my own designated shore, be it hers or some other’s. Though I am almost certain I will delude myself and break my heart again; it is just my nature that I will keep on doing so.

I have seen something, no, someone, truly beautiful and though I have just caught a glimpse of what she could be, I can only despair of how far apart we could be as people, just as I despair that in a few days I will fly away and be bereft of her presence for another year. Not even knowing what she would think. Or much worse, knowing that she can give no more than kind regards.

No one needs to cast auguries to see that this can be purgatory.

May it just lead me to Heaven someday.

(And you, you who have inspired this post, you must know who you are. I have no wish to deny what I feel for to be untrue to you is to be untrue to all that I hold true in myself, and all that I value. Yes, all of this can end badly, especially for me. Even so, hope springs eternal.)

Flips, Flops, Vindication

Willing Exile: I Still Believe

I've just been here in Manila for a few days and usual, feeling my way through is part of the fun as the real fun is. Usually.

Coming back to the house, I was assaulted by color overload! For those of you who have watched "Fools Rush In" remember what Salma Hayek did to the paint job of Matthew Perry's house? Something like that.

Everything feels so small. (Because you've gotten so big.) That's what everyone says. Remember that line where you are supposed to perservere no matter what people tell you. The thing is, oftentimes that's true.

Internet connectivity in the Philippines, is astoundingly SLOW, despite our economic managers' assertions to the contrary. Truth of the matter is, the quantity of Internet connections is not yet enough. The quality is also poor.

On the flip side though, I haven't really put in too much money into this whole Internet thing. It's a shame though that my folks had to abandon my old service (it was reliable, and I thought my created e-mail address would last forever). There is still some value in investing.

Just a few observations from my two weeks' stay here in the Philippines ---

Flop: The whole idea of the Da Vinci Code the movie.
Flip: I am now even cooler because I actually read the book before watching the movie.
Vindication: Someone out there is eating crow and it's not me.

Flop: The Miami Heat are down 0-2 in their series against Dallas. While I am not a supporter of each team (I'm a Celtics diehard), I do want to see Shaquille O'Neal get a measure of vindication over the Kobe business and his resultant landing in South Beach.
Flip: That they actually made it to the Finals in the first place. I like the Pistons, honestly; they were the better team, but after reading through several forums, they don't deserve their fans, and Ben Wallace's overrating has just skyrocketed.
Vindication: The Pistons just couldn't kick Larry Brown soon enough, and yeah, Rasheed had more to do with their success than they gave him credit for. And the NBA Finals aren't over yet, Shaq may just get his chance.

Flop: Manila humidity! It's a different creature altogether.
Flip: Just goes to show that there are more things to miss about one's home country. And yeah, it makes living in Saudi Arabia more bearable (and something to look for, I might add.)
Vindication: I somewhat feel a whole lot smarter moving out of the country when I did.

Flop: The power of regular commercial liquor. No real whooping power.
Flip: So what's the use of drinking? (Shudder).
Vindication: I can't think of something clever enough to say. Yeah, I've fried enough brain cells for an army-size luau.

Flop: The probablity of my becoming a hunk. (In the words of my buddy Des, "Asa pa you!")
Flip: That being said, it doesn't detract anything from my life.
Vindication: Having personality does pay off. Now, just to get some eligible woman to buy into this entire package...

Flop: Long-distance relationships.
Flip: I haven't gotten into a real one, so maybe I'm wrong.
Vindication: Jury is still out.

Flop: Rush wedding arrangements. Six months is not enough, especially if you're doing things by remote.
Flip: The seat-of-your-pants feeling is a great way to live life, sometimes.
Vindication: The presentation is one thing; it's the eating that really counts. All the best, Ate Joni and Alan.

Until next, I got to sign off and get some sleep. Chatting and blog-posting is something you can only do with a tip-top system and internet connection (complain, complain! yada, yada...)

Those Simple (But Not Really Simple) Things

Ramblings of a Certified Brat: Simple Pleasures of Life

This link is from Russel, whom I think should blog more often because she's so funny! We-ell, sometimes finding the humor in life is a greater gift than most would give credit for.

Instructions: Name ten of life’s simple pleasures that you like the most, then pick ten people to do the same. Try to be original and creative and not to use things that someone else has already used.

(Let's see if I can follow this to the letter.... I've done some lists of this nature, particularly my "Happiness Is..." series, but it's worth revisiting, anyhow).

1) Laughing out loud at the most nonsensical things, those kinds of laughs where I literally roll on the floor laughing or run the risk of having a heart attack. Twice the value if shared with a friend or a family member. And so on and so forth.
2) Music trips --- any kind will do, and the kind of trip where I get lost in the emotion of the piece and realize in the no-space of the climax what kind of inspiration the artist had. Works best with choral pieces or symphonies. Works least with heavy metal.
3) The same with the written word --- but mostly when I write something that someone says helped them or inspired them, and then reading it all over again and finding myself floored by my own work.
4) The quiet at the table during meals when everyone is in his/her moment, but mostly enjoying the food. Best when hanging out with family members I haven't been with for a long time.
5) Encountering a child for the first time and holding him/her in your arms.
6) The sweet thrill of having someone acknowledge me for who I am and not what I have accomplished (though the latter works, but not on the same elemental level).
7) Kicking back your shoes after a long day and not having to put up with anything else.
8) Solving the puzzle to a person with whom I would like to have a romantic relationship ("falling in love with love" is the more common term, I think, but mine carries less negative baggage)
9) Seeing hope in the sunrise after rending my heart into pieces over some imagined or real faults the previous night.
10) Having someone read this and answer back most expeditiously.

There are lots more, and in any case, finding a "top ten" to simple pleasures is like putting a price on things like the adoring trust a young child has in you. There is no price to that at all.

It's hard to pick ten people, so I'll send this to e-groups and see who responds. Comments back to this link, please!

Headlong To June

in(s)ane ramblings: This Week's Friday Five

Let's face it - I'm not getting anything significant done today or anytime soon. So I'll stop pretending and let my mind range onto other things.

The benefits of anti-depressant medicine - yeah, I'll get romping and stomping to finish each and every project assigned to me! Hahahahahaha! (more diabolical laughter in the background). Yup, even my own private jokes aren't that funny, so chuckling to myself isn't all that great either. *Sigh*

Rant for the day: F**ckin' Saudi banks and their f**ckin' inefficiency. Well, just one particular bank, whom I will not advertise since they don't deserve it. Yada, yada, loads of cash, no customer service initiative, faces of discrimination everywhere. And they do it even with their own citizens. Go figure!

I go this morning to the designated bank (branch of which is in the vicinity of our office) for encashing my vacation cheque and the system is down. The bank staff say that they have no clue as to when the system will be up and running; they tell me to run along to their Dammam branch to see if I can encash the cheque. A few minutes before midday I arrive at one of their Dammam branches and this bank's staff say the system would be up in 30 minutes' time; problem is they have broken time and won't open 'til four in the afternoon. So I return to the office and go back to the original branch. Which isn't really that bad, except their lines are notoriously long, it's baking out in the early afternoon sun, and I didn't have convenient land transportation (translation - walking out).

I dig the exercise, mind, but not the heat! Ruins my office-boy complexion, hahahahahaha! Turns out the system is down, likely for the entire f**ckin' day. Great --- just post a sign that says "This bank no do business because system crappy!"

Yummy Saudi meals - the many ways Middle Easterners cook their rice (something, I think, they picked up from the Indians) astound me. My tongue and taste buds, I mean. I bought a rice meal with half-a-chicken (two packs of it) and brought it back to the office to eat. Man, the rice tasted awfully good! However, the oily stuff got to me and that always does funny things to my stomach. Yup, I'm having a really fantastic, fantastic day.

At least there will be airport pick-up for me when I get home. I also got my passport and packed all my stuff for the air cargo to pick up later this evening. Guess I will have come to work tomorrow just to have my cheque encashed. Well, I'm pleased I got most everything I wanted today. Wished that I could have it all.

Rushing headlong to the month of June! First time in many years I've looked forward to this month --- for the longest time it was the month that school started, which meant the end of the summer vacation (and all its languor). Now, it's a welcome respite from the Middle East. Hope it will last longer and that I spend more quality time instead of boozing.

(Fat chance, meathead. And this is your conscience talking, buddy. You're weak, YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO WILLPOWER! No cojones! Grovel, you worm! Grovel and beg for release! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)

Linking now to one of my friends's sites and putting in my own contribution.

1) When you were little what was your favorite TV show(s)?
Sesame Street! Fraggle Rock! Most of the Saturday Fun Machine shows, but particularly Blackstar and Zorro. Dedicated Superfan of the Superfriends! Lots more really, like CHiPs, Three's Company, Benson, The A-Team, The Incredible Hulk.

2) What was your favorite movie?
Tough question. Watched too many - but going by viewing, "Transformers the Movie" (about 20 times, still remember 80% of the dialogue). Going by effect, "The Godfather."

3) What is your favorite TV show currently?
"24" and "CSI" (Original)

4) What is the best movie you have seen so far this year?
The only ones I've seen on the wide screen this year are "Mission: Impossible 3," "V for Vendetta," and "16 Blocks." The best ones I've seen on video are "Crash" (a mediocre movie, but o.k. enough) and "Brokeback Mountain" (overrated and overdone). The most fun I had is an oldie from five years back - "The 51st State."

5) If someone was going to make a movie or TV show about your life, who would play you and why?
It's tough to cast an actor to play me --- the closest would be Dinky Doo, Jr. and Bayani Agbayani. And they won't be able to pull it off, I think. I was once called a "Roderick Paulate" (still mystifies me to this day, though it still gives me the chuckles up to now) and no, I don't want him to play me either. ... Of course, that's assuming some idiot would want to put up money for my movie (tough chance!).

Latest Friday Five edition

Honey, I’m Home!

1. How many places have you lived in your life? - On a prolonged basis, four, and I've been in two places here in KSA. Been all over, but the rest is no more than two weeks at a time.

2. Which was your favorite and why and what street was it on? - Still the original - Saint Joseph Street all the way! Best memories of my life, still consider it home.

3. If you could live anywhere for the rest of your life, where would it be? - Beachfront property, possibly in Mindanao provided it's peaceful.

4. What would your ideal home have in it? - The "have to have" would be a well-equipped kitchen and a place to entertain people. It doesn't have to be loaded with all the other things but of course I prefer to stay connected with what's happening via Internet/satellite TV.

5. Can you describe your current crib? A minor disaster. Been planning to bring in new furniture but it seems I could hardly keep it fairly clean to deserve new fixtures, hehe.

In Praise of Beer...

You Are Heineken

You appreciate a good beer, but you're not a snob about it. You like your beer mild and easy to drink, so you can concentrate on being drunk. Overall, you're a friendly drunk who's likely to buy a whole round for your friends... many times. Sometimes you can be a bit boring when you drink. You may be prone to go on about topics no one cares about.

What's Your Beer Personality?

I Still Believe

paolo's pen: My two cents' worth on The Da Vinci Code

I normally shy away from religious topics. It's a no-brainer that you will reap the thunder everytime you bring it up and therefore it's a no-winner to even start a discussion.

Whenever some kind of religious content such as "The Passion of the Christ" two years ago or "Da Vinci Code" I am more apt to shut up than invite some form of discursive debate about the religious merits of said movies. Like discussions about politics, religious discussions can be really energy-sapping.

Now, I haven't really seen "The Da Vinci Code" and didn't think about the books of Dan Brown until some acquaintances who have illusions of being literati (as I do, incidentally, hehe) and most of my friends were raving about it. Shocker! Shocker! There is a hidden story in the life of Jesus Christ! There is a grand conspiracy behind the biggest business venture of all time! People should really come off it ---a little hurting is useful for a lot of learning. With all due respect, one source of our accepted history and world-view is not necessarily the best.

I've read a lot of the literature built into the history of the Church, including some of the liberation theory-inspired works that emphasize Jesus as a harbringer of social consciousness that echoes in the need for human development in the poor countries of this era. We even spent a whole deal of our Religion classes in the latter part of high school dealing with social and moral issues --- rather than pinning our minds to some of the absolutes.

I can spin as many yarns as possible on the true value of spirituality in making for good living --- as opposed to pursuing holiness for its own sake. Well, nobody did credit for me being one of the true believers, anyway. But I won't spin, not at all.

You see, if a thing of fiction like "The Da Vinci Code" insults you and offends you, then shoot, you can exercise your due right not to watch or read it. Do everyone a favor though, and get your information straight before shooting off your mouth. I can attribute the majority of this type of misunderstanding from pure ignorance. Boycott the movies of Tom Hanks, Ian McKellen, Ron Howard, and the production company. They're blasphemous, good heavens! We must rally to protect the faith! Suddenly, I find myself wanting to laugh out loud. The utter pretension of such do-gooders! If God is as rock-solid as you say you believe Him to be, He will find a way to work this out in the end.

Or, on the other hand, if "The Da Vinci Code" (the book, because I think the movie will be formulaic and passe) awakens you and disturbs you about your faith, it is prudent not to go overboard. A germ of doubt is always the seed of faith. Doubting is not the absence of faith. Rather, it is all about one's wanting to believe.

As for the atheists and the nihilists, I'd listen to you but I'll mince no words about it --- it's hard for me to care about what you have to say. I like science and the "religion of science," but deep down, I am still a believer.

I still believe in a true God who is not bound by the usual borders of our own conception. God is beyond sex, beyond race, beyond dietary practices. Since I have been immersed in the Christian mysteries, I choose to follow this path of enlightenment, and it's not for me to say whether a Muslim, Buddhist, or any other person of whatever creed is dead wrong. What I find most disturbing is that people anoint themselves as "guardians of the faith" and attack others for their different beliefs. If all of these absolute moralists are correct, then no one is bound to be saved. All of us will expect a Hell or its equivalent.

Earlier this year the Muslim world went up in arms over a lampoon. Could we Christians afford another kind of narrowmindedness?

Almost Friday

in(s)ane ramblings: may 19's friday five

I'm not really a member of their circle, but doing this is just as fun even if I know my friend Nikki's friends won't read my blog as regularly as they would read hers.

1. What type of mood are you generally in on a rainy day? - lethargic, sentimental, and if I'm with the right person, romantic.

2. What are your favorite things to do when the weather is gloomy?- curling up with a good book is the best. Having some warm soup. In the old days, burning the phone lines with someone.

3. Have you ever been kissed in the rain?- No, I did the kissing.

4. After the rain stops, do you continue what you were doing, or do you run outside to do something else? - Are you kidding? I'd rather stay where I was.

5. What is your favorite drink/food to have when it's raining outside?- The instant soups are always the ones available (sigh). Otherwise, La Paz batchoy with all the trimmings or steaming beef bulalo matched with some deep-fried hito or bangus. Wash it down with a little beer when I feel like it.

Yeah, I'm getting hungry just about now. (Shoot, you're always hungry, chief!)

Gut Check

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 45%

Well, you don't have the worst job in the world, but it's not great. And don't worry, you're not the problem - your company is. Start looking around for another job, even if you're not totally fed up. Because in time, you're going to be dying to quit!

Should You Quit Your Job?

Stricken

"It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of Sapho that thoughts acquire speed, the lips acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion."
-- the Mentat Piter de Vries

I spent the better part of Wednesday through Saturday trapped in the hospital nursing an acute case of gout. I guess I had it coming. I hadn't been taking good care of myself lately and with my mind focused on the "Otherness" of my vacation I wasn't paying attention to ME.

I had taken Sunday off as I had posted earlier but I couldn't shake off the hurting in my right foot. Meantime, I was apprehensive of self-medicating as both our Company medical policy and common sense were built-in restrictions. On Tuesday evening the throbbing was unbelievably painful I couldn't sleep. It wasn't a biggie on the Scale of Unbelievable Pain --- I haven't reached that state of physical pain for a long time --- but it was still painful, mein Gott!

Tuesday evening I loaded up on water --- lots of it --- to help relieve the pain. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate was my mantra. Problem was, every now and then I had to do number one and I had to drag my fat ass to the toilet on a bum foot. I had to sleep on the couch just to be able to manage the distance.

Finally I gave up. I lay back and thought of all the scenarios so that I could get to the hospital in one piece. My landlord (the leaseholder) and his family were all on vacation, leaving my other flatmate and I in charge of the apartment. I asked him eventually to bring me to the hospital at about 7 am. I was figuring that a little shot of painkillers from the ER would do me wonders and I could go merrily go on my way to work.

Secretly though, I knew that I couldn't have gone to work in my current state. Instead of the self-medication regimen, I decided to take advantage of our full-featured medical plan. Still, I've always hated the notion of going to hospitals even if the whole hospital experience was balanced out by seeing pretty nurses and/or doctors (the chances of the latter are slim here in KSA). The last time I was hospitalized was a life-changer: I could say that my life turned around beginning that last hospital stay in May 2001. Of course, backsliding, physical and emotional, happens once in a while, as evidenced by this latest bout of sickness.

Waiting time at the ER took almost five hours --- they got my blood work, x-rays of my right foot and my chest, even an ECG --- before the insurance company finally decided to admit me to the hospital, during which, to my dismay, all my plans of going to work and having a productive day were ripped apart.

It was noontime by the time I got to my room on the fifth floor of the hospital. The room was bright - it was facing the sea - but otherwise it was warm. Something must have been wrong with the ducting of the room or the a/c unit itself, since according to the nurses the temperature control was linked to that of the ICU. Since I didn't know I would be in the hospital for longer than usual, this didn't seem too bad to me in the beginning.

(Yeah, I know I regretted it...)

I'm familiar with the drill in hospitals - I've stayed long enough in hospitals as companion or as victim (ehem, patient) that I could go with the schedule and routine with my eyes closed (even if there are special conditions for each patient, the drill is still the same...). Blood tests as required. The butt injection. Intravenous nutrition (yummy!) as required. Getting yourself awakened by some nurse so that you can take your lousy medicine.

The things I hate most ---being immobilized by the IV and then having to take a dump or a piss, and clammy bedsheets! (Warm room + hospital bed + fever + medicine = sweat). And --- since I didn't wisely bring any clothes, I had to put up with the dressing gowns provided by the hospital. They gave me the large ones which were still a snug fit; I actually looked an Arab wearing those long hospital gowns. We-ell, give me an extra two or three inches of height I'd be a lot happier. Not because I won't look like an Arab.

About the only consolation I had was that the nurses were pretty and nice. I had one favorite in particular, but only insofar as I believe that she is still single. I'd keep that illusion going for the meantime. Plus, they have this notion that a private room means one is mudir or boss in the company. I'd like to believe I'm important to the Company, but not so much as being one of the bosses. Lots of extra money would do just fine, thank you.

The great thing also was that my friends really filled up the place while I was at hospital. However, it was only good for Wednesday evening since I expected to get out on Thursday (see my rant below). As of today, I'm still eating apples, oranges, and crackers that they provided. My boss said one time that being hospitalized becomes an exercise in self-pity. We-ell, yeah, but it never felt that way to me, since I was surrounded by people who cared.

Never get hospitalized close to the weekend over here, and if you do, guarantee an extended hospital stay. Now, I wouldn't want to knock the professionalism and the ability of my fine team of doctors (who spent a grand total of 20 minutes checking up on me during their various rounds), but this I know about the medical profession --- some doctors aren't just meant to be, but convention and family demands put them there. I really wish I would get some straight answers --- the group prognosis was an acute case of gout.

Say goodbye to those big portions of roast beef. Say goodbye (for the meantime) to caffeine and tea. Skip the sugar! Eat more fruit and vegetables! (on the side - say goodbye to drinking sessions, to treating yourself to pork, to oily fried meals, to stuffing yourself...)

Uh-huh, yak it up. As if I'm really listening. Shoot, I'm going to have a really lousy vacation.

But seriously, I don't want to be stricken again. Let me recite the mantra:

"It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by fruits and vegetables that fat becomes lean, the body gains fiber, the fiber the signs of weight loss. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion."

Until I backslide again and land in the hospital again, that is.

Vacation Mode

The mind refuses to acknowledge it, but I'm officially on vacation mode.

That's right, I don't want to work any more than I have to. It's not been a great week for me - after Dubai I was sickly and couldn't do more than usual. It's great that I'm teaching again and we're starting to do something for the play festival this September.

I felt crappy not greeting my mother on Mother's Day but after the trials of sending more money (again) back home for house repairs, I was decidedly smug. Not that I deliberately forgot, mind; it's just that I was lying back wheezing and coughing last Sunday so the thought of calling anyone was furthest from my mind.

Meantime, the bakery beneath our apartment burned another time in less than three weeks. The first one was actually dramatic (my flatmate and I actually had the chance to play heroes); this time the fire was puny and looked as if it were an act of vandalism. Expensive vandalism.

After the excitement of the TFC PopStar final and the Gloria visit Khobar life is back to its normal dullness. Yup, it can be that pathetic when the most exciting things to do are watching a hackneyed, formulaic contest and lining up to see the Merry Midget Mistress of Malacañang make mendicant promises. I did catch the "Band of Brothers" on DVD while recuperating (I still am now, my ankle is swollen and is absolutely murdering me).

The clock is now running... one month to go before my sister's wedding. I have all the reasons to be happy for her and intellectually this is something that is semi-ecstatic in nature. Deep down, of course, if I take it the wrong way it can be downright depressing.

Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!

What do I have to cheer for anyway?

Thoughts of the Just

The President of the Philippines dropped by Dammam last night, the last leg of her journey here in Saudi Arabia to shore up whatever support she has among OFWs as well as to work on some face-saving diplomacy. Oil discounts and promise of buffer stocks were negotiated, as well as pardon for over 200 condemned prisoners and runaway maids.

I can't help but say that she has succeeded. For good or for ill, she will stay in the saddle until 2010. Amid the clang of bells and the thundering of "righteous" anger, she has survived the vicissitudes of being a plurality President. She has staggered and has almost been unhorsed, but she soldiers on. I can't help but say BRAVO without any bitterness.

I cannot, however, abide the smugness of many of her supporters who conveniently gloss over her faults in search of "pragmatism," that her being an economist is the salve to "fix" whatever ails the Philippine economy. Before they crow about her success in turning things around, it hasn't exactly been her program that has driven such growth. One of my batchmates conveniently pointed out that the bull run in the Philippine Stock Exchange has been going on for the past three years. Hard to believe, maybe, as PSE's charts at http://www.pse.com.ph/ only go back for two years but he says that you can look up Philippines (PHI) at bigcharts.com - and one can conclude that there is a high run-up if PLDT is used as the surrogate indicator of Philippine stocks.

Speculation hovers about the war in Iraq as the start of such growth, as money once pumped into traditional investment markets now looks for second-tier markets such as the Philippines.

However, stripped of the fancy slogans and the proud drum-beating and self-preening of this administration, it is that success was reached despite the administration's utter lack of charisma, PR bungling, and consumer-oppressive policies. Or that this success is still being fueled by us, the exiles. She rightfully should court our support. Her continued stay in power depends on it.

Her policies, just like that of any President before her since Edsa, has served to deepen and widen the gap between rich and poor. Before she and her supporters claim to sleep the sleep of the just, let them think of primary causes.

Before her opponents continue with the cycle of blame, let them think of who are the real victims.

Rights don't mean a thing on an empty stomach. Economic progress means little if the poor don't share in it. And I don't mean just dole-outs or remittances - I mean for real, like having jobs and opportunities that help them escape the povery trap.

Until then, let no one claim "the sleep of the just" for in the clenches of poverty there can be no true justice.

QUOTES--->

The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration. ~ Pearl S. Buck

Meditation XVII by John Donne
from Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions

Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, morieris. Now this bell tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me and see my state may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that the church is catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does belongs to all.

When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that head which is my head too, and ingrafted into the body whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.

As therefore the bell that rings a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness. There was a contention as far as a suit (in which piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled) which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined that they should ring first that rose earliest.

If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery or a borrowing of misery, as though we are not miserable enough of ourselves but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbors. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did; for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction.

If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current moneys, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels as gold in a mine and be of no use to him; but this bell that tells me of his affliction digs out and applies that gold to me, if by this consideration of another's dangers I take mine own into contemplation and so secure myself by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

The Things We Miss

“Labing-isang buwan kang naghihirap dito tapos ang katapat mo lang ay maliit na hiwa….”

This topic has been a constant source of laughter in our service van on the way home. Men dealing with the difficulties of separation from their womenfolk 11 months out of each year – this is the burden so many of us have to go through just to get by in Saudi Arabia. During the mornings, the mood is often somber, as each man is lost to keep his own thoughts (or go back to sleep), traveling to another day of work which is no better than a prison.

At least prisoners can get the usual visit . . .

It is not unusual then, that living in Saudi Arabia breeds unusual variants of normal relationships you would find back home. The men here are more vocal of their emotions, are more in touch with themselves, and calling somebody a “friend” carries with it a deeper meaning. Finding a friend, though still a test of hit-and-miss, can be somewhat of a risk, too, but can have its own rewards.

By this criterion, there is no real stigma for a man to be homosexual here in Saudi Arabia, where he is less bound by convention, and maintain a family back home in the Philippines. It is even more usual that a man and a woman can have two separate family lives – one back home and another here, and with as many partners as possible.

(I can consider some guys to have all the luck. Some dickhead managed to get “married” to two women at separate times, only for both of them to find out the nasty truth when they were assigned to the same shift in just one hospital. And oh, he still maintained his own family back in the Philippines. The girls were deceived, but somewhat naïve, but I can only admire the guy’s “man-gina.” Such cojones on that asshole!)

And so on and so forth…women may have an easier time of keeping their legs crossed, but sometimes only with Filipinos --- if it comes to Arabs (Saudi or otherwise) or Westerners, it’s business as usual. Sometimes Filipinas can really go slumming and go out with Pakistanis, Indians, or (gulp!) Bangladeshis. That I had hoped Filipinas would be more virtuous was a given. That such a hope was so easily dashed to pieces is semi-tragic.

It’s not all about sex, mind. There is so much more than the communion of two bodies in finding a sense of belonging. For some, too, the idea of being desired by someone else is so addictive. Even the prospect of 24/7 porn television (captured free to air, just buy the kit for about SR700) is not enough to quench that kind of desire.

And… the prospect of an eternal boner saps your brain power and deludes you to a twisted sense of reality. Don’t ask me how and why. I know.

I once said in another forum it would be interesting to derive the metrics of the status of OFW families – how they handle the separation on the one hand and what values do the children develop as a result of it. Several years ago, our organization administered retreats to high school students in Lipa. An interesting statistic was that many of these kids were sent back to live with their relatives or with one parent (mostly the dad, since the mothers were mostly domestics in Italy). Imagine the adjustments they had to make.

Money flowing into their hands, and money does not solve the need in their hearts…

And so back to the “things” we miss. Do I miss sex? (Ummm… dumb question. Let’s pretend that never came up. Move on…). Mostly, it’s the idea of being with someone. The benefits that come with it, of course, are just, I hope, as pleasurable as they can be. As a bachelor, I am what you call “deprived.” Time will only tell if I become “depraved.”

All the same, I am proud to say: I confess to being repressed! Thank God for Filipinas and the Internet!

With many thanks to Jay’s Greatest Compilation, one site that is pushing the envelope to tantalize the viewer without getting blocked by the Saudi internet police! You rock, buddy!

By The River of Dreams I Still Wait

I'm horribly sentimental, but I hate to admit it. Who wants a sentimental goon, anyway? All those ladies who keep on saying verbal ability is something they want in a guy seem to overlook the fact that it's overrated when measured against old-fashioned good looks or masculinity.

I'm not fighting any truth over this. It just is. It's hormonal. It's the fundamental law of nature.

I spent nine days in Dubai, four days of which were for training, and most of the evenings and the rest of the other days were spent on R & R. One of my friends I met through my life here in Saudi Arabia has just been relocated to Dubai, while my sister is following her own dreams in this land as well.

In the beginning, I tried to keep track of my observations of Dubai so that I could write them here from a fresh perspective (we-ell, not really, since I vacationed a few days in Dubai last year too). All I could remark are some of the truths about people.

My sister is not what you may call a "spring chicken," and she has had her share of time on the relationship rollercoaster, some experiences of which I privately disapproved but tolerated since she was happy. She is getting married this June. I've made a few references to this in some of my previous posts, but since I haven't met her fiancee I couldn't say much.

Alan is not exactly what I think my sister is looking for - but then again, I'm in no position to judge. Still, he represents a rock of practicality and solidity that is so easy to appreciate, and if one is a woman, grow to depend upon. I have no doubt that he thinks of himself as the lucky one in the relationship, and maybe he is (actually, I believe all men are privileged to be in a loving relationship. It sure beats the animal longings of plain sex.). Even so, observing them together it appears to me that it's the opposite. Right now I can't explain why, but it just feels that way.

There is a vast desert - not only physical, but also emotional - here in the Middle East. I've been called cynical in my early incarnation as an adult, and even looking through the world through those younger eyes the measure on my cynicism meter is off the charts! I wish it could it be different, but that is just the way things are here. One just has to make the best of it.

In Dubai, the irony of it is more glaring as one would see the beauty of "progress" --- the marks of financial speculation and money laundering are everywhere. Where else can you find some model of unabated economic growth than in Dubai? The place is growing so fast the pace is downright scary. And yet, in this oasis of riches, what makes it possible is that so many talented human beings are being ground by difficult times. The more "pragmatic" ones check their morality on the airplane and leave it there --- wielding their lives as a stick in one fatal piñata game --- where the stick is actually a bludgeon. So here my sister found a love that she could call her own and something that she would like to build on for the rest of her life.

I recently read Paulo Coelho's "By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept" (there was enough time in my sojourn to Dubai for me to read) and I finally understand why it has so much power to move so many people looking for answers.

I'm afraid that it's not the answers that bind me and stultify me, but the questions that arise when I look at my life and where I am going. It's not that I'm unhappy. I'm looking for signs that all of this, all of this meandering, all of the smoke-and-mirrors, is real, and that my life as it is means so much more than the alternative.

Is it too selfish to have all that I have and dare to dream of one love, a love which has so far eluded me or I have sent away?

Own Version

in(s)ane ramblings: friday five

I'm responding to Nikki's post (she's really pouring her heart and soul into her blog, typical of a newbie), and since I'm just clearing my desk of papers dating from last week before I left for Dubai, it's not such a bad idea.

1.) Do you like your birth-name? Why?
— Yes. When I was younger, "Joseph Angelo" was the only one that stood out in our family since everyone received mostly Spanish-sounding names. It didn't feel right to me then. Now I like it just as it is.

2.) If you could change your name to anything else, what would it be?
— Tough one. I never really thought about it, though there was one time I wrote down about 20 other names on my test paper after I read that one guy had a name for every letter of the English alphabet. I once wanted to have "Steve," "Mark," "Richard" or some other name of some cartoon hero when I was younger. Now, if it helps at all, the name I'd like would be Brad Pitt.

3.) What names would you consider giving your children?
— I'd rather my prospective wife choose the names, since the children would have my last name as part of their name forever. I even thought of having every child with the first name "J" just like for our family. The names I would pick would be: Boys -Conrado, Felipe, Victor, Joaquin, Emmanuel; Girls - Margarita, Catalina/Katrina, Christina, Victoria (naturally, yes?), Carmela. For the girls, it's easier because one of them should be named after my wife, her mother or my mother.

4.) If you had a band, what would you name it, and why?
— The first name I thought of was "Zaxxon Magma" but that was way back in the 80's. My buddy Des thought of the name "Pots and Pans" for a vocal group some ten years ago. Now I'd pick the band name from my blog title.

5.) Is there a name that you completely hate? Why?
— None I could think of. I haven't hated somebody with that amount of passion. As for my name, some classmate called me "Baby Gopher" (derived from my name, but I forget the reason why) and another "Josephus," while still another "Peto." These are the only times I hated somebody making a play on my name. "Joey" and "Joe" are tolerable nowadays. Also, I hate anyone trying to make nice with me by using my nickname when I hardly know them.

Ill Will, 2

There are succinct reasons why I did not post for the past few days, mainly because of the distractions in Dubai, but mainly because posting from here in Dubai isn't as easy.

I've had the opportunity to think about the ill will and the inherent parochialism of many Filipinos. It wasn't really my fault that something happened to the CD.

Dagger looks were the order of the day right from the occurrence. It was just something I knew I would never live down, and by extended effect, the whole of our organization. The contender's mother was on the lookout from thereon in the program, to see if any other shenanigans would occur. But of course by that time the worst was over and it was pretty much smooth sailing. Still, the crowd would have probably killed me on the spot had the worst happened. No, they probably wouldn't have killed me, but I just narrowly missed being lynched.

(It feels sort of "cool" to be the subject of a lynching. At least somebody cares enough with a passion to want to hurt you. It's a twisted feeling, and it behooves me well not to dwell on it.)

The judges had a twist in the announcement of the winners. The contenders were grouped into clusters of three. The first three names to be announced were those who were disqualified - I had expected Camille not to make it - but I know she is still young and good things may happen to her yet. That's the beauty of this entire process - she lives to fight another day.

Then the names of the three qualifiers were called out - and when the first name called was Jasmine's, the entire house went down. Even the neutrals were won over by her sweetness and charm. It is because of this fact that I believe she just has to watch herself and train well - the Riyadh crowd will, I hope, see her as the way we see her. Then Kim's name was called, to raucous cheers. There was, however, some derision because the first name called wasn't hers, even though the judges had patently made clear that the order of the announcement of the names did not follow any specific pattern. In any case, the scores wouldn't matter come the next round in Riyadh because they start from zero.

Finally it was down to the last name - and after a few tense moments, Alma's name was called. I was already betting on Tim or one of the other contestants, Ariel G. (a great vocal talent but not really a "Pop Star"). She too had a large gallery, and the cheering nearly brought down the house too.

All in all, except for that unfortunate incident, it was a great evening.

The fathers of the two qualifiers almost came to blows following the show. I admire their devotion and all, but I believe they are sending the wrong message to their daughters. Come on, no rivalry is worth it! There is some history to this --- our group began because of the dissatisfaction of the parents over the perceived (which was eventually validated as actual) discrimination by which Kim's father and voice coach applied to his students. Under his system, only his favorites were given the opportunities to grow. So eventually the parents who came to form SPA left his group to form their own (just about the same time I arrived in KSA, which was a blessing to all concerned). The charge of favoritism was finally validated with the opening of the TFC contest. The vocal coach refused to train any of his other charges who joined the contest - and two others qualified, Jasmine being one of them. The other went home to the Philippines for vacation and pulled out of the contest.

Now, as to the politics of this situation, I pretty much have no comment since I hardly know any of the parents personally. It's just surprising (and alarming) that Kim's mother wanted to seek me out and hunt me down for my perceived wrongdoing. I have no complaints with the handling of our organization of the entire matter, but even so, the rivalry, if at all, should be downplayed. There is enough room, and enough "business" for us to do our own community work. If at all, we should be exchanging information and sharing best practices.

I do, however, have some reservations since I trust my fellows in their perception that Kim's father is into the vocal training just for the money, and not much value-added at that. I'd like to meet him and share views with him on this, but I'm afraid it would be hard to give him that chance since I'm not much of a "glad-hander" to win him over, and I'm pretty certain he wouldn't do the same for me, either.

One part of me mourns this turn of events. Why do we have to persist in this kind of parochialism? Ennui? A need to compete? Genuine antipathy? And these are not even our day jobs! That's why I feel so sad that any ill will has to exist, and that I have to be party to its kindling. I would have hoped to build more bridges rather than burning them down.

I'm sorry that such a thing had happened under my watch, and if there's anything to blame, it is that we have put too much trust in technology when all of us knew that Murphy's Law grows geometrically with the introduction of more technology.

As to any lynching campaign, all I can say is: BRING IT ON! There is some good karma to have such notoriety. The lynched are also called another word. They are called saints.