Mitts Down, for now

Willing Exile: Acts in Prose

I'm posting a song that has among the best hooks in pop music - "Until I Hear It From You" by the Gin Blossoms from the soundtrack of the 1995 movie "Empire Records." The movie is significant to me because there were two smokin' hot babes in it, namely Liv Tyler and Renee Zellweger (really slutty in this piece, but she fit the bill well, plus Robin Tunney, but no-uh) many of the movie's themes --- asserting one's identity, keeping it real through the music, encapsulated my state of mind.

UNTIL I HEAR IT FROM YOU
Robin Wilson / Jesse Valenzuela / Marshall Crenshaw

I didn't ask
They shouldn't have told me.
At first I laughed, but now
It's sinking in fast
Whatever they've sold me.

Well, baby ---
I don't want to take advice from fools.
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you.(...hear it from you)

It gets hard -
The memory's faded.
Who gets what they say
?It's likely they're just jealous and jaded.

Well, maybe . . .
I don't want to take advice from fools.
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you.(...hear it from you)
Until I hear it from you.(...hear it from you)

I can't let it get me off
Or break up my train of thought.
As far as I know nothing's wrong
Until I hear it from you.

Still thinking about not living without it.
Outside looking in.
Still talking about not stepping around it.

Maybe . . .

I don't want to take advice from fools
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you . . .(. . . hear it from you)
Until I hear it from you . . .(. . . hear it from you)
Until I hear it from you . . .(. . . hear it from you)
Till I hear it from yo-ou

(Won't take advice from fools)
(I'll figure everything is cool.)

I guess for now I don't have to struggle until I hear the news FOR REAL --- apparently the memorandum that I'm a Grade-A jerk making the rounds hasn't gotten to me yet. Oh well, it's not so much as its truth would hurt me, but that I'll start believing it myself.

So mitts down, for now, and if that knockout punch comes... well, OUCH!

Spacey

Saturn's moon Rhea has rings

When a finger points to the moon, the imbecile looks at the finger. --- Chinese proverb

Bruce Lee makes a similar point to his young student in the prologue of his smash movie, "Enter the Dragon." It was this movie, plus Jacky Chan's "Snake in the Eagle's Shadow," both of which I watched together with my father, that really got me hooked with kung fu movies. The occasions were made all the more special because it was just my brother and me watching with him, back in the day when the Recto cinemas were really "theaters" in the old sense of the word and yes (and I'm dating myself here), they were still the places to go to. The vertical signs of the moviehouses blared out their names while the elaborate hand-painted billboards (replicas of the movie posters) provided a splash of color.

Fernando Poe, Jr. was THE movie star, with a strange aura of invincibility, and seeing him 20 feet tall bedecked with six-shooters was a sight to behold. I wonder if this trade, which would be a major piece of Filipino folk art, has survived, now that printed billboards are more or less du jour in Metro Manila.

Old downtown Manila, and those moments with my parents, remain powerful memories. There were those afternoons in Binondo when we would go to the old Ma Mon Luk - the delightful pungent smell is almost inexplicable but it would tell you whether the restaurant was "authentic" or not. Divisoria was a virtual warren of stores where any bargain can be found. I didn't appreciate going there, really (I was, or rather still am, hateful of long waits during shopping.) But it always paid off to pester my mother after she was finished with shopping - there's a quick reward of hopia somewhere or better yet, ice cream.

Speaking of which, the old Magnolia plant along Aurora Boulevard and its diner-style ice cream house was a great place to bring the kids or to have a date. I almost always ordered an "Ernie & Bert" sundae even though as a child I hated strawberry ice cream. I was always Ernie, and my brother was Bert. (I wouldn't even want to think about the rumor of them being gay.) Broadway Centrum was chic, if a bit small, and the sight of trees along Gilmore and Hemady, or even along Ortigas, almost always conveyed a sense of tranquility and stateliness. I rather envied those people who had their homes there -not because their houses were big, mind you, but that they were surrounded by nature.

.... And on and on and on and on. And on.

Seeing the world with wonder is a privilege for children ... one of my pet fascinations then was space (finally, a relation to our link!). I loved everything about space. I had my share of playing with spiders and mucking about in the dirt like other kids, but I would rather have laid down beside the glossy pictures of planets, astronauts or whatnot. I read up on Cassini, Herschel, Galileo, even bothered memorizing the history of Pluto's name (from Percival Lowell, the scientist who predicted its existence).

I even dreamed one day that I would join NASA. Or perhaps find a way to communicate with alien races.

Well, life has progressed in its own fashion, and I am nowhere near being a space agency, much less the scientifice profession - what I loved about science was the romance of discovery but not so much the discipline of achieving the result (my artistic temparament getting the better of me). But there is still that romantic notion that OUT THERE the delicious, unlimited UNKNOWN would defy any sort of explanation of what we have here in daily life, on dreary perfunctory Earth.

Space has a way of humbling one - that one's existence is but a nanoportion of the iota of the infinitesimal space our solar system occupies in the Milky Way, which is again one of many galaxies in the universe. Of which we know.

New discoveries here in what is virtually in our neighborhood in the galaxy serve up a reminder that all is not lost, that perhaps all those hours devoted to telescopes and sending probes to space would give us a clue to the machina, to the design of the symmetry/asymmetry of what we know is life. This one in particular just touched another space within my heart --- that of the younger me still floundering about, enraptured by the wonder of life.

There is of course, the current me, all worn out in some places and finding it convenient to be cynical and jaded, though I have no right to be. Not when I have a decent living, eat three squares (sometimes, ehem, oft-times more) a day, and manage to have a peaceful sleep at night.

Out there, there are answers to questions we yet have to phrase. If we keep that sense of wonder, of hope, of joy in unlimited possibility, maybe there is hope for us after all.

The OFW Wake

ADB doubts RP can sustain economic growth - INQUIRER.net

Some reading just heading into the last remaining hours of our rest days and the weekend for the rest of you out there.

While it has been quoted as to make it as trite as the tritest of cliches can be, the relationship between the size of remittances from outside the Philippines and its economic health cannot be underestimated.

Let's be fair and honest with ourselves. I don't want to go into that oft-quoted survey sometime ago that at least one-fifth of the Filipino population would prefer to leave the country. It's not necessary for me to quote that, when our collective gestalt has been brainwashed that succeeding outside our shores, against foreign standards, is several times better than succeeding on our own.

It's the success of Filipino A performing in award-winning foreign musical that gets our kudos. Never mind if Filipino A's talents pales in comparison with the plethora of talent we have back home. Just no breaks, really.

It's Filipino B graduating with a degree from Harvard University who is being awarded intellectual wattage - an opportunity, I'm sure, made possible by the fact that his parents were able to afford to send him there. I'm not blaming the parents, nor the student, or blaming anyone, but it doesn't mean Filipino B is any better than the graduate from our own homegrown educational institution.

It's the mestiza/mestizo phenotype occupying our notions of physical beauty.

It's the literati ooh-ing and aah-ing over the latest foreign bestseller and not being troubled by the fact that little impact has been made by any major Filipino author either in our local scene or worldwide in the last twenty (or I daresay forty) years. Or that where excellence is recognized, few Filipinos get to appreciate this excellence (that is, if they ever hear the news) - either they can't afford the books, or much worse (and most probably true), they don't have the inclination to read.

It's molding and shaping our physical environment, where we can, to a First World ideal when we haven't built enough classrooms, irrigated enough fields, saved enough forests.

It's promoting a culture of communication through SMS but not developing and nurturing the skills (and the responsibility) that are really needed.

Filipinos want to leave the country to experience foreign sights, earn foreign money, spend dollars and showing off how fun it is to touch snow. That is not an ignoble aspiration. But we needn't build our futures on that belief. Before I left for the Middle East, I looked down at the people who scrambled queueing to become OFWs. Now that I am here, I empathize with those like me who are separated from the land and people we love.

The Philippines is breeding mediocrity, and left in the OFW wake is that we have failed to build our country in the image of what we want it to be.

In the beginning, I was sorry for leaving the Philippines and was ashamed of "selling out." Now, I am just sorry. On the one hand, there are those who have succeeded in making a life for themselves, have helped their families, and are providing opportunties for their children to be potentially better than they are. On the other, there are those who are just relieved to be away from the wreck they see the Philippines to be, and would find every opportunity to disassociate themselves from being Filipinos.

There are those in varying degrees in between.

What is presented before is a quandary - OFWs represent the greatest potential for social and economic change for the country --- both human and financial. But our absentee voting system doesn't work, we don't have any major political figure advancing our agenda, and for all their good intentions, our primary organizations that receive national attention have been hijacked by the radicals, both from the Right and the Left for their own agenda. Try naming any moderate OFW organization and you will be hard-pressed to find one.

What we have essentially, in the Philippines is a factory where workers are created, off to contribute to the success of other countries, while the oligarchs in our country suck out the dollars we indirectly send to them through the local spending of our families. But one day, in their greed, these people will invariably kill the goose that laid the golden eggs.

And where will we be then?

Sun is Good!

Promise of sunshine stirs an Arctic town - International Herald Tribune

Well, yeah, if it were up North. Spring is here in KSA, probably the most pleasant time of year. But after that brief period, sun definitely no good.

After, Again

This is after all, a different context, but here goes...

The big inter-faith rally went down and did SQUAT in promoting the idea that change will be good for the country. Sending the wrong message by putting Cory Aquino and Erap Estrada together. The message just got hijacked by all the politicking...

The Armenians are showing us again how to wake up civil unrest. You go, people! The Israelis and Palestinians have demonstrated just why eugenics may just be a good idea --- if their shooting each other doesn't wipe out each other first....

The second batch of salary increases have been laid to bed and now people are complaining about their increases. It would have been great to lay some smackdown and slap people around for being plain stupid. Pity the fool who messes with me! And then smile for the folks who come in, "Sir, please help me..."

The Oscars have come and gone. Shoot, I miss good movies. I think a part of my heart got ripped out when I started living here. Some parts have grown back, but good movies do play their part...

So I'm moving to a new flat. Canvassing for this and that. Everything has gotten so expensive. After several years of working here, the real value of my earnings has only gone up 20%, but everywhere prices are rising...

Wishing I can get my hands on my own car! Uh-uh, no finances yet.

Wishing for some downtime back in the Philippines.

Wishing I'm no longer in love with her. Well, just wishing. This too, will pass.

And on we go again....

So You Won't Feel Shortchanged...

Willing Exile: Second Milepost

This song is just too good to pass up, so I've used whatever re-learning on posting stuff from Imeem.com (a boon to music fans, really) to bring it back...

Random gross-out moment - The third "rule of conduct" of Muslims for eating is to place food on a sufra on the ground - namely to emulate the Prophet (peace be upon him). It is du jour to see an ordinary cement slab in one corner of eateries striving to attract Saudi customers, decked out with carpets and cushions ---

I was buying grilled chicken take-out the other night when I observed one fellow getting ready to eat his meal. He dutifully washed his hands (the second "rule of conduct"), hunkers down on the carpet and picks a cushion to lean on, takes off his sandals, spreads the chicken and rice on the plastic covering ... check, check, and check. While talking into his phone, he picks at some toe jam with his right hand, flicks the grime carelessly, and then HE PICKS AT HIS FOOD with the same hand!

Just too much!

Taking credit, ehem! - One of my students's blog posts with a quote. Did I really mean what I wrote there? Hmmm ... sometimes having a brain fart produces gems of inspiration, at least for other people. It's to her credit she's deriving some crazy wisdom from whatever it is I wrote. I just had the words as an open door, she crossed through it and learned something for herself (way to go, girl!).

(Edit: replacing the Imeem links with YouTube)

Witness to a Passion Play

This is an interesting quote that Google put up, but it does capture many of my sentiments on the NBN-ZTE issue:

"If moderation is a fault, then indifference is a crime."--- Jack Kerouac, American novelist

We are undergoing another Passion, the Passion of summoning the collective will of the decision-makers and the people, to get the current government to step down and clear the way for democratic reform.

We are still in a painful process of learning. The Cory administration made a grand show of going after the Marcos cronies, sequestering their properties and restoring property to their rightful owners. But the government failed to successfully prosecute the Marcoses, made too many midnight deals and spawned its own coterie of sycophants and hangers-on. Truly, the revolutionary of today is the conservative tomorrow.

The Ramos administration's catchphrase was building the Philippines and moving it forward, an effective disguise for the politics of accommodation that permeated all its corners. Result - the new order of corruption, with the old cadre of Marcos loyalists fully rehabilitated, the Coryists scattered to make their own side deals, and the rest a barometer to where money and political expediency would dominate. So many would misinterpret the result as a success --- but it did point out that more and more, the Presidency was a chip to be bargained for, the talisman and gateway to power for the bearer.

Then came President Erap - whose only crime was being untrue to his upper-class beginnings. Here was a personality who truly understood the hoopla of politics --- and was a realist in living the life without the benefit of cordon sanitaire. The result --- the media had a field day, while his lieutenants squabbled over, as it seems later on, just mere pickings of the huge pie of graft and corruption.

A sad sacrifice, but a necessary one. If only he were not pardoned.

That pardon, among many other sad events that have happened during the Macapagal-Arroyo regime, has brought us full-circle to the questions that hounded us before the onset of Martial Law --- to submit to "pragmatism" and continue what is, in effect, a "benevolent" dictatorship, or to rebuild, where answers are still wanting?

The surfacing of Jun Lozada as a key witness to corruption should be the culmination, instead of just another story, just another by-line. I cannot fault those who support Gloria because there is no alternative --- they are pragmatists of one type, the one that claps at circus bears and dolphin shows, without being a party to the cruelties that go hand in hand with such shows. I deplore the fence-sitters. As for the GMA supporters and apologists, well, it's your turn now. See you at the reckoning, which I believe would come.

There is no excuse for "moderate corruption." And still less for indifference among our people.

To end this kilometric post, just sharing with you the homily of Fr. Manoling Francisco, SJ for witness Jun Lozada, last February 17, at La Salle Greenhills.

RECLAIMING OUR HUMANITY

On this Second Sunday of Lent, during which we are asked to reflect on the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ, I wish to touch on three themes that have to do with our moral transformation as a people: first, Ascertaining Credibility; second, Rediscovering our Humanity; and third, Witnessing to the Truth. In so doing, I hope to invite all of you to reflect more deeply on how we, as a nation, might respond to the present political crisis in which our identity and ethos, our convictions and integrity, in fact, who we are as a people, are at stake.

I. ASCERTAINING CREDIBILITY

Jun, as Sen. Miriam Santiago has grilled you to ascertain your credibility (or was it to undermine your credibility? ), allow me to raise some important questions to consider in the very process of discerning your credibility. Allow me to do so by drawing on my own counseling experience.

Very often, a young rape victim initially suppresses his or her awful and painful story, indeed wills to forget it, in the hope that by forgetting, he or she can pretend it never happened. But very often, too, there comes a point when concealing the truth becomes unbearable, and the desperate attempts to supposedly preserve life and sanity become increasingly untenable.

At this point the victim of abuse decides to seek help. But even after having taken this step, the victim, devastated and confused, will tell his or her story with much hesitation and trepidation. It should be easy to imagine why. In telling the truth, one risks casting shame on himself or herself, subjecting oneself to intense scrutiny and skepticism, and jeopardizing one's safety and those of his or her loved ones, especially when one dares to go up against an older or more powerful person.

Similarly, it is easy to imagine why Jun would initially refuse to challenge the might of Malacanang. Who in his or her right mind would accuse Malacanang of crimes against our people and implicate the First Family in a sordid tale of greed and corruption, knowing that by doing so, one endangers one's life and the lives of his or her loved ones? We are, after all, living in dangerous times, where the government has not hesitated to use everything in its power to keep itself in power, where it has yet to explain and solve the numerous cases of extra-judicial killings.

But Jun is in his right mind. His story rings true especially in the face of the perils that he has had to face. And by his courage, Jun has also shown that it is not only that he is in his right mind; his heart is also in the right place.

Hence, my personal verdict: Jun, I believe that you are a credible witness. And if hundreds have gathered here this morning, it is probably because they also believe in you. Mga kapatid, naniniwala ba kayo kay Jun Lozada? Naniniwala ba kayo sa kanyang testimonya? Kung gayon, palakpakan po natin ang Probinsyanong Intsik, si Mr. Jun Lozada.

Jun, we hope that by our presence here, you may find some consolation. Pope Benedict XVI writes that "con-solatio" or consolation means "being with the other in his or her solitude, so that it ceases to be solitude." Jun, be assured that your solitude is no longer isolation as we profess our solidarity with you. Hindi ka nag-iisa. We are committed to stay the course and to do our best to protect you and your family and the truth you have proclaimed.

II. REDISCOVERING OUR HUMANITY

What makes Jun a credible witness to us?

I think Jun is credible not simply by virtue of his being an eyewitness to the unmitigated greed of some of our public officials. Perhaps more importantly, Jun is credible because he has witnessed to us what it means to be truly human.

Which leads me to my second theme: What does it mean to be human? How might we rediscover our humanity?

Allow me to quote Pope Benedict XVI, who in his latest encyclical, Spe Salvi, has written: "the capacity to accept suffering for the sake of goodness, truth and justice is an essential criterion of humanity, because if my own well-being and safety are ultimately more important than truth and justice, then the power of the stronger prevails, then violence and untruth reign supreme. Truth and justice must stand above my comfort and physical well-being, or else my life becomes a lie. . . For this … we need witnesses—martyrs …. We need them if we are to prefer goodness to comfort, even in the little choices we face each day."

Our Holy Father concludes, "the capacity to suffer for the sake of the truth is the measure of humanity."

Isn't this the reason we emulate our martyrs: Jose Rizal, Gomburza, Evelio Javier, Macli-ing Dulag, Cesar Climaco and Ninoy Aquino? They have borne witness for us what it means to be truly human—to be able to suffer for the sake of others and for the sake of the truth.

I remember Cory recalling a conversation she had with Ninoy while they were in exile in Boston. Cory asked Ninoy what he thought might happen to him once he set foot in Manila. Ninoy said there were three possibilities: one, that he would be rearrested and detained once more in Fort Bonifacio; two, that he would be held under house arrest; and three, that he would be assassinated.

"Then why go home?" Cory asked.

To which Ninoy answered: "Because I cannot allow myself to die a senseless death, such as being run over by a taxi cab in New York. I have to go home and convince Ferdinand Marcos to set our people free."

Witnessing to one's deepest convictions, notwithstanding the consequences, is the measure of our humanity. Proclaiming the truth to others, whatever the cost, is the mark of authentic humanity.

Jun, we know you have feared for your life and continue to do so. But in transcending your fears for yourself and your family, you have reclaimed your humanity. And your courage and humility, despite harassment and calumniation by government forces, embolden us to retrieve and reclaim our humanity tarnished by our cowardice and complicity with sin in the world. You have inspired us to be true to ourselves and to submit to and serve the truth that transcends all of us.

III. WITNESSING TO THE TRUTH

This leads us to our third and last theme: witnessing to the truth. In his encyclical, Pacem in Terris, Pope John XXIII exhorts that it is the fundamental duty of the government to uphold the truth: "A political society is to be considered well-ordered, beneficial and in keeping with human dignity if it grounded on truth." Moreover, the encyclical explains that unless a society is anchored on the truth, there can be no authentic justice, charity and freedom.

Every government is therefore obliged to serve the truth if it is to truly serve the people. Its moral credibility and authority over a people is based on the extent of its defense of and submission to the truth. Insofar as a government is remiss in upholding the truth, insofar as a government actively suppresses the truth, it loses its authority vested upon it by the people.

At this juncture, allow me to raise a delicate question: At what point does an administration lose its moral authority over its constituents?

First, a clear tipping point is the surfacing of hard evidence signifying undeniable complicity of certain government officials in corruption and injustice, evidence that can be substantiated in court.

Hence, during the Marcos Regime, the manipulation of Snap Election results as attested to by the tabulators who walked out of the PICC was clear evidence of the administration' s disregard for and manipulation of the collective will of the people in order to remain in power.

During the Erap Administration, the testimony of Clarissa Ocampo, claiming that Pres. Erap had falsified Equitable Bank documents by signing as Jose Velarde, was the smoking gun that triggered the rage of our people.

Allow me to respond to the same question by pursue an alternative track of argument: an administration loses it moral authority over its people when it fails in its fundamental duty to uphold the truth, when it is constituted by an ethos of falsehood. When a pattern of negligence in investigating the truth, suppressing the truth and harassing those who proclaim the truth is reasonably established, then a government, in principle, loses its right to rule over and represent the people.

Regarding negligence: Do the unresolved cases, such as the failed automation of the national elections, the fertilizer scam, the extra-judicial killings, and the "Hello, Garci" scandal, constitute negligence on the part of the GMA Administration to probe and ferret out the truth?
Regarding covering-up the truth: Does the abduction of Jun Lozada and the twisting and manipulation of his narrative by Malacanang's minions constitute concealment of the truth? Was the padlocking of the office of Asst. Gov't Counsel Gonzales who testified before the Senate regarding the North Rail project anomaly an instance of covering-up the truth?

Regarding the suppression of the truth: Does the issuance and implementation of E.O. 464, which prevents government officials from testifying in Senate hearings without Malacanang's permission, constitute suppression of the truth? Was the prevention of AFP Chief of Staff Gen. Senga and six other officers from testifying before the Senate with regard the "Hello, Garci" scandal tantamount to a suppression of the truth? Was disallowing Brig. Gen. Quevedo, Lt. Col Capuyan and Lt. Col. Sumayo from appearing before the Lower House an instance of hindering the truth from surfacing?

And regarding harassment of those who proclaim the truth: Are the abduction of Jun Lozada and the decision to court-marshal Gen. Gudani and Col. Balutan for disregarding Malacanang's order not to testify before the Senate examples of punishing those who come forth to tell the truth?

By conflating one's responses to all these questions does one arrive not at hard evidence showing culpability on the part of some government officials, but a gestalt, an image which nonetheless demands our assessment and judgment. I invite all of you then to consider these two methods of evaluating and judging the moral credibility of any government, the moral credibility of our present government.

Allow me to end with a few words about an Ignatian virtue, familiaritas cum Deo. To become familiar with God involves the illumination of the intellect, coming to know who God is and what God wills. But it also involves the conversion of the affect, the reconfiguration of the heart. Becoming familiar with God entails transforming and conforming my thinking, my feeling and my doing in accordance to the Lord's, which can only be the work of grace.

Familiarity with God thus entails rejoicing in what God delights—the truth; abhorring what God detests—falsehood; being pained by what breaks the heart of God—the persecution of truth-seekers. Familiarity with God means sharing the passion of God for the truth and the pathos of God whenever the truth and the bearers of truth are overcome by the forces of the lie.

On this Second Sunday of Lent, as we contemplate the transfiguration of Jesus Christ on Mount Horeb, we pray that our hearts and minds be so transfigured and so conformed to the mind, heart and will of the Jesus, our way, our life, and our truth.

May the Lord bless and protect you, Jun, and your family. May the Lord bless and guide us all into the way of truth. Amen.

Song Trip, of Sorts

A tribute to the season - am a bit half-hearted since this I am not in the state of mind nor is this the country for Valentine's. A classic from Minnie Ripperton.

So you ask me what do I see
When I look into your eyes
I see things that have never existed before

Shall I tell you all that I find
In those beautiful eyes -- I can try
But it never existed before

The silvery moon... a walk in the park
The tunnel of love... a kiss in the dark
The light of the stars... the clouds in the sky
The fireworks on the fourth of July

And you ask me what do I hear
When you whisper my name
Music plays that has never existed before

Oh, and I don't know why
But it's there just the same
And it's plain that it never existed before

The song of the rain ... the flowers in spring
The wind in the willow trees murmuring
The laughter that falls ... the children at play
Like church bells that call all the people to pray

So you ask me why do I glow
Well, I think you should know
I'm in love and I never existed before

(Instrumental)

So you ask me what do I see
When I look in your eyes
I see things that have never existed before

Shall I tell you all that I find
In those beautiful eyes --- I can try
But it never existed before

Oh, why do I smile
When I dream in the night
Hold me tight, and you'll hear my heart beating for more

And if we touch
I, I love it so much
I'm in love and I never existed before

Ooohhh... I'm in love, and I've never. I've never, I've never ...
Never never never never...

(Edit: replacing old Imeem links with YouTube)

Magnitude

Subscribing to a particular world-view demands a challenge from most people. Then again, just watching events go by, with the usual horn-blaring from the media, would be enough to daunt anyone. Possibilities are everywhere, but life can surprise you even so.

It's all about magnitude.

The days of the past few days have gone by and by all accounts some of these events would seem earthshaking:

* The gritty, hard-luck New York Giants beat the New England Patriots in this year's Super Bowl, thus denying the Pats an historic 19-0 season.
* The Lakers trade for Pau Gasol for the corpse of Kwame Brown and loose change.
* The Suns match by shipping out Shawn Marion and Marcus Banks to the Miami Heat for Shaquille O'Neal.
* The Dallas Mavericks welcome back Jason Kidd from the New Jersey Nets in a trade package that includes mainly Devin Harris and trade filler.

And that's just from the world of sports - the only news that's worth reading these days if you manage to tune out the steroids saga in baseball and Refereegate in the NBA, and of course Spygate in the NFL.

The latest "smoking gun" in the Philippines and the presidential primaries in the United States are from two different areas of political life --- one showcasing the corruption endemic in government procurement, the other the harbringer of the political agenda for the next few years not only in the United States but also worldwide.

While all the rabblerousers drum it up for the resignation of President Macapagal-Arroyo, the apologists, the "pragmatists" and cynics in general have already called it a day. PGMA's tenure has been the most divisive one on record --- and the rupture she has caused Philippine political life will take another generation to fix. What's breaking my heart is that my generation --- one that has just come to experience power --- has demonstrated little more than transactional politics, all for the sake of "not rocking the boat." The political culture --- not the system, is in sore need of a vision.

Ranged against this current soap opera, still, there is an ongoing soap opera in each life. The biggest thing that is befuddling most families here would be the high school JS prom and the graduations from grade school and high school. It's all about creating the "memories.

Put these two events together --- you have the cameras and the throng. The difference?

Magnitude.

The candidacies of Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama represent so much hope from the new and so much left-over dynamism from the old. Seeing either one as Democratic candidate in 2008 for US President would represent a change --- Clinton representing the gender line, Obama the ethnoracial line. Riddle me anything you want, but I see Obama as the future NOW --- he not only represents the once disenfranchised, but his politics point the way for reconstructing the US --- a United States which by 2050 will have the WASPs as the minority. Hillary, for all her intelligence and her grasp of the issues, and despite being a woman, still is part of the old guard.

So I pick Obama.

Where the issues of peak oil and environmental change become more pressing and world-girding, talking the US economy still pales in comparison. Neither candidate, nor even the Republicans, still have a rational policy for waging peace in the Middle East.

The cameras and the throng are on one side even though the other needs a more assertive push. The throng just latches on the latest spin. I gather the ordinary American still reads Page Six or watches "The Insider" more than keeping tabs on these issues.

One day the world will get its payback, if it's not asking for downpayment now.

Magnitude.

This life, then, with all its drama, even with the damper of banning Valentine's in Saudi Arabia is just a piece of flotsam in the ocean.

But it is the universe with which I am best acquainted.

Magnitude.

The stars may fall, and all around the world may crumble, but I hold on to the faith that this life, this little candle, may someday shine forth some meaning for somebody else. Lacking that, I go each day living my own truth as best as I can, for in the end I am just a whisper in the wind of history. Much as I strive to put in a kink in the human tapestry, all falls with the magnitude of humanity, and time.

The ultimate end of human acts is eudaimonia, happiness in the sense of living well, which all men desire; all acts are but different means chosen to arrive at it. -- Hannah Arendt

High Jinks!

In ex-Yugoslavia, Tito-era nostalgia - International Herald Tribune

Nostalgia for the past --- yeah, and I'm sure the old hardline communists (and those neo-fascists in disguise, as well, ehem) are wishing for the good old days when labels were more convenient and it was easier to draw the lines.

* * * * *

Overheard at a Filipino patient's bedside after he suffers a stroke: Ano ba ang increment ko? (Mentions name of Admin Manager), alam niya kung ano ang increment ko! (BTW, thank God he is alive and declared fit to be repatriated).

* * * * *

Favorite movie quote of the past few days, from "Billy Madison" featuring Adam Sandler:

(After Billy Madison finishes long-winding speech on the Industrial Revolution):

Principal: Mr. Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Billy Madison: Okay, a simple "wrong" would've done just fine.

* * * * *

Girl gets thrown off bus for wearing a leash. Yeah, that should give you some headlines.

* * * * *

Movie moment of the week: The Elisha Cuthbert nipple show opposite Christian Slater in the feature film "The Quiet Man." Dumb movie, but still. Yehey!

Ooops!

My last post should have read Day 25.

Coupled with the host of errors we have to deal with in last-minute calculations, I guess I'm not lucky with numbers these days.

Second Milepost

(Edit - January 27: Am reconstructing this from memory as something must have happened to the original post)

It's Day 24 of Year 2008 - and I'm marking this day by working, though I'm taking some time to laze away a few moments updating you what's been happening. I'd like to pat myself on the back for keeping to more than one month of solid work and sleep deprivation to complete the major set of salary adjustments for Company. This is the first of many hurdles that I expect to face this coming year.

Last year has been so up-and-down the peaks and valleys have settled into a bumpy drive. To celebrate that experience, I am dubbing this year the Year of No Expectations.

First, this is in part thanks to all the people who made last year special, and given the way things have turned out, expecting more would be a crime. Second, throughout the almost four years I have spent in Saudi Arabia, I have accomplished the very minimum of my expectations both personally and professionally. That there is still a wide gulf to bridge to get to the maximum goes without saying, but hey, I've gotten to first base. For me to move forward, perhaps I should concentrate less on the result but on how I'm getting there. That's the best way I could repay all the people who have shared me so many kindnesses.

And finally, as memory serves, I put on myself the onus of living my life with a greater sense of purpose, and part of this is to shatter my current set of expectations, and instead put myself in a constant state of BEING, not BECOMING.

(If that last part sounds evasive or Zen to you, well, tough luck!)

It would have been nice to share all of these realizations knowing that there is someone special who inspires me, or more importantly, that there is someone in particular whom I especially inspire. That would happen, or that would not, and given the recent disappointments I have had in this area, knowing that I am capable of feeling THAT FEELING is enough. What happens next is less within my control, so I'll have to let that be.

So for this year I honestly pray that I will be swept away, to be infused with a sense of wonder, and to shine a love that is ever-shining.

IT'S ALL TOO MUCH
(George Harrison / The Beatles)

It's all too much
It's all too much

When I look into your eyes, your love is there for me
And the more I go inside, the more there is to see

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much

Floating down the stream of time, of life to life with me
Makes no difference where you are or where you'd like to be

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around here
All the world is birthday cake,
So take a piece but not too much

Sail me on a silver sun, for I know that I'm free
Show me that I'm everywhere, and get me home for tea

It's all to much for me to see
A love that's shining all around here
The more I am, the less I know
And what I do is all too much

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much

It's too much.....It's too much

With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue

You're too much... too much too much too much ...

Postscript: This piece was composed for the "Magical Mystery Tour" album but it ended up on the soundtrack album of the "Yellow Submarine" movie. George's work is revealing in its simplicity. My original post had an embedded copy from Imeem.com, but it got killed in uploading. Ah, well.

The Usual Sandwich Filler

While the world pauses to mourn the recent deaths of chess genius Bobby Fischer and Australian actor Heath Ledger, I'm trapped in the office still on salary patrol. I would be glad to have this whole episode over.

I did find time to post on one of the e-forums, where one hot topic was de-sizing government. I just had to butt in. Here it is:

We just missed saying happy anniversary on the lifting of Proclamation 1081 just a few days back.

Just my two cents':

1) The original criticism on creation of new congressional districts and provinces is the bureaucracy that comes with them, whereas it is possible to do more with less bureaucracy in government. I tend to agree with this - how much more government service do we need really when its quality at the primary levels ( i.e. barangay) tend to be cosmetic? And let's not get started on the macro level, that's a whole other debate.

2) There is also a valid criticism on the nature of congressional spending, i.e. CDF. Time and again, we should take this discretionary spending power away from congressmen.

3) To take the structure of government further --- what were the original bases for setting up provinces --- geographical, linguistic, economic? I'd put my money on one major point: politics. We can look back to history given the way the Americans organized the territorial government when they came over. There is some good reading that this organization is the first root of our Muslim separatist problem - I don't have the link now, but Manolo Quezon does discuss this on his site.

4) Ah, benchmarks! If it were that simple to quantify the role of government in our lives.
==> I was late today because some woman passed out on the street and the usual gaggle of kibitzers got in the way of paramedics. #$% government!
===> My daughter was walking on the railroad tracks outside our shanty. The train ran her over. #$%!!$^ PNR! the mayor! etc. etc. etc.
===> I need a job. Anyone, please hire me! Someone, give me an allowance!
===> There are a bunch of drunks on the other corner singing on their darned videoke on full blast until the wee hours of the morning. What to do?
===> A shipment of smuggled chicken is being sold at bargain basement prices at our discount center! Screw the bird flu, time to shop!
===> Damn! We sucked at the Southeast Asian Games! Where's the pride here, kabayan?

If we are to look closely at the things that work for us --- private initiative in providing services for those who can afford them, courage and determination to work overseas to make extra dollars, contributions by the sectarians in moving education to a higher level (memo to UP on the celebration of your centennial: in five years, if not less, DLSU will overtake you as the pre-eminent Philippine university in terms of academic reputation, quality of graduates, and infrastructure. Accelerate reform now!), innovation and ingenuity in micro-level enterprises --- is that in an environment where individual effort and contribution, fairness, excellence, and quality are observed, we do well.

Government's role has expanded to that point where it has to intervene in everything. When it does that, it tends to stultify initiative and individualism and thus promotes mendicancy and stagnation. Instead of helping themselves, our people point the finger on others, and mostly on the government. Unfortunately, despite our socialist policy efforts, we cannot aspire to become a welfare state like those in Scandinavia. Given the mad scramble of these states to enlist foreign workers to support their retiring citizens, that system is flawed as well.

Methinks the government's role in most public spheres is to generate consensus to reduce duplication of activities, support innovation, set fair standards. and then punish violators vigorously. This model will definitely work in business, education, sport --- while the government can focus on securing our borders within and without, fostering healthy international relations, and promoting cultural identity.

Still, while we can go on theorizing models of government, it still bears to remember that without a proper culture of public service, any model is guaranteed to fail, as it is doing poorly right now in the Philippines. Change must come from the top, while those below must keep on pushing to ensure that happens. To be a truly "strong republic" the citizens will have to be "strong" in mind themselves.

Breaking Out of Isolation

Rent - Broadway - Theater - New York Times (registration required)

I was introduced to "Rent" almost ten years ago by a colleague who in turn was introduced to the musical by another of our colleagues. I knew it would score big in the Philippines - and when it did, I was proud to say I loved "Rent" before all the duffers got on the bandwagon. I loved the musical before Hollywood inflicted on us the disaster of a movie adapatation.

I immediately gravitated to the material --- the musical seemed to be written for me, if at all there is any relation between me and drug users, people combatting AIDS, homosexuals, and the bohemian lifestyle in general.

(Or maybe I am closer to all of the above than what I originally believed. In my dreams, hahahahaha!)

My personal favorites were "Glory" and "What You Own" since I'm sure almost everyone connects to "Seasons of Love." "Glory" is all about flawed heroes and lost dreams, and yet, it is also about hope despite bleak times. "What You Own" fills in the seams of a society that has reached the ultimate disconnect, as shown in Jonathan Larson's lyrics - "So I own not a notion / I escape / and ape content. I don't own emotion / I rent!"

This lesson is all so clear while I am stationed in Saudi Arabia --- we have fled our homeland for what is, essentially, a chance for the ones we love back home on a better life. I'm sure, like me, Filipino workers based abroad always say that the sacrifice so that others may have a chance to live better is worth it. I am not sure whether to readily agree.

We live in an age where image and not substance takes precedence, where dysfunctionality becomes the rage and the loss of privacy the most coveted "drug" and the last taboo to be shed. Guilt may always gnaw at one --- at lost opportunities, at lost chances --- but not shame, shame that one has let others down.

This age is a growing age of isolation, and even when people are together their minds --- or at least their fingers --- are elsewhere sending text messages. We bare our souls to someone we are chatting with online, but not to our friends and family. With all due respect to the romantics out there, but this is not real life.

And here I am, and so many others like me, toiling for that vision. These days I am not so sure whether the vision is still true, at least as to the nobility of it all. There is no nobility here, only perseverance. It is something to be done, and nothing more. Only the politicans made out the big deal about overseas workers being the new heroes of the economy. And yet they've done little more for us than platitudes.

Breaking out of this cycle, at least in my case, was to find others who shared my thoughts and aspirations. So SPA-TDG happened. Being part of a community organization was never in the plan. But then again, I never planned all that much during those early days on my arrival here in KSA. I always thought I'd meet someone, we'd fall in love, and then make plans to settle down. After this latest disappointment (which, in all honesty, was something for which I set myself up), once again I'm not so sure.

In two months I will mark the four-year milepost of my sojourn in Saudi Arabia. When I arrived, I couldn't wait to leave. Now, even though it makes no sense, I can't find any reasons for me NOT to stay. One of my closest colleagues tells me that his own lack of a steady relationship is a continuing source of frustration. After listening to him, my realization is that while he holds on to his success here, he has not let go of all the what-could-have-been back home. I empathize for him, because at one time I was traveling on the same boat with him.

I will find someone, or I will not, but there are people and friends I have met here whom I have come to love. True, there is so much I have lost --- friends and family who have moved onward, valued people who have scattered to different corners of the earth, the perpetual guilt of having walked out on my homeland --- the platitudes even more hurtful when I declare my readiness to die for her - "ang mamatay nang dahil sa iyo."

But there is so much I have gained, and at times I struggle how to verbalize it, as I do now.

I may be all alone as I am right now, rushing to meet a deadline and sitting on my desk in an otherwise empty office building, but I am not alone. It's hard to say it, or even start to believe in it, but there is no greater chance for me to be happier than where I am right now.


WHAT YOU OWN (Jonathan Larson)
Mark - role created by Anthony Rapp / Roger - role created by Adam Pascal

MARK
Don't breathe too deep, don't think all day
Dive into work, drive the other way
That drip of hurt, that pint of shame
Goes away just play the game

You're living in America at the end of the millennium
You're living in America leave your conscience at the tone
And when you're living in America at the end of the millennium
You're what you own

ROGER
The filmmaker cannot see

MARK
And the songwriter cannot hear

ROGER
Yet I see Mimi everywhere

MARK
Angel's voice is in my ear

ROGER
Just tighten those shoulders

MARK
Just clench your jaw 'til you frown

ROGER
Just don't let go

BOTH
Or you may drown

You're living in America at the end of the millennium
You're living in America where it's like the Twilight Zone
And when you're living in America at the end of the millennium
You're what you own

So I own not a notion
I escape and ape content
I don't own emotion - I rent

MARK
What was it about that night
ROGER
What was it about that night

BOTH
Connection - in an isolating age

MARK
For once - the shadows gave way to light
ROGER
For once the shadows gave way to light

BOTH
For once I didn't disengage

MARK
Angel- I hear you - I hear it
I see it- I see it
My film!
ROGER
Mimi I see you- I see It
I hear it- I hear it
My song!

MARK (On the phone)
Alexi - Mark
Call me A hypocrite
I need to finish my own film
ROGER
One Song - Glory
Mimi
Your eyes

MARK
I QUIT!

BOTH
Dying in America at the end of the millennium
We're dying in America to come into our own
And when you're dying in America at the end of the millennium
You're not alone

I'm not alone
I'm not alone

Making Sense of It All

Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.

--- Frank Herbert, "Dune"

Sourgraping

ESPN - Celts celebrate as Pistons shrug - NBA

I didn't catch the entire Celtics-Pistons game at Detroit just the other day as I still don't have a TV set and I'm not inclined to pay for subscription TV anyway. I did manage to catch a few clips, and knowing the histories of these two franchises and some of their players (particularly principals Garnett, Allen, and Pierce on the Celts and Billups, Rasheed Wallace, and Hamilton on the Pistons), some commentary:

* Ray Allen is decaying, and badly. He's showing his age, like, in dog years. Then again, he did have two ankle surgeries over the past few months so full recovery is still possible. On a different note, that's what they told me when I passed the 90kg range.

* Paul Pierce, and the bench, would be the key to get the Celts over the hump. KG as their Prime Mover can only do so much to get them there by setting the mood and doing all the little things, but he can't do everything, especially if he is on the pine saddled with fouls.

* KG for MVP. 'Nuff said. I always liked Tim Duncan's game more, but perhaps managerial ineptitutide has robbed the paying public of what could have been a really dominant force in the NBA.

* Did I just catch Chauncey Billups sourgraping? When do you start consoling yourself over a loss with something like, "this win meant more to them than it did to us." Uh, hello? Isn't this is what your fans pay you gazillion bucks to do? Put your butts on the line and try to win the game every time, every game? Come on - I admire the calm-come-hell-or-high-water approach of these fellows, but it won't cut it when you're looking for an edge. That being said, Billups has the competitive fire to lead this bunch, but unfortunately for him, I think he is buying more into the "Mr. Big Shot" reputation than he should instead of proving it on the court. (And oh, by the way, Mr. Big Shot had a big brain fart in the endgame. Figures.).

* Michael Jordan should shoot himself for trading Rip Hamilton. Of course, him being the legend at all, he'd rather shop Jerry Stackhouse first (and the Wizards did). Rip is the new Reggie Miller incarnate --- only he's cooler-looking when he wears the face mask. And he has a much-more developed mid-range game.

* Maybe somebody should have shown Rasheed the memo that talent won't be enough to get you over the hump. Get it done consistently, and that takes a lot of the mental juice (he may have the hoops IQ, but not the EQ). That said, I think his reputation as a whiner and brawler is much ill-deserved.

* Barring any spoiler job by LeBron and his Cavaliers (all apologies to Dwight Howard and the Magic, it's not your year yet), these guys should have established their rights to go at it for the Eastern Conference crown, and at this pace, I don't think the Western Conference representative would have much of an edge. Should Boston shore up its bench performance when its three stars are underperforming or Detroit hone its killer instinct in the next few months, these two teams would give the favorites --- the Spurs, Mavericks, and Suns --- a serious dogfight for the 2008 NBA crown.

(Other notes: I had an interesting conversation with someone when I asked, "Who is more valuable to Phoenix - Nash or Amare?" I said Nash, he said Amare. My premise was that if you replaced either one with another player at their respective positions, replacing Nash would be a bigger blow to Phoenix as Amare's strengths can be matched by distributing the scoring load among his teammates, while his suspect defense can be filled by a superior defensive player. After all, they did manage with Amare out and Diaw playing center. Marion did have a career year that time.

At some point, the other guy lost the point completely when he said that instead of replacing Nash with another point guard, he would start Leandro Barbosa, move Marion and Amare to the forward spots, and at center start Dwight Howard. I was tickled by the idea, of course, if you're playing fantasy or video games. Naturally the conversation lost all sense at this point. He did stick with the question "If you had to replace one player with another ---" Ah well, that's why sports arguments are more fatal than those in politics.)

First Milepost

How do you go about mending a broken heart?

The answer: YOU JUST DON'T.

It's just Day 7 of this brand-new year and it feels like my heart was put through a meat grinder. Great way to start this year. Of course it isn't permanent, but it's fun to wallow, at least for a while. The melodrama puts all of my senses on overdrive. I will bounce back.

Hamburgers, anyone?

Panic

I LEFT MY CELLPHONE IN THE CAB!

I was in the office yesterday trying to catch up on a lot of work --- though I couldn't see any reason why I should want to go because it was supposed to be a rest day.

I have had little sleep lately --- mostly my own fault of course, I'm moping like a teenager. I know it is so. I just couldn't bring myself to kick myself into shape. It will happen, eventually, but in the meantime I'm just chugging along.

So it was that I paid little attention to my cellphone ---I had acknowledged a text earlier, chatted with my buddy traveling with me (I was seated in the back), and alighted from the cab. I forgot about my phone completely.

As soon as I realized my mistake (almost immediately) I asked my buddy to call my phone pronto. I also dialed it myself and finally I was able to contact the Pakistani driver, who promised to show up in 20 minutes.

I waited a full 10 minutes before he was supposed to arrive and another 15 minutes after that but he didn't come. Expectation gave way to panic and then to resignation ---I gave up waiting outside the office and dialed again several times. My buddy also tried it from his side. After a few minutes he got through and the man said he would arrive.

When he did, I thanked him profusely and shelled out some SR50 for his trouble. He seemed unduly apologetic, which seemed odd at the time. I regretted my forgetting to ask for his good name and phone number --- he may be a useful asset should I need a ride in the future.

But the mystery and the regret disappeared when I saw my call history and saw a lot of calls to Pakistan and to some other places. Crap! However, I consider it fair trade since he did return my phone in one piece, and didn't ask for a reward.

First Thursday

"Ano ba naman 'yan, unang araw na walang pasok sa bagong taon, nagsesenti ka na?"

Well, this song is nice. Not exactly the feeling I have right now, but somehow pretty close. I haven't found a CD rip or mp3 of this, the copy we had was on cassette from almost twenty years ago. I don't know who bought it - maybe my sister did. A shout out for anyone who has a decent copy.

Just this morning I felt like writing a script while I was walking home. I had spent the night at a friend's place, trying to get myself a little soused up but it didn't work. In the end, we played NBA 2k7 on PS2 - 'Sheed Wallace was a monster in that video game, he torched Stevie Nash and the Suns for 101 points in two games, which the Pistons and Suns split.

But I digress.

SCENE. Int. Man on the landing of the stairs, gently turning the joint of left leg. He is wearing a jacket ill-suited for winter weather, and on his left shoulder is a black laptop backpack. Pulls out a set of keys. Keys jingle in his hand. His POV shot looking down the steps. A slight exhalation of breath. POV shot uneven and unsteady as he climbs down steps.
Ext. Still dark. Ululations from the the various mosques calling the faithful to prayer resonating in the distance. Focus on some paper touched by a stray breeze. Otherwise, there is little movement.
Man walks onto the sidewalk. His POV shot is direct at a nightwatchman all bundled up with jackets, dozing while a radio blazes a prayer broadcast. Man takes short steps at a time crossing the street. He stops and takes a look, sighs, and walks.
Ext. He is looking into the grocery store of window, no particular interest on anything.
Int. He is inside a building with marble floors, pressing an elevator button. Shot on elevator floor read-out it is off. Sigh heard again, and his POV climbing up a dark stairwell.
Int. We hear a door shut, a little quietly. It is a small bedroom with little furniture but clothes and papers thrown about - a bachelor's room. Man drops his backpack, raises his right arm to his nose and smells something unusual. Takes off the jacket. He stares at some papers strewn about, and what looks like some pictures or a theater playbill. There is no focus.
Man kicks off shoes and takes jeans off. His POV is on the ceiling as he lies in bed. Enter music.

YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS
For the definitive version, get one from George Benson's "Tenderly"

You don't know what love is
‘Til you’ve learned the meaning of the blues
Until you’ve loved a love you've had to lose
You don't know what love is

You don't know how lips hurt
Until you've kissed and had to pay the cost
Until you've flipped your heart and you have lost
You don't know what love is

Do you know how lost I've been
At the thought of reminiscing
And how lips that taste of tears
Lose their taste for kissing

You don't know how hearts burn
For love that cannot live yet never dies
Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes
You don't know what love is.

Greeting 2008

As we enter this New Year, let us be thankful for all the blessings we have received and all the people who have made it possible for us to enjoy these blessings.

Let us be thankful for the gift of family, who are our anchors in this world --- this is made all the more too obvious particularly for expatriates like me who are uprooted from our homeland.

Let us be thankful for the gift of friends, the people who support us and are proven best by their need of our help and most especially, when we can show that we are vulnerable and weak in front of them.

As with any other year, 2007 has its own set of triumphs, challenges, and trials - some of them of our own creation, others beyond our control.

My personal learning in 2007 is the power of words --- how they form an integral part of our lives and of how much influence they have in building us up, or as the case may be, bringing us down. Certainly I had more than my fair share of hurtful words, and since they can no longer be taken away I can only hope to match them with words and acts that heal.

My personal resolution for 2008 is to make people feel more valuable --- each of us is a central character to the play/movie/concert of our lives, and my role, as a supporting player in each of those grand presentations, is to be a positive.

As the old year closes and the new one begins, I would like to thank each one of you this year for being part of the movie of my life. Certainly the script could have been better written, the direction more focused and consistent, and of course, the acting leaves so much room for improvement. As I am my biggest critic, I would have to say that my main character could certainly use a brush-up, so for the episode of 2008 I hope, at the very least, you'd stick around with me to see how the movie unfolds.

I hope you got your money's worth, and if you didn't, I would like to say sorry, I'll do better next time.

For those with whom I disagreed or hurt in the past year, I would like to thank you for teaching me the value of remorse and the necessity to make amends. Where there was sadness and pain, there could only be joy and laughter, if time and forgiveness permits.

For those who inspire me and for those who have gone above and beyond what I have expected of them, my thanks will never be enough but still I'll have to say them. May I be given an opportunity to do the same for you, and I hope that it will be soon.

Finally, let us be thankful for the gift of life and its wonder --- for each today that ends there is a tomorrow for us to look forward. There is so much unhappiness in this world, and in our own little corner, I pray that each one of us adds, and not detracts, to the happiness and well-being of the people around us. It is all that we have, and with God's help, perhaps we'll have a chance to make a whole new better world in 2008.

May we have the strength and wisdom to recognize that for each moment that passes, our past grows and our future shrinks. May we always then make the most of today.

May the Lord bless you and make it possible for you to have all the love and happiness that you deserve.

Happy New Year!

Rizal Day Rape

“In view of all these factors, I have decided not to run for president during the elections of 2004. If I were to run, it would require a major political effort on my part. But since I am among the principal figures in the divisive national events of the last two or three years, my political efforts can only result in never ending divisiveness. On the other hand, relieved of the burden of politics, I can devote the last year and a half of my administration to the following: First, strengthening the economy, to create more jobs, and to encourage business activity that is unhampered by corruption and red tape in government. Second, healing the deep divisions within our society. Third, working for clean and honest elections in 2004.”

--- Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, 30 December 2002.

Anybody want a refund?

Vicissitudes

Just a mere three years after the Indian Ocean tsunami its presence have been mostly wiped away from the world consciousness ---so many other things have taken precedence, this fad and that, what baby would Jamie-Lynn Spears have, the network wars, the continuing morass in Iraq, the presidential derby in the United States, and most of all, the collapse of the US dollar against the world's currencies. But the lives that have been affected are changed forever, and no headline would change that.

There is one headline, though, that gives pause --- the death of former Pakistani leader Benazir Bhutto in a wanton act of violence. This closes a loop on one of the watershed events of world history --- the rise of "People Power" and the eventual dismantling of Communism. Many of the heroes of that era - Mikhail Gorbachev, Vaclav Havel, Mario Vargas Llosa, Corazon Aquino, Benazir Bhutto, Lech Walesa, the Tiananmen Square martyrs --- where are they now? Memory and circumstance have dulled their sheen.

This, I pray, would be a martyr's death that will galvanize the elements in Pakistan toward unity. Let's not talk of worst-case scenarios --- if things can get any worse in Pakistan, the long-term stability of both South and Southwestern Asia will be compromised.

Closer to daily events, salary increase time has come a lot earlier this year --- thanks to our series of studies we are upgrading our salary scale (yay! more money), which naturally, has ignited some premature celebratory speculations --- the grapevine is seething more than ever.

It's still so easy to get caught up with these things - love, life, loss, our lives may be changed by things outside our control ...

Hmph. Yes, Hmph.

I'm just not happy with the look on this blog. Wish I could customize it further but this @##$%#$%#$ webwasher Internet police we have in the Company is stopping me (serves you right, Chief, you should be working!).

Still waiting for inspiration for that rockin'-sockin' super blog entry designed to floor everybody. In the meantime, am posting an adaptation of Sheryl Crow's "Strong Enough." With all due apologies of course. I didn't have the heart to mangle the final main verse, I just changed the POV.

Strong Enough (Sheryl Crow)

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I’d be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Nothing’s true and nothing’s right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can’t change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
It’s try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man?

When I’ve shown you that I just don’t care
When I’m throwing punches in the air
When I’m broken down and I can’t stand
Would you be man enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave

Speaking from man's point of view, my version:

Look at all the stars tonight
Why must we even start to fight?
To love you means I’ll understand
I must be strong enough to be your man.

Who cares who was wrong or right
I’ll still be with you here tonight
You make the difference to all I am
I’ll be strong enough to be your man.

Lie with me
I love you, please believe
Lie with me
Oh please don’t leave.

Times will come when I won’t show
Or you’ll want to stay but I have to go
We’ll try to make the best we can
I am strong enough to be your man.

When you’ve shown me that you just don’t care
When you’re throwing punches in the air
When you’re broken down and just can’t stand
I’d be man enough to be your man.

Lie with me
I love you, please believe
Lie with me
Oh please don’t leave.

Edifice Building

This is a re-hash of an old post which I never completed. Still merits a little saying.

DAM
(Gary Granada)

Sa ngalan ng huwad na kaunlaran
Ang bayan ko'y sa utang nadiin
At ito na ang kabayaran
Ang kanunu-nunuang lupain

Ang mga eksperto'y nagsasaya
At nagpupuri at sumasamba
Sa wangis ng diyus-diyosan nila
Ang dambuhalang dam

Damdam damdam damda dadam
Damdam damdam damda dadam
Damdam damdam damda dadam
Ang dambuhalang dam

Ang mga tribu'y nagtatatangis
Nananaghoy at nababaliw
Habang ang mga turistang mababangis
Nalilibang at naaaliw

Sa mga pulubing nagsasayaw
Mga katutubo ng Apayao
Na napaalis kahit umayaw
Alang-alang sa dam

Damdam damdam...

Titigan ninyo ang gahiganteng bato
Nagsasalarawan ng lipunang ito
Tulad ng mga gumawa rin nito
Walang pakiramdam

Modern man needs his edifices in order to churn out the idea that progress --- the concept of
development --- continues and that change, as a constant that change is good.

The Ramos administration was founded on the paradigm that infrastructure was the key to development - that better edifices define the spirit of modernism in the Filipino --- in a sense, the pundits in his team were right --- bigger government spending spurred growth, and though businesses suffered in the interim, long-term growth was assured.

Of course, in the Philippine context, any public works improvement worth its salt must be budgeted thrice the amount in order to be called a worthy infrastructure project. A joke goes like this:

The city government was building a new garden and among the attractions was a wrought-iron gate. The contractor didn't have the skills to do it himself, so he opens a bidding and the top three participants were left - an American, a Mexican, and a Filipino.

The American submits his bid - $800 - $600 for materials, $200 for labor. The Mexican follows with $700 - $600 for materials, and $100 for labor.

The Filipino's bid was $2,700. The contractor asks: "How come this is so high?" The Filipino answers: "$1,000 for me, $1,000 for you, and $700 for the Mexican to do the job."

Guess who won the contract?

Blowing Invisible Kisses

Malamig. Mahirap magsentimental sa panahon ng Pasko, baka atakehin ka sa puso.

Still, this song reminds me of lazy days of drawn-out summers back home when the novelty of vacationing from school has worn off and that reality that you are stuck with nothing to do sets in...

This reminds me of languid afternoons curled up in bed with a book as the storms raged in the heavens and school has been cancelled (or I wish they would, eventually)...

When love finally came to full flower as I reached my twenties it reminds me of stealing the last few kisses even as I part from her, fearing that there would be no tomorrow for us to be together, and then despairing when she decided that indeed, there would be no tomorrow, at least for us together...

Mostly it's about those quiet times, those times in between those regular crises, flare-ups, the wailing about paying the bills and someone's lost keys --- when you are with someone you love and the air between becomes richer, as if pregnant and alive with the invisible kisses you are blowing one another. And that you take comfort in such silence, knowing you need not speak, for in your silence lies the greatest passion of all.

Astrud Gilberto is such a genius. Someone, quick, pin her another medal.

"Parting with people is a sadness; a place is only a place." --- Frank Herbert, Dune

A CERTAIN SADNESS(Astrud Gilberto)

Look out the window when that rain storms
I let the wind blow up a brain storm
. . .and now I'm wondering
Whether weather like this gets you too

It may go on like this for hours
Too late in fall for April showers
So what we got here
Got a thought or two
I need to share with you

Here goes:

Darling tell me now
Have I done wrong somehow
That you won't look at me

Need it pointed out
Can't keep my wits about
When you won't look at me

Is there something I oughta know
You're finding hard to say?
Well there's just a trace
Hiding on your face
And I learned it that way

Just another soul
That really knows my soul
And you won't look at me

Does that take the prize?
How much I love those eyes
and they won't look at me

Now the rain has gone
But something lingers on
There's certain sadness here
Now that the sky is clear

And it's so so clear
yes, it's all so clear
To me now

And I can't help but feel
That certain sadness's here
To stay.

Stuck at First Gear

So I'm revved up, excited on getting started on all of the perfomance appraisal sheets for one of the companies in our group. The catch is --- the system is DOWN. It has been for the past few days. The bright boys in IT went for a maintenance run and scheduled it during the Christmas break of our provider in Europe. Pure genuis. So now I'm stuck filing other papers, or worse, I might actually start on meaningful work. Crap!

I decided to wear my leathers this morning because I wanted to look formal for the first time in weeks --- I've stopped using my Docs because they are absolutely killing my feet. It's still a toss-up if I want to exchange arthritis in the feet for a more malignant, yet less painful ailment --- but I guess the Man Upstairs won't help me out on this one. Anyway, I'm stuck waiting in front of our apartment building for fifteen minutes because my carpool was late. It was cold, and I couldn't sit on the steps because our maintenance man decided to take a vacation too. And oh, I may have forgotten, our elevator is broken too.

Okay, yeah, it's a bad start for the day. Thank God it's Christmas, I could be bugshit about anything but the Lord celebrates his birthday today. Ummm, yup, that sure more than evens out everything in the greater scheme of things.

Merry Christmas!

The World is Still Flat

"Never try to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and it annoys the pig.”
--- Robert Heinlein, science fiction writer

“You should never try and teach a pig to read for two reasons. First, it's impossible; and secondly, it annoys the hell out of the pig!”
--- Will Rogers, humorist

I must have been blessed to awaken feelings in people that makes them want to argue with me. Or else, I'm choosing to hang around with people who, for some reason, rub on me the wrong way or vice-versa.

Just yesterday, I had a long discussion with one of my buddies on relaxing the vow of celibacy so that Catholic priests can marry and raise families. While I certainly agreed with his contention that it should be allowed (which I'm sure would spark some debate from those who care enough to read this blog and chime in an opinion), we never could agree as to the why it should be allowed. Like anyone who has some exposure to the Socratic method, I wanted to pin him down on how and why he thought his original statement was valid. For some reason, I found the way he flung about his statement as misinformed and irresponsible. Anyone can express an opinion, but for me to agree to it, I have to find out why.

(Sue me --- I was hung over, semi-depressed, and perhaps in need of a hug.)

After we broke off (both of us had to go back to work), it just occurred to me that we have been debating a lot lately. I don't know if it's me, or the things we talk about, or the way we go about our lives in general. Personally, I'd try to avoid expressing an opinion that is not backed up by something solid --- in matters of politics, of the heart, or of science, evidence does help --- but since I'm a bit offbeat myself, being a contrarian is something that is almost impossible to avoid.

Another time I got into an e-mail dispute with someone I hardly knew over my opinion over their choir's performance and repertoire. Looking back, I believe I was at fault over how I expressed myself, but then again, it wouldn't have gone that way if the other person wasn't as stubborn as I was. Eventually I had to concede and granted him whatever moral victory he could get, not because I agreed with his viewpoint but because at some point, trifles such as our discussion could be, and should be, avoided.

Still, another .... but wait, I think what I would add would reach the same conclusion --- it doesn't pay to argue when a) the issue to be decided affects no one in the end; b) it is outside my area of expertise; c) it is only a matter of conjecture.

But I just love arguing. I can't stop. So these quotes are for me --- no, people whom I argue with aren't pigs (though some of them seem that way, sometimes), but arguing the (somewhat useless) point solves nothing.

So if anyone wants to pick at something with me, let me forestall you ---yup, I agree with you the world is still flat.

Kids, Don't Read This - Which Means You Will

This is for the buddies back home.

I'd rather not name my buddy who brainstormed with me (well, not really a brainstorm, it was like reaching deep thoughts while sitting on the crapper), but I can't take full responsibility for it, either. This was one of our favorite car songs, especially in those days when radio stations started to play the same old stuff and we were too poor (and cheap) to put in a cassette or CD of some other tunes.

It also gave us some form of solace that we were being creative and that someday our talent would get arrested (you bet we would, but for altogether different reasons, hehe ...)

We first wrecked "Pare Ko" by the Eraserheads (which was easy, just change "pinaasa" to "ginahasa" and there you go, plus some other combos), and then we moved on "Toyang" (which is by far the best, but one I'll share only in person), and then to this piece, which is funny, but not as much. We later tried "With A Smile" and "Ang Huling Al Bimbo" but by then we had started doing our own material, but the jokes were so in-house the songs just didn't have "mass appeal."

Naturally, this isn't the best side of all of us who chipped in with these songs --- but it does work if you're young, carefree, and it helps if you're drinking, though for the record we were not on ANYTHING when we did these songs. With all due apologies to the original composers.

To all those people who put in a vote of confidence in me, now's the time to think about possibly taking it back.

SONNY (sung to the Eraserheads' "Shirley")

Hayok na naman si Sonny
Sa dalagang masikip ang p*ki
Sila'y nag-f*ck sa may Antipolo kagabi

The next week, hot item na sila
Nagkakan**tan papunta sa CASAA
Kung maglampungan akala mo walang katabi

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog

Parati na siyang tulong sa eskuwela
Gulo-gulo palagi ang buhok niya
Tumitirik ang mata kapag naglalakad sa kalye

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog

Ngunit isang araw sa may SM sila'y nag-away
Nag-umbagan, nagtadyakan
Hanggang sila'y malupaypay sa away
Umiiyak silang umuwi dahil sila'y may AIDS!

After three days, tumawag ang duktor ni Sonny
Diagnosis pala niya'y mali!
Hala! Punta kay dalaga at sila'y nagkan**tan uli!

Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog
Ganyan kalibog, ganyan kalibog!

Hayok na naman si Sonny...

Cold Realization

Show me a good and gracious loser, and I'll show you a failure.
-- Knute Rockne

Eid Mubarak!

So here I am in the office, trying to recover some of my fried brain cells from having to work during what is supposed to be our vacation. Well, IT IS salary increment computation time, and like it or not, people would want to see some form of salary increase on their paychecks within the first quarter of 2008. Then we get this directive that we have to get it done before January payroll. If holiday had not happened, I bet they would have steamrolled us to get it done before December payroll. You have to love management's devotion, but some fool is going to have to bear the brunt of getting the job done; in which case, IT'S ME!

(Maniacal laughter in the background).

I'm not really complaining; after all, it is my job portfolio and this is what it means to hold my job title. It's just ... yeah, I hate to admit it, this part of the year really tugs at those homesick heartstrings, and it has struck me that this season marks the third year I haven't spent Christmas back home. I absolutely hate the whole commercialization of the holiday season, and for some I may seem to be the prototypical Scrooge, I did appreciate Christmas for what it was and is --- an opportunity to be with the people one really cares about.

I would like to bitch about how the system's down for preventive maintenance.
I would like to bitch about my aching body parts.
I would like to bitch about the timing of my work and events in the year.
Even if I shouldn't --- there isn't any predetermined unfairness here.

To be fair, I have friends, some of whom have children who help fill the void. But try as I may, capturing all these feelings and experiences, and bottling them into a drink, if I may, would not slake my thirst for the people and things I miss back home. It just isn't the same, and it will never be.

It's hard to be lonely -- and even in the midst of other people, it becomes all the more obvious that I'm alone. Put any silver lining on this, it just isn't possible --- so for this year, I'm asserting that this state of events is unacceptable.

Until next year.

The Coming of Homo Superior

Human evolution speeding up--study - INQUIRER.net

Maybe the editorial teams at Marvel or of shows like "Heroes" have gotten it correctly. Hope these changing genomes won't mean why certain people from certain regions have really bad B.O., smelly turds, or chronic halitosis. Yup, it's hard not to be racist when you're in a public toilet and get to see so many examples at work every single day. I do clap for mutations that work ot for bigger, fluffier breasts and better "packages," hahahahaha!

The downside to all of this is some misanthropic, racist pyscho will go on about how his or her race has a "manifest destiny" --- it's o.k. if they blog from the comfort of their own PCs, it's another thing if they start cults, wage wars or launch mass-murder drives. But wait, hasn't the Bush administration already done this?

Diversion

This track is testament to why The Rolling Stones were named "the greatest rock & roll band of all time." Though I will always be a Beatles homer, the Stones have earned their props. They were prolific, lived through several personnel changes (including the deaths of founders Brian Jones and Ian Stewart), and have kept themselves relevant with every changing generation, while continuing to inspire other acts to do as well as they did. The solo efforts of principals Mick Jagger and Keith Richards have hardly detracted from the overall identity of the band.

I'm catching on quite slowly with the Stones (yes, I am still a Beatles homer), but given time and opportunity I'll ramp up my playlist with their tunes.

I have come to like this tune by virtue of its being a central motif in some episodes of the first season of "House, MD" which I saw for the first time only during the past few days. I found Hugh Laurie as Dr. Gregory House downright offensive but totally compelling, which was what he was supposed to do, I surmise. Well, he did earn awards from the Golden Globes and the Screen Actors Guild for his portrayal of the idiosyncratic diagnostician, made all the more credible because he is a British actor pulling off a flawless American accent. And, the dude is a musician and novelist on the side. Cool.

Of course I have a crush on Dr. Allison Cameron, not so much because of Jennifer Morrison herself but how the character concept and actress meshed perfectly. Sue me, that's how her character is supposed to appeal to my particular demographic.

One notable film I saw during that span was Denis Dercourt's "La Tourneuse Des Pages" (The Page Turner) with Deborah Francois, all of 20 years old. She's a stunner, though the film itself is memorable for its direction and photography. It had a few technical goofs with the wardrobe, and the script could have used some more fleshing out of inner motives, but the result is still worth the price of the ticket, so to speak. However, I had to watch it in the original French without any subtitles! (What a downer.)

I was also able to sneak in seeing the latest installment of those trendy reptilian martial artists, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, in "TMNT." Yeah, the movie blows, but who cares? Turtles rule!

Weather Report, and Bowls

It's almost the end of the year and I realized that I have posted less than half of my total posts in 2006. The quality of the writing rose and ebbed as well, but then again, I did mention sometime during the first half of the year that I found something else with which to express myself --- mainly gouge my eyes out doing work, then finding out it made no sense at all and now I'm on the verge of giving up.

Do I hate myself a little? Yes. But then, now I know I'm hating my job situation, I have to choose the right solution. Put up, or shut up and go man your station.

It's the Yule season again in the Philippines and even here homes have picked up some festive spin. Since winters are cooler here you don't need reminders that it's once again this time of year.

Speaking of which, one of the great stories of December was in 1994 (or for most other Decembers in my life, save for those of my earliest childhood), when most of our people in SHARE were in one way or another connected to the World Youth Day organization. If I were to play my experience in SHARE from start to finish, I think we had peaked right there and then as an organization that could have had national status. We didn't play it the right way then, and being the idealists that we were, many of us thought everyone else was the chump for not being who we were. Yeah, I could have used that memo reminding me otherwise.

The English call it "Boxing Day" - the day after Christmas. Some of our closest friends went out together to get ourselves prepared for the grind. Our group was mostly involved with General Services, which mainly dealt with housing and food services. We had become ingrained in the spirit of the event that we were actually staying over at headquarters in Intramuros. So going out that day was a treat - with about three weeks to go and preparations nowhere near finished. From where we stood, that is.

The core of the original "Bob-Boys" (in tribute to Bob Millanes, our section chair, and a pun on how much we were the pigs that we were) was there - Gerard, Feds, and me. (Robert found the work a little on the side of drudgery, so he dropped out in the work but kept our spirits up just the same.) Our buddy Des, who had just returned from vacation from the States and found no room in GS but joined the Marketing group instead, was also there.

The main players, who were peripheral to the WYD but were our main reason to go out (aside from the usual reason of getting drunk) were Jenny C, who was wrapping up her last few terms with DLSU and volunteered to be at HQ, and Rommel F., who was her steady at the time, who of course had to be there, since he did the driving.

Intramuros is grand in the evenings --- it has both the romance and Old-World charm that was colonial Manila, plus the inexplicable but palapable thrill of the possibility of having oneself witness or directly experience a random mugging. I'm sure you snobs who drool over Hong Kong, London or New York have this, but in different doses.

We didn't do the sights - the guys who were camped out at HQ were tired of Intramuros, but hey, we did want to drink, and the place to be, then as now, was Malate. We all met up and then proceeded to Tia Maria's in Adriatico (I don't know if it's still there ---I haven't been there in almost five years) and proceeded to wolf down the chow and wash it down with some liquor.

I know people have been known to go into heights of ecstasy over rare vintages or choice cuts of meat, but nothing beats the simple pleasure of eating too much food and drinking so much alcohol because you can afford it, and it feels good too, dammit! So it was for us right there and then. At that time, the place had no band, but the house music was pretty good and we were stacking it up there with the fajitas, nachos, and the beer, not to mention our own orders of food.

In his usual funny-scrappy-weasely-but-so-helplessly-hilarious-you-can't-help-but-laugh-or-else-have-an-embolism way, Des took over the conversation. He always had the japes for everyone, but that day, I was his whipping boy. The fact that I couldn't remember what he said meant that it was just one of those days. But I was in too good a mood (or too numb, I can't say which) so we went back-and-forth for most of the meal. He could act drunker than any efficient beer guzzler, but the Des was actually drinking iced tea.

Here comes the kicker - Jenny absolutely loved laughing at our jokes. For once I put up a comment (which until today I still can't remember, though everything else was clear) which cracked everybody up, though Des started the line. We sent ourselves up in stitches, though Jenny was probably shrieking compared to us. It was an effort to stop from breaking out in guffaws, and by the time we stopped Jenny was breathing heavily. Even the group at the other table, who were loud in the first place, looked askance at us -- though there was this guy that laid the Eye on Jenny. Rommel had a semi-stern look by that time (probably because of the guy, though the man on a good day would never run out of jokes) but seeing that Jenny was taking on the color of green carpet I couldn't have blamed him. She warned us too --- to stop.

We went on for a more seconds until Des delivered the super-finish of the blow, and out came the laughs again! But all of this was suddenly erased when Jenny suddenly choked, coughed, and hiccuped (and in that order, too) before she hurled almost everything she had that night! Lucky for us, Rommel was really razor-sharp and got the saucebowl for our fajitas to catch all of her vomit.

Lesson: always have a quick hand to catch your vomit.

The rub to all of this thing was while Jenny hurled in front of our faces, she actually brushed back her hair in a flirtatious-but-conservative-I'm-prim-and-proper manner that was even far funnier than her giving us flashbacks of The Exorcist.

Second lesson: you could still be pretty while disgorging the contents of your stomach.

When we had the stuff all cleared and the service crew helped us with everything (Jenny was pretty neat - everything landed in the bowl. I give that feat 100 points - mainly by giving me a reason to cite something gross and still be complimentary of the one who did it!), Des, still the usual kidder, asked the waiter for another bowl, just in case, well, if she went at it again.

If this were a cartoon world a huge mallet would have come out of Rommel's pocket and he would smashed all of Des' brains. But since he was a doctor, and knew how Des needed his brain, he just forbore on vengeance and just issued stern warnings, while at the same time sucking up to his girlfriend by being solicitous (I didn't find this cheap. It was actually endearing that a couple could still go all saccharine at the notion of vomit).

Well, yeah, she did hurl at least two times more on the way home, but nothing could have beaten what we had just experienced. The night ended semi-badly, but Jenny made the rounds of all our stories for three straight years. If she gives me an excuse nowadays, with all due respect, I'd still make her remember, hehe.

I need more of those days and less of what I'm having right now.

But as the good poet Mick Jagger said, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes - well you might find - you get what you need."

Willing Exile: Talking It Up A Little